#tell her solutions for that and then shes working herself up so i work thru calming down and she goes from | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeydots · 4 years

Note

127 with shuake would be good.

"My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep."

once again. didnt forget abt these. im working thru em.

Summary: Goro wakes up one day in a hospital bed with only a bullet wound to keep him company, and not a single memory of who he used to be.

(ao3 link)

He was almost certain the last few weeks had been a dream.

Or maybe, several long and white coated dreams. The kinds with bright lights at an arm's length, and ill-fitting clothes, and men coming in waves carrying their clipboards as flags. With deep voices all at once whispering, echoing, “what is your name?”

Maybe he was in a hospital.

His first day of full consciousness was slow and lonely. His second day too, time spent wiggling his toes and counting ceiling spots. Day three he asked for a glass of water and scared a nurse out of her skin, and his week was kickstarted. Which only really meant an actual doctor came in and declared retrograde amnesia the only explanation for his condition.

His “condition” was quite the word to use. Which condition? They could play bingo. Was it his memory loss (obvious, weak narrative), or could it have been the state of comatose he’d been in (intriguing), or even the bullet wound (now here was a mystery, what a plotline) he’d heard remarkably little about? Amnesia, the fickle bastard, was the type to bring one answer to dinner, and disappear by morning.

But what did he know?

Well, he knew that this was a pretty shitty hospital. As far as how he assumed they should be managed, this one was on a low tier. And according to the nurse, as was their police station. Incompetent, and uncaring of his case, which had apparently been made.

It’d been a week now. He could get up. Limited, with his IV, but he could. The nurse said later that maybe the police would listen to him now, since he was conscious, basically up and kicking. ‘Listen to him now,’ was also an interesting phrase, because he hadn’t been speaking in the first place.

He wasn’t injured. His vitals were fine, the nurses had told him, and commented he was taking up an unnecessary bed. Not that he could actually make any kind of sound argument, which was frustrating enough on its own, but this didn’t seem like proper procedure.

He was, once again, very alone in his room. He thought about going to the police station. Incompetent as they may be, there would be no answers here. There was no one here to help him; some healthy boy in a hospital bed.

He got up. His IV was stuck in poorly, the tape just barely holding on. They’d disconnected him from all sorts of machines. Nothing was roping him down except for saline solution and his own two feet.

And, he was already standing.

It wasn’t hard to pull out.

His hospital gown was tied all the way down, falling just past his knees. He had odd socks on, their texture was weird, and they were several sizes too big. They were thick and patterned, maybe slip proof? But shoeless as he was, they would do.

The hallway was very empty. He was on the ground floor, but he wasn’t sure there were other stories. Maybe one, or a basement. It didn’t matter much. There just wasn’t anyone around. His concern was in that he didn’t know how long their absence would last.

There was a glass door at the end of the hallway.

To the police he’d go. A medical bill dodging amnesiac would probably get him some attention. Enough to get a name?

The door was not locked. That was probably good, for a hospital, and not a security breach, which is where his mind had initially gone.

Doors are meant to be opened, he thought. There really isn’t anything wrong with that.

It was just a little bright outside. The sun was up but not too far. He was in the parking lot, and it was almost entirely devoid of cars. Small, small hospital.

He didn’t exactly have a map, and no nurse was around to give him any condescending directions. He’d might as well go forward, then. He started walking, and thought to himself how odd his feet felt on the concrete.

No one was out. He hesitated to call it deserted, just maybe a bit early. He kept walking, nerves high, still worried he might get mauled by a stray doctor.

It seemed like this was a very small town, going by his surroundings. Lots of trees, and cracked roads, and old buildings. He didn’t think much of taking it all in. He’d have time for sightseeing when he remembered his initials.

A bit farther ahead was a woman, leaning on a car parked on the side of the road. She was glaring down at her phone. She looked— maybe irritated? Or tired. He wondered if he could ask her for directions. An aimless stroll through town wouldn’t take him to where he was going, after all.

“Excuse me,” he called, “Ma’am? Do you know the way to the police station?” He approached her with just enough caution to call it looking out for himself, ignoring the sorry state he was already in.

She glanced up from her phone. Her hair was short, and dark, and it bobbed around her face. She registered him for a moment, and her eyes went big.

“Holy shit.”

He knew enough to know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I need to go to the police, please.”

The woman kept staring at him. “You—” she stuttered, “are you Goro Akechi? You are, aren’t you?”

This encounter was already going awry. Did she know him? “Do you know me?”

“Uh…I mean, no, we’ve never met.” She pushed herself off her car, and slowly put her phone back into her pocket.

That wasn’t really what he meant. He needed to persist, here. This could be a lucky hit. “No I— Do you know who I am?”

Blatant confusion spread across her face. “Uh… Are you not Goro Akechi?”

“I don’t know,” he answered.

She stared at him again, almost suspicious. Then she looked him up and down.

“Are you… coming from the hospital?”

“Yes.” He watched her mouth open just a bit in disbelief. He wondered how this woman knew him. If explaining would get more information out of her, then he’d do it. Privacy only existed when you had something to protect, after all. “I’ve been given an amnesiac diagnosis, you see. I’m going to the police station to see if I can find any sort of lead on myself.”

She looked shocked. “Amnesia? And you’re going to the cops?” She blinked, and suddenly looked very serious. She grabbed one of his shoulders. “Wait. That’s bad news. Don’t go to the police.”

He (Goro?) hadn’t expected to hear that.“What? And why shouldn’t I?”

“You… holy shit, kid, do you actually have amnesia?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen you need to— oh good god, this is gonna sound like I’m trying to kidnap you— I definitely know who you are. I can tell you but we shouldn’t… here. If someone finds you… ” She exhaled hard, and looked him dead on. It made Goro freeze. “Fuck, okay. The gist of it is— you’re in more danger than you realize. Like, a lot more. Will you come talk with me in my car?”

Alright. So, a lot to process, and a lot he didn’t know how to. He didn’t even know if he should process it, or if that was the kind of story that should be immediately disregarded. Someone telling you to not go to the police and please get in their car seemed like a textbook stranger-danger red flag. There had been something uneasy about her tone, though. Like genuine concern— not that such a thing couldn’t be perfected and acted, however.

But she’d given him a name. And it felt almost tangible, the more he thought about it. Less bendable and more sturdy. It was very easy to attach to himself. And it was a lead, wasn’t it?

“Hey, did you get discharged, or are you just wandering around? Cause they’re gonna be looking for you if they didn’t let you out,” said the woman, jump starting Goro (almost certainly, Goro) out of his head. “And kid, I cannot just let you turn yourself in to the cops.”

‘Turn myself in,’ he thought to himself. Such particular wording. It made his stomach drop. This woman knew more than him, clearly. And really, for fucks sake, if he died, he died. Obviously he hadn’t left enough of a mark on anyone to warrant not a single visitor during a five year coma. According to the nurses, it was more evident that he’d simply been dumped in town— like someone had already been trying to get rid of him.

Well, whoever they were, they’d forgotten to bury his bones.

He straightened himself up. “Okay.”

She looked surprised, at first. She swallowed around it. “...Yep, okay then. Hop in before you change your mind.” She popped open her car door, and Goro circled around the side and followed suit.

Her car was messy. It was filled with food wrappers and empty bottles, but papers and notebooks were scattered around, too. So she kept busy, it seemed. He decided he’d consider this a point in the not-about-to-murder-you direction. Too much here that could be used as evidence against her. Too personalized. He was almost envious.

She adjusted her seat forwards and turned on the ignition. She was a bit jittery, Goro noticed, as she scratched the back of her head vigorously.

“So, I’m gonna drive us somewhere that isn’t here but I can talk and drive so, just— like, just a second, okay?”

He nodded. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “...Goddamn,” she muttered, and then pressed down on the gas, turning her car onto the barren road.

She kept her eyes forward, but kept true to her promise of talking. She sighed. “Right. So, uh, to start… Okay, first, my name’s Ichiko Ohya, I’m a journalist. Get that cleared away. Next comes you which is a bit more complicated, but you probably wanna know why we’re dodging cops so I’ll start there. Or, as close to there as I can.”

He would take anything he could get from her, actually. The cops situation was undeniably concerning, but right now he was essentially a sentient empty shell, absorbing everything for the first time. A kid in a metaphorical candy store, but the store was a dodgy reporter who still might be kidnapping him and just stalling. He’d call himself the kid, but it dawned on him he didn’t even know how old he was. Fantastic. More things the hospital staff hadn’t bothered to tell him.

“Your name’s Goro Akechi. I told you that already but, that’s you. At least I’m like, ninety percent sure.” She spared him a glance. “You do look a bit different but all in all I’m— I’m pretty sure. Just the hair and the stubble, you know.”

Goro hadn’t exactly looked in a mirror recently, so no, he didn’t know. He knew he had long hair— certainly longer than Ohya’s. He rubbed his jaw and felt the rough and gritty bristles that had prickled onto him. It bothered him that he didn’t know. It bothered him that he didn’t know what he looked like.

Ohya continued, not letting him dwell for long. “You’re also sort of famous. Well, you were, and it was mainly with teenagers and moms in the city, but you were a popular detective. So, that’s how I know you. And I swear I’m getting to the running from cops part, but you have to know this first first. Oh, shit, it’s right here.” She took a sharp turn into a grocery store, and Goro had to grip the side to keep steady in his seat.

She didn’t act very sheepish about it. “Sorry, for that. We’re gonna talk in here.”

She paused her explanation to pull into a spot, which Goro felt a little thankful for because, under his circumstances, that felt like a lot of information to take in. He was well known, but not well known enough that anyone out here knew him. ‘Famous detective’ raised some weird alarms in his head, a position absurd enough that it might be true. It felt unfortunately right, like a disappointing truth. It was different from his name, more unwelcome. But it didn’t click either. Nothing had been clicking at all.

There was a pit growing in his stomach, like something was in there, chewing down on his insides. But he’d found he didn’t care for ignorance, so he would put up with it for as long as it took.

Ohya turned her car off, pushed her seat away from the wheel, and got herself comfortable. She faced him, nonchalant but sincere. “So this is where the really juicy stuff comes in, alright? So like, listen up now, if you weren’t.” There was something very serious about her eyes.

As if he’d have let any of her explanation slip under his radar. “I’m listening.”

That was a good enough answer for her, it seemed.

“I’m trying to think of the best way to explain this, honestly,” she started, thumbing the back of her hand. “You… okay, there was this guy. He was a really big politician that you were involved with, and it’s kind of a gray area as far as what you were doing for him, but you and him worked together. Kind of. He was a really shitty guy.”

She looked like she was considering her words. She turned her focus out the windshield for a moment, and sighed again. “He basically ended up confessing because this group— well, actually, they don’t matter right now. He confessed, and he talked about you. For some of it. It was a long fucking confession. But half of what he said wasn’t even coherent. He was talking about some crazy shit and no one knows what he meant by it. You were part of that whole section.” She paused again, thinking. Goro let the silence sit. He didn’t want to jump to a conclusion until he’d heard her out. Which was proving difficult, truthfully, because this all left a sour taste in his mouth, one that had almost certainly been there before.

