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frenchie-sottises · 4 years

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ADDICT Animation Thoughts.

HEY, WANNA LEARN DRUGS?

This is me not having doing one of these review sort of things in a while. I’m kinda swallowed in the love for the newest animation for Hazbin Hotel, so I’mma do a review on it.

Yeah, I’m talking about the whole music video for the song “ADDICT”. Yes, it’s a song I freaking LOVE and will probably sing it to the ceilings for the rest of the week.

I actually had no clue there was an animation being produced for this song. I thought it was a good fan song and it was just gonna be left like that, but no, the person, and team, decided to make a video for it.

Okay, first off, can I just gush over how much I freaking love this thumbnail?? It’s done by Arielle Somerville, and even though this doesn’t have Cherri included, who takes up the second verse and I’ll talk about that in the minute, she definitely gets the message across that this video, and song, is mostly about Angel himself. I especially love the reflection on the pole, showing Valentino, who showed his face in the comic that’s supposed to be a prequel to the actual pilot. I also love the expression on Angel’s face. To me, it spells utter hatred for Valentino, and why shouldn’t he?

I’m sure most people who like Hazbin Hotel have seen this vid, so I don’t think I need to put a spoiler warning. Instead of explaining what happens in the video, I will break down the actual song and what comes to mind when I hear the lyrics and see the imagery.

Til death do us part, but we're already past that phase. This is a brand new start, and I think I deserve some praise

I will forever love this shot.

for the way that I am. Despite having overdosed, and ending up comatose.

I don't give a damn, I've let my emotions go- Fuck being a sober hoe.

The first verse is fairly clear about what happened to him before and after he died. Angel states with the whole “Till death, do us part” that now that he’s in Hell, he’s starting anew. He then further states that he should “deserve some praise” for the way he is despite the fact he “overdosed” and “ending up comatose”. While it IS confirmed that Angel died via PCP overdose, PCP can cause anything from organ shutdown (lungs and kidneys specifically) to seizures and coma. It’s not exactly clear what specifically killed him, but if I had to guess: organ shutdown. Specifically respiratory arrest since the oxygen is crucial for sustaining the brain.

He then, like typical Angel Dust, sings about not giving a damn, which makes sense since cause, y’know, it’s Angel. He claims to have let his emotions go and “fuck being a sober hoe.” PCP is.. odd when it comes to the psychological effects of it. PCP can block NMDA receptors, which are responsible for pain sensations, memory function, learning, and yes, even emotions. However, it can also cause anything from euphoria and calmness to anxiety and violence depending on how much is taken and who is using it. I’m not an expert, so I don’t know what’s specifically causing such contradicting results. (If someone does know PCP back to front, I’m giving you the shot to put your two cents in.)

This is the mantra, this is my life you're playing with now til the end of the night. Surrounded by fire, the passion ignites, a hit of that heaven and hell, a helluva high!

We then hit the bridge. Angel walks towards the moth in the thumbnail named “Valentino”, and yes, I got plenty to say about him later, and tells him he’s playing with Angel’s life “til the end of the night.” I don’t exactly know what he means by this since Valentino is Angel’s boss and we all know it’s not some one-time thing. He then sings about being “surrounded by fire” as “the passion ignites” and “a hit of that heaven and hell.” Heaven and Hell, huh? I believe he, himself, knows of its effects. (I’m not calling him stupid/oblivious, but sometimes the effects of these sort of drugs tend to be underestimated when it comes to what they can actually do.)

I'm addicted to the madness. This hotel is my Atlantis. We're forever gonna have a fucking reason to sin. Let me leave my soul to burn and I'll be breathing it in. I'm addicted to the feeling. Getting higher than the ceiling. And we're never gonna want this fucking feeling to end. Just concede and give in to your inner demons again.

Angel, along with Cherri, sings about how he’s “addicted to the madness.” I mean, he did have a casual conversation while happily killing Sir Pentious’s minions. He then makes a reference to the lost city of Atlantis, a city that was said to be inhabited by people who were half-man/half-god and created a utopian civilization.. basically the hotel is an “oasis” of sorts to flee from his current situation. Of course, being in a place called Hell, he states how there will always be a reason to sin and that he’ll leave his soul to burn and breathe it in. I mean, it’s Hell, you can’t fault him for thinking that, and, if you know a thing or two about Hell, once you’re there, have fun getting out, so you might as well leave your soul to burn and breathe it in. Of course, Hell is a lot uglier than this, but we’re talking fictional characters here, so there’s gonna be some rule bending.

He then repeats the first line of the chorus, but it’s slightly altered. He’s “addicted to the feeling” and “getting higher than the ceiling”, which is probably referring to the drugs again cause, well, you know. Of course, like how drug abusers become drug abusers, he doesn’t want this “feeling to end”, so he takes more angel dust to keep this feeling going. He then says to “concede and give in to your inner demons again.” Concede means to “admit after resisting or denying”, so Angel, at some point, was resisting, or denying, the situation he was in, but after either fighting it/denying it for so long, before or after death, he accepted that he’s fucked up and gave in to his inner demons.

I also love this shot.

After a few seconds of awesome music, Cherri gets her time to shine.

Yeah you fell in love, but you fell deeper in this pit. While death rains from above, so count your blessings cause this is it.

You're not letting it go, so what if I misbehave? It's what everybody craves.

You already know, so come if you're feeling brave, and fancy yourself a mate.

Cherri seems to have suffered an abusive relationship before as she seems to use past tense for whoever she’s referring to. "Yeah, you fell in love, but you fell deeper in this pit.” Whatever it was, it’s not something that can be made up for. She then says “While death rains from above, so count your blessings cause this is it.” I don’t exactly know what she means by this. Technically, they’re both dead and in Hell, so I don’t think whoever this man is has had his soul destroyed.. mainly because of what she says later. However, as death does what death does best, she’s telling him to count his blessings as this is it. I don’t know what she means as we don’t actually know that much about Cherri to begin with, so it’s more of a hit or miss kind of game in this playing field. She doesn’t seem to have any grudges against him, or at least doesn’t act like she does. I know somewhere down the line that our “protagonists” will have to face their problems, but I’m not sure what Cherri has in store for a man she seemingly got over.

However, it may be over for her, but she states that it isn’t for him by telling him that he’s “not letting it go.” She continues by asking “so what if I misbehave?” and then following that up with “It’s what everybody craves.” She makes it seem like he couldn’t handle her overly energetic attitude. It may also suggest that Cherri, along with her use of bombs and how much she seems to love blowing up shit, may be emotionally unstable. While yes, she may be kind and friendly to Angel, but he’s just a friend, I don’t think he’s anything more.

It doesn’t stop there though, whatever it is, she tells him he already knows, so come if he’s feeling brave and fancy himself a mate. Mate is often referring to a lover, but could also mean friend or someone for a one-night stand. Again, since we don’t know much about her, these lines could mean anything.

You want it? I got it! See what you like? We could have it all by the end of the night! Your money and power.. my sinful delight! A hit of that heaven and hell, a helluva high!

The bridge doesn’t do much in terms of explaining what’s happened to Cherri. While yes, it’s definitely explaining something, we don’t know what that something is. We can only guess at the moment.

Cherri tells whoever this man is that if he wants it, she’s got it. She then teases him with “See what you like? We could have it all by the end of the night!” The whole “end of the night” has now been said on both sides. It could mean about the similar situations between them. Heck, it might be why they’re friends to begin with. Nothing brings people together more than having similar experiences.

Then, and I don’t know if this is me, Cherri’s voice seems to tone down slightly when saying, “Your money and power” before kicking it back up with her smiling and saying, “my sinful delight!” The animation may support this as everything tones down, except the music, as if she’s reminiscing. She then follows it up with the line that leads into the chorus. As far as I know, she isn’t taking drugs, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be addicted to certain habits. *cough, cough* Blowing shit up. *cough, cough*

We then hit the chorus again. The chorus before introduced Cherri into the video, but now it’s being sung by both on the same stage and in the same building: the same one Cherri decides to blow up as they both sing about their respective situations. There isn’t much to this other than the fact that it feels more of a wrap up on explaining their current states.

Of course, those who have listened to the VIP version knows there was an extra verse sung by Angel, which was included at the end of the video.

I'm addicted to the sorrow when the buzz ends by tomorrow. There's another rush of poison flowing into my veins, giving me a dose of pleasure that resides by the pain.

I'm addicted, I'm dependent. Looking awesome, feeling helpless. And I know I'm raising Cain by every highway in hell. Maybe things won't be so terrible inside this hotel.

I.. don’t know where to begin with this. I had to go back several times because there’s just so much detail in every scene. Everything from seeing Travis getting kicked in the face to the cigarette that Angel threw in the ash tray looking like a heart.

I think I’ll start with what I think might be going on.

Angel, more than likely, is still in an abusive relationship with Valentino, who I will ramble about in a few. I’ve seen a few who’ve said that he isn’t, but I don’t think he managed to break it just like that. He is the one who told the audience to give in to their inner demons after all.

As far as Cherri goes? She’s become an addict to her own habit of blowing stuff up for fun. While yes, she’s seen blowing stuff up that is about/for Valentino, with a habit that’s become an addiction, I don’t think it’s gonna be very specific.

Of course, I could be very wrong about Cherri. She is seen blowing up a sign that literally says “ADDICT.”

So maybe she has broken an addiction of hers and is stronger than I give her credit for. Maybe that’s also why she’s coming to the hotel, cause she also said the hotel is her Atlantis, so it’s probably a hint that she’s gonna be added later.

Speaking of Cherri...

I love her solely for this.

While they aren’t exactly ideal people, they are, almost, ideal friends. Whenever one struggles, the other comes to help. Angel helped Cherri fight off Pentious while Cherri is here comforting Angel as he goes through his abusive relationship with Valentino. (She also helps with, again, blowing up anything that belongs/is for Valentino. Ridding imagery of an abuser will bring some ease to the victim’s life.) I say “almost” as they don’t go about it in the tamest of ways.. though I understand why people would come to defend what Cherri did. If nothing stops them from fighting and taking land, then nothing would stop Cherri blowing up a billboard or two, especially if it’s Valentino.

I think it’s time I’ve rambled about Valentino and the relationship he and Angel have, SO HUGE WARNING, this is gonna mention sexual assault/rape.

Valentino... I know I’m right when I say that just about everyone in the Hazbin Hotel fandom absolutely hates this fucker.

I can’t tell you how many people have made jokes about it already. Who wouldn’t hate him? I can tell you right here, right now, that moths, because he’s a moth, are my favorite insects. They’re fluffy, amazing to look at, and can make for some nice character designs. However, I have not once found myself being fond of Valentino. He has a great design, but that’s about it. He may not be real, but I’d strangle him too for not respecting Angel’s boundaries.

who

the fuck

aRE YOU

TO DO THIS??

My god, it doesn’t even stop here. This was pretty tame. I have a feeling not many know what was actually shown in the mirror when Angel was in his room.

Yeah, I don’t need to tell ya. I mean, I hope that’s not what’s happening, but Valentino IS one of many of the overlords of Hell, so who knows how twisted he is. It looks like he’s just holding him in place and just glaring at him through the mirror as he probably monologues about some bull about Angel being his and whatnot, but this is Hell and tame can just go out the window.. that and Valentino is literally fucking drooling.

As a final note, I’m pretty hyped for whatever Vivzie and her crew have in store for this series. I’ve seen the pilot, I’ve read the comic, and now I’ve seen the music video, all have been great.

I can’t really guess on where Vivzie’s gonna go with this whole story. I’ve always learned that Hell is an inescapable place, so I’d expect that Hazbin Hotel will be about Charlie hoping to rehabilitate people to go to Heaven only to find out that there’s no way out. Maybe it’ll be about how Hell doesn’t have to be some horrible place for nothing but pain, but a place to finally try and fix your problems so they don’t control you in the afterlife.

However, Hell has one issue: the overpopulation and extermination. It’s why Charlie opened up the hotel to begin with, so maybe the plot is far more clear cut. It is a fictional world. Technically the Hell most people think of is nothing really like this. It’s just an eternal fire pit where you’ll suffer physical pain over and over. However, Vivzie’s take on it is far more abstract. It seems Hell is where you’re put into situations you wouldn’t want to be in. Angel seems to want love and have fun, but is instead stuck with someone abusive and what he finds fun has been turned into work, both of which he hates.

In the end, I’m really loving Hazbin Hotel’s story as a whole. I love the fact Angel got some more depth to him. I’m looking forward to what’s in store for Cherri and the others.

P.S.: You wanna know the irony to this? I love moths, but most spiders I hate. However, I’m here hating Valentino, a moth, while having a fondness for Angel, a spider.

I’ve never had something like this happen to me before and it’s one of many reason why I love Hazbin Hotel.

#Frenchie Rambles #Hazbin Hotel #Angel Dust #Cherri Bomb #Valentino #Frenchie Screenies

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aros001 · 3 years

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First time read through light novel vol. 18. Random thoughts.

I somewhat suspect the author was hungry while writing this volume.

Also, wow, I knew Kizuna was short but the prior artworks never gave me the full idea of how short. She

is only chest-high compared to Naofumi and Glass (I suppose that could make Glass happy, though; ease of access for Kizuna and whatnot).

Given that, outside of the natural gluttons like Filo, S’yne, and the killer whale sisters, the only person on Naofumi's side with the "Eat food for EXP" matter is Itsuki, I think this is him falling dangerously close to thinking only in terms of game mechanics instead of reality, much like the other three heroes had been early on. Theoretically, yes, if you can gain levels and strength just by eating, why wouldn't you do a lot of it? But he's almost outright ignoring the physical discomfort and pain it's causing his allies and seeing only the numbers. Not to mention that he himself doesn't appear to be eating nearly as much, as he's focus on the cooking.

That said, it is cute that this is the first time in her life Filo is starting to feel full.

Chapter One: Sloth

OH SHI-! Oh, wait. Wrong franchise. We're good. I did not want to have to imagine Kizuna biting her fingers off (Kizuna: "My brain trembles!!!).

If Kizuna is indeed suffering under the curse of Sloth, I'm curious what triggered that specific sin for her. We only have the four heroes of Raphtalia's world to go off of but each sin applied to that specific hero for a reason. Naofumi: Wrath because of his hatred of what Witch and Trash put him through. Ren: Greed because he wanted more EXP, levels, and loot; a toxic extreme of his solo-adventuring. Itsuki: Pride because he believed only in his view of justice. And Motoyasu: lust and envy because of his obsession with Filo and being kept away from her. Kizuna's obsession with fishing, even when there's other important matters that need to be dealt with, I suppose could be considered lazy and thus lead to sloth as its extreme, but it feels a little bit like a stretch.

As he did so, the books from a nearby shelf whirled up into the air, forming . . . a dinosaur . . . perhaps. No, a dragon. The monster’s name was “Magical Tome Dragon.” Now things were really getting a bit crazy. A dragon created from books! Was this some kind of joke?

I want a Yu-Gi-Oh card of that.

“Don’t tell me, Glass is like the Raphtalia of this world? Could we really get that lucky?”

