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riality-check · 10 months

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TW: past verbal and emotional abuse

The Harrington house is a game of perfection.

Steve has known this fact for as long as he can remember. There is a right way, a narrow way, a rigid way, of doing things. Numbers dictate all: rebounds, points, and assists for basketball, new PRs in freestyle and backstroke for swim. The numbers themselves do not matter; all that does is that they grow and shrink appropriately.

Infinite growth is not sustainable; not for Steve's stats, not for Richard's stocks. Both of them strive for it anyway.

The house must be clean. The parties can't be busted. The people of Hawkins will only say good things about the Harrington family. Gloria strives for these things, day in and day out.

The Harrington house is also a game of Perfection.

Steve hated that game growing up. The one with the little yellow pieces and the blue board. He was never able to get all the pieces in the right spot before the board spit them all back out.

It made a ticking noise, like a time bomb. Steve doesn't know when he started associating that sound with his parents.

It fits. It fits almost too well. They're fine, at least for a little while. The ticking starts quiet, then grows louder and louder until everything blows up.

The thing is, in Perfection, that the board blows up even if you put all the pieces in the right spots in time. The thing is, in the Harrington house, that everything blows up even if Steve does everything right.

The ticking lasts for days sometimes, weeks others. It's impossible, random, and impossibly random.

The only consistent thing is the board blowing up. And when that happens, so does the shouting.

The Party thinks that Tommy and Carol taught Steve to be cruel. That they're the ones who taught him how to bare his fangs and spit venom. That once he left them, the rage left him.

He's okay with letting them think that. It's easier than explaining that Richard and Gloria are the ones who taught him how to snap and shout, how to tear holes in other people with a few well-spoken barbs.

When Steve thinks of his parents, he thinks of fighting. He thinks of his father calling him useless and his mother calling him an idiot. He thinks of his mother calling his father dirt and his father calling his mother a bitch.

There are never any apologies. "I'm sorry" is never said in the Harrington house, even when the board gets reset.

They say "I got you pizza for dinner." "I saw this at the store and thought of you." "Do you want to come with me to get gas?"

And with that, the ticking starts up again.

Horrible things are said when the board blows up. Steve says horrible things when the board blows up. He's called his father an asshole and his mother self-absorbed and apologized without any apology at all.

He cleaned the pool instead.

Steve doesn't want to the board to blow up in the middle of the Munson trailer. It's why he's keeping his mouth shut while Eddie yells at him.

"What the hell, Stevie?" Eddie shouts, arms flying. "I told you that you can’t do that!"

“You told me you don’t want me to,” Steve says, staying calm and measured.

Calm and measured. Not blowing up. Steve isn’t going to snap or shout or bitch. He isn’t.

“Fucking semantics!”

“They were saying-”

“I don’t care what they were saying!” Eddie roars. “I don’t give a shit what they say about me!”

It’s true. Wayne calls Eddie “Teflon,” says that nothing sticks to him, least of all anyone’s opinion. Steve knows that Eddie doesn’t care about what most people in Hawkins think about him.

But he cares very much about what the people who care about him think.

Steve can say a whole lot of things right now. He’s angry, physically biting his tongue to ground himself. He can say a whole lot of things to cut Eddie to the bone, to end the argument and then some.

But he won’t.

Love is knowing how to hurt someone and choosing not to. It’s using a knife to split an apple to share instead of to cut skin to ribbons.

Steve can’t trust himself not to slash Eddie open. He says awful things when everything goes to hell like this, snaps back hard when snapped at first, operates purely on instinct.

He doesn’t want to hurt Eddie, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I care that you could have gotten hurt when you swung at those assholes,” Eddie continues. “I care that I wasn’t there with you when you defended yourself. I care that you won’t let me take a look at your hands and make sure they’re alright.”

Steve squeezes the knuckles of this right hand in his left. It stings, but he’s fine. Nothing broken. He knows from experience

“Stop it, you’re hurting yourself,” Eddie barks.

Steve lets go of his hands, lets them hang loosely at his sides.

“So, what the hell, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, still loud, still snappish.

A variety of terrible answers surges to the front of Steve’s mind. Eddie’s biggest insecurities, the things he’s only told Steve when he thought he was asleep. Ways to wipe the anger off his face and replace it with stuff easier to manage: shock, hurt, sadness. Things he would say if he didn’t particularly like Eddie, if he were still in high school, if he were still in his parents’ house.

Steve doesn’t say anything. He keeps the knife in its drawer. He closes his eyes tight and breathes in once, then again.

“Hey,” Eddie says, softer.

Steve opens his eyes to find him a step closer, hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says.

Oh.

Well.

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that.

He’s said it before. Of course he has. He knows the words, knows that he needed to say them to Dustin and Robin and Max, and he has. He’s stepped too far with jokes and forgot about some things and missed some things they’ve said.

But he’s never yelled at them. They’ve never yelled at him.

This is not how this is supposed to go. Eddie isn’t supposed to apologize. He’s supposed to clean Steve up or make him dinner or invite him along to go grocery shopping.

And Steve was supposed to snap back.

“It’s okay,” he says because that’s what he’s supposed to say, yeah?

Eddie shakes his head. “It’s not. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“It was bound to happen.”

Eddie stares at him, big doe eyes shining, like he has five heads. It makes Steve want to put his bloody hands behind his back, make him shrink.

He swears he can hear ticking, but the board just reset. Didn’t it?

“What?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I got scared, but that doesn’t mean I get to yell at you. That’s not okay.”

What does Eddie get to do, if not yell?

I deserve it, Steve thinks, but he’s smart enough to know that saying that out loud will just lead to another fight.

There’s been barely any time to put the pieces back.

Steve doesn’t get it. But, he figures he’s always been a little slow on the uptake, so he can watch. Observe. Figure it out later on his own. He’s pretty good at that.

“Okay,” Steve says.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he holds his hands out for Eddie to take.

He’s dragged along to the sink, where Eddie rinses the cuts out with cool water before bandaging them up with the remnants of a box of Band-Aids from the bathroom. When they’re dry and finished, he presses a kiss to each knuckle, feather light.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking at Steve very seriously.

“Me, too,” Steve says, voice a little hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

It feels good to say. It feels good to mean.

Standing there in the kitchen of a trailer in Forest Hills, looking at the mismatched furniture and half-full ashtrays of the living room, holding hands with his boyfriend formerly accused of murder and apologizing for the first time and meaning it, Steve feels like he can finally breathe.

The ticking has finally stopped, and silence sounds so sweet.

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst #fluff #happy ending #tw verbal abuse #(it’s in the past)#idk what else to tag this #i’m tired #anyways it’s projection hours

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

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Oh god, I was just giggling so hard at howdy anons ask and your reply about reader letting König wait (sending a smooch to you both ❤️😘). He really deserves to suffer a little like that lol! Just imagining this guy, who likes to see himself as so strong and dominant, especially towards woman, slowly but surely lose his fucking marbles... And all because of that sweet little lady, who has his horniness in a bloody choke hold - not even realising the power she has over him. He's never had to show this much restraint... And he does hold back because, he even more likes to see himself as a gentlemen towards his sweetie (one who will absolutely ruin and wreck her once she let's him off his leash and takes the muzzle off). Poor little Köni.

I can see him letting out this sexual frustration at training for example. He is working these punching bags like absolutely batshit crazy. Destroying gym equipment, because he goes in so hard and has just soooo much pent up energy after every little cuddling session with sweet reader and doesn't know what to do with hit (violently masturbating after being with her hardly helps...). The other operators at the base gym just side eying him and wondering, if he now reached the final state of madness and silently prepare for the explosion that will wipe out all life on earth...

Also: we are really branching out with the toxic König brand here. First the institute, now the book club. I'm loving the growth here. Maby we can establish some kind of co working space next at toxic König headquarters, so we all have a place where we can thirst efficiently and just pump these numbers up even more for Toxic König Inc. (TKI). I can see an involvement in the stock market by next quarter at this growth rate. Maby some Tupperware-esk door to door sales to get more people hooked on to toxic König? (ok, that sounds to much like a cult now...)

Haha this is so crazy, all I wanted was to make Ghost happy, get him laid, perhaps even get him married… but here I am, 6 months later, having this blog and wondering which content warnings to slap on another König post where we discuss his obsession with virgins and their mythical hymen blood 💕

He destroys the punching bag (RIP) and somehow manages to rip the pull up bar from the concrete wall. His deadlifts can be heard all the way to the mess – envious rookies would say König is doing it wrong, that it's a major error in execution, but the veterans know better... This crazy lunatic is simply having trouble with women (again).

But you know what would make König nearly faint?

When sweet innocent reader finally allows his hands roam a bit!

He's allowed to caress her waist as they cuddle, she even lets him bring his huge palm on her tits – it feels like the most erotic thing ever, just to paw those soft breasts over her shirt. And what happens next is that she rolls her hips – König holds his breath – she's actually pressing her ass against his cock. Of course they're still wearing clothes, but her movements are nothing short of sexual.

It makes his brain shut down completely, but soon he's panting in her ear, grinding his groin against the swell of her ass in rhythm with her movements. She doesn't stop him when his hand slowly, tentatively shifts down, then forces its way under the waistband of her pants – ach du Scheiße, it's finally happening… Can this be real?

His fingers slip under her underwear and arrive on her soft mound. He tries to shove his hand further down and into her folds but then – Scheiße – delicate fingers curl around his wrist and pick his hand up from paradise.

"Please… I'm just not ready yet," she explains gently, and the German curses in his mind are loud and foul as König tries to catch his breath and ignore the fact that his boxers are painfully tight and now stained and wet with precum.

"Let me lick your cunt," he offers with a hoarse voice while she's still holding him by the wrist, denying access to her. "Bitte... I just want to have a taste..."

Sweet reader goes tense and turns, looks at the soldier who has a funny accent and weird mannerisms, the soldier who was supposed to be a gentleman, with parted lips and eyes wide from shock.