“They wanted to take you in for questioning, but you disappeared. And, to add fuel to the fire, they were having a hard time getting any actual concrete evidence,” she began. “Can’t make an arrest based on a confession alone. He did other things, too, and that's what he ended up being indicted for, but there's still that problem. This whole chunk of confession is still there that technically lines up with his timeline of events, but there’s no way to prove it. That’s why they want you,” Ohya’s expression darkened. “At least, publicly, that’s why they want you.”

She readjusted in her seat again. She faced him fully. “This guy— Shido’s his name— he’s got goons. Not to mention, he had complete control over the police, and there are other higher up’s who worked with him. Some of those guys got busted with Shido’s confession, but there’s a few where there just isn’t enough evidence to put ‘em away. These are the ones who you need to watch out for.” She took a deep breath, not finished.

“I’m gonna be frank with you,” she continued. “They want you dead. They don’t want a single loose end, and you’re still dangling. The police are on their side. Are you understanding me?”

Goro tried to let the words sink in. That was more than a lot to think about. The creature in his stomach was grinning now, he could tell. But, this was also no time to get overwhelmed. If her words were true— which, the overwrought familiarity of her explanation compelled him to trust them— he needed to keep his head above the water.

“So these— subordinates. You’re saying they’re after my life? They can’t be actively hunting me down, if they have the influence you’re implying, or I’d have been found by now,” Goro said, deciding to ignore the fear creeping up his spine. “So then, what’s my public status? How unlikely was it that I was the egoless comatose patient they were searching for?”

“Uh…” said Ohya, seeming like she was the stunned one. “Well, you’re right, they don’t really have a manhunt right now. I guess I don’t need to worry about beating around the bush here— you’re presumed dead.”

Interesting. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, furrowing his brow. “But, obviously, a body was never found. They’re probably prioritizing morgues then, not hospitals. That does explain why I wasn’t discovered after all this time.” Though, if they’re smart, they’d also keep an eye on cases like his. They probably were, in fact. He’d gotten lucky that the police here were clueless.

Ohya gave him a very funny look. “You know, it’s almost creepy how well you’re taking this. You were in a coma this whole time?” She shook her head. “I’d have thought you’d be more out of it, honestly.”

“Is this not what you’d consider a wake-up call? I’ve been ‘out of it’ for a week. It’s common sense that I’d react like this,” he told her. Just going outside had cleared his head. He had a feeling hospitals had never been a fitting place for him. “Yes, I was in a coma,” he added, as an afterthought. “They said I’d been shot.”

Just as the words left his mouth, he realized the implications that had.

Ohya noticed just as fast. “You said shot?”

They’d certainly both had the same assumption— maybe an attempt had already been made after his life.

But there was something that felt wrong about that scenario, too. “I’m not… entirely sure it’s what you think it is,“ he replied. Maybe wrong wasn’t the correct word but, it wasn’t completely right either. “There’s no benefit to not making my body public. And, if they’re really after me, it seems messy, to say the least, that they didn’t finish the job properly.” He tried to speak confidently. The effort was familiar, too. Part of him wondered when he’d get the chance to do some self-analysis and tear himself apart.

Ohya caught on very quick, rolling with every punch Goro gave. “Christ, kid. What kind of shady shit were you into? So we’re thinking you’ve got another group after you?”

“I don’t know.”

He really didn’t. There were missing pieces, but that was evident. He had no end of missing pieces. If he was supposed to be some detective, then maybe he should get on with acting like it, and figure out whatever the hell this was.

Whatever business he’d wrapped himself into.

Ohya, again, spoke too quickly for Goro to finish digging through his own head.

“Maaan, I’ve really got myself into something haven’t I?” She rubbed her eyes, like she was already exhausted. “Look, I’m a busy woman. Don’t expect much out of me, but apparently I’ve got a bad habit of adopting puppies. So I’ll see if I can at least point you in the right direction, okay?”

He didn’t have much of another choice, other than to let himself be killed. He nodded again, not sure whether to call himself pleased or solemn.

She buzzed her lips and looked at him, obviously thinking. Then she opened her car door. “Well, okay. First things first, you gotta get some clothes, ‘cause you can’t go walking around like that. God, you don’t even have shoes…” She got out and stretched, and then turned back to him for one last comment. “Don’t expect much, okay? I’m not made of money. Don’t you dare go anywhere, either.”

She slammed the door shut and started walking into the store.

Goro was glad for the moment of peace. He let his jaw relax, closing his eyes. He hated how familiar the stress felt, and how desperate he was to welcome the feeling. A life or death promise was about as thrilling as one day should get.

Getting any memory back was his top priority. But he didn’t have an inkling of where to start. He didn’t have a phone, or a computer, and certainly not a home. He guessed he could use a public computer at a library, but just searching himself might raise more questions than answers. They’d be important questions, he was sure, but he wondered about the bias, the assumptions, the fact that it’d be an outside perspective looking in. He didn’t know how delicately he should go about regaining his memories.

Not to mention, he had only the word of a stranger and a low feeling in his stomach confirming he was even Goro Akechi. And now, with the reputation he’d had, if he even wanted to be him was questionable. Memories of such a life seemed… unpleasurable, at best, but he hadn’t set himself up to be able to just start over. Remembering his past was his best chance at plain old survival.

He wanted to have some kind of plan before Ohya came back, but he was drawing blanks. What he really needed was someone who knew him personally. Beyond media attention, if there was a single poor soul around who’d actually known him. He found himself doubting such an existence, past anyone who was out for his head.

He heard the car doors unlock, and he opened his eyes. Ohya was walking back with two bags, and she was on her phone again, barely looking where she was going. Well, there goes him having a plan. Bouncing ideas back and forth was the last thing he wanted to do. It was time wasted and he knew he would get frustrated, but his choices were limited. At least Ohya seemed pretty knowledgeable. It was possible she knew more than she was letting on, too.

She opened up the car door and tossed the bags onto his lap. “Hey,” she began, setting herself back into place, “I got your stuff but— I remembered something in there that might be a good starting place for you, if I can run that by ya.”

Or, of course, he could hear Ohya out and avoid idea bouncing all together. Something solid had come by much quicker than he thought.

*****

Ohya’s plan wasn’t bad at all.

She’d told him she had a contact from a few years ago, who was in charge of a bundle of self storage units. Apparently a certain “Goro Akechi” had registered himself one a couple months or so after Goro’s public disappearance. They’d told her once they noticed the name, but Ohya hadn’t taken up the lead at the time. When Goro asked why they’d even told her that, she left it at “no reason important,” and kept the topic adamantly off the table. Goro would push the envelope if it weren’t for the fact that his life (a life he didn’t even know he had, for the record, and one that still bothered him) was on the line.

If this unit did belong to him, there could be a very solid lead on himself in there, and leads on his acquaintances, too. Ohya didn’t know if the garage still existed, though. So she said she’d give them a call and see if they could figure something out.

Which is what led to Goro sitting in a barber’s chair. After he’d gotten dressed (an ensemble of sweats, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes) Ohya had commented that he looked like he belonged in a homeless shelter, and “really needed a haircut.”

She said something about how he’d always kept himself looking clean, and Goro believed it. He was already feeling discomfited the way he was. So unkempt and basically filthy. So, she decided that while she was getting her contact all in order, she’d pay for him getting a trim and a shave.

She was helping him more than he’d expected her to, in ways he didn’t really expect. But he’d take what he could get. He’d hardly had a reason to say no.

He sat waiting in front of a mirror. He hadn’t gotten a good look at himself until now, but god, she was right, he looked pretty fucking bad.

The first thought that came to him was sickly. Eyes sunken in, deep bags under his eyes. You wouldn’t expect him to have just been in a permanent state of slumber for the past five years. Or maybe the correct assumption would be, a coma hadn’t been enough sleep for him.

His hair was just below his shoulders, and he had a very pitiful looking beard. He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t think that would change much after his haircut, but it made him itch. It was a face that didn’t feel like his. He wanted to rip it off and replace it with a new one, one he knew better.

Maybe he’d never liked looking at his reflection.

Ohya had spoken to the barber for him. The one he got either wasn’t the talkative type, or really got his vibe of not wanting to speak to anyone. She went to work in silence, washing his hair with fruity shampoo and dressing him in a long black apron. That was all fine, albeit uncomfortable, but once she started cutting, Goro found he couldn't watch. The snips were loud, and definite, and it left his chest feeling tight. He couldn’t do anything but let his thoughts run blank.

He wondered if that was hair he’d had before his incident, now falling away. He’d have the same eyes, and organs, and teeth, too. But he felt all wrong in this body. Like it had gone on without him.

He was thankful when she moved to his beard. Just for a moment, though, because having someone so close to his face made him want to retreat as far back into himself as possible. A blade so close to his throat. He wondered how hard of a push it would take to make a cut. He wondered how deeply he’d have to go to make it bleed.

Maybe he’d always hated barbers, too.

When she’d announced she was finished, and Goro forced himself to look back in the mirror, it actually took him aback. It had taken years off him. She’d styled his bangs, and left no hair on his chin, but most importantly, it was clean. Soft looking. Pleasant.

It was almost enough to distract him from the discolored scar plastered on his forehead.

He stared for probably too long. His disheveled bangs had kept it clearly out of view on his first glance, but now that he was fresh and groomed, it pushed its way into the limelight. It was reddish, and almost shiny, and painstakingly circular.

He could feel dread bubbling up. He tore himself away from the mirror, and found an instant sense of relief when he wasn’t staring anymore.

Reflections and barbers. More to read into later, he supposed. He was learning he had been quite the hassle. What an annoyance.

Ohya met him at the entrance. Pure amusement was all over her face. “Shorter than I expected, but you’re looking pretty smart like that.” Her eyes went to his scar, but she made no comment on it. She frowned, but that was all.

Goro didn’t mind her reluctance on the topic. He raised his eyebrows, and spoke with the silent mutual understanding of “that is one gnarly goddamn scar” between them. “Ah, and I’m sure the sweatpants add to the look.”

“Watch it,” she snapped back, sliding into her usual demeanor. “Not like I could get you Levi’s, kid.”

She paid for his haircut, and out of the shop they went. They walked to the car in anticipating silence. She had her phone out again, texting someone now. Goro didn’t want to get his hopes up. Texting could mean anything, or nothing, or half of one or the other.

She pushed her seat back getting into the car, and pulled one leg up with her. Goro waited for her to speak, keeping himself tense. He really wouldn’t be able to loosen up if he tried, like a wound up doll who’d gotten stuck.

Ohya broke the quiet. “It’s still there.”

Goro sucked in, but didn’t let himself relax. Nothing ended there. It was one check off a list, but not all of them.

“And can we go in?”

Ohya blew air out of her mouth. “Well, she said she wants to make sure it's you, because there's only so many privacy laws she wants to break.” She shrugged at him. “But honestly, looking at you now, there's not a doubt in my mind you’re Goro Akechi. So, you can chill about it.”

