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#but wired is king (female gender)

kathyprior4200 · 3 months

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Heaven Hotel: "Prologue"

The Story of Hell…(But not the one you know)

“Once upon a time, there were four main afterlife realms. One was a golden city guarded by golden gates known as Heaven. It was created by God and high-ranking angels who spread harmony throughout the universe. In the Hazbin Universe, Lucifer was a dreamer angel who had unique ideas for creation, but the elder angels didn’t like his wild, unconventional ideas. Sera and the angels helped create Earth and thus created Adam and Lilith in the Garden of Eden. Lilith fled the garden to escape her controlling husband, met Lucifer and fell in love. Lucifer wanted to share free will with humanity, so he gave the apple from the forbidden tree to Eve. Presumably, Roo, the Eldritch goddess of evil was able to escape the tree, corrupt the Earth and ruin the angel’s plan for humanity. Thus, Eve was corrupted, and Lucifer and Lilith were banished to Hell. Charlie, the princess of Hell, wanted to rehabilitate Sinners through her hotel to keep them safe from Adam and his female Exorcists who went down to kill them every year. A Sinner named Sir Pentious reincarnated to Heaven as an angel and Adam reincarnated as a demon after their deaths. Hell was a place with seven Rings ruled by the Seven Deadly Sins and the Sinners and demons could do whatever they wanted under Lucifer’s circus-like rule.

Those are the worlds you know. But those are different to where I’m from.

The Heaven where I live (what you would call 2P Heaven) is more complex than a simple golden Hollywood city. It has Seven Halos, each ruled by an Archangel or the Seven Heavenly Virtues. Humility, the lowest, is ruled by Archangel Michael. Charity is ruled by Gabriel, Chasity by Camael, Diligence by Raphael, Patience by Uriel, Temperance by Jophiel, and Kindness by Zadkiel. The Born-Again Council is our equivalent to the Hell Overlords. Sinners are ex-humans in Hazbin Hell, Winners are ex-humans in Hazbin Heaven. Here, we call them Saints. But those in our Hell? They have a lot of complaints. They are so far gone we don’t even know what to call them…”scum” is an understatement. Instead of I.M.P. imps going down to kill those on Earth, or Hazbin Cherubs going to save people, the main commoners here are elves of E.L.F. They not only save people, but they bless their families and comfort them after their losses. Much more efficient than C.H.E.R.U.B. at least. (See “Heavenly Boss.”)

You probably are wondering who I am. I am Princess Coerciona Vespar, only one of the most important people in this Heaven world. The angels here are shapeshifters and often have blue dots on their white cheeks instead of red ones. The only ones above me are my parents King Hesperius and Queen Evanna and the Archangels and God. I have black hair, black wings with eyes on them, barbed wire in my hair, dark green/teal dots on my white face and carry all sorts of weapons. My eyes can change to a deep black with white pupils, but mostly they are ice-blue.

Not only am I a princess, I also happen to be a leader of my very own Exorcist army, the Cleansers. Unlike blonde bimbo Barbie in Hazbin Hell, I enjoy killing demons and Sinners with great passion. (And why shouldn’t I? Most of them are rapists, Nazis, serial killers and the like…if they all get any ideas, I’m just making them double dead to feed Roo.) I also enjoy daily praise, respect, and rock music. I used to have a crush on Hazbin Exorcist general Adam, but when he lost to a cyclops maid, I figured he was pathetic after all. Coercing others is my specialty.

Who are the Cleansers? They are the Exorcists 2.0. They are of all genders and all classes: Heavenborn, Saints, and even lowly elves and cherubs can sign up. You see, we don’t just go down to Hell once a year to kill; we have to constantly be on the lookout 24/7. In our universe, what you would call 2P Hell…it’s a nest for Roo and Eldritch monsters. In fact, her influence makes up part of the Hazbin Hell, where double-dead Sinners and demons serve as her food and her eyes. Here, she is more known than in the Hazbin world. In our Hell, Lucifer switches between good and evil; he actually fell after losing to Michael and now hates humanity 90% of the time. Lucifer’s face is black and looks more devil-like than a clown. Lilith in our world is a succubus but much nicer than all the other royals in Hell. Eve gets to visit Earth and Heaven to help humans as the Mother of Humanity. All the Seven Deadly Sins have their traditional appearances, and they are all greedy and malicious. (Think dragon-wolf Mammon, Sloth Belphegor, and Fly Beelzebub. If your job was to punish people every day and you always got what you wanted, you’d be that way, too. It’s the blunt karmic way of “You’re on the receiving end of rape/pain whatever sin is around”.). Hellborns are at the top and the most powerful ones are those who own the most human slave souls.

Anyway, the Cleansers have to stop these white, bat-winged Satanics from sneaking up into Heaven and turning angels into demons with their black energy weapons. (Yes, they can do that, and if those in Hazbin found out, there’d be all-around panic in Hazbin Heaven.) In our Hell, Sinners are slaves, zero-free will, having to watch demons indulge in their associated sins. The only way to escape is if they are chosen to go to Purgatory or if they make it through Dante’s Inferno Circles. If they can endure the cleansing Purgatory flames, they then have to prove their worth by completing three incarnated lives on Earth after their first main life. If they pass all three, they go to Heaven, but if they don’t, they are sent back to Hell in dishonor. (Yeah, unlike Hazbin world, our rules are very specific about who goes where. Unless you’re the lucky few in Heaven with God, the afterlife is not pleasant.) The rules? No killing unless in self-defense. No stealing unless for survival. No raping anyone for any reason. No using money for self-serving/harming others without giving back in some way. Suicide is debatable…usually it’s bad but there are exceptions. Many Sinners in our Hell desire to go double dead and become food for Roo to escape the punishment…that’s where the Cleansers come in. We can see who might be worthy enough for redemption, who still needs to suffer and who has had enough.

So I help manage the Cleansers, but I still find many of Heaven’s rules stifling. They can accept killing Sinners, but they’re still often against LGBT rights and abortion and women’s rights and all that BS? To combat the extreme opposites of sin, I created my “Heaven/Haven Hotel,” a place where angels and Saints can come by and indulge in moderate sin and hide from the Satanics, provided they follow my rules. (Let’s be honest, one night of drinking and sex and swearing out loud to punk rock isn’t gonna hurt anyone. You can call me a stereotypical mean goth girl, but I have more responsibility, power, and beauty than your average human.)

Personally, I don’t care about trying to redeem Sinners 24/7; they have to do most of the work on their own. I guess I’m a good supporter of free will but only in moderation. As for me being a “brat” as many say, I’m just cynical of Heaven, Hell, and the systems in general. Those of us in Heaven come from a variety of species, sexualities, and the like, but due to Christianity, there will be an orientation to traditional roles, much like on Earth.

My father King Hesperius used to be Lucifer’s lost twin brother, the Evening Star. He is basically Lucifer without the desire to bring up chaos and wild ideas. He is sort of like Michael; stern, older, an opposite to Lucifer. My mother Queen Evanna is what Lilith and Eve would be had they not fallen. As for our Adam? He’s in Heaven working with Jesus to try and improve things on Earth. How’s that for the real first man? (And don’t forget my giant cherub baby bodyguards Pub and Chub.) Why am I so dark and vicious like Hazbin’s Exorcists? Perhaps I got a little too close and curious to Roo’s forbidden fruit when I was little and now I want to do things my own way; trying to follow some of Heaven’s rules while also being the best leader I can be. And if it means gloriously bathing in the blood of evil demons and getting even richer than I already am, all the better! Someday I’ll be just like the privileged Seven Deady Sins but without the Sin.

You want to know how I ran my hotel surrounded by a bunch of f**king idiots? Here you go…

0 0 0

Heaven Hotel: Season One Episode One: “Prelude”

I walked out onto a high balcony under the skies of Heaven. I wore a black undershirt with a white bow tie on top. A dark teal shirt, long white pants and white high heel shoes completed my look. My face was pale white and teal blushes were present on my cheeks. My eyes consisted of white pupils and dark blue sclera. Perched on my head was a black spiked crown. I was the inverted, antithesis of Charlie, the princess of Hell.

For all my life, I’ve been taught that all angels have good inside them. But I know that to be a lie. Ever since Lucifer and Lilith, God’s closest angels betrayed Him… I don’t think I can believe in these flawed teachings anymore…

I am Coerciona Vespar, Coercia for short. I was born and raised in Heaven…though I’m not at all one would expect to be in such a place. Some call me self-entitled and pessimistic, though I do enjoy heavy metal music, rebelling against the rules and the occasional brawl.

It makes sense that only a worthy few are able to be here in Heaven. Choosing them out of the sea of Sinner scum. Yet ironically, even the Saints and Heaven-born aren’t flawless all the time. It’s inevitable that all imperfect beings will go to Hell. They deserve to deal with suffering and challenges. Best of all, they wouldn’t be bound by social expectations. Heck, I wouldn’t be too surprised if I went to Hell if I were to piss off too many people. I do enjoy my comfortable life here, just not these restrictions.

I have two muscular servants, Pub and Chub: fat white naked cherubs with horns on their heads, small white feathery wings, and black eyes. One tested the strings on my black electric guitar while the other shot out torpedoes from a small cannon.

Outside was a white clock tower standing tall against the blue sky. The numbers read 0 then changed to 365 days. Writing above the numbers read “Days until the next cleanse in Hell.”

The Exorcists or rather the Cleansers did their job in eliminating part of the demon population in 2P Hell like they did every year in the canon Hell. But at the same time each year, the Satanics, risen white demons with white bat wings and horns, tried to invade our world. They carried glowing black pitchforks and turned innocent denizens into demons. They would carry books and tempt angels with their innermost desires. Sex, sin, self-expression, sorcery, whatever that need was. Then, once they were hooked, they were stabbed with the pitchforks, causing their wings to burn off and sending them plummeting down to Hell. Nearby families would grieve at their loss.

I leaned against the marble balcony and began to sing in a low growl.

(“I’m Always Evading Shadows”)

“At the end of the journey, there’s suffering

Denying it, how often I’ve tried

But my life’s a disgrace

Just a slap in the face

And the harsh truths have all been denied”

“A sliver of despair in this world of light

I know this world’s not free of sin

I search for the good

But get misunderstood

And reality will always win”

“Why have I always been imperfect?

Lost in this brainwashed sea

I wonder if the world’s to blame

I wonder if it could be me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Trapped, drowning in the social flow

Free-will forbidden, my answers are hidden

Lying down below”

“Some people sugarcoat their speeches

I always blab out what I mean

I may be cruel but I am no fool

Things are never what they seem

Believe me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Waiting for people to awaken

In vain.”

A nearby portal opened and out came the Cleansers. Their weapons drew no blood, for the Sinners would be transported to Purgatory without a trace. They took off their LED masks, their white angelic faces revealed. One by one, the citizens clapped and cheered. One of the Archangels with four black wings flew up to the front, his spiked halo glowing. He took off his mask, revealing a white stern face with yellow eyes and short black hair. In his utility belt were a few daggers, whips, chains, and a bottle of emergency holy water.

“Another successful purge,” one of their other leaders Samael (Venom of God) praised. “You cleansed more Sinners while still keeping the population in a good balance. Well done, all of you.” He cleared his throat and made a cross symbol over his heart. “For the greater good in the name of our Lord.”

The angels repeated the phrase.

“Until next year. Dismissed.” The Archangel soldiers saluted and then flew off separately to see their families.

All around me, Holy City was basked in a heavenly glow. The city was located up in the sky among the clouds, but no one had to worry about falling, even the ones without their wings out. A large church with the appearance of the Notre Dame Cathedral stood proudly in the city square, made of polished marble. Choirs and songs floated through the stained-glass windows as the regular angels went in and out to pray and visit with their neighbors. A large fountain sprouted non-alcoholic wine of a golden color. It had a white statue of Mary and Jesus as a young boy at the top, both with welcoming faces.

The streets were spotless and clean. Roofs and roads were powered by the sun’s rays. The Cloud 9 supermarket had endless amounts of food for sale…no one ever had to worry about going hungry. Charity workers and volunteers worked by the dozens, passing out extra food and bestowing miracles for those who needed them. Metatron, the highest-ranking angel, was busy keeping records of human lives, deaths and the messages of God.

This version of Heaven was very similar to the Heaven in the realm next door, the one above the familiar Hell with the Hazbin Hotel. The architecture was almost the same. But unlike those angels with their blonde hair and red blushes, these angels most often had black hair and teal blushes on their pale cheeks. Like in the other Heaven, some of the bipedal angels displayed animal-like characteristics: some had heads of doves, others had swan wings and mannerisms. Many of them had fur, ears, and fluffy tails of dogs and wolves. It was the only place where dogs and cats could dance and prance together without conflict. Still a few others had faces of flowers or even objects like harps and musical instruments.

God’s Palace was the grandest place of all: it was settled at the highest point of Heaven like Mount Olympus. Only a few angels were allowed to visit there. God’s abode, the Empyrean, had an elite group of angels guarding it. Seraph angels with six fiery rainbow wings guarded the throne of God, chanting “Holy, holy, holy!” much to the annoyance to those nearby. There were rumors that in the palace gardens, the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge were grown there, heavily protected.

King Hesperius and Queen Evanna are my parents. They took the place of our version of Lucifer and Lilith after they were banished. They were named the new king and queen of Heaven (Under God and a few Archangels), thus I became the princess.

King Hesperius had a white face, teal blushes on his cheeks and short dark hair. He wore a gray suit with a dark blue bow tie and a black top hat with two white feathers attached to the brim. Evanna’s hair was long and black, and she too had typical angel features. She wore a golden halo crown and an elegant white sequined dress. Both had white wings which could turn black when they were angry or defensive. My mother keeps in contact with me more than my father and seems more supportive of my project.

Now that you know my family, let’s take a look at my sidekick character crew.

0 0 0

Along the street, a red car stopped beside the sidewalk. A tall creature opened the car door and stepped out. The dragonfly angel had a furry dark gray face and body, plus multiple slender arms: four in total. He wore tall boots, green gloves and a shirt with a teal bowtie near the top. His shirt and sleeves had black and dark green vertical stripes. Green dots resembling eyes were located under his eyes. He also had thin dragonfly wings that were surprisingly strong.

“Thank you for the ride,” said the dragonfly angel.

“No problem, Frank Myrth,” said the driver Sivart, a white furry owl guy wearing a top hat. He tipped his hat to him and drove away.

Frank Myrth walked over to a vending machine and bought himself a granola bar. He walked inside a building and onto a stage in an auditorium. The crowd settled into their seats and the debate began.

“Those other brave do gooders will do great with helping me with my presentation. Anyone want to try?”

The words came from a rather peculiar angel, E-Gull. Tall and mighty, he was an eagle angel with powerful white and brown wings covered with eyes. He wore a white top hat on his white furry head and his suit was blue with thin horizontal purple stripes. Rummaging next to him were robotic black birds tinkering with various tools. One of the birds gave a rubber duck to an angel boy with white hair. These minions were called the Nestlings.

A couple of hands shot up.

E-Gull pushed a button and a presentation showed up on a screen titled “Heaven Economics and Invention Ideas.”

“I don’t like to fight,” E-Gull said, clearing his throat, “and I’m super nervous up here…”

The Nestlings nudged him in support.

Frank Myrth rolled his eyes at his cowardly opponent eagle who then yelped, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Heaven doesn’t need any future technology,” Frank Myrth argued as he stepped to his podium, “because we already have better things: friendships, food, and fun.”

E-Gull glanced down nervously at his note cards and read from them. “At this rate I will persuade the entire East end of Holy City by night’s beginning. Or was it day’s end? And nothing, not a single beauty in this paradise of bliss, will be able to change my mind or escape the constrictive grasp of persuasive argumentation.”

“Heaven will be ours, though it’s mine in my mind. And everybody will know the name of…”

“Bald Dud,” said a female voice.

“W-who said that?” E-Gull asked.

“You ready for a debate, old man?”

The voice belonged to Berri Blossom. She was a tall cyclops with dark skin, with a single green eye with a black cross in the center. She wore a long dark green dress and white high-heeled shoes. Her black skin was decorated in some areas near her shoulders with tiny teal specks. Her long hair was curly, blue at the top and black near the bottom. She pushed her thin dark rimmed glasses up to her face, looking at her organized set of notes in front of her.

She walked over beside her academic partner Frank Myrth. “Why don’t you play with your tinker toys somewhere else while I go over the logistics of divine law school?” She looked professional and poised. “For my presentation: Seven Reasons Why Heavenly Traditions Never Fail.”

“You want to go, madam?” E-Gull asked, a spark of rebellion in him. He fiddled with a few gadgets before the well-dressed Nestlings chirped at him on to continue. He flapped his wings a bit. “Well, let the battle for tenure and status begin!”

A neon logo appeared on the screen, saying “777 News” surrounded by a halo. The names of the news cast appeared on the bottom of the screen.

“Good afternoon, Holy City!” smiled a pale woman with short black hair, wearing a light blue dress. “I’m Catie Carejoy!”

“And I’m Ron Wrench!” said the man next to her, wearing a business suit and who had two wrenches for hands.

After discussing the weather, various humane societies, and legends on Earth, Catie Carejoy continued, “The debate battle is underway between inventor E-Gull and professional economics expert Berri Blossom. Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of His Majesty King Hesperius, who’s here to discuss her brand-new passion-project! All that and more after the break!”

Inside the break room, Phalla the romantic butterfly angel adjusted my white bow tie. Nearby, a blue tinted sign read “No smoking.” Another sign read “In The Air” in large letters.

“Okay, you remember what to say?” Phalla asked.

“Yes, I’m ready,” I stated.

Phalla brushed her long black hair from her face. She had light gray skin, curly black hair with gray outlines and two large light blue eyes, her right one covered by a teal green heart. She had a matching teal green butterfly bow in her hair and a teal green shirt with a white collar and white buttons. She wore a white collar and a black Christian Cross necklace. Her skirt was white, just reaching her white leggings with black lace on top and she had black pointed shoes.

She was ever the girly romantic, always chasing after men and not having a violent bone in her body. Some claim that Phalla’s name is a nickname for “penis” since, you know. She makes for a good friend and an even better servant.

“Oh, this is gonna be great!” Phalla squealed happily. “How about you make your speech sound more exciting?”

“Come on, Phalla, I know what I’m going to say,” I scoffed, crossing her arms.

Phalla walked over to the pitcher of ambrosia punch on the table. Pub and Chub ate bagels from the table. Phalla got an idea. “Oh! What if you…”

“Sing a song about it?” I asked, with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to. This is serious!” I curled her hand into a fist and brought it down on the palm of her other hand. “They won’t take me seriously if I start belting out some random pop song. Life isn’t a musical.”

“But neither is it an emo tragedy,” Phalla pointed out. “Life is great, especially with all the cute guys around.” Her eye shined.

“Romance, bleh,” I made a face and Phalla giggled.

“Hey,” Phalla brightened, pulling out a piece of paper. “I have some ideas about what you could say.” She bounced up and down. “The highlighted bits are the best parts!”

“They’re all highlighted,” I replied, scanning the paper. I narrowed my eyes. “You call your childish drawing your ideas for me?”

“Sure!” Phalla said. “Look here.” It showed a list of different terms “Sinners = Winners” “Misunderstood are still good” and “demons and angels party between worlds!” Skulls were lined up at the bottom of the page: “we’re all connected by death.”

“Say, that’s actually pretty good!” I said sarcastically with a smile of sharp teeth.

“Thanks!” Phalla beamed.

I snatched the piece of paper from her and tore it in half, much to her shock. “But you should know my ideas are always better.” I tossed the pieces of paper aside, gave a salute and walked out the door.

Catie Carejoy waved with a smile. “Hi. I’m Catie Carejoy.” She held out her hand, but I didn’t take it, instead remarking, “You can put that away. I don’t touch commoners, I have standards.” Catie Carejoy looked stunned, pulling her hand back. “So, this project of yours, when did you come up with this idea of creating a hotel in order to…break the law as the rumors say?”

The angel crew murmured nervously.

“I’m gonna keep this short,” I said as I walked over to the desk. “You might think my idea doesn’t hold water, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m too influential to give a flying feather about what some stuffy old news lady thinks of my proposal.”

The crowd gasped. Ron Wrench shook his head.

“Well, if you can’t take constructive criticism and be polite…”

“…and we’re live!” called a voice as a buzzer sounded.

“And we’re back!” Catie Carejoy said, rushing over into her seat. “So, Carrie…”

“It’s Princess Coerciona Vespar,” I spat, sitting in a chair beside her and Ron Wrench.

“Sorry. So, tell us about your so called passion project.”

I took a deep breath. “As most of you know, I was born here in Heaven, and growing up, I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me. But recently, I don’t believe that’s always the case. We just completed another Extermination...erm Cleansing. So many sinful souls lost but for what reason? God said in the Commandments “thou shall not kill,” yet killing random people is okay in both Hells? I know I like the thought of the evil Sinners getting destroyed, but I often forget there are innocent people down there, too. If we can’t even trust ourselves with our actions and thoughts, is Heaven truly paradise? Not to mention that ever since Lucifer and Lilith betrayed Him, we don’t know who to really trust. Some people are given too many chances!” I pounded my fist on the desk, startling Catie carejoy.

I stood up and made my way forward. “No one is truly flawless. Mistakes are made, but we get blamed for doing things we sometimes enjoy. Sex, drugs, partying, swearing, even violence. All because we don’t live up to impossible standards imposed upon us, both here and on Earth! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such lies and propaganda! So, I’ve been thinking…isn’t there a more liberating way to hinder forced compliance here in Heaven? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to express change through…recreation? While still Cleaning those in Hell, of course. And preferably eliminating evil demons once and for all?”

The angels talked quietly amongst themselves. Phalla nodded in appreciation.

“Well, I think yes,” I continued. “So that’s what this project aims to achieve.” I walked back to the desk and sat down. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind, a hotel that encourages moderate amounts of so-called sin!” I spread out my arms.

The audience stared in stunned silence. Many of the adults were shaking their heads.

“Who is that girl?” asked a dragon watching from inside a soup kitchen. “What’s her deal with trying to cause more trouble for this world?”

“She’s nuts!” added another angel with an eagle’s head and wings, wearing a suit.

I added nervously while still trying to keep a glare, “I figure it would serve a purpose…a place to work toward self-expression. Yay.”

Among the crowd of angels watching the news outside, a tall man with a thin pale face stood toward the back. He wore a light blue dress suit, had blue and white hair, fluffy dog ears, and large blue eyes. His white wings were folded behind him. He watched the program with a look of worry. A dog creature made of light appeared beside him. A sign posted on the wall showing the same man as a DJ read: “Counseling and good times with the Techno Angel!”

