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dialovers-translations · 3 years

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Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Kou Route ー Chapter 2

ー The scene starts on the Carnival’s venue

Kou: Yui, can you walk?

Yui: Yeah, I’m fine.

Kou: I see. Shall we go to our next spot then?

This time I’m gonna tag along to whichever place you like. I’m the only one who had fun at the last shop after all.

The mood got a little dark for a second too, so how about we search for a place with a lively vibe?

Yui: A lively vibe...

( Speaking of which, I only caught a glimpse from afar, but I’m pretty sure I spotted an area which looked like an amusement park on the street we passed by earlier... )

( Guess I’ll suggest that to Kou-kun...! )

Say, Kou-kun? Don’t you think there might be a place which is similar to an amusement park in the human world?

If you’d like, why don’t we go there? I’m sure it’ll be exciting and fun!

Kou: Yeah, good thinking. Which meansー ...That way, I think?

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Saint Nore Park

Yui: Waah...!

( So this is what a Demon World’s version of an amusement park is like! )

( It doesn’t seem that much different from our version. I’m sure I’ll be able to enjoy myself here too. )

( Huh...? At second glance, there seem to be a few things which are foreign to me. )

( It might be a little scary after all... )

Kou: A little horror-esque? I have high hopes for a haunted house now!

Yui: Do you like amusement parks and such?

Kou: Guess I don’t dislike them? However, whenever I go, it’s usually work-related so I’ve never really gotten a chance to just enjoy it to my heart’s content.

Yui: You mean for your job as an idol?

Kou: Yeah. Like as the location for a shoot. It’s still fun and all but it still feels a little different from going in your private time.

Yui: You don’t go out with Ruki-kun and the others?

Kou: With the guys? Hmー...

...Uwah. I just tried imagining it but it turned even more surreal than I expected.

Yui: R-Really?

Kou: I mean, we’d be the group of four guys going to an amusement park together. It could be fun but isn’t it also kind of cringe? (1)

It’d be much better if you were also there with us though. Like an oasis in the desert? (2)

Of course, I wouldn’t mind if it’s just the two of us either! Don’t you think that sounds nice, like a normal date?

Yui: A normal date...

Kou: Yeah, let’s do that! Say, let’s go to one sometime! I’ll make up for what I did earlier too.

Selection

→ I’d rather go somewhere else

Yui: I’d love to go on a date but if possible, I’d prefer another location...

Kou: Eh? Do you not like amusement parks, perhaps?

Yui: No, that’s not it...But I figured things could get troublesome if you go someplace crowded...

Kou: Me? Not really. I surprisingly don’t get recognized that often as long as I just act casual.

If anything, I almost want people to recognize me? It’d be my opportunity to show you off!

Yui: ( Show me off...? Is it really okay to do that...? )

→ I’d rather go with everyone... (☾)

Yui: Hm...Don’t you think it’s better to go with everyone?

Kou: Eeh? Whyー?

Yui: I mean, if we go together and one of your fans spots us, it’d cause trouble for you, right?

Kou: Ahー That’s what you were thinking? So you’re trying to be considerate of my job as an idol.

Fufu, that’s no problem, really. Just let them make a fuss if that’s what they want.

Besides, don’t you think we’d stand out more if the other guys are there too? In more than one way.

Yui: ( He might have a point there... )

Kou: You don’t like the idea of us going to an amusement park together?

Yui: That’s not it. I want to go together too.

Kou: Let’s go then! Once the Carnival is over, just the two of us. Promise?

Yui: ...Yeah!

Kou: So, what will you do? Want to just have some fun here? Or should we try going to some other place?

Yui: No. Let’s go inside for now. It looks fun!

Kou: Okay! Let’s go then!

ー They enter the amusement park

Kou: Heeh. A haunted house and an arcade. Oh, over there’s a ferris wheel.

The atmosphere’s different but the assortment of rides isn’t all that different from a regular amusement park, huh?

Yui: Seems like it.

( The mood is somewhat scary though...However, I kind of got used to it as we walked around. )

Clown A: Hello there, miss~

Yui: Eh!?

Kou: Woah~! It’s a clown!

Yui: ( That scared me...That seems to be a reoccurring trend today. )

Clown A: Good evening! Is this your first time visiting Saint Nore?

Yui: Y-Yes. It is.

Clown A: Same goes for the gentleman over there?

Kou: Yeah, exactly.

Clown A: Two first timers!? In that case, you have to ride this one first!

A magic carpet ride through the sky! Even it’s name is...MAGICAL~~~!!

Yui: A magic carpet ride through the sky...!?

( I wonder if he’s referring to the magic carpets which often show up in fairytales...? )

Kou: It honestly isn’t that uncommon though. Us Vampires can just soar through the sky too. ...However.

Fufu, looks like you want to try it?

Yui: ( Hm...I am really curious... )

I-I can’t?

Kou: No, it’s fine. I will accompany the Princess~

Clown A: Okaay~! In that case, I’ll escort you both to the flying carpet ride~!

ー They enter the ride

Kou: Say, Mr. Clown? Since it’s an ‘attraction’, I assume we’re going to do more than just ride it?

Clown A: Exactly! You will sit on the carpet and collect stars!

Yui: Stars?

Clown A: Mmh! Joining forces, that is!

If the two of you have a strong bond, I’m sure you’ll be able to gather a bunch of stars!

Kou: Heeh. In that case, we definitely have to succeed!

The two of us are so very close after all!

Clown A: I see, I see! Let us take a look at your bond of love then.

Kou: Let’s try our best, M-neko-chan~!

Yui: ( I’m a little nervous...But Kou-kun’s here to help me out, so I’m sure it’ll be fine...! )

Explanation: The player moves from left to right on their magic carpet to try and collect the stars falling down from above, while avoiding obstacles such as bombs. The goal is to collect as many stars as possible within the time limit.

You can play this game in EASY, NORMAL or HARD mode.

Kou: We did it, M-neko-chan! It says we cleared the game. Also, I’m pretty sure we might have absolutely killed it?

Clown A: Exactly! A magnificent showing! Congratulations!!

Kou: Say, Mr. Clown. Don’t we get a reward now? We did well so shouldn’t we get a prize of some sorts?

Clown A: A reward?

Yui: Kou-kun, they don’t really do that at amusement parks...

Kou: Eeh~? Even though we tried that hard? Isn’t it normal to get rewarded for your efforts?

Clown A: Nn~ You’re not wrong! In that case, guess I’ll give a special reward to you two lovebirds~

Yui: Eh?

Kou: Hooray! Thank you, Mr. Clown~!

...See? You just gotta ask.

Yui: ( Could this have been Kou-kun’s goal all along...? Guess I should have expected it... )

Kou: So, what exactly is this reward?

Clown A: The right to ride on this magic carpet and enjoy the Carnival from up in the sky!

Kou: ...That’s it? Kind of lackluster, don’t you think?

Yui: K-Kou-kun!

Clown A: It’s your own VIP seat where nobody can disrupt you, you know? ...What do you say?

Kou: ...I see. Hehe~ You’re rather considerate, aren’t you?

Clown A: Right? Enjoy a nice ride together.

Kou: Let’s go, Yui. Come on, give me your hand.

*Rustle*

ー The carpet flies up in the air

Yui: Wah...!

Kou: Yui, hold onto me! It’d be bad if you were to fall down after all.

Yui: Y-Yeah...I suppose it is a little scary now that we’re actually outside.

Kou: Are you scared?

Yui: Yeah, just a little...

Kou: It’s because you keep looking down. It won’t be scary if you look up at the sky.

Or actually, why not look at my face? Right in the eyes. Don’t you think it’ll help you relax a little?

Yui: ( A-Actually...That might only make me even more nervous...! )

Kou: Ah! Yui, look! Ruki-kun and the others are walking over there!

Oooi~ Ruki-kuuuun! Yuma-kuuuun! Azusa-kuuuun!

Yui: Ahaha! They all look surprised!

Kou: Ah-aah...Yuma-kun dropped the food in his hand.

Yui: Fufu, you’re right. Pretty sure Ruki-kun will scold him now.

Kou: ...Say, Yui. Are you having fun?

Yui: Yeah! I am!!

Kou: I see...I’m glad.

Yui: ( ...I wonder if Kou-kun is still worried about what happened earlier...? )

...I’m having a blast, Kou-kun.

Kou: Haha. Weirdo. Why did you say it twice?

Yui: Because I really am having fun...!

*TIMESKIP*

Clown A: Thank you for your visit~ Come back any time!

Kou: I was honestly a little skeptical at first, but that was pretty fun.

Yui: Yeah. You don’t get to fly through the sky every day, so it was a rare experience.

Kou: You want to fly through the air?

Yui: Not really but I guess it’s just something you look up to?

Because it’s not something you can do at any time.

Kou: Oh come on. I can grant that wish any time as long as you ask me.

While carrying you in my arms like a princess~ I guess making a journey through the sky like we did earlier doesn’t sound too bad.

Whether it’s the ocean or the sky, when you’re with me, I’d go anywhere.

Yui: Yeah. I can have fun anywhere as long as we’re together too.

Kou: Let’s go to both places then! The sea and the sky! Ah, maybe the mountains as well?

Fufu, we made more date plans. I’m looking forward to when we’re back home.

Yui: ( A date, huh? Speaking of which, we haven’t really gone on a lot of normal dates. )

( I’m kind of looking forward to it now as well. )

Kou: Ahー I guess it’s because we went all out earlier but I’m kind of thirsty now. Say, why don’t we take a little break?

Yui: Good idea. I wonder if there’s a resting area somewhere?

Kou: There’s a cafe over there. Want to go take a look?

ー They walk away.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The term むさ苦しい literally means ‘filthy’ or ‘dirty’.

(2) 紅一点 or ‘kou itten’ is an expression used to refer to a single woman amongst a group of men.

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 1

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 3]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ SHUU]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ SUBARU]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ AZUSA]

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #vckouchapter2

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mst3kproject · 3 years

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Magic Christmas Tree

I thought I’d try something different this year and find a bad Hannukah movie, but everybody I asked had the same recommendation: Adam Sandler’s Eight Crazy Nights. I know for a fact that is a prohibitively awful film, because I know people who’ve watched parts of it (I have not to date met anyone who could sit through the whole thing), but it just doesn’t feel like an MST3K feature to me. Anyway, I have standards. My conclusion is that people need to make more Hannukah movies… and until that happens, I’m watching Magic Christmas Tree, which comes specially recommended by RiffTrax.

This is the only Christmas movie I’ve ever seen which starts with cheerful holiday music over footage of… Hallowe’en decorations. Obnoxious bully Mark and his two pushover friends decide to go investigate a supposedly-haunted house. Naturally the old lady who lives there is a witch, and in exchange for Mark rescuing her cat, she gives him a seed for a magical tree that will grant him three wishes. Two months later, with the tree fully grown, his first wish is to have magical powers for one hour – he uses them to torment unfortunate people who were already having to work on Christmas Eve. His second wish is to kidnap Santa Claus and extort unlimited presents from him, but that attracts the attention of the spirit of Greed, who intends to keep Mark as a slave forever! Good thing he’s still got that third wish.

God, I hate this movie. I’d say it’s the worst Christmas movie I’ve ever seen, but Elves exists, so instead I have to say it’s the worst Christmas movie that didn’t have any Nazis in it. It reminds me more than anything else of Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow, in that it’s an absolute mess that seems to have been put together by people who have no idea what they’re doing. It spends most of its time on boring, annoying irrelevant bullshit, and then when it gets to the plot, that’s boring and annoying, too!

Magic Christmas Tree is only an hour long, but that’s twice as long as it needed to be. A plot summary makes it sound like most of the film will be dealing with Mark’s three wishes and how he uses them, but it’s half-over before we even get to that point. The time leading up to it is spent watching Mark follow the witch’s complicated instructions on how to grow and activate the tree, and his parents dealing with this unwanted thing appearing in the middle of their back yard. All of this is presented in excruciating detail. We watch Mark dig the entire hole to plant the seed in. We see his Dad struggle with the lawnmower at unbelievable length, while the Mom yacks about nothing on the phone with her friend Betty. The Dad tries to cut the tree down with no success. Mark has to say a set of magic words over and over and over.

It goes on so long, it passes the are you fucking kidding me? point and wanders into territory where you wonder if there’s something wrong with the disk and you’re playing the scene over and over. It actually starts to feel like it’s on purpose – especially when the slowness is repeatedly emphasized by shots of Mark’s pet tortoise, Ichabod, who seems to be eating his patch of clover far faster than anybody else is accomplishing anything. You’ll swear the movie is making fun of you.

The sound that accompanies all this is sometimes very peculiar. The old lady has exactly the voice you’d expect from a witch in a cheap kid’s movie, but Mark’s Mom sounds like she’s being dubbed by a twelve-year-old boy, possibly the same one who provided the voice for Mark himself. The tree speaks (oh, yes, it does) in the voice of a smarmy stereotypical gay man. Santa Claus sounds like he’s half-senile and wondering what’s for lunch.

The lawnmower makes some very strange noises indeed. I guess they’re meant to be cartoonish and funny. They’re definitely the former but they’re never the latter, possibly because they never sound remotely like a lawnmower. When Mark’s Dad is trying to get it started it sounds like the ghost of a consumptive horse, and three hours later when it actually gets going, it makes noises like a traffic jam in Whoville.

Besides sounding weird, the actors are just plain bad. The guy playing Santa Claus is half-asleep. We’re told that the tree’s magic means he’s trapped in the chair he’s sitting in, and I honestly do believe that actor could not have gotten up if he tried, no wishes necessary. The woman playing Mark’s Mom looks like she’s high as a kite and only barely keeping her grip on reality. Maybe that’s why they had to dub her. Mark’s Dad recites his lines like a guy on a game show reading his own life story off a teleprompter, and does his yard chores in a way that’s probably supposed to be pantomimey but is the opposite of entertaining. The Dad gets an inordinate amount of screen time, which I can only chalk up to the fact that he’s played by director Dick Parish.

The worst of the lot are, of course, the kids, who are predictably terrible 60’s child actors. They yell all their lines, with the volume and exaggerated emphasis you expect from a school play. It wears thin very, very quickly. The kid playing Mark is the worst of the lot, although I might just think that because he’s the one we spend the most time with. He’s a huge part of why this movie makes me so mad.

I think the best way to describe Mark as a character is to say that the first time I watched this movie I assumed his name was ‘Billy’, despite the fact that everybody kept calling him ‘Mark’. He just seems like the type of nasty little brat who’d be named ‘Billy’ in a bad 60’s Christmas movie. We meet him having lunch with his two friends by the playground, and learn that he’s a greedy little shit when he drives a hard bargain in a sandwich trade. Greedy-little-shit-itude continues to be his primary character trait and is, of course, the core of the movie’s lesson. His attempt to monopolize Santa Claus makes him such a greedy little shit that Greed himself takes an interest in him.

Greed is a huge hairy man who takes delight in kidnapping little boys. I think he’s supposed to look like a fairy tale giant. Watching him manhandle a child is an intensely uncomfortable experience.