He leaned back into his seat. The tensity had not left him. Something was making him lucky today, and he hated it. He would feel much more comfortable in the mitts of misfortune. But he couldn’t help feeling giddy, too. Like something was rubbing circles into his back, easing, but not erasing, bits and pieces of his concerns. It was something to focus on, and a goal to achieve. Above all, that relief made him feel pathetic.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go today or not, but you look more thrilled than I think I’ve ever seen you, so I’m just gonna take that as a yes.”

He hated the way she worded that. He frowned. “Only if you’re as concerned about my identity as you seemed to be earlier. You’re welcome to take your time, I’m surely not going anywhere.”

“You’re snarky! I never realized you had an attitude,” Ohya laughed.

She got the car going, and they were on their way to the unit. Apparently it was quite a ways, and Ohya advised him he’d better buckle in for a long one.

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He had things he wanted to think about, and questions he wanted to ask. Working up a tolerance to being active was not something that could be done in a day, but fuck if he wouldn’t try anyway.

But, despite how he tried to fight it, Goro fell asleep.

*****

He woke up when they were about ten minutes from the units. Ohya commented she’d thought it was a little funny that he’d been so exhausted doing just about nothing all day, but admitted too that his body was probably pretty weak, and he really should take it easy. As easy as he could, at least.

They were both quiet for the remainder of the drive. The sun was getting low now. They were passing by suburbs between grassy fields, driving past exit by exit. He had no idea how long they’d been going for. Ohya had called herself busy, and Goro believed it, so her continual help felt unusual. People weren’t just like this, he was almost sure.

She also knew things that felt… almost inappropriately relevant to him. The topic of the unit still tingled in the back of his mind. Why had they called her about his storage? And for that matter, why had she even known so much about him? The information she had felt intimate— like the results of a deep investigation. Had this all been yielded from that politician?

But Ohya had a distinct air of privacy. There could’ve been something personal about her aid, but Goro figured that she wouldn’t crack easily. It might be better to leave it— personal matters tended to yield lasting effects, after all. At least, he assumed so. He really wasn’t sure if that was as big of a plus as it appeared on the surface, though.

When the centre came into view, Goro let those thoughts ease into the back of his mind. He could focus on Ohya’s MO later. This was leaps and bounds more important to him; if anything was going to last, it was this. He could play detective, just like he was supposed to, and maybe come across some special clue. Perhaps he could test out his muscle memory and flex whatever skills he presumed he’d had.

They arrived, and it looked extremely closed. Like the only customers they’d been expecting were ghosts. The lights in the windows were off, and the gate guarding the units was shut tight. It wasn’t encouraging.

Ohya read his expression pretty clearly. She bumped his shoulder with her fist. “She knows we’re coming, my contact’s still here. The front just closes at 6:00. I’ll deal with it, so just stay put for now.”

And just as she said, after she hopped out of her car and approached the office, the door swiftly opened and a woman joined Ohya outside. The two of them seemed friendly. Goro watched as they talked, noting quizzically to himself that Ohya was someone who talked with her hands.

Ohya gestured to her car and they both looked over to Goro. He watched them walk over, and obeyed smartly when Ohya signaled him to roll down his window.

The woman peeked her head around to look at him, her eyebrows arched high. “Wow,” she said, completely staring now. “I mean, he looks like him, that’s for sure.”

Ohya grinned. “Sure does. That enough for you to let us in?” She didn’t really say it as a request, more like an expectation. Goro appreciated the tone.

She fiddled with her bottom lip. “Hmm. You said amnesia? He got any doctor's notes about that?” She asked, giving cue to Ohya’s sour expression.

“You didn’t say a word about notes

on the phone, you know.”

The contact clicked her tongue, and looked back to Goro. She bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed. “Just cause it’s you, Ohya, I’ll take that nasty scar on his forehead as my confirmation.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Come with me inside, I’ll get his key.”

Ohya made a haughty noise of achievement, and followed the woman back in. Goro rolled up the window again.

They were taking a little while. He rubbed at his scar absentmindedly. So obviously a bullet wound, maybe that had been the real reason his barber hadn’t made much conversation. Whoever tried to kill him had shot just where it counted. You don’t fire a warning shot into a head. He wondered if he’d deserved it, and doubted he didn’t.

Goro removed his hand when Ohya reemerged from the building, and she was looking confident. She slid back into her car and jingled the key to his unit victoriously. “Easy peasy. She’s gonna open the gate for us in a second. Your unit number is 508.”

They waited for a little while, nerves ever growing, until the automatic gates opened on their own, groaning and creaking until fully extended. Ohya started her car and drove in, squinting at the unit numbers in the low light.

Rows upon rows of garages awaited them. This must’ve been a pretty large lot, by the looks of things. The dirt road was the only uneven piece of scenery, the repetition was endless. He kept a watchful eye on the unit numbers, as well, skipping between the evens and the odds.

After a few right turns, and one very tight u-turn, they were there. 508 stood wedged between its neighbors, almost at the end of the row, but not quite. Not a thing stood out about it. It was just as gray and worn and untouched as the rest of the facility. Not even the dirt was remarkable. It reminded him of the hospital.

Ohya held the key out to Goro.

“I’m assuming you want this to be a ‘just you’ kinda thing?”

The gesture was something he should’ve expected, but didn’t. It made him hesitate for a moment.

He took the key. “I appreciate it,” he said.

“No sweat.”

He got out of her car, and she drove off to the end of the row. She stayed parked within general sight of the unit. It was essentially pseudo privacy, but neither of them knew how long he’d be in there, and who knows what this could trigger. Ohya also didn’t seem like she knew a thing about amnesia. He wouldn’t look to her for comfort of any sort, but there was reassurance in her being a safe figure.

He took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. This was his step one. He’d gotten himself into some deep shit, his past self hadn’t seemed to have a shred of self preservation in mind. Had he not encountered Ohya, he could’ve been dead by the hands of the crooks that call themselves the police by now. He had a lot more steps to cover, and each one would be riskier than the next. He was much more on his own than he realistically should’ve been. Most people had friends, as far as he knew. But this was seemingly his own fault. He wanted to know why exactly it was his fault.

One more deep breath.

He inserted the key into the lock, and grabbed the handle of the metal shutter. He pushed up, and with a squeak of rust and a bang of metal, he opened up his door to more dangerous times.

And it was nearly empty.

It was barren concrete. Newly disturbed dust was floating about. It was eerily quiet, and the stale air made his throat itch. Cobwebs stuck in the corners, barely visible in the low light of the setting sun. Though he wouldn’t call it underwhelming.

In the center of the floor was a cardboard box. About medium sized, without a lid. It matched well with the rest of the room, lined with dust and unaltered. He kneeled in front of it.

It was its contents that felt much more exciting. There were papers, lots of them. Thick manila envelopes full of information for him to flip through. He scooted back towards the entrance and pulled the box along with, trying to get the last of the light funneling in to help him read.

It was heavier than he expected, and he didn’t know how much to attribute that to his current lack of strength. He took out the first envelope and it, despite the dust, was clear and candid. When he flipped it around, he noticed with eagerness that there was writing on the front. He tried to make it out as clearly as he could, and in careful handwriting, it read: “05/21/2020— Case No. 1471”

It was a case file. He pulled out another envelope, and it was similarly marked. His interest was surely piqued. There must’ve been some sort of relevance to these, if they were going to be so pointedly left here. He pulled out a third, and then a fourth, and from the weight he’d expected many more. But, the pile ended there. Instead, what filled the rest of the box was another, smaller, wooden one.

He took it out delicately, gripping it securely around the sides to ensure he didn’t drop it. This seemed much more… personal. Shiny cherry wood, latched but not locked, just small enough to sit on his lap firmly. A thought that couldn’t help but be excited came to mind.

This could’ve belonged to me.

He wasted no time. He undid the latch, and it gave a satisfying click. The hinges creaked just barely as his clammy hands lifted the lid, and pulled all the way back, until it rested hanging by itself.

Inside sat more papers. Some were crisper than others, some had obviously been crumpled and then flattened out again. But there was consistency in each of them being folded neatly in half, stacked neatly on top of each other.

He picked up the one from the beginning of the pile, unfolded it, and was surprised to find it had hardly been written on; a simple “To you,” at the top. This was a candidate that had been clearly wadded up and discarded. He set it down carefully, and picked up the next.

This one hadn’t been written on much, either. It said even less, just “Hello.”

He picked up another, and another. It was all soft stationary, each topped with slightly different wordings, and some decorated with a couple lines, even. But they were all just about the same, a simple greeting, and then resigning.

They were letters. Or rather— drafts for one. So he’d learned today that he was indecisive, maybe a bit quick tempered, but potentially also at least organized. He assumed the existence of these drafts meant he’d never gotten around to sending his letter, either. And perhaps he’d never get such a chance, if this visit didn’t convince any muggy memories to creep out of their caves.

As he pulled out drafts and read his pathetic one-liners, he came across a page that was different. There was actually a fair amount of content on it, over a paragraph's worth. It had obviously also been cast aside, but even a spare scrap could be useful to him, in this state. He used the last of the remaining light to read it.

“To whom it may concern,

I would like to skip the inherent shamefulness of writing a letter to you, of all things, in my introduction, and I will title this ambiguously under the assumption that if you believe this does truly not concern you, that you will save me the mortification of reading through it anyways.

I won’t formally phrase this as a farewell, but you should take it as one.

Our unknowns are too great to write, and while you were not innocent, neither am I, and there are truths between the two of us that shouldn’t have remained unspoken. I’ve never thought to run from the blame.

My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you’re ready to sleep.

Perhaps a fact I recognized too late.

I do not want to say goodbye, however I—“

It cut off.

The letter left a lump in Goro’s throat. He read it through once more. He wanted to analyze each sentence down to its core, but the light had died out. But there were bits and pieces, words that suck out in his mind. “Farewell,” “Innocent,” “Unspoken.”

“Too late.”

Goro bit down on his lip hard. The case files— those he understood. With the life he’d allegedly lived and the people he’d known, of course something like that would be predominant. They were fact on paper, ignorant of bias, they’d be full of names and leads. They were important. But, he didn’t understand why these almost-letters had been left here. Out of anything that could’ve been kept. Had there been someone he’d felt so strongly for? To be kept in safety behind lock and key?

To identify this person— that could be his next goal to achieving his memories. To ignite the fire of their eventual reunion, and perhaps they could know what happened to him. They could come easy, though he suspected that anyone who he’d decided to be so rottenly open with wouldn’t be typical. But, they would also know him, past the media, past the appearances.

And, though he wasn’t going to admit it, he’d needed something more hopeful to work towards.

He put the papers back where they belonged, placed the entire case back into the cardboard box, and stacked the case files back atop it.

There was no telling how old these letters were. They could’ve been from much before his incident. But this set him up for a goal, a big one, that might get him back to whatever meager place he’d left himself in.

He picked up the box, and prepared himself to head back outside to Ohya. He needed to muster up his resolve, because this was only the first out of two very important clues this visit could provide.

He positioned the box onto his waist, and took one last look into the dark before closing up his unit. He returned to Ohya’s car, pulling open the door without so much as a greeting, and set the box on the floor in front of his seat.

Ohya leaned forward, interested. “That a box you got?”