A camera man shook his head at me. Phalla walked up to him and pleaded, “Please give her a chance.”

I sighed. “Look, I know every single one of you has insecurities and issues that need not be bottled up. If you could just embrace those sides of yourselves…”

I then smirked. “Maybe I’m not getting through to you.”

Phalla clapped her hands and “ooohed” in excitement as Rub and Chub got the electric guitar ready.

I barred a pair of sharp white teeth and black curved horns emerged from my head. My black feathery wings spread out from my back and an X appeared over my right eye. A harpoon appeared in my right hand and a spiked halo appeared over my head. I was in her dark angelic Exorcist form, a handy costume look I often use for my shows. I posed over the desk and began.

(“Inside of Every Angel is a Sinner”)

“I have a dream

I’m here to tell

About a fantastic mind-blowing hotel

One of a kind, go and yell

A great place to dwell

Catering to specific clientele”

*Guitar starts and scream vocals*

“Inside of every angel is a Sinner

Inside of every do-gooder is a beast

Inside of every jolly go-lucky mentality

Is a subconscious portion we know the least”

“Resist all the rules

You’re not passive fools!

With just a little time

Down at the Hazbin Hotel!”

“So all you rescuers, priests, and heroes

Gifted athletes, jocks, and cheerios

And the sheep citizens, relief is here!

All of you angels, leaders, and stars

Traditionalists with fancy cars

And the activists on Mars

Show no fear

No taboos, no laws

Embrace your flaws

You’ll be truly free

Check in with me

It’s the right path, you’ll see”

“There’ll be no more pressure

And no more status quo

Just friendship, fun, and endless bags of dough

Establishment put to rest

You’ll be like, “Yes!”

In the tunnel of darkness you’ll go!”

“So all your hierarchies, GMOs, politics, and isms

Lectures, labor standards, and diamond studded prisms

Ancient Indian elitisms

All must die”

“All you fantasizers, artists, servers, and lords

Spoiled children, winners of awards

Imposers of chores

Face your fears!”

“Be who you are

And you’ll go so far

Our service will raise the bar

You’ll be the star

Come from near or afar at the Hazbin Hotel!

Yeah!”

I finished with a pose.

“Wow,” said an angel in a top hat. “That was…alright.”

The crowd clapped half-heartedly.

Catie Carejoy shook her head. “What in the Nine Levels of Heaven makes you think a single denizen of Heaven would give two feathers about becoming a sinful person? You have no proof that your little experiment even works! You want people to disobey God and the rules just…because?!”

I lifted up my head. “Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause.”

“And who might that be?” Catie Carejoy asked.

“Oh, just someone named…Frank Myrth.”

“The grumpy old dragonfly?” asked Ron Wrench.

“He’s not old,” argued Catie Carejoy. “He just acts older than he is.”

“Anyway,” said Catie Carejoy. “You couldn’t even get that guy to do something bad, even if a gun was pointed at his head.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” I argued. “He’s been troubled, dirty, and having conflicted thoughts for two weeks now.”

“Breaking news!” called a voice as the screen changed to a recent debate shown in a building.

The news came on, detailing Frank Myrth and his recent TED talk about the 7 Heavenly Virtues.

“Well, it looks like the one discussing the Heavenly Virtues is none other than…conservative Frank Myrth! What a coincidence!”

She and Ron did a “ratings!” and jazz hands.

I rolled my eyes.

“I’m sorry to say, but it looks like your plan’s departed on arrival,” said Catie Carejoy. “If you were smart, you would cease this rebellious club and embrace the way things are done here. I hope you learned a good lesson.”

My eyes twitched, her teeth barred. “Lesson?! I’ll teach you a lesson, b*tch!” We fought fist and claw on the desk. Ron Wrench called for security.

After I was kicked out, Phalla followed me wordlessly to the white limo. Frank Myrth, Phalla, and I rode back to the hotel.

0 0 0

Frank Myrth lounged in the far seat, wearing an outfit of black with green stripes and green gloves on his four hands.

“Frank,” said Phalla with concern. “I know you were trying to do good by doing your professional speech. But could you please try not to help society in public? Now people won’t believe us when Coercia says that people are free to express their earthly desires.”

“I’m sorry Phalla,” said Frank from the other seat, “But I have a reputation to keep up. Helping the greater good is His plan for all of us. Besides, a good professional debate is a reasonable form of self-expression right?”

“Not to everyone,” said Phalla. “What about the hotel? People are thinking that you don’t care about Coercia’s project at all.”

“I do care, senorita,” said Frank. “Sort of. I just don’t think it’s going to be easy to accomplish in such a short time. So many angels are fixated on tradition, myself included.”

“I do appreciate all of your help,” I said, still fuming after the interview, arms crossed. “But I will make this project work, even if I have to do it myself.”

The white limo pulled up in front of the hotel, a pristine building made of glass and marble. The group got out of the car and stepped inside.

White wings made of rainbow scales posed as part of the structure on the roof. The stained-glass windows by the door were decorated with apples, a tree of life, and many shades of blue and green. The sign above read “Hazbin Hotel” in big letters on the roof. Inside the lobby, a painting of Adam reaching toward God was displayed on the high ceiling. The hotel had seven floors with seven rooms on each floor. A bowl of blue berries and blue raspberries sat on a table below a welcome banner. Phalla rested on a couch while Frank Myrth munched on a granola bar.

“It’s probably a good idea to stock up some more food in this place,” said Frank Myrth. “Good or bad, people always seem to be greedy when they’re hungry.”

Frank Myrth pulled out a chart and went over probabilities and graphs regarding the hotel and the potential number of visitors. I sighed and walked away toward the door. I went outside and took out my cell phone, calling my mother.

“Carol cakes!” called Evanna through the phone. I cringed.

“Mom, I told you not to call me that! I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” she said with a giggle. “How was the interview?”

“Meh. It was alright. I proposed my idea, but nobody seemed to buy it.”

Evanna’s tone turned more serious. “Coercia, why do you insist that everyone must go down to that horrible place? Why can’t you just see the good in people?”

“Because,” I said, “Everyone has flaws and they don’t realize it. Also, I didn’t say that people should go to Hell. I said that we should truly be able to do what we want in Heaven.”

“Yes, but that also applies to you, too. Before you get involved with the lives of others, you need to look inside and critique yourself.”

“I’m a princess. Everyone else has more flaws than I do.”

Evanna let out a long sigh. “Young lady, we’ve been through this I don’t know how many times. You have to push your selfish thoughts aside and just accept the way things are. It’s part of a higher purpose.”

“And what is this “higher purpose” anyway? To be His flock of dazed sheep, dancing around without any care in the world? To not experience ecstasy and adventure, even for just a moment?”

“That stuff is dangerous and forbidden. Thousands of souls would do anything to get up to this level of Heaven. And you just want to throw your life away? You’re lucky you’re not those Sinner slave sin Hell! Or those gay furries in Hazbin Heaven.”

“At least those Sinners in Hazbin Hell, disgusting as they are, get to do what they want.”

“You have delusions of what entertainment and happiness is, Carol. Sometimes, you need to take the time and appreciate the beauty that’s in front of you.”

“Other than my own refection, I don’t really see beauty in many other things. Well, heavy metal and watching battles…oh and watching Sinners beg for their last breaths…”

“You have a lot to learn, dear daughter,” Evanna replied. “I’ll leave you alone to think about it.”

“Whatever.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

I hung up and went back inside, shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the door frame, closing my eyes in frustration…trying to hold back a stream of tears from the stress.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Two knocks, four knocks, then a last one. “Shave and a Haircut” backwards. I turned around with a sigh to answer it. I swung the stained-glass door open. From outside stood a tall slender man with a pale light gray face, wearing a light blue pinstriped dress coat. A white upward cross was part of the design on his light blue undershirt. He was carrying a modern microphone atop a staff in his left hand. He had light blue and white dog ears near his light blue hair. His suit was light blue with dark blue horizontal stripes, a white Christian Cross design on his blue undershirt. He had white angel wings, a white halo, white pants, pointed white boots with blue tips and a strange blue furry tail. His eyes were big, blue and sad, a blue monocle under his left eye.

What a clown!

“Hi, excuse me…” he spoke quietly. “Is this…”

I slammed the door in his face.

I opened it again.

“…the right address?” finished the man.

“No!” I shouted, slamming it again.

“Hey Phalla!” I called.

“What?” her friend asked.

“The crybaby Dog Man is at the door!”

“What?!” she asked, blushes appearing on her cheeks.

“Who?” asked Frank Myrth.

“What should I do?”

“Well…let him in!” Phalla cried, eye shining.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. I sighed and opened the door again.

“May I talk now?” the man asked in a radio voice.

“Sure, whatever.”

The man held out a white gloved four-fingered hand. “Stalaro, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” He walked in. Worry was etched on his face. “I saw your interview on the picture show and I was worried sick! I was afraid you were never coming back after your argument. Why I haven’t been that upset since the 1929 Stock Market Crash!” He sniffed, “So many poor orphans…”

“Hello there!” Phalla called with a smile, staring up and walking in front of him. She greeted in Spanish. “I’m so glad you’re here to help out my friend with this new hotel! I’m a big fan of yours and just being in your presence is just…” She swooned. “Oh just take me already you cute, pompous, talk show, blueberry pimp lord!”

She embraced him and he stood stunned, his face blushing. “I do love hugs,” he whispered as she stepped back. “I bet all of you would be so nice and soft after we get to know each other for a while…”

Phalla blushed while Frank Myrth and I made disgusted faces.

“A blowjob for you, gray fellow?” Stalaro asked Frank Myrth with a bow.

“Not gonna happen, creep,” Frank Myrth spat.

Stalaro gave a nervous laugh and popped a strawberry and blueberry into his mouth.

“I don’t trust him,” I said.

“Me neither,” Frank Myrth agreed.

“You’re not gonna cling to us are you?” Phallas asked. “Or, you know…”

“Dear, if I wanted to screw anyone here…I would’ve done so already.”

Stalaro tilted his head. His blue eyes briefly glowed with blue upside down radio dials in them. Electricity sparked around cyan colored voodoo symbols in the air. His eyes filled with tears, tears spilling down his pale gray cheeks.

Phalla watched in bliss, while Frank Myrth and I rolled their eyes at the show-off.

Stalaro shook his head and his eyes returned to normal blue.

“No, I’m here because I want to relax and help out.”

“Say what?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

Stalaro held up his staff which glowed blue. He said with a sad crack in his voice, “Goodbye, is this thing off?”

He tapped it. A blue sad looking eye appeared in the center of the microphone. It spoke in a mechanical voice. “You’re silent, quiet and unclear!”

“That’s your motivation motto every day?” Frank Myrth asked, crossing his four arms. “Pathetic!”

“Tragic and mysterious, I love it!” Phalla squealed. “It’s like the opposite of announcing. It’s…denouncing.”

Frank Myrth elbowed her. “Hun, could you not get attracted to every other man you see? I’m your boyfriend.”

“I can’t help it, love!” she cried. “I just get so distracted easily.”

“Um…you want to help?” I asked, suddenly curious.

Stalaro appeared behind us after morphing into light.

“With…” he spoke in her growl then his normal shy sounding voice, “…this random thing you’re trying to do. This hotel. I want to help you run it, if that’s okay.”

“Uh…why?”

Stalaro choked a bit on his words. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything? Sheer absolute lethargy! I’ve been partying around and keeping busy for decades. I would like to do something more relaxing and easier.”

“A sad wimp like you at parties?” I asked.

“I’m a pretty good actor,” he replied. My work became overwhelming, lacking focus. I’ve come to crave a new form of disengagement!”

I rolled my eyes. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as disengagement?”

“No,” Stalaro said. “It’s violent and messy, not really my thing. Life is truly strange…reality, fantasy, true tragedy. After all the world is a grave, and the grave is a world of disengagement!”

“You’re a f*cking disengagement,” I retorted just as Frank Myrth warned, “No swearing!”

Then I brightened a bit. “So, does this mean you think it’s possible to taint an angel? You know the selfish angels who deserve a kick in their ass? That life is meaningless without your own self to temporarily control it?”

Stalaro sniffed and held up a hand. “Who knows? Anything’s possible. Sinning, oh the vice of humanity! Oh, but I think there’s plenty left that can change such marvelous saints. But then again, the chance that was given to them was the life they lived before. The reward is this!” He spread out his arms. “According to God, there’s no undoing what is done…or at least that’s the way it should be.”

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t fully believe in my cause?” I asked.

Stalaro turned around to look at her. “Consider it an investment in ongoing knowledge for myself and others.” He let out a small smile. “I want to watch the blessed of this world struggle to give into temptation, only to repeatedly realize and raise themselves up the golden ladder of success!” His eyes glowed blue.

“Right…” I began. “Boring.”

“Yes indeed,” Stalaro said, both of us walking off to the side. “I see you taking risks and who better to keep you grounded than I.”

“Ah, so what’s the deal with Mr. Frown over there?” Frank Myrth asked.

“Wait, you’ve never heard of him before?” Phalla asked. “You’ve been here longer than me!”

Frank Myrth shrugged his shoulders.

“The Techno Angel, one of the most complex beings Heaven has ever seen?”

“Eh, I’m not too big on people.”

Phalla sighed and leaned in close to explain.

“Decades ago, Stalaro manifested in Heaven, seemingly in one day. He began to catch the attention of Lordships and Archangels who had kept to themselves for centuries. That kind of attraction and magic power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his adventures all throughout Heaven just so everyone could experience some joy, tragedy, and emotions. Saints starting calling him the Techno Angel, (as unoriginal as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and constructive heroes. But one thing’s for sure: he’s an unpredictable source of silliness, a depressed spirit of mystery and a loving being of order…or disorder, the likes of which we can get involved in, especially if we want to end up aroused!”

“You done?” Frank Myrth asked. “He looks like a blueberry businessman. Or a shady con-man. Either way, you’re delusional.”

“Well, I trust him completely!”

“Do you blindly trust any man? All men?”

Phalla skipped over to me. Stalaro examined a family portrait of Hesperius, Evanna and a young me in the center. I wore a white dress with a turquoise top to it. My hair was jet black, braided in black barbed wire, my cheeks had teal blushes. Evanna had long black hair and wore a fancy white dress and a round gold crown. Hesperius was dressed in a dress suit of white and blue, with blue and black stripes in the center below a white bow tie. He wore a large light gray top hat with a dove and a green apple on it. His cane also had a green apple on the top. Both of them were smiling, showing rows of sharp teeth, white wings folded behind them.

Phalla looked excited as she explained. “Coercia, listen to me, you can believe this dreamer. He isn’t just a sad face. He’s a miracle maker, pure good! But… don’t count on him to believe in your cause. I suppose he could be tainted and rebel, but we don’t know that. He could very well side with God and your parents. And he’s most likely looking for a way to hinder everything we’re trying to do if it means following God’s rules. But still, give him a chance. He’s really sweet.”

“I…” I began. “…we don’t know that. Make up your mind. Whose side are you on, anyway? Is he a rebel or another boring elite? I’ll tell you. He’s a crying b*tch, and he probably doesn’t want to change.”

Phalla put her hands on my shoulders.

“The whole point of your hotel is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better and people can embrace their flaws, their true selves! How can you turn someone away? You can’t. It goes against everything you’re trying to do. Everything you believe in.”

I looked downcast. She had a good point. I hated when people made good arguments against me.

“Just take care of yourself,” I said.

“Coercia,” warned Phalla, “Unless you are serious about responsibility, do not make a promise with him!”

Demons often made deals with each other that often resulted in gaining power at the cost of one’s soul or freedom. Usually the one who initiated the deal would gain advantage. A demonic deal was bad in and of itself. Breaking an angelic promise could result in rejection, eternal torture, and damnation.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I learned one thing from my dad.” I mimicked his low voice, “Ya don’t break trust with other angels!”

I marched over to the Techno Angel.

“Ok Mr. Dog-face... You’re prissy as f*ck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a too-dangerous risk. But I don’t.”

Glowing blue symbols briefly appeared around a concerned Stalaro, then vanished.

I continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be themselves. After all, it’s in their nature and the sooner they realize it, the better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition there be no lessons or lovey-dovey speeches made.”

Stalaro twirled his cane and held out his smallest finger from his right hand.

“So, it’s a promise, then?”

The room was surrounded by a pink aura as light spirits roamed around the walls. The wind blew against Phalla’s and Frank Myrth’s faces.

“Nope!” I yelled, holding out my hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking, no promises! I…hmmm…”

I paused in thought.

“As Princess of Heaven and heir to the throne, I hereby order that you help out with this hotel for as long as you desire.”

A moment of pause…

“Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Stalaro said with a slump of his shoulders and walked on. His cane vanished.

Stalaro stopped and spotted Phalla to the side.

Phalla went up and tickled him under the chin, much to his shock.

“Smile, dog man!” she giggled.

Stalaro walked on, speechless.

“So…where is your hotel staff?” Stalaro asked me.

“Uh well,” I began. Stalaro peered at Phalla through his monocle below his left eye.

He stuttered. “You’re going to n-need more than that.”

Stalaro walked over to Frank Myrth, who was sitting on a stool.

“And what can I do, my business fellow?” asked Stalaro walking over to the dark dragonfly, blushing.

“You can suck a dick,” Frank Myrth retorted in a grumpy tone.

“AH! Ok,” said Stalaro, blushing and stepping back. “Can it be yours?”

“F*ck off,” Frank Myrth added, pulling out a long holy knife from his belt.

“Now who’s swearing?” I smirked at him. Frank Myrth glared.

Stalaro summoned his cane. “Well, this just won’t do. You want others to cause trouble, yes? I suppose I can cash in a few favors to deaden things up!”

He snapped his fingers and the wall beside the fireplace cracked. The circle went dark, the fire going out. Ice cold water appeared to fill in the circle and a shadowy figure solely formed inside. Stalaro walked over and removed the dripping figure from the water. A large single white eye with a teal iris was revealed.

Frank Myrth, Phalla and I peered at the creature. With a balloon deflating sound and a puff of white smoke, the figure was revealed.

“This little rascal is Klutzy!” Stalaro announced with a worried smile, dropping the figure.

A white-skinned short cyclops female landed on her face on the floor. She stood up with a grumpy look on her face. She wore a dark blue skirt with a white stray cat off to the left side. Her arms and legs were white and thin. Her shirt was black, and her large eye took up much of her pale white face. Her short hair was light blue with a dark blue spot off to the left. She had a halo and wings with eyes and icicles on the ends.

“I’m Klutzy,” she grumbled, clenching her fists. “It’s a waste of time to meet you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen strangers.”

Her pupil narrowed from side to side.

“Why are you all men?” she asked. “Have any women here? Or video games? Screw this place.”

She briefly picked up Phalla, then let go.

“Oh man, this place is boring!” she exclaimed. She ran over to a vase and proceeded to knock it over with her elbow. It shattered to pieces on the floor. She tossed couch cushions aside.

“It really needs a more manly touch, disorganized clutter’s more fun.” She grinned as she poured dirt from a flowerpot onto the rug.

“Yes, yes, yep, yeah!” she yelled as she proceeded to break windows and knock down more stuff. Then she plopped down on a couch once the room was messy. “I’m bored. Make me some food or something.”

Phalla, Frank Myrth, and I looked on in worry, while Stalaro just stared off into space. “She has quite the temper sometimes.”

A cat angel was working on a Rubik’s cube with colleagues. His furry face was black, framed by white fur. His little top hat was white with a blue band across it. A big teal bow tie was under his neck, over his black furry chest framed by white fur. His wings were a brilliant blue, with black and red mathematical symbols on either side: the pi symbol, E = mc squared, signs for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, among others. More symbols were visible within his two pointed ears. His teeth were sharp and purple and his long eyebrows were teal. His eyes were purple and sclera white. The angel placed a Rubik’s cube in front of him. “Ha!” he declared in triumph. Read ‘em and weep, boys! Full…whoa…”

He felt himself being transported in a flash of light to the hotel. Part of the science room that the cat had been in was merged with the hotel lobby…posters of the elements, the solar system and Biblical works of art.

“What in Heaven’s name is going on?

Then he brightened when he saw Stalaro. “You!”

“Ah, Core, my old friend,” Stalaro sniffed. “You made it.”

“Glad to see you, you son of the sun!” Core said. “I just completed my Rubik’s cube after just an hour.”

The cube vanished as Stalaro looked on.

Core raced over to Stalaro and embraced him in a side hug. The dog-like man blushed. “So, what can I help you with this time?”

Stalaro blinked nervously. “C-Can we snuggle?”

Core laughed. “I mean, seriously, why’d you bring me here? You know you’re under my contract.”

“My friend, I’m doing some dirty work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services. If that’s okay?”

“You must be joking,” Core said, laughing nervously.

“I don’t think so,” he replied.

“You thought it’d be a great idea just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of tragic boy?”

“Maybe,” Stalaro sighed, as crying sounds came from his microphone.

“I ain’t doing no dirty work.”

Stalaro appeared behind him. “Well, I figured you would be the perfect face to greet and critique the guests at this fine establishment.”

“That’s not dirty work at all…”

He pointed his staff off toward a stand with vegetable drinks as claps and boos sounded from his staff.

“With your grumpy cat face and love of solitude…”

Core lifted up the corners of Stalaro mouth with his paws. “Aw come on. Don’t forget to smile once in a while!”

His mouth frowned once he let go.

Stalaro walked over to the stand. “Don’t worry, my friend. I can make this more interesting…if you wish.”

He conjured up a bottle of catnip with his finger.

Core stared with wide happy eyes. “What, you think you can buy me with sad eyes and some cheap catnip? Well, you can!” He purred and took the bottle with him.

The three of us arrived.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Phalla squealed. “Brilliant idea to have healthy drinks!”

“No!” I protested. “This is supposed to be a place that encourages moderate sin! Not some kind of, frilly, Zen, child’s play garbage!”

Core noticed Frank Myrth and slid up to him. “Hey cutie,” he flirted.

“Go screw yourself,” muttered Frank Myrth.

“Only if you watch me,” Core joked. “Or more likely, Stalaro will watch you.”

I leaned in close to Core. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! You are going to go insane here!” I grinned, her teeth sharp.

“We’re all mad here,” Core replied, sniffing the catnip. “You don’t scare me.”

Stalaro walked in, an ever-present frown on his face. “S-so, what do you think?”

“It’s amazing!” Phalla beamed.

Phalla leaned in close between me and Stalaro, embracing us in a hug.

“This is going to be very disengaging,” Stalaro exclaimed.

“Stop using that word,” I spat.

Dubstep sounds emitted from his mouth as he stared around with worry.