I guess ‘don’t be greedy’ is a standard message for a children’s movie, and it seems like a particularly appropriate one for Christmas, which presents children with a great opportunity for avarice. What seems a little odd is that Mark never actually suffers any consequences for his selfishness, only the vague threat of them. There was a perfect opportunity for some of this when Mark kidnaps Santa Claus. Santa, after all, brings toys to good girls and boys… surely by this point, after his brief reign of terror with his magical powers, Mark has been naughty enough to deserve only coal. Apparently that’s not how it works, though. Mark just wanders off into the woods in search of small animals to shoot with his new rifle, runs into the giant, and immediately repents even though Greed is offering him all the toys and candy he wants.

What supposedly prompts Mark to become a better person is seeing how the world has responded to Santa Claus going missing. Curiously, there is very little emphasis on the children who are sad because they didn’t get any presents. Maybe somebody thought that would have made them seem greedy? Instead, the vision Greed presents to Mark is of the United States military mobilizing to locate Santa and bring him home, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians-style! So… I guess Mark becomes a better person because he’s afraid of what’s going to happen if the army finds Santa trapped in a chair in his house? I guess that is pretty terrifying.

Another thing that blunts the lesson is the fact that Mark is given his three wishes as a reward for a good deed. He got the witch’s cat down from the tree, so she offers him the magical seed and doesn’t let him refuse. What then was he supposed to use his three wishes for, if not to get stuff for himself? Was this intentionally a poisoned gift, because you shouldn’t accept things from witches? The witch insists that there are good witches as well as wicked ones, but she’s not exactly an unbiased source. The movie never tries to blame her, though. The situation is presented as Mark’s fault, and Mark’s alone.

Finally, at the end Mark wakes up and finds that of course the whole thing was a dream – there was no witch, no magic tree, and no Santa Claus. This is less annoying than it could have been because at least it’s not a surprise. Mark did hit his head when he fell out of the tree the cat was in, and the movie changed from black and white to colour. We’ve seen this before in The Wizard of Oz and we can guess where it’s going. The audience might assume that Mark will wake up and immediately take the opportunity to be generous instead of greedy, perhaps by giving his friend something to make up for the lunch trade. Instead, the woman who owns the cat (who is not actually a witch, but looks even more like one in this part of the film than she does wearing the Hallowe’en witch costume in Mark’s dream) offers him milk and cookies, and he delightedly accepts. This just gives the impression that he’s learned nothing.

Is there anything in this movie I didn’t hate? Well… among Mark’s school friends is a token black kid, who is not differentiated in any way from his peers. He talks like them, he dresses like them, and the writers did not use either his lunch or his Hallowe’en plans as a way to demarcate a class difference between him and the others. So yeah, the movie sucks, but the writers tried really hard not to be racist.

Happy fucking holidays. I want to say hooray for surviving 2020, but we’ve still got a week to go. That’s plenty of time for oh, I don’t know, an alien invasion, or a giant meteor, or the Yellowstone supervolcano, or zombies, or whatever. At this point, if most of us aren’t dead by this time next year, I’ll count that as a win.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #magic christmas tree #fuck this movie #holiday reviews #60s

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real-jaune-isms · 3 years

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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 6 Review/Remix

The day finally came, and for some it was far far too late coming. Personally, I think this was a damn good time to get the story we got, but to each their own. It’s time to weave a wicked fairy tale, a twisted Cinderella Story without a happily ever after. Join me, won’t you?~

We open on a sight not terribly unfamiliar this Volume, young Cinder washing and scrubbing a wooden floor in raggedy clothing. A single tear seems to fall among the water, but she continues on. For a split second, we see a woman’s lower half as she walks through this barn setting before getting an exterior shot that yes this is a barn on what looks to be a very sparse farm. We get several quick cuts like this, and from what we see in them it becomes quite clear what sort of life Cinder is living. An orphan ostracized and bullied by other kids, already with a violent streak as she’s shown tackling one of her aggressors rather than passively taking the pain. She’s still fairly weak and starved compared to the others, since she gets pulled off her victim and tossed aside easily, and a closeup of her face shows some gaunt features. All that misery seems like it might turn around when the mystery woman we saw briefly decides she’ll take Cinder. Next thing she or the audience know, Cinder is in Atlas, standing outside a big fancy hotel and staring at the opulence with no small amount of wonder. Immediately, my thoughts shift from Cinderella to little orphan Annie and I gain some small measure of hope. But it cannot last, and the Madame (as she is solely credited despite clearly being our Lady Tremaine in this story) sternly ushers her inside the Glass Unicorn (I’d like to thank the person who helped me read that cursive golden light lettering). Once inside, Cinder is rather awestruck at the lavish lobby and all the happy people she sees within. (Meanwhile I took notice of the sign on the front desk openly declaring that they do not serve Faunus. Hooray for blatant systemic racism...) But she doesn’t have much time to look around, because she’s again brought deeper inside to the kitchen where we meet her new stepsisters. And what a pair, green eyes and light brown hair just like their mother, with devilish smirks of condescension. All Cinder can think about as she’s given her list of grueling chores is the platter of bread and cheese behind the twin devils. Priorities in a palace of plenty like this. You might think to yourself, well now that’s a little harsh for a couple of girls we’re literally just meeting. But don’t worry, they immediately prove how spiteful and cruel they are by laughing at Cinder for asking for food, and laughing even harder when the Madame throws a bread roll for her on the floor she just said was filthy. Great first impressions indeed, and I don’t think there’ll be a direct to DVD sequel to redeem either of them through time travel shenanigans... god I’m old.

We get a montage of Cinder in her new working uniform doing various jobs around the hotel for very little reward or praise. The guests don’t care, her stepsibs give her a slap on the wrist for trying to snack on one of the strawberries she was decorating a cake with... only to turn around and have one of them eat that same strawberry herself right in front of her, and any painful accidents she suffers in the line of duty are met with only disapproval and mocking laughter. She eats guests leftovers, and it seems like she’s the only employee here besides her new family, not that they’re doing much of the work. What really ties this sad montage together is an as of yet unnamed song to that has been serving as Cinder’s leitmotif for years but now has lyrics. Those lyrics, as poor luck would have it, are insults and orders that Cinder must have heard everyday in this life of slavery and misery. “Do your chores, rub my feet, no one said that you could think, no one’s ever loved you, etc.” There’s obviously more of an order and rhyme to them, but I wanted to lay out some of the harshest kickers. We see a particular instance of suffering where she’s cleaning the carpets on the second floor and her sisters start stomping mud right in front of her just to mock her with “You missed a spot~” and give her more work to do. Cinder has taken just about enough now, and her Semblance kicks in for what might be the first time as she starts heating up the wet brush in her hand. She throws it at them in anger and it creates a cloud of steam and possibly smoke depending on how much of that wooden brush she burned. This gets the attention of her stepmother of course, but also that of a mysterious huntsman who had been showing off a new sword in the lobby much to Cinder’s earlier distant amazement. The Madame is none too happy with the scene Cinder has just caused or the fact that she lashed out against her actual daughters. So she gives the poor girl a necklace... with a stone of electric Dust in it. It’s a shock collar, and every time Cinder acts out from this point on, or just doesn’t do well enough for her stepmother’s standards, she will be painfully shocked and forced to apologize with a mantra we’re now all too familiar with. “Without you, I am nothing...”

Next thing we see, Cinder is crawling through a vent into a secret room in the back of the hotel. Based on the tons of furniture covered in sheets back here and the mattress with a couple pillows, I’d say this is what passes as her bedroom with how little fucks her adopted family gives. The Huntsman from earlier is heard being rather pissed that one of his swords is missing, and I get a small amount of sick satisfaction hearing one of the stepsisters panic in the face of his complaints and deliver a trademarked customer service line, “I apologize for the inconvenience”. I hear that every damn day in my day job, and I know how it feels to be where she is. After tormenting Cinder, they deserve to squirm. Naturally, Cinder was the one who took it, but is caught admiring it in her little hideaway by the Huntsman it belongs to himself. In the credits and subtitles his name is revealed to be Rhodes, and the public opinion on him becomes... mixed at best as time goes by. At the very least, here he confronts her without fighting her and disarms her with reassuring words. He knows she’s getting an awful deal here, but hurting these people and running away will solve nothing. She’ll be running for the rest of her life if she did that, never having a place to safely call home. He offers her an alternative, one she seems to pick up on quickly. Becoming a Huntress and gaining her freedom through that official title. But here we get a real sudden kick in the teeth. At this point, Cinder is only 10 years old. No 10 year old should be suffering the way she is, and if I were Rhodes I would try and have the Madame exposed and arrested for her abusive crimes. But we unfortunately don’t know if any child protective services exist that he could go to about this problem, and instead he tries a different approach. He’s not going to be staying here forever, but he’ll be back and forth over the next 7 years, and during that time he’ll train her to be ready for the Huntsman exams. This sounds like a good plan on paper, but then you realize what it means for her. Enduring 7 years of this abuse and pain, on the dangling carrot promise that she can leave one day and finally have some chance at decency. It’s the bare minimum effort on his part, and it makes him feel like a hero without having to actually inconvenience himself and fight for her freedom. She deserves better, but she’s sadly not getting it. Still, she does get training.

We see time pass, he comes and goes, she keeps getting shocked and her resentment keeps growing. She gets older, her uneven pigtails become a short ponytail, and one day he gifts her the sword she had once stolen. She’s earned it, and in a couple more years she’ll be free to use it for her dream job. Too bad this was entirely the wrong move on his part. Cinder has something nice, and the stepsisters won’t stand for that, especially since it’s a dangerous weapon. They tattle to the Madame, and Cinder’s punishment is soon to come worse than ever before. Or so they would like to think. They go into the back to confront her at 11:40, and Rhodes walks in the front door at 11:56. There’s no one to greet him, not a sound to be heard until he gets to the front desk and picks up a distant crash. He gets to Cinder’s room, all too late. The stepsisters lie dead on the floor while Cinder is choking her stepmother to death with her bare hand. She tries in vain to subdue her with the remote for her shock collar, but the pain is just a stinging motivator she’s grown to tolerate. She may have been made to feel like she is nothing without the opportunities given to her by this woman, but now she is EVERYTHING because of what hell she has been through. Cinder snaps her neck and tosses her aside to be faced with her mortified mentor. The clock is striking midnight, and Cinderella did not use her gifts wisely at the ball. But it’s okay, right? Now her tormentors are gone and she won’t have to run anymore, right? Right, Rhodes??? No. Now he’s decided she’s too far gone and he has to fight her, to arrest her for the triple homicide that was most assuredly a mixture of self defense and cathartic revenge. Cinder realizes that even this man she trusted is her enemy, and with the last chime of the clock the spell of her temporary happiness is broken. The two fight, and seem evenly matched for a time, Cinder countering his Semblance of turning his skin to metal by using her own to heat the metal and still hurt him. I should like to point out that this power of his makes for a great layered pun, as it is similar to the mutant power of the X-Men character Colossus, and there is a famous Greek statue of the sun god Helios known as the Colossus of Rhodes. Back to the fight, Cinder temporarily blinds him by throwing a sandbag that he slices into, and in that confusion swipes his second sword so they can both dual wield since he primarily uses a set of maces. She gets a few clean slices in and takes out his Aura, but he bashes her away to hit a chest and there goes her Aura in return. He assumes the fight is over and goes to collect her unconscious body, but she was playing possum and stabs him in the gut with both swords. In his final moments, he lays a hand on her head as if saying he’s proud of her for growing so much. You may have had good intentions, Rhodes, but you were not a very good person and didn’t do enough to call yourself a Huntsman. I can’t imagine what kind of hell a Chaotic Good huntsman like Qrow would have done if he had been the one to find Cinder, but it probably would have been better than the surface level hero work this guy did. As things stand, we know Cinder is heading down the bad path and takes one last sad moment to finally tear her necklace off and cry a single tear up at the moon.

We cut back to present as she wakes up in what I assume is her room aboard Monstra. Emerald is happy to see her awake, but Cinder chastises her for bringing them back to Salem emptyhanded. Em tries to assert that she put her concern for her mentor above the mission and its the sole reason they’re free and alive at all, but Mercury comes in to remind her that a repeat failure like Cinder doesn’t deserve that help. Em tries to stand up for her boss, to say that she was right to go attack Amity because the goodie goodies were up to something and they did a lot to stop it, but Mercury lays the heavy truth bomb on her again. Don’t defend Cinder, you’re not gonna win her love and support because she doesn’t give a shit about you. Cinder shuts them both up and dismisses them until she has need of them, much like the dismissive way Salem treated her a few episodes back. But Mercury got promoted, Cinder’s not his supervisor anymore and he doesn’t have to listen to her. Hearing that takes some wind out of Cinder’s sails, and she’s left alone to stew about this turn of events as Merc tells her everyone is needed on the bridge cuz something big is gonna happen.

Shifting to another room, Oscar is lying on the floor with a black eye and some blood on his lip, and probably a bunch of broken bones and internal bleeding. This poor poor kid... He and Oz are having a discussion about who should be the one in the driver’s seat for these beatings. Oscar sure as hell doesn’t deserve it, but since he’s not the one Hazel is mad at he’s not getting roughed up quite as much as if Oz was present. Oz wants to take over, to try and get them a way out of here, but Oscar thinks they have a golden opportunity if they stay. Oz is initially unsure what that means, but Oscar has some solid reasoning. Salem doesn’t do the fighting herself, she turns people to her side and has them fight her battles. Her spies sow seeds of chaos and discourse among her enemies, and now Oscar can do the same. They can try and talk some sense into Hazel or the kids and turn them against Salem. She won’t be beaten, surely, but she’ll be crippled without her eyes ears and devious hands. No time like the present, as Hazel comes back in for round... idk, maybe 10? Oscar gives Oz control again and Hazel is immediately pissed to recognize that tone of voice again. He assumes Oz had been hiding inside Oscar and forcing the kid to endure the pain instead of him, not realizing it was the reverse and Oscar was being selfless. But rather than argue that, Ozcar tries to get Hazel to see the cruel reality of it all. He won’t deny he has done wrong by this man, but how is Salem somehow the better choice? He should be fighting to stop her and her evils. Hazel stops for a moment, reveals his feelings on the matter. She can’t be stopped, he’s seen that himself. She’s an unstoppable force, and Oz is the worse of the two for knowing this and still sending people to try and stop her. Oz argues that someone has to at least try, that yes she actually can be fought and slowed and steered astray. But if she gets what she wants and gathers the relics... well, he doesn’t get a chance to reveal that much because Salem herself enters the room and welcomes her old love back to the grace of her company. It’s time to bring him to his front row seat for the impending show.