He wasn’t going to talk about the embarrassing letters he found. Even if he wanted to, his second clue came first. “It’s not that important right now,” he lied. “Is your contact still here?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, but let the topic drop. “Sure is. She can’t leave ‘till we leave.”

Good. “I need to speak with her.”

She hummed in reply, seeming very curious by his idea. They drove back up to the entrance, Ohya not questioning his motives, but still giving him an inquiring side eye every so often.

They got out of the car together this time, and walked into the front office. The woman was reading behind the counter, almost completely in the dark, with only a desk lamp lighting her work area.

She glanced up at them, and placed her book upside down. “Hey there. You got that key?”

“Yes,” Goro replied. He placed it lightly on the counter. She took it without a word, and got up to put it back on its hook. Goro stopped her before she turned. “I have a question for you.”

She seemed a little surprised. She glanced between him and Ohya, and then put her free hand on her hip. “Okay?”

He hoped he could push his luck just a bit further today. He’d made it this far, after all.

“Is there any way I can see the documentation that was filed when this unit was made?” he asked.

The woman pursed her lips. “Ohya?”

Ohya put her hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me. This is all him.”

The woman stared at Goro. He stared back. This was arguably the most important part of the visit. He needed to see those papers. Just a single particular part, it was the one factor that needed an explanation. He would not leave until he got that documentation, and if he had to stand his ground and pull her leg a bit to get it, he would.

After their staring contest lasted just a moment too long, she folded her arms. “Jeez. Only because I feel bad for you, okay?” she huffed, turning on her heel. “And because my niece liked your food blog.”

She disappeared into the back of the office, leaving Goro feeling just a bit full of himself. He would think about the food blog comment later.

Ohya lightly punched his arm. “Okay, good going. But whatcha going to do with that?”

“There’s something I need to check,” he replied flatly. It made Ohya grunt unenthusiastically.

The woman returned with a few papers, all paper clipped together. She tossed them onto the counter. “This is a customer copy, okay? So feel free to keep it.” She glared at Ohya. “And, I’m going home now. So, get out, please.”

That got a laugh out of Ohya. “I know I can always count on you to bend a couple of rules for me.”

“Out.”

They left the building, Ohya waving her last goodbyes while Goro rushed to the car. He needed to get some light on these papers, it was long past sundown now. He slid himself into the car, clicked on one of the lights, and went to work reading, all while Ohya was still walking over.

Ohya opened her door and stood outside watching him, leaning on the frame. First, it was with interest, but it soon turned into irritation.

“Kid, tell me what you’re looking for. You’ve got your eyeballs all over that thing,” she said.

He didn’t let their conversation stop him from reading. He kept his eyes glued to the page, checking each word and box before moving on.

He did owe her an explanation. Getting his thoughts out would help him focus a bit, anyway.

“These sorts of things— storage units. Wouldn't they be paid for recurrently?”

Ohya went quiet for a moment. “They are,” she said, and joined him in the car. “Shit. Those funds can’t be coming from you, can they.”

“Exactly. I’m looking for the responsible billing party.” He turned onto the next page. None of the handwriting matched what he’d seen on his papers and files, which further confirmed to him that this unit hadn’t been one he’d purchased himself. Whoever this was had put all that information in there, those cases, those letters. He suspected they weren’t his mystery recipient, but he could confirm that with them once they’d met.

Why this had been done in his name, though, was beyond him.

He flipped onto the last page, and found his prize. Big black bolded letters asking for the responsible parties name, and neat penmanship filling in the blank.

“Sae Niijima,” he read aloud.

Ohya gawked.

“‘Sae Niijima?’ Seriously?” she scoffed to herself, and sunk down further in her seat. “She’s an attorney. A damn good one, too.”

An attorney? He wondered how she could’ve known him. “She’s the one paying, apparently.”

Ohya tapped long slender fingers onto her steering wheel again. She dropped her head. “Guess that means she’s our next lead, huh?”

Goro adjusted himself in his seat. “It does.”

“Ahh, man,” she complained. “You’re really somebody who’s in with the big guns, you know. You better let me have some exclusive with you after all this is done, or something.”

Goro gave way a hint of a smile. Probably his first since he’d woken up. If this would be the last of his luck, so be it. He hated to rely on something so shifty and mischievous, anyways. This was a start, barely a sprout, to whatever his big picture was. But he’d see himself to the very top.

Really, he’d already died once. Hardly a way to go but up.

“We’ll see.”

#thank u for the aaaask!!!#this is shuake but akira is actually not in it at all whatsoever #also im so sorry i know the ending is. unsatisfying.#i just realized if i wanted the most satisfying ending possible this would go from 8k to like 32k at least #maybe once i post all these prompts on ao3 ill consider adding chapters to this cause i do like the premise #this is also like. my first published non comedic piece. so a lot of this is experimental for myself #anyway i hope you enjoy!!!#my fics #ask #anonymous #my p5 fics

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tvlovesfandom · 4 years

Text

Mandalorian Season 1 Finale predictions

Or: how all those ‘Filler Episodes’ are foreshadowing the end of Season 1.

(Take 2 because tumblr ate the original)

Contains so many spoilers for The Mandalorian, Episodes 1 thru 7.

Aight, so.

Episode 7 of The Mandalorian walks up to you with a baseball bat and beats you over the head. It opens with Mando receiving a ‘plea for help’ from Greef Karga that raises more red flags than a Soviet Convention. While our protagonist can clearly see every single one of these red flags, the idea of getting the heat off his tail is just too tempting. Who can blame him?

Mando, proving to be Genre savvy, heads out, looking for backup.Of course, it all goes to hell anyway.

In Episode 7, we bring back characters from previous episodes and we also bring back certain aspects of Mando himself.

Hoo boy this is a long one. I’ll give you my best guesses for what goes down in Episode 8.

Episodes 1-3: The main plot line of course.

1-Greef Karga is a man of honor, same as Mando. His personal sense of honor is different than that of a Mandalorian of course, and it’s built around the Bounty hunter’s guild. But the honor is there, and it comes out in Episode 7.

(I find it really funny that Greef hasn’t repaired the hole in his jacket, FYI. Looks like he still has the beskar plates in there too.)

2-Kuiil and IG-11.

3-Episode 3 showed us that Mando can go on a rampage of destruction when he feels the need. It was not a heavily planned out rampage, clearly the plan was made up as he went along, but he is clearly a good improviser.

4-We were introduced to the Mandalorian clan on Navarro, even if it is pretty clearly stated that they’ve moved after Ep 3. Or were planning to before the Imperials rolled in.

5- Mando does have a short temper when he’s been having a rough go for a bit, look at him using his flamethrower to ‘negotiate’ with the Jawas.

6-He hates droids, but he is willing to work with one and can form something of a bond… not enough to let the droid kill a child though.

Episode 4: Hey look! It’s Cara Dune!

1-Episode 4 introduced us to Cara, and the fact that she and Mando can go toe to toe. The brief scene of her and Mando talking after their initial fight tells us a lot about her: She’s a shock trooper for the new republic, she was part of strike forces meant to take down Imperial warlords. She deserted when the republic set her to acting like a riot cop.

We see Cara as a no-nonsense fighter who knows the risks, and attempts to find the best solution. Look at her trying to get the villagers to move away after she learns about the AT-ST. But when spurred, she helps the fight and defend their home. She shows off her mettle, coming up with a plan on the fly and putting herself in danger to lure the AT-ST in.

When she comes back in Episode 7, we see her having fun with combat when it isn’t life or death. We also see that her and Mando can relax around each other and josh, as their arm-wrestling bout shows.

2-Episode 4′s ending was to emphasise to us that Mando can’t just leave the kid behind, that the baby is unsafe unless with a highly trained killer prepared to go to lengths to protect him.

3-In character building moments, we see Mando break his usual stoic nature to actually explain to first Omera, and then Cara, aspects of his culture. He turns out to be reasonably talkative when you’re not a bounty target or someone he distrusts! When Omera asked how long since he’d taken his helmet off in front of others, just the age he was would’ve been enough, but he adds more information about joining the Mandalorian clan unasked. Also, at the beginning of the episode, he makes a point to talk to the baby when it’s clearly demanding attention.

Episode 5: You know, initially I was going to say “uuuuhh… IDK”

1-MANDO CAN’T FIND WORK. He’s cut himself off from the only source of income that he’s familiar with. He has to take what’s offered, even if he knows it’s a bad idea.

2-Mando doesn’t have any way of keeping the baby safe when he’s working other than to lock him on the ship and hope for the best. He got really lucky with Pellli.

3-This episode reinforces again that the baby will be constantly hunted right from the opening scene.

4- We’re not done with Fennec Shand, I suspect. Or the person who found her body. Was it Moff Gideon? Maybe, though why would he have gone to find her himself?

5-This episode shows us what we might’ve forgotten from the opening of Episode 1: That Mando is actually a really competent Bounty Hunter overall. He has lots of tricks up his sleeve. Those flares were a chekov’s gun used within the same episode. Wonder if we’ll see them again.

Episode 6: Which buttons to press to piss off Mando.

1-Mando is really good at keeping his cool around people who are absolute motherfuckers to him.

2-Harass him, insult him, he doesn’t give a damn unless you actually try and start shit. He will end that. Don’t touch his things, don’t touch his kid.

3-Again this episode brings up that Mando is having to do work that he really doesn’t want to because he has few other options.

4-We see just how violent Mando gets on droids when he has the chance, but we also see how coldly calculating he is about them. To rope a droid, take it’s arm and use it to escape a cell like that? Damn impressive.

5-I can’t believe he didn’t kill those three who were on the prison ship with him. They’re out there, still alive. Just waiting to be brought back into the show.

6-We see that Mando knows how to turn the odds to his favor very quickly. We also see that he can go full on horror movie monster when he wants. He’s proving to be one hell of a Determinator.

7-Baby’s learning from the best! The fact that the little goblin can play hide and seek like that could easily come up! Honestly, that kid seems to understand more than you’d think.

SO! This brings us to episode SEVEN: What have we seen within the episode that calls back to the rest of the season? What predictions can we make based off what has happened, and the general style of the show?

Well, A couple very important things we’ve seen, some of which reinforces things brought up in previous episodes:

1-This episode makes it very clear that Mando KNOWS Greef’s offer is a trap, but he also knows that he’s running out of options. All those moments of him and baby being hunted down, all that effort to find work? That’s flashing through his brain as he considers this red-flag laden offer.

2-Baby can float? Wall-climb? He was hanging upside down from the ceiling SOMEHOW. Let’s add this on to his hiding abilities.

3-Baby can force choke a bitch.

4-Baby can heal a fatal injury.

5-Greef Karga, like Mando, cannot bring himself to betray a being that has saved his life. Lovely cinematic parallel there.

5-IG-11 is on Mando’s ship. According the Kuiil, the droid won’t attack people anymore, but it will defend. This droid has all the tools to lay some serious hate if sufficiently motivated though.

6-We see Mando relaxing and playing with Cara during the arm wrestling. He’s playfully competitive with her and joshes with her. Again, a good character moment.

7-Another character moment we see: Mando’s panic when he doesn’t know if the kid and Kuiil are safe. The stoic, self-contained man who doesn’t panic no matter how bad the odds is reduced to screaming into his comm, desperate for answers.