I mean, that's what the fandom likes to joke when it comes to her and Kizuna.

Breaking the sloth curse through Kizuna's love of fishing was about what I expected. Not complaining, of course. Again though, I'm just wonder what about her coincides with Sloth. She prefers talking it out and making allies as opposed to fighting but I wouldn't exactly call that lazy or slothful either.

Kizuna had a lot of folks like this among her allies—people who had started out as enemies but then became allies. If I fought someone as an enemy, there was generally no coming back—there were exceptions, like Sadeena and Shildina, so it was probably better not to generalize.

Glass and L'Arc are literally standing right next to Naofumi as he thinks this and Motoyasu, Ren, and Itsuki all tried to murder him at one point or another. S'yne was part of the gladiator fights too, now that I think about it, and while they never fought he and Trash were definitely enemies for a while. This dude turns more enemies into friends than freakin' Naruto. Being kind of oblivious is part of Naofumi's character but I suppose this could be seen as an interesting look as to how exactly he considers someone an enemy. If they fought him for reasons he eventually came to understand and sympathize with, then he perhaps doesn't consider them as ever having been a "true" enemy.

Aww, Glass is jealous of Tsugumi being close to Kizuna. And unlike Raphtalia with Naofumi, Kizuna doesn't have any kind of tragedy that keeps her opposed to relationship and would require Glass to be patient. I suppose Glass could simply be afraid of hurting their friendship by proposing romance or even that Kizuna doesn't swing that way. And this is from Naofumi's perspective, so Glass being gay could be completely off the mark. Still, it'd be nice to get a solid landing one way or another. Even Eclair unknowingly rejecting Ren at least give solid confirmation that he's into her and why they're not together.

“What! I’m the Hunting Hero! I don’t handle the cooking part!” Kizuna complained.

“And I’m the Shield Hero!” I retorted. Not the Stewpot Hero! If anyone called me that, I would kill them with cookery!

And technically, you're not even that right now. Not with that mirror on your arm. The mirror is cool and all but I am looking forward to Naofumi eventually getting his shield back. He just feels incomplete without it.

“Almost feeding time!” one of them said. Others proceeded to chime in.

“Yes . . . the time we’ve all been waiting for.”

“The moment we live for, basically!”

“Even if I only get to eat one mouthful . . . that is the fuel that will keep me alive!”

“I’ll never eat anything but his cooking ever again!”

“I think the schweiz is the best! It has to be!”

“No! The stietz!”

“Hey! No fighting! We’ve been warned about fighting!”

Did they stumble across a food cult?

“It isn’t bad,” Filo said. “It just isn’t as nice as yours, Master.”

“Well, okay . . .” I replied.

“All of the heroes have cooked in the village, Mr. Naofumi, but Filo and everyone else all feel the same way,” Raphtalia told me.

Filo also grew up with Naofumi's cooking since birth, so while he's already a good cook you get the added taste of home for her. I've said it before but out of everyone I consider Filo to be the most like Naofumi's daughter.

“Then you wish to settle the bill,” she replied. I thought it was free. As my suspicions intensified, the girl spread both of her hands and continued. “How was the food at Seya’s restaurant? It was so delicious, wasn’t it? If you wish to become a member, please leave all of your assets or hand over anything that can be turned into money. If you leave some personal items as collateral, you can have some time to go and fetch some offerings.”

Yep, that's a cult alright.

“Master’s food!” Filo said.

“They’ll get a surprise when they taste what you’re cooking, kiddo,” L’Arc said.

“Indeed. Your victory is assured, if that’s the best they can do,” Glass agreed. I was still concerned about how aggressive they were being. Were they hopped up on endorphins or something? They weren’t acting in character at all.

My first thought was that the OOC behavior was some side effect Naofumi didn't realize came with the Mirror weapon's power-up method, but then why wouldn't Raphtalia or Kizuna be effected when they have been eating the food too? Then I thought maybe they were more used to eating Naofumi's food in general and would have a tolerance to any addictive effects, but then why is Filo still effected?

“That’s the best dish Seya’s restaurant has to offer! Seya’s curry bag! And it’s Fifth Floor too!” one of the MCs shouted. I barely stopped myself from tipping over onto the ground. He really was just reheating a premade curry in a bag! So he was allowed to heat and serve already finished dishes? I mean, that might give me some ideas myself . . .

“The flavors that are normally lost in reheating have been sealed in the bag using proprietary technology! Now you get the maximized flavor from the moment you open the bag! This truly is the ultimate culinary technique! Everyone, watch this kitchen miracle closely as it unfolds before your astounded eyes!” The MCs continued their diatribe, but it just made it harder for me to keep a straight face. It was all a matter of perspective. Capturing the flavor in a bag was certainly a worse approach than making it on the spot.

“Naofumi . . . am I imagining things? It looks to me like he’s just adding or warming up instant ingredients using hot water,” Kizuna said.

So, like most other antagonists in this series lately, Seya is just an arrogant, entitled fraud high on his own stolen power. Why am I not surprised? Though he is giving me a bit of a Kazuma from Konosuba vibe with how he managed to figure out how to recreate items the old heroes would have talked about from Japan. It's odd to say he doesn't have nearly the same level of charisma as Kazuma give...well...it's Kazuma and he's deliberately written to be a massive scumbag.

I do like with his magic powers and awesome cape, Naofumi is basically the little muddy boy meeting a superhero, one who will save the day through cooking.

As for Kizuna . . . I handed her some of the fish we had brought in and had her cut it up. She’d finished with the poisonous fish already. Her life as a fishing fool was paying off now. She knew her way around a fish. The blood had been skillfully drained, and overall, she was a step ahead when it came to gutting and cleaning.

...You think the Hunting Tool can turn into something like the Wunder Boner

I explained pointedly, looking at Seya, Trash III, and the other MC. Trash III responded by flipping me off. I could taunt with the best of them, and I mouthed some swear words back.

I mean, one of my favorite scenes in Isekai Quartet was Naofumi and Shalltear sassing each other, so I can agree with that.

“Pollution?” Kizuna asked, looking puzzled.

“You didn’t notice that?” I replied. “Well, just watch.” She wasn’t the brightest bulb, that was for sure.

“Hmmm, I think I need to go wash up,” the rotund noble said. “I’ll be right back.” The judges proceeded to take turns visiting the washroom. Once they had all returned, it was time to eat Seya’s food.

“Huh?” Kizuna, L’Arc, and Therese were looking puzzled. The other diners around us too. I guess there was cause for a little suspicion.

...Did Naofumi give them laxatives?

“Ah!” Kizuna finally cottoned on. “So that’s why you used so many medicinal herbs in your dishes!”

“Exactly. The reason they all wanted to go to the washroom after eating was to expel the toxins. I also used other herbs to bolster the lethargic feeling that would bring on,” I explained.

He gave the judges f**king laxatives! That's hilarious! I get the actual explanation he gives is more complicated than that, relating to purifying and digestion and getting them to finally take notice of the toxins in Seya's food now that they're free from its hold, but it's funny to think that's basically what he did. He won a cooking competition through dishes that encouraged the judges to take a sh*t (or a p*ss, I suppose).

“Hey . . . you’ve been reading too many cooking manga. It’s an illusion that delicious and good things will be evaluated highly. What you need is popularity and demand,” I said. Of course, it had to taste good, but putting the emphasis on that as a bare requirement was also a problem. If you were planning on selling food in a restaurant, of course it had to taste good. Customers came because of other elements, because of popularity. If Seya’s restaurant collapsed here, it would cause trouble for all the judges. That was why I’d created an escape for them. In order to realize the future that boy wanted.

While we don't see Naofumi selling his wares so much anymore because he has far less of a need to, it is nice we do still get that cynical and merchant side of him. All that time didn't just go to waste and it's still a key part of his character.

“What, then? What do you want?” Seya asked.

“There’s someone behind all of this, correct? Someone pulling the strings. If you tell us all about that, we’ll let you go. Hey, I have an idea. Write it down on this piece of paper here. I want a record of this.” I said and passed a piece of paper to him. Seya’s expression immediately brightened.

“That’s all you want? Fine, I can—” But the rest of that sentence vanished into an awful grunt. The moment Seya tried to write a single word, his head simply crumpled in on itself. He managed a brief scream, and then his entire melon exploded. I didn’t want to traumatize my allies, so I quickly threw up a cage and blocked out the grisly scene. Then I gave a sigh.

Well...that was kind of f**ked up for Naofumi to do. Don't get me wrong, after what they had to do to get Takt to be willing to confess, this is much less horrific. But Naofumi did basically just give Seya false hope and then trick him into executing himself. I get why he did it and how dangerous the vanguards are, but it is interesting to think that while ROTSH isn't the darkest of the light novel series I've been reading, Naofumi, save for Ainz Ooal Gown, is definitely the most morally grey of the protagonists compared to Kazuma, Subaru, and Goblin Slayer.

“No matter how delicious the food is, if you eat the same thing every time, you’ll start to get sick of it. Once you get sick of it, you won’t overeat simply because you won’t want to. I’ve been applying that concept to my food,”

That is better than what I was thinking with Naofumi getting too into the game mechanics. And boy do I feel for his friends. It's the same thing that killed me off of soda for a few years. Obviously it's worse to starve than be overstuffed but it's still not a pleasant experience.

We were talking about the primary reason why Kizuna was summoned here in the first place. To put it simply, the idea was to revive the Demon Dragon.

YYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

And they Tanya'd him too; reborn as an infant of the opposite gender. So does that make Kizuna or Naofumi Being X?

“Seriously . . . it brings dragon tears to my dragon eyes to see you, the great Shield Hero who defeated me, now reduced to this.” The Demon Dragon placed her front paws against her head and muttered sadly to herself.

“I hope you aren’t looking for sympathy,” I said harshly.

“Just think about it for a moment. The same bunch who shouted about defeating me and saving the world are now back, having screwed everything up, relying on me—their sworn enemy—to save them! Take a look around. Does this world look like it’s at peace to you? Well?” the dragon said, really coming for me now. What was worse, I didn’t really have a reply. This world was still plagued by humans fighting each other and had been ravaged by the vanguards of the waves. Everything the dragon had said so far had been so on the money that Kizuna and Glass probably didn’t have any response either. “Can you see how this might feel like something from your own past? Having been chased as a criminal, and then having to clean up after those very weaklings who were chasing you after they had been beaten down by the waves and people from another world?” That punch really landed hard. I wanted to call it a low blow, but she was basically providing a stunningly succinct summary of my life in these other worlds.

Seriously though, after Kyo, Takt, and the various other vanguards, it is so refreshing to have a villain who speaks with some dignity and can actually make a decent point or two, rather than "I'm strong so I can do whatever I want! Losers!" In my vol. 16 random thoughts I compared Takt to All For One from My Hero Academia and I still feel the same way. The two are not that much different goal-wise. They wanted the world and had the power to make it theirs, thus their actions. It is an immature goal when you think about it but AFO did not act anywhere near as immature as Takt and it made him feel so much more intimating. He would sometimes mock his enemy but when he did they were deep cuts that he knew would get under the skin of someone he truly hated, like All Might, rather than just throwing out insults and acting like a brat. And the Demon Dragon is the same (the High Priest too, now that I remember him, even if I don't talk about him as much). I liked Glass as an antagonist because she was intimidating, spoke only as much as she needed to, and was very powerful compared to the protagonists at that time, getting Naofumi to fear facing her again and giving her weight to the story and for the audience. Finding out later her motivations gave her some depth and added grey to the situation. The Demon Dragon is not nearly as sympathetic, but he still works for a lot of the reasons she did. There's presence to him, er, her. It's not a brat who needs to be knocked off their high horse but a genuine threat.

And being able to work with the heroes weirdly makes that even better. The Demon Dragon calls a 100 year truce, not because she's on the side of good, but because she wants there to still be a world around for her to take over. She's completely open about her goal, which ironically makes it easier to trust her.

“That should do for now,” the dragon said. “Hmmm, and this is a female body. Excellent. Shield Hero, under the condition that you will ultimately mate with me, I shall provide even greater cooperation.” So that was how long it took for things to take a crazy turn.

Still a little weird that she wants to f**k Naofumi though. And when the anime gets to this part there is almost definitely going to be a fanfic or doujin. Actually, now that I think about it, there are going to be creators getting some mileage out of when the Demon Dragon tried to take Naofumi over earlier in the series.

“Can’t you make do with Kizuna? She’s one of the four holies from this world. You’ll just have to overcome the gender barrier,” I said.

“Why me?!” Kizuna exclaimed.

“What are you planning on doing to Kizuna?” Now Glass turned a hostile gaze on me too.

Ahh, Naofumi's such a d*ck, I love it. Also, now that's two rivals in one book for Glass. She's almost caught up with Raphtalia.

It would have suited us better if the enemy was a bunch of morons. It was annoying that life never worked out quite so easily. We had no idea how bad it was going to get with the waves, so we had to plan our moves carefully and move to prevent this “fusion of the worlds,” whatever that meant.

Wouldn't that be a heck of a comeback to my bitching about the villains? The ones behind the vanguards have been sending out their idiots first, the ones arrogant and drunk off their power, to soften up the heroes first and cause a bunch of damage but that they know will ultimately just get killed. Takt and the others getting offered up as sacrificial lambs basically because those like S'yne's sister don't like them either.

“I’m starting to feel sorry for Naofumi,” Kizuna agreed.

“He probably thinks you two are in the ‘harem,’” I told them.

“I really don’t like that,” Glass responded. “No, I don’t. I don’t like that at all.” I wasn’t sure why she said it three times, but I didn’t like it either. Just for the record.

“Naofumi is a friend and a comrade, but we’re not like that!” Kizuna retorted. I wondered if she really understood the situation. She was the type who needed things to be said directly to her face.

“A shame we don’t have Fohl here. Even L’Arc would have worked,” I said. Just a few guys mixed in might have broken the group up a bit and prevented it from looking like a harem.

“Naofumi . . . even if we did have some guys, it would probably just give them some different ideas. Like . . . boys love?” Kizuna said. It sounded like, whatever the composition of the party, they would presume a lewd relationship with me at the center.

You know, you never hear about this kind of thing with Ren and Itsuki. Motoyasu went out of his way to have a harem and he still doesn't get it thrown at him as much as Naofumi does. Maybe it's one of those "He protest too much" kind of mindsets, where the more Naofumi denies it the more people think it's true.

“You got lucky. If a wave had occurred with the world of our illustrious leader, we were planning on shattering you. That’s the problem with this system; that’s the only way to get the reward for destroying a world,” the sister explained. I’d heard this talk about rewards for destroying worlds before, I vaguely recalled. I had no idea where that reward came from.

So there's a third world mixed up in all this. Obviously there already was the implication of multiple universes with S'yne and such but now there's a big spotlight on somewhere besides Raphtalia and Kizuna's worlds, where the big bad supposedly lives.

“That’s pretty much what I was expecting. Shield Hero, let me tell you something interesting,” the Demon Dragon began. Then she looked at the Artificial Behemoth’s chest again. “That part there houses a corrupted holy weapon from this world, which has artificially turned the monster into one of the four holy heroes and has allowed it all the power-up methods. It’s basically the monster version of a holy hero.”