It begins with a show of force and loyalty, all her underlings bowing before her on her throne. Em and Neo are off to the side and Hazel is forcing Oscar to bow too, but Mercury Cinder and Tyrian have all taken a knee right in front of their queen. Good news everyone, Watts presumably got Ironwood’s Scroll working and reported his successful takeover of Penny back to Tyrian and thus to Salem. Both men have proven their value, while Cinder’s rogue stunt has put her worth to the cause in serious question. Just like so many years ago, Cinder starts writhing in agonizing pain, this time inflicted by her own Grimm arm. Good to know Salem’s gift of a new limb was also a way to enforce punishment... But unlike the Madame, Salem claims to blame herself for Cinder’s disobedience. She’s been stifling Cinder’s drive for power and freedom, it’s no wonder she did what she did. She should be giving her chances to grow and rise, and so now she is. Cinder’s new mission is to go free Watts from jail and with his help murder Penny for the Winter Maiden powers. But it will be a challenge to prove herself, because Salem is also sending the Hound for the very same job. Both outcomes will result in Cinder getting the powers and Salem getting the Staff from the Vault, but only one will truly be an earned victory for Cinder and she damn well knows it. Ozcar tries to object, to say getting the Relics will doom them all, but hush now little fool~ You’re too late.

Cutting immediately away from that frightening situation, we get Winter and the Ace Ops flying out over the tundra in search of Penny. Elm is complaining about having to retrieve “broken junk” and how they shouldn’t trust Watts or his technology. Good point about trusting Watts, but we’re well past that problem now. Winter barks at Elm to stop whining and act professional. They pick up a comm signal, and it turns out to be from Jaune warning anyone who can hear it about the Grimm river. They head for the source of the signal, and the two groups cross paths under the most tense of tenses. Jaune gets to business and tries to get these professional huntsmen, public servants of their kingdom, to come deal with this unprecedented threat. But Harriet just wants to know where Penny is and refuses to acknowledge any problem except the one she was sent to deal with, so she blames these three kids who haven’t seen Penny in like 12 hours for whatever danger there is. Thankfully, she shuts up when a tremor rocks all of Mantle. The tremors keep building, even the Grimm take some amount of notice. Then it stops again. Then the biggest one yet hits, and suddenly the riverbed is empty. A geyser of primal Grimm goo blasts up into the side of Atlas, and it’s persistent enough that a big splash of it gets through the Hard Light shields. Out of the goo comes a swarm of centinels, who crawl up to the towers projecting the shield over the Kingdom itself and burrow into the ground around one of these towers. An airship blasts a laser down, but it can only get one target at a time and the rest burrow in. Down plummets one tower, and with it goes the entire shield. It’s like a string of Christmas lights with a single bad bulb, and that’s not a design flaw you want in the first line of defense around a major metropolitan area. As people across the Kingdom, including the team hiding out in Schnee Manor and a for once knocked off kilter General Ironwood, watch on in horror, Salem makes her move. Monstra swoops in and crests beautifully over the edge of Atlas, and then comes crashing down in the midst of the farmlands on the edge of the city with a bellyflop. The colossal aquatic mammal of the air opens its dark maw, and out floods a wave of more grimm sludge. From that primordial ooze arises just about every variety of Grimm we have ever seen with the exception of Kevin, Jim&Randall, Levi, and the Hound. The battle for Atlas has begun, and there are a wardrobe’s worth of white Atlesian military pants to be darkened. And this isn’t even the mid-season finale! So there’s even worse things sure to come! Can’t wait~

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good-so · 4 years

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Freedom (1/?)

Nakajima Atsushi x Fem!Reader

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Atsushi admired you from afar for being a soft and happy person, with a passion for art. But he gets confronted with a much louder image of you than he had maybe hoped.

First part is from Atsushi’s perspective, but following chapters will be from the readers

-Part 1- - part 2 -

Word count: 1,402

A/N: Oh wow, first time posting a fic to tumblr! I am really curious if people will read this lol Let me know if you do! I am planning on making this a two parter, but the fics i write tend to spiral out of control so who knows lol.

-MESSAGE OR REPLY TO BE ADDED FOR THE TAG LIST-

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Atsushi had made a habit out of eating lunch in a park not too far from the ADA. The first time he had done so to escape a longer than usual quarrel between Kunikida-san and Dazai-san. The second time he had been there by coincidence; he had passed through the park after solving a case with Ranpo-san (or rather, Ranpo-san had solved the case right after arriving to the scene and Atsushi had felt rather useless).

Both times you had been there; you had caught his eye, out and about with your sketchbook. The third time he had gone, partly for the peaceful atmosphere and partly because he had wondered if maybe going to the park at lunch time was part of your schedule.

And so it was, and so it became part of his.

He told himself that going to the park had many other benefits, such as fresh air and that the walk was good for exercise, but he knew that you were the reason why he decided on making it an everyday activity in the first place.

He didn’t necessarily meant anything with it, he was just drawn to your soothing presence as you worked on your drawings. It wasn’t as if he had never seen any artists around in Yokohama, what intrigued him was the clear delight and fervency with which you worked.

He envied such passion; that could never be him. Atsushi found himself slowly becoming more of use to the people around him, but he still found it hard to say that he had purpose.

He wanted nothing of you, he much preferred just to watch you. In fact, the one time you had noticed him, he had been so surprised he had barely gotten any words out. He had given you his name, and when you had smiled brightly after he had complimented your work he had felt his face flare up.

Other than that you didn’t really interact.

Even so, he still looked forward to lunch. The general atmosphere had given him much opportunity to destress.

Not that he was necessarily stressed, but the ADA wasn’t really a place to relax. Eating at the cafe downstairs was somewhat of an escape, but Atsushi needed a place to go to by himself.

Today, you weren’t at the park. Even so, he had enjoyed his lunch. He couldn’t expect a person to have a perfect schedule after all, even if Kunikida-san might disagree with that.

Coming back to ADA he was immediately met with such disagreement.

Kunikida-san looked at him with a disapproving look from behind his desk

“Hey brat, if you are going to eat outside of the office, at least make sure you go back in time!”

“I’m sorry…,” Atsushi replied in a downtrodden voice. He genuinely tried to go back in time, but he never seemed to succeed in that. Maybe next time he ought to shoot for arriving 5 minutes too early.

“Ah, Atsushi-kun, perfect timing!” Dazai-san leaned far over his desk to see him. Kunikida let out a sharp ‘Tch,’, but seemingly returned to his work. “Rampo-san is having a meeting with a client, why don’t you accompany him for this job?”

‘Again?’ He thought, but when he turned his head towards the sitting area they used to meet with clients, he saw a familiar face.

“So, you want us to find who stole this book? Is that it?” Rampo-san say. “That doesn’t sound very exciting, why don’t you just go to the police?”

“We would prefer this matter was handled rather quickly,” It was the man that always accompanied you to the park. “We have reported the matter to the police, but I have heard your deductive ability to be far more efficient.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Rampo-san still didn’t sound convinced. “But it sounds rather boring,”

It was at that moment Atsushi showed himself from behind the divider and made contact with your eyes. His heart skipped a beat as your expression visibly lit up.

“Nakajima Atsushi.” You said.

“Oya, oya?” Rampo-san said rather loudly, causing most of the people present in the agency to look his way. Atsushi felt very self conscious all of a sudden.

“That is your name, is it not?” You asked politely, slightly confused. You grabbed your bag and rummaged around in it. “I drew your portrait in the park,”

Atsushi knew he had turned bright red when she pulled out her sketchbook. “M-me? Oh, gosh, I um-”

“We are veering off topic!” The man had gotten quite agitated as he felt the situation wasn’t going his way. “I would prefer not to waste this time to-”

“If that’s the case, then I really don’t see why you can’t leave this case to me.” You said simply, nonchalantly putting your sketchbook back into your bag.

The man got up from his chair and briskly stepped towards you to stare you down in the eye. Atsushi could feel the intensity as a shiver down his spine. Rampo-san seemed to only be annoyed by the situation.

“And what makes you think I would leave something this important over to you?”

You pouted dramatically at his response. “And why not? I will be in the capable hands of the detective agency, you’ll get to take a break from watching me as well.”

The man let out an heavy sigh. Somehow, Atsushi got the feeling that these two people didn’t really get along too well. He felt like he was watching something that really wasn’t any of his business.

He averted his eyes from the scene and jumped when you go close and held his hand in both of yours.

“You’ll help me, won’t you?” You said sweetly. Atsushi squeaked.

“O-o-of course! Yes!” He had without knowing what he had agreed to and before even realizing he was being manipulated. But he had no time to think of that as you let out the sweetest little “Hooray” and he was smiling like an idiot, feeling rewarded for agreeing.

But then, he realized, he was surrounded by all the members of the agency who had come to watch the show.

“Fine,” The man sighed heavily. “I hope you know what’s in it for you if you screw this up,”

“Of course I do,” You answered in a low voice, but Atsushi noticed you had gripped his hand a little tighter.

‘Oh my god she is still holding my hand,’

“Well I don’t expect much,” He grumbled. ”Not that not much can be done with a bad luck charm holding you down after all.”

And with that the man went through the door, just as Kyoka-chan came back in. She seemed rather surprised at the scene before her.

‘Bad luck charm? What did that mean?’ Atsushi wondered, but the onslaught of teasing brought him back to reality once again.

“Oh my, Atsushi-kun!” Dazai wailed. “Have you found yourself sweet love with this lady over here?”

Atsushi jolted, “A-a-a-ah, I uhmm, Miss-?”

Your touch felt close to burning his hands, which were still tightly hold by you. So tightly in fact, that you wouldn’t let him tug away as you intently watched the door.

Atsushi was shocked to find that he recognized this look in your eyes. This careful look, that was counting the seconds till you were sure the man had in fact disappeared.

“Hey brat, explain yourself, who is this?”

“It’s the lady he goes to the park for, to make eyes at.” Kyoka-chan answered kunikida with disapproval; she had gone with Atsushi to the park before.

“What- Kyoka-chan! I don’t ‘make eyes’ at her!!” Atsushi burst out in self defense, but he still couldn’t bring himself to more forcefully attempt to pull his hands away.

His response had caught your attention and you looked back at him with much less of a gentle more cold expression than before and it scared him.

“Hmmm,” You pulled your hands away and closed your eyes.

“ah- err, Miss?”

You breathed in deeply and leaned your head back, as if you were about to say something very emotionally heavy. Everyone in the agency was silent as your arms shot up in the air and you opened your mouth.

“FINALLY! VIVA LA FREEDOM!”

’Hah??’

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-part 2-

#atsushi nakajima #atsushi #bsd #bsd x reader #atsushi x reader #bungo stray dogs #nakajima atsushi x reader #hc #headcanon #bungo stray dogs x reader #imagine #mine #fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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poppibranchlover · 4 years

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Nine Lives, One Fight - The Final Chapter: Part 34

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 33. Now get ready for the grand finale of the story - Part 34!:

A day has passed since Branch had transformed back into a Troll, and life begins to resume normally for him. For now, he was busy doing his usual job; collecting sticks around the village to bring back to his bunker. As he walked past the crowd of Trolls, he greeted them, and they all greeted back, happy to see their beloved village grump doing his business once again.

Branch took a deep breath to admire the fresh air. “Ahhh…what a good day to walk around the village again,” he said, smiling happily.

As he walked, a familiar building with a smiling carrot caught his eye. He took a few moments to recognize it. One glance confirmed that it was Tommy’s carrot restaurant!

Branch gazed down at the restaurant door and saw his best friend cradling a bunch of carrots and surrounded by three baby rabbits. “Wiggles!” he called out to him by his bunny nickname.

Tommy saw him approaching the restaurant and waved back at him “Hi, Branch!” he said.

Branch ran and gave him a big hug. “Hey, man!” he said, shaking hands with him. “I came to see what you’re doing! So your restaurant’s back in business, huh?” He looked up at his newly-reopened carrot restaurant. It was even better than before!

“Yes, of course!” Tommy said, nodding. “I got my job back after the spell reverted, and since I want a place for my kids to stay, I let them in here, all warm and cozy.”

He started petting the little bunnies near his feet. Branch knelt down and patted their tiny heads as well. “It’s so good to see you guys again!” he said. “Now they can live with you forever since you raised them!”

“Yeah, you’re darn truly right!” Tommy agreed in his new accent. He bumped fists with Branch, like they did before when they were animals.

It was a warm and fuzzy moment to be with his best friend he had ever known, until Branch began to think what he wanted to say to him. He sighed as his hands clutched tightly to his bundle of sticks. “You know, after all we’ve been through, I just want to ask you regarding our friendship,” he told Tommy. “Is this okay for you that I’ll be your best friend?”

Tommy laughed. “Oh, you stop being so hard on yourself, kid. You’re being naïve! Times have changed, and we go to our usual business! But of course, we’re friends to the end!”

He put his hand to Branch’s shoulder, smiling. Touched, he smiled back as well, glad to accept this Troll as one of his friends.

A baby rabbit tried reaching for a carrot in Tommy’s arms. “Uh, I could use some help here, kid!” he said.

Branch took a carrot from Tommy’s hand and offered it to the little rabbit, and the critter began chewing on it.

“So, how long you’ve started a business of your own?” Branch asked as he fed the baby rabbit.

“I don’t know...a couple years,” Tommy replied, matching his tone. “I didn’t want to hide in a burrow waiting for my life to change. After you found that magical mushroom, you did helped me along the way.”

“Hmmm, yeah,” Branch said, looking over at Tommy. “For your information, you’ve handled this farming business better than I can with my survival skills.”

“Well, you’d be surprised,” Tommy said with a smile. “I guess we know that we’re different yet we can change our own perspectives. It’s nature.”

“Really, huh?” Branch asked, raising his eyebrow. “I never thought of that.” After the baby rabbit finished eating up her carrot, she jumped into his arms.

“Ah, kid. You’re selling yourself short.” Tommy patted his tiny rabbits and offers them more carrots to eat. Then he turned to Branch and began to say what came out in his mind. “I think that you’d make a perfect invention for Poppy’s next Show-and-Tell party tomorrow.”

“What?” Branch asked, shocked. His jaw dropped when he heard these words. “But I thought it’s just one party few days ago! She’s making another one…for me?”

“According to her, it’s dedicated to you!” Tommy said, patting him on the back. “After the incident where we became cat and bunny, I was hoping the Queen would give you another chance to get on stage!”

Branch just stood there, still shocked at these exciting news. He couldn’t believe Poppy is setting up another Show-and-Tell festival, and it would be made specially for him! When he was a cat at the time the festival began, it was a complete disaster. Now that Branch is a Troll again, the party will be a success once more if he had come up there.

“Besides, she did put you back in the list,” Tommy added. “So what do you say, kid? Ready to go up on stage for one last time?”

Branch quickly began to think for a moment, rubbing his chin with his finger. “Hmmmm…so Poppy is making another Show-and-Tell festival and it will be specially made for me,” he said with resolve. “What should I be inventing?”

As a survivalist, Branch is a great expert on inventions. Soon, another brilliant idea had struck him, and his eyes widened with determination.

“Oooh! I know what I can make!” he said proudly. “This time, my effort will be perfect!”