8-Kuiil introduces himself by name, and Mando uses it. It’s a small moment, but I suspect it’s light foreshadowing.

9- it is not for nothing that this episode opens straight up with a flashback to Episode 6. “You were hired to do a job. So do it. Isn’t that your code? Arn’t you a man of honor?”

ALRIGHT SO. SEASON FINALE PREDICTIONS. After I watch the finale I am going to see if any of these were right and I will be delighted if even a single one is accurate.

1-First and foremost, I think we WILL see the plot wrap up. Maybe not entirely, but by the end of Episode 8, we should see Mando and Baby reunited, and have a more-or-less happy ending to season 1. It’s fucking Disney, after all.

2- The fact that it was VERY SPECIFICALLY SHOWN that baby can heal fatal injuries in episode seven? Chekov’s gun, thank you, Kuiil is NOT DEAD. Yes, that scene narratively fits in because it’s what was needed for Greef to join the protagonist’s team, but I will feel cheated if we don’t see baby do more Force healing. If Kuiil is actually dead, someone else will be getting healed.

3-Mando’s helmet and how important it is that it isn’t removed comes up CONSTANTLY in season 1. I rather hope we don’t see it come off in the season finale, it is possible, but I do hope that they wait until at least season 2 before going there. There’s something else I’d like officialy revealed first.

4-And that thing I think should be revealed is Mando’s name. It’s something that he has yet to give out, accepting his culture as a title. Same as how Kuill corrected him in episode 7 when Mando called him Uganaught, it would be wonderful if some friend of our hero called him Mando again, and he simply said to them “I have a name. It is Dyn.”

Not only would that be a moment of reinforcement of how relaxed and friendly he can be around his allies, but I feel like it’s be satisfying from a narrative perspective.

5-In the trailers for the Mandalorian, there are only a few scenes or dialogue now that we have yet to see in the show:

-A-Mando comin out of a door and shooting a stormtrooper with Greef right behind him.

-B- Kuiil patting Mando’s shoulder while they’re in the cockpit of the Razorcrest (MORE PROOF THAT I AM RIGHT THAT HE’LL COME BACK. HELL YEA-Gonna be heartbroken if that was a deleted scene from ep 7) ((EDIT: Nope, that’s a scene from Ep 2. Damnit.))

-C- “Mandalorian… Look outside… they are waiting for you.” Aight so, Werner Herzog’s character seems to be dead… but he might not be! Maybe we’ll get some exposition from a dieing Imperial with nothing left to lose. Of course, it could be from a scene that they had planned out before deciding to kill off his character.

-D- Cara Dune being a badass and shooting with her big gun.- I mean yeah, to be expected.

-E- Mando clinging to a flying TIE fighter with his rappeling line and pulling himself up on to it. We see Moff Gideon look up to see a likely very pissed off Mando on the roof.

-F- Stormtroopers moving in on the Mandalorian Armourer.

(I actually gasped out “OH NO” at seeing this in the trailer. I honestly would’ve thought the Mandalorians would’ve relocated ASAP. ))

-G- This guy:

SO!

6-We’re definitely going to see the Mandalorian enclave again. My thoughts were that it was empty, but still hard to find, and Mando and friends were going to head there to have a few minutes to plan. They still might do that, but it’s not going to be an empty hallway like I would’ve thought.

7-I really hope that that brief cut of Stormtroopers moving in on the Mandalorian Armourer is not indicative of the clan being wiped out. Everyone go in being braced for it. I am going to be optimistic and say that Episode 3′s ending of the clan coming to our Protag’s rescue and being an absolute unstoppable force means that they’re going to help clear out the imperials, though there will be losses. Season 2′s overreaching plot will be helping the Enclave find a new place to settle down.

8-This does hint that Baby will meet the Clan. Will they continue to support Dyn, or will he be blamed from bringing this hellfire down on them?

9-IG-11 is going to come rain down HELL on those who took down Kuiil. He will likely pick up both Kuiil and the communicator and be an important link to Mando and crew remotely. Will he pilot the ship to pick up Mando and gang? Very likely yes.

10-Baby is gonna Force Choke a bitch. Hopefully Moff Gideon. I don’t expect baby’s efforts to be fatal, however.

11-Paz Vizla is going to be back in style. Is it too much to hope that, at some point, likely not Ep 8, him and Cara get into a “whose gun is bigger” match?

12- Baby’s going to be more than his imperial handlers know how to deal with.

That’s it for now. I’m sure at some point I’ll edit or reblog this with “AND ANOTHER THING.”

#mine #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian #I spent TWO DAYS on this post and Tumblr didn't put it in the tag for some reason #TUMBLR PLEASE PUT THIS IN THE MANDALORIAN TAG I BEG YOU

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datastate · 3 years

Note

☆♥️♦️☠️ for monomon!

this got long BWGMDJ sorry!! but ty for asking :]

☆ - happy headcanon

☆ : SHE HAPPY STIMS BY SINGING,,, or humming. she usually defaults to tunes she heard when she was younger or even sometimes a few she’s come up w but usually “never finds the time” to try to properly write out. like sure of course she could build a whole fucking telescope for lurien after hegemol’s gathered the materials she needed but switching over to do this for herself?? she already has like 80 other projects to work on for herself.

♥ - family headcanon

♥ : HMM ok. tbh i feel like she (loosely) considers most of the uomas n oomas her family, but if we were to go into specific Related Family, tbh i never really thought Much of it? all i really know monomon really began as no one special, and the only reason she’s got a mask is because she put herself forth with ideas and unn was like well, if you’re interested in helping rebuild your people on my land i (tentatively) trust you. she somewhat took on what role their own god left behind after receiving her mask, doing her best to preserve her people and the history of the areas around. (specifically hallownest bc people there r the main ones who offer to stay at the archive n help her out)

as for found family i really do think she considers quirrel, ze’mer, lurien n maybe unn(? if she’s willing? unn kind of becomes a mentor for her) as her closest friends!!! probably eventually herrah n hornet too, tho that’s cut off too soon by the dreamer project :[

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

♦ : for some reason the first thing i thought of when looking at this prompt is that she’d love dramatically retelling the bug equivalent of shakespeare, filling all the roles herself. this is not the only answer i’ll give but i feel as if it’s a thought i should share.

wrt hobbies, monomon really enjoys just... reading. or listening to someone else recount stories. she gets caught up in it, she’s like. the embodiment of that one post “time to absorb stimuli in a neurotypical way today / step one failed” BGHDSJ,, she just loves absorbing information, going thru new stories (fictional or not, tho she prefers nonfiction), and finding new viewpoints and ideas and it’s just all really interesting to her, getting to hear all of these different interpretations of the life they share (especially if she’s familiar with who the person is and what they dealt with in the past, how that influenced their view of the world)

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

☠ : i think she only gets angry when people dismiss her w/o even offering Any evidence for why they take a contrary stance to her. she’s completely fine having differing opinions and takes on things! she likes learning as much as most others in the archive, enjoys friendlier debates on things, and is fine w changing her views if she’s missed or misread info! it’s good so long as the other isn’t, you know, being a shitty person.

i’m gonna use tpk as an example bc he’s the most obvious one that i can think of atm: once he reveals the full scale of his plan, she will propose the "hollow” vessel that he ‘built’ isn’t actually hollow on the basis it clearly has a consciousness. he will deny this and once more iterate his vessel plan, you know, the one that Can Not Fail. she will try to bend for him because she respects him enough, saying, yes, i understand this is the only plan we’ve got that has a plausible solution, however i want to change it and find an actually hollow vessel so we aren’t forcing a person into this and we aren’t dooming our kingdom! he pretends to acknowledge her, only to dismiss her criticism and reiterate what ‘life’ she sees in it is simply the void’s mindless, longing effect, that it adapts out of his order and manipulation alone. she dares him to tell her what proof he has that the void itself isn’t alive. he loops his explanations again, refusing to acknowledge what facts she brings. she realizes it’s a hopeless endeavor, and chooses something more cutting, something she gathered from her time examining him (his desperation for this plan to work, if he’s so certain in flat out denying what she proposes) and the “vessel”: affirmation that she knows this vessel, whatever it is he’s taken and twisted, because it’s definitely not “just a construct” as he’s tried to excuse, has suffered enough.

she accepts the other’s stubbornness and outright refusal to even consider her point n she’s like hey well i’m good at figuring people out well enough to say fuck you, listen to me, i know what i’m talking about and if i’ve somehow missed something then you should tell me instead of acting like i’ve got the entire picture wrong.

if this is with someone that isn’t, you know, the literal god-king, and is just someone at the archive or whatever, she’ll probably just be like “well good luck finding another place because we won’t tolerate you / these types of views here.”

#long post #ask #Anonymous #hk posting

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dysperdis · 4 years

Text

tw: traumablogging, talking about suicide & abuse, sexual trauma.

I need to get this shit out, in one big chunk, before I lose track of it.

I keep wondering why the fuck Beru decided to spend so long treating me like shit. Do they just hate me? Was I just a convenient target? Did they realize they'd let their mask slip in front of me & decided I needed to go? Why did the abuse start so immediately?

Beru basically started moving in within a week after I said it wasn't fair of the two of them to jump straight into the "overly-obsessed new couple" stage of a relationship without so much as a heads up to the other two people involved with this relationship, long before I had any inkling that they were actually already fucking by that point. By week 3, the complaints were pouring in about how "unwelcome" I was making Beru feel by, say, insisting that they tell the other people living in the suite when they're going to spend the night before putting on their pyjamas and setting up on the couch, or letting me know to make food that Beru could eat without taking over the single bathroom in the house for most of the evening (& of course, they "didn't want to make extra work" by saying anything when I was asking them to simply let me know before I started making food!), or literally any frustration I expressed over my boundaries being ignored, all of which were delivered to me by Monica, not Beru, but very clearly as a result of Beru's complaints. I wasn't allowed to set any boundaries; I could be lying half dressed in my bed with Monica with the door shut having a conversation & Beru would invite themselves not just into the room or conversation, but *into my fucking bed* without so much as a word to me. These violations were constant, and at the same time I was pressured into doing more to facilitate the relationship, including chauffeuring the two of them around so they could go to Beru's apartment (did I mention yet that Beru lived alone, and could have been inviting Monica to visit them instead of invading my only available workspace & telling me that wanting to work there made me an asshole?)

The "sleepovers" happening at random most nights a week over that summer were undermining my ability to do any work for the upcoming events I was paying for table space at, space I shared with Beru because I wasn't confident of my own ability to fill a table & thought a "friend" might be able to help. I was explicitly told that wanting to work in the living room overnight for creative work when no one else was awake to use it was an unfair attempt to monopolize and dominate the suite's common space. Even after I asked Beru to spend time away from the home because I felt like the lack of boundaries was incredibly unhealthy for me, I still felt obliged to facilitate the relationship in ways that continued to deny me a chance to set any sort of healthy boundaries because of the previous months spent harping on how "unfair" I was being by expecting Monica to prioritize the relationship she was still referring to as her "Primary" relationship & the health of the partner she was calling "husband" over the happiness of her continuing affair with Beru.