Stalaro changed his light blue suit into a dark blue funeral outfit with a matching top hat. He did the same with me, Frank Myrth, Core, Klutzy, and Phalla, who were all wearing black clothing from the early 1900s. I wore a short tan flapper dress and a round matching ladies’ hat. Klutzy and I stared at our outfits in disgust, while Frank Myrth, Core and Phalla smiled as they stared at theirs. The room changed, the walls now covered with Voodoo symbols, Christian crosses and paw prints.

“Take it boys,” Stalaro said. Light spirits appeared and played violins, a piano, and a flute in a sad symphony.

Stalaro sang his reprise to me as we did a slow dance, much to my disgust.

(“Stalaro’s lament Reprise”)

“You’re on a mission

Your innocence fell

And it’s so dangerous but hey, I wish you well

Yes your blunt protests

Will send you straight to Hell

And I can’t bear to see you banished, or your soul up to sell”

“Don’t bring your life to an end

No matter what you say, I’m still your friend

We all have our wounds to mend

And you’re vulnerable feelings are real, don’t pretend”

“Inside of every angel is love and emotion

They have values and lasting devotion (devotion to God)

While you recruit those around

Don’t be swallowed by the ground

The authorities can retrieve you tight and bound (no turning around)”

“Here above the sky

Spread your wings and fly

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Haven Ho…”

An explosion rattled the windows. Klutzy saw a door flying toward her face and she broke it in half with a karate chop.

The room and everyone’s clothing returned to normal.

Everyone looked outside and saw a podium in the air, held up by flying robotic baby birds. A familiar eagle debater appeared.

“Look who it is harboring the annoying opponent! We meet again, Stalaro!”

“Do I know you?” Stalaro asked.

E-Gull looked taken aback. “Oh yes, you do! Watch this presentation!”

The birds danced in the air, singing a song about E-Gull trying his best to rule Heaven. He read from notecards. “My dream is to be the best inventor…in the world. I bring joy to the young…and your hotel…may cause trouble. You all can’t compete with me. Your hotel sucks. I…shall…destroy it…with… my…”

Stalaro giggled and blushed. “Your baby weiner havor?”

E-Gull looked up from his cards in anger. “How immature!”

Stalaro snapped his fingers. A portal appeared and white tentacles shot out, knocking the podium off balance. The metal birds knocked into E-Gull, and he yelled, “Ow that hurt! Show mercy!”

Stalaro used a drop of his blood and the podium exploded in green smoke.

E-Gull emerged from the crater, wings shaking. Stalaro waved a hand, and the eagle was healed.

“Shoot me with your ray gun,” said a metal bird beside him. E-Gull rolled his eyes.

Stalaro looked on, sadly while everyone else stared, stunned.

“Anyone hungry?” Stalaro asked turning around. “Please don’t make me cook jambalaya. It’s way too spicy and it nearly killed me! I much prefer tea and sugared strawberries, oh the way they melt in my mouth… but anyway, you could say the kick brought me straight into Heaven.”

Stalaro led the way back to the hotel, the group following him.

“Yes sir, new changes are about to take place. Now…”

Stalaro waved his finger at the lit-up sign above the glass, gem-encrusted building on the roof.

The sign changed from “Hazbin Hotel” to “Haven Hotel.”

“Stay tuned.” He finished with low whimpers.

0 0 0

A week later, I stared calmly out the window of my hotel, gazing at the teal sky outside. In the distance was a golden gate similar to the one in the other Heaven and several of my Cleansers were standing guard. They had white wings with a single black stripe and wore LED masks except they were white and had no xs over the eyes. They had no horns and wore proper gold and blue armor instead of the short gray shirts and leggings the canon Exorcists wore. These fine warriors never leave their angelic weapons behind in Hell, for if they did, they’d be punished on the spot by yours truly. Their weapons can kill demons and angels alike, so we always have to be careful. Removing their masks, they looked just like regular human-like angels. If I ever met Lute, I’d teach her a thing or two.

The Exterminations still appeared to be going on in Hazbin Hell. Our angelic council often sends us news about what goes on in the canon worlds just to keep us prepared. It’s incredibly hard to enter the canon universe and if we get killed there, it’s double death. That also means the canon characters can’t get killed if they come to our universe…lucky freaks.

The white angelic key in front of me morphed into my handy white dog bodyguard, a creature with sharp pointed ears, sharp teeth, small wings, and eyes along his back. I nicknamed him “EekEek,” because he can shoot fire from his mouth when provoked. I patted him on the head before he scurried off from a knock on the door. The door opened and Phalla came in.

Phalla was my closest servant, a ditzy romantic kind of lady. She had long black curly hair with a gray outline, a teal heart over her right eye (both her eyes were fine, it was just for show), and wore a teal-green shirt with white buttons, a white collar, and a Christian Cross necklace. She had a white collar around her neck. Her skirt was white as were her leggings and she wore black shoes. A teal butterfly bowtie was in her hair near her halo. Uniquely, she had butterfly wings with eyes and white angel feathers in them.

I don’t even know her real name but apparently “Phalla” relates to “penis” due to how much she lusts after men. Unlike her, I choose my men wisely and don’t let others choose my name out of mockery. I mean, why didn’t Vaggie switch her vagina name after being with her Adam? Pathetic.

“Princess Coercia?”

“Come in.”

Phalla stepped forward. “Great to see you again, your majesty.”

I turned. “We still have our clients?”

“Yeah, they’re downstairs. You thinking about anything?”

“Family stuff, I guess.”

“Did you hear from your mom yet?”

I smiled. “She talked to me yesterday. Said I was bold to start this hotel project, but she’d support it if it makes more of our people happy.”

“And your dad?”

I sighed. “Too busy as always. Still doesn’t like my idea. Says I’m breaking too many of Heaven’s bulls**t rules.”

“No need to swear all the time,” Phalla chided.

“Swearing is caring,” I smirked.

“Sometimes I think you’d fit better with those edgy demons in Hazbin Hell.”

I scoffed. “At least as a kid, I was brave enough to try a few drops of forbidden fruit in the garden when my parents weren’t looking. Made my wings black and sharpened my free will instincts. Drove them crazy. Why they didn’t have anyone guarding that tree and preventing Roo’s escape even in our world is beyond me.”

Phalla chuckled. “Frank Myrth is cute.”

“What?” I rolled my eyes.

“He is, though. Totally against drugs and porn and all that. And those cute dragonfly wings he has.”

“Whatever. My angel wings are the best there is, and they aren’t even white. Now let’s go get started on our hotel commercial.”

“Our commercial has no chance of being recognized here; even less in the canon worlds…”

“I’ll take my chances,” I said.

The church bells tolled happily from outside as I followed Phalla downstairs.

0 0 0

The television screen later showed my commercial for the Haven Hotel. It first showed two angels with white wings looking bored on a cloud. One had his head on his hand, and another was absentmindedly strumming a small harp.

I began. “Hello there ordinary Saints! Are you tired of following the same rules over and over again? Are Bible study lectures, sermons, and community charities not enough for you? Do you still like to help others? Of course, you do, that’s why you’re in Heaven! But what if I told you there was a place where you could experience true freedom?”

The scene shifted to show a large building made of marble in the sky. A white winged key with a gold eye in the center served as the front piece and the double front doors were golden. The walls were decorated with small sapphires in diamond shapes. The top sign on the roof read in lights: “HAVEN HOTEL.” Off to the left side, attached to the building, was a blue tower which housed a small studio for the angel Stalaro, complete with a dancing pole and a dubstep stereo inside. The lawn in front had golden grass and a Christian Cross on it.

“Welcome to the Haven Hotel,” I announced, “Your path to freedom and safety…founded not too long ago by yours truly, Princess Coerciona Vespar!” I posed with rocker signs and a black crown on my head. “Come place your fate in my hands, and discover your true self, as long as you follow my every command!” The slides showed a drawing of me posing on a golden podium while white-winged subjects prostrated themselves before me. Pub and Chub looked like large butler babies with black wings and thick arrows in their hands as they opened the doors. Above the mantle in the parlor room showed a portrait of me holding a spear and above that was the glowing blue sigil of Archangel Michael. EekEek slept under an onyx table near two blue couches, the frames decorated with eyes. The light fixtures had the appearances of doves and the light blue wallpaper had Hesperius’ royal symbols on it: a dove surrounded by six white wings.

“Look at this gorgeous parlor! And check out our new resident…Frank Myrth, I think his name is.”

Frank Myrth did a small wave before continuing his protection business on a computer. He wore a black suit with teal green vertical stripes, long teal-green gloves, and a white bowtie with a teal center. His right eye was black, and his left eye was white with a blue-green iris. He had white fur like Angel Dust, but he also had four dragonfly wings with eyes on them and white angel feathers. He also wore long white boots.

“We have the best rooms, cleaned by our maid, Klutzy. Hey, Ice Girl!”

A small cyclops turned around and blushed. She had one large blue eye, white skin, short light blue hair with a dark blue streak in it and a halo over her head. She wore a black shirt and a blue dress with a white cat design on it. Her thin arms and legs were white. She was eating a hamburger while a lady model magazine and a video game controller were by her side.

“Are you being messy and lazy again?”

“No?” she asked with a yawn. Icicles briefly hung from her white wings.

“Shouldn’t you get to work so more people can come in and adore my hotel?”

“Well, I was gonna keep playing ‘Slay That Demon,’ but…I guess if it’s for you…just don’t invite any men!”

She slouched and got to work.

“Gotta love that gal!” I chuckled.

“And let’s not forget our bartender of mostly non-alcoholic drinks, Core!”

A tall white cat grinned widely as he folded his hands in prayer. A Bible was next to him on the counter. He had large white wings with lots of eyes and a teal-green stripe with white small Christian Crosses along it. He wore a white top hat with a black Christian Cross and a black Christian Cross necklace. His eyebrows were long and teal with small white stripes on the ends. He wore all white clothing and his tail had blue and green scales on it.

“Welcome to the Haven Hotel, may I interest you in our tenants and the wonderous teachings of Jesus?”

“Hey, you’re not Core!” Phalla exclaimed.

“No,” he replied. “I’m his twin brother Leeson. Core’s doing sacred geometry at a university.”

Phalla facepalmed.

I scoffed. “I don’t even know what his deal is. Creep.”

The camera moved and a frightened bark sounded.

“Oh yeah, let’s not forget the d**k-loving coward, Stalaro! Say hello, loser!”

The blue dog angel frowned at the camera. He wore a light blue suit with navy blue horizontal stripes and a white bowtie. His undershirt was blue with a white Christian Cross design in the center. He had a halo and white angel wings, white pants, light blue sleeves, and white shoes with blue tips. His blue monocle was under his left eye. His two large blue eyes were usually filled with sadness. He carried a magic white microphone with angel wings at the top and a square blue speaker with a white pawprint in the center. He had a gray face and thick blue hair with white tips at the bottom. Finally, he had a thick furry tail in various shades of blue and two large blue and white dog ears.

“This freak likes sweets, dubstep music, light magic, and looking at nude men. He’s always worried about something.” I smirked. “Hey, Stalaro, fetch me some water!”

Stalaro gulped and ran from the room, appearing later with a glass of water. “H-here you go, your majesty!”

“Thank you,” I said. “He’s a great servant, such a coward!”

“P-please don’t be mean!” Phalla called from nearby.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of…” I began as the camera shifted to a shot of the hotel again. “All this and more at the Haven Hotel! Your path to greatness starts here!” The words on the screen read in bold blue, “CALL NOW! PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW OF FIVE STARS OR MORE…unless you’d like to volunteer for target practice!”

I turned off the TV, turned around and smiled. “So, what you do think?!”

Phalla and Stalaro sat dumbfounded on the blue couch.

“Um…” Phalla began, “I don’t really know what that was…”

“Only the best, right?” I grinned.

Phalla began. “One note, Coercia, thank you for so much for making this…seriously amazing…but, maybe the tone is a bit…off…”

I narrowed my eyes.

“We want people to come here,” Phalla said, “And you come across as…um…”

“Selfish,” Stalaro stuttered. “That’s the word.”

“Oh really?” I inquired, pacing back and forth. “I was going for amazing! It’s my hotel, after all.”

“Well not everyone is going to want to serve you right and left,” said Phalla. “There may be royals that come here, too, and you of all people should know when to treat those with respect.”

“As long as they do so for me first,” I said.

“They’ll be freaked out at your…appearance,” Stalaro said. “You aren’t exactly…”

I glanced at my wings. “Bubbly and loving? That’s the point,” I said.

“We’re also part of this team,” Phalla said. “We need to work together, it’s not all about you.”

“Well,” I shrugged, getting an idea. “I suppose if you all want to be at the forefront, I can relax with a Bloody Mother Mary instead.”

Phalla glared at me. Frank Myrth raised his hand.

“Yes?” Phalla asked, blushing at him. Frank Myrth blushed too.

“If you guys are filing a commercial, perhaps we can also discuss our earthly accomplishments, to peak up interests?”

“Your former anti-mafia police career on Earth was fine, but that’s off topic,” Phalla mentioned.

Frank Myrth shrugged. “Just thought I’d throw that out there. Haven Hotel could be a safe place to share past lives.”

“Only if you’re a Saint,” Coercia said. “We need more inclusion.”

“Says the only Heavenborn here,” Leeson mentioned. “I’m surprised that this place isn’t only for Saints.”

I bared my teeth. “It’s for any angel who wants safety from the Satanics. They could attack at any time.”

“So…Satanics can harm any angel, not just Sinners?” asked Klutzy.

“If you’re an Archangel, canon Hazbin character or mythical figure, you’re immune to them,” said Leeson. “Yes, that means you’re vulnerable, too, Coercia.”

I had to admit it was true, but I wanted to strangle that cat in the hat so bad.

Leeson continued. “Also, I believe the Hazbin Exorcists have killed Hellborn demons on the side, not just Sinners.”

“Not surprised,” I said.

“Would you kick angels out into the Satanics if they didn’t follow your rules?” Phalla asked.

I glared. “Depends.”

“A Heavenborn royal willing to let someone be turned into a filthy Sinner just for not obeying you? How low,” Leeson snapped.

“You want me to rip your whiskers off, pussy?” I seethed. “I love you and your philosophies, but go too extreme right and…”

“You’re just an extreme left away from the demons,” Leeson retorted.

“Then why are you even here at this place of freedom? I’m only against the bad Christian bias, not the good parts of it. I’m all for Jesus and love and all that…I just hate it when some people are so stubborn that they get lost in their beliefs and boss others around.”

Leeson snickered. “Ego issues much, hypocrite?”

“Both of you are equally annoying,” Klutzy mentioned. “All I need is some cold, slowness and quiet.” With a glare, she slurped frozen golden ambrosia from a cup with a straw, ignoring the food stains on her dress.

“You’ll get it soon, slob,” Leeson spat. “You’re the epitome of gluttony and sloth.”

“I guess not even angels are perfect,” Phalla added.

“What are you talking about? Angels don’t make mistakes,” I stated.

“Yeah, Hazbin Adam and Lute believed that but look what Lucifer did that got him where he is now,” Stalaro said.

“Good point,” I conceded with a sigh.

Stalaro cleared his throat and did a small smile. “Uh…princess, do you think you could film me snuggling with Frank Myrth? You know, to show this place has love and happiness in it? For those who may secretly like the more…intimate things?”

“I don’t think so,” Frank Myrth made a disgusted face. Stalaro whined glumly. “Okay, then.” Stalaro knew better than to ask Core later…he was under him in a divine contract. Core didn’t have his soul, but Core could ask him to do divine favors on occasion.

“Could I snuggle with you?” Phalla smiled at Frank Myrth.

“Please do,” Frank Myrth grinned in return.

“Get a room, freaks,” I rolled my eyes.

Just then, my cell phone rang with a ringtone of demon screams. “I’ll be back,” I said. I walked off to the side and answered it. “Hello Mother, how are you?”

My face fell and a scowl appeared. “Wait, what? He said that…oh come on! Okay, I’ll be right there.” I hung up.

“What’s going on?” Phalla asked.

“My mother called. She said that Adam…our Adam wants to meet me. Says that my hatred of demons is too strong and to be more ‘harmonious toward others.’ Give me a break.”

“When’s the meeting?”

“Today.” My eyes brightened. “Oh, I know! I will pitch my hotel idea and then I’ll pitch an idea to move the Extermination up six months instead of a year!”

“In our Hell or Hazbin Hell?”

“Both!” I grinned.

“Hazbin Adam already did that,” Phalla mentioned.

“No, he didn’t,” I said.

“As reverse denizens created after the canon characters, we can receive information about the future events of the Hazbin world, provided we don’t interfere.”

“Your talk is nonsense, Phalla! Protecting Heaven is my job!”

“But slaying Sinners in our Hell is very dangerous. It’s not like they just run away and scream; they actually fight back! It’s the reason the Cleansers only do it once a year! To end those suffering for long periods of time and to potentially choose others for Purgatory.”

“Then perhaps I need to train my warriors harder!” I raised my fist. “Find a way to eliminate all the Sinners so they don’t decide to become Satanics and invade our world like they’ve been doing for who knows how long! Never just once a year…they’ve come at such random times!”

“There’s way too many of them,” Phalla warned. “Satanics train for years and they are often regular demons. And besides, Sinners are already being punished by the Seven Deadly Sins until they can try again in Purgatory and on Earth again. That’s how it works.”

“I can see why Hazbin Heaven was so worried about a demon uprising,” Leeson added. “But they would have better reason for an Extermination if the Satanics were also there and if Roo was a confirmed threat.”

“Very true,” I finished. “But it’s not as much fun when I don’t get to be the one that does it,” I grumbled.

“You know you can’t go down there without permission from your parents and the Archangels. Once a year is enough in my opinion.”

“Says you,” I muttered in disappointment. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the meeting and to declare how much I hate this place.”

“I thought you loved your people,” Phalla said. “And I thought you would go out and sing!”

“I do…” I replied, adjusting my black pointed crown, “…if they don’t get in my way. And singing? Um…I guess I’ll do…’Just Another Crappy Day in Heaven’…ugh, I can’t make things up on the spot…”

Phalla groaned as I stormed off.

(I’m not one for cheesy musicals unless they are epic rock solos. I didn’t even bring my electric guitar with me! So, I’ll just skip my embarrassing yelling and swearing and shoving angels around as I made my way to a golden Heaven Embassy building. Maybe I’ll write the song before a concert or something.)

0 0 0

The meeting with Adam and Jesus went about as well as you’d expect…utter crap. And Jesus mostly just stood there as a holograph, listening to me and Adam debate.

“Coercia,” said Adam as he sat in a chair across from me at a round light blue table with high backed light blue chairs. We were in a small meeting room, a similar one that Charlie, Adam and Lute met in. It had blue Egyptian-fan wallpaper, stained glass windows of Christian Crosses, a few seats, a globe with angel wings on it. It had more stained-glass window designs of an Ophanim shooting rays down toward flames. There were even Exorcist sculptures protruding from the walls. Indeed, we were at one of the many golden Heaven Embassy buildings. Adam had short brown/black hair, a goatee, and white skin, looking just like his Hazbin counterpart. He even wore the same outfit with the “A” in the center of his white and golden robe. He had a golden halo and golden angel wings. He even had a matching golden harp-shaped guitar, the top of the guitar a harp shape and the main part curved and golden. However…his eyes were full of kindness and he displayed none of the arrogance of the canon Adam. Strangely enough, Adam enjoyed both ribs and apples. He was actually there in person, not a holograph like Jesus was behind him.

Nonetheless, it still didn’t make me happy when he said things like…

“You are still very young and very headstrong. The people of Heaven count on you and if you dive down into Hell and are killed down there, it’ll cause great fear up here.”

“At least I’ll die with honor,” I said.

“By becoming food for Roo? I don’t think so,” Adam shook his head. “I appreciate you wanting to protect your people. But creating a hotel just to break the rules…”

“To have liberation from mental suffering…” I cut in. “Do you really expect our people to enjoy paradise if they can’t have sex before their afterlife marriages? Or have gay relationships that are 100% accepted as they are in the Hazbin Hell? Or worse yet, have Saints be oblivious to their Sinner ex-family members in both worlds?”

Adam held out a hand. “I’ll explain. Our community is very accepting of all genders and sexualities…”

“Then why doesn’t anyone mention gay marriages on TV here? Why is divorce still a long process? Why are the Heavenborn still getting the best things?”

“Why are you going off topic?” Adam asked.

“Because all these things are connected. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many Sinners if there were more lenient rules.”

“Rules and customs take years or even centuries to change…even here. Being cautious is better than letting people run amok.”

“It’s only a matter of time before some people break down from all the stress and rules.”

“We have healing hypnotic hymns for that.”

I scoffed. “Magic can’t solve everything. Please tell me there’ve been people from here who’ve fallen to Hell.”

“Sadly, yes, but it’s not very common,” explained Adam.

“Then you admit our world and angels are not perfect either.”

Adam somberly sighed. “We do our best for the Lord, and you should, too. Yes, just like Hazbin Heaven, the denizen’s memories of Earth and their Sinner ex-family members are wiped clean. It would be heartbreaking for them to find out that they went to either Hazbin Hell or our Hell. They’d probably try to rescue them, and we all know that is utter suicide. If the citizens become too much like the demons because of your project, they will fall to either one of the Hells and you’ll be held responsible.”

“It would be their fault alone. And rapists and murderers are still family to them, right?” I almost couldn’t believe what I was saying. “So…Sinners can be redeemed right to Heaven, at least in the Hazbin world and the reverse is still true.”

“But you would be the one that encouraged the people to sin in the first place,” Adam pointed out. “Royalty can only do so much before they too, must suffer the consequences. Micheal can easily banish you just like Lucifer if you aren’t careful.”

I seethed, my eyes downcast, not knowing any retorts. Adam looked down upon me…I suddenly felt small and feeble.

“I hereby deny your request to move our Extermination up by six months. We don’t need to take any unnecessary risks. Your job is to save our people up here…and the Cleansers send the message in Hell once per year…‘We choose worthy Sinners to go through Purgatory, and those who have no life left in them shall be slain from their cycle of suffering to the second death.’ Dismissed, your majesty.”

“Man, these worlds are f***ing confusing,” I stomped in defeat, slamming the doors and walking out.

When I got back and entered the hotel, Phalla was waiting for me.

“Feel better, your majesty?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied in sarcasm. “If losing to authority and swearing as you walk back works. And I still can’t think of good song lyrics for this s…”

“Wait until you see this,” she said, pulling me to the couch. The whole group was sitting there. Frank Myrth sat up straight in a chair. Stalaro leaned on his cane. Klutzy lounged on the floor. I sat next to Phalla who beamed with excitement. “Oh, I can’t wait to see us on TV! The way we show our love for our people in every scene!”