Then he leaned in closer to Tommy and whispered his idea incoherently into his ear. All he was whispering was, “I will make a…and it will be different than before…”

Tommy leaned forward, attempting to listen to every word he was saying. “Huh? What you saying, kid? What is your idea?”

He didn’t understand what this idea had meant, but Branch will be sure that this will settle the entire festival quite well.

Moments later, Branch went back home, with the idea still in his head. With sheer confidence, he whipped out his tools and began to build his newest invention.

Hammering, painting and using as many tools as he can, Branch worked so hard this evening to come up with an invention that will truly surprise the Trolls in the festival. For the finishing touches, he covered his face with a welding mask and used a blowtorch to weld some pieces of metal together.

After he was done, Branch took a few moments to admire his work. He stretched his measuring tape to ensure the perfect size of his invention. He was certain that he will be declared first place as soon as he finished some preparations.

“I won’t let you down this time, Poppy,” he said under his breath, ready for the main event tomorrow.

The next day, the second Show-and-Tell festival had finally begun. After the rest of the Trolls signed up to go on stage already presented their projects, it was now Branch’s turn. Poppy skipped her way to the stage and held up her microphone to address the crowd.

“Drumroll please…” she announced as drums played in the corner. “Here comes the final contestant! Our beloved village grump…Branch!”

As the Trolls cheered, Branch pushed a giant object that is covered with a big red cloth on the stage.

Poppy is surprised at this enormous material he brought out. “Whoa! And it looks like Branch’s project is something HUGE!!!” she gushed. “Something very different entirely!”

Branch took out the red cover, revealing a giant metallic machine! “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you…my homemade Fruit-Presser 2.0!” he announced confidently.

The Trolls cheered excitedly as Branch proceeded to explain about his invention. “As you all know, I made this invention as a test to ensure proper nutrition, so any of you can use it whatever you want!”

He pointed out to every part of the Fruit-Presser, explaining how it works. Then he pulled out a cup from his hair. “With this, you can make delicious fruit punches, juices, smoothies and milkshakes out of this machine! Let’s test this baby out!”

Branch started pouring some berries into a funnel and pushed a button on the machine. It began to churn as the berries got sucked into the hole of the funnel. As the fruits were compressed by the mechanical supports of the Fruit-Presser, liquid began to spin around in the tank. Poppy and the audience watched as fruity liquid dispensed out of the machine and poured into Branch’s cup. He pushed a button to turn it off, and started drinking the fruit juice.

After he finished testing his project out, Branch turned to the crowd. “Don’t just sit there and eat lots of sugar,” he said. “Just try it in my heavily-fortified bunker for free!”

Poppy took a moment to admire his project. Then, with an excited squeal, she stepped forward. “Would you look at that? Branch’s speech and project is 10 out of 10 excellent! He is declared a winner!”

Branch was astonished. “What?! Really?!” he asked. “I AM A WINNER?!” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing.

Poppy smiled at him and held up a shiny gold medal. “Congratulations, Branch!” she announced. “You deserve a 1st place medal and you get to be the co-leader of Troll Village from now on!”

Branch gasped, overwhelmed with intense excitement. He took the medal from Poppy’s hands and placed it around his neck. “YEAH!!! WOOO-HOOOOO!!!” he cheered happily, accepting the reward while jumping up and pumping the air with a victory fist.

Poppy held his hands, grinning. “We are all so proud of you, Branch!” she told him.

Just then, everyone starts to cheer very loud that Branch is now a first place winner in the Show-and-Tell festival. “YAAAAAAY!!! HOORAY FOR BRANCH AND HIS AMAZING FRUIT-PRESSER PROJECT!!!”

Behind the rest of the crowd, Poppy’s friends are also cheering for him. Even King Peppy and Tommy are joining the fun as well.

“WOO-HOO!!! Way to go, kid!” Tommy whooped from the audience as he congratulated his best friend’s greatest effort.

Branch looked around at the crowd, beaming proudly at them as his medal in his neck shone bright. He had never been this proud before, and now all of the Trolls are cheering for him, recognizing him as their newest hero.

They begin to chant out his name over and over. “BRANCH!!! BRANCH!!! BRANCH!!! BRANCH!!! BRANCH!!!”

Looking over at the happy crowd of chanting Trolls, Branch is even more happier than ever. He was glad that, despite of the magical trouble that had happened, everyone is safely happy and are glad to see that his invention is a complete success.

“It’s good to be me again!” Branch whispered happily to himself.

Later that day, Poppy and Branch went out to their favorite meadow to have a picnic again. This time, they gathered here in celebration of Branch’s Fruit-Presser project becoming a huge success during the Show-and-Tell festival’s next attempt.

Poppy gazed up at the beautiful white clouds in the blue sky, while Branch sat on a beach chair, wearing sunglasses and reading his favorite SuperTroll comic book. They were having a great time together as they ate their snacks, drinking up their favorite drinks and sharing moments with each other.

Poppy sighed happily as she looked up at the fluffy clouds. “I really like open skies!” she said, grinning.

Branch raised his sunglasses up to his hair to look clearly at her. “Yeah, me too,” he replied. “Never would’ve really thought it was fun to set up our picnic here once again.” Then he went back to reading his comic book, posing it like a tanning mirror.

Poppy smiled at him. Then she picked up a scrapbook that laid beside the picnic basket and approached him. “I have something for you,” she told him, nudging his arm. “I should have given it to you before, but I thought you might like this!”

Branch took out his sunglasses and placed his book down on the ground. He got up from the chair and stood up with his arms crossed. “Hah! Okay, my Queen,” he said smugly, displaying a sarcastic look on his face. “What is it you want to show me?”

Poppy held the book up for him to see, opening it to reveal the first page. It depicted miniature felt cutouts of herself and Branch as a cat on a field landscape. The title on top of the picture read:

The Adventures of MR. TICKLE

“TA-DAH!!!” Poppy cried, smiling widely. “A book dedicated to taking care of you as a cat! What do you think?” She stared at Branch, waiting for his reaction.

He looked embarrassed, grabbing his chest and groaning. His cheeks instantly blushed purple. “Ugh. Why did you make this?” he asked feebly.

Poppy grinned as she turned the pages of her new scrapbook. All of the pages she made were about Branch’s adventures that happened a few days ago. “Isn’t this so adorable?” she squealed, admiring every single one of them. “I made this scrapbook to recount my experience on adopting you!” She pointed out to some of them. “Look, see how I fed you milk and cat food, throwing a ball of yarn for you to catch, tickling your furry tummy and tugging at my dress! Look how cute you are!”

Branch interrupted her reading, looking more embarrassed at every second of it. “Uh…that sounds cute, Poppy,” he said nervously. “But I felt like these were all about my adventures.”

“Really?”

“Yeah...” Branch rolled his eyes, trying to forget what he saw, but he couldn’t resist admiring his girlfriend’s creativity. “On second thought, I…probably wanted to save it as a souvenir just in case.”

“That’s great, Branch!” Poppy said. “At least you will remember everything we did together!”

“Uh-huh.” Branch nodded, agreeing with her. “After all, it is one of your hardcore-mastered scrapbooks!” He couldn’t help but smile.

Poppy placed her scrapbook inside her hair as an idea struck in her mind. “Maybe someday, I’ll adopt a real pet of my own when I visit the animal shelter again!” she told him. “I was hoping it was another cat as cute as you!”

Branch looked doubtful. “You sure?” he said to her. “If you’re gonna keep a pet, you will need to take care of it responsibly. Give it a good hygiene, play with it inside and out, cuddle it and don’t let it run away to the dangerous outdoors…like I once did before.” He looked away, remembering his days when he was a little cat.

Poppy patted him on his back to comfort him. “Don’t worry, Branch!” she said. “Unlike you, it will always stay with me forever!”

“I hope so,” Branch whispered, looking away from her with shame. “And I hope you will do a great job as the queen throughout these years.”

Poppy listened carefully to his sentence. But it suddenly hit her and she gasped, realizing what the problem could be. “Are you okay? I never realized that you feel embarrassed about my new scrapbook.”

Branch shook his head, looking upset. “Uh, no. It’s not about your scrapbook,” he insisted. He hesitated a moment longer before blurting “It’s just I’m feeling tired.”

Poppy grabbed his hands and settled him down onto the picnic blanket. “Oh, come on. You’re doing great!” She quickly thought of a solution that would cheer him up and pulled out their love blanket she used to transform him back into a Troll. “I know what you need.”

Branch moved next to her and let Poppy wrap the blanket tightly around his shoulders.

“I know what you’re doing, Poppy!” he said teasingly.

“Just hold still,” Poppy said with a giggle as she finished wrapping the blanket around him. It wasn’t long before he yawned and laid down on her lap, falling asleep.

Poppy smiled; this comfy blanket had always known best. Without another thought, she placed her hand on Branch’s side and caressed him, just like when she used to pet him in cat form. As she stroked him, he began to purr softly. “Puuuurrrrrr…”

When Poppy heard the sound, she stopped caressing the blanket and stared at him. “Uh, Branch. Are you purring?” she asked, confused as if maybe the spell that turned him into a cat is half-broken.

Branch sat up and opened one eye. “What? No,” he replied. “What does it look like I’m purring? I’m just snoring.” He shrugged to show no problem in him at all. He was still the same old Branch as always.

Poppy ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek. She didn’t know what to make of his silly sleeping noises anyway, so she just went with a general compliment. “That’s okay! I prefer you snoring anyway!”

“Well, that’s just very simple in my opinion.” Branch stood up and playfully swished his blanket like a superhero cape. “I always made the best impressions!”

He giggled, and Poppy did the same. Then he drew closer to her and said in a sweet voice, “Meow!”

Poppy gasped at the sound of his voice, suddenly worried.

But then, Branch spoke to her in a normal voice, “Just kidding!”

He and Poppy both laugh out with joy, relieved that it was only one of the blue Troll’s mischievous pranks. She reached out her arms and hugged him. “Not bad for an adorable sarcastic mopi!” she cried out with a laugh. Then she kissed him on his cheek again. That is what Branch usually loved best about his experiences with her. He always loved to be there for her all the time.

“I love you, my sweet kitty!” Poppy said, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Grinning, Branch wrapped his arms around her, returning her embrace. He was so proud that he is able to spend a lot of time with her every day. If it weren’t for him sticking along with Poppy and listening to her warnings, he would still be a cat, but he was glad to be his regular self again. The two Trolls both looked lovingly at each other as the sun began to set, making the meadow around them even more beautiful than ever. Poppy couldn’t resist her smile as she brought her lips closer to Branch’s to kiss him under the sunlight.

Deep in his heart, Branch knew this is exactly where he was meant to be...totally free from his nine lives.

Yep, I’m actually crying. I can’t believe it’s the end! 😭😭😭

I passed a few months on that fanfiction, and I wanted to say thank you to everyone for reading this story. I remember the day I saw Eva’s drawing of Branch as a cat in a posting thread about Trolls as animals, and taking inspiration from that drawing, I never thought I can try making a story about it. And if I did work on this fanfic, it’s not only because I made up this idea for myself, it’s my self-motivation that made me do it because I would like to make the result of this story to look cute and amazing for everyone to see.

So thank you, and enjoy the end of Nine Lives, One Fight. It’s been a long and fantastic journey to make this story with any of you reblogging and liking all the parts. You are all great people! 🥰😊

#dreamworks trolls #poppy and branch #broppy #poppy #branch #cat branch story #nine lives one fight #fanfiction #the final chapter #happy ending #tommy #tommy the troll

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sushisama · 5 years

Text

Longing for Clarity Chapter Sixteen

Pairing. Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (main, pre-established), eventual one-sided DekuBowl, other pairings hinted at Part. Sixteen/Twenty-Three Rating. Story has overall NSFW tones and mentions, but the sex scenes will be left as side stories. Synopsis. Slice of life AU. Check chapter one notes for details. Katsuki is in his senior year, and though he’s dealing his own questionable mental condition, he can’t help the excitement of the upcoming graduation. But his boyfriend, Izuku, has been acting strange, being almost a little too intimate. They come to find out that Izuku is going through the fermin, a predicament certain Quirk holders go through. Now Katsuki is being forced into considering relinquishing the secrecy of their relationship, if only to keep all he wandering eyes from Izuku. Notes. Izuku starts to make plans for the Snow Sculpture Festival. Katsuki is given a truth he should have known all along. Second Note. I am so sorry that it took so long. I really wanted to have this out sooner, but life has gotten in my way over and over. What really took so long is where I try to stay a chapter ahead on the Patreon, the one up on there is super super long. And barring the stress of cons, the rest will flow easier now. Thank you for those sticking around. I appreciate it and hope you continue to enjoy!

For those of you interested, there is early access to chapters and access to NSFW side stories available to patrons on my Patreon. Chapter sixteen is already up! Please consider supporting me! Thank you! <3

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Index

Izuku woke up in a cold sweat.

He was gasping for air, as though the running he had done in his nightmare had affected his lungs in the waking world. He was covered in sweat, and his covers had been thrown off, leaving him cold. He rubbed at his shoulders, trying to warm himself up as he forced his breathing to return to normal.

He turned quickly, looking for what should be quick comfort. "Katc—"

There was no one next to him. He bit his thumb. Of course there was no one. Katsuki always left in the early morning, trying not to be caught.

Izuku laid back against the pillows with a sigh. He wanted Katsuki there. He wanted to have him there when he woke up any morning. He liked having him there. Not just for the fermin, but just because he loved waking up with the arms around him.

When they stayed at each other's houses, it was close to perfect. They fell asleep and woke together, but they rarely got such mornings without parents somehow being involved. Their parents were thankfully pretty hands off when it came to their relationship, but it wasn’t the same as if they were free of them. He knew that from the few weekends they had without them. Their time was completely theirs, even whey already had early morning plans.

Izuku wanted that. Izuku wanted nights and morning on their terms. Izuku wanted to go to bed after a long day of work with the man he loved, and he wanted to wake up the next day and get ready with him. He had been thinking about it for a while. The Tour just solidified the goal in his mind.

Izuku wanted to live with Katsuki, after they had graduated. Or at least, give it a try.

He bit his thumb again. His nightmare was starting to come back up, and it only made him want to see Katsuki more. He reached for his phone and turned on the screen. It was still early in the morning, hours before their shift started. He frowned, thinking Katsuki would have stayed a little longer.

He probably just couldn't sleep.

Izuku brought up his call list, ignoring the other notifications waiting, and hit send on the second most called number. He rolled onto his side, holding the phone to his ear as it started to ring. It was only two before the line picked up.

"Deku." There was some noise in the background and what sounded like voices.

"Morning, Katchan..."

There was a pause. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I..." He bit his lip. It was going to sound so pathetic, but... "...what are you doing right now?"

"We're getting ready to go to that stupid breakfast thing," he said. His tone was a little confused. "Where are you? Shouldn't you have left with Round Face and them?"

Izuku groaned. Right, he remembered. The students of class 1-A had made plans to go get breakfast, all together and catch up. They were to go early, get as much time together before work. It was a rushed plan made mostly between the girls of the class, but everyone seemed content with it. Trying to get a dinner was proving too difficult, with everyone getting off at different times and some just not wanting to do anything after.