"König, you can't say things like that…!"

#his head explodes after that #we thought he was a villain but NO this is where his villain arc BEGINS #she drives him to madness #I wonder what happens when König can't play the gentleman anymore 🥹#yandere könig #answered #könig x virgin!reader #könig x virgin reader

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just-your-average-cryptid · 7 months

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ok I know fluff all about economics but. we really need to move away from shareholders and stocks

look at Lego. It’s privately owned, all the stock is in family/company hands, no shareholders. The bricks are made just as well, they’ve kept up good business, they’re doing great. No degrading quality or crappy tricks to increase profits, a set from the 90s will work just as well as a brand new one. Only real difference is more complex pieces (I did their monthly builds before they ended it a few years back, you can see the improvements over the years.)

now look at apple. Apple went public, they’ve got plenty of shareholders. Apple changed their charger ports to a proprietary version. Apple got rid of headphone jacks on their phones. Apple forces you to get a new phone by making apps only use newer software versions that old phones can’t get. Or just killing their battery.

yeah, these are two specific and very different companies, but the point is that businesses that answer to shareholders have to convince them to keep those shares. they want a return on their investment- line go up, more more more, bigger and better. Private companies like Lego don’t - they can keep doing the same thing forever, as long as it still works, and make small improvements along the way. You go public, you chain yourself to the infinite growth cult. And at a certain point, you’ve hit the max. There’s only so many people who need so many things. There’s only so much material to make or run things. You physically can’t keep growing forever.

now this bit is my personal opinion, but shareholders. don’t actually do anything useful. it feels like if I gave you $20 one time and then expect you to give me 0.5% of your paycheck every week after that. I didn’t do anything to help you get that money, but I gave you that $20, so I deserve it. actually, I deserve more. you need to work harder so I can get more money from you. otherwise I’ll take that $20 back, plus interest. you don’t want that, do you? no. so go do some 14-hour shifts and ignore your friends so I can get more money out of you.

you get what I mean? it’s dumb. it sounds really, really dumb.

do not explain the stock market to me I know how it works it’s still stupid

anyway

if we want to still have a livable planet and make real progress towards… anything actually beneficial to the general population and not ten guys with more money than god, we need to step away from shareholder control of businesses. it helps no one, it causes so many problems, it’s not good. deincentivize eternal growth and expansion, center people over profit. use over profit. longevity over profit. etc.

#it speaks #enshittification #anti capitalism #i mean it I’m not hearing 1000 explanations about the stock market shut up

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wayward-delver · 2 years

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I wonder when the fandom will remember that Vee's going to get ALOT bigger and scarier as she grows up.

This isn’t exclusive to that one basilisk either, all the others she was with developed the same traits. (granted not as pronounced, probably cause they’re still young)

(You may be wondering, why they would look so different, but I a theory for it)

Tyrannosaurus Rex wasn’t just the single most massive and powerful predator that lived on land, it was also the only large predator on its continent during its entire reign. This was due to a rare form of Ontogenetic Growth,(which is the physiological changes in an animals development). Unlike other animals who are simply smaller and/or less formed versions of their parents, ala most reptiles, mammals, and even birds. The chicks of Tyrannosaurus were much daintier and more gracefully built than their parents; with smaller skulls/teeth and longer legs proportional to their body mass. This allows them to run much faster and catch smaller and more nimble prey than the adults, thus avoiding direct competition for food with them in youth. Only ages 14-18yrs old do their adult traits rapidly develop. Their bodies/limbs beefing up immensely, their teeth/skulls becoming more robust to take on the large prey they subsisted on as well as compete for territories against rivals. This combined with the protection of their parents allowed them to push out all other intermediate predators,(save Dakotaraptor), and monopolize the entire predator niche of Late Cretaceous North America.

As you can probably tell by close inspection Vee’s differences in appearance to the Greater Basilisk line up very well with the T-Rex. Her jaws/fangs are considerably smaller with her neck also being shorter/skinnier. In contrast, the fully developed adult basilisk could easily devour both an abomination and Willow’s buff plant monster whole. But it seems that while basilisks draw a lot their powers from magic, it doesn’t play a directly vital part of their immediate survival as Vee appeared no worse for wear with her magic shortage. And seeing as she also didn’t hesitate to attempt snapping up Luz as a treat it’s safe assume adult basilisks are carnivores,(or at least predatory omnivores like coyotes/hornbills/bears). Vee and perhaps even her slightly more developed peers on the other hand would likely fail spectacularly trying to replicate this,(not that would if they could either). So its safe to assume that whatever they would be going after, it would generally be both smaller and more manageable such as the demon rats/birds, magical objects, fruits/plant matter, and even cooked foods. This allows both youngsters and adults to occupy a territory without completely depleting it in a short period of time. This may initially seem hard to believe, but note the giant basilisk wasn’t exactly normal, as Vee explained her peer’s ravenous behavior stems from the major psychological damage their constant experimentation they were subjected to by Belos. In reality, Basilisks would’ve drained and consumed only one or a couple creatures in a single sitting to prevent prey stocks from running out.

At the end of the day however, this is just fun speculative biology/evolution, unless confirmed by the creators take everything I say as only theory not canonical fact. This also isn’t here to say that Vee or any of kind are naturally “evil,” it’s clear cruelty/violence isn’t inherent to them no more than any other witch or demon in the isles. Thank you for your time and remember to hug and praise our sweet baby eel.

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silverheartlugia2000 · 1 year

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DCXDP prompt

Ok, so there's plenty of Danny laying low or freaking out about the no meta rule, but I have this CRAVING of someone for once just explaining it to him? Like whoever bird or birds he's talking to just leans in and whispers "Wanna know a secret? That's mostly just a mind control precaution. I mean would you want to see Supes jacked up on fear gas? If the league do come over he prefers to be called first so he's close if something happens."

Danny- "Oh... yeah that makes sense actually, that shit isn't fun to be under.."

"Wait is THAT why you have that string of robberies on your record?!"

"That and the time my whole town got possessed in order to make me look bad and get arrested.."

The bird then drags Danny into the cave to open Bruce's file on him, and they both sit down and fill in the gaps on the shadier spots of his record. Heck Danny eventually gives Bats a few thermoses and other less harmful but still disabling device blueprints to add to the contingency file cause even if Dan is in therapy and on probation he knows his shit luck will probably make it needed sooner rather than later and he knows how fast it will go bad.

It comes in very handy at the next gala when Vlad attempts to have a duplicate overshadow Bruce who refuses to take his business propositions. Vlad gets nosey before Danny pulls up his king rights and makes vlad take an Oath (the magic binding kind) to not mess with Bruce or his family or reveal any of their super identities to anyone at all. Constantine is there beforehand to read over the contract and outthink any loopholes before vlad can take advantage of them.

Danny gives them samples of ecto-dejecto for medical emergencies, the Bat's keep them refreshed and in stock especally after they meet Ellie and hear about her stability problems. With help from Frostbite and Danny's ok they start working on a more reliable formula just for Ellie's sake.

Yes Jason is calmer around the halfas and he is slowly stabilizing enough form a proper core from it, (not an instant fix this time!) whether hes becoming a true halfa, more towards a remnant, or both they arent sure. But one night when the phantoms arent around Jason is having a bad time, reacting from something he was hit with during a fight. Tim just grabs one of the ecto-pens on a whim and it just flushes out the toxin so fast Jay passes out. When he wakes up his core has had a good growth spurt, its still not complete yet but he's beginning to get some minor abilities, the Phantom sibs start coaching him before it gets strong enough for Jason to turn completely intangible and if Jay starts complaining? Clockwork whisks them ALL up to the tower for a home movie night of Danny's greatest fails. Grampa has a collection, good and bad XD. Yes Danny is cringing in shame while eating Clockwork's ecto cookies but Jason is slowly starting to understand the importance of getting the basics right cause he does NOT want to accidentally sink completely under the ground without being able to get back out no thank you!!

What core type would he get anyway? Shadow's like Johnny because of the stealth perks? Earth to prevent being buried again? Would he have literature as a secondary obsession cause obviously he's gonna follow Danny into the family/protection category but since Danny also has a space obsession why not?

He puts Jazz's name in the list of superhero safe therapists, the fact she's already making waves at Arkam is only boosting her reputation. Especially once they read her paper on ghost obsessions and how sometimes they are comparable to hyper-fixations in autistics in the way they both satisfy and promote healthy growth for a ghosts physical and mental state but also how being deprived of them or forced to go against them can be severely harmful to their literal health.

And that was one thing the birds kept tripping on to understand whenever they needed to bench one of the halfas but they would end up just hovering around NEEDING to be helpful no mater how much they are told to go back to bed. They also get a whole new understanding on what happened to Dan cause yeah his whole timeline is based on loosing his family and retaliating out of grief.

So from then on the halfas are allowed to help with little tasks as long as they do not strain their recovery at all. Whenever Danny gets sickly and depressed they take him up to the watch tower, Ellie gets lessons in different languages so she can interact more when they let her join them on international trips, Jason gets set loose in a newly discovered bookstore when the manor's or Bab's library isn't enough, and Dan.. they're still figuring him out but he seems to enjoy wrecking little play city set ups and games where you play as the monster like Godzilla or Rampage along with general ghost sibling rough housing. (Lilo and Stitch is his favorite movie but you'd be hard pressed to get him to admit it,)

As for ships, definitely anger management. Jason becomes an unofficial fourth Phantom sib. Platonic everlasting trio cause Danny loves his friends and they will pet him like a cat for hours while his tail coils around them possessively like a giant snake and still make memes of it when he's grumpy. Brain dead is fun also, especially if Danny or the others are capable of Little Baby Man form and Tim has to fight Damian for cuddle rights! Bats has his usual girls but hey superman isn't that bad to hang around either.

