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kaibutsushidousha · 11 months

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Memory in Children: Mechanical Choices (Sagrada Reset 3) - Chapter 1: The beginning of a summer (Asai Kei, pre-Reset)

[INDEX]

April 27th, Tuesday.

At 4:30 PM, Kei grabbed his school-issued white bag and stood up from his bed. The bag was very light. All his textbooks and dictionaries were either on his desk or his locker. The bag had only his pencil case and a few notebooks.

It was his 20th day in the second year of middle school. The life in the second year is not much different from the life in the first year and he had zero expectations that it would be. His old classroom, textbooks, teachers, and classmates were all replaced by new ones, but if anyone asked him what difference did that make, he wouldn't have a good answer. It felt as different to him as removing an old bolt and screwing a new one in.

Kei left the room after waving goodbye to a few classmates that he talked to every now and then but couldn't call his friends. He followed the hallway straight to the stairs and climbed down toward the front gate.

He walked deep in thought.

If he had to name one major change in his second year of middle school, it was one girl appearing before him. The girl was named Souma Sumire. She was also a second-year student at Nanasaka Middle School but attended a different class.

Ever since meeting her, she took permanent residence in a part of his mind. Often when he reached the landing of a staircase or the corner of a hallway, he felt like he was going to find her at the next turn. This wasn't any supernatural intuition at play or anything of the sort. His guess was wrong far more often than it was right.

(That's how much I'm wary of her, huh), Kei grumbled internally as if it was not his problem.

Souma Sumire was someone impossible to predict. People fear the unknown. His wariness was beyond his control.

He first met her on April 8th. Discounting the weekends, it's been 12 days between that day and the day he met her, and in these 12 days, he encountered her 17 times. That was a proportion of 3 times every two days. That frequency couldn't be a coincidence but he didn't know what was the meaning behind it. Most of those times, they had an incomprehensible but weirdly thought-provoking conversation and then she suddenly disappeared. He could feel her hiding an unspoken purpose but couldn't form any concrete theory. He only felt that, whatever it was, it would be something really annoying to deal with.

He turned at the last corner before the front gate. He felt like Souma would be on the other side, but again, his guess was wrong. Only a few students he didn't know changing their shoes.

Kei followed suit and opened his shoe locker. Atop his half-a-year-old sneakers, he found a white rectangle.

It was an envelope. Landscape-oriented and sealed with a red heart sticker. The envelope atop the dirty sneakers was the kind of envelope you only see in the emoji. A form so codified that no one still used it in real life.

He took it and checked both sides. The sender's name was nowhere to be found. After changing his shoes, Kei opened the envelope during his walk. The heart sticker ripped in the middle with a neat sound. If this really was a love letter, that would have been a technical flaw, in his opinion.

After leaving the school grounds, a strong wind blew when he pulled out the written paper.

It was almost May. The air was getting warmer, but the winds were still chilling. The paper fluttered in his hand, trying to fly away.

The text written on it was concise. Only two lines. The first line asked him to meet on the rooftop after school tomorrow, and the second line was the sender's name.

(That's some nice handwriting. Wait, that's not what my first impression was supposed to be. This turn of events might be confusing my brain a little.)

The second line of the letter read "Souma Sumire".

(Why take all these extra steps to invite me? If she needs something from me, she could just appear out of nowhere and start her one-sided conversations like she always does. I don't get what Souma is trying to accomplish.)

This last sentence was a doubt the 16-year-old Kei would still carry 2 years later.

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Asai Kei started living in Sakurada in his 12th summer.

Until the day he entered high school and started living on his own, he had been living in the house of the Nakano family.

A 12-year-old was too young to live alone, and due to special circumstances, Kei was not allowed to leave Sakurada. And the Nakano house was large, with more than enough space for an extra child.

After putting Souma's letter in his bag, Kei bought an English mystery in the bookstore on the national highway and made it back to the Nakano home. The sun was already setting by the time he got there.

The Nakano residence had been reformed a couple years before and still looked good as new. Past the gate, he heard a bouncing sound in the courtyard.

Looking in its direction, he found a boy playing with his basketball.

A tall boy with hair shaved short and big, round eyes. The boy's name was Nakano Tomoki. He was the eldest son of the Nakano, had the same age, and attended the same middle school as Kei. Tomoki and Kei were fairly close, considering they lived in the same house. He was the only person in town Kei considered a friend.

Kei was used to seeing Tomoki practicing basketball at this hour. Same casual combination of t-shirt and sports pants, same Converse sneakers. He did it every day, as regularly as the city lamps at the determined hour.

The Nakano courtyard had a basketball hoop. An old, rusty hoop that survived the house's reform intact. Kei heard once that it was installed when Tomoki's father was still in high school, so might be emotionally attached to it. Many strings on the net were snapped and drooping down, but as long as the ring was still in place, it worked as a basketball goal.

Nakano Tomoki tossed the ball into the air with beautiful form. The ball drew a high parabola, passing through the hoop and grazing the net on the way. Later it hit the floor with a bounce.

"Good one.", said Kei.

He looked in Kei's direction and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his right hand.

"Hey. Home late today."

"Yeah. I passed by Mikura along the way."

"Mikura?"

"The bookstore on the national highway."

Tomoki broke down laughing.

"That's not a walking distance from here. Get home first and take the bicycle here if you're normal!"

"It's not THAT far. I can get from school to there in 25 minutes."

"And you can get from school to home in 10."

Tomoki laughed it off and picked up the ball.

"Play with me, Kei."

"Not really up for exercising today."

"People who don't want to exercise don't take 50-minute walks."

"People who want to read books do."

That said, he had a few questions for Tomoki. He could play some basketball while they talked.

"Wait for me to get changed."

Kei waved and walked to the back of the courtyard.

It was difficult for Kei to understand since he used to live in a far more populated city before his visit to Sakurada, but this residence had a room detached from the main building. That was where Kei lived.

Tomoki's grandfather built the detached building to be his study. It was originally a Japanese-style building but it was renewed with the main house's reform. The room was turned into a miniature Western house, slightly resembling an oversized doghouse.

With his borrowed key, Kei opened his room. Inside there were an immensely heavy wooden desk and a bookshelf with glass doors, both remnants from when the detached building was a study. The steel bed the Nakanos put there for Kei didn't match the decoration in the slightest.

Kei put his bag on the desk. He didn't keep much there. Only a pen stand, and next to it, a small cat-shaped keychain—No, the cat was no longer a keychain. With its metal fixture broken, it had lost all functionality. It was too unstable to use as a paperweight, easily rolling off from a mechanical pencil writing next to it.

Turned away from the artificial cat, Kei changed his uniform into a plain T-shirt and jeans.

When he came back to the hoop, Tomoki was sitting on the ball, bored out of his wits. He noticed Kei and stood up.

"Let's get started."

Playing basketball with Tomoki also became an immutable part of his daily life since age 13.

Kei lost the rock-paper-scissors game to determine who started on the offensive, so he stood turned away from the hoop. Then, he quickly closed his eyes.

Kei had the ability to perfectly remember his thought and sensations (for all 5 senses) from the past. His memory could be described as absolute. In his head, he can faithfully reproduce all of Tomoki's moves from the previous times they played basketball. The width of his steps, speed, preferred shooting forms, eye movement, minor idiosyncrasies, breathing rhythm—All of it in hundreds, thousands of instances.

Kei opened his eyes and smirked.

"I predict that you'll go for a feint on my right, then roll past me from my left."

Tomoki sighed heavily.

"Don't turn basketball into a psychological battle, man."

"I don't have a chance to beat you if I play normal."

"You sure?"

"Hm?"

"Nothing. Fine, do it your way."

Tomoki threw Kei the ball. Kei grabbed it and threw it back to him. Kei didn't know if that was how the official one-on-one rules went, but in the Nakano family court, the game started when the defense passed the ball to the offense.

Kei adjusted his legs to make it easier for him to move to the right. Tomoki lowered his center of gravity and sprinted. The ball hit the floor once, twice.

With the third bounce, Tomoki passed the ball from his right to his left hand. His body inclined. For a moment, his line of sight moved to Kei's right.

He noticed this was a feint. His posture, width of step, line of sight—and his expression. All these pieces of information allowed him to predict Tomoki's next move. He remembered all similar movements in the past and matched them with the current movements.

Exactly as Kei pointed out, Tomoki feigned going to the right and advanced with a sharp turn to the left. His words weren't a guess. He knew that if he said that, Tomoki would try to overcome him through the method told to him. But...

(That's another feint.)

Certain of that, Kei moved only his head, pretending to fall for Tomoki's trick. He had a perfect read on Tomoki's actions. He already had the timing and distance memorized. He didn't need to use his eyes.

Kei took a step forward while looking in the opposite direction. His head lagged behind to the right place.

Tomoki stood in front of him holding the ball above his head, in position for a short hop and a shoot.

Everything was as predicted. He reacted at the quickest timing. And yet... Tomoki smirked.

The time gap between Tomoki committing to the shoot and the ball flying off his hand was faster than he remembered. Stretching his hand mid-jump, Kei already knew.

(I won't reach.)

The ball passed above Kei's hand. After launching the ball, Tomoki's hand clenched into a fist. Kei twisted his body to pursue the ball's trajectory. Just to confirm what he already knew would happen.

The black silhouette of the ball contrasted against the sunset sky traveled its calculated course, passing through the hoop in an ideal high arc.

He heard the ball bounce on the ground. Tomoki smiled with joy.

"Perfect one, am I right?"

"I could have stopped that if we were the same height.", Kei answered after clicking his tongue.

Tomoki was almost 10cm taller than Kei.

"I don't care. Blame yourself for being a manlet."

"It's you who is too big. I'm barely below average."

"You're not winning this argument. You're a manlet compared to me."

"Compared to you, pretty much everyone is. I'm only 3cm shorter than our school's second-year average. Considering how taller than average you are, it's clear to see that's you who's too big, not I who am too small."

Tomoki laughed.

"No matter what you say, I still outplayed you."

"Basketball needs to start sorting people by height. Just like the weight classes in boxing."

Kei picked up the ball amidst his pointless arguments.

"I won't lose today.", he said just for saying. He didn't believe his own words.

The one-on-one basketball games in the Nakano courtyard lasted until either Tomoki scored 20 or Kei scored 10. That's a large handicap, but even then, Kei only won 30% of the time.

That day, Kei scored 6 points before Tomoki reached his 20. That was the average result.

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Before they knew it, the sun had set.

Once the game was over, Kei sat on the floor and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Tomoki lied down next to Kei to look at the sky. The air had a cold blue color and a smooth layer of humidity the moment before night arrived.

"You've gotten a little faster."

"Have I? Well, I am still growing, I suppose."

"You really should have joined the Basketball Club, with how good you are at it."

"No way. My thing is the Broadcast Club."

Tomoki was part of a mini-basketball team in elementary school, but entering middle school, he chose the Broadcast Club. Kei didn't know why he'd do that. He had no reason to complain about what club Tomoki was part of.

"Ok, you do you.", he answered as nonchalantly as he could muster. "Tomoki, you know that strange girl from your class?"

"A strange girl? You mean the long-haired one?"

"No, a short-haired one. Her name is Souma Sumire."

She and Tomoki were both in Class 2-1.

"Oh, our class rep."

He already knew she was the class representative.

He ran a quick search on her. Didn't find anything interesting. Souma Sumire seemed to be just a regular 14-year-old with no ability. The only unique things on her profile are the fact that she moved to Sakurada from another city last spring and that she helped the student council in her first school year. But this spring, she resigned from her student council volunteer position, which did raise some eyebrows.

Still lying down, Tomoki quickly turned his head and answered.

"I don't think Souma is weird. But what about her?"

"I was just curious."

"What, are you in love?"

"I hadn't considered this possibility."

Tomoki returned his gaze to the sky. Kei also raised his head, seeing nothing be gained from looking at Tomoki's face. The clouds moved like black shadows.

"Well, I can't even imagine you liking anyone."

"That's rude. You know I love you."

"Yuck. I like women."

"You shouldn't be assuming love is automatically romantic. I love spaghetti, but that doesn't mean I wanna date a bolognese."

"Did you just put me on the same level as food?"

"It was just an example."

He actually didn't like spaghetti all that much. It was a nice thing to have once in a while and nothing more. This really was only an example.

Tomoki shook his head exasperated.

"Ok, put that aside. You showing interest in a girl your age is an unprecedented event, ain't it?"

"Is it really?"

"Sure is. Did anything happen?"

After a short moment of hesitation, Kei answered.

"We've talked a few times. And then today, when I was leaving school, there was a letter in my shoe locker."

The letter came in a white portrait-sized envelope with a heart sticker.

"From Souma?"

"Yeah. It said she wanted to meet me on the rooftop after class tomorrow."

"She's asking you out, no doubt about it."

"If it was any other girl, I'd have suspected this possibility. But this is Souma we're talking about."

"So what? She's just your regular cheerful girl."

Kei noticed a great divergence of opinions about Souma between himself and Tomoki. He didn't seem like a good source of information.

(Whatever. I'll know the answer tomorrow.)

"By the way, who was the long-haired girl you mentioned?"

Kei abruptly changed subjects. A frequently used tactic for when subjects got annoying.

"Hm, oh, yeah. There's this weirdo with long hair. She's kinda like you."

"Oh? Now I'm interested."

"She rarely talks, never emotes, and seems completely uninterested in anyone around her. Her name is... I think Haruki, but I don't know how to write it."

"That's nothing like me. I'm more on the talkative side, emote richly, and my name is Asai Kei."

"I'll give you talkative, but emoting, really?"

Kei answered with a bright smile.

"You'd be hard-pressed to find someone with a worse poker face than mine."

Tomoki shook his head in disapproval.

"Sure, I'll believe it. You just have similar vibes."

"So you got nothing concrete to say."

"The simplest way to put would be... you two look like you don't pour your heart into most things you do."

Tomoki looked at Kei with an unusually serious face. Looking at it was kind of awkward, so Kei looked at the sky. The deep indigo took its place in the post-sunset sky, covering the world in deep shades and faint darkness.

Averting his eyes couldn't prevent Kei from hearing Tomoki's voice.

"For example, you don't really want to beat me at basketball, do you?"

His voice contained a hint of hesitation.

(Tomoki actually doesn't want to have this talk either. Then he should have never brought it up. Words don't need to convey anything more than the bare minimum. Talk to me like you're talking to a convenience store cashier.)

"Is that what I look like?"

"It's not. You look very realistically frustrated out of context. But I don't think you truly care."

"Why?"

"Dunno. Gut instinct."

"Sure..."

Kei stood up and slapped the dirt off his jeans.

He could notice Tomoki slightly raising his eyebrow in the dark.

"My bad, that was weird."