Or, in Izuku's case, he only wanted time with Katsuki most days.

"Wait, that's..." Izuku ran a hand through his hair. He looked at his phone, seeing the notifications at the top. He vaguely heard Katsuki asking for him as he went through the few messages, all from Uraraka. He sighed. He must have slept through his alarm.

"Deku?"

"Sorry, was checking my texts," he said. He started to get out of bed. He stretched everything but the arm holding his phone.

"...you know, if you'd rather I just stay with you..." Katsuki's tone wasn't even suggestive.

Izuku rolled his eyes. "You're going, Katchan."

Katsuki scoffed. He could hear someone speak behind him, who he thought sounded like Kirishima. Katsuki just groaned.

"Do you want us to wait for you?"

"Did Uraraka already leave?"

"She went with a couple others to get the table or whatever."

Izuku was already getting dressed. He was having trouble with the one hand, but he had already gotten his pants mostly on. He was still waking up; otherwise he might have remembered that the speaker phone existed.

"Do you mind?"

"Whatever," Katsuki said. "Just hurry up. We're right outside."

"Be right there," Izuku said. "Love you."

There was a bit of silence.

"Love you, too. Now get the fuck out here."

The line clicked. Izuku smiled, a small chuckle leaving him. Katsuki was getting more into the small affections in front of others. He wasn't quiet with his admission and he knew there were others around him. And those others knew who he was talking to.

Izuku felt his heart swell at that realisation. Katsuki had tried so hard, despite his clear obstinateness. He really wanted to overcome the obstacle, and Izuku wanted to show his appreciation. It was something they should have been through already, but he had only looked the other way for so long because of Katsuki's nature. There were flaws with this, but they were overcoming it.

Together.

Izuku's reward was subtle; one he was sure Katsuki hadn't caught right away. But it was just a little more for him. He knew Katsuki had told Hagakure the other night, fulfilling their agreement. Izuku was free to tell whoever he wanted. And he almost had the night before when talking to Uraraka. He refrained from it, just for the moment. He would tell her, most likely before the end of the day, but the extra moment of secrecy was just for Katsuki.

Izuku finished getting his clothes on and headed out. He locked his door as an afterthought, and went down the corridor.

"Hey, Midoriya!"

Izuku stopped mid stride to turn, facing the source of the voice. Kuroiro stood just inside the men's kitchen, a smile on his lips as he looked him over. Izuku hesitantly smiled back and waved. He hadn't really spoked to him since the train ride, still put off by his behaviour. He seemed to not have noticed, though, as he approached him.

"Morning, Kuroiro," he said. He turned on his polite demeanour, pushing back any uncomfortable thoughts. After all, he may have misinterpreted it all, and he meant nothing offensive when he was sharing his phone. He might have been trying to come out, even, and needing a way to do it.

Though, maybe, he could have done it without porn that looked like him in some very compromising positions.

"Been busy?" Kuroiro asked as he came closer. "Haven't seen you as much this week."

Izuku nodded. By busy, he was either with friends or dragging Katsuki off, but it was still busy. "Just been really tired after work."

This seemed to be enough for Kuroiro. He smiled still and there was thankfully nothing suspecting in his expression. "Maybe you could chill out in my room sometime? We could just watch movies and relax."

There was nothing untoward about his request. His voice was friendly and there was nothing suggestive in his words. He had been asking the same thing since they first started conversing.

And yet, Izuku still couldn't help feeling uneasy about the offer.

"Maybe later," he said, forcing a pleasant tone. "I actually—"

"Are you going to the party on Friday?"

"What party?"

"There's a guy who graduated from the school in this area," Kuroiro said, "and apparently he throws a party for the Tour as it comes through. A big hooray or something."

Izuku raised a brow. "Isn't that a little... odd?"

Kuroiro shrugged. "From what I understand, he started it first for himself and then his little sister. Then he just kept doing it."

Izuku clicked his tongue. "That still sounds a little suspicious."

"We can take care of ourselves, right?"

He had a point.

"We'll see," Izuku said, though it was noncommittal. "Let me see if Uraraka is going."

He seemed a little disappointed hear the name, but he still nodded. "Just consider it, yeah?"

Izuku's smile became a little more genuine. A party didn't sound too bad, especially if he could drag Katsuki with him. "I will," he said sincerely. "But I actually do need to get going; I'm meeting people for breakfast."

"Oh, yeah, sure, sure." Kuroiro took a step back. "Have fun."

Izuku passed by him, waving, and headed toward the exit of the building once more. He could feel Kuroiro's eyes on him as he left, but he chose to ignore it.

A notification tone went off on his phone, and he pulled it out to check it. He found one from Katsuki that read:

Kirishima wanted to go early because he's being an idiot and can't handle shit, whatever. The others are still out there, though, waiting for you. Love you.

Izuku raised a brow, not sure what to think about what he was saying about Kirishima. He would just have to ask later.

He sent an acknowledgement text just as he was stepping outside. He had only breached the doors when his name was being called. He didn't hesitate this time, but instantly went to the ones calling out for him. Kaminari and Hagakure were at the base of the entrance steps waiting for him.

"Morning, Izuku-kun," Hagakure chirped. She was wrapped up in so much clothing, but it was clear the slight snow was still getting to her by the shiver that went through her body. Izuku felt a little bad, her waiting for him, even if he appreciated it.

Kaminari gave a similar greeting, though something was off about his usual jovial behaviour.

"Morning," he called as he joined him. "Thanks for waiting. You guys didn't have to."

Kaminari smiled. "It's fine, man," he said. "We offered to."

Izuku beamed at them. "Well, I still appreciate it."

They started off, heading toward the restaurant that all of them had agreed on. Before they got too far, Shinsou had joined them, and soon the small group was holding a conversation.

Halfway there, Izuku's phone had gone off with an email notification. He checked it to find a professionally titled bit of correspondence. He skimmed over it as they came to a stop crosswalk. He didn't move right away at the crossing tone, something that seemed to catch Kaminari's attention. He leaned in from behind him, putting his chin on his shoulders as he pushed him on.

"What's so interesting?"

"It's just an agency offer," Izuku answered.

"Who from?" Shinsou asked. His tone might be even, but his curiosity was evident.

"The Yuchoen Agency."

"Isn't that Nabang's Agency?" Hagakure inquired.

Izuku nodded. "They've sent me a couple of things since the start of the Tour," he said. "Now they're asking for a sit down since I'm in Sapporo."

"Well, isn't that perfect?" Kaminari offered.

Izuku raised a brow. He moved himself from out and under his chin to get a better look at his face. "What do you mean?"

Kaminari gave a look to Shinsou before looking back at Izuku. He kept his voice low as he said, "Since Bakugou got the offer at the JH. Wouldn't that just work out well for you two?"

Izuku's eyes widened a little bit in confusion. "Katchan got an offer to the JH?"

When? And what hadn't he told him...?

Kaminari bit his lip. He could tell he had spoken out of turn. "I just overheard him and Eiji talking about it," he said. "So I just figured he told you."

Izuku sighed. "He probably just didn't get a chance to yet."

"You do keep him busy, huh?"

Izuku pushed at his shoulder, ignoring the heat to his cheeks. Kaminari laughed in return, earning looks from Hagakure and Shinsou, but he just waved them off.

It wasn't much longer before they came to the restaurant. Izuku smiled when his eyes fell on Katsuki, who was just outside the door, looking at his phone. Kaminari caught his attention, throwing some snow at him he'd scraped up from the ground. Katsuki gave him a dangerous look, and he leaned down to pick up his own snow.

"Oi, Bakugou."

"What?"

"<Don't.>"

Katsuki's hand stilled at the simple command. Shinsou smirked as Katsuki glared at him. No matter how many times it happened, he always answered Shinsou's bait, to the same end. Katsuki would growl and get upset, but he never did anything about it. Shinsou meant nothing malicious about it, using it more as a water bottle on a dog than anything else.

Izuku couldn't exactly be upset about it, either. Especially when he seemed to be learning from it.

Shinsou held the door for Hagakure and Kaminari, the latter giving the tired teen a grin. He looked to see if Izuku was coming, but he shook his head. Shinsou left them, still smirking.

"You okay, Katchan?"

Katsuki nodded. He was looking inside, and Izuku followed his gaze. He could just barely see inside the restaurant, but in the back, he could tell the class all picking seats as they talked to each other.

"It's just a couple of hours, at the most," Izuku said.

Katsuki didn't answer at first. "...I know."

Izuku nudged him. "It'll be fine."

"What about you?"

Izuku raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"When you called this morning," Katsuki said. His attention was finally on Izuku. "You just... sounded kind of upset."

Izuku smiled softly. He reached out and gently touched his hand. Katsuki tensed a little, but he didn't move away. "It's stupid."

"What is?"

Izuku shook his head. "I just had a really bad nightmare," he answered. "I just wanted to see you, that was all."

"What was it about?"

"Don't worry about it," he assured him. He didn't want to talk about the way Katsuki left him in the subconscious scenario. Or how everyone got to him, piled onto him, did things, and he didn't stop them. His scent was physical, hanging in the air and leading people to him. And Katsuki's face during it all...

There was no point in bringing it up. Katsuki was already so worried, and it would be cruel just to add to it.

"Let's just go have a good meal with our friends," Izuku said, quick to switch topics. He rolled his eyes when Katsuki groaned. "The sooner we do this, the sooner it's over."

Katsuki opened the door for Izuku. "Yeah, yeah." He waited for Izuku to go in before following in. "Just... why am I even here?" His question was soft but still hung in the air.

Izuku looked back to him, his expression soft. The Tour was taking a toll on both of them, in much different ways. Katsuki's moods were all over the place, brought on by so many outside influences. Izuku could only be so much help, though, with his own needs almost bullying him into focus on being selfish.

Katsuki was clearly about to swing down from the small mania he'd been having, but all he could focus on was the taut muscles under his skin tight thermal shirt. He was cursing him taking off his jacket already and distracting him from the concern to the obvious mood shift. He had to shake his head and force his eyes on the blond spikes.

"Katchan, you know that—"

"Deku-kun!"

Izuku looked to the back where his name was being called. Uraraka was waving at him from a round booth in the back, ushering him over. The class had two of the semi-circle booths side-by-side, and they were full aside from the late occupants. It was separated by Izuku's friends and Katsuki's 'squad' almost perfectly, and he couldn't help but notice it.

He almost wished they had just gotten a long table, one he could still be close to Katsuki, while giving his friends his attention. Isn't that the point of telling them? So he could intermingle?

Izuku reached for Katsuki's hand, ready to forget all pretences and just come out to everyone fully. However, his boyfriend had already rushed to the other booth to sit in the open seat at the end. Izuku sighed, but let it go. There was time later to give everyone the revelation.

Izuku made his way to the other booth and sat down at the only seat upon next to Todoroki. Behind him was where Katsuki had ended up, and something about having him close was comforting. He settled into the seat and almost instantly picked up on the conversation they were having. He smiled wide, happy to be among friends, and soon his nightmare was quickly forgotten.

The groups were noisy the entire time they were in the restaurant. They ordered their food and only barely paused in their conversation to eat. They discussed a variety of things, ranging from work, to graduation plans, and even just random topics like movies and music. Izuku was enjoying himself, happy to be in such a lively situation.

He forgot about the Tour and his fermin for a good moment. It was... refreshing.

Behind him, he could hear Katsuki talking just barely under Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ashido. He could hear him participating, but his tone of voice gave him away. He was enjoying himself, he knew, but he was affected by whatever was occupying his mind at the time.

He would be better, Izuku thought. It was just a moment, a passing. Being around friends would definitely help. He could imagine Katsuki saying how much he hated the socialising, but his voice would pick up when he was eager about the topic on hand.

It was a moment, and moments passed.

The conversation veered into the snow sculpture festival they would be attending as a group the following night. They were making plans about time and events, and eventually attire was mentioned. The discussion led to it was a proper festival, so proper clothing was required.

"I didn't think to bring a kimono," Izuku admitted. He had thought of the winter festivals they would be going to, but dressing for them hadn't' been at the forefront of his mind when he was getting things together for the Tour.

No, he had been thinking about how he was staying with Katsuki that night, and it had been a very distracting line of thinking.

"I brought two," Todoroki spoke up. "If you like, you can borrow one."

Izuku smiled. "That would be great; I'd really appreciate it."

Todoroki smiled back, but there was something a little more in his eyes. Izuku decided to ignore it, knowing better than to give it any weight.

"Oi, Deku." Katsuki was leaning over the booths, his body coming in between Izuku and Todoroki. Izuku blinked, but kept his smile, though his brow quirked a little. Had he been listening? He knew Katsuki wasn't fond of him, but there was no—

"Give me that bacon."

Oh. Now who was overthinking?

Izuku chuckled and held up his plate for him. Uraraka was giving them a look as Katsuki started to pick the meat off the plate. She had been the one to first bring up what to wear at the festival and it was clear she still wanted to talk about it. Her eyes glanced to Todoroki, something telling in her expression, but Izuku couldn't catch as to what.

"Done be so rude, Bakugou," she scolded him.

Katsuki scoffed. "He wasn't going to finish it." And he wasn't. Izuku really only liked one or two pieces at a time unless he was really hungry. He commonly gave Katsuki his left overs, since he was normally a garbage disposal.

Uraraka didn't seem too impressed by the answer, but let it go. Katsuki turned back around in his seat after finishing off what was left on his plate. Izuku shrugged it off and went back to the previous conversation.

He vaguely heard the other group talking about the same thing, before Ashido and Hagakure's excited voices took over. They were still hushed, but something was almost overly jovial and mischievous in their tones.

Eventually they were starting to file out to get back to the dormitories to get ready for work. Some of them staggered behind, and Izuku found himself still talking to Uraraka, the time getting away from him. They were some of the last to get up and pay, still deep in their conversation.

Katsuki had left long before by himself. Izuku wasn't surprised and was just happy he had stayed as long as he did.

Hagakure joined them on their way back to the UA building. She and Uraraka started talking about the festival again, but by this point, Izuku had zoned out a little. He pulled out his phone and sent a few messages, one of which was to Katsuki to see if he was up for a visit before work. His fermin wasn't really driving him to seek attention, and he was more than content to get some non-sexual moments with his boyfriend while he was able to.

"That sounds like a great idea!" he heard Uraraka squeal. "Doesn't it, Deku?"

Izuku blinked and looked between them. "I'm sorry, what?"

Uraraka seemed undeterred by his inattention, still smiling. "We were talking about getting really dressed up and nice for the festival." Her eyes held the same excitement as her voice.

"Get really into it, you know?" Hagakure chimed in.

Izuku glanced between them. It sounded pretty normal for girls, right? Why were they putting so much emphasis on this?

"I mean, sure," he said, feeling it the right answer.

Uraraka beamed, and by her squeal, he thought Hagakure was doing the same.

...what had he walked into?

"So you'll join us then?"

"What?"