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #silverlugia's free prompts #danny phantom #batman #jason peter todd #danielle phantom #dan phantom #halfa jason #tag me if you use this #little baby man danny?

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accio-victuuri · 24 days

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Exclusive interview with Wang Yibo: Maintain a sincere heart丨"War of Faith" hits the airwaves

Since its launch on CCTV 8 in late March, the contemporary youth growth drama "War of Faith", directed by Yao Xiaofeng and written by Weng Liangping, starring Wang Yibo, Li Qin, Wang Yang and others, has been performing well in recent days. The show topped the CVB prime-time ratings the day after it aired. The real-time ratings of Kuyun peaked at 2, and the popularity on iQiyi exceeded 9,600. The ratings are both good. The male protagonist Wei Ruolai, played by young actor Wang Yibo, is also loved by the audience for his smart, intelligent and righteous character.

"He is very passionate, has a sense of justice, is persistent and brave in his work. Even when facing the dark social reality, Wei Ruolai still maintains a sincere heart and wants to change the social status quo through his own efforts." Wang Yibo accepted the Liberation Daily Exclusive interview with a reporter from Shangguan News, explaining what "Wei Ruolai" is in his eyes.

At the beginning of the TV series, there is an assassination, a rescue, and a stock market game. The plot advances on multiple parallel lines, but they contain inextricable connections. "War of Faith" is set in Shanghai in the 1930s. It adopts a novel narrative incision and starts from the perspective of the financial industry. It embeds the storyline on the real historical picture of Shanghai and depicts Shanghai from 1929 to 1934. A scene filled with smoke and silent struggle. This makes the social turmoil in a specific historical period and the intrigue on the financial front in the play cleverly form an intertextuality.

From the character setting point of view, Wei Ruolai is a character with obvious growth meaning. In the complicated political, economic and social environment of Shanghai at that time, Wei Ruolai, as a young man who bravely came to Shanghai from the Jiangxi countryside, rented in Qibao Street, a mixed and dilapidated place. His initial wish was just to be admitted to the Central Bank and have a good job. income. Wang Yibo revealed that what impressed him about the role of Wei Ruolai was his charisma. This ideal and belief in taking family and country as one's own responsibility, as well as the unique passionate feelings of young people, are the character traits that Wang Yibo admires.

As a young man from a poor family who left his hometown to work in Shanghai, Wei Ruolai showed great personal talent in the financial field. Whether he is helping his neighbor Aunt Zhou on Qibao Street to trade stocks, or being fearless in the face of fire during the central bank exam, the character's agility and human touch are all reflected. When Wei Ruolai got up early to rush to the central bank for an interview, her pair of torn socks, her leather shoes that "gathered dust" under the bed, and her slightly messy hairstyle in the mirror all gave the scenes in the play a sense of life.

In Wang Yibo's view, Wei Ruolai was just like the young people of that era. Although he initially regarded his career as a job that could earn more money to support his family, he had his own ideals and ambitions in his heart. This can be seen from his bent on joining the central bank. "In the context of the times, he was eager to create value through his own efforts on the best financial platform, improve people's livelihood, and make society better."

"War of Faith" adopts a two-line parallel narrative structure. One line is a financial war without gunpowder, and the other is a thrilling spy war drama. In the workplace where the central bank is the stage, the new senior adviser Shen Tunan (played by Wang Yang) plays the role of Wei Ruolai's master and becomes his guide on the career path. Shen Tunan is both good and evil, and he wants to promote Shanghai's financial reform, and he does not hesitate to take risks with his own life. Shen Tunan's sister Shen Jinzhen (played by Li Qin) and Wei Ruolai's brother Wei Ruochuan are both underground members of the Communist Party of China. In the dark current situation, they disregard their personal lives for the cause of the party. Therefore, these important characters surrounding Wei Ruolai constituted his dilemma in social situation, and also laid the foundation for Wei Ruolai and Shen Tunan to part ways.

Wang Yibo feels that Shen Tunan plays an important role in Wei Ruolai's professional and personal growth. "Wei Ruolai, who had just entered the workplace and had no work experience, just rushed forward with momentum and persistence. Therefore, he admired Shen Tunan very much and once regarded him as the direction of his life's efforts. The two of them also learned from each other in the process of getting along."

But as Wei Ruolai received more and more attention, the corruption within the Kuomintang was exposed in front of him. Inspired by the people around him, Wei Ruolai and Shen Tunan eventually embarked on completely different paths of faith. "After experiencing a series of changes such as investigating the counterfeit currency case and treasury bills, he witnessed the darkness and corruption of the current situation, and realized that he needed to change the status quo of the country and fight for the people. Therefore, the sense of opposition between his master and his faith made him once I lost confidence in Shen Tunan, who was once a like-minded person, and eventually embarked on a different path of faith, but Shen Tunan has always been Wei Ruolai's guide"

Director Yao Xiaofeng once said in an interview that he chose Wang Yibo to play the role because he saw many similarities between the two. "I saw something in Wang Yibo. I felt that this story should be filmed as a small character who came to a big city to develop, and then accidentally got involved in a bloody storm and fell into a battle between two forces that were beyond his power. , let him hesitate, let him make a choice."

In one scene, his brother Wei Ruochuan was betrayed by his companions. After searching for Wei Ruolai in Shanghai, he eventually died due to excessive blood loss. In this scene, Wang Yibo performed Wei Ruolai's pain and fear. After his brother died, Wei Ruolai had no time to grieve and buried his brother in pain overnight. "In such a terrifying period, if you have a Communist brother, you have to be screened, and the first thing you will definitely bring is fear. I was very impressed by Wang Yibo in this scene, and the whole audience applauded (after filming)." Yao Xiaofeng said. In Wang Yibo's eyes, Yao Xiaofeng is a director who pays great attention to details. "He is more of a good guide to the actors in terms of performance. He will let me use my own real experiences and feelings to understand the character's current emotions, allowing the actors to perform the performance more closely to life."

In real life, Wang Yibo likes racing. When a reporter asked which scene in "War of Faith" was the most fun, his answer was a bit unexpected but reasonable. "The most fun thing was riding a motorcycle from that era." As for what themes or roles he wants to challenge in the future, his answer is also very open, "I want to try them all, and have a sense of freshness."

#AAAAHHHH YASSS THANK YOU FOR THE INTERVIEW!#wang yibo #wei ruolai #war of faith #accio victuuri translation

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mikami · 2 months

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do you. Think.. L has hairloss.. since he's canonically underweight and we've only mostly seen him at sugar

Oh my god... The case of the missing eyebrows, finally explained...!!

Okay no, I'm joking. Thankfully I think the rules of anime hair protect L from hair loss issues.

I wouldn't put too much stock in him being underweight given... every single character is underweight, according to HTR13. Lowballing weight is an unfortunate anime profile tradition and it never stops being irritating.

Misa also never grows roots, Light doesn't have beard growth... There is precedent for DN fudging hair, L's mane is safe and sound.

#unless you want him to have hair loss #In which case more power to you #answers

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animebw · 24 days

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Seasonal Reflection: Winter 2024 Anime

My feelings on the first anime season of 2024 can be summed up thusly: Most of my favorite shows from winter 2024 were continuations of shows that were already great from last season, not new entries. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and there were plenty of new anime I at least enjoyed watching. But it became clear about halfway through the season that aside from a couple fall 2023 holdovers, there was barely anything truly exciting going on here. Most of the adaptations I watched didn't do much to truly elevate their source material, and most of the few original series we got ended up the worst of the bunch. I can't say nothing good came out of winter 2024, but if this is any sign of how the rest of the year is gonna go, we may be in for a slog. For now, though, let's take stock of the anime I watched this season, and which ones are worth your time.

Metallic Rouge: 3/10

If you asked me what the worst show I finished this season would be at the start, I never would've guessed Metallic Rouge. I mean, it's a cool-ass original sci-fi anime from Bones with slick 2D mecha animation, surely that's gotta be at least a little cool, right? Sadly, no. Because this is, without question, one of the most baffling scripts I've ever seen in anime. Almost every single detail of its world and plot are barely explained, if at all, and the mechanics of what's even supposed to be going on are so nebulous that every attempt at a plot twist feels like a twist on something that never actually existed. Characters are plopped into the story without even an introduction. At times it feels like whole scenes have been cut out entirely. The only thing I can compare it to is the original Suicide Squad movie from 2016: a story so cut to the bone in the editing room that you can barely tell what's supposed to be happening half the time, and yet enough of the original story remains to suggest it was never any good in the first place. The one thing it gets right is the prickly chemistry between its two leads, and then it fucking keeps them separated for like half the damn runtime! How do you even unforced error that badly?

Bucchigiri: 3.5/10

Man, this was not a good season for original anime. Bucchigiri might not have been as staggering a writing trainwreck as Metallic Rouge, but its sin is arguably even worse; it's boring. It's a wacky, colorful high school delinquent romp with rainbow-haired Jojo's punks beating the snot out of each other with genie powers, it's sort of a re-imagining of Aladdin, it's got freaking Hiroko Utsumi at the helm, and it's boring. Why? Because this show gets absolutely stuck in the quicksand of its own status quo and refuses to budge an inch. Character growth is nonexistent, the protagonist is an aggravating loser wimp who never learns his lesson, and nothing of actual meaning happens from the first episode to the end. Literally everything you think is setting up a character arc where someone learns a lesson or grows as a person, all of it amounts to nothing. It's a limp, inert world that perpetuates the same overdone jokes and contrived, misunderstanding-based drama over and over again until all the outsized Utsumi visual personality feels like a tacky coat thrown on top of a lifeless corpse. What an utter waste.