(If you think you need to apologize for it, don't even bring it up.), Kei thought but didn't point it out because he thought this was also unnecessary dialogue. Instead, he chose the answer that cut the conversation short.

"You don't need to apologize. More importantly, I want to wash off all this sweat before dinner. Can I use the shower first?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks."

Kei turned away from Tomoki.

(I'm not wholly unfrustrated from losing at basketball.), he made excuses to himself. But he acknowledged the fact that he didn't care all that much for the results of the basketball games he played to pass the time.

(Ultimately, I think Tomoki's criticism is right.)

It was pretty much true that Kei didn't pour his heart into most things he did, although it was not a matter of where his heart was, but a matter of how much he had.

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The next day. April 28th, Wednesday.

That day, Kei remained in his classroom after class.

The letter he got from Souma only told him to go to the rooftop, without specifying the time. Kei opened a novel, having decided to waste at least 15 minutes before going.

It was the English mystery he bought the last day. It had the translator's commentary at the end of the book, and Kei decided to read that first. He wasn't particularly interested in the translator's commentary. What he was doing was similar in spirit to starting a set meal from the salad. He learned that the book was written 40 years ago, sold by multiple publishers, and won a minor award.

After reading the first few lines, he heard a sudden voice in his head.

He was very familiar with it. It was Tomoki's voice.

ーKei, I got a favor to ask. Can you wait for me in your classroom?

That was Tomoki's ability. He can select a time and send his voice to someone far away. Kei kept reading the novel in his hands, then Tomoki appeared exactly when he finished reading the translator's commentary.

"Bro, can I borrow your English dictionary?"

"Sure, but why do you need it after class?"

"I'm gonna use it in the club."

(What would the Broadcast Club use an English dictionary for? Are they going to translate the song titles?), Kei thought while he pulled the English dictionary out of his desk.

He chatted with Tomoki for a quick bit, and before he knew it, 15 minutes had passed. The two split paths early into the hallway and Kei took the stairs going up. He needed to climb two floors to reach the rooftop.

He remembered the letter in his shoe locker. ーCome to the southern school building rooftop on April 28th. Souma Sumire.

(What an entitled letter. I'm not asking for a fancy greeting paragraph, but at least tell me what do you want from me.)

Making loud and crude footsteps with his school-mandated indoor shoes, he climbed the stairs and opened the door leading to the rooftop.

But the one there wasn't Souma Sumire.

There was only a long-haired girl with no expression on her face.

Kei knew the girl's name. For a simple reason: he had the names of all students of his year memorized.

The girl's name was Haruki Misora.

A girl in the same class as Nakano Tomoki and Souma Sumire. He recalled Tomoki describing her as weird the previous day. Someone who, like Kei, doesn't pour her heart into what she does.

Haruki Misora's eyes were fixed on Kei.

But for whatever reason, Kei didn't feel seen. If Kei wasn't here, she would be looking in the same direction with the same face.

The long-haired girl's gaze was simple and devoid of will. Just as Tomoki described, he couldn't imagine her pouring her heart into anything.

Kei intentionally smiled and walked straight to Haruki. She didn't react. An unknown boy approaching did incite caution or nervousness in her.

He started the conversation.

"You're from 2-1, right?"

Haruki took a while to react. It was as if he couldn't see or hear Kei. Once Kei walked next to her, she finally answer with a quiet voice.

"Yes."

He was disturbed by the timing of the response but tried his best not to show it on his face.

"Do you know Souma from your class?"

"Yes."

"Great. Souma told me to come here. Do you know where she is?"

"No."

(What's this girl's problem? I feel like I'm talking to a concrete wall.)

After some thought, Kei asked another question.

"What's your favorite food?"

He wanted to test if she could say anything other than yes or no.

The question came out of nowhere but she answered with no signs of surprise.

"I don't have any."

"Ok. Least favorite food then?"

"I don't have any."

"Must be nice not to be picky. You sound like you have a very healthy diet."

While giving this half-hearted answer, Kei internally cursed Tomoki. (How the hell is this girl anything like me? I look way more human than this.)

"By the way, why are you here? If you wanna be alone, I don't mind leaving."

"I'm here because Souma Sumire invited me. I don't particularly want to be alone."

(I didn't think she could give answers this long.)

Kei let out an intentional sigh.

"I wish you had brought that up back when I mentioned Souma's name."

She tilted her head, not understanding what he said.

Paying attention to her every reaction would prove stressful. Kei followed up with a question.

"Can you tell me more about Souma?"

"I don't know what you mean by 'more'."

"Anything. Just tell me whatever you know about her."

Haruki lowered her head with a fixed speed and raised it again at the same pace. An affirmative nod, even if it didn't look like one.

"Souma Sumire is the representative of Class 2-A. She instructed me to head here on my own before her because she would be late due to her class representative tasks."

"And do you know what those tasks are?"

"No."

"Ok."

It couldn't be a meeting with all class representatives because Kei's class rep wasn't called. Kei didn't remember his teacher saying anything to that effect. That said, it could have been an errand only she was asked to do.

(Eh, doesn't matter.)

Only one thing was important: Souma called Kei and Haruki to the rooftop at the same time. She had something in mind, and for that, she needed to make the two of them meet.

"Did you know that Souma called me too?"

"No."

"What about the reason why we were called?"

"I don't know."

"Me neither. Man, what's Souma even thinking?"

(How am I supposed to kill time alone with this bizarre girl? I guess we could play word chain? I don't feel like Haruki will refuse. She could play along with the word chain in the same monotone as the previous conversation. I say Squirrel, she says Lily, I say Yell, she says Lexicographical.)

Kei was struck with curiosity to see a girl say the word "lexicographical" with no emotion in her voice but knew he would gain nothing from putting his wish to the test. Instead, Kei asked a slightly more meaningful question.

"Are you friends with Souma?"

Haruki tilted her head.

"I don't know the definition of friends."

"Okay. Then do you talk to Souma often?"

"Souma is most likely the classmate I spoke with the most last year."

"Oh, you were in the same class last year too."

Kei remembered the class distribution chart he got when he first came to Nanasaka Middle School last year. Indeed, Haruki and Souma were both listed under class 1-4.

"Then I don't see why you wouldn't call yourselves close friends."

"Because I believe the frequency in which I talk to classmates is far below the middle school average."

"Really?"

Haruki rhythmically nodded.

"The person with which I talked the longest in this second year is you."

This was their first talk. The bar was really low to make him number 1.

"The school year started only 20 days ago. You still have a lot of opportunities to talk to people."

"Is conversation necessary?"

"Good question. I can't exactly say it is. Suit yourself."

Haruki didn't answer, perhaps because of what Kei said. Kei couldn't find further reason to talk and leaned on the rooftop handrail.

Students walked on the street in front of the school, on their way home. Their intriguing voices were faintly audible from the rooftop. Kei was comfortable with this distance from the crowd.

Kei and Haruki stood on the rooftop in silence for a while. He wondered when Souma was going to appear. He considered waiting 5 more minutes before thinking about what to do next. His options were going home or actually playing word chain.

Until now, Haruki spent this entire time looking at the rooftop entrance, but then she moved next to him. She looked at the street in front of the middle school.

(Did anything catch her interest? I can't even imagine what could interest her.)

Her expression remained colorless and invisible as always. He couldn't find any emotion in it. The night sky couldn't hope to compare to the darkness contained in her face. Kei followed her line of sight.

Students walking home on the street in front of their middle school. Fewer than before. The peak hour of student traffic had already passed. A girl was crouching on a corner on the other side of the street. She wasn't a Nanasaka student. She looked too young to be a middle schooler. It was a girl in the earliest years of elementary school.

He could tell at first glance. She was crying.

Did she trip? Was she lost? He couldn't know why and her cries wouldn't reach the rooftop. But the fact remained that a girl was crying alone under Haruki Misora's gaze.

Kei returned his gaze to Haruki. Her hair was fluttering in the wind. Her naturally wavy hair spread its thin tips.

Her pale lips made the slightest movement.

"Reset.", whispered Haruki Misora.

A whisper like a sigh.

Haruki Misora's voice was slightly coarse and considerably deep for girl standards.

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April 27th, Tuesday.

He found an envelope with a heart sticker in his shoebox, bought an English mystery in the bookstore on the national highway, and accepted Tomoki's invitation for a game of basketball upon getting to the Nakano residence.

He operated as if commanded by a program.

Kei lost the rock-paper-scissors game to determine who started on the offensive, so he stood turned away from the hoop.

Then, he quickly closed his eyes. He tried to recall the width of Tomoki's steps, speed, preferred shooting forms, eye movement, minor idiosyncrasies, breathing rhythm—All of it in hundreds, thousands of instances.

It all started with something feeling off.

(The memory range is not the same as usual.)

His description was not accurate but he didn't know how else to word it. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the previous month. It felt more distant than it used to be.

Inhaling deeply to steel himself like you do when about to take a dive, Kei tried to remember "yesterday".

The day before April 27th. Normally that would be April 26th.

But what he found was another April 27th.

When he came to his senses, his head was overloaded with information. His memories continued from this moment to the next day—All the way up to the rooftop after class on April 28th.

A headache and nausea accompanied the approximately 24 hours' worth of memories suddenly forcing themselves into his brain. Kei grabbed his forehead to fasten his hazy consciousness tight.

He clenched his eyes close. The back of his eyelids showed faint red-tinged lights scattered through the dark, and he could hear Tomoki's disconcerted voice.

"What's wrong?"

Kei opened his eyes and forced a smile.

"Nothing. I was just thinking about how I don't stand a chance."

In trying to remember the past, he saw the future.

Kei will lose this basketball game. He'll only manage to score 6 points before Tomoki hits his 20.

(Time turned back.)

The reason why he could understand that so smoothly is that he already experienced that multiple times before. In the two years that Kei had his absolute Memory Retention ability, he's been experiencing that every few months.

Someone used an ability. One that affects time.

The 24 hours' worth of lost memories spread disorderly through his head. Kei realigned the memories in proper chronological order. At the end of the process, he found one word at the last moment before time turned back.

The girl on the rooftop. She had beautiful wavy hair fluttering in the wind.

Her pale lips whispered.

In a voice like a sigh filled with resignation.

ーReset.

Immediately after it, the world turned back the clock.

(Amazing.)

The moment one girl said "Reset", the world returned from April 28th to April 27th. Could it all be a coincidence? Could the two things be completely unrelated?

Or was it Haruki Misora?

Could a girl that small have an ability so big it could return everything in the world, if not the universe, to the past? Could she pull off an effect this powerful with a single word?

(I can't believe this.)

Kei involuntarily laughed.

"Seriously, what's wrong, Kei?"

He heard Tomoki's voice.

"I just remembered something nice."

He focused on his memories and opened the eyes he had closed without noticing it.

He saw Tomoki's uneasy face, but couldn't bother concerning himself with it.

The ability to turn back time. That was an extremely significant ability for Kei. An ability that saved him in the past once, to be specific.

Haruki Misora whispered it.

ーReset.

(What a perfect word for that ability.)

"Tomoki, let's play some basketball.", said Kei, still not done laughing.

(Let's get this day over with already. So I can see Haruki Misora again tomorrow.)

#sagrada reset #memory in children #mechanical choices #asai kei #nakano tomoki #haruki misora

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brutlist-archive · 3 years

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life sometimes has seriously really bad timing. i’m putting this under a read more because it gets pretty graphic, but i have to admit that i need help because of the current events that my health has undergone.

i’ve been doing pretty financially well these past few months, my work has been steady, things have been pretty normal up until recently when my landlord emailed us about a month ago notifying us that we had until september 30th to leave the house bc having people living in it while he was making on and off repairs proved to ironically be just “too inconvenient”. that was all well and fine, i have a room i’m lining up to move into soon and had been pretty confident with it until this past saturday when i woke up at 5A with rapid heart palpitations, the left side of my body going numb, and the left side of my face starting to droop during a visit i was spending with my mother at her apartment. i was rushed to the urgent care center down the way, received two CT scans and a chest x-ray that almost directly afterward once i had been deposited back into my room, i immediately began to hallucinate ( saw dust particles spiraling over my head until it funneled and tried to attack me, the tv monitor turned into water, letters on the posters drifted apart from each other and became weirdly cartoonish idk how to describe it; i couldn’t let my eyes focus anywhere or else i’d hallucinate something else ). a few seconds later while i was awestruck by the last hallucination (more dust particles but they were glittery and came raining down from the ceiling, it was actually very pretty) i blacked out, and woke up again with nurses everywhere, my mom holding me up as i vomited into two bags. i can’t really remember what happened after, i just know the nurses were suddenly gone, and it was just me and my mom in the doctor’s room. she told me i had just gone through a severe seizure that had i guess lasted a while, she couldn’t say. i bit my tongue so hard i nearly took a chunk out of it. i was taken by ambulance back to the actual hospital for an MRI, that i’m waiting to hear back on now. i had seized so hard i had burst an innumerable amount of capillaries and blood vessels in my eyes to the point where i looked like i had sunburn. it’s been two days and they’re still fading. the hallucinations didn’t stop even after i was taken home but gradually, thankfully, i started to revert back to normal, though left indescribably lethargic and confused. i think it’s safe to say i had a stroke that resulted in a seizure as my brain tried to hard reset itself. i’ve never been so fucking scared for my life. i cried. i thought i was going to die. my boss is being uncharacteristically benevolent and is allowing me the week to rest and recover. walking is still a little weird. i might end up going to work anyway on wednesday, or at least thursday so i can bring in something. i’m worried, because i have my top surgery next week, which is going to put me back out of work for probably another few days (thankfully two will be on pto but in the entire six months of working at this fucking job, that is literally all i was able to accrue). i still have bills i have to pay, the rent at where i’m still staying, and the rent for the new place on top of a security deposit. i’m in big trouble lol. my mother said i’ll always have a home wherever she is, but i’d rather not if i can avoid it as she’s a better friend than she ever was a parent.

i am not looking for pity. i just need some help. thankfully the moratorium in my city is still up, so i can skip out on rent for a little and use what money i do pull in for the next few months (while still paying partials to my landlord so i don’t completely screw myself over) to save up for the move. i’m confident i can make it before the deadline, but i really might need some help doing so. it’s out of my hands. if you need them, if you want them, i still have my discharge papers and can prove that this actually happened. we’re thinking that it might have been my antidepressants, my jaw spasms didn’t start until i started taking it and we didn’t realize until just now lmao; apparently those are some kind of seizure in of them selves that i’ve been unknowingly having for the better part of a year. i dunno officially until i speak with the neurologist. if you’re up to helping, i appreciate you , here is my paypal . if you can’t afford to help but still want to pass this around, i still appreciate you. thank you for reading this far. please be good to yourself. if you think something is wrong with you, don’t wait.