“It probably won’t be as good without me in it,” I pointed out. “I’m surprised you didn’t just keep mine.”

“And I know that Phalla will look beautiful in each shot,” Frank Myrth smiled, wiggling an eyebrow.

“Shh! It’s starting!” I hissed.

On TV, Phalla smiled as she stood with the group in front of the hotel sans Leeson. They were all dressed in blue, purple and white 1920’s outfits. (Core made Stalaro create them with his magic once he found out about their project, go figure.)

“Welcome to the heavenly Haven Hotel!” Phalla began, before the screen buzzed and cut to the 777News logo and choir music. Everyone groaned in anger.

Catie Carejoy and Ron Wrench appeared on screen, a black-haired woman wearing a blue dress and a male angel with wheels for a head, holding a wrench in his hands and wearing a gray suit. Three black menacing Exorcists appeared on an image on the screen with “EXTERMINATION” under it in red.

“Breaking news in Hazbin Hell today,” reported Catie Carejoy. “We have just received word from the angel messenger council that the next Extermination is happening sooner than ever before. Hell’s princess Charlie Morningstar met with the arrogant canon version of Adam, who, after being upset about the murder of one of his Exorcists, decided to move it up to six months. As expected, her idea to redeem Sinners at her hotel has not yet shown any progress.”

“Do you know what that means, Catie?” asked Ron Wrench.

“No, what does that mean, Ron?”

“It means they are totally screwed!”

“But…we’re safe, right?”

“Of course we are. We’re talking about a different universe here. Though…still keep your eyes peeled for Satanics. They may get fired up after hearing of war in other worlds. Remember, they can transform angels of all kinds into demons…”

“…even pretty royal princesses…” Leeson grinned in my head, making me briefly flinch in horror. He snickered at his use of telepathy. One of my greatest fears was turning into one of…them. I could almost feel sorry for Hazbin Adam and his future demonic fate. (Angels can see future events, too, just not future events in our own universe, which is pathetic.)

“Anyway, goodbye Hazbin Sinners…” Catie Carejoy finished with a worried look.

Recovering, I laughed manically in excitement and Leeson did a “go figure” look while the rest of the group howled in horror.

“Come on guys! This is great!” I declared, standing up. “Those Sinners are getting what they deserve!”

“But they are still human souls…” Phalla countered.

“Being murdered by their own kind if the Exorcists are ex-human!” Stalaro said, suddenly not passive.

“Not too different than the Sinners who die in our Hell,” I shrugged.

“The Hazbin Sinners are more relatable and less…monstrous,” Phalla argued. “Based on what they have shown us on TV.”

“They are not supposed to be. They had their chance on Earth!”

“I have to agree with princess here,” Leeson said with an eerie slim smile. “There is no mercy for the dammed.”

“Then why allow them second chances anyway?” asked Klutzy. “Why allow Hazbin Sinners immortality and free will to do what they want in Hell and not learn their lessons?”

“Because Lucifer is a goofy moron clown,” I replied. “At least, the canon version. Insult our Lucifer and you’ll be turned into a snack.”

“Being stuck in their habits in their world isn’t a good thing. Ironically…” Stalaro began. “In the Hazbin world, Sinners who die noble deaths and overcome their vices can be turned into angels. They only have to do it once. In our universe, they have to prove themselves many times in different ways to make sure it sticks.”

“But they can still die a second death!” I exclaimed.

“Or repent. Or redeem. Or reincarnate. The choices are endless,” said Stalaro.

“So…there is free will…?” I pondered.

“Rather like…more forced choices,” Phalla worded.

“More options…more free will,” I stated. “No use sympathizing with people we don’t know about, especially other demons.”

I stretched and yawned after a pause. “Thanks for a good for nothing commercial, since, you know, there was nothing to see! I’m going to bed.” I strolled off, leaving behind my bewildered and worried group.

“What are we gonna do?” Phalla whispered in a low concerned voice. “I love Coercia, but she only cares about herself and doing what she wants. And she doesn’t care about any human souls.”

“But there’s us,” Klutzy said. “We all used to live on Earth.”

“Yeah, but she’s a Heavenborn, after all,” said Stalaro.

“Not all Heavenborns are stuck-up,” Phalla said. “Jesus always spread the message of second chances…’love thy neighbor.’ What if even faraway demons are our greater neighbors?”

“Coercia hates humans and demons,” said Leeson. “I’m only here because Coercia enjoyed my Bible talks and how we both like Adina. You know, the demon-hating lady. And Core is joining because he likes helping people.”

“I’m here because Core dragged me along,” Stalaro whimpered.

“I’m here because it’s free room and board from…sexy royalty,” Klutzy added with a smirk.

“I’m here because I admire Coercia’s incredible discipline and her army,” Frank Myrth added.

“And I’m here because I’ve been her only outside servant and friend,” Phalla said. “Although she can be mean…I still don’t want her to…fall.”

The group sat in stunned silence. Stalaro stroked the white dog’s fur and he smiled softly.

“Very weird how such an arrogant rebel could bring a group of angelic misfits together,” Frank Myrth mentioned. “I think we should give her a chance. I mean, if all goes wrong, we can all at least walk out.”

“But she can overpower us all,” Stalaro worried.

“Let’s just be on our best behavior,” Phalla added. “Coercia may be bossy, but she has good intentions. She does want her people safe from the Satanics. And she does care about others having freedom almost as much as for herself.”

Frank Myrth pondered and then smiled. “You really do see the good in people, don’t you?”

Phalla smiled. “Trust is what I do best. So…you guys with me?”

Everyone nodded.

“Then it’s settled. Let the Haven Hotel’s grand opening begin! Tomorrow, of course.”

Everyone yawned in agreement and headed to bed.

#2phazbinhotel

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mrxcreepypasta1991 · 2 years

Text

For: @toxic-and-the-gang

New Muse!

The Rose Tribe (Sonic AU)

Reminder: If you see "numbers of groups" of the Rose Tribe, there will be many of them. Thank you. ^^

1st Muse (Queen & Chief):

Boom Shakalaka Rose

Alias:

• The Tribal Queen of The Rose Tribe

• The Chief of the Rose Tribe

• The Heroine of Mobius

About: Boom Shakalaka Rose is the Queen & Chief of the Rose Tribe. The only Alpha Female who holds a crystal ball, and the one who wields a Piko Piko Hammer.

Age: 25 years old

Gender: Female

Sex: Straight

Occupation:

• The Queen of the Rose Tribe

• The Chief of the Rose Tribe

• The Ultimate Defender of the Rose Tribe Village

• The Heroine of Mobius

Love Interests ❤:

• Jonathan "Sonic" Afton (He is the chosen one to be her King and Second Chief of the Rose Tribe)

2nd Muse (Villagers):

The Rose Villagers

Alias:

• The Rose Tribe Villagers

• Pink Savages (By Dr. Robotnik/Eggman)

• Wild Pink Hedgehogs

About: These group of Savages are known as The Rose Villagers, they hunt for food

Numbers of Groups: At three groups of 3,000, which makes it and equal 9,000

Boom Shakalaka Rose's Gaurds (The ones who have red wire and blue feathers on their head who wear zebra dresses):

• Amy-Gar Rose

• Amy-Tar Rose

• Ami Rose

• Amu Rose

• Ymi Rose

• Yumi Rose

• Yuni Rose

• Ame Rose

High Priest (The the one who wears many feathers on hear head)

• Snusnu Rose

Shawomen (The ones that wear blue and red spots dress):

• Maddie Rose

• Ames Rose

Medical/First Aid (the ones who wear red with white spots tribal dress and red feathers on top of their head):

• Medic Rose

• Amber Rose

• Nurse Rosy Rose

• Dr. Amantha Rose

Ages:

• 20 years old (Some of them)

• 21 years old (Few of them)

• 22 years old (Most of them)

Genders: Female (All)

Sexes: Straight

Occupations:

• Hunters (for animal meat)

• Water Carriers (for Water)

• Sacrifice Traditionalists (Few of them)

Weapons: Piko Piko Spears

Allies:

• Sonic

• Tails

• Tailsko

• Knuckles

• Amy Rose

• Cream the Rabbit

• Big the Cat

• Honey the Cat

• Blaze the Cat

• Silver the Hedgehog

• The rest of the Freedom Fighters

Neutral:

• Shadow the Hedgehog

• Rouge the Bat

• Vector the Crocodile

• Charmy the Bee

• Espio the Chameleon

• Mighty the Armadillo

Enemies:

• Dr. Eggman/Robotnik

• Metal Sonic

• Eggman's Robots

• Dr. Starline

Love Interests ❤:

• Jonathan "Sonic" Afton (He is the chosen one)

3rd Muse (Warriors):

The Rose Warriors

Alias:

• The Piko Piko Warriors

• The First Defenders of the Rose Tribe

• The First heroes with White and Red Feathers

About: The Rose Tribe Warriors are a group of feathered warriors who weilds a Piko Piko Hammer that attacks against any enemies to protect the village from pure evil.

Number of Groups: 1,000

Ages: 21 years old

Genders: Female (All)

Sexes: Straight

Occupation:

• The Tribal Warriors

Love Interests ❤:

• Jonathan "Sonic" Afton (He is the chosen one)

4th Muse (Backup Warriors):

The Rose Backup Warriors

Alias:

• The Piko Piko Assistance Warriors

• The Second Defenders of the Rose Tribe

• The Second Heroes of the Rose Tribe

About: The Rose Tribe Backup Warriors are a group of feathered backup warriors who wields a Piko Piko Hammer that attacks against other enemies if the warriors need some assistance to protect their own villiage.

Number of Groups: 2,000

Ages: 22 years old

Genders: Female (All)

Sexes: Straight

Occupation:

• The Tribal Backup Warriors

Love Interests ❤:

• Jonathan "Sonic" Afton (He is the chosen one)

5th Muse:

The Rose Crop Farmers

Alias:

• The Three Feathered Farmers

• The Crop Growers of the Rose Tribe

• The Harvesters of Corn, Wheat, Fruits & other Vegetables

About: The Rose Tribe Crop Farmers are a group of farmers that grow crops for food to harvest corn, wheat, vegetables, and fruits.

Number of Groups: 500

Ages:

• 18 years old (Few of them)

• 20 to 21 years old (Most of them)

Genders: Female

Sexes: Straight

Occupation:

• Tribal Farmers

• Tribal Harvesters

Love Interests ❤:

Jonathan "Sonic" Afton (He is the chosen one)

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mudaship39 · 1 year

Text

Dossier, Profile, Record, & Archive: High King/High Queen Kana’i Makoa Latu/Ataahua Kamalani Latu:

Real Names:

Polynesian name: Kana’i Makoa Latu/Ataahua Kamalani Latu.

Asian name: Ryuu Kato/Haruka Kato or Guang/Biyu Wei.

Afro-Latine name: Francisco Alejandro Diego Garcia Ochoa/Francisca Alejandra Maria Garcia Ochoa.

English name: Alexander Mack “Alex” Smith/Alexandria Macy “Lexi” Smith.

Alien extraterrestrial name: Zana Saani

Demigod/Deity name: Kalani

Ethnicity: Asian Pasifika and Afro Latine Native.

Racial Identity:

A mixed East Asian Japanese and Chinese Asian and European British person of color

A South American Colombian, Bolivian, Argentine, & Chilean Afro Latine person of color.

Cultural Identity:

A Polynesian Hawaiian, Samoan, and Tongan Indigenous Pasifika of Oceania.

South American Baniwa and Embera Indigenous Ameridian of Colombia and Chorote Indigenous of Bolivia and Argentina.

Species:

A Polynesian Indigenous Pasifika Oceanic demigod

Descendent of Namaka a Polynesian Hawaiian water goddess, Chinese god Hou Yi, an unknown Tongan god rediscovered after reconnecting after post cultural genocide, and Amaterasu a Japanese sky goddess

An alien Iuyamanian and Ethanxiian extraterrestrial hybrid. They are a shapeshifter as an alien hybrid. They are queer and trans as someone Indigenous third gender. Their masculine, feminine, and nonbinary genderless and androgynous gender forms reflect that.

He/she/they are an alien Iuyamnian and Ethanxiian alien hybrid. Iuyumanians are warm blooded mammal aliens with orange skin, yellow eyes, red hair, & red and black striped fur. Ethanxiians are cold blooded reptilian and amphibian aliens with reptilian scales and avian feathers. Ethanxiians also have green skin, blue hair, and purple eyes. His/her/their mother’s alien form and his/her/their alien form both reflect this.

Height:

Depends on gender and gender identity.

He/she/they have transformed gender forms and untransformed gender forms.

He/she/they have a 5’11” male masculine untransformed form that identifies with he/him pronouns.

He/she/they have a 6’1” female feminine untransformed form that identifies with she/her pronouns.

He/she/they have a 6’3” nonbinary genderless untransformed form that identifies with the pronouns of they/them.

He/she/they have a 6’5” nonbinary androgynous untransformed form that identifies with the pronouns of xer/xers.

Weight:

Depends on gender and gender identity.

Body Type:

Lean, tone, & athletic body type

Hairstyle:

Human Form:

He/she/they like short hair styles.

He/she/they like the pompadour, clipper cut, pixie cut, or crew cut.

He/she/they like medium to long hairstyles

Afrocentric hairstyles of braids, twists, & dreadlocks

He/she/they have a clipper cut, crew cut, high and tight, Ivy League, pompadour, or clean shaven hairstyle in masculine male form. It’s tightly coiled. It is a tall or high Afro tapered on the sides. With a low skin fade with a design and locs on top. The design shaved into their low skin fade is a sacred geometrical alien extraterrestrial symbol. The locs are braided with alien metal braids as an alien hybrid superhuman. The locs are beaded with divine wooden beads as a divine demigod metahuman. Some parts of the locs are dyed red, blue, purple, or green.

Long ponytail that is partly shaved in a punk look. Single or double three strand flat braid. When in female form when shapeshifting as a metamorph, changeling, or shapeshifter. Sections of his/her/their hair are adorned and braided with divine bamboo wood beads, ash wood beads, elm wood beads, holly wood, & pine wood beads. Sections of his/her/their hair are braided with divine bronze, silver, & gold metal braid beads.

They also wear their hair in a bouffant hairstyle. He/she/they structured part of his/her/their loosely knotted or twisted pinned up buns with divine silver, brass, & gold wire. Sections of his/her/their hair are adorned and braided with divine bamboo wood beads, ash wood beads, elm wood beads, holly wood, & pine wood beads. Sections of his/her/their hair are braided with divine bronze, silver, & gold metal braid beads.

Alien Form:

Bundles of tendril, cord, or tentacle-like hair similar to Yautja Predators or Zerg infested Sarah Kerrigan that are tied together in a long ponytail. His/her/their bioluminescent cord, tentacle, or tendril-like hair help with telepathy and empathy. They help them breathe, see, hear, & taste. These tendril-like hairs are braided with alien metal and divine wooden beads. This alien hair is an important link to their alien extraterrestrial culture. The tendril, cord, or tentacle like hair comes out of a head crest of her alien skull.

Hair color:

When not transformed: Black.

When transformed: white, red, gold, blue, green, purple, & black.

He/she/they have light brown, to dark brown, to black hair in his/her/their untransformed form

Eye color:

When not transformed: Dark Brown.

When transformed: white, gold, blue, green, red, purple, & black.

He/she/they have dark brown to black colored eyes.

Skin color: When not transformed: As an Asian Pasifika and Afro Latine Native their skin tone is terra cotta, russet, ochre, sepia, or umber. Kissed by the sun.

When transformed: gold, blue, green, red, & purple.

Their bioluminescent skin absorbs solar radiation, lunar energy, cosmic energy, & natural energy to give them superhuman and supernatural strength, perception, endurance, speed, lifespan, intelligence, agility, senses, durability, reflexes, and flexibility. The absorbed solar radiation, cosmic energy, and lunar energy also powers their optic blasts, energy blasts, breath blasts, & flight as an alien hybrid

Age:

Middle aged. Has longevity as a demigod metahuman and alien hybrid superhuman with a supernatural and superhuman lifespan.

Born in the 22nd Century. Currently alive in the 60th century as a metahuman and superhuman

Scar marks:

Healed scars from experimentation. Healed scars from torture and interrogation. Healed scars from self harm caused by mental illnesses.

Extra features:

Alien Form:

His/her/their transformed form has alien hair, skin, & eyes.

His/her/their transformed form’s body is covered in mammalian fur with stripes, avian feathers, and reptilian and amphibian scales (that covers his/her/their chest, back, arms, & legs).

His/her/their transformed form has webbed clawed (retractable) hands with opposable thumbs and webbed clawed (retractable) feet with opposable toes.

His/her/their transformed form has a prehensile chimera tail that is covered in avian feathers and reptilian scales.

He/she/they are an alien Iuyamnian and Ethanxiian alien hybrid.

Iuyumanians are bipedal warm blooded mammalian aliens. Iuyamanians have orange skin, yellow eyes, red hair, & red and black striped mammalian fur. Iuyumanians have clawed (retractable) hands with opposable thumbs and clawed (retractable) feet with opposable toes. Iuyamians have a prehensile tail. Iuyamanians have a lion-like mane, dire wolf-like lupine canines, lupine gray wolf-like ears, dire wolf like snout, kitsune nine tailed fox demon-like whiskers, & retractable smilodon-like saber teeth. They have three horns coming out of their head. They have four eyes. They are bipedal and quadrupedal and are capable of running faster on four legs. They can reach speeds of up to 120 miles per hour and can run 80 miles per hour for hours.

Ethanxiians are bipedal cold blooded reptilian, avian, & amphibian aliens with avian feathers, reptilian scales, and amphibian scales. They have reptilian scales, non-corporeal ethereal avian feathered wings that allows them to fly at 350 miles per hour. Ethanxiians have webbed clawed reptilian hands and webbed clawed feet. Ethanxiians also have green skin, blue hair, and purple eyes. Ethanxiians have a reptilian prehensile lizard tail. They have three eyes. Ethanxiians when in reptilian form have reptilian retractable serpentine fangs and forked tongue. When in avian form Ethanxiians have a avian raptor beak, avian eyes that see near 360 degree vision, and avian raptor clawed feet with talons.

His/her/their mother’s alien form and his/her/their alien form both reflect this.

Aquatic Form:

They have an aquatic bipedal form for swimming underwater that looks like a were shark. This form has mako shark skin on their body, magical elemental hair made out of seawater, mako shark fins on their body, great white shark fin on their back, webbed clawed feet, weet clawed hands, seven inch megalodon like teeth in their mouth, bull shark gills on their neck and chest, tiger shark stripes on their arms and legs, glowing blue eyes, kaluga fish fins on their face, blue and green sturgeon like fish scales on their body, a great white shark tail, whale shark spots on their chest and back, & a humanoid merfolk or triton like face. They have glowing bioluminescent skin. They have glowing ethereal Atlantean tattoos and Atlantean characters on their bodies. They have Indigenous Pasifika tattoos on their face, neck, chest, back, arms, & legs. They wear Indigenous Pasifika jewelry such as bracelets, rings, & necklaces. They wear shark tooth necklaces. They wear Atlantean steel combat armor decorated with sea turtle, manta ray, shark, & dolphin designs. Their weapons are Atlantean swords, axes, spears, clubs, & war hammer made out of atlantean steel. They rule with a five pronged quident made out of Atlantean steel and a circlet of power made out of precious metals and decorated with gemstones. These weapons are enchanted with arcane elemental magical water and serrated with seven inches long megalodon shark teeth. They can swim up to 200 miles per hour.

As a Bionic/Cyborg:

Cybernetic Implants

Bionic Enhancements

Has many mod slots for upgrading and customizing nano machines, cyberware, cybernetic implants, & bionic enhancements

Brain computer interface that allow uploading and downloading data

Can plug in to hack holographic computers, holographic smartphones, holographic televisions, & other electronics,

Human metal and alien metal enhanced skeleton and muscles for supernatural strength, endurance, and durability

Microchip implants that allow fast diagnosis and monitor health in real time

Metal reinforced joints for supernatural flexibility, speed, & reflexes

Has nanomachines for supernatural healing

Sex:

Female.

Assigned female at birth or AFAB

Gender:

Non Binary

Mahu/Fakaleiti Indigenous Pasifika Third Gender of Oceania

Third gender of Amerindian Indigenous people of South America

Gender Identity:

Nonbinary or Genderfluid

Has both male and female genitalia

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual/Pansexual

Spirituality:

Buddhist

South American Indigenous Colombian spirituality

Polynesian Indigenous Pasifika pagan.

Jaothean alien polytheistic pagan religion

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lapinaraoflimbo · 1 year

Text

Xanadu is a really interesting character. In my head he is "absolutely hated" but that's not true at all. He's just hated by the two characters I've written about the most.

I think the most interesting part of Xanadu is the "he". He is a mess of wires the size of a city. He isn't human- doesn't even have a body. He's one of the only original rotted that I've even given a gender. Hellfire isn't actually gendered outside of her surface persona. (maybe one day I'll actually explore what lies underneath in a story) Steph is actually based off of a Bloodborne character called "Kpop Steph" and was female at one point- his gender is only masculine insomuch as he feels like it. The Shadow mother seems gendered on the surface but that title comes from the types of people that she protects and the role she plays there. She doesn't have a name or a "real" gender outside of the roles and relationships she has to others (also an interesting character that I really need to explore more in writing) The centipede king has a biological gender but it's a centipede. What is a centipede's gender to a human really.

So for most characters I use gender just to simplify things. Steph is a he, Jacket is an it. But I don't feel like these pronouns or genders are core or central to the character. They're mostly there to simplify things so the story isn't confusing.

But Xanadu is a "he". Xanadu isn't *male* but he is a man. He has a gender. And yet he's one of the most inhuman rotted I've written so far. So I'm circling around the question. Why is Xanadu a man. What is Xanadu really. What does he represent.

He is efficiency. He represents capitalism. He cut out all of the parts of his body he didn't need and morphed himself into a super-computer. He thinks faster than anyone else, he can process things purely logically. He is a supercomputer the size of a city. But he's also the city itself. The people who live there play a part of the processes and calculations that go on inside of Xanadu.

I find that the most interesting parts of the BABBAL story for me is the contradictions. This is a science fiction story with magic and no science. This is a horror story told as if it was a Utopia. Xanadu is an impersonal machine with his human ego intact.

if you ask Xanadu if he is a man or if he has a human ego he would be insulted by the question. He has shed all of that petty stuff. There is no need for emotion or sentimentality or ego or personhood. Yet there it is, right in the open. Is it really there? Is it an illusion? Is Xanadu really "He" or does he call himself that because the routines he's processed and data he's stored state that people call him that. Is it a bit of both?