I'm somewhat suspecting it's the Blunt Force Holy Weapon, given how easily that beast is smashing through barriers.

The soul that Raphtalia had pulled from the vanguard of the waves was not much like the body it had come from. Instead, it was a gloomy, Japanese-looking guy who was probably in his thirties.

...

“The vanguards of the waves are people who have been reborn or transferred over here after being selected by the one who assumes the name of God. They are given all sorts of abilities, such as the power to steal holy weapons or seven star weapons. They come into these worlds and start causing chaos,” I explained.

“Reborn? You mean like having spare bodies, like Kyo?” Raphtalia asked.

“No, something else. Just their souls were led to this world from Japan, and then they were reborn here as someone from this world. With their memories of the past,” I said. For example, they are people who died in unfortunate accidents—people like Ren, Itsuki, and Motoyasu. This “god” would whisper to them that they had died an untimely death and offer to reincarnate them in any world they liked. They were already dead and so had no reason to reject such an offer. If they did, the “god” probably claimed to be taken with their resolve and promised to give them additional cheat powers, basically forcing them to accept. In some cases, maybe they were just forced to be reborn, no matter what they felt. I’d read books like that, loads of them. Now that they knew being summoned to another world was actually a thing, why not getting reborn or transferred over?

So I was right about Takt being some OC f**kboy! They're all OCs! They're people from Japan who died and now are getting to live out their sh*tty power fantasy fanfiction as their equally sh*tty original character! As a source of useful but disposable minions, that's actually kind of brilliant. We saw how bad Motoyasu, Ren, and Itsuki had been at the beginning (with Naofumi himself potentially on that path as well before he was betrayed) and they were chosen by weapons that actually have the world's best interest at heart. Take those same people and have a malevolent entity constantly feeding their egos and pushing them to do terrible things because "it's their right to do so" and "they're the real heroes" and you've got an near endless source of wrenches to throw into the works of those trying to stop you.

Of course, now I just have this image in my head that the World Eater is Aqua from Konosuba. Which would actually be kind of amazing, not gonna lie. A godly being reincarnating otakus from Japan into a new fantasy-based world for a singular purpose and giving them special powers and tools in exchange.

“What if . . . and just hear me out . . . what if this one who assumes the name of a god is somehow responsible for my game knowledge?” Itsuki quietly suggested. That sounded possible to me now. Even if being summoned was the correct process, having some prior knowledge would change your actions once you arrived.

Before, when the Shield Spirit had explained to Naofumi that he was a first pick choice and the other three heroes were their weapons' third picks, I'd theorized as to why and how the final selection ended up. Assuming the weapons were telling the truth about being able to grant any wish once the waves were over, it could be assumed they have some power over reality even in the four's home universe. So I'd theorized the weapons set up a window to snag their picks, with the shield getting Naofumi and the other weapons, by sheer unfortunance, had their picks keep missing the window and thus they became more desperate, thus why their third picks had to die in order to reincarnate because the weapons couldn't leave things to chance anymore.

Now, with the new speculation and info, we can assume the World Eater has some influence over other universes too, including the heroes' original ones. So two new theories come to mind.

The first, and one I find most likely, is that the World Eater is causing video games that are similar to the worlds impacted by the waves to appear in the original worlds of the heroes. In theory, the butterfly effect could cause a chain of events that'd lead to such games existing, so it's not like the World Eater is just dropping them into each reality. It would just need to nudge things in the right direction. If video game knowledge is actually detrimental to the heroes, then that leaves less choices for the Holy Weapons (at least in regards to what their ideal candidates would be) and opens up more choices for the World Eater, since it wants arrogant and know-it-alls like that for vanguards.

The second, which could still work with the first, is that the World Eater is aware of humans the Holy Weapons have their eyes on and is actively sabotaging them. A weapon has a first choice, so the World Eater throws the game or other things in their path to turn them into a less desirable option, possibly even vanguard material.

After all my comments about the recent antagonists, S'yne's sister is starting to grow on me. She's filling a similar role as Witch; manipulating and using people before ultimately tossing them aside. But like the Demon Dragon and High Priest, there is more of an air of dignity about her than with Witch. With the exception of her sister, she's not really talking down and belittling anyone to try and promote her own strength. Like Glass she feels like someone who is genuinely powerful and doesn't need to prove it. How she's using the enemies of the week is curious and perhaps even a little scary because it does feel like she's testing and experimenting and these losses are not really a loss for her. And there's the added mystery Sadeena threw in over what she really wants. Whether bad guy with a bigger agenda or a secret good guy, she's more enjoyable to read about, as opposed to the vanguards where the biggest enjoyment they offer is watching them get taken down, and even that's not much with all the whining and tantrums they have after they're beaten. She's different from Witch and Kyo. She's not completely high off her own power and doesn't refuse to recognize her enemies' strength. Her casually teleporting away for a bit when she realized the battle was turning in the heroes' favor gave a ton to her character.

I'm just looking forward to when she gets a name other than S'yne's sister or Moron Woman. I appreciate Naofumi's completely lack of caring for learning the names of people who don't deserve it, but if she's going to be a serious antagonist or secret ally, a name would help.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/shieldbro/comments/kdwai7/first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_18_random/

#rising of the shield hero #random thoughts #reddit repost

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ash-rabbit · 3 years

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An Autopsy: Mag200 Last Words

I will preface this by saying that, one (1) this is my opinion, and that I am at best ambivalent towards Martin and Jmart. And that this influenced the emotional impact of the episode for me, and likely many other viewers.

Additionally, I don't have a transcript open so we're going off memory. And spoilers below, obviously.

I. Everything that I wanted to see

1. Jonah

I'm very glad he showed back up and was coherent. That was definitely a highlight since bastard he may be, but he's my favourite.

I would have liked to hear him monologue or give a statement, but I don't mind Jon cutting things short. It's deserved, and I'm sure Jon was sick to death of Magnus' voice anyway.

I really liked how his last words were so very scared and vulnerable. "I don't want to die." and then Jon's retort of "Neither did they" before going through with it was excellent.

Being the vessel for the eye being like a wonderful dream was also very good, because I can only imagine that it would be similar to Jon's nightmare walking for someone who actually enjoys the suffering of others.

Something that was odd was that I could swear that it contradicts 193, where Jonah was referred to as nothing but a husk when serving as the eyes conduit. I had thought that meant his sense of self had been eradicated and he was nothing but his eyes for all intents and purposes. Clearly not. So I suppose all those fics where Elias survives and is aware of everything after Jonah gets gouged out of his skull are still plausible, seeing as Jonah still remained, even after being crushed beneath the weight of his eldritch patron.

2. Jon doing his own thing

I said this after 198 and 199, but I though the Web's plan was dumb, and everyone completely misunderstood the Trolley Problem, because just like the average Tumblr user, the Archival assistants are illiterate. But I suppose that happens when you have two influencers, a cop, and a high school drop out debate ethics. I'm just saying Tim with his anthropology degree would have called bullshit on their moralizing, he might not have disagreed with that plan of action, but he wouldn't have tried to justify it.

3. Jon going through with the 193 plan

Technically a merger of point 1 and 2, but it had Jon having a completely decent plan for once. It worked for the most part, it was cathartic and wholly satisfying to watch for him as a character.

As stated in 193 the conduit position is meant for him, so he doesn't suffer any ill effects outside of becoming a bird in a gilded cage, but he already spent the series as that. And it wasn't as if Jon hadn't been acting as a conduit with the constant statement taking anyway.

3.b a late addition to this but why does Jon need to keep taking statements?? It feels entirely superfluous in a fear saturated landscape, unless it was the Eye really wanting that Archivist pupil.

II. What Didn't Hit, or the Deflated Souffle

1. Jon and Martin

Hinging the emotional weight of a finale on a couple doesn't work if you don't have any feelings invested in the couple. I didn't care for Martin from the moment we were introduced to him in Season 1, and my interest to become invested in Martin was ignited and subsequently extinguished within Season 4. I find Martin hypocritical and self righteous and it's a bad mix for me personally. I didn't like his character trajectory over Season 5, so Jmart did nothing for me across the Season.

The misquote of LotR also just doesn't do it for me. It's sort of romanticizing the whole Romeo + Juliet thing, which is always not good. I think being unable to live for Jon undercuts any growth Martin could have gone through since in season 4 he was running a suicide gambit, and I think if he had been able to live as a person at the end of it, he would have come out a stronger character.

2. The Knife in the Gut

So Jon went through with his actually good plan, and Martin acts like its the worst possible thing. Jon is mostly himself, more himself then across Season 5 for the most part actually. But it's treated like the worst betrayal, and then Martin has the gall to go "we expected this so we're burning the Archives at this very second"

Like okay?? You're mad he went behind his back, even though everything previously stated had your plan set up to fail from the get go. It just made me irritated at Martin for being short sighted.

Worse then that was how quickly Jon caved to Martin and saying fine kill me and go through with your plan. And then Martin did it. They condemned countless dimensions because when Martin show sup and say anything contrary to Jon, Jon's spine disappears. It defeated the purpose of Jon going behind their backs in the first place. Though I'm glad Martin wasn't there when Jon spoke to Jonah.

I think the damnation of countless realities should have been framed as a tragedy, and not as the heroic thing. So I guess it's just fridge horror now. The framing just, it really doesn't work for me here, I was horrified by the moral ramifications and how it's the one thing Jon didn't want to do, to have more people face the same horrors he had.

3. The Archives are Burning: One of the Best Paying Academic Institute's is in flames.

So Jon was called the Archive by Jonah, and it never felt like that meant anything. We don't know if the burning Archive affecting Jon was because he's the Archive or if it's because burning knowledge hurts him as burning Gerry's page did.

Also I'm just against the burning of centuries of knowledge in general, that was probably the part of the episode that hurt. Cursed or not, the Magnus Institute seems to have incredibly pay for a research institute of all things, I mean a flat in London and it can pay for a care home? I know biology researchers who make around minimum wage at best. I'm just saying, I would work there despite everything the series has laid out.

4. The Girls Started a Fire

I don't mind that they survived, but they blew up a gasline?? And survived, no Helen to save them, but they survived.

It's weird.

5. Back to Business as Usual

So they ejected all the fears into other universes and everything is back to normal. But I have questions!! How are people's state of mind?? Are some people catatonic from constantly experiencing constant fear? The Admiral is fine which is great but, there's so much mental scarring that even with a fix it band aid slapped on, the whole population is mentally fractured at best. I don't have the words to elucidate, but it bothers me.

In Sum

The finale didn't hurt me. Which in and of itself hurts. I signed up for a tragedy/horror, and it felt like the romance shift undercut a lot of character growth and impact. But that's because I don't like who Jon and Martin are when they're together, and that's a normal thing to fell around new/codependent couples.

I was hoping for something that was soul crushing for the characters, but death isn't really the worst fate, and I suppose it's grim if only because they made the selfish choice. Which is weird, for Jon at least, he stopped making selfish choices after Season 2 for the most part and was punished every time he did something that was necessary for his continued survival in Season 4. I have thoughts on the statement dependency being a food thing more then an addiction thing but I'm ending it here.

The series is good, but I'll probably just relisten to S1-4 only, I don't care for romance or apocalypse settings, and 160 is a good stopping point if you want a soft tragedy of sorts.

#Mag 200 #the magnus archives #tma #mag 200 last words

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astudyinfreewill · 4 years

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tbh i get queer fans being mad/sad about kavinsky being killed off in that yeah, bury your guys can always be upsetting no matter the character. but it's weird to me when people go the 'he didn't DESERVE it blah blah' route because like, that has nothing to do with the trope. like i agree with queer characters always getting killed off being exhausting, but i don't get people going hard for this particular character lmao

hmm i… sort of agree. i guess i can understand fans being sad about kavinsky being killed off if they empathise with him, even though personally i just… can’t imagine relating to a character like that. but i honestly, genuinely don’t believe he’s an example of Bury Your Gays. it would be BYG if kavinsky was the only queer rep in the books, or even he killed himself specifically for being gay… which, no matter what people argue, he didn’t. but rather than give my opinion on it, i’m gonna take this chance to go through the trope systematically and explain why the shoe doesn’t fit. it’s meta time!

Why Kavinsky Dying is Not “Bury Your Gays”

[All quotes are taken directly from TvTropes, though the emphasis is mine.]

The Bury Your Gays trope in media, including all its variants, is a homophobic cliché. It is the presentation of deaths of LGBT characters where these characters are nominally able to be viewed as more expendable than their heteronormative counterparts. In this way, the death is treated as exceptional in its circumstances. In aggregate, queer characters are more likely to die than straight characters. Indeed, it may be because they seem to have less purpose compared to straight characters, or that the supposed natural conclusion of their story is an early death.

Kavinsky is never viewed as “more expendable than his heteronormative counterparts”. If you see Kavinsky as simply Ronan’s foil, then the reasoning doesn’t apply, because Ronan is gay himself, so he can’t be a “heteronormative counterpart”. However, Kavinsky apologists like to latch on to Gansey’s “We matter” quote to prove Kavinsky is treated as unimportant – but that’s a fallacy for several reasons. First, you’re taking Gansey to speak for the author, or for objective truth, when Gansey is one of the most unreliable narrators in the book, and his world view is extremely biased. Secondly, Gansey isn’t Kavinsky’s counterpart. Kavinsky is an antagonist, so you have to look at what happens to the other antagonists – his actual heteronormative counterparts. And, well: they pretty much ALL get killed off. Not just that, but they often get killed off in a way that does not have the emotional/narrative impact implied in Kavinsky’s death. By that reckoning, he gets the better shake. Additionally, we get 4 heteronormative villains killed off - Whelk, Neeve, Colin, and Piper. So in the series, queer characters are not more likely to die than straight characters (even among the protagonists, Gansey and Noah are the ones who “die”, where Ronan and Adam do not).

The reasons for this trope have evolved somewhat over the years. For a good while, it was because the Depraved Homosexual trope and its ilk pretty much limited portrayals of explicitly gay characters to villainous characters, or at least characters who weren’t given much respect by the narrative. This, conversely, meant that most of them would either die or be punished by the end.

This is not applicable to TRC, as portrayals of explicitly queer characters are not limited to villainous characters; Adam and Ronan are both explicitly queer and they are treated with huge amounts of respect by the narrative. So Kavinsky isn’t being killed for being the odd one out/the Token Evil Queer; plus, there are other reasons why he doesn’t fit the Depraved Homosexual trope (while sexual molestation is a part of this trope, TVTropes encourages you to “think of whether he’d be any different if he wasn’t gay” – and Kavinsky wouldn’t. Not only because DHs are usually extremely camp while Kavinsky’s mannerisms aren’t particularly queer-coded, but also because he is not shown to have any more respect for women than he does for men, and his abuse would look the same if he was straight).

However, as sensitivity to gay people became more mainstream, this evolved into a sort of Rule-Abiding Rebel “love the sinner, hate the sin” attitude. You could have sympathetic queer characters, but they would still usually be “punished” for their queerness in some way so as to not anger more homophobic audiences, similar to how one might write a sympathetic drug addict but still show their addiction in a poor light.