I'm pretty sure I paid for 100% of all the tables, including the Canzine table Beru had entirely to themselves because I knew if I went I'd end up pulling out the zine I made to vent about how stressed I was about everything going on, and all of the gaslighting I was starting to notice even then but let myself ignore. I don't know if knowing the answers to any of this would help me, but it probably would help Monica, if it's not another thing she already knows and has been trying to deny while everything burns around her. But I'm not sure if I can ask without my bitterness making it sound like pure pettiness. I kinda wish I had gone to Canzine and taken the zine & let it all blow up then, I would have felt bad about it afterwards but I doubt it would have been anywhere near as terrible as I've been feeling for the last 2 years, but I wasn't willing to toss 6 years away for someone who only inserted themselves into our lives so substantially a few months prior.

When I told Monica about my discomfort, that I couldn't have this person involved in my life, she acted like she understood. She made a new friend during this time, and started visiting them "going out for coffee" a lot. She kept finding excuses for why I shouldn't worry about giving her a ride, and finally she admitted that it was because she was still seeing the person she had cheated on me with, and pressured me into agreeing that it was "incredibly unfair" to demand she either stop cheating, or stop pretending to respect our relationship. She told me she wanted to work on our relationship, while targetting my insecurities to convince me that expecting honesty and respect for my boundaries was abusive, and that I was overreacting. Throughout this time, I was gradually scheduling my life more and more around when Beru wanted to see Monica; the solution Beru, Monica, and Liz decided on for "letting me get Beru out of my life" was to continue seeing Beru while never mentioning their name, or giving me details I needed to know how to schedule my own day-to-day life. If you ever wanted to know how someone could participate in abuse without actually directly interacting with them, well, there's you're answer- you continue as a shadow presence in their life while your fellow abusers take all the direct action. And, every time the subject came up, Monica didn't actually want to break up with me, and agreed to "work on things" (tell me how I needed to forgive her & stop ~getting in the way of her happiness~, but also maybe planning 2 or 3 "date nights" with me before getting distracted & falling immediately back into the same habits. At some point, she started using the insecurities she had learned about me thru the years to start convincing me that I needed her, and that I wouldn't be able to survive without her. She knew exactly what fears to prey on, and I believed her. Meanwhile, Monica had a whole new circle of friends, who Beru has been telling that the reason I can't stand to be around them is jealousy or some shit. I thought I was imagining the distain in their voices when they realized I was there, but no- Beru has been telling lies to them about me, and Monica is too concerned with them liking Beru to intervene, so now she's surrounding herself with people who don't like me and are enouraging her to dislike me.

As for Liz, she pretended to be a neutral party throughout, shutting me down any time I tried to bring up concerns about the effect Beru's shadow presence in my life by telling me "she's Beru's friend, too" so it was inappropriate to talk to her about it- even when I had literally just tried to kill myself for the second time in 4 days. I had long ago noticed that Beru seemed to get upset any time word got back to them about me complaining about the various issues I had with their relationship with Monica & the implications of my own & that when that happened, Monica started taking it out on me; between that and a desire to "protect" Monica- who was slowly but surely picking up a lot of Beru's cruelty and boundary issues- from judgement because a) she was the one who was doing most of the direct harm, even the stuff that was clearly initiated by Beru, and 2) Beru has a bit more social padding to protect them (a cutesy autistic dfab enby vs a recently-transitioned trans woman with a history of ~scary~ mental illness DXs). So I stopped talking to friends about my issues. I'm not going to go into details about the boundary issues except to say that being surprise face-fucked the first time I tried to give head at 14 by a dude who was loudly disappointed I didn't swallow is no longer the most traumatic sexual violation I've experienced.

Meanwhile, Monica (and to a lesser extent, Liz) were encouraging me to distance myself from my last remaining safety net outside of that garbage fire of a relationship because the idea of coming out to anyone in my family made them uncomfortable. So, instead of dealing with it, they turned anything that involved me interacting with my family at the house for more than 5 or 10 minutes into a sign that my boundaries with my family were still too weak, and I needed to make them stronger. I needed to not talk to my elderly grandma because of how stressful it was for me (mostly because I kept having scramble to come up with more lies about so many details of my own relationship, because being honest with someone who had no way of outting them to anyone they'd care about even if they were inclined to do so was too uncomfortable.)

By the end of the relationship, when Liz walked out the door with less than 24 hours actual notice of her move out date (and no, a single spoken sentence a week before to a person who was between back-to-back suicide attempts, trying to keep track of a 3rd person in the convo who was bouncing rapidly between mania and an extreme suicidal state, and also on T3 & a bunch of antibiotics with harsh side effects does not fucking count, no matter how much she pretends otherwise,) someone tried to get me to see her side by asking me if it didn't make sense that she was avoiding actually giving me anything that resembled a reasonable amount of notice because she felt "awkward" talking to me, and I fucking snapped.

Maybe if she had sucked it up and had one or two of those "awkward conversations" a little earlier, I wouldn't have needed to ask her to hide the pills so I didn't go through with the plans I had made to kill myself that night (I was literally double checking my math on the dosages when she got home). Instead, she pretended to be a neutral bystander in her own relationship, while taking advantage of my subservience and inability to set boundaries in most situations. Most of the private time I sought out with Monica ended up including Liz because I felt I wasn't allowed to say no to that, either.

I was accused of driving away my support network by calling out Liz and saying that any other abuse apologists who wanted to defend Beru to me could piss off with her, but I strongly disagree. Considering Liz part of my support network was a dangerous mistake that could have gone much worse, if she had decided to stay out a little longer or something that night, or had snuck to her room without me noticing (a common occurrence, I had taken it as a sign that I was still taking up too much space by existing in the common spaces of the house.)

Basically, all three of them were fucking awful to me over the last 2 years, and used any negativity I displayed about the situations they were putting me in to beat me over the head, telling me how "unfair" I was.

#traumablogging

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mysimsloveaffair · 4 years

Text

Replies #2...

Oh wow! So many awesome comments 😍! To avoid clogging up your activities with my responses, here are my replies...

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Q is up, as usual, ready for his morning jog. When he returns home…he...”

omg it's already Alida's bday! time flies

I know...she’ll be an elder before long =(

nothingshyofaverage

replied to your photoset

“Alida: I thought you had a scene to film today. Michelle: I did, but I...”

Ughhh��

I know...I really wanted her to be a part of the wedding 😭

nothingshyofaverage

replied to your photoset

“I’m incredibly happy that Q is so understanding about me keeping my...”

Come thru sis! ��

😍😍😍 Always!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“In the bedroom, Lea doesn’t see a thing…but Peri obviously does....”

Hahaha she’s actually a good grandma! Who would have guessed?

Right! She’s sort of being pushed into it. Peri’s going to have to teach her because Lea is so unsure.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“It’s the middle of the night when we arrive back home to Oasis...”

Omg she doesn’t even know they’re married now

Yeah...there’s still a lot of distance in their relationship. Maybe they can bridge that gap.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“We all grab breakfast and head to the table. Alice: What do you want...”

She looks so sad tho :(

I know...Alice is basically ruining her plans

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“After we’re dressed and ready for the day…we join Alice and Q Sr. in...”

Look at this cutie! :D

Thanks! 😍

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“This whole trip has been like a honeymoon, so Q and I don’t have to go...”

Look at that! ��

😏😏😏

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“The D.J. interrupts his current song with an announcement… D.J.: This...”

��❤️

Thanks! 😍

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Knowing that Q is now my husband and that Mama Nadine played a part in...”

So beautiful and such a great song

Thanks so much!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“The violinist begins to play a version of If I Ain’t Got You and I...”

Gorgeous dress...so sad she’s not enjoying this tho

I know...losing Mama Nadine really brought her mood down =( She didn’t feel any better until they were actually married.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“It’s almost time for the ceremony. Q Jr. makes his way to the wedding...”

YESS! Love that hair on her

Thanks! It was first used on Mama Nadine so I thought it very fitting for Michelle to sport it as well!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alida: I can’t get married today… Michelle: That’s why I wanted to...”

Awwww ❤️that’s what they were talking about.

Yep! 😍

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alida: I thought you had a scene to film today. Michelle: I did, but I...”

Oh no!! :(

😭 I just needed her to last one more day

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I’m incredibly happy that Q is so understanding about me keeping my...”

Awwwwww she made it

She would give anything to make it to Alida’s special day!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I can see the hurt on his face. Quincy: You can’t or you don’t want...”

Tbh I never got this thing with women taking their husbands last names. Where I come from women keep their last names and men keep their last names. Their children have two last names (paternal surname and maternal surname).

That system actually makes a lot of sense! I like that.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I can see the hurt on his face. Quincy: You can’t or you don’t want...”

And why is it so important to you Q?

Tradition can be a bitch...

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Michelle calls back screaming into the phone once I make it into the...”

Hyphen it!

Yep...easy solution!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Meanwhile, Peri wakes up in a very talkative mood. Prosperity: We play...”

Oh Peri you have so much to learn lol

Right! Especially with two parents who work from home all day.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alice: If your news has anything to do with that big ring on your...”

This is gonna be so pretty!

!!!!!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I take the ring from him and stare at it. If I place it on my...”

Yaassss❤️❤️❤️❤️so happy for them

Thanks! I was holding my breath, because I honestly thought she’d say no. It’s not the first time that has happened in my game. lol

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Q steps in front of me and grabs my hands… Quincy: I mean…you become...”

Omg omg omg I can see where this is heading

😍😍😍

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“The bar-b-que is finally done. Q Sr. and I sit down at the nearby...”

Aww they have more in common than I thought

They do!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I think about what she’s said, but I need a bit more clarity if we’re...”

Im so happy they’re finally having a heart to heart. This was long overdue!

I agree!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“By the end of their conversation…Mama Nadine and Q are laughing and...”

She’s the best!

Thanks! I love her so much!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Quincy Jr.: *to Alice* Calm down…we can go to lunch to - Alice: Don’t...”

At the same time, Alice should respect the bond between Alida and Mama Nadine, and her dissing her like that is not cool at all

Yes...it was downright rude!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Quincy Jr.: *to Alice* Calm down…we can go to lunch to - Alice: Don’t...”

Tbh they both have a point. They could go visit Mama Nadine any other day. Alida shouldn’t stand in the mom/son relationship between Alice and Q and I actually think it’s a cute thing they go on an annual lunch together just the two of them

Alida may have been more understanding if Alice would have said it in another way. She was so abrasive.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Then she remembers that Roman wasn’t even half the man that Tamati...”

Yassssss ��

😍😍😍 I’m happy for them!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Back at Michelle’s place… Michelle pauses for just a moment before...”

Poor Michelle :(

I know =(

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Meanwhile, in Oasis Springs…Michelle and Tamati are finishing up a...”

Michelle is looking hoooot

Thanks!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“At the top of the hill is the most beautiful workout facility I’ve...”

Alida is gonna get ripped in no time!

She’s definitely working on it.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I rely heavily on my old hacking skills and eventually crack the code....”