#seizure /#vomit /#hallucinations /#hospital /#let me know if anyone needs this tagged with anything else <3 #sos #stroke /

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furiosity-wills-the-cat · 3 years

Text

Chara, the fourth Blook cousin:

A crack theory that accidentally become way more serious than it should have because it somehow, despite my best efforts, ended up making sense

Brought to you by my idiot conspiracy brain (affectionate) and by encouragement from my Tumblr followers

Under the cut for the sake of your dashes and sanity

Ok here we go my very elaborate accidental theory, because in order to answer the complex questions simply you must first make simple things more complex or something

First, you need to know that Chara became a Blook cousin by adoption.

All of the Blooks are adopted.

Ghosts are not born into families, they make their own.

Got it? Great, because we’re about to start running

so first, im gonna make surprisingly uncommon claim in this fandom, and I am going to say that undertale ghosts are all dead

I’m taking the tiny details we know about ghosts and sprinting with them to new places

Ghosts also do not have souls I decided

Undertale souls do not work the same as souls in traditional mythology

So every ghost is soulless Unless and Until they become corporeal

Evidence: Monster souls cant exist without bodies, and ghosts are monsters, therefore ghosts cannot have souls without bodies

Further evidence: Asriel doesnt steal blooky’s soul, blooky is unkillable, we have no concrete evidence that blooky has a soul

What about mettaton? He only has a soul after he has completely committed to being corporeal and to a specific body.

Also maddy and mettaton are both only killable while corporeal

Im also connecting the dots we have about souls in a new creative way so let me live for a second

Additionally, i am going to claim that there are a lot more ghosts than just the blooks, some evidence given below

Theres like actual scientific knowlege of ghosts in the undertale verse which seems unlikely if theres literally only three or four

The underground is so much bigger than you think, theres that giant forest in snowdin, a large town in the ruins, the huge city of new home, who knows how much space in the large open areas of waterfall etc. Its really really big okay

Also based off evidence of blooky, we can conclude that ghosts can turn invisible whenever they want to and/or haunt objects to hide

So I personally think that ghosts are, generally speaking, extremely reclusive

And the blooks are just a special exception, a beautiful family, amazing for them

So anyway im going with typical ghost lore for now, for the sake of ease, so im gonna say ghosts generally come from monsters who are particularly restless or unsatisfied when they die

HOWEVER i dont think they remember being monsters or anything before being a ghost. They just kinda fizzle into existance with a fully formed personality and immortality while being unkillable and feeling vaguely uneasy

ALSO i personally think that chara was a ghost for a long time before they became a blook by adoption

Based on game lore, i think ghosts can possess any inanimate object and just kinda wear it? But it takes a lot of strong emotion to become corporeal

And chara is the super weird exception because they were a human not a monster.

They dont have a soul (i headcanon that their soul got destroyed when asriel died)

And they KNOW this, which is a huge part of why they kinda just... give up

Because they lost their ability to fulfill prophecy

Also, without a soul, they lost their ability to reset, so for the first time since falling underground, theyre subject to the relentless march of time

But theyre still weirdly strong and powerful and more emotional

ALSO they DO still remember being a human but they catch on pretty quickly that other ghosts dont have memories and because chara is stupid they just lie to fit in

Theyre too tired to explain themself, they just want to be alone and feel awful

Now back to ghost lore

Emotions are a lot harder for ghosts??? I decided

And they dont know why,, they tend to blame it on the soul thing

But realistically its actually more of the immortality thing making actions not have consequences and/or or not having a body so they cant have a sense of touch or have physical effects of emotion

They all know that ghosts just tend to be way more floaty and bored and numb

And thats part of why the blooks are so special

Maddy’s rage and Mettaton’s yearning and Napstablook’s misery are like... not great all of the time...

but theyre also way way more emotion than most ghosts have,,, they are just a family supporting each other, being as functional as they can,, just an emo(tional) ghost family

most ghosts barely do anything except like stare at walls but the blooks have their snail farm and that helps them have purpose and it is good

And they hold each other accountable and it is nice

So anyway chara just chills and is in a depression coma for a few decades before the blooks find them and are like “our child/baby cousin”

and they raise them for a cool minute

They are all very protective of the new baby emo blook

And chara doesnt get therapy but at the very least they once again have a family, and they decide they want to try to become corporeal eventually just like mtt and maddy

So anyway chara starts hanging out in the ruins a lot more and they finally tell the blooks theyre leaving to go become corporeal in the ruins

This is actually because they are trying to hang out with toriel

because they miss their mom ;;

but chara’s not gonna admit that to anyone, especially not to themself

And because theyre still repressing their emotions constantly and pretending to be fine, they cant become corporeal

And they hang out in the ruins for a long time because they feel guilty lying to everyone about everything

They still feel like its their fault that all the monsters are stuck underground, because they were SUPPOSED to save everyone and they COULDNT and it HURTS

But again, they are doing too much repression to use this guilt to become corporeal,

so instead they just kinda hide and watch toriel from a distance and cry

Blooky visits them the most, thats why blooky is chilling in the ruins so much at the start of the game

Theyre just there to visit their shy baby cousin ;;

Ofc they wont tell frisk about this because chara wants space and privacy and blooky respects that

but maddy and mtt also visit them a lot

Oh also when mtt and maddy start dissapearing, blookys mental health plummets as their family and support system starts to dissolve

Blooky was actually doing extremely well (for a ghost) for a long time, i headcanon,

but theyre doing the worst theyve been in a long long time during the game, because of family issues

So anyway, chara dissapears when frisk shows up, and maddy assumes this is becaude frisk hurt their fragile feelings

Maddy spends hours desperately searching the ruins for chara and cant find them and assumes that they had their heart crushed and went to hide and disappear in a depression coma for another few decades, and thats part of why maddy is so furious with frisk

Like,, to be clear, maddy is still jumping to conclusions and throwing blame around with no proof, but also, its a logical conclusion to come to

And mettaton has already disappeared too and been gone for a while, too, by this point, so it hurts even worse

But anyway, what actually happened to chara is that;

Because chara is a human ghost, not a monster ghost, normal ghost rules dont apply to them

And they can possess living things too they find out

Maybe they knew it a long time ago, maybe its a new discovery, but for whatever reason they end up possessing frisk and theyre like “what the heck”

And frisk still has most of the control

But now chara is like,,, “this is my chance, im a human again, gotta save the world for real,,,”

and they cant explain this to anyone without revealing their past

so they just chill in frisk’s mind while being super crypic and trying to figure out how it works

Pacifist route, this is pretty much exactly what happens

They manage to help frisk save the day

And in my headcanon, the no mercy route is started by frisk who is scared when faced by monsters attacking them

And then chara, who was aready hiding in a semidepression coma for a while, immediately transitions to a panicked “gotta protect this body, gotta protect my chance to be human, i died and threw away my chance to save everyone the first time, i CANNOT lose this chance again”

And so the combination of both frisk and chara is the genocide run

Because frisk kills in self defense, and whenever frisk hesitates, chara jumps in

Also theres leftover feelings from the whole asriel incident

Because again, ghosts come from monsters who died unsatisfied

And chara’s main source of unsatisfaction is how they were trying to get asriel to kill people before he died and then he didnt

So thats a strong strong feeling ruling them

So anyway by the time they both realize how bad its become they figure its too late and also the amount of LOVE has made them numb

And thats when chara who, despite everything, still has idiot hero complex and thinks they need to save the world

So, while panicking, they step in at the very end, and erase the timeline and delete everything

And also to clarify

They DONT HAVE this power at any other point in the game

Because, guess why

They become corporeal

Just like maddy, the no mercy route is the only thing that gives them strong enough emotion to spontaneously become corporeal

So they become corporeal and as soon as they have a soul again and can reset again, they just erase everything

Ok back to fluff

Post pacifist route, they are still a non corporeal ghost

They can still float around and look just like the other blooks

And it takes them a while to open up about things, but they do end up moving back in with blooky so that blooky isnt completely alone

And also they do way better with a family

Also they can float through the mountain and talk to flowey down below and bring him news

And now that they know about him, they can bond with him and explain that they dont have a soul either but that doesnt mean theyre worthless

Oh ALSO

The other dead humans dont have ghosts

BECAUSE

ghosts only come from restless dead MONSTERS

and chara is the weird special exception

Because they were a monster when they died

They became a ghost and asriel didnt because they were way more restless and stressed than asriel was when both of them died

Like sure, asriel felt awful, but chara was the one who was way more like “this is my fault, i CANT die now, the world NEEDS me”

So anyway

charablook the emo tween ghost and asriel flowey the eldrich goat daisy are siblings once more and they hang out and eventually they are okay and have a family again

Thank you for reading, this has been my thoughts on a crack theory that accidentally went too far

This isnt even everything, maybe i’ll make a part two eventually, but i promised to have this post out like two days ago, so i wanted to post SOMTHING

Anyway leave your thoughts if youd like

Im not looking for people to disprove it, i already know its crazy, i dont think it was intentional by the game writers, but i do think its a fun concept

thats the fun of it, so if anyone wants to run with it im all for it lol

Thanks again! Have a nice day!

#no mercy #as a warning tag #chara undertale #napstablook undertale #fic tag #meta #analysis #crack theroy #undertale #i didnt edit this very much #so if there are any major typos or parts that didnt make sense #or were illegible #feel free to let me know so i can clarify

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mismess · 3 years

Note

What would be some traits, quirks, or elements of Norman that according to you would have to be included when perhaps……writing a story about him 👀

AWAH- 🥺 *digs into my brain like a big toy bin* uh let me see if I can explain stuff today I'm just gonna say whatever comes to mind tbh, idk what would NEED to be included in stories but maybe this is a good explanation of his personality?? skdhf I mean idk where to start with Norman lmao one thing is he has been here WAY longer than Dolby has, and in part with that he doesn't really have a grasp on his actions having consequences anymore cause whenever he did anything the damage would be reset every loop, so he genuinely doesn't find that it's a big deal when he does things like the occasional murder cause it's gonna reset anyway, he doesn't take into account others feelings very much cause he hasn't had to for years. He's weirdly friendly and perky usually wearing that same smile, and very much enjoys talking. Oddly paranoid about being perceived as Normal despite not trying too hard to hide his odd behaviors in the long run. Good posture stands up very straight, likes to keep his surroundings tidy but isn't afraid to make a mess. He's a little greedy and doesn't like to share(he WILL, cause he knows that's the Polite and Normal thing to do, just a bit begrudgingly), Offer him basically anything he'll take it. His 'please and thank you's are obviously thrown on at the end of sentences as a standard manners sort of thing and not usually cause he means it.

He really likes collecting names cause names don't reset, but he only "keeps" them if they are willingly "given" to him(he will accept that you won't "give" it to him, he won't hide his disappointment over not getting it tho). He gets excited over New things or when something different happens, he's kinda like a depressed zoo animal that needs enrichment in his enclosure. He enjoys physical affection and will happily go along with pretty much any he's offered. Compliments go straight to his head. He this is kinda long I have many things to say about Norman and yet I feel like this is not fulfilling this ask skdhgjsg-

#talk #Norman Bossman #Your Normal Boss #I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SHORTEN THINGS TO SIMPLE TRAITS LIKE 'Oh he's a little bit arrogant'#Your Normal Lore

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pleathewrites · 3 years

Text

boys, boys, boys

chapter 2: revelations

Summary: Does Iwaizumi have a thing for setters or do setters have a thing for Iwaizumi?

“Maybe Iwa-kun does have a thing for grey hair,” Sugawara muses, the tip of his index finger circling the rim of his drink. He’s got that signature sly smirk across the very lips that locked with Hajime's a decade ago.

“Oh my God.”

Hajime is seriously considering begging Oikawa to jump-serve a volleyball to his head and knock him clean out just so they can all stop having this conversation - ‘Hell, Tooru’s strong as hell now. Might knock the entire memory of this night right out of my brain, for good.’

“Hey, I just made out with him - and possibly gave him his gay awakening. But I wasn’t the one who convinced him to change his career.”

“Oh my God.”

“Wait, what are you - ”

“Daichi, baby, seriously, you need to go see that doctor. I am actively concerned about you developing early-onset Alzheimer's," Sugawara says, tucking a strand of Sawamura's hair behind his ear, his impish smirk melting into a fond smile, "Does Shiratorizawa ring any bells?”

“Hey, I have my own life to worry about! I’m not gonna keep track of someone else’s love life - no offense, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Hey, non-taken. Please, never think about my love life.”

Much to Hajime’s horror, Daichi’s expression turns contemplative, “Wait, actually, though -”

“Fuck -”

“… Grey hair, Shiratorizawa...” Daichi snaps his fingers and points his index at Iwaizumi with a much-too-proud smile on his face, completely unaware of the man’s rising irritation. “Yes, right! Iwaizumi, didn’t you..?”

“Ugh, God, that one,” injects Oikawa.

Hajime feels the vein on his forehead throb at Oikawa’s tone, “Kawa... why are you so shitty.”

“Well, sorry, if I don’t like the edge-lord that busted my entire future!”

“Oikawa… You are literally at the Olympics… for the second time...”

“Yeah, with you on the opposing side,” Oikawa says with a closed throat, sliding out of the booth, and heading off to the direction of the entrance doors.

Hajime sighs.

Their loss to Shiratorizawa is soul-crushing - it always is.

‘Always’ - that’s the most crushing thing, Hajime despairs, ‘We always lose to that school.’ And Hajime feels the blow, of course, he's devastated, but it’s not personal, hell, it’s not even for his team - ‘God, I’m such a shitty Vice-Captain.’

No, the absolute heartbreak he feels is for Tooru.

Hajime loves his team, he believes every single member has outrageous talent, but he knows that all their abilities combined, including his own, wouldn’t even hold a candle to Oikawa’s blinding torch.

Shiratorizawa is a school for rising champions, Abo Johsai is a school for kids with talent.

Oikawa Tooru is on a completely different level, it's a fact - he outranks his own team. It keeps Hajime up at night because he knows that if Oikawa had a team that matched his talent and ability, he would never have to experience such consistent defeat.

In times like these, Hajime feels shameful and useless, ‘How long will I hold Oikawa back?’

Hajime knows Oikawa. He knows he’s the real reason Oikawa chose Abo Josai, that because Hajime wasn’t good enough to get into Shiratorizawa, Oikawa shackled himself to a team that weighs more than he can carry. It reminds Hajime of those free-body-diagrams from physics class that Oikawa had to explain to him ten times over; Oikawa is the upward force, striving for victory at the speed of light, Hajime is the opposing frictional force, and Abo Johsai is plain gravity times mass times sine (or was it cosine?). Hajime only managed to scrape a B- in that class, so the only answer he can give this problem is that Oikawa isn't going anywhere, any time soon.