Urusei Yatsura Season 2 (1st Cours): 5/10

I'm still not quite sure what to make of the Urusei Yatsura remake. is it charmingly dated? Annoyingly dated? A welcome throwback or a sign that some things should stay in the past? If nothing else, it never fails to get at least a couple chuckles out of me every episode. But the more it tries to lean into being actually sincere, the more its inherent cheesiness and lack of depth starts becoming a problem. I'm sorry, this cast of characters is just too abrasive and purposefully insane to take seriously, and none of their relationships are healthy enough to unironically root for. Lum and Ataru are not a couple I want to see actually get together, at least not unless Ataru stops being such a fucking shithead. And if him being a jackass could be charming in season 1, then this season is really starting to test my patience with him. It's one thing to be a serial skirt chaser, but his actions this season regularly cross a line from womanizing to unambiguous sex pest, and there's only so many wooden mallets he can get knocked over the head with before it stops feeling like like he's getting punished as much as he deserves to be.

Undead Unluck (2nd Cours): 5/10

Good news, everyone: Undead Unluck finally gave up on those awful groping gags that were ruining its central romance! Bad news: at the same time, it spontaneously developed one of the worst cases of recap padding I've ever seen! I'm not just talking overlong recap segments at the start of the episode, I'm talking constant flashbacks to events we just saw just moments before, straight up playing the same footage again just minutes apart, all climaxing in a truly unforgivable episode that spends seven goddamn minutes on recycled footage. Not even Tokyo Revengers was this bad with its time-wasting. And to add insult to injury, once it finally gets its feet unstuck and returns to a reasonable amount of recap for the final arc, it's probably the best arc of the entire show! It's some of the most bonkers high-concept emotional storytelling I've ever seen attempted, let alone pulled off so spectacularly. It's proof that there is so much brilliance to Undead Unluck, if it could just get out of its own way. But as long as it continues suffering from such massive systemic flaws, it's only ever going to be an also-ran.

Solo Leveling: 5.5/10

Okay, look; is this show dumb as a bag of rocks? Absolutely. Is it as nakedly an adolescent power fantasy as any anime has ever been? Ditto. Does it solely exist for dweeby incels to feel like swaggering douchebag chads getting revenge on all the normies who looked down on them by becoming The Bestest Strongest Chadliest Awesomest Of All Time? You know it. But god dammit, it's actually fun. I cannot pretend I'm too mature and sophisticated to enjoy a big, helping heaping of dumb edgy schlock when it's actually done well. I'm the one person on the face of the earth who still caries water for Akame ga Kill, for crying out loud. And Solo Leveling makes two really smart storytelling choices that keep it (mostly) on the entertaining side of dumb fun: building a genuinely interesting and intricate world that exists well beyond the scope of the protagonist's actions (for now, at least), and making sure that no matter how stupidly overpowered Jinwoo gets, his opponents are always just a little bit even more stupidly overpowered, so he's still pushed to his absolute breaking point and barely scraping together a win by the skin of his teeth every time. There is an art to edge that's too often taken for granted, and this show is proof that being the living embodiment of a twelve-year-old boy's wet dreams is no excuse not to be at least a decent version of that. That said, let's be real, Jinwoo was so much more attractive before his supposed glow-up. Give my boy back his scraggly rat locks, you cowards.

Bang Brave Bang Bravern: 6/10

What happens when a campy, cartoony 70s-style super robot anime crashes headfirst into a much grittier real robot anime? Well, what happens is Bang Brave Bang Bravern, the latest ten-car pileup of mismatched genres from the Cygames masterminds behind "What if horse racing but idols?" Take a desperate war story of survival against impossible odds, airdrop a skyscraper-sized superhero into the mix, and watch him completely shatter the original tone one cheekily ironic powerup and power-of-friendship speech at a time. It's a beautifully bonkers sendup of mecha tropes that has some of the funniest individual moments in this entire anime season, and the absolutely wild twist it pulls with the titular robot's identity in the back half is more than worth the price of admission on its own. Unfortunately, if it wanted to be as perfect a parody-until-it-isn't mecha series as Akiba Maid War was a parody-until-it-isn't mob flick, it probably should've tried being as long as most mecha series tend to be, i.e. more than just twelve measly episodes. There's just not enough time to develop any of the characters or world beyond the most essential parts, resulting in huge chunks of the supporting cast hanging around with nothing to do but take up space. And it leads to this show, which is trying to be so big and over the top, instead feeling so small and half-formed. Also, the secondary romance is gross. Like, really gross.

A Sign of Affection: 6/10

I think this show has helped clarify something for me: I'm really getting tired of how quickly modern romance anime get their main couple together. As much as we rag on the endless will-they-won't-they of ages past, taking so much time to build up the characters and their relationship before they finally make it official can result in some truly one-of-a-kind storytelling when done right. I might agonize over how long Sawako and Kuronoma take to get together in Kimi ni Todoke, but the payoff is so transcendent that none of those complaints matter. Whereas Yuki and Itsuomi getting together so quickly in A Sign of Affection... I mean, they're cute, I guess? His cool demeanor plays off her sincerity very well? But it feels like the show's in such a rush to get to the good stuff- and so determined to make Istuomi the dreamiest, most perfect boyfriend ever- that it skips over so much of the careful character-building that makes all the best anime romances so special. It's a sugary sweet confection, but wipe the frosting away and there's just not that much cake underneath. Honestly, I find the side characters a lot more interesting because they're allowed to have messy internal conflicts with a bit more meat on their bones. But hey, props for putting a deaf heroine at the center of your shoujo romance and taking so much time to explore how that affects the way she interacts with the world. That's a cause well worth celebrating.

Sengoku Youko: 6.5/10

Rejoice, everyone, we finally have an adaptation of a Satoshi Mizukami work that doesn't look like absolute garbage! After the flaming disaster that was Lucifer and the Biscuit Hammer's barely animated hackjob production, Sengoku Youko has arrived to give the cult fave manga artist a chance for his work to actually shine on the silver screen. As someone who only knows him through Planet With, I've always wondered if Mizukami deserved the reputation his manga gets, and with White Fox delivering as tight and intense a production as they gave Re:Zero, I guess it's time to finally find out. And the answer is... mostly? Like, the biggest problems in this sci-fi/feudal fantasy mashup are the characters being a little too eager to state the themes out loud and one pretty crummy death that's about as hamfisted and over-telegraphed as I've seen in a while. But there's a shockingly gripping narrative underlying it all, a story about the scars trauma leaves on people, of characters making bad decisions and facing real consequences for them, of hatred and poisonous ideology forced to reckon with the more complex reality of the world as a whole. And it all climaxes in an absolute barn-burner final episode that knocked my score up a half point all on its own. If future seasons can make good on all the potential this first season has set up, then I may just end up a Mizukami fan myself when all is said and done.

Blue Exorcist Season 3: 6.5/10

I'm of two minds about Blue Exorcist's second return after a six-year gap between seasons. On one hand, it's clear the new staff is just nowhere near as talented as the folks who first brought this series to life at A-1 Pictures. The action is abysmal, the storyboarding is clunky, and the animation feels like it's constantly fighting for its life to maintain a passable standard. And it sucks that a series that once brought such great life to its story is now held back by such a mediocre production. But on the other hand... holy fuck, am I glad Blue Exorcist is back. I once described The Devil is a Part-Timer as the mathematical average of anime as a concept, but if you were to ask me what the best possible version of that mathematical average looks like? It would be Blue Exorcist. This is, hands down, one of the best straightforward shonen action stories in the whole medium, a reminder of why all the most generic and overused tropes were once powerful enough to become generic and overused in the first place. It's proof that even the simplest of "superpowered teens kick demon butt with the power of friendship" concepts can result in a wonderful goddamn series when handled with good old-fashioned storytelling fundamentals. And not even the rough-as-hell production is enough to keep season 3 from delivering on the thrills, tears, laughs, and cheers that make this series so magical. Just, please, give the next season more time in the oven so it doesn't feel like it's wading through molasses to hit those heights. Okay?

Delicious in Dungeon (1st Cours): 7/10

Delicious in Dungeon's biggest problem is that it takes a while to really settle into itself. The opening scene of the protagonist's sister being devoured by a dragon sets the tone for an intense and desperate rescue mission, but the actual series that follows this harrowing opening is as lackadaisical as can be. And it's jarring to be thrust into a gag-filled, character-driven fantasy cooking comedy where the harsh tone of that opening scene and the ticking clock of Falin's digestion completely disappear from the characters' heads in favor of how beast to cook and eat the various fantasy monsters they encounter in the dungeon. Yes, it makes a little more sense once the mechanics of death and resurrection are explained later on, but it's a weird note to start on. Which is a shame, because once Delicious in Dungeon gets a handle on what kind of story it's trying to be, it's really fun! Its sense of deadpan comedy coupled with Trigger's expressive animation makes for some really unexpected gags, and the way it explores its fantasy cuisine is genuinely some of the most creative stuff I've ever seen in the cooking anime genre. Plus, with the dark tone coming back in at the end of the first cours- and landing much more naturally this time- I have high hopes for how this series will marry those two sides of itself moving forward. If the manga fans' reactions are any indication, I think we're in for a damn good time.

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (2nd Cours): 8/10

So remember in my last post how I said that it was kind of disappointing whenever Frieren turned into an action show because of how disconnected the fights were from the beating heart that makes this show so special? Well, apparently the writers heard me and decided what I meant was I wanted this peaceful, meditative tale about grief, change and the passage of time to turn into the goddamn Hunter Exams for ten episodes straight. It's one of the most shockingly ill-advised storytelling swerves I've seen in an otherwise good show, discarding all this series' strengths in favor of a half-baked tournament arc with tonally jarring grimdark elements and a bland, overstuffed cast of characters who only start becoming interesting in the rare moments they're allowed to stop slinging spells at each other and just, like, talk about life? You know, the stuff that Frieren's actually good at? Not this brainless slice of shonen envy that only avoids being a complete slog thanks to how spectacular the action is across the board? Ugh. Look, Frieren is officially the most beloved anime on the goddamn planet right now, and its best moments are so incredible that I wish I could join that chorus as well. But it's so disappointing to me that a show this singular and special has so often chosen to be the least interesting version of itself.