"We'll only do a little, we promise," Hagakure said. "Just enough to get you to stand out."

"What do you mean?"

"Only just a little makeup," Uraraka said. She was talking more to Hagakure than him. "I think it's more about the outfit."

Hagakure's earrings moved as she nodded. "We should ask Todoroki to see his kimono, to get some ideas."

"Oh, of course," Uraraka agreed.

Izuku kept walking, just behind them, and clearly not that involved in their discussion as he thought he should be. He just assumed he had no real say in the matter. He wasn't completely adverse to the idea, having been at his friend's hands before for such things, he just wanted to have an opinion.

He caught when he was supposed to be available for said makeover. He only barely agreed when they reached the dormitories.

Uraraka waved them off shortly after the got inside. Izuku was about to leave himself when Hagakure stopped him.

"I didn't know if we were allowed to bring it up around her..." Her voice was low, only for Izuku to hear.

"What is it?"

"We were talking, and we had a suggestion for the festival."

"'We'?"

"Mina and I," she admitted. "But Eijirou-kun and Denki-kun agreed."

Izuku tilted his head, clearly curious. "And what's the suggestion?"

Hagakure clapped her hands together and made something like a squeal. "You two come together to the festival."

Izuku raised a brow. "I figured we were all going as group already."

"No, no, no," Hagakure interjected with a wave of a hand. "Together together."

Izuku's eyes widened with realisation. He felt a blush creep up his cheeks at the idea, but he couldn't help the smile that came. "You think we should come out then?"

Hagakure nodded. "Wouldn't it be sweet?"

Izuku had to agree. It would be... "I would like that, yeah." His smile had grown. "Did Katchan agree to it?"

"As much as he was going to."

He laughed. "Sounds about right."

"So you like the idea?"

Izuku nodded, beaming. "I do," he said. "Is Katchan going to...?"

"Mina-chan is going to make sure Katsuki-kun looks presentable," she answered.

Izuku chuckled. "That will be a sight to see."

"It will definitely be fun," Hagakure agreed.

Izuku nodded. He looked at his phone and noticed the time. "Ah, well, I need to get ready for work."

"Yeah, me, too." She started to wave before exclaiming: "Oh! Before I forget..." She dug through her skirt before pulling something out and handing it to him.

"Katsuki-kun forgot this at the restaurant," she said. "And I figured you would be seeing him before me."

Izuku took the device, looking at the phone. It was an odd thing for Katsuki to leave, but he was pulled by Kirishima a lot during the morning.

"Ah, thanks," Izuku said. "I'll get it right to him."

"I'm sure you will," she said teasingly.

Izuku rolled his eyes but smiled. "Have a good day at work, Hagakure."

"You, too, Izuku-kun." She gave him a small wave before turning and heading toward the female dormitories.

Izuku rounded his step and started off in the direction of his room. He meant to go by Katsuki's room, but when he glanced at the time using his boyfriend's device, it was getting too late.

He noticed a line of notification on the lit up screen. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the name of the sender and the subject line:

Re: Consider this new offer.

Izuku had stopped, just inside the men's side of the building. He thought back to what Kaminari had told him before breakfast. He bit his lip as he felt the curiosity build up inside of him. He could guess why Katsuki hadn't told him. He was sure it was because of all the offers Izuku had turned down, just to make sure they would be working in the same city.

But the JH was a good agency, one of the most renowned in northern Japan. But its fame came more from its heroes than anything else. Brute Wall only hired heroes that others seemed unwilling to work with, mostly who others called delinquents and trouble makers. She was known for her own rebellious beginning, and her history gave her a one up on being able to lead such heroes.

It was perfect for Katsuki, so why was he turning it down? He could have at least talked to Izuku about it just like he always brought up his offers.

Izuku was still looking at the phone when he got into his room. He had it on his mind, what would be inside the email. He bit his lip. He sighed.

He shouldn't.

Izuku set the phone down. He would wait. He had to wait. Katsuki should be there to bring it up to him. It was a sore spot that he hadn't told him already, but it wasn't really out of character for Katsuki not to mention it. Especially if he was going to just turn offer down.

He would drop it. He left the phone alone as he went about changing. He pushed it out of his mind as he shrugged off Katsuki's hoodie from his shoulders.

He paused. He sighed.

Then he picked up Katsuki's phone.

::*~~*::

The work day came and went and what felt like forever but still soon, Izuku found himself in his room. He had striped himself of all his clothes and laid on his bed, playing with himself. He just barely got to the mattress before starting.

The last hour of his patrol had been difficult. He didn't know if there was a trigger or if it was just a random upturn of hormones like it had before, but it had hit him hard and fast. It was all he could think of, just getting back and doing... something. Anything. Everything.

Especially if it was with Katsuki.

Izuku had barely made it. There was a good moment he just thought of finding a dark corner and taking care of himself, but was able to stave it off. He was so grateful when the work day was over, and he almost used Full Cowl to help get him back to the dormitories faster.

He didn't even go through the locker room entrance to change; he went straight to his room and undressed there. It would be annoying to move it back later, but he really didn't care.

On his way to his room, he had messaged Katsuki in hopes he was back or would at least come see him once he got there. Something went off in the back of his head, trying to remind him of something, but it wasn't coming through. Only one thing was coming among his haze, and that was the need for relief.

Izuku had left his phone on his night stand, missing the other device as he opened the drawer for his vibrator. The ringer was up just in case Katsuki messaged him. Otherwise, he ignored the rest of the world as he started on himself.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before the fog started to clear. He was out of steam for the moment, needing a break before he could go on. He laid back against his pillows, relaxing, and letting his euphoria wash over him. He still had a ways before real relief, he knew, but it cleansed his mind for the moment.

And in that clarity, he just found himself wanting something else, and badly.

Izuku pulled over his phone, looking it over to see if he had texted during his session. He frowned when he saw nothing after two hours had gone by. He was being needy, he knew, but that's just where was: in need. So, his need in mind, he quickly sent another message to hopefully get to his boyfriend.

He blinked when he heard a chirp seconds after he hit send. He turned toward the sound only lay eyes on the source.

Izuku groaned loudly. He had completely forgotten to give Katsuki back his phone in his rush earlier that morning. So none of his messages would have gotten to him, to know he needed him.

He spent a long moment deciding what to do. He should give it back to him, that seemed obvious. If he did, he could just pull him along back to his room and...

Izuku closed his legs tightly, as if it would drive off the thoughts that were coming. He couldn't start again. If he did, it would be another few hours before he could will himself to find Katsuki. And that would just make no sense when he could just hold off for ten minutes and have him for those hours instead.

After willing his thoughts into submission, he got up from the bed and started to dress. He huffed a few times as he did, knowing he was unnecessarily upset about the whole thing, but he just wanted...

Stop the thought. Take Katsuki his phone and then drag him back. That was what he should be concentrating on, while also keeping it as neutral as possible. No need to think about what will happen when they got back to his room, no need to think about Katsuki's naked body, about what that naked body will be doing to him, or about—

It was getting bad. He needed to find Katsuki, and he needed to find him now.

Izuku left his room, wearing loose pyjamas and holding on Katsuki's phone. He was still battling thoughts, but it was easier to do with his goal in mind.

He tried Katsuki's door first, knocking loudly and calling his name. Nothing. He frowned. He had hoped it would be just this simple, but it seemed he would have to put more effort into it. He turned from the door and headed to the second most-likely place he was: the common room and playing games.

Izuku was only half-way to his new destination when the device in his hand started ringing. It caused him to startle at first, not used to the tone. He looked at the screen to see a familiar name and number. He resumed his approach down the hall as he picked up the call.

"Evening, Bakugou-sa—"

"Izuku? Is that you, dear?" came back the feminine voice.

"Yeah, it's me."

"So good to hear your voice!" Mitsuki sounded cheerful that evening. "How have you been? How is the Tour?"

"I'm fine." Izuku came out into the common area. He started to look around, searching for his boyfriend. "It's been... nice, actually." He was being honest. No matter the strain of the fermin, the Tour still had a lot of good moments.

"I'm glad to hear it," she said. "That stupid boy of mine hasn't told my anything. This is the first time my call has been answered."

Izuku roamed through the kitchens to the gaming room. "Really? I tried to get him to call, but you know..."

"How bull-headed he is?"

"I was going to say stubborn." He laid eyes on him in the sunken living room, surrounded by a number of their friends. "Hold on, think I found him..."

"Give him a knock if he won't take the call," she said.

"I don't think it'll come to that," Izuku said with a laugh.

There was a decent sized group of young men around the television, all excitedly watching the screen and the fighting game on it. When he followed the line across from the television, it led to the two fighters: Kirishima and Kamakiri. They were intense in their concentration, the world seeming to disappear as they handled the controllers. It took a moment but Izuku soon realised the men had separated themselves by classes.

Even this close to graduation, and class 1-A and 1-B were still as competitive as ever.

When he got further into the room, he caught the attention of some of the spectators. Kuroiro was the first to spot him, and he flashed him a wide grin, indicating to the spot on the floor next to him. Izuku smiled back, but shook his head as he pointed to the phone in his hand. Some of the others saw him and nodded. Kaminari waved at him cheerfully, and Katsuki, next to him, followed his line of sight and looked at him, brow raised.

"One second, Mitsuki-kaa-san," he said. "I have to do an extraction mission."

Mitsuki laughed. "If any hero can do it, it's you."

Izuku approached the other side of the large couch, where Katsuki was sitting. Katsuki's eyes followed him as he did, waiting for him to get closer.

When he was only centimetres away, Katsuki mouthed, 'You okay?'

Izuku nodded. It wasn't exactly true, but having Katsuki's mother on the other side of the phone tempered his fermin some.

He got closer, leaning in as he held out the phone. Katsuki blinked and took it, though he still seemed confused by it.

"It's your mother," Izuku said. Katsuki furrowed his brows some and almost looked like he was going to give it back to him. "If you hang up on her, I'll just call her back. On speaker phone."

Katsuki rolled his eyes but still put the phone to his ear. "What do you want, hag?"

Izuku could faintly hear Mitsuki on the other end of the line, but not clearly what she was saying. Katsuki looked a little perturbed, but not really angry. He stood from his seat and started to step away before Izuku caught his free hand. Katsuki looked back at him, brow raised.

"Try not to be too long," Izuku said low, only for Katsuki to hear.

He smirked and nodded before turning and walking away. He was already bickering with his mother as he wandered off into the main hall.

Izuku took his place on the couch and watched the rest of the fight. For a long moment, he was able to forget about the fermin. He stayed for a few more rounds, cheering anyone from their class. They switched players depending on the winner, and at the end of it all, it was Shinsou who won. The entire time, he kept a stoic expression and his mouth closed, leading to his opponent underestimating him.

There was a loud raucous at the end of it all, one that got looks from the male teachers who had been passing by.

Katsuki had not returned by the end of the matches. Izuku had expected him to, not really thinking he'd stay long on the phone. He hadn't seen him and had just made the assumption he was coming back. Maybe he thought Izuku was just heading back to his room? That would be a fair guess.

After a quick chat with some of the other students, Izuku excused himself for the evening. Kuroiro slipped in our offer to go back to his room to play some games, he declined with a smile. His thoughts were starting to creep a certain way again and he wanted to entertain them, with or without his boyfriend.

He wasn't half way to his room when one of the doors opened slowly. He was about to ignore it, knowing whose room it was, but he had to pause when he heard a breath of exclamation.

"Izuku," he was called. "I was actually about to come get you."

Izuku was midstep when he was spoken to. He took a breath and turned, smiling as he faced Todoroki. He wasn't really bothered to see him; he was just distracted by what he would rather be doing.

"Evening, Shouto. What did you need?" They were alone, the only two in the hall. It meant they could drop their formalities. It was a habit they had gotten back when they were spending more time alone, and it just stuck.

"Ah, I thought..." He was standing in the doorway, keeping the threshold open. "Would you like to pick which kimono you'd like to wear for tomorrow?"

"Oh. Yeah." Izuku had almost forgotten about it in his haze. It wouldn't be bad to do, right? He could grab it and go with a rushed excuse. And it would be easier if he already had it so he and the girls could just get right to it.

He stepped inside Todoroki's room, and he shut the door as he followed behind him. He moved to his closet and opened it up to start looking at some of the hangers. Izuku waited patiently, his eyes scanning the room. He had only been in there a few times since the Tour had started, purposely keeping their alone time short. He had been vague about it initially, but Izuku was getting more and more sure of what he was leading up to.

He should talk to him about it. Just let him know it wasn't going to happen. Even without Katsuki, it just wasn't in the cards. He could even bring it up now, couldn't he? If Todoroki said something, he could cut him at the pass? Katsuki had done what he promised; Izuku was free to tell anyone.

And yet, he was finding himself looking forward to their reveal the next night. That would be so much better. It was selfish and a little cowardly, but wasn't it a kinder rejection? No, because I'm dating someone else, not because I'm genuinely uninterested?

"Izuku?"

Izuku shook off the reverie to fully pay attention to Todoroki. He was holding up two kimono, one blue and one red. They had differing patterns, the red with a golden sunrise and the blue with silver snowflakes. Their obi was slung over the shoulder of the garment, both white, but the one with lace patterned gold stitching, and the other with just an embossed like about its swirls.

"I have matching hakama, too," Todoroki said. "Either one should fit; I think we're about the same size now. Well, about..."

Izuku knew what he meant. He had only grown so much, and though he wasn't the shorted of his peers, he was certainly not the tallest. Todoroki and Katsuki both had centimetres on him, but it never really bothered him. He had it where it mattered, in his strength and speed, and that was all he cared about.

"They're both great," Izuku said.

Todoroki beamed at him. "Is there one you'd prefer...?" His tone was leading, and eyes kept glancing to the blue one.

That at least helped the decision.

"I really like the red one," he said. "I love all the gold and it makes me think of..."

Katchan.

Todoroki's smile faltered a fraction, but any disappointment was well hidden.

He handed him the red one and brought him the hakama. Izuku held on to them delicately, making sure nothing touched the floor.

"Thank you again," Izuku said. "I really do appreciate it."

Todoroki nodded. "Of course."

Izuku took steps toward the door, making his intention not to linger clear. Todoroki got the hint and opened the door for him. He took a step just into the hall before looking at him again.

"Well, ah... good night, Shouto," he said in a pleasant voice.

"Yes, goodnight," he responded. It was clear something else was on his mind, the way his lips parted as if to say something else.

He could just turn away, pretend not to notice. He had already said their parting, there was no guilt in just heading to his room.

"You know, for tomorrow..."

"Shouto," Izuku's expression softened, but he wanted to silence this conversation before it would get louder. "Shouto, please..."

"I mean, we could just—"

Todoroki's words got lost in the heavy footsteps coming down the corridor. They both looked up to see Katsuki stomping down the hall, his head down and his mouth set in a grimace. He didn't look up, even as he passed them, and it didn't seem he saw them at all.

Izuku frowned and took a step toward him. "Katchan?"