A harsh slap to his back snaps Hajime out of his thoughts. He jumps with the force of it and doesn’t even have to turn his head to know who’s hand is laying firmly between his shoulder blades. He keeps his eyes downcast, but Oikawa - a true Captain - doesn’t force Hajime to look at him when he firmly whispers, “Next time, Iwa-chan. We’ll get ‘em.”

Their coach takes the team for ramen, gives them a speech about being proud and working hard, all while Oikawa is making faces at Hajime from across the table and, slowly, Hajime begins to let himself smile.

Halfway through dinner, Hajime feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Thinking it’s his mother asking when he’ll be home, Hajime turns on the lockscreen and sees it’s an Instagram notification. He unlocks his phone and swipes down his Notifications - Hajime had to reset his phone notifications to conceal messages ever since becoming friends with Sugawara Koushi because the boy has zero filter and he doesn’t need his mom accidentally seeing messages with eggplant and squirting emojis, encouraging Hajime to make ‘his move’, whatever that means.

EITA (@notsemisemi) has requested to follow you.

Now, Hajime is confused. He doesn’t even remember the last time he posted a picture on Instagram - he only really made the account because Oikawa started crying about, “Iwa-chan, I want to tag you in this picture, people should know that you’re capable of smiling! Everyone else has an Instagram, let me make you one, you won’t even have to do anything!” - so he’s not really sure how or why a random person requested to follow him.

'Maybe it's a spam account?'

He looks closely at the username and tries to think if he knows anyone with that name. When nothing comes to mind, he clicks on the person’s account and is met with very aesthetically angsty selfies of a grey-haired boy with sharp eyebrows and deep collarbones. ‘

He’s kind of…’ Hajime tries to think of the right words. He wants to say ‘pretty’, but that doesn’t feel right - Sugawara is pretty, Oikawa is pretty. Pretty people are soft and round and peppy. This guy is…

‘Hot.’

And weirdly familiar.

He elbows Matsukawa, who’s sitting on his right, and turns his phone screen towards the boy, “Do you know this guy?”

“Hmph?” Matsukawa’s lazy eyes roam over his screen and he swallows his food before speaking, “Yeah, isn’t that the reserve setter? He came in as a sub when Oikawa hit Shiratorizawa’s main setter.”

Like a self-conscious self-absorbed bat, whenever Oikawa’s name is merely uttered, the boy in question will hear it, no matter what he's doing, “Eh? Oikawa hit who? I swear, it couldn't have been me, I’m a pacifist!” And he proceeds to put his hands up in surrender.

The lightbulb goes off in Hajime's head, “Oh! When Oikawa jump-served the ball at that small guy’s face? With the uneven bangs?” He makes a downward sloping motion across his forehead.

“Yeah, that one,” Matsukawa points to the phone screen, “Pretty sure that’s the guy who subbed for the rest of the set.”

“Yeah…” Hajime trails, before adding softly, “He was good… Wonder why their coach didn't give him more playtime.”

Oikawa’s quick-clapping hands bring Hajime out of his thoughts, “Oh! I know what we’re talking about now! First off, I didn’t hit Shorty, he wasn’t fast enough, that’s the consequence of the game! Also, why are we talking about this?”

“Iwaizumi is on the sub’s Instagram page.”

Oikawa squeaks, “Is this about your grey-hair-slash-old-man fetish?!”

Hajime groans and facepalms, “No, oh my God, stop telling people I have a fetish, Shittykawa! He followed me.”

“Block him!”

Hajime sighs, locks his phone, and puts it away, “Just forget it.”

“Hmph. That guy’s not even first string. What does he want with our ace?”

Hanamaki joins in, “I wonder why he’s not first string, though. I’m pretty sure he’s a third year, he’s been there every time we played against them. 'M pretty sure that Shorty is definitely a second year.”

Oikawa’s face turns from snooty to serious and he crosses his arms, “He’s good, but he lacks instinct. His technique is fine, but he doesn’t have what Shorty does. Maybe if he worked harder, but from the looks of it tonight, he doesn’t want it bad enough. He’s not on Shiratorizawa’s level - maybe he was once, but not anymore.”

'Not on Shiratorizawa’s level… Sounds like we might have something in common, after all.’

That night, before Hajime goes to sleep, he accepts EITA’s follow request and follows him back.

continue to read chapter

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 3 years

Text

I genuinely do not know how to engage with the Loki fandom anymore without regularly tanking my mental health, and I have no idea what to do about it.

the thing about my brain is that it sucks, see, and one of the big ways in which it sucks is that it is incredibly easy for me to miserably fixate on anything that upsets me, which then often expands to include all kinds of other tangentially related things that also upset me, thereby becoming a very bad spiral even if the thing that originally upset me was objectively not a huge deal. (I’m also really, really good at catastrophizing, which just accelerates the whole process.) at best, I then find it completely possible to do much of anything, like work on anything creative, or do my actual job that pays my actual bills, or in general remember that anything good can ever happen again. about all I can do to reset my brain when that happens is to ignore every single one of my responsibilities and do something really distracting like playing a game so my brain is engaged in something other than eating itself alive, or maybe just take a sleeping pill and go to bed. (if neither is an option, then it just sucks even more.)

for reasons that I certainly hope are obvious, that’s something I prefer to avoid.

the thing about Loki is, he’s been my absolute favorite character for about a decade now. he’s my comfort character. I can’t reliably write anything except Loki fic (which would be enough of a personal investment even if I hadn’t written a fic or two that helped me deal with the death of my dog a few years ago and my generally unhealthy feelings about death as a concept, but I did that too). I’ve spent a not-inconsiderable amount of money--again, over the past decade--on my collection of Loki stuff because it makes me happy, and I’ve invested probably even more thought and emotion than money into this character. Loki, in general, is very important to me, if for no other reason than that he’s been part of my life for a long time.

and the thing about the Loki show specifically is, I mostly like it. in part this is because I want to like it, because I’m invested for all the reasons mentioned above. there have been aspects of every episode so far that I’ve enjoyed without reservation or qualification...and there have been aspects of every episode so far that have made me cringe or genuinely upset me for one reason or another. but because I want to like it, and because I have that tendency to fixate on things that upset me in a way that makes me absolutely miserable and renders my brain completely useless for doing anything except continuing to be upset, it is genuinely unhealthy for me to spend much time at all reading negativity about the show.

some of the criticism I don’t totally understand and that’s less of an issue, but a lot of it has merit, a lot pretty obviously comes from a place of actual pain, and there’s a lot I agree with (or at least understand even if a specific thing doesn’t bother me as much). so if I read much of it, I will fixate. I will lose sleep. I will be pretty much unable to do things I actually need or want to do. if I want to avoid those things, it’s not enough just to avoid reading really intense criticism of the show; I have to actively seek out positive opinions, both to reinforce my enjoyment of things I already liked and to provide additional viewpoints on things I didn’t particularly like on first watch so I can keep myself from fixating on them (which my brain is quite happy to do on its own, without even seeing specifically negative posts, so you can probably imagine how much worse my brain gets having the negative opinions reinforced).

like--maybe this all sounds kind of silly, I don’t know, but I’ve lived with this garbage brain for more than three decades and I have a pretty good idea of how it works, at least in terms of what makes it even more garbage. to take care of my mental health, I have to approach certain things in certain ways, and I’m...working on not feeling like that’s silly all by itself. in this specific case, that means avoiding a lot of the negativity and making an effort to seek out positive opinions. as long as people tag appropriately, that shouldn’t be hard, right?

well you’d think so, except actually no, because I’ve had the worst time finding people who like the show and don’t also spend a significant amount of their time dumping on fans who hate the show or just, like, have any issues at all with any aspect of it for any reason. it starts to feel like people think that if you’re not worshiping at Marvel’s feet and loving every second of everything in this massive profit-driven franchise, then you are deluded, whiny, entitled, stupid, sadistic, or some combination of the above. and you know what, maybe it’s weird but I absolutely find that just as upsetting as negativity about the show itself. constantly seeing that stuff is equally bad for my mental health, equally likely to make me miserably fixate on it and lead to a spiral of “everything is bad and hopeless and nothing will ever get better in literally any aspect of life so why even bother trying?”

for reasons that I once again hope are obvious, I still want to avoid that! regardless of the cause! and apparently...I don’t have that option. people typically don’t tag criticism of criticism, or at least not with anything specific enough to be really useful, and it sure seems like I can’t look for the positive opinions that help me enjoy the show and avoid unhappily fixating on things I didn’t like, while also avoiding the negative opinions about other fans that also get me unhappily fixated on things that upset me. so the only alternative is, what, take several steps back from fandom entirely? well, I’d have to stop using Tumblr at all for at least a couple weeks, probably avoid the finale for quite a while, stop writing for the most part because Loki fic is too tied up in the overall fandom and I struggle too much with writing anything else, stop reading most fic for the same reason, stop working on customizing any Funko figures or other action figures that aren’t just for Etsy, and generally give up a lot of things that make me happy. weirdly enough, I don’t want to do that either.

if everyone in this fandom 1) tagged appropriately and consistently and 2) stopped being unnecessarily mean to and about their fellow human beings, I’m pretty sure it would be basically fine. and of course there’s no possible way I can make that happen. if I want to keep enjoying something that does genuinely make me happy often enough to be worthwhile to me, it seems like I just have to choose between two different types of mental-health minefields rather than, you know, being able to avoid all the mines.

so what am I supposed to do with that?

(this is...more or less okay to reblog if you’ve felt at all the same way, wherever you might fall in your opinions about the show itself, as long as you make sure to not be an asshole about it to anyone. this is not the place to talk about how much you hate the show, and it is also not the place to talk about how awful Those Whiny Fans are. take that somewhere else and for god’s sake put a useful tag on it.)

#loki #loki show #loki series #marvel cinematic universe #brains behaving badly #mental health issues #I don't know what else to tag this #loki spoilers #not really but just in case #really hope I don't regret posting this

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asongeverlasting · 3 years

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Happy Holidays @adrienettes-hamster!! I was your backup gifter for @mlsecretsanta this year! I hope you enjoy this platonic Ladynoir bonding :)

Many thanks to @strangerahne for beta-reading!

Laughing in the Starlight

read on AO3

Marinete had known this was a bad idea the first time he suggested it, but that meant nothing. Even with all the luck in the world, she could never hold out against his kitty eyes and impassioned pleas for very long. One would think she'd have some sort of immunity, after babysitting Manon for so long, but no dice. It was almost as if his kitty eyes were magically augmented or something. No ordinary human should be able to expand their pupils that wide. It was just ridiculous. (Utterly ridiculous, her internal monologue supplied unhelpfully.)

And really, it was just a game of Truth or Dare. As Chat Noir helpfully pointed out the third time he tried persuading her to play, if she was really worried about secret identity things, nothing was stopping her from just choosing dare every time. Eventually, after two weeks straight of him bugging her during patrol, she gave in. Sort of.

Her acquiescence was accompanied by a number of ground rules designed to safeguard their identities and avoid injuries (practically a necessity when pitting two teenage superheroes against each other in a game designed to embarrass). She also added three vetoes apiece, just in case. Going into the game, Ladybug felt confident that she was prepared for anything, because her rules accounted for every possible awkward situation — and they would have, were her opponent anyone but Chat. Right now, sitting on an isolated rooftop three rounds into the game, she knew she'd made a mistake. Nothing could have prepared her for what he was throwing her way.

“Okay, so, imagine you were suddenly turned into a peach pit that was inside of a ripe peach and on a tree, and then the peach fell off the tree, sprouted, and you grew out of it back to the body you were before turning into the peach pit. Then imagine all this happened in the span of twenty minutes. What would be the first thing you did after all this happened?"

Her brain refused to compute. “Sorry, what?”

Chat just smiled earnestly at her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Did- did someone turn me into the peach pit?” she stammered, totally taken aback.

“Take it however you want, I just want an answer to my question.” Chat seemed shockingly normal for someone who had just spouted the most ridiculously out-there question she'd ever heard. Did these sorts of thoughts just exist in his brain?

How did one even begin to handle such a situation? But then again, stranger akumas had happened. “I guess I’d… first try to figure out how I’d been turned into a peach in the first place—“

“Peach pit, you mean,” he prompted, leaning forward.

“Yeah, that.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d probably also grab another peach off the tree to use as a weapon if I needed it. Oh wait, are the other peaches also people?”

His grin grew even wider before he responded. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out”

She shot him a frosty glare and responded, deadpan, “Horrible.”

“So….. what would you do?” he asked, genuinely curious now.

“Hmm. Probably... pull a peach off the tree so I have something to throw, look for the culprit - which was probably an akuma, honestly - and if I find no one, then get to high ground and keep looking. Oh, and before I leave, toss the peach at you like so.” She picked up a small pebble from the rooftop beside her and threw it at Chat, who yelped and turned away.

“Hey, what was that for?" Chat pouted.

Ladybug winked. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."

"Ah-hah-hah I see what you did there," he said, shooting finger guns at her. "Very clever. Now, I believe it's your turn again, Milady. I hope you come up with something interesting." He quirked a brow in challenge.

"Alright Kitty-Cat, truth..." She paused dramatically. "Or dare?"

"Dare, if you please."

"Hmm…" she mused, glancing around for inspiration. An idea came when her eyes landed on a house with two chimneys, about eight feet apart from one another. "Oh! Okay, I got it. Stick your baton between those two chimneys over there, grab it, then swing and flip yourself onto it, landing on your feet. Dramatic dismount for bonus points."

The spark of excitement in Chat's eyes had grown with every word she spoke. As soon as she finished laying down the challenge, he leapt up gracefully and bounded over to the designated rooftop, Ladybug following close behind.

Unsurprisingly, he executed the sequence perfectly, swinging around his baton like a gymnast on the uneven bars before landing on it, striking a pose, and backflipping off, all with the grace of a jungle cat.

She applauded as he put his baton away and sauntered over to where she now sat.

He gave a courtly bow before sitting down opposite her. "Only the best for the lady! My turn now, so choose your poison."

"Umm… I think I'll mix it up a bit with a dare."

"Okay, I dare you to…" Chat began slowly, "pick up the pointiest rock you can find, show it to me for approval, and then hold it in one of your armpits for the next two questions. Oh, and if you drop it at any point, the question count resets."

Ladybug shot him a dirty look before searching around for an appropriate rock. She picked up two, showed them both to Chat for inspection, and then unceremoniously stuck the chosen one under her left arm, taking care not to press too tight. "My turn now. Pick."

"Sheesh, someone's prickly! Something jabbing at you?" Chat snickered at the growl she let loose when his pun registered. "Truth! I pick truth."