That doesn’t look very legit lol

Nope - I still don’t know exactly what that was about! lol

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Although, I accept her apology…I’m not sure I trust the sincerity of...”

Wow, I didn’t expect Alice to be so reasonable. I hope she behaves accordingly

*snickers* We’ll see!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“We crawl up under the covers and end the first day of our trip the...”

A brother or sister for Peri?hmm

That seems to be on everybody’s mind - lol

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Q leads me to the bedroom and begins to undress down to his underwear....”

Q knows what to say xD

I think it’s his romantic trait =)

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Q steps over to me and pulls me into his arms once again. Quincy Jr.:...”

It’s so good that Q is taking her side on this

Yes...100%

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alice: Can you please tell your girlfriend not to curse around Peri?...”

Mah god, woman, can you take care of yourself own children or adopt some more if you wanna raise them? Let Q and Alida raise their children as they please

Yes...Alice is a mess...and she’s 100% annoying - lol

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I wake up from my nap and leave the bedroom. The first thing I see is...”

Omg true! :( she missed her daughters first time at the beach. She stole they moment from her. God I hate that woman

She’s so spiteful =(

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Peri enjoys playing in the sand very much. It doesn’t take her very...”

Shes so cute! I can’t ��

Thanks! 😍

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alice: No words for your gran-ny today? Anything? Prosperity: Ass!...”

KISS HER ASS GRAMS

Ha! lol

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alice takes Peri into the bedroom and begins trying to teach her to...”

This woman wants to raise Peri all by herself. She would kidnap her if she could.

I have no doubts about that!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I go to the bathroom attached to the room that Q and I are sharing....”

I suggest: “hey Q, is your mother a besh to everyone or does she hate me in particular?”

lol - She’s definitely had itchy moments in the past

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Q Sr.’s words seem to have hit a nerve. Alice gets up looking huffy...”

Sharing a roof with Alice for 2 months is gonna be HARD

It’ll take a lot of prayer and meditating - lol

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I sit down at the table as Q’s dad chimes in. Quincy Sr.: They have to...”

Hahaha “and suddenly I’m very tired” xD she can’t be bothered with this conversation anymore

😂

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alice: I hope you don’t mind me feeding her. She seemed like she was...”

So she’s right. But of course she could have been nicer (or perhaps offered to help earlier if she knows so much?)

Right! It’s the way she says things that tends to rub floks the wrong way

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alice: I hope you don’t mind me feeding her. She seemed like she was...”

Tbh Alice is right. You need to introduce new foods slowly. And be careful with salt etc. I have a 7 month old niece and I’m learning so much about that xD

Good point

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“His next words confirm it… Quincy: Well, I’m tired and I’m going to...”

Kind of reminds me of Alida when they first started dating. He wanted her to come clean and she did but then he prefers to act as if their life experiences growing up were the same? I get why Alida is a little mad here

I do too. She knew they were well off, but this is another level

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“His next words confirm it… Quincy: Well, I’m tired and I’m going to...”

Q can’t keep avoiding all the uncomfortable conversations...

Right!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Lea sighs and takes another look at a previously read message on her...”

So proud of these steps she’s taking!

Yes...I love to see characters grow and I definitely have plans for Lea

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Lea turns off the TV and goes into the bedroom. This is the nicest...”

�� seeing stuff from her perspective...it really helps understand her motives. I’m hopeful now

Yes! That was important to me!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“It’s been a few hours since Alida, her baby, and boyfriend left for...”

Im happy for her but I don’t trust her yet. I hope she doesn’t blow it

She has a bit of work to do to earn trust

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Claudia: So how are you enjoying motherhood so far? Alida: It’s...”

Oh no ��

Raul and Michelle have a lot of growing to do. They need to get to the bottom of their issues with each other.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Peri is overdue for a nap…luckily Michelle finishes her bedroom right...”

So pretty! Michelle did an amazing work

Thanks! Michelle has a good eye for design and makeup. She could have easily gone into fashion or interior decorating.

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Quincy: That’s not funny man. I’m not gonna let you insult my girl....”

That’s my Q! ��

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Alida: Private school? I hurry over to where Roman is sitting… Alida:...”

Lol Peri

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Q enters the house with Roman right behind him. He walks over to Peri...”

Kick him out NOW

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Meanwhile, after Q’s jog… Roman: What’s up Q! Quincy: Roe! What up...”

WHATTHEHELL

This whole situation was unplanned. I just happened to look into Q’s relationship panel and saw that he and Roman were good friends. I couldn’t resist adding him to the mix after that because I know Alida hates him so much!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“It’s 4 in the morning. Q and I are up to give Peri one last...”

Awwww she’s so cute!! ❤️

Thanks! 😍

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“Q lifts Peri out of the crib and cuddles her while I open up my...”

Yessss! She’s grown so much! So proud of her

Same here!

anotherplumbob

replied to your photoset

“I would love to hear more about that, but before I get a chance to ask...”

I have such a bad feeling about all this

😬😬😬

#anotherplumbob #nothingshyofaverage #replies

11 notes · View notes

poppytheorist · 5 years

Text

American Kids

1. I had “American Kids” on the August list. Sorry for the delay, “I was busy,” “better late than never,” etc. Already straying from my schedule, looks like September is off to a great start! Also, this one’s both dense and obtuse, my bad. Anywho, here are some words:

2. As is typical, let’s gush first: “American Kids” is easily the most thematically interesting song on Bubblebath. The production is also the tightest. I mean, do you hear this instrumental? You know what? I’m just gonna say it: “American Kids” is the best song on Bubblebath.

3. If you take some time to look at the lyrics, you’ll see that “American Kids” is actually a super weird song. Half the lines seem like their own random tangents, so it’s left up to listeners to piece everything together themselves.

4. When listeners are challenged to consider the connections between seemingly unconnected ideas, they are forced out of worn ruts and must instead open themselves up to possible associations they had never considered. Poppy challenges listeners this way all the time.

5. Genius tells me that “American Kids” is Poppy’s take on the ‘blame the millennial’ movement. Partially true, but that omits elements of Poppy’s disenchantment with the world and her struggle to break free of the music industry’s commercializing squeeze.

6. You’re best off analyzing lyrics yourself rather than using Genius. Genius readings are watered-down so they can be easily digested by anybody and everybody. So, they’re usually devoid of anything interesting. See also: fast food, Marvel movies.

7. Perhaps it’s best to think of “American Kids” as Poppy’s worldview presented as a mosaic, with each piece being one of Poppy’s thoughts crystallized in time. Or think of the song as Poppy Splatoon-style painting a picture of her worldview. Whichever analogy works best for you.

8. In “American Kids,” Poppy lays down a foundation for her future work to build off of. By looking at the underlying foundation, we can see how Poppy’s views have changed as she’s matured. “American Kids” lays a lot of groundwork, so it’ll take a bit longer to get through.

9. Since “American Kids” is so random and bizarre, we will first start by picking out specific threads. These are chains of ideas that link together. At the end, we will weave all these threads into one fabric. If your reading is good, each piece should mesh together nicely. If not, then-

10. “American Kids” kicks off with Poppy acknowledging the limitations of her worldview. She knows she is only exposed to specific information (“I live under a rock”), and she only has certain tools to process said information (“with a blacklight”).

11. From these lines we get a sense of Poppy’s self-awareness. She recognizes there is much she doesn't understand. Honestly, this self-aware hedging is pretty refreshing, especially considering the abundance of people these days endlessly blaring opinions that aren’t even theirs to begin with.

12. Poppy’s introspection continues with the line: “I’m a dumb pop star in my own right.” Again, Poppy understands how she appears. This line also relates an element of disgust, almost as if she has been forced to become something she grew up hating.

13. Reinforcing this notion is: “Sold my soul to the man with a handshake.” However, Poppy expresses her determination to still #DoSomething with her platform, to use it for Good (“Lost control but I don’t think it’s too late”). This idea is explored further by “In A Minute.”

14. Poppy also gives us the fun line, “Forever 21 is cool if I make it,” where she expresses the necessary fluidity of a pop star’s values. In such a role, she has to make sacrifices to succeed, like promoting products she doesn’t really believe in. If she doesn’t, someone else will.

15. Later in the song, Poppy mentions: “It never happened like they say.” In what ways do expectations differ from reality? The lines, “Started life at age 15, got ahead with fake IDs,” and “We’re dying young on broadcast news,” provide insight.

16. To even have a chance as a singer, Poppy had to get a headstart on the competition by starting at “age 15” and by finding ways to ‘break the rules’ (“fake IDs”). This adds to the sacrifices necessary to succeed in the ferociously competitive rat-race that is the music industry.

17. Overall, the first verse tells of the compromises Poppy has made to ‘make it’ as a pop-idol, and of the self-dissatisfaction she feels after making said compromises. The second verse expands on these ideas, telling us how she has separated herself from her old life to make her new life possible.

18. Poppy tells of how she has put distance between herself and her parents (“Last time I told mom that “I love you””), how she has given up aspects of her past life (“last time I ate food from a drive-thru”), and how she has abandoned her old possessions (“burned all my shit”).

19. Poppy also explains how she has forsaken her “teen regrets,” referring to them as a “trip wire.” Basically, any old emotional attachments or ‘what-ifs’ would only distract her and slow her down, so out of mind they go.

20. “I think my father might be gay but I don’t know” is a weird line. It does add to the idea of separating from the past, but it may seem odd that Poppy would even be concerned with her father’s sexual orientation, especially if you’re coming from AIAG.

21. This isn’t the first time Poppy touches on this topic. In “Software Upgrade,” there’s the line: “So come on, baby, tell me, are you gay?” If you compare Poppy’s old use of language to her more recent work like AIAG, you can see a clear progression of her views on identity and gender.

22. With the line, “Boys aren’t even boys anymore,” we see a concern with the absence of structure from the dissolution of traditional gender roles, but Poppy’s newer work (notably “Am I A Girl?”) embraces the freedom of increased individuality instead of decrying it.

23. Poppy ties the second verse to the first with lines like: “I should be everything you hate” and “I should be higher now than space but I’m static.” Again, Poppy emphasizes the self-loathing she feels after abandoning her values to succeed as a pop-star.

24. Before the first chorus comes, “Girls, let’s put on all of our clothes,” where Poppy plants the seeds for her later work on the objectification of celebrities. This became Poppy’s most prevalent theme. See: her videos, her fashion appearances, and “Girls In Bikinis.”

25. On the chorus, Poppy reiterates her desire to remain ‘apart’ from American kids these days. She emphasizes her abstinence from using drugs, and says (hilariously) that she doesn’t “care about your party.”

26. Not only does Poppy reject young peoples’ lifestyles, she is baffled by how and why people adopt such vapid and empty lifestyles to begin with (“I just don’t get American kids”).

27. Credit where credit’s due: there’s one interpretation I actually liked from Genius. It’s a reading of the line, “Drugs don’t work like they did for my parents,” where Poppy points out how the use of drugs has changed over time.

28. In the past, drugs used to be used as a mind-expanding substance. Substances that freed the individual. Nowadays, drugs are almost a necessity, a toll for living in modern times. Drugs are now a crutch, a fix to get people through another day of crushing monotony.