It's things like these that make BABBAL such an interesting world to build for and write for. The abstraction of the characters and the humanity found within that abstraction. What are people's real desires, deep down and why do they have those. Where are the contradictions that can't be resolved.

#worldbuilding

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alternate-kiza · 3 years

Text

It has come to my attention that you guys don’t know the ships I use. So to make my head cannons work I think it would be best to describe each ship and family.

Heat, Wire, Shachi: Are the most normal couple in this family.(Normal trio)

They are the type of couple that does normal things like picnics, a nice stroll on the beach, partying.

They also have twins, Orca and Dain. Orca is the calm one that has Heats height and hair color but has Shachi’s eyes. He is also a hybrid of a merman and werewolf.

Dain got the dragon aspect from Heat. But lookes a lot like Shachi but got black eyes.

Kid, Law, Luffy: They show their yandere side but not to the point of obsession. (Sap trio)

They are the type of couple to go to a restaurant and almost completely put the restaurant out of business.

They have four kids with Kiza as the only female, Kay, Lone, and Useless. Luffy got to name Kiza and Kay. Law got to name Lone and Kid got to name Useless.

Monkey D. Kiza got a little bit of each of her parents. But she takes the demon aspect from Kid and the animal aspects from Law. Kiza is in a relationship with Alen.

Monkey D. Kay got most of his looks from Kid and Law. Though he only got the demon his hair can change when wet to black.

Trafalgar D. Water Lone got his body and temper from Kid but the rest is from Law. Lone got the vampire trait from Law but none of the animal. Made Lawkins a next generation thing.

Eustass Useless lives up to his name of being useless. Is basically the exact copy of Luffy but got a little bit of psycho from Kid. He is a fairy like Luffy though. Is the only one to have a Devil fruit. His devil fruit is called the Glich-Glich fruit. A logia where the user can glitch through walls and have any damage done pass right through.

Penguin, Zoro, Killer: Would be considered the crazy ones if the top ones weren’t insane.(Killjoytrio)

This couple will do anything that sounds fun. There is nothing normal when you see them on a date. There are moments were they are normal but that is rare to actually see.

They also have four kids, Alen, Vanessa, Guin, and Mason. Considering how strange they are their kids have normal names.

Alen can never get a break from running away from Kid trying to kill him. Though Alen is just a copy of Zoro he got crystal green eyes from Killer. He is also a zombie like Zoro. Alen is the most sane in his family.

Vanessa is just insane. There is nothing better to describe her other then crazy and insane. Vanessa is half Zoro and half Killer. If you don’t know what I mean I posted a picture of here on my page somewhere. She has the same disease as Penguin and Guin called the Symptom of Darkness (Also somewhere on my page).

Guin without her sister is calm. However with her sister Guin is a nightmare. Where’s a hat like her mom to hide her ears. Guin is a bird like creature kinda like King ( The bird man from Kidio’s crew). She is basically Penguin. She also took her last name: Rouge

Mason is kinda invisible. He is crazy but not to the point of being noticed. Hangs around Orca the most. Lookes like Killer with Zoro’s eye color.

Apoo, Drake, Hawkins: They are the most insane.( Traitor trio)

There is not an ounce of normality in this family. With Hawkins voodoo and crazy nature and Drake’s constant need of attention along with Apoo just going with the flow. They are insane.

They have luckily for others only three kids. Dally, Dino, and Record.

Basil Dally is gender fluid confusing his parents with new words he makes. He looks a lot like all three of his parents. The same height as Apoo, style from Drake and terrot reading from his mom. Got the elf trait from Hawkins.

Diez Dino is basically the copy of Hawkins but got her hobby’s from Drake. Loves to throw around Record. Got the angel wings from Hawkins. Is one year younger then Dally( Skiped a year).

Scratchmen Record is the copy of Apoo but got the hair and eye color from Drake. Got most of her hobbies from past Apoo. Is basically made out of iron from how much she was thrown around by Baz and Dino.

Couldn’t fit enough tags on here. Got enough on to make it to the others.

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nkechi-sims · 4 years

Text

June Candis for @boomchicapopdatsims‘ Love is Blind

“Oh I’m sure I could get along with anybody! It’s just a matter of when I finally wear them down!”

age: 29

sexuality: bisexual

gender: female

hometown: oasis springs

occupation: primary school teacher (gr. 3)

traits: cheerful, jealous, family oriented

dietary needs: “peanuts are my secret weapon for my best impression of a hot air balloon!”

sign: libra sun, sag moon, virgo ascendant

PERSONALITY

Scrapbooking, meditation, and “inside” voices. If sunshine was a sim it’d be June Candis. Affectionately called “Ms. Candy” by her students, June more than lives up to the name. Bordering on saccharine sweet in her temperament, people either love her or wish she’d shut her cheerful behind up. June is the head of every Welcome Wagon you’ve never wanted, toting a poorly-baked fruitcake for your enjoyment. It’s hard to tell if her sunshine-y outlook was a product of her career as a primary teacher or if it developed on it’s own, but one thing is for sure; once June kills you with kindness, she buries you with benevolence.

On the rare occasion that June meets a sim she just can’t smile into submission, she’s prone to fold her hands and freeze them out, after all, if you have nothing kind to say, scream it in your head until it goes away. FAMILY

June’s upbringing was one of a kind. In a small, sandy, desert town, the rumor mill works overtime, so when little ‘June-Bug’ was asked to draw a picture of her family and produced a (quite lovely) crayon picture of her four parents, all sorts of gossip circled about. A commune, a cult, polygamists, infidelity, the works. It was really much more simple than that. June was born with a loving mother and father, who later in life realized they just weren’t the ones for each other, they went on to marry the men of their dreams, and with June being so young, she really couldn’t differentiate between Poppy, Dad, and Aba. Three dads is a lot to some people, but not too odd. It was the “all living under one roof” part that did it for most folks. But June didn’t mind the whispers or looks. For her, being her parents’ only child (so far), meant always having a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on and three times as many Christmas presents. PREFERENCES + ROMANTIC HISTORY When it comes to her type, June loves a project. Whether it be a shy and sweet wallflower who needs coaxing out of her shell or an adorable momma’s boy who needs a little more independence, June’s your girl, much to the chagrin of her friends and family. The Oasis Springs school teacher believes everyone and anyone is capable and worthy of love. It’s not to say June isn’t discerning, she just wishes to see the best in people (even when it’s not really there). She’s definitely not a casual dater, when you grow up surrounded by so much love, you’re bound to be a romantic. And so she is. soulmates, the one, June believes in all of it. And she wants it for herself. June’s ever present cheerfulness does not extend to her love life. Naturally quite jealous and sometimes a little too invested in settling down, June is interested in being a wife A.S.A.P. and has mastered the art of playing it cool and aloof until she can snap the trap closed. Her enthusiasm for romance has resulted in a trail of messy and turbulent breakups behind her, chief of all, being her ex-fiance and current “good friend”, Ben sitting atop the pile like the king of the world. In June’s mind, Love is Blind, Deaf, Mute or whatever else it has to be for her to drag someone to the altar, kicking and screaming if she’s got to. June is a firm believer in the transformative properties of a good romance, and Love is Blind is the perfect test of faith. just had to submit a sim, under the wire of course and of course tumblr thanos snapped the image quality

#love is blind challenge #sims 4 #boomchicapopdatsims #she is a clown #but wants love SO BAD #nat's challenges?#sensational

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pixelsbichoice · 5 years

Text

Ranking Choices series by how Gay they are

A review no one asked for but an important one nonetheless

EDIT: Updated for latest books 6/29/19

The Freshman - While Zack, Kaitlyn, Becca, and Zig make this a sweet Gay Squad, the book has prominent bi-erasure if you date a man and forces you to deal with toxic Het Drama for multiple books that leaves you begging for the sweet release of diamond death to never come - 4/10 Gay but at what cost

The Crown and the Flame - Kenna is a bisexual Queen, but the fact that they don't give Dom a male li until awkwardly at the very end is tragic - 5/10 Could be gayer

Most Wanted - Look Sam is a Lesbian Icon(tm) but the narrative pushes for Sam and Dave - 3/10 Pretty Het

Rules of Engagement - Forces the MC to be with a man, doesn't give Party Twin a female li until the third book, and older brother's het drama is insufferable - 2/10 Some gay but too much straight to try

Endless Summer - MC can be a guy or a girl. Pretty gay, but the female lis are not treated as well as the male ones, also there are a lot of straight couples and the fact that Pirate Queen Yvonne ends up with a man? Tragic(tm) - 5/10 gay but could be gayer

LoveHacks - Points for the bi black man and the lesbians, but the first book paywalls its only female li to shit, only has the MC date men, and has Brooke end up with a man instead of Seerena - 3/10 Gay but too Het to handle

The Haunting of Braidwood Manor - Nothing but love a respect for my lesbian ghost girlfriend, but you have to pay to stay together (but it is only 17 diamonds and that is a bargain these days) - 8/10 Lots of lesbian love but at a cost

The Royal Romance - Largely forced to spend time with a man, has only one female li even though Olivia is literally right there, and has Penelope get with Kiara's brother even though Kiara is literally right there - 3/10 Very Het

Hero - MC can be a guy or a girl. Kenji is a BIcon but it takes a while to meet the only female li, also the Poppy and Dax het drama is too much - 6/10 Decently gay and has potential

High School Story - MC can be a guy or a girl. Besides the fact that we have to deal with the Het Tragedy that are Brian, Max, Kara, the dumb Autumn love triangle, and what the ever loving fuck is that set up your Dad with Emma's Mom nonsense, these books give a lot of LGBT+ rep - 7/10 Gen Z is the Gayest Gen

It Lives in the Woods - MC can be a guy or a girl. Gay Icon right here, we stan our Trans King(tm) King Kang, Ava and Stacy are female li legends, Lily is our beautiful Lesbian Queen, nothing like the raw gay energy of swinging a barbed wire bat at the undead - 15/10 GAY ICON

Home for the Holidays - One female LI, but at what cost? Can't play as a guy and forced to have dated one (1) man. Don't even get me started on Nick Peralta - 1/10 Literally ever Het Hallmark Christmas movie ever so RUN

Red Carpet Diaries - It feels like it should be pretty gay between the BIcon that is Seth, the Lesbian Legend that is Teja, and the absolute QUEEN that is Victoria, but man does it throw that all away to be SUPER FREAKING STRAIGHT between Matt and Hunt and paywalling the fuck out of Victoria - 3/10 RIP Gay potential

Perfect Match - MC can be a guy or a girl. Can choose to have your perfect match be a guy or a girl. A beautiful array of lis to choose from and they can all be yours because PB said Polyamory Rights! Even though there is some Het stuff with Nadia and Steve, it is actually tolerable. The President can also be a black lesbian and that's the America I want to live in - 10/10 Living my best gay thot life

Bloodbound - Even love interests whom? Sure you get two wonderful female love interests, Lily and the ultimate BI QUEEN Kamilah, but forget ever hanging out with them. This is the JAX AND ADRIAN SHOW ONLY BABEEE - 4/10 Not even a cheap Priya scene can help, PB said fuck wlw

Veil of Secrets - MC can be a guy or a girl. Ms. Harlenay is a Lesbian icon. Kate is a true BI disaster and the fact that we can only get with her romantically at the end of the book is the Biggest Tragedy of Choices - 6/10 It's fun and gay until you die alone bc you don't have enough diamonds

America's Most Eligible - MC can be a guy or a girl. You can thot it up and kiss so many people, Mackenzie is the only female li you can hang out with most of the time and there was one weird scene where Adam and Derek were super "no homo"??? - 6/10 Gay potential but oof the Het

Desire & Decorum - Only one female li, but she is Amazing. Mr. Chambers gay ass is the real MVP. God bless our non-homophobic gay ally of a dad (rip). But still this book got a lot of Het nonsense bc of the time period - 4/10 Press F to pay respect to our gay ancestors

Across The Void - MC can be a guy or a girl. Even number of lis with even screen time and your siblings can be gay too if they weren't so annoying and stealing your screen time - 7/10 Gay but it's hard to read

Big Sky Country - MC can be a guy or a girl. If you are a wlw, there is a lot of Het nonsense and it is hard to be with the female lis. If you are a mlm, ooh boy is this book Really Gay. Like literally every guy wants your city dick. Still there is some Het stuff - 6/10 Average; Life is what you Gay it

High School Story: Class Act - MC can be a guy or a girl. You can choose the gender of the li you are forced to have a crush on so that is nice. If you play as a guy your twin can be a Lesbian Icon and Erin can like girls but if you play as a girl it's like super het. Don't even get me started on Natalie and Clint - 6/10 Gay but oof

It Lives Beneath - MC can be a guy or a girl. Great even bunch of lis and our gay little brother is the most wholesome thing - 8/10 Good gay content minus you know all the Gore and Death

The Elementalists - MC can be a guy or a girl. Let’s hear it for Ace rep! Except the imbalance of li scenes and how Beckett is constantly forced onto you continues to put this book on thin ice, especially with the lack of flirting options for wlw - 5/10 Gay but lesbian struggles

A Courtesan of Rome - Forced to kiss men. Female characters treated like shit. Sabina stans deserved better. But Gay brother can get his happy gay romance. Caesar/Cleopatra/MC threesome said bi rights. Parents are the biggest gay allies. The biggest disappointment is the untapped potential - 3.5/10 RIP to anyone who hoped to romance Cleopatra

The Heist: Monaco - MC can be a guy or a girl. Allows you to choose gender of one your lis. Has the potential to have 3 female lis who are all iconic. But makes you pay for not 1 but 2 women crew members so having an all women crew is a struggle - 8/10 Let's go Lesbians!

Update:

Ride or Die: A Bad Boy Romance - Everyone thinks you and Logan are dating even if you haven’t romanced him in the slightest. Gay rep in minor characters but at what cost. - 3/10 We been knew of the het nonsense since we saw the tagline

Open Heart - MC can be a guy or a girl. If you are guy this book is great. Seriously Dr. ER always down for the BJ (sorry homophobes he BI!✨). If you are woman, HAHAHAHa. Only one female li who is forced to hate you for a few chapters. Seriously Sienna and Aurora and Kyra are right freaking there just give the wlw something!!! - 4/10 Gay but could do so much better

Passport to Romance - MC can be a guy or a girl. Even number of love interests except for the fact that one of the female li has a boyfriend for 75 percent of the book. Still this book is dreadfully boring or annoying which is sad because Sumire and Ahmed are wonderful. - 7/10 Gay but forgettable

Wishful Thinking - Story has MC spend most time with the two male lis, but MC, Anna, and Ellen working together to take down corrupt politicians ala Charlie’s Angels is awesome! The fact that you can sleep with Ellen coming out of nowhere like a dark horse? Amazing! - 5/10 Gay potential

Nightbound - MC can be a guy or a girl. Even number of love interests, but recent changes make it obvious the book wants you to lean towards Nik. Barely any scenes with Vera or Katherine. There is a gay fae and rock troll love story but you have to pay for it - 4/10 A fun supernatural story PB is forcing to be the next great het romance

Platinum - Can choose for your two main love interests Avery and Raleigh to be male or female which means you are not forced to romance men unless you want to! The women are so pretty it hurts. Get to kiss beautiful women for freeeee. Shoutout to non-binary audience. Every song is bop that fills me with gay pride. Only major downfall is you can’t choose to play as a guy. - 9/10 Move over Hayley Kiyoko there is a new Lesbian pop star in town

And Sunkissed is still up in the air while The Royal Heir is on the thinnest of fucking ices.

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reconditarmonia · 3 years

Text

Dear Chocolate Box 2021 Author

Hi! Thank you for writing for me! I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3. I have anon messaging off, but mods can contact me with any questions.

Elsinore | Fullmetal Alchemist | The Locked Tomb | Motherland: Fort Salem | Simoun

General likes:

– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.

– Loyalty kink! Trust, affectionate or loving use of titles, gestures of loyalty, replacing one’s situational or ethical judgment with someone else’s, risking oneself (physically or otherwise) for someone else, not doing so on their orders. Can be commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms.

– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.

– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff (possibly while crossdressing).

– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.

– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.

– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.

General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex; embarrassment; focus on pregnancy; Christmas/Christian themes; focus on unrequested canon or non-canon ships; unrequested trans versions of characters.

Smut Likes: clothing, uniforms, sexual tension, breasts, manual sex, cunnilingus, grinding, informal d/s elements, intensity.

Requesting fic; open to art treats!

—

Fandom: Elsinore

Relationship(s): Hamlet & Ophelia; Hamlet & Horatio & Ophelia; Bernardo & Hamlet & Laertes & Ophelia

I found the friendships in this game, and the different ways that characters can reconcile or try to find a way forward together, to be really sweet and moving, and I'd love to read something that focused on those relationships of trust and support. I like how important Ophelia and Horatio's counsel and friendship is in timelines where Hamlet becomes king; I like Hamlet regretting how he behaved towards Ophelia and striving to live through his depression and find out what it is that he wants, not what everyone else wants of him; I like seeing childhood friends Bernardo and Laertes and Ophelia and Hamlet, whose growing-up has stretched them so far apart, taking time to catch up and enjoy each other's company a little.

So, futurefic in one of the timelines where everything doesn't go to shit? A timeline that we don't see? (There is something narratively interesting to me in Permanence/Passion in that the entire plot of Hamlet ends up as a distant backstory to someone's full life; I don't know how compatible that idea is with these requests, but if you want to write any of these groups fucking off to Italy or Constantinople or London and living until the Elsinore pressure-cooker is a distant memory, I'd be just as happy with that as with fic about them building some kind of future together still in Denmark, trying to make it better for its people and to hold on to who they are as individuals, and friends, beyond their roles.) If you want to write Hamlet/Ophelia, Hamlet/Horatio, or for that matter Horatio/Bernardo as shippy, I'm fine with that, but I don't want a focus on the romantic aspects of their relationship.

Fandom-Specific DNW: death of requested characters within the timeline being explored, or focus on death of requested characters. These characters die in this game a lot and I don't need you to pretend entirely that it's not a time loop game, but I would like them to be happy. If you write the Bernardo & Hamlet & Laertes & Ophelia request, I'm fine with either or both names/pronouns for Bernardo|Katherine, but I don't want to read a story focused on their gender or coming-out. Please don't include Peter Quince as a character (you do not need to retcon, you know, the existence of the time loop).

—

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Relationship(s): Maria Ross/Olivier Mira Armstrong

I'll admit: I am a shallow, shallow person who loves the heartwarming and id-satisfying Briggs loyalty-kink complex (The watch! Buccaneer handing Olivier a clean pair of gloves after she kills Raven! Constant and deeply sincere saluting! Olivier’s explanation of why she wants Miles around and her lack of patience for anyone’s shit) but would like an f/f manifestation of it for actual shipping. Post-canon or AU where Maria is assigned to Briggs, or works for Olivier in Central? Does Maria foil a plot against Olivier, or Olivier save Maria's life in battle? Does Olivier order Maria into a firefight? Hit me.

Fandom-Specific DNW: Olivier/men, even mentioned.

—

Fandom: The Locked Tomb

Relationship(s): Abigail Pent & Dulcinea Septimus; Gideon the First & Matthias Nonius

Dulcie and Nonius were two of my favorite additions to the cast in Harrow the Ninth (and Dulcie in "Doctor Sex" via letter). I loved everything we learned about Dulcie - her wit, her quick thinking in a pinch when confronted by Cytherea and her secret to Harrow. I found her "The only thing preventing me from being exactly who I wanted..." speech both genuinely moving and very funny, and I love her thirst for revenge. What else might she and Abigail Pent, "independent research? it isn't even my birthday!" daredevil spirit-talker par excellence who has just conjured up a ghost out of an epic poem, get up to after Harrow's bubble collapses? Or what were they up to when they weren't on screen in Harrow's dream, putting together this whole, well, play?

Nonius's arrival, entire scene, and departure to fight the Beast made me very, very happy on levels I have trouble explaining. It was so heartwarming?! Because it was impossible, and because poetry won, and because they went off to do the best they could...I don't know, exactly. I'd love to read either more about his mysterious past with Gideon the First, or about their second encounter as allies (throw in Marta, Ortus and Pro if you like as well!)

Fandom-Specific Exception: to my unrequested ships DNW, Dulcie/Cam & Dulcie/Pal. I love their three strand thing.

—

Fandom: Motherland: Fort Salem

Relationship(s): Abigail Bellweather/Raelle Collar

I fell hard for this show and Abigail/Raelle is the ship I’m most excited about - they get off to a bad start for all kinds of personal history reasons and have problems with each other, but when it gets down to the wire Abigail would do anything for Raelle and is very gung-ho about having Raelle’s unconventional but extremely powerful magic under her leadership, regardless of Raelle being a loose cannon. She told her she loved her!! <3 And by the end, Raelle also clearly knows what Abigail's going through (like when she talks her down in "Citydrop"), respects her leadership, and cares deeply about her and wants to protect her in return. I love that loyalty dynamic, and their competence as fighters/witches.

Physical combat, strength in general, magical strength, ability to work magic together, knowledge of the magical canon vs. out-of-the-box techniques...what parts of their skills and their bond could be challenged in the weird dimension that the end of season 1 leaves them in? Or when they get back home and new challenges await? (In my head, the decision not to send them to War College is not revoked; the unit becomes some kind of special-forces secret strike team rather than cannon fodder.) Maybe something where Raelle goes/has gone into a fight as a berserker-type for Abigail and then comes back to her, or where Abigail protects/has protected her soldier (her girl!! I love her protectiveness of Raelle towards the other cadets, imagine it in a battle!)? Or an arranged marriage AU where it's usual for witch soldiers to marry to combine their magic power or something...

I would also be up for smut for them, especially something d/s-y where the loyalty-kinky dynamic of Raelle being Abigail's weapon, at her command, is echoed in sex!

Fandom-Specific DNW: sex solely for magical purposes without an emotional connection (sex for magical purposes is fine), focus on Raylla (I don't need you to retcon it, but please don't dwell either on Raelle still having feelings for Scylla or on her getting over Scylla for Abigail), Scylla bashing, Abigail/Adil (I would prefer to imagine, if he is mentioned in the fic, that they’re just friends).