Again: Neither Ronan nor Adam – the two sympathetic queer characters – are punished for being queer, hence subverting this form of the trope.

This then transitioned into the Too Good for This Sinful Earth narrative, where stories would tackle the subject of homophobia and then depict LGBT characters as suffering victims who die tragic deaths from an uncaring world. The AIDS crisis also contributed to this narrative, as the Tragic AIDS Story became its own archetype, popularized by films like Philadelphia.

Okay, this is DEFINITELY not Kavinsky’s case. Kavinsky’s death isn’t specifically connected to being gay (e.g.: a hate crime or an STD), and he’s never depicted as some innocent suffering victim. As for the “uncaring world”… eh. Kavinsky may not have a valid support system, but that’s just as much by choice as by chance - and when Ronan extends a helping hand and tries to save him, Kavinsky rejects it. Too Good For This Sinful Earth is definitely not in play.

The only trope that kind of fits the bill is Gayngst-Induced Suicide… but only on the surface. As TVTrope puts it, Gayngst-Induced Suicide is “when LGBT characters are Driven to Suicide because of their sexuality, either because of internalized homophobia (hating themselves) or experiencing a miserable life because of their “deviant” gender or sexuality: having to hide who they are, not finding a stable relationship, homophobia from other parties, etc.”. Kavinsky certainly has quite a bit of internalized homophobia, but he is absolutely not experiencing a miserable life because of his sexuality – i.e. he’s not being bullied or taunted or subejcted to hate crimes. He doesn’t have to hide who he is: his parents are effectively out of the picture, his cronies worship him, and he constantly makes gay jokes to Ronan and Gansey. As for “not finding a stable relationship”… well that’s not exactly the problem, is it. He’s not looking for a stable relationship – he’s pursuing Ronan specifically, obsessively, through stalking and abuse. So even this trope is not applicable.

And then there are the cases of But Not Too Gay or the Bait-and-Switch Lesbians, where creators manage to get the romance going but quickly avoid showing it in detail by killing off one of the relevant characters.

Once again this is not the case with Kavinsky, as 1) there was no romance going between him and Ronan, and 2) he is not killed off before the nature of his obsession with Ronan is revealed – he gets the chance to both admit (sort of) he wants Ronan, and to confront Ronan about his sexuality, to which Ronan admits that yes, he is gay, but he is not interested in Kavinsky. So, there is no But Not Too Gay nor any Bait-and-Switch here.

Also known as Dead Lesbian Syndrome, though that name has largely fallen out of use post-2015 and the media riots about overuse of the trope. And, as this public outcry restated, the problem isn’t merely that gay characters are killed off: the problem is the tendency that gay characters are killed off in a story full of mostly straight characters, or when the characters are killed off because they are gay.

This is a very good definition of the trope and why it doesn’t apply to Kavinsky: he’s not killed off because he’s gay, and he’s not killed off in a story full of mostly straight characters; TRC is definitely not overwhelmingly diverse, but 2 of the 4 protagonists are queer, giving us a solid 50% ratio (I’m not counting Noah because his “character” status is vague, and I’m not counting Henry because he came in so late, and also because his sexuality is the matter of much speculation).

For a comparison that will make it even clearer: take a show like Supernatural. Supernatural’s range of characters is almost entirely presented as straight white cis men (as of canon – despite much of the fandom’s hopes and speculation). They’ve had problems with diversity in general, with a lot of black characters dying immediately, and a lot of women getting fridged for plot advancement or male angst (a different problematic trope altogether). Now, apart from minor inconsequential cameos, Supernatural had ONE recurring gay character: Charlie Bradbury. And they killed her off for no discernible reason other than plot advancement and male angst, in a context that had elements of Too Good For This Sinful Earth (Charlie being a fan-favourite, ~pure cinnamon roll~, being killed by actual nazis, who historically targeted gay people). See, THAT was Bury Your Gays, AND Dead Lesbian Syndrome, AND Fridging…

However, sometimes gay characters die in fiction because, well, sometimes people die. There are many Anyone Can Die stories: barring explicit differences in the treatments of the gay and straight deaths in these, it’s not odd that the gay characters are dying. The occasional death of one in a Cast Full of Gay is unlikely to be notable, either.

…But that is not the case with TRC. As I’ve said above, there are no explicit differences in the treatments of the gay and straight villain deaths. Kavinsky’s death is not Bury Your Gays; it’s Anyone Can Die – even a protagonist’s foil who has magic powers and is present for most of the book.

Believe me, I would not be cavalier about this. As you rightly said, queer characters always getting killed off is exhausting, and as a bi woman myself, I am deeply affected by instances of Bury Your Gays. When Supernatural killed off Charlie, I wrote a novel-length fix-it fic and basically stopped watching the show – a show I had been following, flaws and all, for 10 years. I don’t take it lightly. But Kavinsky’s death isn’t Bury Your Gays, nor is it homophobia. Sometimes, a character death is just a character death.

#anonymous #answer #meta #trc #trc meta #tropes #joseph kavinsky #mp #my meta

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sageadrianwhite · 4 years

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***trigger warning possible***

With good news tho

So 2 weeks away as of this Saturday from 7 years clean!!! I've managed nearly for 7 years not to fall back on drugs & drinking. I've managed for almost 7 years not to starve myself either. I struggle in my 20's to not self harm, but always stop myself where I've maybe done one and realized stopping myself.

I've managed to get worlds better I remember being 19 an addict thinking I wouldn't see 21. I was almost right September 5th 2013 about a month before my 20th birthday. I nearly took my own life due to losing someone I loved, after I had found my one, when I had finally gotten free massive truma and the abuse of my ex. The guy I was with who was also my best friend in this world and was the one of the only reasons I was beating my addictions at the time. He was stood by me and pushing me for my best and to finally get better after a 5 year struggle to overcome the truma I've been though. I was the teen you hear about with a Micky or 2-6er taped under the bed frame. A stash of drugs hidden in a buildabear. The "rich kid" that couldn't handle the pressure of being the perfect Islamic daughter and live up to the perfect image keeping it all together spending lots on products and makeup to look not like an addict So my parents, friends and teachers didn't know. It doesn't make it easier when your abusive fiancee at the time gives you the option to be beaten or do the drugs or have your face forced in them and they have their way after.... I was a dumb 18 year old, but I'm the islamic culture not uncommon from 18-26 to marry.

It broke me when a boyfriend of mine died. It went two weeks no contact as of the night we said I love you the first time when he told me he had to pick up his drunk abusive father from the bar.......I told him to be careful and text me when hes home safe turns out he told his dad about us. His father was upset and enraged he was dating a girl who was 19 when he had just turned 18.... so his father grabbed the wheel jerking it. They hit a pole. He died on impact my then boyfriend. His father died 2 days later in hospital.

I found out two weeks later when his mom got into his Skype and called me saying shes glad she finally got in to his social media so she could let me know as he only knew his passwords.

That night My abusive ex found me when I went to the bar. I wanted to drown for a night the feeling of loss as it was the first true close loss I have had to deal with by then and was planning to then get back to sobriety the next day from finding out my boyfriend had died.

That night my abusive ex gave me drugs and convinced me to kill myself before leaving the bar with my ex best friend he cheated with. The fact he made me believe with the abuse, bullying, learning disabilities and mental illness I was the problem and believe I was better off dead due to being hammered and in a severe grieving state..

I don't remember anything after taking the drugs just waking up in my bed at home about 5 in the morning with a damp feeling all around my blanket and sheets, my room smelt coppery, my mouth tasted like a penny, but I was sitting up hugging my knees cold as hell. I felt the urge to pee so I got up fast not thinking and ran to the bathroom soon as I went past the mirror I saw the fact I was all bloody. I had unconsciously self harmed myself to the point I had 167 cuts on my body between my arms, ribs, thighs, ankles and hips. I felt dizzy looking at myself covered in blood trying to stop it. I lost conciousness and fell I hit my cheek on the way down which to this day causes me the odd facial pain due to if I had hit it any harder I would have broke the bone in my cheek and end up needing cosmetic surgery. I passed out waking up 20 mins later. I remember forcing myself to get up falling straight down to a near passout state lying there unable to move call for help or anything. I had still been bleeding and I had fading in and out consciousness at that point and somehow I heard his voice telling me "it isnt my time, I've got so much to do and this isnt where my story ends. I need to get up, I am meant for much better things than this and he better no be seeing me any time soon that when everything feels lost fight against all odds. Prove everyone wrong that you will see 25 and be something"

I somehow pushed myself up fading in and out of consciousness and stumbled bloody down the hall half using the wall and crawling till I managed to get my moms bedroom door open as I managed to grab her ankle and raspiley say "mom I need help I'm sorry"

I passed out again just as she sat up in shock looking at what I looked like last thing I remembered was the horror on her face and. When I came to my mom had saved my life and my little sister who was 13 was crying thinking she was gonna lose me. My mom she had stopped the bleeding, and made me throw up while unconscious to sober and get some of the drugs out which saved my life and she got me drinking wholy detox tea soon as I could drink and swallow plus some watermelon for the sugars.

After I spent 2 months with a massive black eye and healing cuts covering my body. That night I almost died and my mom saved my life on what would have been my little sister's first day of high school, September 5th 2013. I got help I joined therapy, I went to AA in secret till 5 months in when i had a routine, I went to NA for 4 months till I had a solid plan and was sober, started looking at programs for my mental illness and learning disorders. By 21 I had been a year an a month sober.

Now at 26 years old I've been almost 7 years sober as of September 5th 2020.

It will be 7 years sober and clean. I own my own business, I travel, I have my physical health for the first time in 10 years almost and I have the most loving, understanding, compassionate, sweet funny and kind guy possible

These days I couldn't be happier healthier and luckier to be here after what I went through life is too short to be filled with misery and hate and too short to waste being disillusioned by a fake happiness created by chemicals that arent good for you. I remember the monster I was and my lash outs and after seeing others addictions I know what I sadly put my loved ones through.

Please if you need help go seek it it's never too late because addiction is only ment to destroy you and everything you love so please don't let it win and get help

I don't post much besides the odd photo of myself here and there on my tumblr, but too many people I've cared about in my life I've lost them to drugs, I almost lost myself 7 years ago. I've had people who did drugs and turned abusive or into a monster losing themselves in the process of thinking they are medicating their issues like I did. So please if you suffer go get help it may be an underlying reason of why you have addiction mine is due to BPD (Boraderline personally disorder) which also has its issues with impulse control.

Just please get help its never to late to get treatment. Please do not wait till you get where I was. To this day I still deal with lasting effects from being a addict in my formative teen years. Odd stomach pains, not often hungry, a valve issue better my kidneys and bladder, facial pain from the fall and some digestive issues, plus old injuries that didnt heal right due I medicated for because I couldn't lose my sports or music & theater. Addiction is no joke please get help before if destroys you and everything you hold dear to you.

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rosesandrorys · 4 years

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✧･ﾟ( demeter + alexa demie + cis female ) 𝒎𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒂 !! have you seen ( veronica “rory” flores ) around ? ( she ) have/has been in kaos for ( two months ). the ( twenty four year old ) is a/an ( bartender ) from ( los angeles, united states ). people say they can be ( hot-headed ) but maybe that’s not too bad ‘cause they can also be ( steadfast ). whenever i think of them, i can’t help but think of ( iced coffee at nine pm, the smell of the earth after rain, a four leafed clover poking out of a crack in the road ). ･ﾟ✧ ( penned by neha, 21, est, she/her ).

hiiiii everyone first of all i am so happy to be here the main is b e a u t i f u l and gives me so much greek god inspo! i’m neha this is my bby rory!! i’m going to add my big bio/about blurb that was in my app so if you want to you can read all about her, but if you don’t have time here’s a little tldr; for you!

rory is my LA club kid QUEEN, she basically grew up super poor but going to a school wanting to fit in with the rich popular kids, long story short she started selling club drugs n stuff to them, gained the friendship and money but once hs ended it, everything ended and she basically had to start over, only now she had the uphill battle w/ addiction to drugs/partying/bad decisions to also handle! she’s on the island bc her mom met a rich guy and he has a villa on the island he wants her to fix up, which is also doubling as a kind of ‘get clean’ retreat tho it ain’t rlly working even tho sgenuinelynunienly sometimes want to do better. she’s a hustler and has a sharp tongue, but on the inside she has a heart of gold and rlly just wants to be loved for who she is for like the first time ever <3

PLOTTING STUFF: she’s been on the island for two months now, but lil girl is all about having those connections bc she thinks its the only way she can have value (ugh poor kid) so lmk!! they could’ve met through the whole partying/drugs route, at the bar where she works at a bartender, or maybe at the hardware stores that she frequents because she’s fixing up the villa! i have more specific plot ideas but i don’t want to make this post too long so hmu or like this post for me to come to you!!

ok, that’s my two pieces said, now here’s the longish bio section if you want to learn more in depth about her :)Tw for abuse, drug use/dealing, addiction

B I O G R A P H Y

Rory is from LA born and raised! Her mother is a single mom and it was just them for a long time, with the rotating cast of her mother’s boyfriends. The two could just never seem to get close to financial stability and she grew up rough, never having enough money to keep up with the kids at school, then having to fend for herself once she got home because her mother worked nights.

At home, it all depended on what boyfriend out of the rotation her mother was currently seeing. The best strategy for all of them was avoidance, so Rory spent her days on the streets or at work, never really wanting to deal with the boyfriends. Throughout the years, she suffered abuse and neglect from these men, and though she tried to tell her mother, who was always just a little too busy, a little too high, or a little too blind to the effects. Besides, they needed the extra money that the various boyfriends gave.

Despite it all, at school Rory shined. She was smart, that much was clear, and she exuded a certain aura of warmth that could make anyone, even the girls with birkin bags and ice cold hearts fall in love. Her school was a dichotomy of rich and poor, and if she worked her ass off and put in maximum effort, it seemed she could fit in with both. But she didn’t want both, didn’t want the stigma of her background to follow her everywhere. She wanted to live in the world of marble countertops and athleisure accessorized with diamonds. So, with extreme effort, she pulled herself up to the social ranks of those girls in school, always going over to their houses to study, pretending she never learned how to drive so that they wouldn’t know she couldn’t afford a car, let alone the mercedes and italian sports cars they drove to school.

But keeping up has its price, and that price began to climb as she was integrated deeper. Rory needed money for twelve dollar salads and fifty dollar spin classes, and the money from her job (which she said her mom forced her to do to learn responsibility) wasn’t cutting it. She was a scrappy kid turned into a precocious young adult and she’d been scrambling all her life, this was just another bootstraps moment. She had the connections from her neighborhood, and what did rich kids like more than drugs? The answer was nothing, and Rory made the leap easily, starting off small and gradually building up a mini drug empire in her high school. She finally had spending money, but more importantly she had friends and people who cared about her, and she wasn’t going to give that up for the world.