The Dangers in My Heart Season 2: 8.5/10

It's official: director Hiroaki Akagi is the master of middle school rom-coms. No other creator so perfectly grasps the specific blend of immaturity, awkwardness, cringe, and heart-on-sleeve sincerity that defines the love stories of early adolescence. That was already clear with his work on Teasing Master Takagi-san, but now that he's pulled it off twice, there's no room left for argument. And just like with Takagi-san, the second season of The Dangers in My Heart takes a show that was already shockingly good and catapults it into all-time greatness. This is a coming-of-age triumph, a soaring tribute to embracing your own cringeworthy self, flaws and all, and sharing that self openly with the people who matter most to you. Ichikawa's journey toward maturity, Yamada's journey toward self-love, and the way their romance sparks the best in both of them is the stuff that dreams are made of. I laughed, I cried, I squealed like a little girl, and I felt my heart grow three sizes by the time it was done. This is a new gold standard for anime rom-coms, and if you can stomach a bit of groanworthy fanservice, it more than deserves your attention.

The Apothecary Diaries (2nd Cours): 8.5/10

Most of the time when I cover a two-cours show on these seasonal reflections, I end up in a pretty different place by the end of the second cours than I did at the first. Either it sort of fell apart in the second half, or found its footing and took it to the next level, or it changed in some interesting way that affects how I view the show as a whole. But The Apothecary Diaries has stayed the course from the first episode all the way to the end. Start to finish, it's remained pretty much the same show, with the same ideas and attitude, exploring the same themes in the same ways. And you know what? When you're as good as The Apothecary Diaries ended up being, there's nothing wrong with that. This is a spectacular historical drama that builds such a rich, compelling world for its equally rich, compelling characters to inhabit. It's a powerful exploration of how old society treated the disadvantaged- women, poor people, people with all severities of disability- and how one deeply abnormal girl carves her way through this viper's den with her body and soul intact. It's the kind of mature, thoughtful series we so rarely seen done this well, and with the announcement of a season 2 already confirmed, we may well end up with close to 50 episodes when all is said and done. That, folks, is what a true shoujo/josei renaissance looks like. And I'm so happy such a deserving series is leading the way in reminding us how damn good women's stories can be when they're given a chance to shine this brightly.

DROPPED

Cherry Magic: Dropped at 2 episodes for looking like butt and the central romance feeling pretty lifeless.

High Card Season 2: Dropped at 1 episode because I realized I didn't care anymore.

Ninja Kamui: Dropped at 2 episodes for being dull tryhard edgy bullshit with overdone fight scenes that are impossible to follow.

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sharemarketinsider · 10 months

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Economic Factors and The Stock Market

#stock market #stock market crash #stock market news #economics #economic factors affecting stock market #macro economic factors in the stock market #macro economic factors at play in the stock market #how much economic factors affecting stock market #economic factors #stocks #stock market explained #the economics of the stock market #the economics of chinas stock market #stock market economics explained #factors affecting economic growth and development #market

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

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Got any Carrie Kelly headcanons? She is such an underrated Robin

For those of you who are new here, Carrie Kelley is technically the third Robin after Jason. She's had a couple of cameos across different universes (like as Damian's acting teacher), but the majority of her appearances are confined to Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns where she is a 13-year-old girl who takes up the Robin mantle herself after an aging Bruce returns to the vigilante scene. Her canon sucks, but since I'm out here butchering the batfam anyway, I might as well revamp her characterization.

In regards to her place in the batfam, I think 13-14 is a good age for her because it helps fill in the gap between Tim/Duke and Damian, plus it adds balance because the rest of the girls skew older and it gives her more room for growth. Also 13 is prime Chaotic Weird Girl age and Carrie would absolutely be one

And I know she was briefly Batgirl in canon but can we also revamp that? There's a Batgirl void that she can totally fill but canon is like unseasoned boiled brussels sprouts. In my mind she's Batgirl but with a better costume, different mindset, and keeps her fun and distinct firecracker slingshot

Every time she goes shopping with Alfred, she comes back with another candlestick. She's up to ten now and they're all sitting in her room, fire hazards waiting to happen

She volunteers to help with the kindergarten and she's really good with kids... when she's not acting like one herself. She comes home after the first day with finger paint all over her face

A carjacker tries to break into the Batmobile and she just walks up to them like "Excuse me that's not yours"

She always keeps the dictionary up on her phone in the unlikely event she needs to prove to someone that contranyms are thing

She knows exactly what certain words mean, but pretends she doesn't and uses them wrong in the family groupchat because she knows Bruce will ask, which forces the other batkids to not only explain what a malewife is, but also correct Carrie by demonstrating how to use it correctly

She remembers every Taylor Swift song by heart and she's not ashamed

"Any pool is a public pool if you have the initiative," she says before selling wristbands for Bruce's pool

She gets the pets their own phones so she and Damian can text them throughout the day

She asks Bruce before taking any money, but the way she frames it is weird. For example, she'll ask him for a hundred bucks to buy some video games because that's the market price only to get them for $20 at a garage sale and spend the rest at on a really expensive burger

She's one of the privileged few to come across a person buying 300 watermelons in real life

Her invitations to hang out are like "Wanna come over? We can watch a movie or clean the Batcave, whatever works"

Damian is the "don't eat meat" type of environmentalist, but Carrie is the "I'll spam you with sad turtle pictures so you'll recycle plastic" type of environmentalist

She stocks up on Teen Spirit deodorant so she can say she smells like Teen Spirit

Her makeup skills are... not good. Jason mistook her for a Joker sidekick

She also snuck into Jason's phone and hid one of his Robin pics in his profile

She clips her nails during Bruce's briefings

Carrie and Duke go to the bookstore and see who can find the most Written By A Male Author book

She drinks water with a dash of olive oil

At galas she wears suit tops with skirts and light-up Sketchers

Carrie also doesn't care too much about gender or pronouns. She has a "she/they" pin on her backpack, but that's only 'cause she found it on a bathroom floor and liked the color

Her favorite nap spot is Bruce's favorite chair. It's a huge plush armchair and she's small enough to pass off as a cushion, so Bruce always has to double-check before sitting down

Carrie can read cues in other relationships, but not her own. After Kon offers to refill Tim's drink she's like "ooh he likes you" but when a kid at school gives her flowers on Valentine's day she's like "I think they were just being friendly"

She's the only Robin not to have dentists ask about broken or missing teeth

At a sleepover, she and a few other kids catfished someone on Hinge using a terrible teacher's picture

Her drawing skills are pretty good (not Damian level though) and one time when Dick was sad she drew him as the Dreamworks crescent moon kid

She's friends with the old lady that shops at Trader Joe's the same time she does every week

She puts all her phone calls on speaker. ALL. OF. THEM

She goes to Canada on a short mission and promises to bring back souvenirs. She brings bagged milk

#carrie kelley #robin #batgirl #batfamily #batfam #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman #batman family #dc comics #headcanon

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gopher-jade · 1 year

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What endlessly frustrates me about the writing in the moon arc is that it is so focused on technobabble and philosophical arguments that it completely neglects what even made honkai such a good story in the first place - the masterful portrayal of the characters' emotions, struggles and growth.

We love Kiana because we saw and heard how she was a bratty kid, and then became depressed, and then slowly climbed out of that hellhole. Props to the translaters, the scriptwriters, the voice actors, the staff behind the CGs. Mei's arc was heart-rending also because we saw how crushed she was by Kiana's struggles. Seele in CG slamming her fist on the ground and crying to herself, "Move, you coward!" will always haunt me. Veliona seeming like a psychopath and being pit against Saule and then eventually reconciling was the best thing ever, because the team really did such a good job of making it really seem like Veliona might harm Seele, and then later of conveying just how much Veliona actually loved her.

What do we get of that kind of character-building in this arc? Basically nothing. The characters are so busy talking about the technicalities of Project Stigma that we don't really know how they feel about the whole thing apart from (stock action movie hero voice) "that is so despicable and we will stop you!"

Senti is thankfully an exception, because she doesn't bother engaging with conversation unless it directly affects her. And she's got the right idea!

imo, when it comes to storytelling, the worldbuilding only needs to be as coherent as is necessary for the emotional stakes to make sense. The writers have spent so much time trying to explain the tech to us that they completely forgot about establishing the emotional stakes. Anyone who's stuck around with Honkai this long knows that the worldbuilding doesn't really make sense. Things gets retconned all the time. Anything that doesn't make sense gets blamed on Fenghuang Down. The writers really don't need to spend so much time convincing us that the worldbuilding make sense. We already know, it doesn't, and we loved you anyway. Why did you stop doing what you were good at?

Another thing that takes time away from actually establishing the emotional stakes is the philosophising. Okay, so most of the world is going to die and be reborn as a new entity that isn't really them. But the characters we love are mostly spared from that fate, so why should we care? I know this might make me sound heartless, but I only care about these fictional nameless people because the characters I love care about them. These nameless masses are fictional. I don't care. I can't even tell if the protags even care about these masses outside of an abstract "killing people bad" ideology. I don't know if it's because I haven't cleared the chapter yet (the writing is just that boring; the trio just met Kevin). But after hours of gameplay, the trio have never displayed any emotion outside of mere disapproval. The kind I might have when I go "wow that person has such a shit take on things, but I'll just live and let live". What are they even fighting for?

Granted, I do think the philosophical arguments are interesting and I'm not saying that there shouldn't be any in Honkai at all. But I can only enjoy it to a certain point, and it's not even done well here. We don't get to see any of the protagonists actually engaging with the philosophical argument. From what I can tell, it's just "Project Stigma is the only way some semblance of humanity can live past Finality" "Okay but CE isn't as driven into the corner as PE, can you let us try our things first before you effectively kill all of us?"