—

Fandom: Simoun

Relationship(s): Aer/Neviril; Aer/Neviril & Neviril/Paraietta; Aer/Neviril/Paraietta; Aer & Floef & Neviril & Paraietta & Rodoreamon & Vyuraf

Aer, and Aer/Neviril, really grew on me on my recent rewatch. I appreciated her more as the determined bit-of-a-loose-cannon, who grows into a respected role in the choir, than the manic pixie this time, and noted Neviril's comments about how she was drawn to Aer's determination. (I've written a lot more about what I love and am interested in about Neviril and the show in general, her journey of figuring out what it means to her exactly to lead an air force, here.) I'd love to know what happens to them post-canon - what is the "new world" and their travel in it like? It's an escape for them, sure, but what are they escaping to, not just from? Are there problems there, too?

I'd also be up for a poly situation where Neviril is involved with both Aer and Paraietta, her long-loyal second-in-command whom she's blessed and forgiven, as a V where they're friends or as a triangle where Aer and Paraietta are also involved (I don't quite know what that leg of the triangle would look like but I do like how they work together in battle even when they're shown as having personal issues.)

If Neviril and Aer make it back to the main world when war is brewing again, as at the end of the series, but their old cohort can't fly anymore, what do they see their role as being? Does Neviril see herself as a leader for peace, for war, for something else? How do they interact with their former squadmates, whether as part of a more plotty piece or not?

I could be interested in explicit fic for this canon, as an option - the series is, on some level, about the contrast between the reality and physicality of their bodies and the general perception of what they do (which even in its non-spiritual military capacity is removed from a connection to their bodies via the Simoun aircraft), about becoming an adult, and of course about gender.

Fandom-Specific DNW: I'm not really interested in Kaim and Alty and would prefer for them not to appear or for their backstory to come up. I would also not like to see pre-timeskip Dominuura/Limone.

#dear author letters

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dukking02 · 3 years

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Paraskevas: first draft

Allow me to preface this by saying that this is a draft, i plan to completely rewrite this, but i need a second, 3rd, even a 4th opinion of it first. lease tell me what you think and what i could improve

****************************************

My name is Paraskevas.

Right now I'm traveling back to the Galli Sanctuary from Egypt. I imagine I should tell you how I got here, so get comfortable, because it's a long story.

I guess it would be best to begin by saying that I have never felt comfortable in my own skin; I grew up in Athens next to the barracks, and as a child, every day, I would run and play with the other boys. The gods decided to curse me with this female body only to later discover it was my own path towards a blessing. One day I decided to tell my parents that I wanted to be a man. My own parents responded,

"do you want to end up as one of those Galli freaks? Huh? Do you? Cause if you continue acting like something you're not, that's where you'll end up,"

Among other things. I was 16 when we had that little "talk."

The following night my father woke me, and told me to follow him. So I did. My father and I walked out to the city's outskirts, and as we finally stopped a few hours later, he handed me a pack and said two paralyzing words to me "don't return". I was struck with a crushing weight and could not leave the spot I stood. My breath did not leave my chest; it stayed and boiled into a pain that spread through my body. My thoughts raced through my mind, each new idea, each new conclusion tearing into my heart, deeper and deeper until it snapped and could no longer withstand the flood it was holding back. All of it came pouring out in a violent torrent. Still cemented where I stood, I watched as my father turned around and started pacing back the way we had come, leaving me feeling utterly helpless. A few hours passed, and I stood there not kenning on what I'd do next; I didn't know where I was, I didn't know how to get back home. I imagined at that point, that the place I had come from, the walls that stood for all I ever was, and the warm hearth that I clung to so dearly, was now only a place to be seen in bitter memory. I took a moment, and cleansed my chest of all it's anxiety in a few deep breaths. And so I took my pack, and forced my feet forward, and kept walking like a lost soul, too weak to even see a goal in sight.

For how long I walked, I do not know. I did not know where I was walking to, nor for what I was looking for. After about two days of sauntering around, I collapsed from hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and heartache. As I began to fall into an exhausting sleep, I remember longing for the chance that I wouldn't wake up.

I had many strange and unusual dreams in my sleep, but suddenly they shifted into something new. Becoming clear and vivid. I found myself at the entrance of the most extensive, most ornate temple I had ever seen; the Parthenon paled in comparison to its beauty. The temple had two statues of dogs guarding the entrance, each towering 40 feet. It was here that I realized this was Hecate's temple. Out of nowhere, I heard an unfamiliar voice from behind me.

The foreign voice said to me, "my dear child, how lost you are'' it wasn't a question, but a solemn statement. Her voice was sympathetic, filled with emotion. Subsequently, I turned to recognize a tall and beautiful woman. She had an angular face that held an appearance of extreme sorrow and sympathy. The woman wore a dark purple toga made of dozens of layers of the most delicate quality lace I had ever seen, each layer so thin that I could see through it, but combined, it hid her figure shockingly well. Around her waist was a simple braided cord of gold. She then knelt and hugged me. At that point, all I could do was weep into her chest, finally allowing myself to feel everything I have been suppressing my entire life. And then I was filled with the most incredible feeling of maternal love I had ever felt. She then held me at arm's length and said to me, "my child, you no longer need to hide. Will you join my other children?" I simply nodded, unable to speak through the tears. She then smiled, closed her eyes, and placed her lips on my forehead.

And then I woke. It was still dark, so it couldn't have been more than a couple of hours, but I felt as if I had slept an entire week. I was filled with energy, I sprung up, but I felt something in my pocket when I got up. I reached in and felt a rock; it was warm to the touch, abnormally warm as if her love was still radiating from it. When I pulled it out, I gasped in pure exhilaration. It was a gemstone of the highest quality, approximately 6 inches in diameter. It was a deep purple color and astoundingly clear. It didn't have a single blemish on or in it. Selling this stone could make me more prosperous than the foreign Egyptian kings. But a voice in the back of my head told me that it would be a faulty idea. I then contemplated whether I should sell the gem as a gift from a Goddess. As I whispered to myself, I realized something.

I was no longer a girl but a boy. My own voice seemed foreign to me. It was deeper and fuller, but I still recognized it as my own. I checked my body and was astounded to see that the goddess Hecate had blessed me with the body I was always meant to have. I was beyond thrilled. I was exuberant. I then felt a sudden compulsion to travel east. Trusting the goddess, I pocketed the gemstone and started making my way east.

Eventually, I reached the destination the goddess wanted me to reach; A small temple dedicated to Hecate. When I arrived at the door, I decided the best thing to do was knock. As I raised my fist, the door opened before I got the chance. A tall physique with amber skin opened the door. It was impossible to determine their gender. They wore a blank expression on their face, and because of this, they seemed extremely uninterested. They wore a robe of deep red, with white threading. They simply said, "I am Agapi, we have been expecting you. Follow me." So I did.

After a short time, we arrived at a small workshop with woodworking tools. Agapi shoved me inside and said, "make your tool and fasten your gem to your tool. Once you do, you will be able to open this door. It can be anything, take mine, for example," they then raised a wooden sword with a flawless red gemstone fastened into its pommel. I had barely enough time to get a look before they shoved me inside and locked the door.

I spent hours in that room, grappling to figure out how to use the tools. Growing frustrated, I said, "screw this," and grabbed a wooden dowel perhaps a foot and a half in length and 5 inches thick and drilled a divot in one end, shoved the gemstone in, and wrapped it in wire to fasten it in place. Unsure what to do next, I then pointed it at the door and said open, not expecting it to work in the slightest. However, surprisingly it did, and the door flung open with a crash.

This was 3 weeks ago. I'm now in training as a Galli priest. Here we are. I'm traveling back from Alexandria today.

#rough draft #critique #review #advse #original character #greek mythology

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blk-chauvinist · 4 years

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Why Women Aren’t Funny

BY CHRISTOPHER HITCHENS

JANUARY 1, 2007

Be your gender what it may, you will certainly have heard the following from a female friend who is enumerating the charms of a new (male) squeeze: “He’s really quite cute, and he’s kind to my friends, and he knows all kinds of stuff, and he’s so funny . . . “ (If you yourself are a guy, and you know the man in question, you will often have said to yourself, “Funny? He wouldn’t know a joke if it came served on a bed of lettuce with sauce béarnaise.”) However, there is something that you absolutely never hear from a male friend who is hymning his latest (female) love interest: “She’s a real honey, has a life of her own . . . [interlude for attributes that are none of your business] . . . and, man, does she ever make ‘em laugh.”

Now, why is this? Why is it the case?, I mean. Why are women, who have the whole male world at their mercy, not funny? Please do not pretend not to know what I am talking about.

All right—try it the other way (as the bishop said to the barmaid). Why are men, taken on average and as a whole, funnier than women? Well, for one thing, they had damn well better be. The chief task in life that a man has to perform is that of impressing the opposite sex, and Mother Nature (as we laughingly call her) is not so kind to men. In fact, she equips many fellows with very little armament for the struggle. An average man has just one, outside chance: he had better be able to make the lady laugh. Making them laugh has been one of the crucial preoccupations of my life. If you can stimulate her to laughter—I am talking about that real, out-loud, head-back, mouth-open-to-expose-the-full-horseshoe-of-lovely-teeth, involuntary, full, and deep-throated mirth; the kind that is accompanied by a shocked surprise and a slight (no, make that a loud) peal of delight—well, then, you have at least caused her to loosen up and to change her expression. I shall not elaborate further.

Women have no corresponding need to appeal to men in this way. They already appeal to men, if you catch my drift. Indeed, we now have all the joy of a scientific study, which illuminates the difference. At the Stanford University School of Medicine (a place, as it happens, where I once underwent an absolutely hilarious procedure with a sigmoidoscope), the grim-faced researchers showed 10 men and 10 women a sample of 70 black-and-white cartoons and got them to rate the gags on a “funniness scale.” To annex for a moment the fall-about language of the report as it was summarized in Biotech Week:

The researchers found that men and women share much of the same humor-response system; both use to a similar degree the part of the brain responsible for semantic knowledge and juxtaposition and the part involved in language processing. But they also found that some brain regions were activated more in women. These included the left prefrontal cortex, suggesting a greater emphasis on language and executive processing in women, and the nucleus accumbens . . . which is part of the mesolimbic reward center.

This has all the charm and address of the learned Professor Scully’s attempt to define a smile, as cited by Richard Usborne in his treatise on P. G. Wodehouse: “the drawing back and slight lifting of the corners of the mouth, which partially uncover the teeth; the curving of the naso-labial furrows . . . “ But have no fear—it gets worse:

“Women appeared to have less expectation of a reward, which in this case was the punch line of the cartoon,” said the report’s author, Dr. Allan Reiss. “So when they got to the joke’s punch line, they were more pleased about it.” The report also found that “women were quicker at identifying material they considered unfunny.”

Slower to get it, more pleased when they do, and swift to locate the unfunny—for this we need the Stanford University School of Medicine? And remember, this is women when confronted with humor. Is it any wonder that they are backward in generating it?

This is not to say that women are humorless, or cannot make great wits and comedians. And if they did not operate on the humor wavelength, there would be scant point in half killing oneself in the attempt to make them writhe and scream (uproariously). Wit, after all, is the unfailing symptom of intelligence. Men will laugh at almost anything, often precisely because it is—or they are—extremely stupid. Women aren’t like that. And the wits and comics among them are formidable beyond compare: Dorothy Parker, Nora Ephron, Fran Lebowitz, Ellen DeGeneres. (Though ask yourself, was Dorothy Parker ever really funny?) Greatly daring—or so I thought—I resolved to call up Ms. Lebowitz and Ms. Ephron to try out my theories. Fran responded: “The cultural values are male; for a woman to say a man is funny is the equivalent of a man saying that a woman is pretty. Also, humor is largely aggressive and pre-emptive, and what’s more male than that?” Ms. Ephron did not disagree. She did, however, in what I thought was a slightly feline way, accuse me of plagiarizing a rant by Jerry Lewis that said much the same thing. (I have only once seen Lewis in action, in The King of Comedy, where it was really Sandra Bernhard who was funny.)

In any case, my argument doesn’t say that there are no decent women comedians. There are more terrible female comedians than there are terrible male comedians, but there are some impressive ladies out there. Most of them, though, when you come to review the situation, are hefty or dykey or Jewish, or some combo of the three. When Roseanne stands up and tells biker jokes and invites people who don’t dig her shtick to suck her dick—know what I am saying? And the Sapphic faction may have its own reasons for wanting what I want—the sweet surrender of female laughter. While Jewish humor, boiling as it is with angst and self-deprecation, is almost masculine by definition.

Substitute the term “self-defecation” (which I actually heard being used inadvertently once) and almost all men will laugh right away, if only to pass the time. Probe a little deeper, though, and you will see what Nietzsche meant when he described a witticism as an epitaph on the death of a feeling. Male humor prefers the laugh to be at someone’s expense, and understands that life is quite possibly a joke to begin with—and often a joke in extremely poor taste. Humor is part of the armor-plate with which to resist what is already farcical enough. (Perhaps not by coincidence, battered as they are by motherfucking nature, men tend to refer to life itself as a bitch.) Whereas women, bless their tender hearts, would prefer that life be fair, and even sweet, rather than the sordid mess it actually is. Jokes about calamitous visits to the doctor or the shrink or the bathroom, or the venting of sexual frustration on furry domestic animals, are a male province. It must have been a man who originated the phrase “funny like a heart attack.” In all the millions of cartoons that feature a patient listening glum-faced to a physician (“There’s no cure. There isn’t even a race for a cure”), do you remember even one where the patient is a woman? I thought as much.

Precisely because humor is a sign of intelligence (and many women believe, or were taught by their mothers, that they become threatening to men if they appear too bright), it could be that in some way men do not want women to be funny. They want them as an audience, not as rivals. And there is a huge, brimming reservoir of male unease, which it would be too easy for women to exploit. (Men can tell jokes about what happened to John Wayne Bobbitt, but they don’t want women doing so.) Men have prostate glands, hysterically enough, and these have a tendency to give out, along with their hearts and, it has to be said, their dicks. This is funny only in male company. For some reason, women do not find their own physical decay and absurdity to be so riotously amusing, which is why we admire Lucille Ball and Helen Fielding, who do see the funny side of it. But this is so rare as to be like Dr. Johnson’s comparison of a woman preaching to a dog walking on its hind legs: the surprise is that it is done at all.

The plain fact is that the physical structure of the human being is a joke in itself: a flat, crude, unanswerable disproof of any nonsense about “intelligent design.” The reproductive and eliminating functions (the closeness of which is the origin of all obscenity) were obviously wired together in hell by some subcommittee that was giggling cruelly as it went about its work. (“Think they’d wear this? Well, they’re gonna have to.”) The resulting confusion is the source of perhaps 50 percent of all humor. Filth. That’s what the customers want, as we occasional stand-up performers all know. Filth, and plenty of it. Filth in lavish, heaping quantities. And there’s another principle that helps exclude the fair sex. “Men obviously like gross stuff,” says Fran Lebowitz. “Why? Because it’s childish.” Keep your eye on that last word. Women’s appetite for talk about that fine product known as Depend is limited. So is their relish for gags about premature ejaculation. (“Premature for whom?” as a friend of mine indignantly demands to know.) But “child” is the key word. For women, reproduction is, if not the only thing, certainly the main thing. Apart from giving them a very different attitude to filth and embarrassment, it also imbues them with the kind of seriousness and solemnity at which men can only goggle. This womanly seriousness was well caught by Rudyard Kipling in his poem “The Female of the Species.” After cleverly noticing that with the male “mirth obscene diverts his anger”—which is true of most work on that great masculine equivalent to childbirth, which is warfare—Kipling insists:

But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same, And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail, The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.

The word “issue” there, which we so pathetically misuse, is restored to its proper meaning of childbirth. As Kipling continues:

She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.

Men are overawed, not to say terrified, by the ability of women to produce babies. (Asked by a lady intellectual to summarize the differences between the sexes, another bishop responded, “Madam, I cannot conceive.”) It gives women an unchallengeable authority. And one of the earliest origins of humor that we know about is its role in the mockery of authority. Irony itself has been called “the glory of slaves.” So you could argue that when men get together to be funny and do not expect women to be there, or in on the joke, they are really playing truant and implicitly conceding who is really the boss.

The ancient annual festivities of Saturnalia, where the slaves would play master, were a temporary release from bossdom. A whole tranche of subversive male humor likewise depends on the notion that women are not really the boss, but are mere objects and victims. Kipling saw through this:

So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her.

In other words, for women the question of funniness is essentially a secondary one. They are innately aware of a higher calling that is no laughing matter. Whereas with a man you may freely say of him that he is lousy in the sack, or a bad driver, or an inefficient worker, and still wound him less deeply than you would if you accused him of being deficient in the humor department.

If I am correct about this, which I am, then the explanation for the superior funniness of men is much the same as for the inferior funniness of women. Men have to pretend, to themselves as well as to women, that they are not the servants and supplicants. Women, cunning minxes that they are, have to affect not to be the potentates. This is the unspoken compromise. H. L. Mencken described as “the greatest single discovery ever made by man” the realization “that babies have human fathers, and are not put into their mother’s bodies by the gods.” You may well wonder what people were thinking before that realization hit, but we do know of a society in Melanesia where the connection was not made until quite recently. I suppose that the reasoning went: everybody does that thing the entire time, there being little else to do, but not every woman becomes pregnant. Anyway, after a certain stage women came to the conclusion that men were actually necessary, and the old form of matriarchy came to a close. (Mencken speculates that this is why the first kings ascended the throne clutching their batons or scepters as if holding on for grim death.) People in this precarious position do not enjoy being laughed at, and it would not have taken women long to work out that female humor would be the most upsetting of all.

Childbearing and rearing are the double root of all this, as Kipling guessed. As every father knows, the placenta is made up of brain cells, which migrate southward during pregnancy and take the sense of humor along with them. And when the bundle is finally delivered, the funny side is not always immediately back in view. Is there anything so utterly lacking in humor as a mother discussing her new child? She is unboreable on the subject. Even the mothers of other fledglings have to drive their fingernails into their palms and wiggle their toes, just to prevent themselves from fainting dead away at the sheer tedium of it. And as the little ones burgeon and thrive, do you find that their mothers enjoy jests at their expense? I thought not.

Humor, if we are to be serious about it, arises from the ineluctable fact that we are all born into a losing struggle. Those who risk agony and death to bring children into this fiasco simply can’t afford to be too frivolous. (And there just aren’t that many episiotomy jokes, even in the male repertoire.) I am certain that this is also partly why, in all cultures, it is females who are the rank-and-file mainstay of religion, which in turn is the official enemy of all humor. One tiny snuffle that turns into a wheeze, one little cut that goes septic, one pathetically small coffin, and the woman’s universe is left in ashes and ruin. Try being funny about that, if you like. Oscar Wilde was the only person ever to make a decent joke about the death of an infant, and that infant was fictional, and Wilde was (although twice a father) a queer. And because fear is the mother of superstition, and because they are partly ruled in any case by the moon and the tides, women also fall more heavily for dreams, for supposedly significant dates like birthdays and anniversaries, for romantic love, crystals and stones, lockets and relics, and other things that men know are fit mainly for mockery and limericks. Good grief! Is there anything less funny than hearing a woman relate a dream she’s just had? (“And then Quentin was there somehow. And so were you, in a strange sort of way. And it was all so peaceful.” Peaceful?)

For men, it is a tragedy that the two things they prize the most—women and humor—should be so antithetical. But without tragedy there could be no comedy. My beloved said to me, when I told her I was going to have to address this melancholy topic, that I should cheer up because “women get funnier as they get older.” Observation suggests to me that this might indeed be true, but, excuse me, isn’t that rather a long time to have to wait?

From Vanity Fair

#Men Are The Prize #Anti-Feminism #Humor

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verhdelstanddelosbesos24ky · 4 years

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Ver Película — “El stand de los besos 2″ Online en Español HD

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SINOPSIS Título original The Kissing Booth 2 Año 2020 Duración 130 min. País Reino Unido Reino Unido Dirección Vince Marcello Guion Jay S Arnold, Vince Marcello Fotografía Anastas N. Michos Productora Distribuida por Netflix. Coproducción Reino Unido-Estados Unidos; Komixx Entertainment Género Romance | Comedia romántica. Adolescencia. Secuela

Reparto Joey King, Molly Ringwald, Jacob Elordi, Maisie Richardson-Sellers, Joel Courtney, Carishma Basday, Joshua Daniel Eady, Meganne Young, Kai Luke Brummer, Frances Sholto-Douglas, Camilla Wolfson, Taylor Zakhar Perez, D. David Morin, Michelle Allen, Bianca Bosch, Bianca Amato, Nathan Lynn, Morné Visser, Chase Dallas, Judd Krok, Toni Jean Erasmus, Motsi Tekateka, Shana Mans, Carson White, Noa Milan, Matthew Dylan Roberts, Dylan Edy, Grant Ross

Resumen Elle Evans, que debe tomar decisiones sobre la universidad, afronta su relación a distancia con Noah Flynn, que se marcha a Harvard, su cambiante relación con su mejor amiga Lee y lo que siente por un nuevo y carismático compañero de clase de nombre Marco (Taylor Zakhar Perez).

HISTORIA Y CRITICAS

El stand de los besos (The kissing both) 2018 Pelicula

‘The Kissing Booth’: Netflix’s Teen Comedy Sensation Is Sexist and Outdated — Review

Netflix might be trying to corner the market on big-budget spectacles from some of Hollywood’s hottest names — from the $90 million “Bright” to its multi-picture deal with Adam Sandler and Martin Scorsese’s much-hyped “The Irishman” — but the streaming giant has quietly planted its stake in a less ambitious place: romantic comedies. So far this year, Netflix has released six original films that are classified as rom-coms, with at least three more on the way before the year closes out. And it’s on to something here: 2017’s “A Christmas Prince” was such a smash hit for the outfit that it has already prepped a holiday sequel.

Netflix’s newest hit-in-the-making, “The Kissing Booth,” is kicking up similar attention. Unfortunately, the high school-set rom-com is a sexist and regressive look at relationships that highlights the worst impulses of the genre. Netflix isn’t new to the sub-genre of teen rom-coms, and it has already succeeded with other picks. Later this month, Craig Johnson’s delightful “Alex Strangelove” will arrive on the streaming service, and last month saw the introduction of Olivia Milch’s “Dude,” a female-driven comedy in the vein of other raunchy features like “Bridesmaids” and “Mean Girls.”

Films like that are indicative of the outfit locking down yet another piece of Hollywood magic and serving its viewers something they want to see, even if the traditional studio system isn’t giving it to them, but “The Kissing Booth” is a strange blight on that run. The film combines classic narrative tropes of the genre — think a low-budget mishmash of “Pretty in Pink,” “Never Been Kissed,” “Mean Girls,” and “10 Things I Hate About You” — but is also hobbled by a gross understanding of gender dynamics and what makes a healthy relationship.