She thought for a minute before speaking. "You claim that you're just a human with weird cat traits instead of the cat I'm convinced you are. Now, if I were right and you were an actual cat, what weirdly human trait would you have?"

Chat furrowed his brow in contemplation. "There's so many options to choose from! If I had to pick one… I'd probably make human sounds, either so my meows would sound like a real person making them, or so I'd scare the real humans in the house by saying 'hewwo' or something"

"An agent of chaos! Now, that sounds just like you. And I know better than anyone how much you hate not making human sounds," she chuckled.

He tried to mock pout, but couldn't hide his smile. "Okay, okay, my turn again. Truth or dare?"

"Ugh, I don't want to move with this thing under my arm. Truth."

With a soft laugh, Chat responded, "Well, now I know how to get you to answer my questions! Okay, okay, don't hurt me!" he exclaimed, raising a placating hand when he saw her glare turn threatening. "My question for you is… what name would you want to have, if your name wasn't what it is? And don't say this is against the rules, you could even give me your real name and I'd have no idea, so there's no way I can use this to ferret out your secret identity."

"Uhh…" She tilted her head to one side as she considered her options. "I'm not sure… maybe Celeste, or Isabelle? Or… Oh! I've always been partial to the name Bridgette, so I'd probably pick that."

"Bridgette, huh? I bet you'd have gotten along with one of my good friends. She's incredibly sweet and caring, like you. And her name sort of rhymes with your fake one! And she—" he cut his speech short, noticing that he was heading off on a tangent. "Anyway, spoilers aside, she's pretty great."

"Seems like Kitty might have a crush, hmmm? I hope this girl is worth your affections," teased Ladybug. "Must be something special if she's caught the eye of the great Chat Noir."

"Oh no, no crush! I only have eyes for you! I mean really, for yonder Tour Eiffel is the east, and you are my sun. This girl is… just a very good friend." The look on her face made it seem like she was intent on pursuing this line of teasing, so he hurriedly went on. "Also, I pick dare, and your rock dare is finished. You can drop the pebble now."

"Very smooth, Kitty," she said sarcastically, releasing the stone, "but moving onto the next turn might not save you. I can still dare you to answer a truthful question, don't you forget."

Chat's eyes widened briefly in shock before his expression morphed into his patented kitty pout — peeking out from beneath his lashes, pupils blown wide and shining, lower lip stuck out and quivering, head tilted to the side just so. "You wouldn't do that to me, would you? That would be so mean!"

She narrowed her eyes and met his pleading gaze with a stony stare of her own for a few moments, but then broke away with an exasperated sigh. "Fine, I'll play nice. But one of these days I'm gonna figure out how to defeat your pout, and then you'll be in for some serious trouble," she warned, waggling a finger at him. "Okay, your dare is to… sing about a minute of a song, but replace every fifth word with the word croissant. And I have to approve your choice before you start singing! Also, if you start laughing, you have to start again. Think you can handle it?"

"I'm all over it! Just give me a minute to think up the perfect tune to serenade you with!" he proclaimed confidently.

"No problem, just as long as there's no cat-erwauling," she said with a smirk.

He froze. "Wait, was that a pun?"

She looked at him, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips, but did not reply.

"Not gonna admit it, huh? That's fine. I think I have just the song for you. Go ahead and stop me if you don't approve." He stood and bowed like a maestro walking onstage for a piano recital. "Now, just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show, milady."

With that, he began humming and plucking at an imaginary… cello? Bass? Some sort of large string instrument. He opened his mouth, and sang (in a surprisingly smooth tenor), "I've got a gal croissant always late, any time croissant got a date. But I croissant her, I've gotta ask her, croissant you is or is croissant ain't my babyy?" His voice wavered with suppressed laughter by the third croissant, but he pressed on, counting out words on his fingers as he mimed plucking the strings. Ladybug had no such luck holding back her giggles and had to bite down on her own hand to smother some of the noise. "Maybe baby's croissant somebody new... or is my croissant still my baby truuuue?"

Chat finished the chorus with a flourish on his imaginary instrument before promptly dissolving into peals of laughter and plopping down in a heap next to his partner. They both just sat there chuckling for a while, trying very hard not to look at each other — for every time they calmed down slightly and their eyes met, they burst into laughter and had to start the process all over again. Eventually, they managed to regain control of themselves and quiet down. Tired now, they laid down on their backs, heads beside one another, feet stretched in opposite directions, and looked up at the few stars visible in Paris's night sky. For several minutes, neither of them made a sound.

"Wow," Ladybug breathed, breaking the silence, "what a view. I could just lay here all night."

Chat hummed in agreement. After a few moments, he shifted and turned his head slightly so he could see her profile. "Hey Ladybug," he said softly. She turned to look at him. "Truth or dare?"

She smiled. "Truth," she answered, just as softly.

"If you were playing Max's akuma game, but with Disney/Pixar characters, and the computer chose Hawkmoth, which character would you pit against him?" When she didn't speak for a few moments, he continued, "Take your time, it's a very important decision."

Ladybug pondered her options for a minute or two, weighing the pros and cons of various animated characters. All of a sudden, inspiration struck, and she let out a quiet giggle at her stroke of genius. "Oh, I have the perfect idea: the Pixar lamp." And she turned to him expectantly, amusement and pride evident in her expression.

Forehead wrinkled in confusion, he said, "I don't get it. Explain?"

She propped herself up on an elbow so she could see him better. "Okay, um… look at it this way. He calls himself Hawkmoth, which is a species of moth, right?"

He nodded.

She went on, "And moths are attracted to light and heat, to the point that they sometimes act drunk around things like lightbulbs and small flames."

Another nod.

"Plus, take into account the fact that you and I have some traits from our namesakes — you purr and I snack on flowers."

A rueful chuckle accompanied the next nod.

"So, it makes sense that Hawkmoth might be attracted to lamps. But then, the coup de graçe: do you remember what the Pixar lamp does?"

"It… hops?" Comprehension dawned. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "I get it." He started to laugh again, softly at first, then louder.

Ladybug laughed along with him, trying to speak through her mirth. "So... hahaha... I'm just imagining *snort* Hawkmoth... heeheehee... trying to chase the lamp around, while this… sentient lamp... *giggle*… just keeps trying to bonk him and jump on his head!" She pressed a hand to her stomach, laughing until it was difficult to breathe. "We wouldn't even be needed anymore!"

At this, Chat laughed so hard that his voice was no longer audible, and he just lay there, shaking and gasping for air. Finally, he caught his breath enough to gesture wildly and choke out, "Milady, you're a genius! Hawkmoth would totally just be running around like… *snicker*… 'LAMPY! Let me love you!' and the lamp would be like *BONK* and then… bahaha… they'd be together forever! *snort* Honestly, this is more of a ship than a fight!" His arms dropped back to his stomach as he fell into another fit of laughter.

The two of them laughed and laughed until their stomachs ached and tears streamed from their eyes, and the sounds of their voices echoed across the Parisian skyline. When they'd nearly laughed themselves hoarse, a sense of peace stole over them, and their minds and voices grew quiet and calm once more. They continued to lay there for several minutes, soaking in the comfortable silence, feeling — for once — completely in tune with the world around them.

"Hey, Chat?" Ladybug murmured.

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you're my partner. There's no one I'd rather be here with than you."

He smiled and gently touched his head to hers. "You and me, Milady. Forever."

Hawkmoth and the rest of the world could wait.

Right here, right now?

This moment was theirs alone.

#mlsecretsanta #my writing #ml fic #ladynoir #lovesquare #platonic ladynoir #truth or dare #laughing in the starlight

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reachexceedinggrasp · 4 years

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Fated to Love You here reaffirming my long held conviction that no pure romance drama should be 20+ episodes.

This show is... really something. It is, in the fullest possible sense, A Lot. It starts out as an all-out screwball comedy wrapped around a troperiffic romance fluff plot. Wall to wall clichés, but not in a bad way; in a meta, self-aware, peak performance, finest Velveeta way. And if you’re not familiar with screwball comedy, think ‘light-hearted crack fic with slapstick and farce’. There is nothing believable or grounded about any aspect of it, it starts at Bonkers Level: Platinum and it only climbs higher as it goes on.

(On a side note, this results in the leading man being possibly the most memorable love interest in romcom history. His introduction scene is nothing short of batshit insane and you can't reliably predict how he will respond to anything. I have never seen a main character like this, he is all over the shop and utterly singular. Your first reaction to him is ‘wtf?’, your second and third reactions are ‘really?! this guy??’, your fourth reaction is ‘okay he do be mad hot tho’, your fifth and final reaction is ‘I cannot believe this performance exists, I have no idea what he is doing, but it is amazing.’

Appropriately(?) the actor who plays him is an uncanny Korean doppelgänger of Johnny Depp and- between the resemblance, the mannerisms, and the fearless total commitment to a bold as fuck acting choice with the very serious chops to back it up- I’m not convinced they aren’t half brothers separated at birth.

They do sabotage my happiness several times by starting to randomly style his (long, beautiful) hair very weird, fixing it right when the plot is rapidly circling the drain so he looks his hottest just as the show becomes briefly unwatchable, and then ruining him for the entire second half of the series by shearing it all off. WHY, my anguished cry goes up. Why do you do this?! Why does he have like seven hairstyles over the course of the show? Much later they even briefly give him that ubiquitous Kdrama Second Lead haircut with weirdly forward combed fringe in a solid straight line across the brow all the way back from the crown. It looks terrible on everyone and I hate it so much. This version was less bad than most but it is still bad. Anyway.)

So it’s an incredibly fun time to start but there are some problems with the tone and plot even in the first 9 episodes, including when the lovers start getting along really well right away and they’re both thoroughly decent people so there’s nothing keeping them from having a lovely time together making the best of the circumstances (forced/fake marriage). And, instead of introducing new conflict or advancing one of the dozen conflicts previously established and actually moving forward, there is a painfully contrived rehash of something they already dealt with which is then just never resolved. They make the hero leap to a conclusion his wife is nefarious after he’d already decided once that she isn’t (though it was completely reasonable for him to think she was- the fact that he decided to trust her so quickly just speaks to what kind of person he is), never try to find out more or talk to anyone about it, start pushing her away because of it, and have all this come to absolutely nothing. It only exists so he’ll stop being so incredibly nice to her and they won’t fall in love too fast.

You’d think they would have to eventually clear the air before the romance advances right? No. It wasn’t a real plot point, it was just a reset button to get them estranged and hostile again after they connect over their kindred spirits and we’ve spent a bunch of time showing how profoundly supportive and honourable our hero is. He’s being beautifully mature and selfless because he’s a really good dude (unusual for a romcom drama, right? for the main guy to be nice and considerate? to accept responsibility even if he doesn’t have to? Gun’s weird but he’s wonderful), but the writers need him to be cold and standoffish, so they just make him act like an unreasonable idiot for a while. He’s been thus far hugely proactive and direct and honest about everything, it’s one of his most prominent character traits, but suddenly he’s going to avoid confrontation in favour of being super passive aggressive?? Then the writers never solve it. Never! It just goes away. He got over it, I guess? He decided he doesn’t care if she’s a gold digger who deliberately trapped him? God forbid we have motivations that make sense and organic character drama, right? It's not like he didn't have totally valid reasons to be suspicious that could have led to legitimate conflict our heroine would struggle to vindicate herself from.

But anyway, apart from that kind of lazy bullshit, it’s a fine romance plot with extremely endearing characters who have great chemistry. They are fun and well-rounded and incredibly human despite all the silliness and OTT antics. Their relationship is hugely, hugely engaging and the dynamic is perfect, they really complement each other as characters and organically drive each other's arcs. There's the genuine depth and warmth and quiet pathos so often lacking from this kind of show. Things progress at a semi-reasonable pace. They work up to confessing their mutual feelings and get into some cute shenanigans before making out. It happens soon enough that you are not frustrated, but there's still plenty of build-up. Then- uh oh! We’re only 9 eps in and we have another 11 hours to fill with this fluffy plot!

Time for a bunch of absolute fucking nonsense. Time for our show, which has been so goofy and removed from reality it occasionally resembles a Monty Python skit, which has been so light it asks you to ignore the frankly incredibly fucked up implications of its premise for the sake of comedy (they were both drugged and proxy raped resulting in a pregnancy- the FL was a virgin prior to this and Gun had a girlfriend he wanted to propose to- and it was the FL’s family who did this to them: SUPER FUCKED UP), so farcical that it makes Some Like it Hot look like a gritty crime drama, that show to cover a bunch of serious heavy shit.

First, the rankest of melodrama. The families and the world all turn on our couple, but their love is true and will conquer all- UNTIL, he randomly collapses and gets convenient Soap Opera Amnesia. He’s forgotten their entire relationship and a series of coincidental pieces of misconstrued evidence, the machinations of his scheming ex girlfriend, the Soap Opera Doctor’s advice, and his closest confidants all going along with this conspire to make him believe (AGAIN) that his wife just wants his money.

This whole terrible episode is mercifully brief, but it just gets worse after his memory returns. This is where we get into the Noble Idiocy. The ‘pretend you don’t love them to “save them” from getting hurt by hurting them and making their important life decisions for them as if they don’t have a basic fucking right to decide that themselves’ kind. Which goes on for three FUCK years in the show. He wastes three years of their lives they could have spent together because he’s worried he might die young (in a terrible way) and doesn’t want to put her through that. And, of course, they inevitably get together later, so all he did was make it infinitely worse for her either way. To say nothing of how he thus couldn’t be there for her through the loss of their child. Possibly my most hated fucking trope of all time when done this way.

And, yep, you read that right. This show that has the single most batshit bonkers over the top slapstick I have ever seen in a kdrama, this show has a storyline where the fluffy romcom trope accidental pregnancy ends in massive trauma. Because she was standing around in the street after realising he does remember her (he continued to pretend he had amnesia after his memories came back, it’s all part of the stupid noble idiocy so I glossed over it) and gets hit by a car in the middle of their angst staring.

It is nearly Meet Joe Black levels of hilariously abrupt and incongruous.

so, blah blah, they lose their baby (there’s a very stupid whole thing about her telling everyone to save the baby instead of her- the baby is not far enough along for this to have been remotely viable. She is like 3 months pregnant. They all act like there’s a choice to be made between them and she’s mad at her husband for choosing to save her, but there was NO CHOICE. Either she lives or they both die! ffs I’m so irritated about this) and then he dumps her ~for her own good~~ because he loves her too much to make her go through losing him? So she loses him sooner?? right after their baby died???