That's not a conversation. There's literally no emotional grappling with the fear that maybe, maybe Kevin is right and they will really fail, and that if they miss this chance then all of humanity really will be doomed.

Not to mention that we already covered this philosophical argument with the Kolosten arc. "Do a small group of elite, powerful people have the right to decide the fates of the masses, even when they've arguably already made it a good deal for them?" The answer is no, not when the timeline and form in which they existed would no longer exist, and when they didn't even consent to it. We got it! We had to go through that long arc to reach the moon arc! We got it! Can we move on to the character arcs now?

#honkai impact #honkai impact 3rd #rant #moon arc #theres literally!!! no emotional connection in this damned arc at all!#the VAs are doing their best but theyve got nothing to work with!#mimin talks

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anonymousboxcar · 5 months

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RWS Stanley Time: Museum Edition

In my posts about my Moving Forward AU, I’ve talked a lot about Stanley on the SKR. So here’s tidbits about his life at the museum!

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-Stanley pulls visitor trains around the museum grounds. He doesn’t like being an indoor exhibit, but he can manage being stationary if visitors see him in his shed with the doors open.

-The museum primarily uses him as an example of a trench engine, educating its visitors about trench railways. As part of his job, he’ll explain his class and his WWI service to visitors.

-If guests ask about his MSR days, he’ll wince. But he’ll still talk about them. It’s important for people to know how railways used to treat their engines, even if it’s difficult to talk about.

-Stanley also shares embarrassing stories about the MSR management. Is it petty? Yes.

-Does he delight anyways in generations of children knowing That Time Manager Fell in a Scummy Pond Trying to Catch His Hat? Yes.

-It can be difficult for him to discuss WWI, too. But unlike the MSR management, he respected and befriended the soldiers. Those young men never left him behind. He wants to make sure people remember them — and what they endured.

-On Remembrance Day, he wears his wartime livery. He also pulls replicas of the rolling stock he hauled in the trenches. He tells guests about names and faces, about in-jokes and tragedies.

-For the most part, Stanley gets along well with the visitors. He’s still a little rough around the edges, but he’s a smooth runner and he’s patient while answering questions…

-…unless you’re rude to him, other engines, or other guests. Then he’ll make a game out of telling you off without violating museum policy about “professional language.” And he’s very creative.

-He credits Neil with teaching him how to interact with visitors. In fact, Neil showed him the ropes of museum life in general.

-In return for helping him adjust, Stanley covers Neil’s work during Skarloey’s visits so he can spend more time with him.

-Because he goes back and forth between the SKR and the museum, Stanley is popular with the museum’s full-time residents. They crave information about “the outside,” hounding him for news and gossip.

-He spills the tea during a weekly occasion: To practice for his poker nights with Duke, Skarloey, and Rheneas, he teaches the museum engines how to play. One of the coffeepots is his star protégé.

-But there’s one person with whom Stanley isn’t popular — George.

-I don’t have any justification for how it happens, but I like to think George winds up at the museum after his company retires him. He demonstrates how little sense he learned when he tries to razz other “has-been, useless” engines in front of Stanley.

-George says he’s only being honest. Stanley snaps back that since George is out of service, he’s describing himself, too.

-George hates Stanley for this. He either tries to goad him or sulks whenever he goes by. For his part, Stanley manages not to waste too much time needling him.

-However, others notice that if anyone else tries to trash-talk Stanley, George shuts it down with the insistence that only he gets to do that. It’s up for debate if this is a sign of character growth or not. Stanley, who learned the value of hope, spares a little bit for George.

#ttte #rws #the railway series #ttte au #rws au #moving forward au #rws stanley #ttte neil #rws neil #ttte george #my au

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manicrouge · 3 months

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Chapter One: The Cloaked Woman

[ᴋʏʟᴇ ɢᴀʀʀɪᴄᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] || [ᴛʜᴇ (ʀᴜꜱᴛʏ) ꜱᴡɪɴɢ ꜱᴇᴛ]

[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 14/02/23

[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: You've read your local library out of stock, fortunately for you, you've found an old book which strikes both your interest and your heart.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 6k

[ᴄᴡ]: Detailed discussion of death, suicidal ideation (sort of), small depiction of injuries (nothing major), blood.

[ᴀ/ɴ]: Happy valentines day !! Initially this was going to be a short story but I've fallen in love with this idea and I really wanna make it a series so- here we are !! This is the first part of it and I hope you enjoy it !! I must mention that this is technically an alternate universe but not really (it will make sense in the end)- so that's something. Aside from that, I hope you enjoy it and I can't wait to do the new part !!

Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!

In the depths of the night, you find comfort in your plush bed, alone.

Some typically detest loneliness, that explains why their bed never ever gets a chance to air our before they have a new body sleeping next to their’s. You couldn’t do that, although you have debated it, the thought in the end only really has your head spinning and you’re unable to really contemplate such an idea.

Sometimes, loneliness is good for the soul- good for self growth.

You affirm to such a basic belief as during your time alone, you’ve found yourself in the strangest of people, and your desire to see yourself in other’s faces has wavered. In that moment, as you’re cosied up in the warmth of your covers, protected from the Winter air, you’re assured in your choices and enjoying your time to yourself ad you’re sitting and reading one of the books you found in the library earlier today.

You tug at the rugged cover, your brows knitting together as you note that the back of the leather is flaking and it appears oddly dishevelled. It’s old. You acknowledged such when you pulled it off of the shelf and dusted it off. Admittedly, your habit of reading has resulted in your small town’s library being full with words you have already seen and there are only so many times that you can pluck out An Ode to Serelia before you tire of reading the same words; no matter how much you attempt to wish away the reality of the situation, you can never truly escape her fate. And you suppose in the end, you’ll never be able to run from the fate awaiting you either. Sometimes, when you close your eyes that, your heart-rate spikes and you find a sickness twisting your stomach as you contemplate the very foundation of what it means to be human.

You’re doing it now, in fact.

Staring numbly at the pages of the book, you find the sickness you have grown grimly accompanied with slowly clawing its way up your throat. There’s little that soothes it, you’ve found your habit has wounded perfectly good days and you despise it with every inch of your being. Your body grows sickly warm and in an effort to subdue the burning of your body, you kick off the sheets, letting out a small gasp for air as your grip on the book in your hands tighten.

In some sort of effort to reinstate the fact that you’re still alive, you turn on your side to make a point to your body. I’m still here, you inwardly say, hoping all the organs inside hear you out. Perhaps they will, perhaps they won’t. Oddly, it’s their choice for when you go, and even though they’re a part of you, your resentment is in its prime as you understand that you will always be left to grapple with every little thing in your life, you’ll always have to be the one to ask the questions but never get the answers. It’s always been like this and you’re sure it’s never going to change because you don’t have the means to change it either.

Your head is pounding the longer you spend time pondering, and when you look at the alarm clock stationed on your nightstand, your breathing falters at the very fact that it’s midnight and you’re still yet to even dig into your book. It can wait for tomorrow, you know that, but the longer the flakes of aged leather dig into the tips of your fingers, the more the thudding of your heart in your ears is almost edging you to disregard your desire to sleep.

In the morning, you can huff and puff about the decision you’re making right now when you have to wake early and get ready for work, yet, for now, you choose to focus on the fact that you’re still alive and you have the free choice to stay up for as long as you wish all to indulge in some tale from the 1900s. And who would you be to turn your eyes away from such a fruitful opportunity? Your organs could fail tomorrow and then what? You would die a woman who will forever spend an eternity cursing herself for not being a little groggy when going into work in the morning, wishing she had just stayed awake and devoured the pages of the story the night before.

Fortunately for your interest, that’s not who you are.

Unfortunately for your sleep schedule, that’s exactly who you are.

So, you succumb to your desire and delve into the pages of the ancient story, ignoring the weariness of your mind and haziness in your ears. It’s a subtle buzz that fills your mind as you cover the first few pages. You familiarise yourself with the characters in the story, and the longer you read through, you find your lips pursing.

In the matter of five minutes, you’re already turning back to the front of the novel with the desire of understanding the perspective. Admittedly, in comparison, the words you have read in different books in the library, the printed text appears to be a little less than the standard. The perspective is littered with colloquialisms and the wording in some paragraphs is a tad stiff. You’ve never been one to judge, however, and you find a smile ghosting your lips as your brush over the first words on the first page- the words that begin the entirety of the story.

The rusty swing set in the city always caused loads of arguments.

There’s a charm to the words, and as you pinch the pages and turn it to the very beginning, your eyes can down a page marked as ‘INFORMATION’in the hopes of finding some form of explanation of what exactly this story is about- is it non-fiction, fiction? You suppose your blindness is being punished right now; you’ve read so much that you’ve resorted to solving a puzzle in order for a story to make sense. Of course, you can just turn and keep reading, but your curiosity is getting the better of you as you scour through the weathered information page in some form of hope that you can uncover something about this story. Yet, the longer you keep going over the same words, you find nothing detailing the terms of how the book was created, rather, just something boring describing the location of the publisher and the date. A small huff passes your lips as you turn the pages in defeat and continue to read on.

As a kid I never really knew what I wanted to be. It was something my mum used to always press me on I could never ever be without some stupid dream. I had to do something with my life because that’s what God put me here for. And a lot of the time when I was a kid I didn’t really have a purpose. I guess that’s just being a kid though. So when I first found that swing set, I thought I’d found my purpose. I had so much fun playing on it and me and the other kids used to play together on them as well. And I spent so much time in that little park that my mum used to get mad at me and I always used to argue with her and tell her that I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I didn’t listen to her cause I was better than that- I was a big boy. And I had that idea in my head since I was a little kid, so, when I got older, I guess I was just a handful to deal with. At least, that’s what my mum used to say about me. Recently, I’ve been thinking about it a lot too and I’ve really started to regret acting the way I did when I was a kid.