29. Sewing time. Picking out associations elicited from the song is important, but anyone can do that. The hard part is tying these associations together into a cohesive whole. We ask ourselves: what is the overarching narrative? What does the bigger picture look like?

30. Consider the meta-narrative of “American Kids.” A self-aware pop star reflects, with a pinch of disgust, on the compromises she’s made to succeed. That she has distanced herself from her peers, her parents, and her past self to ‘make it.’ How would this someone feel?

31. “American Kids” leaves us with a feeling of alienation, of exasperation, of someone who is disenchanted with modern society, yet has been forced to exist within its boundaries to succeed. “Liberty isn’t cheap and it ain’t free.” Huh, guess Poppy’s right.

32. Poppy’s final slash is delivered with: “I’m a millennial, blame it all on me.” It’s easier to point fingers than find solutions. But, in the words of Sum 41: “When we all fall down, who will take the blame?”

33. There’s one last part of “American Kids” I mentioned, but didn’t explain. Remember the instruments? Yeah, turns out those are kinda important. They’re harder to ‘read’ than lyrics, but if you’re analyzing music, it’s folly to ignore them.

34. Throughout “American Kids” are snippets of sound, flurries of voices that seep into the track. As Poppy closes the track, repeating “American kids,” her voice becomes increasingly distorted and muddied by other chatter until her signal is swallowed by a sea of noise.

35. At the end of “American Kids,” the gale of noise abruptly ends and we’re left with a final, echoing cry from Poppy, one that slowly fades into the background. “Is that symbolism?” Yeah, something like that.

#poppy #american kids

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 5 years

Text

glasses

Really quick and messy Fae AU ficlet with Phoenix and Ema, written in about an hour and a half, trying to get myself back into the swing of the AU.

On the sixteenth of April, a box arrives at the Wright & Co. Law Offices.

Phoenix is suspicious of it, because Phoenix is suspicious of most things. It makes life in Los Angeles easier to trust nothing and no one, a conclusion Phoenix came to the hard way and has remained true to since. He examines the box on the doorstep without touching it; seeing no enchantments or curses and a European return address, he gingerly carries it inside and sets it on the coffee table.

(He would be much more suspicious if it came from anywhere in the LA area, because this is the hotbed and haven of the Court, and Phoenix inextricably tied to its royal family, Maya with her rows of sharks’ teeth and Pearl’s opalescent shiny skin, Iris insubstantial like ash and Mia and Dahlia who Phoenix does not know what they looked like beneath glamour. There’s a second Court, Maya says, one that her family once split from, somewhere in the Himalayas, but she doesn’t know more about it or worry more about it than that, so Phoenix filed the information away in the back of his mind to remember if he ever meets someone or receives something strange from that part of Asia. But Europe does not fall in the area of his suspicious -- Europe was home to Miles Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma, the two most solidly grounded people in Phoenix’s life, the two who look the same no matter what set of eyes he looks at them through.)

He cuts open the box and finds on top a letter, and beneath that, four Swiss chocolate bars that do not necessitate this box that is half again their length and deeper than them all stacked. The letter is written on lined paper torn from a notebook, the curly torn edge still attached.

Mr. Wright, it reads, and he almost recognizes the handwriting, a messy, loopy, child’s scrawl, and a quick run-down of his tiny circle of acquaintances and who among them are based in Europe lands him on the identity of the sender.

I lost the password for and got locked out of the email that I gave you back when, and I’d lost yours, so I had to snail mail but thought maybe it’s better for me to give you a box to start.

Phoenix sits down on the couch. There’s a few pages folded together.

Anyway I was home for vacation/as a translator for one of my professors - I get a scholarship for it! Sorry I didn’t get to see you. Didn’t have time, but I got to investigate a bit with Mr. Edgeworth. He seems to be doing good. I don’t know how much you talk. I helped him and his assistant on a couple cases and saw Detective Gumshoe too. It’s really helped my resolve to be a forensics investigator. (Sorry that I’ll be going up against you someday, but I’ve got to be on the prosecution’s side. I expect you to defend on all the cases I work on! It can be like a reunion.) Talking w Mr. Edgeworth’s assistant got me thinking, because she

Wait, his assistant? He has an assistant? It must be a new development -- in the past two months, since Phoenix last saw him. Ema can’t mean Franziska -- there’s no way Franziska would ever let a misconception like that take shape.

(Phoenix hasn’t spoken to Edgeworth since February. It’s probably time to reach back out.)

because she was talking about difficulties of what if there’s magic in the case that needs to be investigated. So I got an idea when we were talking about Luminol, and I was thinking about you and your magatama.

Phoenix does not like where this is going.

If it’s not too much trouble, can you get two magatama and mail them to me? I looked at mail rules and stuff and there’s no regulations about sending magical objects in the mail, I couldn’t find. You told me they weren’t particularly hard to make and the price shouldn’t be too steep, but you’re a lawyer and good with deals and contracts and I’m not so much. I didn’t think I should risk contacting anyone myself. I didn’t think you’d be happy about that. I need these to further the cause of science. You’ll be a great help. I can site cite you as my research assistant if I publish any papers on it. (The chocolate is not a bribe. I thought you might like it.) Sincerely, Ema Skye PS I have a new email

In spite of it, Phoenix laughs. “Oh, Ema,” he sighs, shaking his head, and then he glances quickly behind himself, because he feels like something or someone is at his shoulder. The office is empty, because of course it is, but he knows Mia would be interested, and definitely once she heard Ema’s name.

He does admire Ema’s tenacity, and her enthusiasm, and that she’s at least mindful enough to know that she shouldn’t go out-of-the-blue trying to summon one of the fae to get a stash of magatama. (And that apparently part of her litmus is whether Phoenix would be disappointed in her.)

Taking the last page of the letter with him, he goes over to Mia’s desk and boots up the computer. It’s slow, but he has no inclination to get a new one. He’ll use it until it explodes. His money can be better put to other things, like groceries. He doesn’t use it enough to make a new one a worthwhile investment.

He pulls up a new email window and plugs in Ema’s address.

Ema, What exactly do you want two magatama for? I’m not going to consider anything without knowing what your plan is and advising you on whether it’s dangerous. -Phoenix

He waters Charley and picks a few pens up off the floor -- he doesn’t remember dropping them and not picking them back up and wonders if Maya appears in the night to scatter things -- and when he gets back to the desk he already has a response.

Mr. Wright. I think I have an ingenius solution for most investigators not having the sight. I’m going to mount hte magatama on a glasses frame for hands free investigating. I also want to see if I can use sandpaper/shop tools to cut open the hole in the center so it’s easier to see thru. I want to know if the exact shape of the magatama is important for its magical prowess and if it loses its power if parts of it are cut off. I think four might actually be a better number for the first batch. It gives me room to mess up. Thanks, Ema

Phoenix rubs his eyes and feels a headache approaching.

If you were going to try modifying it I wouldn’t recommend using anything metal, even if it’s not iron. Sandpaper would take longer but less risk of a bad reaction. But also, no.

It’s a really interesting question, actually, and Phoenix suddenly, badly, wants to know the answer, but he can’t condone the risk. Ema might draw attention to herself with the magatama, by altering them, or worse, attention from someone that wasn’t Maya or Pearl (because they are the only ones Phoenix would ask for a magatama) by her closer proximity to the Himalayas than Kurain. Or worse, she might succeed in making the glasses, wear them, and See things she shouldn’t and acquire bad attention that way. It’s rude to stare at the fae through a magatama -- the one rule for trying is don’t get caught which is difficult when it’s such an obvious and blatant motion -- and he fears that while there are no rules for a subtle magatama, one that doesn’t look it, the result might be even worse. Not only would she be staring, but Ema would also be trying to hide it, to get away with something she shouldn’t.

(It’s just scientific curiosity, he knows, nothing she means to be harmful, but They might not see it that way.)

Please, Mr Wright, it’s science! It’s important! Don’t you want to know? I’ll just take one to start with. It could really help our justice system and make sure that even magic isn’t above the law and isn’t getting away with crime.

He puts his head in his hands. God, Ema’s probably eighteen, now, isn’t she? She’s probably too old for him to petition to legally adopt her and bring her back to LA to keep an eye on her. Her extended family probably wouldn’t stand for it, anyway. He wonders what Lana would think.

I think it’s a clever idea, but too risky for you. I don’t want to see you getting hurt or locked in a bad deal or ending up like me. Promise me you won’t try and get any magatama yourself.

Mia likes to bind promises made in this office, make them stay true, and Phoenix wonders if that will work when one of them isn’t here, when Ema is on another continent, when Phoenix asks for the promise in electronic words. This isn’t honest of him, to try and lock her with magic into a promise, and for your own good is a slippery slope where naught but ash and bones lie at the bottom.

But Phoenix also spent a year living with my fault a mantra beating in his head, telling him that chosen death was my fault, and he was the one to introduce Ema to magic, to magatamas, to Sighted eyes, and if in investigating that she gets in over her head —

My fault.

He reads over his email again, after sending it, after he can’t take back the words, and it surprised him how much of his heart he laid out. I don’t want to see you ending up like me. He’s thought that, at Ema and Edgeworth and Franziska, but never said it. It’s easier for that sentiment to escape through his fingers than from his lips.

(He should try emailing Edgeworth but is afraid of what he might find himself able to say.)

Okay, okay, geez. You’re really serious on this. I like my soul where it is, tho, you don’t need to worry about that. I’m not gonna give it up for a science experiment but once I’m home and a real forensic scientist I’m coming to your office and hitting you up for this experiment because I still think it’s really important even if you’re gonna be an old fuddy about it.

No one’s ever accused him of being old before, though admittedly he thinks that being old is a blessing he won’t actually ever be afforded.

Good, good. So how’s school going? What were the cases you investigated with Edgeworth about? I didn’t know he had an assistant.

She probably knows this is a clumsy redirect, something to distract her, and she doesn’t respond until the next day — he thinks she’s mad at her until she sends back a novel-length response detailing the specifics of the crime scenes, evidence discovered, culprits, and methods.

In the next few days it’s suddenly much, much harder to keep a normal conversation going, to avail himself of anything but puzzling out the indistinct pieces of the Gramarye case that has left him unmoored and adrift, but the sporadic times he does manage to keep responding to Ema, he doesn’t mention it.

She probably knows the Gramarye name — everyone in LA does, the local coven like cryptids who appear when desperately needed to cut little dangerous deals. And if he mentions Gramarye she’s probably going to think magic crime and she’s going to return to the thought of the glasses —

Safer to keep her separate from that. Safer to keep everyone separate from that.

He only learns from Apollo and Trucy that she’s returned to the States, is working down at the precinct and on crime scenes now.

She doesn’t appear on his doorstep to bug him for a magatama.

#fae au tag #fic: the seelie of kurain #this is mostly of no consequences but there's a few new tidbits of worldbuilding #the stuff about a second Court will get spun into the main fic sooner or later and i've mentioned it in my extra discussion posts #but ema taking a scientific approach to magic has been something i've been thinking about and this was a thing on my mind #her idea here will probably come up in the main fic too. she'll be making her first major appearance soon #fae au extras

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