And that’s to say nothing of its approach to depicting sexual harassment, frequent slut-shaming of its leading lady, and attempting to romanticize a “bad boy” love interest who mainly seems interested in getting in physical fights and then loudly mouthing off about his possessive tendencies. Cute, huh?

The movie, written and directed by Vince Marello (best known for his film versions of stories from the “American Girl” doll franchise), is an adaption of the Beth Reekles novel of the same name, and starts off with a relatively sweet premise. Elle (Joey King) and Lee (Joel Courtney) have been best friends since birth, “raised like twins” by their mothers, who also happen to be life-long best friends. (One of the moms is even played by Molly Ringwald, to give the film further rom-com bonafides.) They’ve been obsessed with Dance Dance Revolution since they were tiny, and while their private high school appears to be a clique-y kind of place, they’ve grown into popular-ish kids who are grounded by their bond.

The first act of “The Kissing Booth” plays out in predictable fashion, as Elle wrestles with her growing feelings for Noah as he alluringly teases her, engaging in the kind of push-pull will-they-won’t-they dynamic that’s always been a hallmark of the genre. And yet, even in its earliest moments, “The Kissing Booth” is preoccupied with sexist rhetoric and a willingness to apologize for Noah’s alarming behavior.

Elle (who, it must be noted, is just charming, thanks to King’s bubbly performance) has a lot going for her, including a plucky personality that manages to find all kinds of solutions for weird problems. Early in the film, Elle tears her last pair of school-issued pants, and unable to rustle up any other options, is forced to head off to school wearing a two-year-old skirt (too small, but at least part of the dress code). The moment she hits campus, she’s assaulted by catcalls from nearly all of her fellow male students (a real “boys will be boys” moment that imagines that all teenage boys are simply unable to do anything beyond scream epithets at pretty girl they’ve known for years, if she’s wearing a short piece of clothing).

It gets worse, as Elle is groped by another student, leading Noah to physically assault him (predictable). Elle lands in the principal’s office — an awkward enough twist, given she’s the actual victim here — and things only get worse from there. Both Lee (again, her best friend and typically a sweet guy) and the school’s principal tell Elle that she was “asking for it” by wearing the skirt. It’s a laughably regressive moment, such obviously outdated thinking, but “The Kissing Booth” just keeps plugging along.

The parking lot-set fisticuffs helps pave the way for Elle and Noah’s tentative romance, with Noah first brushing off his behavior as springing from a place of familial affection for Elle, while she wonders if it’s a sign that he has deeper feelings for her. Despite this run-of-the-mill and wholly relatable high school romance (who has never felt like Elle?), “The Kissing Booth” remains enamored of Noah’s defining characteristics: he’s got a seriously violent streak who gets turned on by jealousy and demonstrates some weirdo possessiveness that never abates.

This is not an exaggeration. Noah’s affection for getting into fights — often very brutal ones — becomes a large part of the film. Elle even lays down a rule that he can’t fight anymore if he wants them to be together (His response: “You know, you’re cute when you’re bossy”), and later gets him to admit that his family has struggled to deal with it, even sending him to counseling with no lasting impact. It’s “kinda just how I’m wired,” he muses, and that’s all there is. Later, Lee briefly worries that Noah has hit Elle, a jarring moment in a film marketed as a fluffy rom-com for teens. And Elle constantly acquiesces to him, even when it feels dangerous.

El stand de los besos 2 Pelicula completa Netflix

Una escena de El stand de los besos 2 Netflix: El stand de los besos 2, una confusa comedia adolescente

El stand de los besos 2 (Estados Unidos, 2020). Dirección: Vince Marcello. Guion: Vince Marcello, Jay S. Arnold, basado en las novelas de Beth Reekles. Elenco: Joey King, Jacob Elordi, Joel Courtney, Taylor Zakhar Perez. Duración: 130 minutos. Disponible en: Netflix. Nuestra opinión: mala

La experiencia de ver El stand de los besos 2 es desconcertante. Se trata de una secuela del film estrenado en Netflix en 2018 que resultó ser un enorme éxito, según los datos de la plataforma. Basadas en las novelas escritas por Beth Reekles a través de la aplicación colaborativa Wattpad, ambas películas tienen como protagonista a Elle (Joey King), una estudiante de secundario que vive en un mundo de fantasía digno de una historia animada de Disney. La escuela a la que asiste, sus compañeros, sus actividades y sus amigos tienen el espesor dramático de una hoja de papel y sus intenciones, matices o pasiones entrarían en una carilla de esa misma hoja.

Inverosímil y sin un atisbo de realismo o actualidad, la trama parece estar dirigida al público adolescente o preadolescente pero, y ahí es dónde comienza el desconcierto. Difícilmente le interesen los constantes montajes que resumen los mejores momentos de los personajes a un grupo etario que baila en TikTok y se comunica a través de Instagram, ni tampoco los artificiales diálogos que abundan en el film. O tal vez sí. Pero con una puesta en escena más cercana a ciertos telefilms apuntados al público infantil y una historia que se ocupa de tratar a los cuerpos de sus personajes como objetos para admirar y a sus cerebros como un accesorio resulta complicado identificar al espectador ideal de El stand de los besos 2.

Es posible que sus realizadores hayan tenido la misma dificultad. Puestos a adaptar la historia escrita por una joven mujer de 16 años, los dos guionistas adultos reinterpretaron la fantasía adolescente en sus propios términos y terminaron con una película de dos largas horas y diez minutos que nunca se preocupa por hacer de su protagonista un personaje mínimamente interesante, que exista más allá de su relación con los hombres de su vida, a los que en esta vuelta se suma Marco (Taylor Zakhar Perez), el chico nuevo de la escuela. Construido, aparentemente, utilizando la información provista por una encuesta, el muchacho tiene un poco de Noah Centineo (A todos los chicos de los que me enamoré), una pizca de el propio Elordi y algo de los protagonistas de Elite y su exótico atractivo latino filtrado por el algoritmo de Netflix.

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#el stand de los besos 2 #el stand de los besos #el stand delos besos 2 #the kissing booth 2 #the kissing booth #mi primer besos 2 #pelis gratis subtitulada #pelicula completa netflix

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cowandcalf · 5 years

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Meta on Steve aka "Smooth Dog" – a short character study

Steve McGarrett and his way with women. The answer to this you'll find in his youth.

In season 10, Steve reveals an uncharacteristic streak we haven't seen so far. He's uncomfortable and insecure when it comes to the task to ask a woman out on a date. He's downright shy and he squirms as if the assignment he needs to face is too big and an emotional steeplechase. He likes to take things slow. He wants to wait for the right moment and he hates being pushed because he kind of isn't ready. At all.

And the reason why he hits this invisible wall as a grown adult in his forties is because he has never had to learn how to do it. It's his first time ever that he needs to be charming, forthcoming and that he has to dig up courage to approach a woman and to ask her out. What Steve experiences Danny has undergone in his youth as a teenager. And I guess, most of the grown men from the Five-0 task force made the same experience as Danny. But not Steve. Steve has never had to fight for attention or to fight for being seen.

If you want to understand why Steve acts quite insecure when it comes to women and asking them out for a date you have to go way back into the years of his youth.

Actually, I start with Steve in High School. Steve's a jock. Steve's a quarterback. Steve's the best quarterback Kukui High has ever had. Steve's a star! He's the most wanted guy at school. He's the secret dream of almost every girl (for sure also the dream of some female teachers) which visits Kukui High.

Steve might be a shy teenager. He might have some difficulties to act cool and collected around girls. He might be blushing and stuttering and he might also hide behind the back of his friends he hangs out with. He eats in the cantina, and he might have no idea what to talk about with girls who always giggle and glance his way. He has Mary as a bar and he doesn't even understand his little sister. He fights with her and he knows she's a girl and that he loves different stuff. But her world is quite a mystery to him. He rather sticks around with his friends and pals, his surfer guys and his ohana.

Yes, they're at the beach. They surf, they meet girls. It's normal to see everyone in swim trunks and bikinis, to be in the water, to chill together. Everything comes very naturally.

But the most important puzzle piece is Steve the quarterback! Steve, the jock! Steve the outstanding, good-looking, very handsome, super trained, awesome talented and super cute jock! Steve is hot as fuck! He's a dream version of the beach boy, surfer boy comes true.

Hawaii, High School, Football – the holy trinity. And the king is Steve, like their famous, undefeated quarterback. He even pulverizes all of Chin's school records. He's even more famous. Steve is the freaking catch!! Even if he feels uncomfortable with the fame he has to carry and he has to deal with. I'm so sure he also loves it because all girls (and boys and teachers, male and female) admire him. Look up to him, love him, cheer for him, drool over him… damn, Steve's the jackpot!

And he knows it!

Steve works out tons. He looks fabulous. Tanned skin for miles and miles, trained, hard abs, a radiant smile, a shy attitude, fierceness on the gridiron, determined and dedicated to his task. He's a freaking wet dream for every teenage girl in the schoolyard.

And then there are Friday nights! Play nights! It's football madness and this adrenaline rush that comes with the great entrance of the player who fight for Kukui High. The boys are warriors out on the field. They get celebrated like kings! The crowd is cheering and Steve kicks ass on the field. He pushes his team to the max, makes them win.

He's a fucking badass and a sexy star!

And guess what? On the benches, at the sidelines, in the spectator area, there are girls as far as the eye can reach. They scream they cry, they cheer and they yell Steve's name. And some of them have banners with Steve's name on it and hearts! And don't forget the cheerleaders! Wow! Sexy girls, trained and skilled and so into their football team they support. And there's always the cheerleader queen who normally gets to win the quarterback of the football team.

I'm so sure of it, Steve got kissed many times after a game. He never had to fight for attention. No, on the contrary, he was almost harassed with attention, with praises and with girls who would love to have sex with him, kiss him, flirt with him. Steve is always surrounded by girls who want to be near him because he's the star quarterback of Kukui High.

The girls surround him in clusters!

And if a girl behaves difficult, demands too much, Steve moves on to the next one. He's young. He's bursting with strength and testosterone! He can have any girl he wants. He can have the High School cheerleader queen. That's the jackpot, man!

Smooth Dog is on his way.

Now, change of scenery. His mother dies. He and Mary get send away. A tragedy takes place and alters Steve's soul. His emotional growth comes to an abrupt halt. He swallows the pain and hurt, fear and emotional agony because his father sends him off to the mainland.

A terrible, hard path starts for young, carefree Steve. The lingering sadness gets added to his character and the hard gushes caused by emotional pain never really heal. He learns to deal with it. He might withdraw and be for himself. I'm sure at Carlsberg he hides behind sports and physical exhaustion to find some peace, to set his mind to rest. He's a brilliant student and once he accepts his fate he digs his heel into the ground and just takes off because that's how he's wired.

He moves on. He grows into a strong, quiet, wonderful young man. His energy is radiant. He's surrounded by this faint hint of adventure, sadness, and strength. Warriors and heroes are made from that material. Steve's breathtakingly handsome. And he wants to be a SEAL.

I guess he has some girls, who are interested in him. But his mother's death and the separation of his family still eats at his soul. He doesn't have the strength or the interest to deal with a relationship.

And suddenly he's together with strong, young, hungry men. They fight to get through BUD/s. They all have one goal. He sees his comrades fail. He knows only the strongest survive. Steve's a fighter. And he has to prove something to himself.

The deep-rooted doubt is eating at the bones of his soul. His father has sent him away – his only son. Is he loved? Why can't he be with his father? Has he disappointed his father in some sort? Steve will never ever again be free in his heart and his soul because deep down he thinks he has failed as a son.

And the only thing he can do is to be the best, the strongest, the fucking elite guy who proves everyone that he's the one! That he can beat nature and his own will. Every supervisor, every chief, every boss, every drill sergeant turns into his father and he wants to make them proud.

Until he finds Joe and Joe guides him and Steve's hungry, empty heart can rest a bit. But it never really heals.

SEALs are impressive. They are strong and a women's magnet. Steve's a man and he also needs sex, wants sex, has sex. He's healthy and everything is a freaking challenge for him. I'm sure he bets with his friends and SEAL buddies which girl he takes home tonight. He doesn't have to go looking. Again, the girls and the women hunt them. The female gender gets drawn to strong warriors, lonesome fighters with this handsomeness and this sad streak around the eyes. Steve's a jackpot once again.

Smooth Dog is born.

And he doesn't treat the female sex so nicely. He grows up in a world where orders, obeying and giving orders, asking for obedience is on the daily agenda. He serves and he has one aim. To be a SEAL, to be an elite soldier. He will get forged in hell of terrible training schedules and exclusive ops and drills and exercises and deployments.

Women and how to deal with them happen on the sideline. Steve can't develop the finesse that's needed to really deal with the female sex. He gets to know the women who also join the Navy and the military. And those are just as many exceptions to the rules as every other person in this military world. It's a unique universe with different rules and laws.

And Steve doesn't have any difficulties to find a way to flirt and to be with a woman because he's again a star. He's a SEAL. He's special and hot and an incredible catch. Steve doesn't really pay attention to it. Because his focus is on the task, on the ops, on the mission, and on his brothers.

And there are some adventures we know of. He's not interested in a relationship. Even though, Steve's emotional and he falls quickly for someone, the pull towards to serve his country is way bigger. He doesn't want to settle.

And then he meets Catherine. And Catherine endures a lot of Steve's demanding attitude. The way he uses her for his own good, for his work as the head of Five-0 demands a meta on its own. Cath just bears and takes everything Steve's dishes out. He's not always so friendly and nice and loving with Catherine. But he doesn't have to work for it either. Catherine is there, always, whenever Steve calls, and orders and demands, she delivers. They end up in a relationship Steve doesn't really work for. It just happens.

(Not gonna move further into this direction. That's for another time.)

So, let's sum this up.

The whole tragedy ends with the way Cath and Steve break up. Steve starts to realize what kind of a woman (in a good way) he has had over all those years. But he missed out so many clear signs. Anyway, he's alone again and for the first time in like forever he realizes there are not that many women just gathering around him without him doing something for it.

But he's still young and bursting with energy and strength. And he meets Lynn and their first date goes down like a freaking drill on a paintball weekend. Steve has fun. He's the hero again and Lynn is smitten and just a frightened and a bit in shock. Lynn teaches Steve that he has to give his fair bit to this relationship and Steve also learns with Lynn that he can't just move on like he always has.

Lynn is a breaking point where Steve realizes for the first time that getting a woman is work, keeping her is even harder work and having a well-functioning relationship is almost impossible to manage. It dawns on him that it's not all for granted, that there are women who give zero fuck about a Smooth Dog in cargo pants. They want a man, a boyfriend, who can talk, who doesn't forget Valentine's Day and who loves to go shopping with them.

Steve's not happy. He's flustered, and bewildered and a bit in shock and he doesn't deal with it.

The years move on, time flies by and he undergoes terrible injuries and terrible losses. Ten years is a long time.

But one day he finds himself sitting at the table and drinking his coffee while he tries to ignore the pain in his bones and he asks himself how the fuck does he make a woman go on a date with him.

And suddenly, Steve doesn't have the support any more of being quarterback, being a young warrior, being SEAL, being the tough head of the task force. He's older, he has issues and the women in his world are emotionally grown and very demanding in a way he has never ever delivered.

So, that's how Steve ends up standing in the dog park with Danny and kind of gets cold feet. He just doesn't know how to deal with it. It's like he's living it backward and experiences all the insecurities others go through when they are teenagers. Steve has never learned how to really win a woman over just with being Steve.

And last but not least. The first person who doesn't take the shit Steve dishes out, who isn't impressed by all his awards and highly decorated Navy career, is one Danny Williams, highly decorated Detective himself. And that's where another story begins.

#meta #steve mcgarett #smooth dog #h50 #steve meta #cowandcalf writes #an explanation to why steve's shy with women #hawaii five 0 #10.04 #reference to 10.04 #all seasons #quarterback #SEAL #character study #i'm going to post this also on ao3

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mobius-prime · 4 years

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135. Sonic the Hedgehog #76

I swear, every time I look at this cover I have two reactions one after the other:

1. I always think he's flipping us off for a second before I examine his hand more closely, and

2. Oh god Robotnik's man boobs. Save us.

Business as Usual

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: FRY Colors: Frank Gagliardo

So things are… bad.

The city has fallen, and by now everyone within has either managed to escape, or been captured and roboticized. Sonic and the others have landed their craft on the edge of town and quickly vacated it, as shadow-bots quickly surrounded it, searching for its former occupants. Sally and Nicole reason that the populace has likely relocated to Knothole and they should go to join everyone else, but Snively immediately shuts this idea down, saying his uncle likely has a file listing Knothole's location and that the village isn't safe at all. Sally then says they have to find a way to prevent him from accessing that file, which Snively is even less on board with.

Sonic immediately blackmails Snively into helping them by pretending like he's going to shout out to the shadow-bots so they can take Snively, as a traitor, back to Robotnik, and he relents. Sonic, Sally, and Snively prepare to sneak into Robotropolis, while Bunnie, Antoine and Tails escort Sonic's parents back to Knothole, where the king is currently addressing the citizens.

Sneaking into the city, Sonic notices a group of shadow-bots surrounding some unlucky Mobians who failed to escape the city in time, right in front of the entrance to Robotnik's HQ. He decides to mount a rescue and create a distraction in one fell swoop, so that Sally and Snively can get inside.

While Snively uses his not-yet-cancelled access card to gain entry, Robotnik rants and raves deeper in the facility about Sonic's escape and immediate subsequent attempts to derail his plans. I should note that at this point, everyone has immediately resumed just calling him "Robotnik" even though he's technically a different entity from the original Robotnik, and it will actually be a little while before anyone transitions into calling him Eggman. So, as I've done before with other things that have different names over the course of the comic, I'll simply refer to him as whatever each individual issue refers to him as. Just know that from now on, if I say "Robotnik" I mean this new Robotnik, and if I mean the original Robotnik, well, I'll say "the original Robotnik." Anyway, Sonic dismantles a bunch of shadow-bots, but more keep arriving, so he advises the rescued Mobians to "juice" while he continues to take care of business. Inside the HQ, Sally hooks Nicole up to Robotnik's central computer to let her do some hacking, but a shadow-bot sneaks up on her from behind and grabs her.

I'm really liking this characterization of Snively, honestly. It's a much more interesting angle than him being just another cackling schemer like his uncle. Outside, as Sonic finishes off the last of the shadow-bots in the area, he spots one of the Mobians he rescued from before running further into the city instead of following everyone else out. He stops her, but she tries to rush past him anyway, sobbing that someone she cares about was captured and dragged into the city by the bots.

Hey-oh, it's Mina Mongoose! This is a character I'm quite fond of, so I'm happy to see her finally make her first appearance! Snively takes the opportunity while everyone is distracted comforting Mina to take his leave, just waltzing alone into the midst of the buildings as though he wasn't terrified of walking in here just ten minutes ago. As Sonic and Sally lead Mina away, heading back for Knothole, Robotnik decides to turn his arm into a gross creepy mass of wires that he then plugs into his system instead of just typing up a search request like a normal person.

Well now, Robotnik, look what could have been avoided had you just used the computer like a non-creepy-robotic-wire-being.

Tales of the Great War (Part Four): Another Point-of-View

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Chris Allan Colors: Frank Gagliardo

While all of the above is going on, Bunnie, Antoine, Tails, and Sonic's parents are busy sneaking out of the city. They wait in hiding for a group of shadow-bots to pass, and Tails suddenly pipes up that they can't leave Jeremiah behind at the library without at least making sure he got out okay. Despite Jules' misgivings, Bernie agrees with Tails, and so they head to the library. Tails calls out for Jeremiah and he pokes his head out from behind a bookshelf with a smile, filing away some books as though literally nothing is wrong.

Bernie, what? This is a rescue mission to get Jeremiah out alive, we don't have time to be reading random passages from books! Jules apparently thinks this is a great idea, however, and begins to read about an assault by the Overlanders on Mobotropolis during the Great War. Colin Kintobor (who is, if you'll remember, the original Robotnik's brother) led the assault, flat out ordering his soldiers to kill everyone they see, because if there's anything that says "good guys," it's trying to wipe out literally every single individual in your enemy's ranks. For whatever reason, Kenders writes this whole section with a weird emphasis on gender, as he mentions the "women and children" being safe in the bunkers as though Mobian women haven't ever been soldiers or warriors or anything. However, clearly not all the women were tucked away like good little housewives, as when the Mobian soldiers head underground Jules notices Bernie, whom he is not yet married to and only recognizes as "the girl I used to debate against in school." Cocoa, a *gasp* female cat who looks much like Hershey and is probably meant to be her mother, and Bernie then lead the group through the tunnels with their "superior eyesight" as women (I'm not joking, Penders literally writes that - apparently somehow being female gives them superior eyesight?). They emerge from the tunnels behind enemy lines, using this to their advantage, but are spotted by Colin before they make their first move.

Geez, man, what is with this bizarre attitude Kenders has toward women in this story? I know he's had his weird moments here and there, but there hasn't been such a strong emphasis on gender like this since way back during that whole "original Robotnik is a misogynist and lures Sally and Bunnie in to be damsels in distress in a shopping mall" episode. Anyway, Colin then escaped into the tunnels and no one ever knew what became of him after that. However, someone apparently snapped a photo at some point, and when the king showed it to Robotnik, he recognized it as his hated brother. He then continued to urge the king to fight aggressively against the Overlanders, and as such was named Warlord in Kodos' place. Jules, finishing the passage, decides that Tails was right that they need to save this knowledge, saying that they should save the books that they can right now and make plans to come back for the rest in the future. At least this is something I can actually get behind - wouldn't want to leave all those books, and Jeremiah, back in this newly-restored dump of a city now would you?

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 76 #writer: karl bollers #writer: ken penders #pencils: james fry #pencils: chris allan #colors: frank gagliardo

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scripttorture · 5 years

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Torture in Fiction: Carrie (1976)

I thought this one was an interesting request, I read Stephen King’s book Carrie as a young teenager but I’d never actually watched the movie. My first impression was that it was strangely sexual in a way that the book wasn’t.

But I’m not here to talk about the strange relationship the horror genre has with female sexuality. I’m rating the depiction and use of torture, not the movie itself. I’m trying to take into account realism (regardless of fantasy or sci fi elements), presence of any apologist arguments, stereotypes and the narrative treatment of victims and torturers.

Carrie is about a teenage girl who is severely bullied at school. She’s ostracised and tormented by her peers, ignored by staff and raised by an abusive extremist. In the midst of this she develops telekinetic powers.

The movie starts with a volley ball game that’s used to establish Carrie’s isolation and the casual way other students verbally abuse her. Later in the shower room Carrie starts to menstruate. She’s completely unaware of the process and panics thinking she’s dying.