Following along with the story, you find an ache in your chest appearing as your eyes grow heavier thinking of the swing set the writer has mentioned in the store. It’s an odd thing to find value in, and when you were a child, you recall you found you never really searched for any form of meaning; you didn’t really get life until around the age of fourteen… well, that’s what you like to say anyway; the age of fourteen was when you first thought about death.

There and then, on that summers night in July, you were infected with the same sickness that has chased you into your twenties and you haven’t really been able to shake that feeling off. A blessing and a curse: to understand your humanity, yet to be burdened with the reality of what such means. You can’t imagine understanding the concept of having a meaning from such a young age and you presume the writer is discussing such from the perspective of a young child.

Hindsight offers different interpretations, however.

Looking back will never bring you the truth- perhaps that’s what the writers doing, you suppose. Although, you’re not quite sure. Your eyes grow heavier as you hold the book, yet, you persist despite the demand that you turn in for the night.

Ever since the war broke out in Europe life has been a little funny and I found out that there’s more to life than a stupid swing set- but I’ve known that for a while now; if I bitched about missing home to the Captain, I’d probably get laughed at. But I do miss it, I miss being a kid cause I wanna go back and make up for everything I did. I wanna go back in time just for a day and live without any worries you know? I know I’ve changed and if I went back there, I probably wouldn’t even know what to do.

I used to think writing was stupid, but since I wrote my mum a letter home, I found it made the thoughts in my mind go better- if that makes sense. Everything gets so loud sometimes and I don’t know what to do about it. Well, I didn’t for the first few weeks of training, but now it feels like everything makes sense because I’m putting them onto a page and just looking at them makes the fuzziness in my head better.

I wish I could draw cause I wanna go back to the park sometimes but the best I can do are two shitty sticks and six lines. That’s not enough to jog my memory of the place and I’m scared if I’m not able to go home for a while that I’m gonna forget what the place looks like and I don’t wanna do that cause really, that’s my home. I’d like to go there again sometime, and when I get home from the war I think that’s the first place that I’m gonna go. Who knows, I might meet someone here- it might be worth my time after all. But, I think that’s just me being selfish cause there’s a lot more going on right now and here I am wishing to find someone.

There’s a slight cheesiness to the narrative which makes your lips curl slightly as you begin to blink rapidly while the book in your hold wobbles. With a large sigh, in the midst of your sleepy state, you place the book down onto your mattress with a huff, reaching over with a tired yawn to reach for the dangling cord on your stained glass lamp settled at the side of your bed. With a firm tug, your room is coated in darkness.

Settling back into the crisp covers of your double bed, you lick your dry lips, hooking your hand under the pillow as you pull it down slightly before resting your head upon it. It’s with ease that your eyes close and you find the chords of sleep inwardly, playing a low tune to yourself as your other hand caresses the open page of the book laying in the short space at the side of yourself. Your fingers curl around the old edges of the pages as a smile settles on your face before you finally give into the demands of your body, permitting yourself to finally rest for the night.

—

When your eyes open again, you’re away from your bed with a set of eyes staring into your soul.

There’s a woman standing over you.

You can feel her looking down at you, although, when you lift your head up in an attempt to catch a glimpse of her face, you find it’s covered by a shadow as the hood of the cloak she is wearing covers the majority of her features, the only feature poking out being the very edge of her chin. The pair of you stand for a moment, absorbing each others presence. As you keep looking at her, you note her arm is moving closer and closer to you.

With a brooding strength, she captures your forearm and forces you through the forest.

All air is forced out of your lungs at the sudden movement and you’re tripping over your own feet in an effort to keep up with the sudden manic pace she has forced you into.

In an attempt to escape the woman’s hold as she continues to drag you, you attempt to keep her from taking you any further by digging your heels into the ground. Nothing stops her from getting her way however as her adamant nature plucks you right from out of the dirt just as a florists hand would upon spying a flower for their customer.

So, you succumb to the desire of the cloaked woman and allow her forceful nature to dictate where you go.

To try and quell the burning on your wrists, you decide to willingly follow her, yet, with the speed in which she is moving right now, it’s nearly impossible to match her. It’s as though you’re nothing more than an object to her; she’s pulling you like a stressed mum pulls a suitcase through the airport. You huff and puff behind her, staggering and stumbling as you push yourself to pick up the pace despite the burning in your calves and the closer you get, you find that the woman is grumbling to herself.

It’s quiet and her voice, from what you catch, seems as though it’s completely shredded.

‘Hello?’ you blurt, managing to break through the initial shock of such an encounter.

She continues to pull you through the forest, however, her rambles quell at the sound of your voice and you’re left in silence, the only sounds meeting your ears being the branches of the trees moving in the wind, your breaths, and the swishing of the grass below you. Sucking on your teeth, you nurse a brewing anger as the woman continues to drag you like a child does with their doll, handling you with such disregard, you’re wondering what you ever did to hurt her.

She begins to ramble to herself again as you approach a wall of trees, and much to your surprise, the shrubbery and branches blocking the surrounding area begin to snap and bend, and from the centre there forms a circle.

It slowly grows, more snaps filling your ears as they twist and bend, opening up for her like a set of arms would open to embrace a loved one. Once the gap in the tree line is big enough, her grip tightens on your arm again and she proceeds to pull you through without giving you much of a choice.

The further into the forest you get, the warmth of nature seemingly disappears in the blink of an eye as the branches of the trees slowly begin to shift. The sky darkens and you find yourself looking up at it all to catch sight of the branches resembling sets of decrepit hands- one you assume would belong to the deceased. You follow the direction in which they point as you find they all curve in the same direction.

At this point, you’re sure your feet are bleeding from the amount of sticks and stray stones you’ve tread on as she’s pulled you along with her, and as she pulls you in the direction that the branches are motioning toward, your eyes begin to water as a powerful gust of wind blows from a top of the hill, sweeping your hair which is sitting on your shoulders from off of them in one fair gust.

The woman remains unbothered.

Her hood remains atop her head, showing no signs of even budging and the white frock she is wearing remains in pristine condition. Meanwhile, you leer downwards to see that the green frock you have been adorned in has ripped at the bottom, most likely from the miles of the brambles and bushes you have been pulled through. The wind continues to blow fiercely and tears drip down your cheeks as you close your eyes hoping for some form of escape from such a peculiar nightmare. Your chest is tight, and for the first time in your life, you wish for death. You need something, something to pry you from this hell scape- something to get you out of this wicked witch’s hold. You’re blubbering under you breath as you sniffle, begging for something to take you away.

The wind settles.

You take a gasp of air as it does, your heart pounding against your chest as you look through bleary eyes at the golden light which brightens the world around you. The woman’s grip on your wrist vanishes as she proceeds up towards the hill where the light is located, and despite all the sirens in your head demanding you turn away from her, from the light, and rush in the opposite direction, you choose to remain right where the woman has left you.

You’re sure that anyone else would be running for the wind right now, but not you.

You watch onwards as the cloaked figure falls to the ground, crawling on their hands and knees up the hill, towards the light. She edges closer and closer before she stops just before the beaming light. She raises her hands above her head, twirling her wrists in a fluid motion. The more you focus, you note that her chin pokes out from the cloak which has covered her face and you catch a dip in her silhouette. Her mouth is open and she balls her fists. In the light you catch a rouge liquid dripping down her wrists, a few stray drops landing in her mouth.

You watch horrified at her actions, the light at the top of the hill beginning to flicker.

Your entire body aches as you hear the woman let out a crudely erotic moan as blood drips down her chin. Through the flickering light, you catch the scarlet marking her frock as she turns her head away from you, bringing her hands down to the ground. Lowering herself further down, she presses herself against the dirt and the sight she releases rattles your own chest. It’s as though she’s relieved- she’s seemingly achieved something.

Perhaps it was getting you here in one piece, but you’re unsure.

‘Follow it through to the other side. Seek what it is that makes you run and hide.’

Her voice is broken, destroyed- it’s barely legible. It’s as though she has spent the entirety of her life screaming and screaming without something to soothe her. In some way, despite the aching in your entire body, you find your heart aching as she points towards the light in front of her. You have little time to make a decision for yourself as your body is pushing you forward, up the incline and towards the woman laying on the ground.

Edging closer and closer, you find the light before you dulls the closer you get, allowing you to see just exactly what it is. It’s what you imagine a portal to look like. Broad, bold and in a spherical shape. With each step, you peer downwards to see the grass beneath you glows. Flowers blossom around your bleeding feet as you proceed forward, and as you grow closer and closer to the cloaked woman laying on the ground, you see her frame trembling.

Her sobs fill her ears and you will your body to stop for a moment so you can ask her if she is okay. But, you cannot open your mouth and speak; your legs are moving whether you like it or not. Much to your dismay, you’re forced away from the sobbing woman and towards the entrance of the portal.

You’re expecting to hear the woman following after you, but there’s nothing aside from her sobs. So, you turn your head to look behind you just to see the bloody woman still on the ground, only, this time, she is holding her hand up and pointing in the direction of the flickering light. Turning your head back, you take note of the structure. It’s similar to what she pulled you through before, only this time, you can’t see through to the other side.

Holding your hand out, the tips of your fingers sink into the golden light. It’s wet. Like some form of slime, and when you pull your fingers from out of it, theres a shimmering golden gloop on your fingers. You grimace at the sight and texture of it as you find yourself edging closer and closer to it.

Walking into it, you hear the sobbing of the woman’s breathing grow to the of a frantic pace. You continue to listen as she erupts in a ferocious mocking laugh. It’s too late now, you know it is as you’re unable to keep yourself from walking into the light, leaving the woman behind as you do so.

You come through the other side, thick strings of the golden goop coating you and the frock you have been adorned in.Your eyes are screwed shut as you lift your hands to wipe away the gunk in and around your eyes, flinging strings of snot like slime either side as your eyes finally open and you take a deep breath looking around.