He was already far down the hall, not having heard him. Izuku's brows raised and he bit his lip. He looked back to Todoroki, muttering, "Excuse me," before he rushed after him. Todoroki said something, but it was lost in his concern for Katsuki.

He followed him to his room, still mindful of the kimono as he hurried toward his door. He didn't even bother to knock, just trying the door. It was unlocked and he let himself inside. He closed and locked the door behind him and looked over the room.

His eyes found him curled up, sitting next to his bed, his arms around his knees and his face buried within. There was a soft murmuring sound, and for a second Izuku thought it must be...

"Katchan," Izuku called. He hung the kimono from the hook behind the door then stepped closer to Katsuki. He sat down in front of him, leaning in hopes of seeing face. He had it well hidden, and didn't even acknowledge his presence. "Katchan."

Katsuki groaned. He tilted his head, running a hand though his hair. He was looking to the side and out his window, his eyes red and tired looking.

"...give me a second."

Izuku nodded. He made himself more comfortable, sitting cross-legged and putting his hands in his lap. His eyes were still on him, but he said nothing, waiting for when he was ready. He wasn't going to push him, he knew better, but he still felt anxious. Katsuki had been in such a better mood the past couple of days; he hated to see it go easily.

But that was how it was. He knew that. And some days, Katsuki remembered that.

"Fuck..." Katsuki was running his hands though his hair as he hung his head again.

"Is... is everything okay?" Izuku ventured. "Is something going—?"

"She has it."

Izuku stilled other than raising a brow. "I'm sorry?"

"Mom," Katsuki said. He looked up, finally meeting Izuku's eyes. "It's... she told me..." He growled and groaned.

"What is it?" Izuku reached out, putting his hand on his knee. "What did she say?"

"She was asking all these things," Katsuki said, his voice irritated. "She just wanted to know, I know, but it was so specific, and I had to ask, and she..."

Izuku squeezed his knee, urging him to continue.

"I should've known, maybe in some way," he went on. "Dad was always saying we're just alike, that I have her temperament. And she's always asking, she always phrases it, 'How's your mood?'"

Izuku's eyes widened before as the realisation sunk in. His expression softened, and he moved, sitting next to him and leaning against his shoulder.

"Did she actually say it?" he asked. "Did she tell you she had bipolar?"

Katsuki nodded. "Then she went off on these stories, talking about when she was my age, about doctors and medicine, and I..." He took in a deep breath. "I just got so fucking angry, I couldn't even hear her at one point."

Izuku took his hand tangled their fingers together. "Angry?"

"She should have told me," he said through gritted teeth. "If she knew, she should have at least bothered to mention it."

"Did you ask her why?"

"She said she was hoping... she was just hoping I was just being an angsty teenager." Katsuki rubbed his temple with his free hand. "But, I mean still..."

"...what would you have done different?" Izuku's voice was soft, but the question was honest.

Katsuki sighed. "I don't know, maybe just... maybe just knowing would've..."

"Katchan is still Katchan," Izuku said. He nuzzled into his shoulder. "He still would've had a hard time, unless..."

"Unless what...?"

Izuku turned to look him in the eyes. "Unless it would have gotten you to go to the doctor," he said. "And maybe even—?"

"Get medicated?" Katsuki's voice took a dangerous drop.

"Katchan, it's not the end of the world."

"But it might be the end of my career."

Izuku blinked. "How?" He couldn't help how incredulous his voice sounded. "If anything, it should make it be—"

"Wind Sheer in America," Katsuki interrupted. "He was fine for years, no one knew, but after he failed to save children from a bus crash, his medication meant nothing. He started hearing them everywhere, everywhere, and when it affected his hero work beyond being functional, his schizophrenia was outed to the public. He was banned from hero work, just in case he had another relapse."

"Katchan, that's not—"

"In Thailand, Sparkin's career ended when his depression was discovered after her partner died," Katsuki went on. He wasn't looking at Izuku anymore, glaring at the floor instead. "They fired her because her suicide attempt was seen as a liability. No one wants a sad hero."

Izuku's eyebrows knitted with concern. Katsuki was crying as he spoke, but he was sure he didn't notice it.

"Despereaux in France had a month-long mania where he never slept. He just kept fighting and fighting, but he was so blinded by it, he didn't realise he was just fighting anyone." He took a breath. "And the depression after, he was out of work for months until they just... let him go.

"Even here in Japan, it doesn't matter that it's technically illegal." Izuku could hear the way his teeth grinded between pauses. "There are a number of heroes who have to hide it, because if they go to a doctor, there's a chance someone will find out. There are some agencies that will fire someone if they find out.

"We're not sick to them, Deku." He looked at him. "We're just liabilities, waiting to happen. Even medicated, we're just one bad day away from losing our minds. At least, to them."

Izuku's eyes were soft, never leaving Katsuki's face. He was visibly shaking, tears streaming down his face. Everything was anger, a righteous anger, but still a sad anger. His head was hung again, his bangs obscuring his face, but he knew. He knew the look on his features, and he was sure he was one of the only people who had seen it.

Katsuki, for all of his flaws, still knew right from wrong. He knew when things were wrong, and he felt fury toward them. That was always who he was. But that fury could be tucked down when it came more to himself. He would fix things on his own; he would righty every injustice in front of him.

But this one could not be so easily corrected. He couldn't punch his way through; he couldn't throw an explosion at it. He had no way to fight it, not that he would let himself do easily.

Fighting meant giving in. Fighting was acknowledging. Fighting was knowing there was no end.

Izuku had no idea the extent of his worry. Katsuki had always made it seem like his lack of ability to fight, to combat it, that was what he was angry about. He had thought a loss of control was his main fear, his argument that it couldn't possibly be true.

That wasn't the only thing he was fighting against, at least not to him. He felt attacked from so many sides, and he had nowhere to go. No way to defend, no offensive actions, just his attackers circling in.

Izuku had only been helping on one side, because it was all he had known, all he had seen. Katsuki may have been opening up more and more, but he was always good at hiding things. His battles were his own, even when he knew there was no reason for them to be.

He had no idea the level of his fears. Katsuki had hidden it. But now it was out there, now Izuku could help, whether that was an intention in his outburst or not.

Katsuki wasn't alone. He was just too stubborn to see it.

Izuku put his arms around him and pulled him closer. Katsuki easily followed his gesture and buried his head in his neck. He felt the moisture from his tears, but he heard nothing of it other than one hiccup. He rubbed his back and murmured softly.

"You're right about being sick..." Izuku put his chin on top of his head. "But not about being a liability. None of you are, people are just..."

Katsuki made a scoffing noise.

"We... we don't have to talk about doctors and medicine right now," Izuku assured him. It was a subject he had tried many times to bring up, but Katsuki deflected every time. It needed to be discussed, but now wasn't the time.

"But... you're strong, Katchan," he said. "Even if it's just from stubbornness. But Katchan is still the toughest person I know." He kissed the top of his head. "And if anyone can get through this, it's you...

"Just not by yourself," Izuku said. "Your mom just thought she was doing right by you. But think of it this way: now you have someone to talk to, someone who knows what you're going through."

Katsuki groaned. Izuku chuckled.

"And me," he said. "I'm here for you."

Katchan muttered something against his neck.

"What was that?"

He shook his head.

"Katchan..." He pulled away a little as he could look him in the eyes. "The world needs you, needs you being a hero."

Katsuki looked up at him through wet eyes. "And when I lose it?"

"We'll get to that when we come to that bridge," he responded. "We'll have lots of ideas and plans, and most of all, we'll get through it." He pressed their foreheads together. "Together."

"You always say that."

"I always mean it."

Katsuki rolled his eyes but smiled lightly. "Together."

Izuku smiled and kissed his nose. Katsuki took in a deep breath, his eyes downcast.

"I'm... I'm sorry..."

Izuku raised a brow. "For what?"

"For just... I shouldn't have gotten so upset..."

"It's okay. You can't always help when you—"

"Swing?"

"It's who you are, Katchan. I don't mind it."

"Even though it's horribly inconvenient?"

"Life is inconvenient," Izuku was quick to correct.

"Don't be so cheesy."

"It's true!"

Katsuki pushed on his shoulder. Izuku laughed and pushed back, to which Katsuki nudged him again. The pushing went back and forth and soon escalated. Izuku pushed a little too hard, and soon he was on top of him.

Despite himself, he was soon kissing him while holding his face. Katsuki's arms were around him, and Izuku's thoughts were wandering. For a moment, he remembered why he had sought him out in the first place, when he was giving him his phone.

Now they were alone, finally, and they could—

"Deku."

Izuku grunted when he was being pulled away. "Katchan—?"

"Not... not right..." He sighed. "Can you hold off or do you—?"

Izuku sighed. He would be lying if he said he was little disappointed, but he knew there was no point if Katsuki was swinging really low.

He nodded. "I can wait."

#katsudeku #bakudeku #bakudeku fanfiction #fermin story #bkdk

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beheadingofmakai · 6 years

Text

“Baller”

Lance “The Monster God” @tainbocuailnge hit me with:

for writing prompts, how about someone drunk bidding on a sword (or other weapon you're the one who knows shit about weapons) on ebay only to find out when it arrives that it is a magic and/or possessed sword that /desperately/ wants to belong to some mythical ancient hero despite it being the good old year of 2018 and if it has to whip its new owner into shape then so be it

So sit back, grab your pop corn, and let Uncle Drimo Beheading tell you the story of an unemployed man who drank a little bit too much and got in a scuffle with a mysterious man with an anime avatar, an event that changed his life.

———

“...And who the shit has an anime avatar on ePay?! You mean this freaking nerd outbid me? Get the hell out, let’s see what other deals he’s in, you’ve crossed the wrong unemployed drunk, shithead.”

The dark room’s sole source of light was the monitor’s light blue hue, reflected on a man’s glasses that sat in front of two tired, drunken, furious eyes.

2:38 AM, three bottles of schrobbeler, twelve cans of stout and a small army of discarded potato chip bags. It was a particularly bitter Friday, now Saturday, for Jan, and what better remedy for the sorrows of modern life than senseless spending? Like syrup finding is way down one’s throat, vigilantly hunting for a cold, the act of burning money seems oddly cathartic. It’s very much just pretending one’s current problems aren’t there by simply creating more trouble for oneself in the future. And sometimes, this future trouble is worth it if one’s splurging involves spiting someone with an anime avatar and a lot of booze. Not really, but it sure as hell seems so during the heat of a bid war.

“You think you’re hot shit, xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx? That I’m gonna let you flaunt your weight around just because you got some disposable income? I’m gonna shit on your sofa!”

Bills are a pain in the ass, aren’t they? Water, light, real estate, food expenses, cab fare... We’re lucky these brutes haven’t found a way to pipe oxygen and charge us for it yet, but it is what it is. And for bills, you need a job, for you kill those with your paycheck. Things were rocky, but stable enough the last few months for Jan Wildemors, but just yesterday, Fate decided to be that unlikable bitch we all hate and that hates us back, and he was laid off. No feedback or reason given, either. He was handed his stuff in a box that was missing a flap, and told to go, thank you for your hard work the last eight months, which is a very polite and corporate way of saying “go choke on a cat-o-nine-tails composed entirely of dildos”.

“Hah! Really regret on screwing me over with that keyboard now, don’t you, jackass?” Jan adjusted his glasses as he proudly asserted his dominance, victory his, not really sure what he just bought, but satisfied with the knowledge that he did. Hooray, unhealthy coping mechanisms! With his objective complete and his body at its limit, Jan went down like a glorious baboon that just missed a branch during its jump, his face smacking his desk as he lost consciousness like an ape plummets down a tree: With a lot of drool and a dull thud.

———

“Now, hold on just a second, let me check one more time with my bank, and--”

“Hey, you bought it, I just deliver it, now please just sign up already, and with all due disrespect, wear some pants next time. The day’s not even begun, and your hairy legs already ruined it. And yesterday too, retroactively.”

As the confused, unemployed man signed the paper on the clipboard (with a lent pen, of course), he was left one on one with the fruit of his idiocy: An ornate box, long and purple, the most expensive thing in the small apartment by far without even accounting for whatever it contained. “Oh man, oh man, I really messed up last night...”. Well! Whatever! It’s here already, so might as well open it! The best part of messing up is when you finally realize there’s no use in crying over spilled! Hooray, unhealthy coping mechanisms!

Inside the long and purple box was nothing other than a longsword, ornate and majestic. It was at this point that our dearest Jan propped a chair close to the window and prepared himself to just fucking throw himself out of it headfirst into the speeding traffic from the fourth floor.

“Welp, that’s that. I went and bought a sword. A sword. I can’t buy anything fancier than instant ramen or soggy lettuce leaves, not even the whole thing, I just got laid off from my job, and the first thing my drunk ass does is buy a sword. No wonder I had no cash when I checked in the morning. Well, alright, I’d like to thank my father for my ethics, my mother for my sense of humor, and neither of them for my savvy with finances, now let’s check out heaven, alley oop!”

“A moment, if you would.”

“Oh, sweet, the delirium is starting to kick in, I can hear voices! I love nervous breakdowns!”

“Face me when I speak to you, boy.”

Jan froze in place. This was the first time the panic voices ever were so untoward. He considered, for just a second, that maybe he truly wasn’t alone in this room, that perhaps, against all odds, that which was inside the box was the one...

“...Yes, it is I that speaks to you, now turn around and face me already, you unruly child.”

In the words of Oscar Wilde himself: “Holy shite”.

“Hold on, what, no one told me swords could speak.”

“And they normally don’t, but I am not a normal sword.”

On top of the chair, wearing only a sleeveless white t-shirt and coffee stained boxers, Jan Wildemors faced the sword in the purple box, a faint silver aura blanketing it, the two staring at each other while Jan comprehended, little by little, that his mundane life was about to end. The faint glow of the morning sun that filtered in through the closed blinds accentuated this scene, the young man’s face stained with lines of bewilderment and amazement.

He then faced the window and tried to throw himself out again.

“H-hey, stop trying to kill yourself for a second and hear me out, will you not!? What kind of reaction is this to the honor of being addressed to by Moonflare itself!”

“Yeah, no thanks! I’m not only unemployed and in debt, now I am being plunged into some magic nonsense that I want no part of! This truly is the end for me!”

“Wait, you’ve no job and you owe money? That’s less than ideal, young one.”

“And now a sword is criticizing my life choices! This sucks!”

“Just hear me out, damn it!”

“Aaaaaa!”

“Baller”

———

“Coffee or juice?”

“I’m a sword.”

“Yeah.”

The young man sat in front of the sword, sipping his coffee, finally wearing pants, the weapon unmoved from the purple box, its faint silver flow still emanating like a candle at the end of a long, dark hallway. A resigned sigh is all the young man could muster, lifting his arms in very real surrender.

“Alright, let’s do this. What’s up?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s up’? First your purchase me and now you wonder what the dickens I am? Where is it that I came from? How could you possibly acquire a Resonant Arm without knowing? Is this some manner of jest?”

“Yeah, look, I’m not going to lie to you, Monsieur Sword, I--”

“Moonflare.”