Rory wasn’t dumb, she knew this couldn’t last forever, so she was also making solid plans to further herself in life. But an addictive personality ran in her veins as evidenced by her mother who was addicted to it all - drugs, boyfriends, and bad decisions. The moment it all started to go south could be pinpointed to the moment she herself started to use the drugs. Her friends were doing it after all, and she didn’t want to be a buzzkill. The drugs were an escape from her shitty life that was going nowhere, after all. They let her put on the rose-tinted glasses that she’d been denied since birth, and Rory ate it up.

But with every ascent, comes a crash and as the lag time from the drugs started to affect her performance in everyday life, grades started to slip, dreams fell to the wayside and prospects started to vanish. By the time she finished highschool they’d say - what a fall from grace. Because she’d forgotten one very important thing. If her friends made a mistake, it could all be very easily swept under the rug and forgotten by way of their parents’ money. Rory, however, had no safety net, and at the end of highschool she was left in the lurch: same terrible grades and attendance as her friends, but no large donations to get her into prestigious schools. Or, for a fact, any schools. She’d peaked, and what followed graduation was a spiralling descent back to where she’d started. The friends she’d been so fiercely loyal to moved on to college and beyond and she was left with nothing but the endless LA party scene filled with people she didn’t care about and worse and worse decisions by the day.

If it’d gone on for a couple more months, she’d probably have died. But the money started to dry up as her friends left, and the final blow was a drop gone wrong - high as a kite, she’d decided that handing off a major package to a much larger man in a dark alley was a good idea, and the inevitable tussle and robbing left her hurting. She was high and dry with no income and no savings. Twenty-two years old and nothing to her name. It was time for that scrappy kid to scramble once again, but that kid now had a mild drug problem and a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas.

It wasn’t going to be easy. But one thing Rory was always good at was cultivating her connections. Though her friends had moved on, Rory’s combination of dimples, winning smile, and just enough ass kissing had created just enough opportunities with the people in their lives, and the people at the parties she frequented. She had an in to the rich, and damn if she wasn’t going to exploit it. Odd jobs here and there was her life now, just enough to keep her drug addiction alive, just enough to keep her name in the back of the minds of the wealthy. She knew this would change her life somehow, she just wasn’t quite sure how yet.And who could’ve predicted how it happened.

It was mundane, a job making drinks at a classy party, one of those ones where the host barely shows up, where the adults sip their martinis and the kids do blow in the bathrooms. The party wasn’t anything remarkable, but what followed was. She was getting picked up by her mother, and the host of the party, a middle aged salt and pepper type man recognized her mother. They had gone to school together or something, Rory was exhausted and didn’t really care, but apparently her mother turned on the same charm inherent in Rory, and the next Friday had lined up a date.

Things progressed extremely quickly from there on out, with lavish dinners and getaway weekends for the two lovebirds. It was astonishing to watch, and the whispers of ‘gold-digger’ from the country club ladies couldn’t even come close to puncturing Rory’s mom’s thick skin. Both women had been to hell and back after all, had worked all their lives for pennies, and finally something serendipitous had happened. All the toxic exs were dropped within the first six months, the crappy two bedroom within a year, and after a year and a half marriage and a kid on the way - though nobody could quite say which one came first. It was a strike of lightning, transforming the tiny flores family immediately. Call it fate or fortune, but Rory was finally back in that world that she’d strived to be in.

This time, when the spiral came it was well supported and well recognized by Rory’s new step-father. He’d already been through the gambit of raising rich kids, two who were now nearing their thirties, and he could see the signs instantly. Bloodshot eyes, partying all night, sniffles and gaunt features. Rory was getting pulled in again, and fast, but this time there was finally someone looking out for her. She couldn’t escape the lure of the partying and the drugs alone, and this marriage had essentially busted it wide open for her, kicking away any barriers that had been there before. They couldn’t control her, really. She’d been scrambling so long that cutting off the money didn’t matter, she had her connections and her grit that had gotten her this far.

What Rory needed was an out, a way to escape the vicious cycle addiction had pulled her into and her step-father had just the thing: a house on a tiny island in Greece, a fixer upper that needed some love. Of course, he could easily drop a few thousand down and have it renovated much quicker, but he knew Rory had lost her purpose, so he offered it to her on a silver platter.Pride almost kept her in LA. The thinly veiled excuse to get her out wasn’t fooling anyone, but the last straw came when her step father asked her a very simple question: “What’s left for you here?”. For her whole life, LA had only given her pain, hardship, and drugs. Now, the latter was the only thing left. So, she took the deal, and the girl who had never left LA booked a ticket for the other side of the world.

Now, Rory has been on the island for five months. It’s not exactly rehab, but the drug usage has diminished bit by bit, She’s starting to find her footing and become part of the community. She still has that chip on her shoulder, but putting her energy into building something feels good. She’s never built anything in her life, and the house with its extensive gardens needs a lot of work so it’s keeping her extremely busy. When she first got there, the first thing she did was immediately pick up a job as a local bartender because she hates being dependent on her step-father’s money, for fear of him taking it away (trust issues much). The LA dust and glitter is slowly clearing from her eyes, and she’s discovering a much kinder and greener world.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Rory is super charismatic and thus far has been turning on her charm in order to further things in life. She doesn’t have to do this anymore, so her genuine warmness is starting to shine through more. She’s been stung by basically all the relationships in her life, so she holds real companionship extremely close, loyal to the end and extremely passionate and protective.

Bitch has trust issues and a bit of an edge though, so getting to that deep companionship is really hard.She’s also a rough kid, had to claw and fight her way through her life, so she’s definitely a little rough around the edges. She doesn’t open up quickly, and she has a quick temper that acts as a learned defense mechanism. She definitely has a nasty streak when it comes to defense mechanisms, and can be quick with her wrath.

Years on drugs leading up to this quieter life have made Rory a bit antsy, and though she still does some drugs she’s transitioning to chasing an adrenaline high - her addictive personality is always going to be her fatal flaw.

#kaos:intro #like this if you want to plot i'll come to you!!#about

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umbralich · 5 years

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History pt. 5 - Downfall

Part 4 <---

The couple of weeks that followed were... interesting. Arsene's master, Varg Blacksoul, had come back home from work a few hours later Lareine had awakened. For Lareine's relief he had just briefly dropped by in her room before disappearing again. She had quickly learned to get along well with Arsene, who had happened to been keeping her company when Varg had arrived, so they had avoided the most awkward possible situations. Varg had just walked in without bothering to knock, looked from Lareine to Arsene, and without even greeting, just asked: "Has she eaten?"

"Oh yes", Arsene had answered, smiling. "For at least three people."

Varg had nodded absent-mindedly and then asked Lareine: "Need any more analgesics?"

"The anal what?" Lareine had blurted.

"Painkillers."

"Ah, no." He had nodded again and walked out of the door. Lareine hadn't seen him during that day anymore. Arsene had explained he was very busy, and was currently working for the archbishop and his personal guard, clergy, hospital, front lines and on top of all he had his own, unofficial clinic where odd folks with odd problems came for help.

"Wow", Lareine had said. "He doesn't eat or sleep at all then, huh?"

"Scarcely", Arsene had admitted furrowing.

"Ain't it possible to die from too much work?" she had asked.

"It is, indeed", the butler had agreed, looking suddenly very grim for some reason. Lareine hadn't seen fit to ask more about it. It wasn't her problem.

She had spent a couple of days just laying still and staring at the sky from the window of her room. Hells yes she would've needed more painkillers, but hells no she hadn't wanted to take anything from Varg again. Her mind was feeling much more clear without his mixtures. She had also started to feel her numb limbs again, maybe even too vividly. Soon she had been back to the point she could barely move, and the men had started to have their suspicions.

"Don't touch me!" Lareine had barked at Varg, when Arsene had finally gotten fed up with Lareine's misery and demanded him to come and take a look at her.

"I kind of have to", he had stated, sounding indifferent, almost bored, while standing next to Lareine's bed, holding a syringe. "Or do you want to rather suffer?"

"Why can't he do it?" Lareine had asked and nodded towards Arsene, who had been following their conversation with his forehead full of wrinkles.

Meanwhile Varg had sighed and glanced towards the roof like asking for endurance and patience from the higher powers, Arsene had explained:

"I'm very sorry, but I don't know much about medicine. Does the miss have any idea what horrors would happen, even with a small instrument like such, in the hands of the unaware?"

Lareine had glared at the butler for a moment, but after it had become clear he wouldn't offer her any support, she had turned back to glare at the au ra.

"...don't touch me", she had repeated stubbornly.

"Fine", Varg had said. "I will give it to you after you have passed out."

Then he had walked away again, leaving her spend some quality time with her aching carcass. Lareine indeed had passed out later that evening. When she had come to next morning, the pain had been almost completely gone, but she was feeling numb and tired again.

"Screw you", she had muttered alone in the empty room.

After thinking long and hard Lareine had come to a conclusion, that if she kept taking her damned medicine, she would get better sooner, and thus could also leave this mental hospital sooner. She had decided she would play a nice little girl for a week or two, endure her sentence and then... Varg was at work almost all the time, and Arsene, despite spending most of his time at the estate, would just mind his own business. She'd be far before they'd even realize she was missing.

Arsene had seemed genuinely happy about the sudden change in her attitude, but when the next time to take her medicine had come and she hadn't resisted, Varg had stared at her with narrowed eyes like trying to see through her. It surely had felt like it too.

However, Lareine wasn't too concerned about it. She knew how people like him were: they tried to appear intimidating and dominating, but it was just pretense. In reality they were whimpering, weak losers, and their show affected only those with feeble minds. Just like Pavel had been. She was certain, that if she could use her hands, legs and weapons like usual, she and Varg would be pretty much equally good in a fight. He might have more power, but she had more speed and agility. If it was one versus one, and not five versus one like the previous match had been...

There was just one little problem. Laying in bed had become boring already during the first day Lareine had awakened. She had asked Arsene to fetch her some books, but their assortment had sucked. Most of their books had been about anatomy, herbs, elixirs and potions. The only ones that had interested Lareine even a little had been about different weapons: their history, making and maintenance, but the dagger and glaive part had been frustratingly short. Arsene had softened to bring Lareine a couple of tomes from his own shelf, but they hadn't been much of use either.

"Ugh, there's really people out there who read crap like this?" Lareine had cried out thunderstruck, and only too late realized the butler had been still standing next to her. "No offense, gramps", she had added. "But this stuff is so... sugary, ya know?"

Arsene had just laughed understandingly and taken his books back. "These are very old ones I've kept only for the sake of nostalgia. But why, I thought a young lady like you would be into love stories."

"They're alright", Lareine agreed, was silent for a while and then continued: "But right now I can't stand anything love-related in my eyes."

Arsene had observed her in silence with a hint of sadness on his face. "I see.”

For a few weeks Lareine had laid low and let her body heal, but after she had sworn and promised she wouldn't strain herself or make fast or sudden movements, Varg had given her permission to get out of her room.

"Keep an eye on her", he had commanded Arsene, while pulling his boots on in the hallway. "The internal damage is far from healed. The only reason she can stay on her feet for short periods of time is her medication. And the only reason I am allowing this nonsense is because I am aware it can get... boring in here." "Don't worry. I'll make sure she won't overdo it", Arsene had assured at Varg's back, while he had already been halfway out of the door.

Consequently Lareine had joined Arsene in his daily chores, though Arsene did all the work and Lareine was sitting or laying down somewhere nearby while watching him. It was quite dull as well since Lareine herself couldn't do anything, but it still beat the constant hours laid alone in bed. At least she had someone she could talk to. And the more time she spent away from her bed, the less time she had to see nightmares about Pavel and the night she was beaten.

She didn't remember there being even one moment she wouldn't have seen nightmares while she had slept. Every single moment of the times she should've been resting she had endlessly tried to escape mountain-sized roegadyns and hyurs. They had been running swiftly, meanwhile she had run slowly like she'd been wading in tar down to her knees. And just when she had been certain she had somehow miraculously shaken them off, the rat-faced midlander had jumped from somewhere down her throat and the rest of them had also caught her.

Couple of times her own screams had awakened her, and once it had been Arsene who had been beside her, trying to wake her up.

"You don't have to see them if you don't want to, miss Lareine", the butler had reassured her. "My master happens to have a similar problem, and he has a certain mixture that lets you sleep a dreamless sleep. It's quite strong however, has some troublesome side effects and may cause addiction, so it's not recommended for constant use. But every now and then, it shouldn't be a problem -"

"I don't want it", Lareine had interrupted, wiping sweat away from her face. "Don't tell him, please. Really... this ain't as bad as it seems."

Arsene clearly hadn't believed a word she had said, but he hadn't mentioned it again. He apparently also hadn't told Varg, since the au ra never suggested Lareine taking the medicine in question.

After six weeks had passed since the beating, Lareine had become convinced it was time for her to go. She hadn't left the estate and thus hadn't been able to test for how far she could actually walk, but she was quite sure she'd have enough stamina to get to the stables. She'd steal some money from the estate's stash and rent a cart as far as it could take her. Her plans to start a new life with Rosaria hadn't become reality, but nothing could still prevent her from starting her own new life. She had found out about possible places to go and had gotten interested in Kugane, the capital of far east.

Lareine had perhaps grown fond of the old butler, and was sad she should leave him behind without even telling him. She would contact him later, explain everything and tell him she was safe. It was obvious Arsene knew some... things, but Lareine wanted to believe he hadn't sunken as low as his master. However, not even the only friend-like person she had ever found was enough reason to keep her here - not after what she had witnessed in this house of horrors.

Now she knew for sure her instinct had been correct from the start. There was something horribly wrong with their so called master. At first Lareine had thought she had just bathed in her own blood for so long it had ingrained the stench into her nose forever. However, lately she had learned it wasn't coming from her. It was him.

The stench was at its worst at times when Varg got home, and the only times Lareine didn't smell it was right after he had bathed and Arsene had done their laundry. She certainly didn't swallow the explanation of him being a trauma chirurgeon. There were countless other medics around the world who did the exact same kind of work as he did, but they didn't smell like slaughterhouse when they left work.

One day, while following Arsene doing his chores, Lareine had learned of the estate's cellar. The butler had been currently dusting his master's office, while Lareine had been exploring places. After not finding anything interesting from the shelves filled with boring books, a couple of animal skulls and a huge collection of potions and herbs, Lareine had casually opened one of the drawers of Varg's desk, waiting to find something ordinary inside, like notebooks, parchment, quills, pocket watch or gil.

"Is this a friggin' thumbscrew?" she would've wanted to ask. Instead, she had lifted the thing from the drawer and asked innocently: "Gramps, the heck is this?"

Arsene had frozen on the spot for a fleeting moment, and looked at the thing with a blank face. He had recovered from his confusion quickly.

"A certain kind of tool, miss Lareine", he had said, had calmly walked closer and taken the thing from her, simultaneously closing the drawer. "My my, what has gotten into him..? He knows better than well I don't like it when he scatters things in places where they don't belong."