The forest has altered, the greenness of the shrubbery in the surrounding area restored with the absence of the cloaked woman’s broken string of laughter. There’s a dull pain radiating from your feet as you step onto a bed of green grass, stiffly moving as the green fabric of your dress sticks to your legs. It’s thick and the fabric rubs against your thighs in an unappealing manner as you attempt to push through the horrific discomfort and press forward into the new land you’ve found yourself in.

The wind pushes the trees and theres a small, almost inaudible crash as they knock into each other. While it sends a chill up your spine, you seek comfort in finding an understanding that this new place is safe; the sky is blue and the darkness and cold of the last location has dissipated and you’re free to roam without the harsh grip on your wrist from the woman wearing a cloak.

There are bald patches in the grass and as you continue forward from the cocoon you appeared in, your heart warms with the golden rays of the sun shining down through the small holes in the trees. Your breathing settles and your chest raises and falls in quaint manner. It’s a relief to you, all the stress you’ve suffered has faded and you’re left in a subtle sense of harmony as the birds nestled in the trees sing you a song, mixing well with a faint squeaking you catch hidden behind a curtain of vines before you.

With furrowed eyebrows, you pursue the sound actively, moving quicker on your feet as you push forward. The coldness of the grass is a delightful feeling, soothing the ache with ease as you nearly bound forward in hopes of seeking what is making such a peculiar noise.

As you edge closer and closer, you reach your hand out before you, pushing a few of the vines to the side. Poking your head through the space you’ve made for yourself, you take your time to soak in the scene before you. Much to your surprise, you catch a man adorned in an odd uniform, his hands firmly grasping the chains of the swing he is sat upon, gently drifting from side to side as he looks down at something in his lap. You can’t quite make out what he is looking at; the mixture of slime from your hair is dripping down your forehead, clinging to your eyelashes, and such renders your sight slightly blurry.

Still, you narrow your eyes as you take in the sight of him. His skin is a rich, highlighted in a flattering manner by the rays of sun shining down on him. His jawline is sharp, jutted as he purses his lips. You soak in his clothing which resembles that of an wartime uniform… perhaps the First World War, although, truthfully, you remain unsure. The uniform is branded with a dusty brown colour, and there’s a hat perched upon his head, the lips of the hat keeping you from seeing his eyes as it forms a dense, thick shadow.

His entire body is bathed in sunlight which is pointed in his direction, and you feel your heart murmur at the sight of him sitting so peacefully, entertaining himself in this peculiar paradise you’ve found yourself nestled in. The nature around you seems to shift: the daisies hidden in the tall grass move to leer in your direction, the vines around you twist to hold your waist as you stand and stare at the man sitting on the swing. The swing set appears almost brand new, despite the creaking, the poles in the ground standing strong and sturdy, a charming gleam meeting your eye.

It’s as though it’s winking at you.

You stand and bear witness to the sight unfolding before you. As you push the vines further upwards with ease, the shrubbery surrounding you moulds to your hold, a buzz travelling through the stem. It’s similar to the buzzing of a swarm of bees, and you’re quick to drop the vine with a small gasp escaping you as you continue forward, your bare feet stepping on a branch. Wincing, your shoulders bunch up to the lobes of your ears and you screw your eyes shut.

If he didn’t hear you moving the vines, he has absolutely heard you now.

The squeal from the swing comes to a sudden stop and you slowly open your eyes to see the man looking directly at you. Swallowing deeply, you take a step back holding your hands out in an attempt to dissuade whatever harsh words you anticipate him having. You feel terrible for disturbing him amidst his comfort and can’t help but feel like you have destroyed everything about the paradise you have found yourself in. You throat tightens as you’re overcome with an emotion you can’t say you’ve ever felt. You can just about muster out a short breath as he grabs whatever is resting on his legs and disregards it, tossing it to the side. And then he finally looks at you.

Your eyes meet and you’re greeted with a warmth that has you feel as though you’re about to break out into hives and you can’t help but feel embarrassed at the state you’re in. His eyes twitch as he looks at you for the first time, you note how his eyes lids drop and his head tilts slightly. You know you look a mess, yet, there’s nothing conveying disgust, instead, he keeps a soft look in his eyes as he addresses you, holding his arm out to you as though he’s calming a frightened stray dog.

‘It’s alright,’ he firmly says, ‘sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, ‘have a habit of gettin’ stuck in my head.’

You stare blankly at him.

‘Where am I?’

‘Steadway Park,’ he confirms with a nod of his head as he slowly approaches you. ‘I used to love this place when I was a kid, you know?’

‘It’s quiet,’ you shortly respond, looking around.

Your arm is beginning to ache as you maintain your hold on the thick vines, yet, you feel like an intruder walking into a home you don’t own. And quite frankly, you know you don’t. He’s been here much longer than you have, you understand that from his attire and the sternness of his brow, yet, in the midst of all that maturity, the image of him settled upon the swing allows you to seek out some form of youth in him.

He doesn’t quite look tarnished by the uniform he’s dressed in.

‘Good place to come when the thoughts in my head get too loud,’ he answers.

Now, he’s standing in front of you, and he moves the vines to the side, gesturing you to step into the place he has had for so long. Up close, he’s much taller than you anticipated, although, his stature isn’t one you find yourself fearful of- in fact- you find your shadows meld well together. His gesture reminds you of that of a kind house guest who is allowing you into their private space, so, you step through, feeling a warmth beaming from the sun as you slowly pan around the surrounding area to grasp where exactly you have ended up.

‘I used to come here all the time when I was a kid- played a lot with me friends.’

‘Why did you stop?’

‘Thought I was too cool for it when I was a teen,’ he says with a short laugh, ‘I don’t know where that idea came from; I’d do anything’ to be back as a kid,’ he explains, and you catch him glancing down at the uniform he’s adorned in.

Wandering away from the entrance you appeared through, he lazily strolls back up to the swing set, placing his hand against the bar of it as he looks up to it. There’s a twinkle in his eyes which you find to be terribly endearing. And then he turns his head back to you, and this time, you feel his eyes scanning your frame as you stiffly stand under his analytic gaze, shivering as though you dove right into the arctic sea.

‘What happened to you?’ he asks.

‘I—‘ you begin, thinking back to moments before.

Only, as you tread the steps, your sore feet and the reason as to why you’re burdened with such damage has blurred. ‘Well, I was… I was walking and then I… I don’t know,’ you say. ‘I’m covered in this… goop, and I don’t know what happened,’ you say, looking down to note that the colour of gold has been replaced by grotesque redness.

Your eyes trail further up your arms and you look as though you have part-took in some sort of sick slaughter as the remnants of your fading past cling to you, congealing like blood in a scabbing wound. Taking a breath, you lift your head back to meet him.

‘I’m sorry,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t know what happened, and the more I think, the harder it’s getting to remember.’

His teeth are gleaming as he smiles at you, tucking a hand into his pocket whilst the other rubs his mouth. You catch him nodding to himself before he slowly approaches you, taking hold of you wrists as he pulls your arms gentle out in front of you. It’s a tender touch, one you’re sure he would offer to a lover, yet, here he is, offering you such a softness as a stranger. Pulling you forward, you willingly follow his steps as he moves you past the swings, shifting behind you. His chest is pressed against your wet back, and before you can open your eyes, his arm enters your rearview as he point in the direction that the sun is shining from.

A gasp escapes you as you stare out onto the lake stationed before you, it’s vastness nearly swallowing up the mountains beyond it as they cover the skyline. The water is as blue as the sky is, and sun has settled atop the water nicely.

‘The water there is clean,’ he informs, ‘you can drink from it an’ with every sip you’ll want more of it. It’s good for the soul- I reckon it could heal anythin’ if you fought hard enough.’

His voice rumbles through his chest, the vibrations carrying through your back as you feel him let out a breath.

‘I never noticed it when I came here- I don’t even think it’s a part of that park.’

‘Then what is it?’ you ask quietly, looking up at him.

‘I don’t know,’ he confesses, ‘wishful thinking, I guess.’

His comments leaves an uneasiness in your chest as you slowly begin to move towards it. He moves with you, not daring to let you out of his hold as you pushes forward with you as though you’re some form of precious cargo that is in need of protection. His commitment is striking, you note such personally as you move down a slight incline, stepping off of the grass onto damp sand. You shiver at the sudden coldness against your aching feet, letting out a breath of delight at the sensation as you feel his arms loosen around you.

‘You can clean yourself up here,’ he says, ‘wash the blood off of you.’

Your eyes dart down at the redness, finding your hands have grown tacky with the substance. You want to choke out an excuse, not wanting him to get the wrong idea of you. You look at him with wild eyes as he lowers himself onto the sand, taking a seat before you. The look in his eyes as he looks at you is knowing, as though his eyes have caught you before.

‘Are you sure?’

You can’t quite explain why you feel rude, but you do.

‘I’ll be right here if you need something,’ he says, ‘you’re safe here… with me.’

A smile strikes your face.

‘Thank you…’ your words fizzle out.

‘Private Garrick,’ he says, ‘people call me Gaz.’

‘Well, Gaz,’ you smile, peering over your shoulder at the water, ‘thank you.’

You catch yourself talking to the man as though you’ve known each other for years, and you offer him one more smile before you turn away from him, slowly walking into the water. It’s cold against your burning flesh and you raise your hand to your face, noting that your cheeks are burning up at the lingering words of the man sitting on the shore who is waiting for your return.

Your legs don’t stop, even when the water passes your waist, and you walk until your head is beneath the surface.

—

You awake with a crude gasp as you hear a loud thud, almost choking on your hair as you sharply inhale. Quickly sitting up, your eyes ache as you shift in your pyjamas. They’re sticking to your skin in a grotesque as sweat pours from your pores.

Grimacing, a yawn escapes you as the sun greets you through the crack in your curtains, almost blinding you as you turn your head to the side, finding the book you started last night is on the floor, laying with the next chapter open.

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