Why do people in these stories always think being betrayed and abandoned for no reason and being incredibly angry at someone you love while also not getting to be with them is somehow less painful than making the best of your life together and then losing them against their will? ‘I will make her hate me and then she won’t be sad we broke up/I died!!!!’ is such a fucking galaxy brain take and I despise it with the heat of ten thousand suns. Fuck you, Spider-Man. You aren’t protecting anyone, the villains still know you love MJ and will still use her against you, you clod. Emotionally torturing the person you love is not going to make them not a target because the villains are not as fucking stupid as you two. Anyway.

Amnesia was right where I started fast-forwarding and skipping around (because I couldn’t bear it), but it only goes downhill from there. Maybe I would have toughed out more of the wretched middle part plot twist if they hadn’t cut all the hot guy’s hair off. If I’m going to watch total nonsense tedious melodrama, I need it to at least be pretty. I understand it was a Symbolic Haircut but damnit! Let me have this!

And it ultimately does the thing that kdramas seem obsessed with and which makes me want to claw out my own eyeballs with frustration. There’s a giant time skip, the female lead gets a personality transplant, all narrative momentum is lost, and the characters who eventually (at ENORMOUS length) get together permanently are essentially completely different characters with a completely different dynamic than the couple you were shipping for 90% of the story. It is so FUCKING unsatisfying and it is EVERYWHERE.

Not so much with this one because this one still had a lot of very romantic scenes late in the game, but most that do this, it’s also like all the romance is sucked out of the post-time skip episodes and the ending is a consolation prize instead of a triumphant culmination. Inevitably, the heroine abruptly cools off and is suddenly wary of the hero and wants this Important New Career she never mentioned until the penultimate episode but is now her one true life’s dream. What the apparently irresistible appeal is of these contrived separations and demure conclusions is I CANNOT FATHOM. I’m here for the fucking romance guys, you have not made Citizen Kane, please just indulge me with a big schmoopy finale.

And if not that, it’s frequently that there’s been so many random mood swings and so much shitty behaviour by the end that the relationship doesn’t make sense and you don’t know why they even bother to get back together.

I’m not inherently against all misunderstandings (they are the bread and butter of low stakes romance let’s be real) or attempts at noble idiocy from misguided characters, but the duration and seriousness of the drama these generate needs to be in proportion to how ridiculous they are. If your entire plot can be solved by a thirty second conversation there is NO REASON not to have and the continuation of the misunderstanding is a result of someone just NOT SPEAKING UP when any functional human being would have spoken up seven times by now IT’S BAD.

Do little cliff-hangers, whatever, but don’t draaaaagg out silly misconceptions into Shakespearean tragedy, it’s just wearying. It makes me hate the characters for acting like emotionally constipated toddlers with terminal stupidity. If there is so little trust, so little understanding, and so little basic patience between these people, they probably shouldn’t be dating, so try fucking harder, writers. And noble idiocy that is more than an impulse they fairly quickly see the error of is just insulting. You are not helping the other person, you are being domineering and selfish. I have a whole complex about wasting time and seeing endless parades of characters flushing years down the toilet for literally no reason gives me hives. Especially when the whole issue is about time!

(And, btw, so much of the plot is about how desperately the family needs an heir and everyone still wanting them to have kids the second time they get together- while the ~dilemma used to keep them apart is a GENETIC DISEASE which could STRIKE AT ANY TIME. Do you SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THIS WRITERS????? NO, I KNOW YOU DON’T. ommmmmmmmggggg that’s awful! So they’re just dooming more kids to Soap Opera Brain Disease? And maybe growing up without a father just as Gun did? And no one even considers suggesting adoption??? He never considers that he shouldn’t have biological children despite thinking he shouldn’t have a wife?)

ANYWAY. Please do watch the first nine episodes and the last three, it’s bananas. They are cute as fuck, Gun is The Best, and the tropey romance scenes are top quality. You don't get those things executed so well, it doesn't happen, so you need this in your life. The acting is of a calibre you never usually see in modern romcoms; these are people at the top of their game committing utterly and taking these characters completely seriously. In that way it is pure wish fulfilment for me as someone who loves romance and is almost always disappointed by popular romance media, and thus the show is incalculably special. But skip the middle. Just skip it. It's not worth the suffering. I find the tone whiplash honestly just this side of crass.

I’ve been thinking about it for over a week and I truly love the main characters so it did plenty right, but I just cannot with wedding the two things this show is trying to be together, especially when it goes so hard in two mutually exclusive directions. but also the Meet Joe Black sudden car accident device is not redeemable under any circumstances. Can we never do that again, please.

#fated to love you #kdrama #jang hyuk #writing

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thewhumperinwhite · 4 years

Text

FBI AU: Interrogation

Continued from Rescue. I’ll update my story and character list with more info about this one eventually, I swear. In the meantime if you’re curious you can always send me an ask, Every Side Character Has A Deep And Fascinating Backstory Because Of Who I Am As A Person.

TW for: panic attack, vomiting, referenced noncon, stitches

Thankfully, Simon’s shoulder is about as minor as gunshot wounds get.

The gun is high enough caliber that while the hole is fairly large and the bone isn’t in great shape, the bullet was never in there festering, so they sew him closed and tie it in a sling with stern instructions not to move it, and they let him wander around within twenty-four hours of his arrival at the hospital, with instructions not to leave or fall asleep without permission, since the man he now knows was Tenor Bradshaw apparently had fists made of granite. He gets debriefed by more than one Bureau official, though Farah is notably absent, which is a bit of a relief, to be honest. He kind of can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now. He also talks to the local chief of police, after getting clearance from the Bureau, since the murders took place in his city. He does not answer the many requests for interviews, though the Bureau invites him to come stand at the press conference. The outreach officer who asks him is visibly disappointed; he knows they’ll ask Rona next and he guesses she might even say yes, but he knows his sling would make him good press. He doesn’t have the stomach for it at the moment.

Instead he finds the reception desk and asks for Heinrich Arthur Lange’s room.

He knows the kid’s name now, it was the first thing he asked when he woke up. He also knows that he’s the surviving son of Senator Heinrich Lange Senior and the solution to a missing person’s case that hadn’t been his division, obviously; apparently the kid disappeared from the Senator’s secure townhouse three weeks ago, which is a hell of a long time to be chained to a wall, and an unthinkably long time to be alone with at least two violent rapists.

Simon doesn’t look at his chart, because he already knows more than he wants to. He asks the doctor about the prognosis, and it’s about what he expected, though to be honest he’s surprised the boy’s heart is still beating--in addition to all the injuries Simon could see and feel, the kid lost a dangerous percentage of his blood volume, triggering a stroke. Parts of his brain look wonky on scans, probably were even before Tenor Bradshaw hit him with a fist like a freight-train, but there’s no way to know the extent of the damage until and unless he wakes up and tries to talk. The doctor calls his survival to this point a miracle, but Simon remembers how he looked at Tenor Bradshaw and thinks god had very little to do with it; that skinny kid just has a spine of steel.

He’s deeply unconscious when Simon goes in to see him, and presumably will be for a while. His shoulder and hip needed to be reset; the hip was broken and had started to heal badly, and Simon thinks they had to rebreak it, though he was thankfully out at the time. Some of the cuts on his mouth had needed stitches, and he was probably already concussed when Simon found him, before Tenor’s punch fractured his skull. There are bandages wrapped firmly around his head, and they’ve bandaged his swollen eye over, something about broken blood vessels. The doctor almost straight didn’t believe Simon when he told him the boy had been awake and talking, though Simon had told him he could see how much it took out of him. The doctor just shook his head and said he hoped it hadn’t worsened his condition too much, which made Simon feel like scum even though he doesn’t really think there’s anything he could have done differently.

Simon knows the Coven members have given statements, including Karim Mun, who seems to have spent the most time with the kid. Simon has pointedly not asked about them, though he did hear that Mun had asked if he could see him, which made his vision go red for a while until he did some very regulated breathing. In the Coven members’ defense, they all agree that they thought he was dead for at least the last two days he was held in Micah Trent’s torture room, and DNA tests seem to show that only Trent and Tenor Bradshaw actually raped him, though given that most of the other Coven members are women, Simon isn’t sure how much that’s actually worth.

Simon flops into one of the chairs around the kid’s bed, scrubbing a hand over his face. It’s all so fucking awful; thinking about it makes his head hurt worse than it already does.

He looks up too fast when he hears the door open, and Farah is already in the room by the time the stars clear from his vision. He starts to leap to his feet, but she holds out a hand to stop him.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Agent Blake,” Farah says, and her voice sounds different than usual, almost gentle. Simon sinks back down, his body grateful even though it feels disrespectful.

“Did you get to--” He isn’t sure how to ask. “Farah... is it them?”

Farah isn’t looking at him, though she nods in response to his question; she moves forward to take the seat at the head of Heinrich Arthur Lange’s bed.

“It’s them,” she says softly.

“Jesus,” Simon says. He has no idea how she’s feeling, whether to be happy or horrified for her. “Farah, I’m--I don’t know what to say.”

Farah looks at him then, and she smiles, though it looks a bit--baffled. “My children are alive, Agent Blake,” she says. “There’s a lot more--a lot that needs working out, between the three of us and the court system, too, I guess, but that’s the biggest part. He didn’t kill them.”

Simon twitches slightly. He doesn’t say what he’s thinking, which is that Trent did something much worse and made them monsters instead. It’s not his place. Holding it in is kind of hard work, though.

Farah smiles, like she knows what he’s thinking and it doesn’t hurt her. She looks back down at what’s left of Arthur Lange. “You found him, huh?” she says in Simon’s direction.

Simon swallows hard. “Yeah.” He doesn’t really want to talk about this, not with Farah, but he doesn’t catch himself before he blurts out, “He mentioned him. Karim.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Your son, I mean.”

Farah looks at him, a tad sharply. “What did he say?”

He said it with his mouth full of blood, and it almost tore him apart, Simon doesn’t say. “I didn’t really understand. He asked if we’d found him. He said--to tell Karim that Micah hadn’t killed him.” Simon feels his face twitch, but isn’t sure what he’s feeling exactly. “I don’t know why.”

Farah nods slowly, and looks down at Arthur Lange, who is nineteen and may never wake up. “I see,” she says.

Simon wants to hold it in, because none of this is Farah’s fault, and it must hurt her more than it hurts him, but he doesn’t make it. “Farah,” he says. “Did Karim Mun--Did Karim do this?” Farah looks confused, and Simon waves his good arm jerkily. “I know Micah Trent did it. I’m asking--if Karim brought him in. If he let him. If he--gave this kid to Micah Trent.”

Farah looks at him, and she doesn’t really look angry, thank god, though he can’t read her face beyond that.

“My son was missing for almost ten years,” Farah says, and Simon winces, because yeah, that’s what he’s been trying not to let himself forget. Farah waves his chagrin away. “What I’m saying is, I don’t know who he’s become in that time.” She pauses to catch her breath; that’s not a sentence anybody can say without pain, even Farah Mun. “I do know he wasn’t a particularly good liar before, and that his story seems to match up with the others’. But I only have their word at this point, and I’m not promising you it’s the truth.” She looks at Simon, maybe to see if he accepts her premise, and he nods warily. “He says he didn’t.”

Simon’s lip curls before he can help it, even though he asked. “Of course he does.”

Farah sighs, and rubs one of her eyes; Simon starts, it’s such a weirdly human gesture, like she’s acknowledging that even she can’t help but be exhausted by this. “I know there’s no reason for you to believe I can be objective about this,” she says tiredly. “I’m still his mother, death-cult member or no. But for whatever it’s worth--” She lowers her hand and makes eye contact with Simon, like she’s making sure he remembers who she is, and to be honest, it means more than he feels like it should. “I believe him, for now.”

Simon looks down at Arthur Lange to get out of looking at her face, and it’s a mistake. He’s nineteen, and Simon’s had so much of his blood on his shirt. He feels exhausted suddenly, like he’s just now remembering that it doesn’t really matter either way; knowing whether Karim Mun is or isn’t a monster won’t make this kid wake up without brain damage.

“I hope you’re right,” Simon says, and it’s true, and not just for Farah’s sake. The kid hadn’t asked about Karim Mun like he hated him.

“So do I,” Farah says, and she reaches out to touch Arthur Lange’s hand, the one that isn’t wrapped up in a sling to avoid strain on his shoulder, but is studded with a stomach-turning number of tubes. “If Karim’s lying, he’s a better liar and a worse man than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Simon looks at her face when she says that, and sort of wishes he hadn’t; she looks for a second a little like a mother whose missing children are probably going to be tried for murder.

“Farah,” Simon says, and isn’t sure what to say after that. He’s grateful when she sighs and gets briskly to her feet.

“I have a small mountain of paperwork to fill out, in addition to the number of different kinds of therapists I have to find,” she says, and yeah, he doesn’t envy her that part. “If he wakes before I’m back, tell him--” She glances down at the bruised body in the bed, and laughs, a little hysterically. “I have no idea what you should tell him, actually. Do your best.” She gives him a half-salute, and walks out.

Simon watches her go, and then he squares his shoulders, and takes his time getting to his feet. He knows where to go next.

There’s a guard posted at the door of Karim Mun’s hospital room, but he isn’t handcuffed to the bed, which seems highly premature to Simon, but he guesses it isn’t his decision, and he hasn’t heard anything about any of the Coven members trying to escape, and maybe it isn’t worth it just for the principle of the thing. Simon tries not to let it bias him. It doesn’t feel like it’s working.

Karim Mun is twenty-four; Micah Trent took him when he was fifteen and his father was dying of prostate cancer. Simon knows all this from Farah, and knows that it should impact the way he feels right now more than it is, but all he can think about is that Karim Mun is right now working his way through a bowl of scrambled eggs, while Arthur Lange might never be able to eat on his own again. It’s an easy thought to get distracted by.

Karim turns to look at him when he enters the room. His hair is bleach-blonde, cut in a way that is probably highly fashionable when styled but is now a mess of curls hanging in his face; he has the slightly shrunken look of someone who has lost a great deal of weight in a very short amount of time, hollow cheeks and sunken eyes.

“I thought I’d answered all your questions,” he says in a slightly scratchy voice, sounding not resentful so much as tired. He blinks at the look on Simon’s face, a little guarded. Simon has no idea what that look might be; he’s trying hard to keep his face neutral.

Simon sits down next to Karim Mun’s bed, to give himself time to take a few surreptitious deep breaths. Then he makes firm eye contact, which Karim accepts, looking a bit wary. His eyes are a pale greenish-blue, striking against his brown skin; probably he’s very handsome when he’s less exhausted. Simon tries not to let this make him angrier.

“You’re Karim Mun,” Simon says, even though he already knows that. Karim nods once, waiting. “I’m Agent Simon Blake. I found Heinrich Lange in your little compound.”