As she pleads with the other girls to help her they start to laugh. They corner her in the shower pelting her with tampons and pads. The teacher who comes to intervene slaps and shakes Carrie as she huddles in the corner.

Carrie is sent home. Her mother responds to the news that Carrie’s period has started by hitting her with a book and trying to make her recite misogynist verses about Eve’s sin and the weakness of women. She then drags Carrie to a cupboard and locks her in.

The PE teacher punishes the group of girls who tormented Carrie earlier, their detention period is essentially a forced exercise regime designed to exhaust them. One of the girls, Chris, objects, she’s told the punishment for leaving is refusal of her prom tickets. She argues with the teacher and the teacher slaps and shakes her. Chris leaves.

One of the girls, Sue, appears to regret what she did and persuades her boyfriend Tommy to ask Carrie to the prom in Sue’s place.

Carrie initially refuses, suspecting that it’s a ruse to humiliate her again. Tommy tracks her down to her home and repeatedly asks her to come, not taking Carrie’s repeated refusals for an answer. With her mother calling in the background Carrie eventually gives her very unenthusiastic consent. The scene strongly suggests she does this to get rid of Tommy.

In the mean time Chris blames Carrie for her problems and enlists her boyfriend to take revenge. They break into a farm and kill a pig. The blood is put in a bucket over the stage in the prom hall and another of Chris’ friends volunteers to collect the ballots for prom king and queen.

Carrie argues with her mother about going to the prom. Her mother tries to order Carrie into the closet and Carrie refuses to go. Her mother shakes and berates her and Carrie uses her abilities to close the windows in the house. Her mother calls her a witch and tells her to renounce her powers. Carrie refuses.

Later Carrie’s mother tries to persuade Carrie not to go to the prom. She tells Carrie it’s sinful, tries to make Carrie ashamed of her body, says Tommy isn’t coming and then starts hitting herself and pulling out her own hair in a bid to ‘make’ Carrie stay. Carrie throws her mother on to the bed with her powers.

Carrie and Tommy go to the prom and Carrie appears to be enjoying herself. Chris’ friends rig the voting so that Tommy and Carrie are announced as the prom king and queen. Carrie appears overjoyed.

Sue happily watches them take the stage from the sidelines. Then she notices the rope and the bucket of blood above Carrie. Sue follows the rope under the stage where Chris and her boyfriend are hiding but a teacher tugs her away.

Chris pulls the rope and Carrie is drenched in blood in front of the school. Tommy is hit on the head with the bucket and falls to the floor.

Carrie uses her powers to barricade the doors and turns the fire hose on the trapped crowd. She shorts out the electrics and begins bringing objects down on the crowd, killing the PE teacher. Wires from the microphone wrap around the Principal and he’s thrown against the stage backdrop. The stage catches fire and Carrie walks calmly down from it while the other students panic and scream around her.

As she walks out down the road Chris and her boyfriend drive up behind her and try to hit her with the car. Carrie makes the car swerve, it crashes and explodes.

Carrie returns home and finds lit candles all over the house. When she finds her mother she asks for comfort and her mother asks her to pray. Then she stabs Carrie.

Carrie falls down the stairs and tries to crawl away, but her mother follows with the knife, smiling. The doors are locked and as her mother advances Carrie uses her powers to stab her mother repeatedly. This seems to be instinctual because she later takes her mother’s body in her arms.

The roof starts to collapse and Carrie drags herself and her mother’s body into the cupboard she was locked in to pray. The house collapses around them and catches fire.

In this case most of what I’m reviewing isn’t legally torture, because the legal definition in most countries requires the abuser to be in an official position of power. Carrie is mostly tormented by her peers, people who don’t hold any legal power over her.

There’s a lot going on here and I found it quite hard to categorise the movie. In the end I decided to give it 5/10

The Good

The movie doesn't show abuse as a successful method of control. Slapping Carrie doesn't calm her down. Verbal and physical abuse from her classmates doesn't change her behaviour. Her mother's abuse doesn't stop her wanting, or seeking, 'normal' high school things. Abuse directed towards Chris doesn't change her objectives or make her submit to what she sees as an unfair punishment.

Carrie does show appeasement behaviour towards her mother at several points, but the movie puts this in a larger emotional context. Carrie might thank her mother and kiss her after being abused but the following scene shows her crying in her room. In fact I think what this film shows is how victims often feel constrained by circumstances beyond their control. As soon as the balance of power shifts Carrie starts to defy her mother.

One of the things that stood out for me throughout this movie was the way it portrayed abuse and isolation as intertwined. Carrie is abused at home and hence she is 'weird' and hence she is isolated at school and hence she's an easy target for bullying and more abuse. That's unfortunately very true to life. And it applies to adult survivors just as much as children.

The movie also shows a systematic failure in the school when it comes to tackling abuse. The PE teacher’s response is reactive; she doesn’t actually protect Carrie from her peers and her failure to get through to Chris arguably prompts the ‘prank’ that drives Carrie to violence. This also seems very true to life.

Emotional abuse isn’t dismissed at any point. Most of the physical abuse throughout the movie isn’t scarring; it’s isolation and slaps and small rooms which is often presented as if it does no lasting harm. This isn’t the case here.

The responses different characters have to abuse throughout all seem possible. Carrie’s attempts to defy her mother, withdrawal and appeasement behaviour are all plausible behaviours in abused children. Anger, aggression and violent outbursts are possible and Chris demonstrates them as well as Carrie.

Symptoms also seem apparent even though they’re never named. The ending shows Sue suffering from night terrors and possibly PTSD. Carrie’s behaviour before the prom can be interpreted as showing anxiety and depression.

The Bad

Throughout the movie I didn’t feel as though there was any moral judgement placed on any of the characters. Their actions were presented and the way other characters responded to those actions was presented. For the majority of the abusive incidents I don’t think this is a bad thing. I don’t usually think it’s necessary to spoon feed readers moral messages. But I found the casual use of violence by a teacher who is framed as sympathetic troubling. I also found the way violence between Chris and her boyfriend was framed as normal troubling.

In a similar vein I found the attitude to consent worrying. Carrie is essentially harassed into agreeing to go to the prom. Tommy is pressured by Sue into asking Carrie. Chris pressures her boyfriend into bullying Carrie. Carrie’s mother states that she was raped and then that she enjoyed it.

While the movie clearly shows the reasons Carrie turns on her teachers and school-mates it’s still centred on a young, vulnerable abuse survivor being a danger to the people around her. Which is an unfortunately common narrative.

The idea that abuse survivors are dangerous is propped up by Carrie’s mother claiming she was raped moments before trying to murder her daughter.

Miscellaneous

I was surprised by the level of casual violence and abuse in the movie. Within the first half hour there are several depictions of teachers hitting students (which can be classed as torture), parental abuse, partner abuse and abuse by peers. I suspect much of this reflects different attitudes to violence at the time the film was made.

Overall

I think there are probably a lot of cultural references and touchstones I’m missing throughout this. Even without the bullying and violence it isn’t a school experience I recognise. I can’t help but wonder how different the effect is on an audience that had a mix of genders at school and had things like ‘the prom’ shape their adolescence. In fact just the casual portrayal of teenagers having cars seems unusual to me.

I didn’t really feel moved by the story and I didn’t feel like I recognised or sympathised with any of the characters. It’s certainly not how I would write a story about abuse.

But that doesn’t make it a bad portrayal. My interpretation is that it’s primarily a story which shows characters making a string of bad decisions rather than one which endorses those decisions. The narrative itself seems to present very little judgement, it shows the characters judging each other but doesn’t really seem to support any one.

That lack of internal judgement means it’s possible to interpret Carrie as a narrative about a survivor who feels she has no choice but violence because she faces systematic abuse and a systematic lack of practical support. It’s also possible to interpret Carrie as a narrative about how survivors are a danger to the community at large.

Everything that Carrie shows in terms of responses to abuse and its effects seems plausible to me. None of the abusive practices are portrayed as harmless. Nothing that would cause death or serious injury is portrayed as harmless.

Having said that, Carrie herself is still the villain.

I think we should have room for stories about survivors ‘taking revenge’ and survivors who are just bad people. There are violent and abusive survivors in real life but it’s not nearly as common as most people think.

I’m not sure this story is nuanced enough to successfully make the distinction between showing a violent survivor and showing survivors as violent.

There’s still some good stuff here. The story never dismisses or belittles abuse. It’s focused on the effects and fallout of abuse in a way that seems quite unusual for a horror story. I particularly liked the way the movie showed the communal failure to support or protect Carrie because that is so true to life. It also does a fantastic job of highlighting how interconnected abuse and isolation can be as well as the ways that can make survivors vulnerable.

If this was written today I’d say it was a good first draft. As it is I think this is a little dated and some of the narrative choices leave very unfortunate implications. But there’s a lot of good in here too.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#tw torture #tw rape #tw familial abuse #torture in fiction #Carrie #fantasy #torture in schools #emotional abuse #clean torture #writing victims

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jackelyntam · 4 years

Text

Research project

Jackelyn Tam

Professor Fish Burton

English 2010

30 October 2019

Research Project

Audience: Teens. Who struggle with their identity.

For each of you, “teens”, are trying to find out who you are. Who are you? What defines you? Does someone get to say who you are or is that decision made by you? Some say that the character of one person will depend on their family, their genetic background, or does it stem from the environment around the person? Every story has characters that influence us on how we think makes up a character or a personality. Let’s take the example of the Thor and Loki for example. They both have their own definite character that they play. Thor is the real son of the king and acts almost alike with their father. Loki is an adopted son who does not act or have a character of either his adopted parents. Does his character come from his biological parents or does it come from the environment at which he was raised in? This raises the question, does who you are born from define who you will become? What character do you want to play in your life story? Do you have a say of what character you want to play? Quite often your parents or the people around you may say “you fall after your father so well….” Or “you will be just like your mother/ parents…”. However, do you parents have an influence in who you will become and do they have an influence genetically or environmentally?

The main question is does character or one personality defined by nature or nurture? In this article by Mcleod he explains the extremes to the nature versus nurture topic. Nature by extreme is called “Nativism” (Mcleod). Nativism are people who think that all their abilities and their character are biologically inherited (Mcleod). He writes “psychological characteristics such as behavioral tendencies, personality attributes, and mental abilities are also “wired in” before we are even born.” (Mcleod). This explains how the side of Nativism would have viewed the topic of where character and attributes come from. On the other side of Nativism there is the “Empiricism” (Mcleod). Empiricism is the extreme perspective on a person who thought on the nurture side of the scale. The Empiricist thinks like this, Mcleod writes, “Their basic assumption is that at birth the human mind is a tabula rasa (a blank slate) and that this is gradually “filled” as a result of experience” (Mcleod). Mcleod draws a perfect picture of the two sides: Nature versus Nurture. One either by the extreme naturist or the extreme empiricism. Which one of these extreme ends defines who you are? On the spectrum of nativism, you don’t get a say on who you will become. On the other hand, there is empiricism where you are born with no qualities or attributes, as Mcleod would say “a blank slate”.

In the past there have been men or the society who have tried with efforts to distort the truth of whether nature or nurture creates a person self-worth or character. These people were extreme nativist who would do anything to create judgment and fixed perspectives on a religion, or a race or, a group of a people. There are a couple of evidence from history that proves that men have a way of distorting the way we look at people, however, we will discuss only two. There are many people in life and in school that have a way to discriminate humans from what they look like and who they are born from. The first event in history is the discrimination in WWII specifically for the Jews. In world war II, the Nazi; Hitler convinced the people that the cause of Germany’s problems was because of the Jews. He was convinced that linage of the Jews was a dirty thing. He then started to discriminate and even kill the Jews for their existence based on their linage and their biological inheritance. However, little did he know that the Jews weren’t the problem but the people around them, like Hitler. In reality, the Jews had the right minds and the right intelligence to help society grow and flourish. It was Hitler and his anger and judgment that was blinding him from seeing the truth. In this website article it says “An example of this type of prejudice can be found in the memoirs of a member of the slowly declining British aristocracy, who wrote that her social class resented the Jews "not because we disliked them individually, for some of them were charming and even brilliant, but because they had brains and understood finance."” (web.mnstate.edu/shoptaug/AntiFrames.htm.). The people began to judge the Jews based on where they came from. By nature, they discriminated them and placed them in a box based on by whom they were born from. The problem is not only the fact that they were extreme nativist, but they falsely accused the linage of Jews. Another article has claimed, “throughout history, many have sought to define Jews, incorrectly, as a single and uniform category of people with fixed characteristics, which racists and anti-Semites falsely believe are rooted in biology. But the lives Jews have lived around the world and throughout history can perhaps be characterized best by their immense diversity.” (European Jewish Life before World War II).

The second evidence in history, of this biases and clouded thought process in nativism, is the racism against African American humans. This set of wrong judgment based on their color and their biological features is the same situation as the discrimination for the Jews. Except with this situation, of racism towards African American humans, they would change the history they taught in class to drill in the young minds the false accusation for the African American humans. This article by Brosnan talks about how black people were portraited in the 1800’s school education. Schools at the time were taught differently than the school we teach today. The schools back then would teach things they thought would benefit the society. They believed that white people were significantly “superior” than the African Americans. They would design textbooks and book based on this knowledge that African American are worth less than the white race. In result of writing text books like this, they would in reality, force African Americans psychologically to stay in the fields and hard labor work areas (Bronsnan). By looking at history, we have seen so many mistakes based on non-researched and clouded judgments be based on whether someone’s worth or someone’s character stems off nature or nurture. We can’t let the biases from the world or others decided for us what we can be or what we are. What character or attribute is inherited by nature, and which is created from nurture?

Sexual identity is an example of an attribute that is created by nature. In this article, written by Loof, where he explains more about the sexual dominance and identity, he expands its most recent controversies in today’s topic of how sex is determined (Loof). Is it by nature, biologically created through hormones and chemical reactions with in the chromosomes, or is it by nurture? In today’s world people have wanted to become more like each other sex. Women want to be equal with men (loof). They want to be treated like how men are viewed as (Loof). Biologically one may be born as a female or a male human however, in today’s world there may be cases where nurture can potentially overcome what has biologically shaped gender. However, on the other hand, there are attributes that cannot be changed which are called the major genes (Fuller). Fuller writes an interesting article based on clearer way to see things on the nature side. He explains that the major genes are those that are passed down from parent to child like hair color, eye color, height etc (Fuller). He also says that diseases or viruses is also something that we cannot change by nurture, but it is passed down to parent to child (Fuller). Diseases that are passed down genetically affects the personality and attributes of a child. There are some diseases or viruses that affect the intelligence or even the ability to use the mind well enough to have their own character. This is where nature cannot be avoided. Shuttleworth agrees with Fuller, nature cannot be avoided. He writes that there are some fine lines of nature that we cannot control which are diseases that are passed down. There is another article, written by Shuttleworth, agrees with Fuller that some nature attributes that are passed down cannot be changed. However, he says that environment and heredity both have an influence as to forming character and other attributes (Shuttleworth). Shuttleworth in his own words says, “Further, in the case of intelligence and many other variables, it is essential that we have a determination of the joint contribution of hereditary and of environmental differences.” (Shuttleworth). Fuller starts to back up what Shuttleworth have been claiming on how a character is formed. There are attributes that are inherited that cannot be changed, a set of genes that are set into your DNA that cannot be changed, however, once one is being developed inside the womb, that is where nurture comes to influence your development in building character. Your parents give you a set of DNA that is unchangeable but inherited. After you are given this DNA form, you are vulnerable to have nurture to develop into your character (Fuller). Some may say you “fall after your father or your mother” however, one does not exactly inherit a 50 to 50 ratio of mother/father side. “variation in heredity are the causes of variation in traits.” (Fuller) Evolution makes organisms; humans to have variation in the DNA. Your parents are a mix of other genes that were passed down from one family tree to the next… therefore your parents will pass down a variation of genes that are not particularly what your mother or father have shown to have but are in the blood line. They may be a recessive disease or characteristics that runs in the blood line of the father or mother.

The last three sources are interesting because it connects nature and nurture together to help build character. The last three articles mainly talk about “biological clocks”. The first article is by Mcleod, the article introduces the biological clock theory. This article believes that a person’s personality and character may not reveal itself as a child but over time it will come. It is as if a biological clock is ticking its time for each individual gene to starts its chemical process. The article says “Characteristics and differences that are not observable at birth, but which emerge later in life, are regarded as the product of maturation. We all have an inner “biological clock” which switches on (or off) types of behavior in a pre-programmed way.” (Mcleod). The environment of development affects the way or when the genes are turned on… “What does it mean that grit is “heritable”? Although an estimated 99.9% of your genes are exactly the same as mine and your neighbor’s and literally everyone else you know, a tiny fraction of human genes differ.” (Angela). Sometimes we think that character and “grit” are from nature, meaning that these qualities come from genetics, which is mostly true. From the nativist point of view, alike from what Angela said, we are all practically genetically the same (Angela). Now, here is the trick to this. Most of our genes are turned off. Angela compared our genes like a switch that is turned off (Angela). When that certain gene is turned on, let say for example a gene that causes “grit” like qualities, that person will have that ability to overcome challenges; to use this quality of grit to become a better person. Therefore, the main question we all have been wondering is, how do we turn it on? How do we turn on the gene’s that are on “off pilot”? In the point of view of the nurture side of things, the way to turn on is simply through experiences. Experiences and environment triggers chemicals inside of us to “turn on” the gene that has been “off pilot”. Circumstances that happen to a person will trigger a character that maybe unlikely, considering his/her background, to achieve. We may be born with character or attributes that may already be “turned on”. Yet, we also have the ability to change or gain more attributes and qualities into our genetic pool. Therefore, nature versus nurture: it goes both ways. We are not born with nothing and yet we are also the creators of more. Creators to change and create more of who we are (Angela).

There are stages to life that are delicate and it can affect the delicacy of the biological clock. The delicate stage of life are the developing stages of finding who you are. The last article called “Development Holds the Key to Understanding the Interplay of Nature versus Nurture in Shaping the Individual” explains more about this. The stages are for example ages from in the womb to ages 25 years of age. These developing stages are so critical because it will affect a person permanently for the future than the stages of adulthood. Adolescents who face hard environment events in their lives are mostly likely to have a great impact in their life to come (Development Holds the Key to Understanding the Interplay of Nature versus Nurture in Shaping the Individual). An outside impact on the body of a person in a developing stage will significantly affect the person in the long run. For example if a young person was to be treated with any kind of drug to mess with the growth of the young person, the drug will also mess up with the timing of turning on the genes that are suppose to turn on to have a normal mental and physical side of human (Development Holds the Key to Understanding the Interplay of Nature versus Nurture in Shaping the Individua). These sensitive periods of growth are important to the timing of creating the character of a person. It is implied that genes and the experiences in a sensitive growth period trigger on other genes and rather say cognitive functions of the brain (Development Holds the Key to Understanding the Interplay of Nature versus Nurture in Shaping the Individual). Meaning that one can gain more intellect no matter what. One is not stuck in the same situation. As do babies grow do the brain develop… suggesting that the easer to develop and change cognitive behavior is the more likely to gain more intellect… meaning that at a younger age where it’s a sensitive time where the brain absorbs everything is the best time for increasing intellect. It’s not just intellect, he says “wider range of cognitive behavior” (Development Holds the Key to Understanding the Interplay of Nature versus Nurture in Shaping the Individual). The controversy whether it is nature versus nurture is deceiving because it is nature and nurture that creates one’s character. We are born with a set of genes that are not changeable however, once we are in the womb nurture plays a big part in shaping what was already given to you. Through setting off the right genes at certain, specific times, can shape a person’s personality and character to be unique and different from others.

In conclusion, nature versus nurture is a controversial topic that many want to know if to whom you are born to will affect the person you will become. There are people out there who think that nature is the only thing that creates a human being character. There are people who think that if you are born to a killer it makes you a killer. There are people who think that nurture is the only way to which one can create a life character. They think that you are born with a blank slate. Nature versus nurture is controversial, however, I believe that it is not nature versus nurture but it is nature and nurture that affect and creates a personality and character. To answer the question of what changes character, the answer is nature and nurture. This answer questions like who do you want to become? Does who you are born from change the outcome of who you will become? Your parents do play role in creating your DNA and raising you, meaning they create the environment in which you will be raised in. The environment that you create and the parents that created you will affect a big significant towards of who you will become. Your family, your friends, the influences that are around you will shape what you will take and what will trigger you inside. Even the financial opportunities and help that your family will provide will shape the person you will become (Cherry, 2019). These do affect in who you will become however there is your own will to change yourself. It is your part to make sure you aren’t affected by the people around you that may put false accusations on you and your background. It is your job to make sure that you are in environment that will turn on the genes that are needed to have a normal or even better qualities in your life to come.

Sources

Mcleod, Saul. “Nature vs. Nurture in Psychology.” Nature Nurture in Psychology | Simply Psychology, https://www.simplypsychology.org/naturevsnurture.html.

Untitled Document, http://web.mnstate.edu/shoptaug/AntiFrames.htm

“European Jewish Life before World War II.” Facing History and Ourselves, https://www.facinghistory.org/resource-library/teaching-holocaust-and-human-behavior/european-jewish-life-world-war-ii.

Brosnan, AnneMarie. “Representations of Race and Racism in the Textbooks Used in Southern Black Schools during the American Civil War and Reconstruction Era, 1861-1876.” Paedagogica Historica: International Journal of the History of Education, vol. 52, no. 6, Jan. 2016, pp. 718–733. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=eric&AN=EJ1120017&site=eds-live.

Loof, Arnold De. “Nature, Calcigender, Nurture: Sex-Dependent Differential Ca2 Homeostasis as the Undervalued Third Pillar.” Taylor & Francis, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/19420889.2019.1592419.

By: John L. Fuller research associate division of behavior studies R. B. Jackson memorial laboratory Bar harbor, Main

Shuttleworth, F. K. “The Nature versus Nurture Problem I Definition of the Problem.” Journal of Educational Psychology, vol. 26, no. 8, Nov. 1935, pp. 561–578. EBSCOhost, doi:10.1037/h0061615.

“Nature versus Nurture.” Character Lab, 1 Mar. 2019, https://characterlab.org/thoughts-of-the-week/nature-versus-nurture/.

“Development Holds the Key to Understanding the Interplay of Nature versus Nurture in Shaping the Individual.” Developmental Cognitive Neuroscience, Elsevier, 20 June 2017, https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1878929317301196.

Cherry, Kendra. “How Different Experiences Influence a Child's Development.” Verywell Mind, Verywell Mind, 18 Aug. 2019, https://www.verywellmind.com/experience-and-development-2795113.

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