Despite not being finished in the office, Arsene had led Lareine out of the room, and on their way they had stopped in front of the cellar door. Arsene had taken a key from his pocket, opened the door and forbade Lareine from entering, since the descent was steep and the stairs old and unstable and blah blah blah. Lareine had watched when he had disappeared into the dark corridor. She had heard a small chink from somewhere far away, and then Arsene had ascended the stairs, closed and locked the door, and continued his day like nothing out of ordinary would've happened.

Lareine didn't believe Varg actually did anything in the cellar. She would've noticed. But she was now certain what kind of "work" he did. She wanted to get far away from him and fast.

Next time she was alone with Arsene, and Varg had left for his night shift a couple of hours ago, Lareine put her plan in motion.

"I'm feeling tired, gramps", she noted after they had just had their evening tea, and were getting ready for some late paperwork. For a couple of days Arsene had been going through their archives and getting rid of useless papers, letting Lareine put the spared ones in order. "I think I'm gonna go to sleep early today."

"As you wish, miss Lareine", Arsene said while smiling. "I'll be up for a few hours at least. You're welcome to join me if you can't get sleep."

"Thanks."

Lareine had retired into her room and waited, until she was certain Arsene had returned to the living room. She still didn't have clothes to her liking, just some old-fashioned rags left by the previous masters of the estate. Arsene had promised to take Lareine shopping after she could go outside, but that would have to wait. In her current clothes she'd look like a beggar, but perhaps that would serve her cause.

It was almost ridiculously easy to get out. When she had first arrived to the estate, Lareine had definitely overestimated the duo. Arsene was listening to an orchestrion and humming playfully while sorting the papers. He sat in the couch and had turned his back to the corridor. Lareine was able to sneak past him like he wouldn't have even been there. There also wasn't any kind of security, only ordinary, locked doors she was able to open from the inside. She snatched someone's long, black winter coat from the coat rack and dashed outside. Lareine hadn't bothered to take boots that were several sizes too big. She'd survive better with her slippers, that also were a bit big for her, but at least they weren't men's size.

While Lareine was scurrying along the desolate streets of Ishgard, she felt free for the first time in ages. Even the cold weather, freezing paving or sleet that watered her head almost instantly couldn't ruin her triumph. She followed her plan and headed towards the stables. To her surprise, the cart driver currently on standby didn't ask her any questions, just gave her a very long look while she paid, and then apparently decided she had a good reason to do what she did.

Lareine noted to herself, that apparently chocobo cart and cobblestone street weren't a good combination for a traveler who had broken bones and stab wounds. Pff, who cared? She'd just have to bite the bullet. It'd get easier once they got away from the city. Roads were usually flatter.

When the cart approached the city gates, Lareine inched towards the end of the cart, which had no ceiling blocking the view. Ishgard was such a pretty city, she thought. It was truly a shame she couldn't stay. Soon she had forgotten herself to stare at the stonewalls, majestic towers and rising pillars looking high and mighty even in the middle of the worst possible weather.

Too late Lareine became aware of the situation, when she heard the cart driver talking to someone.

"Inspect away, ser knights", he laughed. "I've got nothing to hide. Just one passenger, but she didn't have luggage, so I don't think she has anything to hide either."

At the very moment Lareine noticed she was face to face with Varg. Before that she had only seen him in his cleric garb, or his hospital attire, or his more casual but elegant style he used at home. Never before had she seen him in full paladin armor, a long, white cloak, crown circlet and carrying a sword with engraved, flaming runes. She was so terrified she couldn't say or do anything. On the top of all her mouth dropped open on its own.

Varg just let out a deep sigh while furrowing his brow.

---> Part 6

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #viera #lareine #elezen #arsene #stories

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thetwominuteshate-blog · 5 years

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Hello, cruel world.

I am exhausted with living on this earth.

I could throw literary quotes at you. I could tell you that society at large has become what the dystopian science fiction authors of yesteryear predicted it would. I could start this blog with a call to arms, urging you to riot in the streets and tear down the prison we've built for ourselves.

But the truth is I'm just tired. I'm tired of constantly living in fear. I'm tired of feeling no connection with the world around me. I'm tired of seeing so much suffering that spans continents, in "the greatest nation in the world", while criminals look down on us with derision from their ivory towers. I am tired of feeling as though, no matter what I do, my decisions are of no consequence. I'm tired of the world slowly eroding me until there is nothing good left in me. I'm tired of feeling alone, and I am so, so tired of seeing the world as it could be--as it SHOULD be--and always coming up so short I can't even see the finish line.

I've been rejecting the reality I've found myself in for far too long, escaping into worlds of my own making or the worlds others have created for the sake of escaping my own despair. But it doesn't have to be this way. I still reject this reality, the efficient brutality of a race that has been born into an environment so unforgiving that we fail to put our own violent natures behind us. I reject the notion that the world cannot improve. I have had enough.

Those of you who have read George Orwell's 1984 might remember the Two Minutes Hate. For those of you who haven't or have forgotten, the Two Minutes' Hate is a daily ritual put in place by a maddeningly restrictive government with the intention of directing the fear and anger of common individuals living in such a repressive society by placing them in front of a television screen that projects images of whomever the Party deems is an enemy. The Other. When I first read it, this excerpt in particular stood out to me:

"The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretence was always unnecessary. A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledge hammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one's will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic. And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blowlamp."

These days, most of what I see in the media is the Two Minutes Hate. Talking heads on two dimensional screens telling us who we should hate. Vicious propaganda that those who lack the will to fight the ones keeping them locked in misery buy into wholeheartedly. Instead of directing their rage at the ones responsible, people punch down, ostracizing people less fortunate than them.

But this isn't the reason why I chose to name this blog after the Two Minutes Hate. Because hate is a funny thing--when we don't let it eat away at us, it gives us the strength to fight without abandon. It causes us to reduce things to rubble and burn the remains so there is no trace of its existence. It can be a powerful tool. But it is fire, and most of us, if not all, aren't well enough equipped with the knowledge to know which things are worth burning.

I've been filled with hate nearly for as long as I can remember. Full disclosure: I'm a 27-year-old white, bisexual cis male. For most of my life I lived in a small town and have largely kept myself in seclusion due to bullying throughout my childhood into my teen years. I only recently became aware of the deepening aspects of my sexuality, but over the years I've faced baseless accusations of homosexuality to the point that a cowardly bully had his friend fight me. As a result, I faced suspension. My school district, like most, put on a public face that disavowed bullying, but enabled it when it occurred. The culture I was surrounded by swam in toxic masculinity, boys that pretended to be men through the ownership of trucks flying the Confederate flag and other meaningless, superficial displays of their own insecurities. My "community", which is so very important to conservative culture, treated me like a stubborn weed long before I could even grasp cruelty. I felt suffocated, unable to flourish because there was always someone watching my every move. As a result, I've come to loathe authority in all its forms.

That's just backstory, though. Over the years I've come to realize that my circumstances were relatively fortunate. I'm privileged; people have been murdered over the merest suspicion that they might be gay. There are people who face severe bullying on a near-daily basis, and that's in this country alone. The atrocities committed in our world's history dwarf mine to a subatomic level. I've had friends who have been raped, faced child and domestic abuse, and even now are in circumstances far more dire than my own. It's no longer for my own sake that I hate, it's for those who are beaten down and cannot fight back, whether on an individual or cultural basis.

I'm not here to play white, straight(ish) savior. In fact, I wouldn't even consider myself to be an ordinary person. I am on the verge of mental instability--for years I've felt the effects of severe depression, which is finally in check. For a time I was so suicidal that I abused substances on a daily basis because the only calming thoughts I had in sobriety were of my own death. I have a deep desire to hurt and destroy, to get back at the world that I feel cut me open and left me to bleed out. I'm a sadist and a masochist in the BDSM scene. I have twisted fantasies that run so deeply to my core and no outlet for them outside of the scene. I want to make others suffer for the injustices they inflict upon those who are undeserving of pain. Because whoever came up with the idiom, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" should have been tortured without cause, broken by suffering that held no ultimate meaning. Then he'd have a greater grasp on the state of the reality as it is.

Hate is addictive. Orwell was right; it spreads like a wildfire, and it's impossible not to be caught in the blaze yourself unless you sequester yourself with comfort and ignorance. And turning a blind eye to the problems others face, whether it's next door or on the other side of the globe, is possibly worse. Until now, I've feared the repercussions of acting against authority, the odds of my successful retribution stacked heavily against me. Even now, I fear the things I will express will draw fire from all sides, so I'm shielding myself through an anonymity browser in order to ward off potential enemies, whether they are a collective agency like the NSA or some alt-right IT cunt with internet access. Those of us in the United States have been officially granted a right to free speech, but we live in an era in which seizing that right can go so far as to get you killed, especially if you call for progress and your voice is heard by millions.

But my end goal is not society's complete collapse. There are pieces of this world worth preserving. I may only be useful for tearing things down, but someday I hope someone will build them back up into something better that works for all people. I long to help individuals understand that all people are just that--people. Not secondary or tertiary characters in your life, good-or-evil projections onto a screen for you to scream at. It's this mentality that causes entire populations to suffer, and I know my work will never be done until the most marginalized find a place in society.

But this is not a call to empathy. Part of recognizing each other's humanity is holding each other accountable for their actions. I believe no person can be perfectly good--we all do terrible things, myself thoroughly included--but there are those of us who are so mindlessly destructive in their actions that I honestly believe the world would be better off without them. This quality of malignance does not discriminate between race, gender, or age. We are among self-made monsters on a daily basis, and they deserve as much sympathy as they dole out.

Words without action are meaningless. I don't intend to sit here and tell y'all to start a French-style bloodletting while I sit comfortably in a downtown loft. This is a time for action. This is a time for violence. This is a time to stand up against the birth of fascism in the so-called "Land of the Free". This is a time for hate.

I am Winston Smith, and this is my Two Minutes Hate. This is my war. Will you join me?

#fuck donald trump #fuck trump #make donald drumf again #fuck maga #fuck fascism #fuck society #fuck you for happening #antifa #anarchist #george orwell #1984 #1984 is now #two minutes hate

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aplanterofthought · 5 years

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It’s been a year since I’ve sat down and typed like this..all my previous posts are pretty new agey-but i dont care enough to delete them.

I’ve been thinking a lot about each of our dual natures. Our feminine and our masculine. Our moon and our sun. balancing the two---The left hand path is our spiritual, our inner light, our intuition. The right hand path is our material, our external light, our logic. In our physical lives, tuition is something we use to gain knowledge in Universities, through a degree...a course. In our spiritual lives, intuition is something we use to gain knowledge of our Universe, 360 degrees, a source....My focus is balancing the two, respectfully. Symbolically, these are the hands in prayer. The two come together in front of the heart in solidarity. im a little obsessed with understanding the science to it all----best described by people like George Gurdjeiff, Rudolf Steiner, Ouspensky, Mark Hedsel, and Boris Mouravieff and a ton of others.

I think we feed the moon. We are not “sun food”, because the sun doesn’t take. The moon acts as a magnet...It pushes and pulls. Inhales and exhales? Inhales a specific energy and exhales a certain “power” or “command” that keeps the mechanical aspects of us in order. Which is Gurdjeiffs whole gig. Fourth Way initiate, Rodney Collin explained that, “because our body was largely made of water and the moon pulls on water to create the ocean tides, our bodies are made to move in similar but more complicated ways through hydraulic principles”. Gurdjeiff explains the moon as pretty much an earth baby, that its a developing planet still in a type of cosmic womb connected to the earth via an etheric umbilical chord and that in life on earth, organic beings feed energy through this chord with unprovoked emotional turmoil and unconscious psychological suffering. Pre-meditated spiritual warfare is something interesting to consider, maybe we are intentionally influenced by corruption that easily feeds our undisciplined lower natures, creating a devastating spiritual divide within ourselves and consequently manifesting that imbalance through wars choreographed by elitists. I wonder how the admitted dumping of aluminum into our atmosphere to “deflect the sun’s radiation” plays into all of this. It’s interesting to think about the role of “light” in developing countries, more specifically the SOURCE of that light. And how this effects our relationship to our moon. Before electricity, our lives went dark when the sun descended. And something beautiful happens then.......

A little bit of sun and moon-

The sun -male- It’s entire energy is all giving, all illuminating, selfless, healing. I’ve read that those closest to, or whom have reached “enlightenment”, not only appear brighter as en entity, but actually communicate with the Sun energetically. They resonate the same healing frequencies. Rudolf Steiner teaches that beings who reach this point can either chose to reincarnate on earth to become a teacher to others, or ascend to the sun. a being who’s energy is overwhelmingly in accord with logic, is less in touch with their intuition. They are more consumed by matter than spiritual, by action than non action. You hear people call materialistic people shallow because large bodies of water is a deeply rooted symbol for our consciousness. (Could the physical earth be an emanation of our “collective” spiritual awakenings? Land vs water? Maybe the mass of water is a symbol for how little we understand about our consciousness?) People in the extreme of logic may have no connection to the spirit, deny any existence of spirit at all. I’m not saying i think “enlightened beings” are materialistic. Enlightenment sounds like a fine inner alchemy, and becoming an entity which no longer takes energy, but becomes a beacon of light...to help save those who have forgotten their silence, or forgotten their voice. They become the light that guides us back to our center.

On the other hand, the moon, representing our intuition/imagination/creative/sensual feminine sides, is (as is the point) equally important. With the absence of light, we are forced to develop our intuition. Without the light of an exterior world, or the use of our external eyes/sight we see through our in-site. Our third eye? This is how we sense danger, how we develop our inner voice, our relationship to ether/astral planes, communication with our “spirit guides”/our clairvoyance...our senses that are directly effected by the non-physical realms. Is our intuition 1 sense? or a multitude of senses.

Just the same, spiritually “addicted” people, have little or no interest or relationship to their material lives, or the material world. If ones attention is left leaning, they will lack attachment or concern to the physical world....physical life, nature, or their duties as people in a physical world. The in between, specifically exactly in between, are those who have chosen the middle way. Jesus found the middle way. So did Buddha. This is Christ Consciousness or Buddha Nature. To find the middle way is to balance both sides. We are here on earth, our experience is human, and that experience is of dual nature. Masculine and Feminine. The inner and the outer. The receiving and the giving. The action and non action, the doing and not doing, the being and not being. Actor, and the audience. The is and the isn't.

Back to life before electricity, how about life before fire? I read something outstanding about fire and language that ill write about in my semantics/etymology post. But how has artificial light effected our spiritual evolution? The sun goes down and our lights go on. An enormous amount of darkness has no longer become an issue for peoples in developed countries. Its the shadows that question our logic. The shadows that define our strengths and fears, its an absolute yin and yang--this entire thing. Some of us are so disconnected to nature simply by working inside during the day, and staying in our homes during the night. Not only has our relationship to nature been fractured, our relationship to the darkness is ironically fading into it’s own shadow...the dark side of darkness. the dark side of the moon? And this is where i think a very abstract personality of the moon develops. What if the moon had it’s own yin and yang? And what if our emotional states, as a human race, were feeding into it’s own imbalance?