All the blood visibly leaves Karim’s face. If the eggs weren’t already resting on his tray table, he’d certainly drop them; his fork clatters loudly to the floor as it is. He stares at Simon, face almost green, but doesn’t say anything.

“He asked about you,” Simon says finally, and Karim sits bolt upright so fast he does upend the tray table, eggs flying everywhere; Simon can see his heart rate skyrocket and sighs, not wanting to be interrupted by orderlies.

“Is he awake?” Karim demands, and Simon waves at him dismissively.

“No. They don’t know if he’s going to. Sit down.”

The life drains back out of Karim’s face immediately and he flops back down against the pillows, looking weaker than he did when Simon entered. Simon frowns at him, not sure how to feel.

“He asked if we’d found you,” he says, and Karim closes his eyes. “He told me to tell you that Micah Trent didn’t kill him. I guess you know that by now.”

Karim lets out a shuddering breath and scrubs at his eyes with tube-studded hands.

“I didn’t know,” he says very quietly. “I thought--I saw them bleed him. I saw his eyes go dead. I thought he was gone.”

He looks at Simon, his hands tightening into fists on his blankets. His eyes are suspiciously shiny.

“I wouldn’t have left him with them if I’d known he was alive. I’d have taken that stupid key from Diana or torn the hinges off the door or something. I’d have died before I left him there. You have to believe that.”

Simon feels his face twist at that last part. “I don’t have to believe anything,” he snaps. Simon realizes that Karim Mun is crying, and he’s suddenly so angry he can’t think; he can feel his hands shaking. “I don’t have to believe anything except that I found that kid with his arm pulled out of its socket and blood coming out of his ass, and all I want to know is if you put him there.”

Simon knows that it’s wrong the second he says it.

He’s never seen a look like that on someone’s face before. Karim stares at Simon like he’s put a fist through his ribcage, and then he hunches forward and throws up all over himself.

“Oh, fuck,” Simon says, catching Karim Mun’s shoulder to keep him from toppling right over out of the bed, and turns to call to the guard at the door that he needs a nurse, now. Karim’s heart is going faster than Simon’s ever heard one, and Simon can hear his breath tearing in and out of his lungs like the air is serrated. “Jesus Christ, kid, don’t, I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it; he’s actually maybe never been this sorry before in his life. Karim convulses again, bile pouring up out of his throat and onto his lap. “Karim, listen to me--he knew.”

Karim freezes, eyes wide but seeing nothing.

“He told me to tell you he was alive. He knew you didn’t know. He didn’t think you’d left him.”

Karim looks at Simon, still coughing up stomach acid, like he’s thrown him a lifeline--like he isn’t the one who shoved him in the water in the first place.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the nurse bawls at him when she bursts into the room, and it’s a very reasonable question.

“I fucked him up,” Simon says, scrambling out of her way. “I think he’s having a panic attack.”

The nurse pushes past him, supporting Karim’s back. “Put your head between your knees, hon,” she tells him, and as he’s doing so she shoots Simon the most disgusted look he’s ever received; it physically rocks him back onto his heels. “Get out,” she bites out, and Simon is more than happy to follow that order.

#fbi au #whump #original whump #panic attack #survivor's guilt #medical whump #aftermath of noncon #comatose #hospital whump

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scrambledthoughtz · 4 years

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i’m so frustrated with myself. i could be so much more productive if i just set my mind to it, but i’m so unfocused nowadays. i spend hours scrolling through instagram and facebook. i told myself that i would need to snap out of it once the school year starts, but i feel like i haven’t snapped out of it yet. everyone around me is so stressed about school and their schoolwork, and i feel like i should be more stressed too. i feel like i have no sense of urgency and i put everything off until the last minute. i submitted an assignment 36 minutes late earlier this week. i’ve been told by so many people that i would feel like i would be drowning in work with the quarter system and that it’s okay to be totally stressed my first quarter. to some extent i am and i definitely recognize that the quarter system is much much much faster than the semester system. i mean it’s only week 3 and i already have a paper due today, an exam next week and midterms the week after that. i still care about my grades and want to do well in my classes. at my very core, i recognize that even one assignment has the potential to destroy my grade if i do poorly just bc of how fast-paced everything is. but i’ve barely started my essay due today and i’m starting to think that i’ve developed a massive ego while i was at Ohlone. i know i’m good at writing, so i tend to put it off bc i expect a good grade even when i haven’t put 100% effort into my papers. it doesn’t help that i received high scores on my essays that i wrote during my summer classes that i didn’t exactly pour my blood, sweat and tears in to. i have to remind myself that i’m at a top ranked UC school now. i mean i think i do tell myself that on a daily basis, but it doesn’t mean that i’m better than everyone else. it actually means that i can’t slack off and still expect a good grade anymore. everyone talks about imposter syndrome, but i feel like i’ve spent so long working toward embracing my transfer identity and transfer journey that i don’t exactly feel like an imposter. does that make me dangerously overconfident or just confident (in a good way)? i think i’ve also spent quite a bit of time interacting with other transfer students so i know that i have a community here. everyone also talks about how college students are severely sleep deprived but i always go to sleep around 9-10 pm. seriously, i think i’m incapable of staying up any later than that. actually, once it hits 9 pm my brain just shuts off and i can’t be productive anymore and that’s when the instagram / facebook / youtube binges start. i need to find a way that extend my productivity in to the late hours. it’s either that or just accept the fact that i’m not going to be productive after a certain point at night and work harder to get my work done earlier in the day. weirdly enough, i oftentimes do the best work early in the morning right after i wake up, so maybe i should just work on grinding through my assignments then.

nevertheless, i need to take this weekend to reset myself and to refocus myself on my goals bc i’m in this for the long haul and i can’t risk my GPA bc of unproductivity and laziness. other people have it so much worse than me. my group project partner literally Zooms from work bc he has to support his family. my friend has a big family who she has to take care of. i’m one of the lucky ones in that i have a quiet space to myself that’s conducive to learning so i shouldn’t be complaining. i have absolutely nothing to complain about. i see all these posts that are like “it’s okay to feel unproductive during a pandemic” but the hard reality is that my GPA and my scores matter. grad schools aren’t going to care about my circumstances if i don’t do well in my classes bc i have no excuse. my circumstances are pretty much freaking ideal, so i’ll have no excuse to not have done well in my classes. the fact of the matter is, it’s just laziness and me being unfocused. this weekend, i need to reorient myself and catch up with my readings and assignments and the lecture that i missed bc of one stupid essay. i can’t be missing my lectures just bc i procrastinated and had to work on one freaking essay. that literally lands me back in to my high school days where i would miss my first and second periods to study for my chemistry exams. and that is so bad. i’m not in high school anymore. i should be more mature and responsible than this. it’s only going to get tougher from here on out. this weekend, i need to find effective study strategies so that i can study for AT LEAST an hour without getting distracted. i need to regain my sense of urgency. i can’t risk failing my assignments. i need to remind myself of my goals.

my goals are to get A’s in all of my classes this quarter, gain some valuable study skills that i can apply during the rest of my time here, learn how to work smarter not harder, learn how to effectively retain information from the (obscene) amt of readings that i need to do per week, not skip lectures bc i procrastinated. i need to gain a better sense of what my purpose is here. i’m here for a reason and i can’t waste this opportunity. i know the name of my school is big, but what’s bigger is what i did while i was here and what i’m going to do AFTER. it doesn’t matter that i went to a highly ranked school if i don’t make anything of it afterwards. ppl go to Harvard and end up unemployed and floating around afterwards. i fear uncertainty, but at the same time, i don’t know how to avoid it.

one step at a time. time to get this essay out of the way. signing off for now.

#personal

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sirbadgerduke · 6 years

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Detroit: Become Human: “Cage’s best game but ultimately almost a great game”

So I played through and completed the latest Quantic Dream Title and David Cage’s latest project known as Detroit: Become Human. A Sci-Fi romp across a futuristic Detroit that follows three Androids and their adventures in said city. Did I enjoy it? did I hate it? Well, for the most part, I actually enjoyed it, I’ll go into the details why I mostly liked it and why certain parts really didn’t connect with me. Here’s a review of Detroit that I’ve been waiting to do! So Detroit: Become Human is the latest game from the complete madman that is David Cage, a Sci-Fi tale of (totally not)Android Slavery that follows three character’s perspectives, all from different Androids. You have Connor(Which the game opens up with in a fantastic intro), a detective Android sent on a mission to investigate Deviants(Androids that don’t follow their original programming.), Kara who is a household android of an owner who’s not quite the nice father he may seem(Sarcasm!). And there’s Markus. a Servant Android to a famous painter who treats Markus more like a son than he does to his actual son(Even though his son is a junkie wasteman).Each character’s story slowly diverges into a singular path in each you will play as all three of them during one chapter, though this is nearing the climax of the game. Gameplay is typical QD fair; more of an interactive, cinematic experience than a traditional game. A lot of well implemented QTEs and some pretty neat dialogue choices that effect others around you.Ofcourse failure of a QTE doesn’t reset the game with a “Fail” screen, but rather continues, you can get characters killed, though in Connor’s case he comes back good as new.The one aspect added by QD, though they seemingly copied from Remember Me, is the Reconstruction/Preconstruction mechanic, used to either piece together clues and evidence for a case or to find something, or in Markus’ case find the most optimal path to take, it’s fun and a nice addition to the interactive experience.There’s not much you can really talk in this section about, but I will say that it’s QD’s most fluid and responsive title yet. Aesthetics are beautiful, you can definitely tell the art, graphics and general atmosphere was well crafted by people who care. To the glistening cleanliness of a futuristic Central Detroit to the rainy, murky and rundown look of both Zlatko’s home and the abandoned amusement park.That’s all I can say about it honestly, it’s really well designed and artistically well crafted, but there’s nothing really that stands out, it’s very generic in a creative sense, especially compared to the likes of God of War, Bloodborne and other titles too. So the final section; The Story. Okay, David Cage is NOT a consistent creator in quality, often than not his titles are a fucking mess(See Nomad Soul, Indigo Prophecy) or they have a really questionable moment or finale(See Heavy Rain for BOTH points) OR are just terrible all round and have no sense of consistency(Beyond Two Souls anyone?).Detroit: Become Human is genuinely Cage’s best written story, both in terms of Narration and plot(for half of it) and in terms of Dialogue(really, his let down in the others), Characters actually almost feel like people, their dialogue is not stunted and weirdly written for the most part, heck Connor and Hank both are the limelight here, their banter is damn stellar most of the time.Points in the story are at least not brain numbing and filled with plotholes, that is until the climax. Oooooh booooy, Climax is a huge mess, the ending is at least decent, but god damn those last moments are all kinds of whacky, insulting and downright laughable.Then there’s Markus, boy oh boy, mr “I AM JESUS I AM JESUS I AM JESUS” the Walking Allegory of Jesus Android is just, not good to say the least. He could’ve been cut from the game and it would’ve been better in my opinion. So my title of this review is pretty much accurate on my opinion; Cage’s best yet but almost a good game. It has it’s glaring issues, it’s plothole filled almost climax laughable story, but then it has Connor and Hank, most of kara’s story and some really neat ideas. The last question I can ask myself is; “is it better than Until Dawn?” and hell noooo, its definitely not better. Until Dawn is still one of the best Cinematic focused games around! Score: B- to a C+

#quantic dream #david cage #detroit become human #scifi #science fiction #cyberpunk #detroit #android #androids #robot #robots

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cordiformation · 7 years

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Mercy Main, btw

“No aim, no brain, Mercy main.”

“I wish Mercy would be deleted from the game.”

“What a stupid hero.”

“Low skill hero.”

“It’s unfair that one button can counter an extremely high skill play.”

“Boosted.”

“Carried.”

“They have a top 500 and we have two Mercy mains, we’re going to lose.”

“Can you play anything not Mercy?”

“I hate Mercy mains.”

Anyway, this is just off the top sampling of conversation that happens pretty constantly if you’ve ever watched an Overwatch streamer who isn’t a Mercy player. The memes (ha ha, jokes) are permanent fixtures on the Overwatch reddits, of course and even make it into the “pro Overwatch” scene commentary (”And then Sherlockey swoops in from hiding and presses Q” -- which is related to the idea that “all Mercy does is Hide and then Press Q” which is the default ultimate use button on the PC). It’s a huge constant in any conversation on Overwatch (also seen in many of the popular youtube commentaries as well) and on the ladder a little less so but still “Can you play someone not Mercy” is fairly. . . well, common up until the most recent patch.

And I’m constantly fucking pissed.

There’s an interesting article here on Mercy but I thought I’d expand on it. The recent Mercy changes have really added to the conversation and just as people who played Mercy knew before, it wouldn’t really change the conversation.

A Lot of Arguments Against Mercy are that: 1. she doesn’t require aim 2. she’s very easy to play/low skill 3. she is too powerful 4. but on the other hand she’s not useful enough because she hasn’t been in higher tier conversation meta since like season 2 where she had a brief rein because of Pharmercy 5. ew grill gamers lol mercy main lol 6. I A DPS Main Feel Cheated When She Resurrects The Team Because My 5K Was So Impressive OH My God

One of the things I have liked and enjoyed immensely about Overwatch is that it isn’t Call of Duty 2.0. It isn’t the FPS only FPS can you FPS and only FPS game. It’s a game that to excel at requires a huge amount of map sense / strategy / game sense / educated guesses about the enemy so forth and so on. Every game is different because of your team and the enemy team and the map. You have to be able to predict who has what ults and what is going to be combo’d and what routes do you want to take on maps. It’s easily accessible but has a continual learning curve in what you can do.

Many characters who have ‘easy’ kits also have extremely high levels (in my opinion) of strategy involved. Winston is another example, of whom for a while was considered “low skill” because you don’t have to aim with his weapon, it does AOE auto-cleave damage. However, that has faded after the double Winston meta from like... season 1? And also because in Korea he’s seen as being one of the most important characters in the game. And it’s true. Winston is immensely powerful when used correctly. Just because his kit is “I don’t have to aim my gun to be effective” doesn’t mean anything in what ‘effective’ means. A good Winston needs to know engages / disengages, his own hp limits, other heroes cooldowns and ults, the bubble placement and how to block damage and ALSO enemy healing or LoS, how to utilize the jump combos to kill people etc. Another hero that the American (and I believe EU) sides of Overwatch had devalued for 800 years was D.Va but she had her revival in triple tank but only because “her defense matrix is overpowered”. However, it should be noted that while Winston has shaken off the ‘low skill’ title, D.Va has continued to keep it. Low skill, just needs 1 click (her defense matrix) to nullify everything! Low Skill! Awful Hero!

Strange how both D.Va and Mercy are female heroes and continue to get these comments repeatedly where similar male counterparts have been able to have that removed. Strange, isn’t it. A lot of other people have sort of spoken on the sexism in video games and the article I linked above also talks about it, so I won’t focus too much on it. But a real ha ha isn’t it.

The Mercy situation, I feel, is Damned if You Do, Damned if You Don’t. The only other burst healer in the game is Ana -- and Ana does have an extremely high skill cap. She requires fairly good accuracy and is also the only healer who can’t heal herself and the only healer with an offensive support ult, rather than a defensive one. Ana was op for a season or two and despite being thought of as ‘a bad choice’ for the first few weeks she came out, she became a ‘must pick’ and also a highly skilled character that was cool to play. She shoots people. And her ult enables DPS to do cool things. But outside of Ana, there is no way to heal quickly and consistently -- Lucio and Zenyatta both have much lower amounts of healing outside of bursts with long cooldowns (amp it up / transcendence).

For the longest time meta was just Lucio/Zen, if you ran anything else you were stupid. And then Lucio/Ana or Ana/Zen. This is with the top say, 20% or something of players, but Mercy has remained an incredible consistently high picked hero. For some obvious reasons -- tanks and DPS need healers to live. Even though Mercy has a high pick rate and many people making commentary outside of the pro players/streamers play with Mercys who save their asses... well, she’s still A Bad Hero to them. Some of this has to do with the echo chamber of these communities and the begging up after some dude says something and everyone else wants to repeat it. And, the sort of healer position in all games, as many people know, no one thinks healers have value, but they always need healers to heal them.

Anyway, people hated the rez. It brings people back to life. It means if you killed 5 people at once with A Cool Ult then Mercy could run in and rez them all. The idea often was that ‘Mercy hides and then comes out and rezes’. Which is honestly kind of silly since a good Mercy has always used rez for tempo and been with her team, since her job is... healing. But somehow the idea that Mercy Mains Are Good at Hiding And Doing Nothing But Rezzing and also that Mercys could Climb the Ladder By Only Rezzing Five People At Once spread.

Believe me, if climbing the ladder by getting 5man rezzes was possible, there would be a lot more Mercy one tricks in top 500 for the past few seasons.

But it stuck in commentary. Mercy was easy. Every Mercy player in the higher levels of play was boosted. After all, Mercy takes no skill, she just hides and presses Q. It’s ridiculous commentary and some of it has to do with the way that DPS players feel that all you need to do is frag harder, who needs strategy and whenever they get a ‘kill stolen’ from them they’re mad and Feels Bad. (Related, though, is how Trans and Sound Barrier can both nullify cool DPS plays as well, but no one complains about that... weird, huh....). I weirdly was watching a tank player’s stream where the exact problem was that all the DPS just wanted to frag harder and not follow strategy and shockingly they lost. Wow. It’s like Overwatch is a game that has more than just shooting to it??? Go figure.

Now, hilariously. While Mercy was too easy and constantly boosted she was also out of the higher tier levels because... she wasn’t that good. Why have Mercy when you can have Ana. Why have Mercy when you can have Lucio? So forth and so on. The only time Mercy was pulled out in higher levels for a very long time was “to babysit pharah” and even then you’d see Pharahs without Mercy.

Fast forward to now where Mercy got a rework because people kept complaining about how 5 person Rezes were unfair. The dev update is on the OW yt here. It should be noted that part of the ‘hide’ conversation is also your team telling you to hide when you want to stay and heal them. “Mercy go hide” listen don’t tell me how to play my character -- but it was pretty common at the elos I played at (gold/plat) and also the higher elos I watch streams for (masters/gm/top 500). People wanted her to hide because she is very easy to kill. Her 2016 Halloween victory pose is a gravestone with a hand reaching out going in for the rez and I’m never changing it because it’s Too True to Reality. Rez & die is pretty common. (example of both).

Now Rez is an ability and her ult is Valkyrie. When the changes were announced people who didn’t play Mercy were like Looks Cool and a lot of other people were like This wilL Take More Skill. A lot of Mercy players I know were... disappointed. Because what this change does is make Rez a single person rez (every 30 seconds) and Valkyrie lets her fly + shoot faster and resets the rez cooldown + her healing/damage boost beams connect to teammates instead of just one person. But what this did was take away her ability to save her team. So there’s no “I can save my team from an ult” ability she has anymore. Rez was the defensive ult she had to ‘team save’ like Sound Barrier and Trascendence.

But she’s been live for a while now and the answer people have now is: she’s too easy and too op. Her rez nullifies picks and it’s Unfair that Mercy’s Rez is So Easy and nullifies a High Skill Play Like a Pick. Her Ult is Too Good. She Does Too Much. We Need a Mercy in Every Game or We’ll Lose.

With that last one, let me tell you, I have watched all these top 500 DPS and tank/off tank players playing Mercy and they are so bad. Or having other GM players play Mercy because “we can’t win without one” but then the Mercy is so bad they lose. I mean, but if she was so easy wouldn’t she be able to be picked up immediately? Easy victory right? All Mercys up in higher levels have no skill, huh?

I won’t disagree that her ult is possibly too long or a little overpowered. Resetting the rez I think is fine. The 10 second cooldown is good. After all, that’s what makes her ... well, her. The rez. But her ult lasts for 20 seconds. They could cut it to 12 seconds or 15 and it would be much more balanced. Even that much would be enough imo, but if they needed further nerfs, they could also nerf the connected beams to teammates and have them have a drop off or something. I.E., main person gets the full heal, the connected people get less of a heal. But while people complain deeply about new Mercy ult... no one works too hard to counter it. As much as people complain about Mercy, very few people have ever tried to counter it. In fact, popular streamers have said: My team doesn’t know to kill Mercy, so I hate her.

My DPS doesn’t know to kill the other teams support, so I hate the support. Thinking.

Mercy was given invul when she rezzed because it was too easy for her to die during rez. This has been removed for her current update and the rez distance is melee distance. So if you just killed someone and Mercy goes in for the rez... you should also be able to kill her. It’s extremely valuable then. Her ult is easily countered by tac visor or deadeye. She herself is countered by anyone who can aim and Sombra. If DPS is so skilled, doesn’t it seem like they should be able to deal with a 200hp hero? Hm. At my elo (Plat/Diamond rn) you can still hunt her down with Pharah and kill her.

Now, the skill part of Mercy. When Mercys changes came through, they were extremely easy for me to adjust to. My friends have had varying experiences -- many have said she’s much harder. I feel that she’s much easier because the hardest part of Mercy is strategy. Which of your teammates are the most valuable to rez right now, will rezzing them be productive, what ults do the enemy have which cooldowns do they have, where are we with progress, where are the rest of my teammates, what ults do we have, where are we on the map blah blah. Tempo rez has always been good but before you had to balance it with “will i need a team rez later”. 8/10 of my rezzes previous have been tempo rezzes because team rezzes often just set your team up to get wiped again.

But with her changes, that has been removed. You can only tempo rez. That decision has been removed. The weight is more on who and when and why -- but honestly, it’s also relieving because instead of “my DPS loves feeding jesus christ stop dying now we have to wait for you to respawn so we can push again” the fights are a lot quicker to engage. You can make up for your teammates bad decisions with rez. If you’re good with it.

Who do you rez? Well, it’s a pretty easy answer for me which is “depends”, lol. It’s a nice place to be as a solo healer if you have 2 tanks, you can let one of them die and heal the other. You can continue pushes when people make mistakes. You can rez your DPS carry or second support. There’s so many more options to enable your team to do well.

You have to know your distance and teammate positions intimately so you can escape and go in. Her new Guardian Angel lets you slingshot around and it’s nice but also tricky to use (?). The skill part of Mercy has always been strategy and positioning, and this change hasn’t change it at all.

I suppose, people who were mediocre or bad at Mercy continue to be bad at Mercy.

I guess... this is the parting word here. I’m not exactly sure where I meant to go with this except I’m tired. I’m tired of people bagging on Mercy. Of complaining but wanting to be healed and rezzed. I’m honestly tired of maining who seems to be the most hated character in Mercy. The more people complain about aspects of heroes in Overwatch who clearly have a place and are generally not OP people just haven’t at all considered actually countering them the more it feels like the community never wanted you. And honestly, maybe they never did. I jokingly bag on Mercy all the time in hopes that I will become immune to it. It doesn’t work. I play fill in most competitive matches and often it’s support that needs filled. Or, say, a tank but there’s no support so playing tank will be difficult and suck.

I think I had more to say. But I’m sure anyone reading this can guess what. I’ve always enjoyed that OW isn’t just about fps. I wish the rest of the community would catch up with that.

#overwatch #overwatch gameplay #salt with my pepper #*m

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depizan · 7 years

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First off, this is just my opinion and my feelings. No objective worth or lack of worth is being allotted here. Second, fanworks are a whole different ball of wax. Fanworks always have an element of reaction to them, so a fanwork being darker, grimmer, more realistic, or more “realistic” than canon does not have the same meaning that canon becoming any of those things has.

I am irritated with new canon. I am not pleased that the set up for The Force Awakens turns the success of Return of the Jedi into something very temporary and flawed. At first I thought that was a mistake - that the creators were too busy recreating A New Hope to realize what they’d done to the original trilogy’s hopeful ending. But new canon is just so thoroughly... darker... grittier... pessimistic... more “realistic”... *waves hands* ... worse than old canon and the old EU/Legends stuff (excepting perhaps the extra-galactic torture aliens I try not to think about) that I just don’t think it’s a mistake any more. What I’d taken for a bug is, in fact, a feature. A feature I do not want.

I know I’m kind of comparing actual canon to semi-canon, but Lucas/Lucasarts did sign off on the old EU/Legends stuff, so I don’t think it’s entirely unfair of me to do so. Besides, I think some of what irritates me actually predates the canon reset. (And I’m not talking about the extra-galactic torture aliens.)

Maybe I’m in a minority, but I feel like hope and optimism are a baked in part of what makes Star Wars, well, Star Wars. Take that out - take out the idea that love (familial love, at that) can save the galaxy; take out the idea that the heroes are good and heroic; take out the fantasy of it all - and what you have is no longer Star Wars.

Sure, in the old EU/Legends stuff, building the New Republic took work, and there were struggles (and an absolutely absurd amount of Imperial remnants and ridiculous super weapons involved), but for the most part I felt like the writers tried hard to keep the problems within certain bounds. That they tried to maintain a sense that the New Republic was definitely better than the Empire and that all our heroes had done mattered.

The new EU stuff - not to mention that the New Republic basically only exists in The Force Awakens to get nuked from half way across the galaxy by the Mega Death Planet (because a Death Star just wasn’t metal enough, or something) - focuses much more on the struggles. In a way that is, sure, probably more realistic, but way less optimistic and hopeful. (Not to mention that whole cross galactic nuking kinda makes it all seem pointless anyway. Or maybe that’s just me.)

And then there’s the interpersonal relationships. Luke is Sir Not Appearing in This Tie-In in all the tie ins after RotJ (so far as I know - I have not read them all), Lando barely makes an appearance, and even R2 and 3PO seem to have decide to take a multi-year vacation for unexplained reasons. (Which makes a plot point in the Aftermath trilogy really bizarre, not to mention more obvious than it should be.) Leia and Mon Mothma, who were good friends in the old EU have a seriously strained friendship in the new one. Just because. (I mean, yes there are in story reasons, but those didn’t just happen. The author/Disney/whatever decided to set things up that way.)

Weirdly, there’s also - and this could very much just be me - kind of a playing up of romance and a playing down of friendship. In the Aftermath trilogy, it takes until the third book for the characters to start doing things out of friendship. (Whereas the second book revolved around romances/sexual relationships - nearly all heterosexual ones, I might add - to the point that it irritated the heck out of me.) In the new Marvel comics, everyone seems really peeved at each other most of the time (and all of the new relationships in those stories start with people not liking each other or otherwise having conflict) and Han and Leia are portrayed as a couple before it makes sense for them to be a couple. (To the point that the writers could use ye old dead trope of “whoops your wife showed up.” Which, granted, worked out better than that trope usually does, but I am still deducting several hundred from Gryffindor for them having used it in the first place.) Even A New Dawn had to make romance...well... Kanan grossly wanting to get in Hera’s pants, but we’ll pretend it was romance... the motive for Kanan wanting to team up with Hera in the first place.*

Going along with that, you’ve also got Rebels which seems to think that abuse is friendship. But that’s it’s own can of worms.

And then, as a background to all of this, you have this overall darkening of tone and replacement of hope with pessimism. (Something that I feel started with the Clone Wars show, really.) It’s harder for me to pull out specific examples, because it’s not that scene there, or whatever, it’s a whole pile of things that mostly probably sound innocuous on their own.

It’s the Aftermath trilogy heroes repeatedly using threat of torture (successfully!) to get information out of people. (And, no, it doesn’t help that I really hate that trope. And boyhowdy do I hate that trope.) Also characters deciding to be bad in service of good instead of good in service of good because George RR Martin’s books sell really well because that’s more “realistic.”

It’s repeated instances of fake big picture thinking by heroes - and I say fake big picture thinking because they’re not sacrificing someone or ignoring a problem because they have clear bigger goals that doing something would jeopardize; they’re sacrificing people or ignoring problems because of vague amorphous goals.

It’s weird shit like the Marvel comics thing I just read where the Rebellion has a secret prison (why? how does this make any sense? someone? anyone?) so that a Rebel spy can attack it to kill the prisoners because the Rebellion can’t be soft. (Yes, you read that right. No, it didn’t make sense in context. It just made my brain hurt.) Oh, at the Rebel spy had some kind of weird disease he caught from being Force Lightninged by the Emperor. Or something. I don’t fucking know and I just read the damn thing. If it was supposed to be burn scars, it somehow didn’t show up right away and it didn’t look like burn scars, it looked like pustules.

It’s a general graying of the morality of the franchise, which, yes, okay, sure that’s more realistic... but... this was never a realistic franchise. This was a franchise where the galaxy was saved by the power of love. A franchise where people chose friendship and were right to do so. A franchise where the right thing to do - consistently - was to believe in the good in other people.

And, yes, as far as the new heroic trio from the new trilogy goes, it does look like it’s shaping up to carry that same heart. At least I hope so. But so much of the rest of the new stuff is missing that heart. (And, while believing in the good in other people unspokenly seems to work with Rey, Poe, and Finn, it very much didn’t work when it came to Kylo Ren. I really don’t know what that means for the overall theme of the new trilogy, either.)

In short: I want my optimistic heroic fantasy with spaceships and laser swords back please. The one in which believing in people was basically always right. I don’t care how simplistic and unrealistic that is, that has always seemed the heart of Star Wars to me.

*A New Dawn has to win some kind of award for tie-in book that took me from not liking a main character to pretty well despising a main character. I’m pretty sure tie-in books aren’t supposed to do that.

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