In these mystery schools, some talk about the moon being a kind of cosmic “house cleaning”, and that without its’ absorption of our toxic emotions/energy....earth would become a spiritual wasteland. Rudolf Steiner explains that the moon used to be apart of the earth, and in fact the sun did as well....Since I, personally, have doubts about the physical reality of space and our galaxy the way we are taught...I lean more toward the expression that these planets are energetic realms, aspects of our emotions that we resonate with, and perhaps even tune in and out of “alternate universes”, depending on how disciplined and balanced our energy centers within our bodies are. Steiners work is extremely complex and I have only breached his teachings, so I cant speak at length (yet) why exactly the sun and moon separated from earth. But to imagine these entities physically being united at one point, and then physically separating is odd...and a little difficult....how ever, it feels more likely to me, that the energetic separation could represent our stage of evolution. And since an emanation is a male and female product of something that is androgynous---it would make sense that the moon and sun would be that product. When the sun separated from earth, it was the BIRTH of the sun, the birth of light, the first time man saw himself, as well as his surroundings, thus developing is relationship to them. This was the birth of EGO. Because man saw HIMSELF for the first time. Maybe this was when we went from MAN (emanation/E-MAN-NATION/energy man/A Nation of energetic man) to a Human/HUE-MAN, a man of color/light being the source of color. ----And the moon separated as well to function as some kind of dwelling for the aspect of ego that serves as a different kind of evolution.

does the moon have its own balance, and does the collective emotional bank of the human race offset it’s pendulum by the etheric feeding during our human experience?

The moon used to have a different role, i believe it used to be a different teacher...or perhaps we have willed ourselves into a different student...back when we lived in sync with its cycles, we understood the nature of the moon, because it made us understand the nature of ourselves. We connected with it, and like the sun giving life to a plant through its light in the sky, it gave life to our inner growth through its’ glow in the night. But like all things, the further we separate ourselves, the less we understand it. And the less we understand something, the more fearful we become of it, and the more fearful we become of something, the more powerful does that something become. And the stronger that illusion, the tighter the chains that enslave us. The moon is no longer our teacher, like it used to be. It’s source of darkness, of shadows that frighten us, of cold winds that play tricks on our senses-used to sharpen our intuition, we’ve almost abandoned that side of us. The artificial light in our lives has created a bizarre shift of consciousness.

How can we reconnect with our divine feminine?

Spend more time outside in the dark. Go to bed an hour before you get tired and be alone with your thoughts. Meditate. Think more! Dont let steal creativity. Write more. Find ways to engage your intuitive side, search online ways to sharpen your intuition. Start noticing synchronicities, dejavus, start analyzing your dreams. Start to dissect your fears, our fears are just projections of the conflicts we have internally. Understand your relationship to things sensually. Find the comparisons with your inner and outer nature. Make the connections. Practice self discipline. Discipline will strengthen your connection to your spirit, because your only weakness is your mind.

I think we’ve lost touch of our feminine, we have lost control/understanding and power over those energies and given them to the moon..i think there’s a much larger picture that’s happening to our evolution and perhaps our increasing abandonment of our spiritual side is creating a large shift of energy toward the moon.

But there is also theories that the moon is a satellite, man made, or a hologram. I dont rule anything out. This was just one that i’ve explored most. Some old initiations of mystery schools required students to sacrifice a pig, where the ocean meets the land, under the moon. And obviously we have all heard about full moon sacrifices, even today. The old initiation that i read about, were to symbolize sacrificing the flesh/lower nature part of ourselves to the God’s of the underworld,, and giving our spirits to the moon.

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yvaquietdays · 6 years

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unfriending my phone

So the leaves are finally starting to drop off the trees around here, giving me all the autumnal/winter pinterest-your-way-to-Halloween vibrations. Nature has a canny way of living and dying and getting rid of what it doesn’t need, taking time out, taking a rest and putting its feet up while the cold weather sets in. It doesn’t need to tweet about it, or update an instagram story with the caption “Branches are dying off lolz.” Autumn marks the beginning of death and decay, it won’t be long until we start posting pictures of our favourite streets coated in leaves (I’m into it). It’s amazing; so many of us love the colours of the fall but in essence, it is the death of living things that we celebrate, so that everything can start anew next year. That’s reality, and I think that’s beautiful.

Here’s my point. I wish social media would take a break; I wish it would curl up in front of the fire, maybe die off and come back better for everyone next year. I know so many people who now log out of their apps, only to be sent emails from the apps themselves trying to help them “get back online.” This happened to me two weeks ago.

I don’t know whether I was suffering from PMS, or if I’d been sitting around too long, but my anxiety came on through flood gates I’d obviously forgotten to shut, so it took me a little while to realise the frequency had returned and was buzzing underneath everything before I tried to counteract its presence. I’ve realised I find it quite difficult trying to relive just how my anxiety feels in those moments, because everything seems like a big grey, squishy worm that bleeds into each passing minute, floating midair, making the atmosphere dreadful and vehr wormy. So there are no definitive emotions. Just worry, dread, pressure around my brain and the existential worry that I am not enough. What I can recall, though, is that I was on social media so often I must have feared it was going to miss me. I have noticed that in times of my quarter life existentialism, the less I have going on around me, the more I automatically, without thought or intention, find myself immersed balls deep in social media. It takes around an hour of surfing absolute dink before I even realise how deep my balls are in the first place. I scrolled mindlessly, and through that open window of my phone, that little ignorant bitch named anxiety flew in as easily as a mother-fucking pidgeon, and I felt just as bad as that time I accidentally pronounced Pinot Grigio as Pee-not-Gri-guy-O. But alas! What did I do, but continue to swipe my poor little finger, as if it would find some answer, some pick-me-up that would relieve the overwhelming feeling of I-HAVE-FAILED (and believe me, when I ordered a Pee-not-Gri-guy-O to that waitress in the restaraunt I did feel that same sense of existential failure). I couldn’t explain to you or myself what I was looking for, and yet the more I found myself looking the worse I felt.

Let me tell you, that shit is as dangerous and addictive as gambling.

Did you know, Twitter was the first application to develop the pull-to-refresh feature, which was essentially mimicry of a slot machine? It wasn’t long before all the others followed suit (Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat et al); ever wonder why you keep refreshing your pages? Do you hope to see something new? Something more beautiful? Something you’ve been tagged in? What’s the difference between you and the fella in Aspers, feeding in twenty after twenty into the machine, in the hopes that this time, this time, he’ll be rewarded? What about the woman who keeps getting four fifties changed at a time, laying all her chips on the roulette table, and losing it all, only to change more money, because this time, this time, she might win?

It’s not about the money any more. It’s about seeking the reward, the win, the fulfilment, and in social media’s world, validation.

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2018/may/08/social-media-copies-gambling-methods-to-create-psychological-cravings

So I’ve known for a while the power the internet and social media apps have had over me; all the articles I read in research for my novel really opened my eyes. Sometimes, though, I’m just as good as all the other people on the bus; neck craned, eyes cast downwards, quickly researching Ariana Grande’s insta feed to salivate over her aesthetic, or to see why everyone thought she was responsible for Mac Millers death (hint: she wasn’t). It’s because, just like everyone else, I’m totally addicted to my phone.

Aside: I’m not blaming my bout of anxiety on social media, I’m just noting that it is a huge factor in how I perceive my life.

I use social media as a drug for my restlessness, and I receive sweet fuck all from it. Every time I look, it’s a reminder of how little I’m working, because I’m spending all my time thinking about working and looking at other people succeeding. It integrates this sense of failure, the smallness of my successes look in comparison, to be puney and frail. My lovely living room, amidst the quaint backdrop of my London suburb, looks boring against other artists hanging out in studios and lounging against LA backdrops online. What a failure I am; I’m eating into my savings to pay rent and afford food, I can’t buy that nice contouring set they’re selling to look the part, I’m flogging my clothes on Depop for spare change, I can’t afford flights there, I can’t afford any of this and I’m still chasing this pathetic goal of making money from my art. Every time I leave my parents house, my Dad hugs me and says, “Keep your head up, it’ll happen,” even if I haven’t spent the last two days complaining, even if I’m content, even if I run a bloody half marathon. Everyone’s still aware that she’s still trying, she’s not there yet. It’s really quite easy to lose yourself in those thoughts, it’s easy for me to reel all this off for the sake of a blogpost, but in the end I have to remind myself of the reality.

And that is, I’m fine. I’ve been doing better than I have for a long time. I’m excited, I’m getting motivated, I’m trying, I’m earning, I’m positive about the future. I’m looking after myself.It’s uncertain at times, but life is uncertain. I’m not stepping forward to play the victim in the play of me life. But that’s the kind of outlook I have in hindsight when I haven’t been on my phone all day, because social media does not help my anxiety, or hinder its progress at all. It encourages it. Instagram feeds off of my insecurity and isolation, Twitter feeds off my desire to be all knowing, Facebook creates the illusion that I’m connected when in reality I’m more separated from everyone on there than I’ve ever been.

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2017/may/19/popular-social-media-sites-harm-young-peoples-mental-health

As a generation, we’re so very disenfranchised but we’re all part of this huge market. It feels as though we’re connecting, and don’t get me wrong, social media is great for self expression and identity and openness. But at the end of the day, it’s a business, and we’re it’s blind, salivating customers. It’s a marketplace for everyone to sell themselves, even when they have no goods to offer. We’re advertised products that an algorithm predicted we’d like, we’re told to post daily to reach more followers, but most of them are bots or strangers who won’t look at your page more than once. Everyone follows each other but we don’t support or give like we used to. I get the odd comment on Instagram complimenting me on my “content,” but that “content” is just my life, I don’t plan it, I don’t create it, it just is. When did our lives become fictional?! I’m all about real action, not figurative or hopeful. I’m about judging my relationships on how they are outside of an app, not what’s said inside of it. It’s too easy to lose ourselves in the virtual version of reality, where we can create how we’re seen. That’s the side of social media that I see, in terms of how it reflects back to me; it’s dark and foreboding, it’s void of meaning. And that is why I’ve been logging out. I want to enjoy it when I’m on there, not reminded of every flaw in my makeup. I rarely login in to Facebook now. I allow myself, twice a day, to look at Instagram (my main vice and source of all my first world anguish), and now I’ve been off-line, my desire to browse the app has diminished dramatically. I notice my boredom better than before; It doesn’t hold my attention. I caught myself scrolling half loaded pictures (bad wifi connection) this morning, and realised fifteen seconds in that I wasn’t actually looking at anything, I was swiping, endlessly, but the pictures were blurry and it was only the subconscious idea that something would appear that kept me going. So I put my phone down and finished my poop.

Has anyone else found themselves doing something similar? Has anyone else tried logging out? What kind of an effect did it have on you, on your mental health? What kind of an effect does your active participation on social media have, as a whole, on your mind? Do you feel less connected to the world, or more connected to those around you? Perhaps you have a better relationship with your phone than I do. *shrug*

I know I sound like a real doomsayer with my dark cloak (I’m not really wearing a cloak, but damn I think I’d like to) and and my seemingly pessimistic outlook. It’s not my intention to negate social media’s power to instigate positive change; just look at iWeigh, Help Refugees, Political Jules or Coppafeel. All good people using a Instagram to better spread their message of good health, equality and better body image across all platforms. I also believe the people who have really nailed social media are the heroes, the mums and dads of Facebook and Instagram, using Facebook to share with friends and family. That’s the whole point, and I personally think that we’re missing it as a younger generation. It’s so easy to lose ourselves in a business who’s main priority is traffic across all its apps. It doesn’t care what the traffic is, whether its bad or good, friend or foe, wizard or troll (I’ve been re-reading the Harry Potter books again), only that we’re there and we’re active.

I reckon I really am an old woman at heart; so shoot me. I love my plants and painting, and I dream of living in some log cabin with an art studio, with a huge allotment, my main man and a couple of dergs, Bob Ross style. I love making music and getting on stage and performing, I love acting and I love media and I love galleries, I adore bookshops, beaches, forests. The whole, soppy whack. So what? I’m a romantic.

(That’s the only cool old lady gif I could find)^^^

I’m tired of stalling real conversations because either they or I have been sucked into apps, emails or jigsaw puzzles (it me). I want to live in this real world and create in this real world, but the discontent and conflict I feel is sometimes really, really irritating; I don’t want to use social media for my art, but it seems the only way you’re to be judged by labels and music makers. How much of a following do you have? How many likes do you pull in? How often do you post? It’s not about your art any more, it’s how good you are at selling it. I have enough trouble dealing with all the cogs turning in my brainbox without thinking about all this bullshit. And it goes beyond all that, it’s really irrelevant what career I choose, social media is addictive regardless of what we do.

So fuck that. I play the game when I have to, but I’m not bending over backwards for it.

#mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealth #mentalhealthwarrior #mentalhealthblogger #mentalhealthblog #mentalhealthandtechnology #mentalhealthandsocialmedia #socialmedia #instagramandmentalhealth #anxietyissues #livingwithanxiety #lifestyleblog #oldlady #pulldowntorefresh #worldwidewhat

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thingsarered20 · 6 years

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Jeremie Belpois and Jerlita:Part 2

Well my new puppy is finally asleep which means I have time to do part 2 of this essay . It will focus on season 2.

(I don’t even know why I chose this pic, I just wanted an opening pic)

Ready to get thrown into Sector 5? Then let’s go!

In the season premiere New Order, we learn Jeremie improved on the Superscan so that way Aelita would no longer have to spend every waking moment on Lyoko(prior to improving the Superscan Aelita was their only way to know if a tower was activated, the Superscan was merely a supplement to Aelita and had to be run manually). I find it cute how he actually took the time to upgrade the superscan so she wouldn’t have to spend the whole wait till he found an antivirus stuck on Lyoko.

(Obligatory pic of them for reasons)

Later in the episode while Jeremie is walking with Aelita in the woods to work on a project for Mrs.Hertz’s class, they talk about horror films and Jeremie states he does not have time for movies as he has his hands “full with X.A.N.A”). This quote sums him up pretty well, he won’t let himself rest or have any fun until X.A.N.A is gone for good. This is important because a common piece of dirt he gets thrown at him is that he doesn’t spend enough time with his friends. Wait...you’re telling me you’d rather he party then work as hard as he can to defeat the demonic entity that is constantly trying to kill him and his friends? There is also something else I don’t get about that, people claim because Jeremie doesn't go to Lyoko he doesn't do anything to fight X.A.N.A. Yet those same people also complain he works too much. So, which is it? Does he do nothing to fight X.A.N.A or does he do too much to fight X.A.N.A?

At the end of the episode Jeremie gives Aelita a cellphone as a gift and it is adorable!

(Yeeeesh how loaded is this kid? Cellphones are NOT cheap)

In Mister Puck, the visions Aelita had been having since first entering the Hermitage become too much to keep ignoring or to keep writing off as nightmares. So, when they all head to Hermitage to see if they can put a stop to them Jeremie reassuringly holds her hand.

(D’awwwwww)

As for St.Valentines’s Day I already talked about that episode in a separate post. However, I would also like to point out if you wanna demonize Jeremie for being a 12-year old kid experiencing his first bout of jealously then be my guest and frankly, everyone gets jealous at some point in their lives. I personally feel it does Jeremie a favor by showing he’s a regular kid with flaws like the rest of us rather then making him seem too perfect.

(”YELLOW!””PINK!” You guys are cool and know where that reference is from right?)

In Final Mix, Jeremie is hard at work trying to find Aelita’s anti-virus so they can defeat X.A.N.A and is too busy to fix a mixing board so Aelita does so in lieu of him. After fixing it she discovers she has a talent with the device and is picked to be the DJ for the school party later that night. When Jeremie hears he states he considers the party a “waste of time”(Gasp!). “What a jerk!”I can already hear people saying but, wait...there’s more to it then that. Jeremie was already established as a hard worker in season 1. There’s no reason why in season 2 this would be any different. It makes sense why he considers working hard to beat X.A.N.A more important then partying. Sure enough, X.A.N.A does end up possessing Jim and kidnapping Aelita. This shows Jeremie is very much properly paranoid. Every event people get mad at him for blowing off to work gets wrecked by X,A.N.A in some way. Don't get me wrong saying it was a waste of time was harsh but I understand where that thought process comes from.Getting rid of the evil demonic A.I comes before partying in Jeremie’s eyes. I’d also like to point out he does not actively prevent her from going. He’s not happy about it but, he’s not gonna stop her from doing what she wants. Much as he likes her company and probably wants the extra help on his research, he knows she’s no little doll he can keep on his shelf and play with whenever he wants.

(Opening up about an addiction is tough)

In Temptation, Jeremie begins behaving very strangely to the point of getting rude and defensive for no reason. Even making unwarranted returns to the past despite knowing they make X.A.N.A stronger(they learned this in episode 30″A Great Day”) and starts blowing off classes that are not P.E to work. Aelita goes to tell him he should take a break but he responds “Oh yeah, does X.A.N.A take breaks?!”. When Aelita says she does not want to lose him, Jeremie realizes she really is concerned and gets his mind back for a second and goes to explain what’s been going on with him but right when he is about to open up to her X.A.N.A attacks “You see X.A.N.A never takes breaks!”Jeremie declares. After a RTTP Jeremie is found passed out on the floor. He cannot be woken up and is in a coma. Aelita hacks into his video diary and they find out that Jeremie has been using an neuronal headset to increase his intelligence with each RTTP in hopes of being able to find Aelita’s antivirus faster. It comes with a cost though each RTTP with the headset takes a drastic toll on his mental and physical health(explaining the moodiness and the coma). he knew this but still used it to try to save Aelita faster. What happens to him don’t matter as long as Aelita comes out the other end of it safe. In the end Jeremie is able to break away from addiction to the RTTPs and breaks the headset.

(What would you do if some girl came up to you and accused you of kissing her in front of your de-facto girlfriend?)

In X.A.N.A’s Kiss X.A.N.A plays on the groups emotions in a divide and conquer bid. Naturally Jeremie and Aelita are part of this and have a falling out as a result of it. When the realize they were doped they still need to find Aelita. Jeremie knows right away where she is and the fact that they polymorph got there first does not take away the fact that he knew right where to find her. Aelita is able to tell Jeremie about from his double because as she puts it the real Jeremie “Would not have kissed her like that” some take this to mean its’ because the clone kissed her without having consent and she knows that the real Jeremie would not use kissing her as a weapon to gain her trust. Wether you agree with that interpretation is up for you to decide.At the end of the episode guess what? Aelita and Jeremie both share their first onscreen, no X.A.N.A shenanigans, no ulterior motive behind it kiss with each other and it is beautiful. It’s even the trope image for “Post-Kiss Catatonia”.

(I would’ve put a screencap but it must be viewed in all its gif glory)

(Here’s a screencap anyway)

(I just liked this shot)

In Franz Hopper, the titular man himself shows up in the lab one day and deactivates the five towers that were activated without having to set foot on Lyoko. He then vows to help the group defeat X.A.N.A by finding Aelita’s anti-virus. The next day is Jeremie’s birthday and it is revealed that he parents still want him to consider going to the school for gifted children that was previously mentioned in “Plagued” and has been keeping this quiet from his friends considering he doesn't have any intentions to leave them. What follows after his dad call is a cute scene were his friends all wish him a happy birthday and he is given a cute drawing by Odd as a gift.

(Cute)

They then all go the factory to meet up with Franz who is shocked that they have been using the scanners to go to Lyoko as it is a “very dangerous procedure with serious side-effects such as cell degeneration”. Ulrich and Odd check out fine but Yumi is apparently suffered cell degeneration in her brain. The others upset about Yumi and most likely wanting a scapegoat pic on Jeremie as he is the “brains of the operation”and Franz names him the one who let “X.A.N.A destroy my(meaning Franz’s)diary”. This is not true, Jeremie didn’t “let”X.A.N.A destroy the diary. X.A.N.A took over his body and made him do it. Everyone except Aelita treats him horribly and his role as operator is taken over by Franz during their mission to supposedly get the data to program the anti-virus for Aelita. Jeremie points out it in unfair he is being blamed and that they all decided to be in this together(which I point out in part 1 they did). Upset at being treated this way and having had enough Jeremie agrees to switch schools and calls his dad to take him the next day. He realizes while sitting in his room that there’s no real the real Hopper could’ve known about the diary. Only him and his friends knew. That leaves only the one who did the crime in the the first place:X.A.N.A! Forgetting his anger, Jeremie goes to rescue his friends. He stops Aelita before she can be virtualized into Franz-X.AN.A’s trap and sends the Scyphozoa a decoy of Aelita instead which gives it indigestion. Then he trolls Franz-X.AN.A and fixes the damage X.A.N.A did to his friends on Lyoko. The tower is deactivated and the next day Jeremie assures his friends that is not angry with them and that Yumi never suffered from cellular degeneration.Jeremie immediately letting go of his anger at the way he was treated and being blamed for something that wasn’t even true the minute he found out his friends were in danger is a great show of how big this kid’s heart is. When he dad comes to pick him up he declines and instead elects to stay at Kadic with his friends. When Jeremie states his father is great, Ulrich states “like father, like son” and honestly I couldn’t agree more.

(D’awwwwww... again)

In The Key, following the revelation that Aelita is not an A.i but a human being, the girl develops a complex about her humanity and anger towards her father Franz Hopper for taking her life from her, shuts down the Supercomputer thus killing herself. However, Jeremie realizing the computer is not responding goes to the factory and finds her and is able to revive her from her attempted suicide. He comforts her while cradling her in his arms and tells her that they will save the world from X.A.N.A together and then she can start a whole new life.

(Sniffs)

Having a suicidal friend/partner/family member is not easy, not matter how old you are but, the fact that this 12(well 13 now)year old boy was able to handle that kind of situation and talk her out of any more attempts on her life is impressive to me. When Aelita is saved by her father after having all her memory stolen by the Scyphozoa when she returns to Earth, Jeremie catches her and pulls her into a comforting hug,

(Stop making me cry episode!)

Jeremie later assures the other that while X,A.N.A may be free he’s not giving up and that he feels X.A.N.A is not invincible. He also assures Aelita that fighting X.A.N.A is not her job alone and that it’s there job. He then initiates a circle of friendship hand hold and the season concludes on that.

(If I don't stop crying I'll ruin my computer)

The fact that Jeremie, one of the least social of the Lyoko Warriors initiated the hand hold gets me every time. Well that’s it for season 2!

(What I’m going to attempt do now(meaning going to sleep)

Part 3 will come...eventually

#Code Lyoko #code lyoko essay #jerlita #jeremie belpois #jeremy belpois #aelita stones #aelita hopper #aelita schaffer #jeremie #aelita #Jeremy x Aelita #jeremie x aelita

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rebelincdk · 3 years

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Oh, my God...

I'm having a rather interesting debate in the comments section, on a slightly "blasphemous" cartoon drawing, on Facebook. These christian people – I will not name – reveals not to have a strong ability for rational thinking, and have a hard time distinguishing between facts and jokes, i.e. claimed that I was some kind of believer in witchcraft, because I have stated that I was educated at Hogwarts. Take a few seconds to let that sink in. Now you get the level.

Usually I try to avoid these kind of fruitless debates with people living in their own awkward fantasy universe, but in this case it has been aiding me in a direction, that might make me more capable of understanding why the world is in the state it is in.

That kind of people generally makes a few weird assumptions, primarily trying to monopolise love, compassion and moral standards, and putting them into a box with some "family values", blasphemy-phobia, homophobia, and condemnation, without any rational explanation. Welcome down the rabbit hole!

One: They often claim that there's a relation between morals, love and their superstition. You know, like saying that only people with a specific conviction are fitted with emotions and a moral compass.

I'll leave it to the history geeks, and people with some life experience, to have a field day with this argument.

In this particular thread I have been accused of condoling child pornography, because I find it funny that a priest has a hard time nailing Jesus to a cross (IKEA-style).

So some of them actually believe that their own superstition is the only defence against the evils of the world. And they believe that blasphemy is linked to harmfull behaviour, in some way. I should find it hilarious, but it actually makes me sad. It means that they are trapped in this cirkle of misguided bullshit.

Two: Referring to the number of people believing, as a proof of being right. That makes God present and true in the US, and not true in the Scandinavian countries. So God has a limited territory, and is subject to democratic realities. I don't even know how to respond to that.

Three: As a wise man said "Believing in the Bible will make you a believer, actually reading the Bible will make you an atheist". Many of these christians squeezes their faith into the moral values of their surroundings and present life. Jesus was – according to the gospels found in the Bible – a rebel, who would forgive the traitors and sinners, hang out with prostitutes, vandalise the temple, living a very humble life, and claiming to be the son of God. He never condemned anyone to hell (the concept of hell is actually not mentioned in the gospels), and he did not conform to the predominant family values of the time and place. But it is common among religious fanatics to use their faith as an argument for traditional family values, and against prostitution, premarital sex, and a number of other things, that reveals that they have read the gospels with a preconceived opinion.

Every time I read the gospels I think "Wow – this could make a GREAT religion, if the world needed one!" But sadly, even the gospels could have made a religion focused on the open mind, tolerance and forgiveness of the Jesus myth, it has been turned upside down, ever since the Romans took over the religion: Crusades, inquisition, witch hunts, conquistadors, and so on.

I'll make a short detour here, on the subject of prostitutes, as it is quite interesting. If we follow the mindset of this Jesus character, he would (according to the chosen gospels) hang out with prostitutes, even pointing out one as no more sinful than her persecutors, and thereby saving her life. I can not think that Jesus would condole prostitution. That would just be odd. But embracing the people living a misguided life was right up his alley. That is actually characteristically for the legend about Jesus: Embracing instead of condemning. Setting an example instead of blaming. I actually fail to find a single line in the gospels that claims he tried to make them turn away from prostitution.

So if we take this line of thinking into a different context: How to deal with an alcoholic. Sit down and have a drink with him. Befriend him, and show – by example – how life can be improved by drinking in moderation, as blaming and condemning will only have an alienating effect. And behold: Most people working with addicts actually confirms that this is the only way that works. No shit, Sherlock?

Four: Many of them claim that God makes them do good things for the world. Well... Atheist – for example making up the vast majority of the people involved with Doctors Without Borders – do good as well, without the "divine inspiration". As the world shows good people do good things, with or without God. Even good religious people, loosing their faith, continue to do good things (but with a slightly more open mind).

Faith in God has no more claim to charitable behaviour than it has to love.

Five: Many of them claim that rituals are bound to religion. Rituals are – often – a healthy psychological act, but all they see is idolatry, hidden faith or witchcraft.

Six: In their twisted minds many of them compare religion with science, or see a conflict between them. That's like comparing colour with size; it doesn't make any sense. Religion is a faith in a phantom, often referring to books that are very seldom updated and edited to reflect the progress of knowledge and society. Science is simply the collection of our rational observations, and are updated every time we find flaws, at a rate of more than 10.000 a day (if we count all scientific fields). It happens ever so often that science will prove the religious books wrong, simply because the religious books are venturing into areas where they have no function, like human history or natural history. It's like a professor of psychology doing heart surgery.

If the religious books – and priests – would just keep to moral guidance all would be fine and dandy, and this argument, or weird comparison, would never be an issue.

Unfortunately they do overlap in one context: The mind. Science dictates an open mind, and religion dictates a closed mind, when it comes to examination. A scientist will accept criticism, or ridicule, with joy and curiosity, while a religious fanatic will often be offended and defensive.

Seven: When the romans took over christianity they mixed it up with the ancient greek concepts of hell and condemnation. If he could, Jesus would rotate in his grave with frustration, I'm sure. Suppressing people with alternating values or natures, such as homosexuals, rock'n'roll fans, premarital sex, and people with different faiths is not suited for people claiming to believe in an all loving, caring, forgiving God. But so it went, in so many cases.

And this makes these seven points the "seven mortal sins" of a large group of christians: They have turned christianity into a tool of evil. Sending their homosexual sons off to "rehabilitation", condemning certain kinds of cultural expression, keeping their children from medical treatment, blowing up abortion clinics, etc. – added to the long bloody history of genocide and persecutions.

But worst of all, there is even a point eight:

Eight: The world is a miraculous place, full of amazing wonders. Every grain of sand, every wave, every breath of fresh air, every tone, every colour, every life, and every BigMac is a wonder. A true miracle! The probability of you being alive, as a result of many millions of generations living long enough to breed with success, on this inhabitable planet, is mind-blowing. You, and everything that surrounds you, are such a miracle that it is impossible to wrap your head around it.

Many of these people claim that it is not a miracle at all, but was simply planed and executed by a higher being. On top of that they try to monopolise the concept of "miracles".

Simple people need simple explanations...

So should we detain them, and maybe eradicate them? Oh, no, that's THEIR way, and we are better than that! We have to treat them with a concept they talk about, but rarely put into practise: Compassion.

Loving my cat doesn't make me love everything it leaves on my doorstep. Compassion for a person doesn't mean that you should condole – or accept – their faith, especially not when it is used for suppression. Keep them in the friend zone, show them, by example, the benefits of a life based on rational thinking, keep an eye on their children, so you can pull them away in case the parents commits some form of abuse.

Thankfully, even some change religion, and some religious people see that as a marker of their succes, truth is that fewer and fewer people in this world are religious, and in some distant future our descendants will live in a world where it is a thing of the past, to be puzzled about.

Like with ancient greek and mayan religions, people will scratch their heads, asking "how could they believe THAT???"

Please note that I have only discussed the gospels that made their way into the Bible. There are many other gospels ("apocryphal") with deviating stories of Jesus of Nazareth, claiming, for example, that he was a prophet (not the son of God), that Mary Magdalene was his "companion" (spouse), and not a prostitute, that he was not resurrected, and so on.

Neither have I dived into the wide array of other texts that make up the Bible, as they are so messy and contradictory, that they don't actually make any sense to discuss. In them you can find arguments both for and against almost anything, from animal sacrifices to pedophilia and slavery. The God portrayed in the old testament is racist, vicious, vengeful and petty, in stark contrast to the conception of God presented in the gospels. You simply can not claim to believe in – or follow – the Bible in its entirety, as you would then be suffering from severe split personality disorder.

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