“Hm?”

“I’m no Monsieur, nor am I a Madame, I am a sword with a name, and that name is Moonflare. Be sure to use it.”

“Yeah, sure. Anyways, so yesterday, I was laid off from my job, so I got real damn drunk, and decided, yeah, Imma buy a gaming keyboard! It’s a sound investment! It’ll improve my morale and help out with my job hunting!”

“Uh huh...”

Jan stretched and sipped from his coffee, making keyboard motions with his free hand. “No, for real, reward yourself, and then be responsible without a regret! It works! Sometimes! Unfortunately, the model I wanted was the last one in stock in ePay, this bidding website for online transactions--”

“You bought me online!?” Moonflare cut in.

“What, that weird?”

“I’m a Resonant Arm! It’s akin to saying someone bought a priceless relic on the internet!”

“Well, about that...” Jan produced his smartphone, tapped it a couple of times, and pointed the screen to the hilt, where he assumed the sword’s “eyes” were. Jan is no sword biologist, so we hope you’ll excuse his beginner’s mistake. “...People kinda buy really expensive things like the Mona Liz--”

“Someone bought the Mona Lizard!?”

“On the internet.”

“Curses!”

“Yeah, so I guess you ended up being sold off online, and whether your previous owner knew about you being a Restaurant Arm or not is anyone’s guess, but the fact is, the keyboard I wanted was ripped from my bloody, splintered fingers by some asshole with an anime avatar that outbid me at the last second. So I got mad and went to outbuy him in something else he was putting money in for.”

“...What for?”

“A foolish and short-lived sense of satisfaction and spite.”

“Marvelous, and that’s how you came to own me.”

“That’s the whole shebang, ya.”

If the sword had eyes, their revolutions per second would create a localized cyclone. It was clear this was a six piece McNobody who just obtained them as a consequence of bad impulse control and good taste in alcohol.

“...Well then,” Moonflare finally let out, as if forcing words out of its sword throat. “You know, at least you’re honest. Well, this might just be what you need.”

Jan’s eyebrow raised inquisitively. “...What do you mean?”

“This could be destiny at play, young man. No job, crippling debt, the end of the road, that’s what life is for you right now. And at the moment of most need, when you see the horizon as a guillotine encroaching on your throat with each passing day, cooped up in this cell that no doubt will be subjected to embargo, you come across me, Moonflare the Pilgrimbreaker, Resonant Arm... No doubt you see where this is going, right?”

“What are you suggesting...?” Jan inquired, his interest thoroughly piqued.

“You can be a Hero. I can make you a Hero. One worthy of wielding the real me. Look around you, you know you want this. Say, what’s that poster over there, above the couch?”

Jan looked to where the sword had verbally pointed and found his old Funny Fantasy VII poster, with its protagonist boldly wielding his weapon in an action pose.

“It’s my Funny Fantasy VII Collector’s Edition poster. It’s my favorite game ever.”

“And who is that brazen, courageous man showcased oh so prominently in the forefront?”

“That’s Clown Strife! A failed JESTER who didn’t have it in him to make it big in the ranks of the CIR.cus organization! After taking to wandering as a mercenary, his freelancing eventually landed him smack in the middle of a huge, world-class incident!”

“Poetic, is it not? You’ve just been released from your own job, you’re swamped in debt, and nothing seems to be going right... And that’s when we cross roads. It’s not only that you don’t really have a choice, this is the right choice. We’ll make it big.”

For the first time in years, Jan’s eyes shone with a fire they had long forgotten. Hopping from job after job, doing shit he didn’t wanna do, forcing smiles for nasty bosses who didn’t give a damn about him... It could all be over. It could all remain in the past, were he to become a Hero.

“I’ll do it.” he said, resolution dripping from his voice and fire emanating from his eyes like a faulty smelter. “Let’s do this!”

———

“Let’s not do this!”

“Quit whining and give me ten more laps!”

“Stop giving me more laps!”

“Then stop whining, cur!”

It’s been a week of this tragedy. Day after day, night after night, the sword and man duo engaged in this pitiful play. Moonflare, the sharpest drill sergeant in town, attacked the would-be Hero with arduous routine after routine, if one could call “20 hours straight of morbidly harsh training” a routine, by any stretch. When he was finally done doing suspended midair push-ups with a tire, Moonflare gave the signal (which is a disappointed sigh, by the way), and Jan finally came down.

“You’ve got the physical condition, Jan, you are fit and can move well, but you don’t take pressure well.” the sword chided. “How are we going to achieve fame like this?”

“...”

This silent reply didn’t go unnoticed.

“Is there something that’s bothering you, young one?”

“Yes, actually. You keep mentioning ‘fame’. We need to be the best to cause an impression this, we need to be at our peak condition that, you seem really obsessed with fame. Isn’t a Hero’s role to save people in the first place?”

But now, the silence came from the sword.

“...Hey, I’ve put up with this for a week, you could at least tell me what a Restaurant Arm is already in addition to answering to what I just said. I’m breaking my back, almost literally, here.”

“You make a good point.” the sword replied with what almost was a sigh. “A Resonant Arm, and please get ‘Resonant’ right already, is a weapon crafted with a fragment of a powerful weapon of legend. In this body, I am powerful sword with capabilities far beyond regular weapons, yet, I’m still a shade of my true potential. It’s because only a shard of my original body is in this shell.”

“Oh! So wait, you’re not just some delirium or haunted sword with delusions of grandeur?”

“I ought to pierce a lung of yours for that statement, hmph! Indeed, I am not a figment of your desperate psyche, I am indeed THE Moonflare, the Pilgrimbreaker, the Discipliner, the...”

Jan scratched his head as he drank some water as Moonflare went on and on with his titles before he interjected. “I’ve never heard of you.”

That window shattering in the distance? That’s Moonflare’s confidence you just heard. “...Yeah, that’s the problem.”

“Hm?”

“...I am a legendary weapon, but I am unsung, because my previous master didn’t care for fame in the slightest.”

Jan simply looked at the sword, as if telling it to go on.

“...Centuries ago, I belonged to The Pilgrimbreaker, a very unknown Hero. There’s no records of her real name, for she refused to announce it, there’s no records of her face, for she always wore a helmet that shrouded it, and there’s no records of where she went to after the Mana Turbulence, for she disappeared without saying a word after all was said and done. Just a few souls in this world know about her, hence why I’m an unsung legendary weapon.”

“Huh... I was thinking she was small time, but the Mana Turbulence was a big deal way back in the day, wasn’t it? Was she weak compared to the other Heroes or something?”

“Nonsense!” Moonflare suddenly raised its voice in stark contrast to its usual calm bearing. “Pilgrimbreaker was the real deal! I never could see eye to eye with her, but I will never tolerate illspeak of her!”

“W-woah!”

“Her form was perfect, her mind impenetrable, her defense unbreakable and her aggression irresistible! She struck fear in whoever was in the wrong side of her blade! Do you know where she got the moniker of Pilgrimbreaker, boy!?”

“Moonflare, calm down, I didn’t mean to--”

“She singlehandedly infiltrated the dread cavern where the Pilgrims Of Brozarok held the Ritual Of Turbulence, which would’ve torn the world’s apart thrice had it been completed, and killed every last one of the wicked dastards! Her arm swished left and right, which each move an impact responding, each swipe a life taking, over and over, dodging curses and enduring maladies! She fought for an entire two days, killing every single Pilgrim in the cavern. By the time four hours had passed, I had gone dull from the sheer and excessive amount of cleaving, and yet, she relented not! With myself as a blunt hunk of moonsteel, she kept going, going, and going! What once were slashes now were blunt strikes, but her sheer strength would break them apart all the same! By the forty eighth hour, when she had broken every Pilgrim and stopped the Ritual, her own sword arm lay shattered and her muscles swollen. She saved the world! She saved us all...”

“...But she’s not famous, not unlike the other Heroes whose names are now in history books, huh?”

Today, Jan learned that swords could indeed cry. “Indeed... The other Heroes actually acknowledged and respected her. Some admired her! They worked together many times, and they were all equally instrumental in stopping the Turbulence. However, she always insisted in others not singing her praises. She foolishly refused to reveal face or name, and eventually, history forgot her.”

“...I guess that explains why you were sold as an antique at best online. No one knows the true of your previous Master, and thus, of your deeds.”

“...Yes. I suppose that makes sense.”

“So I guess your true body, that is, the true Moonflare is elsewhere, if only a fragment is built in you?” Jan inquired, going back to that topic not only because of his genuine curiosity, but also to change the topic, as it clearly was a sensitive topic for Moonflare.

“Yes and no. The ‘true’ Moonflare would imply I’m a fake one. I am indeed Moonflare, just, not in my true body. This blade was forged with a fragment found in the cavern where the Pilgrims met their end. As thus, I have consciousness in this ‘body’. Resonant Arms are called a such because they resonate with their true bodies, and can thus direct their owners to the real legendary weapons. Since it’s my body, I know where it is -- where I am.”

Jan’s eyes shot wide open and he choked on water. “Pwaah! H-hold on, if we can go get your real body, then why haven’t we done that?! We’ve just been wasting time for a week!”

“It’s not that easy. I need to make sure you are worthy. Not anyone can handle a legendary weapon, and you need to show me your physical and mental aptitude. That’s why, today, we’ll have a little test.”

“What? What’s this test? If you make me run more laps, I swear to Aunt Jemima I’ll--”

“We’ll go and do heroic deeds! The streets are dangerous at night, no? We’ll go and stop a crime! Then, I shall judge you!”

“Oh!”

It was finally time. After a whole week of this tiresome nonsense, of pushing his body to the utter limit, of ragging his muscles to shreds, it was finally time to engage in the whole Heroing dealio! And Jan, our strapping would-be Hero, simply couldn’t wait.

———

The streets of the city aren’t exactly what you’d call safe. In fact, they are not what you’d call “oh they are alright as long as you stay in the main streets and by the light”, either. Every back alley you see is a brave new world of armed robbery and assault, with your neck and wallet ripe for the taking. The ideal place to truly thrive as the scum of society and get your doctorate in banditry. Why, just now, a helpless office worker, on her way back from overtime, has found herself tangled in an interesting business proposition between herself and a switchblade pressed against her neck. The switchblade’s companion, a rather forceful fellow with an iron grip and a neck covered in veins, currently yells at her politely, suggesting she voluntarily makes a generous donation to his wallet. How beautiful they are, the streets of this city, rife with opportunity and bankrupted in morals and safety.

Little did the streets know that a brand new market element was about to change their business dynamic.

“Hold it right there, fiend!”

The sudden voice blindsided the mugger not from behind, but from above. As his neck craned to see just who in the world would dare interrupt such an important business meeting, he soon found his answer: It was the man wielding a longsword that currently plummeted towards him.

“The fu--!” The mugger moved out of the way in time to avoid feasting on boots, finally finding himself face to face with the vigilante. The lady that was being mugged couldn’t help but stare in disbelief at the cloaked figure of justice, its silver blade glimmering under the moonlight with unnatural fervor. The billowing cape and the small domino mask made it abundantly clear that this was no mere civilian, this was a vigilante who meant business.

“R-repent now, wrongdoer! Surrender yourself peacefully, and you may yet know mercy!”

“Oi! What’s wrong! Don’t stutter your lines!” Moonflare whispered.

“H-how do you expect me not to!? These lines are so cheesy and stupid...! J-just let me handle the script, yeah?”

“Absolutely not! Who is the seasoned legendary weapon here? If I may be so bold, I believe I know more about this whole Hero business than you do! Just follow my lead and we’ll rake in the fame I de-- we deserve! Now shush!”

With a sigh, Jan simply surrendered and went along with it, dramatically pointing the sword towards his foe. “Hark! Release the dame or taste the righteous fury of the Pilgrimbreaker, miscreant! Know that I shan’t stay my hand a second longer!”

“...pfff...”

A small chuckle finally interrupted the monologue of the would-be Hero. It wasn’t the mugger that let it out, however, it was the victim.

“pppfff... I-I’m sorry, but wow, you are extremely lame. A domino mask? Cape? Really? What C-list telenovela did you jump out from? Shouldn’t you be looking for your missing baby? Maybe slashing ‘Z’s on walls like a loser? Please do me a favor and let me get robbed, it’d be far more dignified than letting you save me, Costume Party.” the lady mercilessly commented, performing Herculean efforts to contain her laughter.

“Shit, I know, right? Who goes, ppfppfffffff, who goes all ‘reepehnt villuns!’ anymore? Did your mom slam dunk you when you were a child, guy? Cloak and mask over sweatpants and a sleeveless wife beater with coffee stains? Really?” the robber added, shaking his head.

“A full outfit is expen--”

“Then don’t wear any at all, idiot! You only look like an overgrown manchild going out trick or treating! You really looked at yourself in the mirror and thought, ‘yeah, this is cool, I look like justice itself, I’ll drown in pussy!’?” the supposed victim harshly mocked, her laughter now out of control.

“Pffff, yeah right, this guy couldn’t score in brothel. His birth certificate is an apology note from the condom factory. Imagine being this asshole’s mom!”

“Oh, fuck off! Someone carried this thing for nine months! Imagine looking at this dude’s FateBook and seeing him posting pics of his outfit, like, ‘Yeah! Ready to fight crime! #Herointhemaking’, and then thinking, yeah, I did this, I made this, I was irritable and in pain for 9 months so I could bring this specimen to the world. At that point, I rip my ovaries out with my own hands and play ping pong with them.” she mercilessly chided.

“Bwaaahahahaha! Hey, you are really funny, and pretty cute, now that I look at you.” observed the criminal, apparently taken with her, now that he could see her better, out of the darkest reaches of the back alley.

“You are not bad yourself... I like a man that can handle a knife. Say, are you free right now? I’d like to unwind after work. We had a meeting today and my bitch of a supervisor, who happens to be why I drink, was on one of those moods today.”

“I’m down for that. I know a really good place here, they have craft beer really cheap, since they make it themselves, and the steak is to die for. Let’s leave Captain Virgin behind and get started!”

The mugger and the victim looked at each others’ eyes with just an inkling of passion for a few seconds before walking away, arm in arm, leaving behind our would-be Hero, the night young and ripe for their taking. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship that would steer the young man towards rehabilitation and for him to abandon the ways of the petty street criminal, working long and hard for his doctorate in electrical engineering, a career he dropped out of, with the loving support of his girlfriend, whose own lifestyle greatly improved thanks to his good domestic skills and the encouraging fire of his pep talks. Together, they had three children (two of them twins) and lived a happy, humor filled life, growing old together, hand in hand.

Anyways, back to the present, where Jan’s self-esteem was shattered into so many pieces that you couldn’t even vacuum clean them.

“...What did just happen...?” Moonflare inquired, confused, no scratching his sword chin with the sword hand it didn’t have.

“C-crime successfully prevented! A-all part of the plan!”

“Are you crying?”

“Of joy!”

“Are you also trembling of joy?”

“Y-yup!”

“...In your parlance, this ‘sucked’, didn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“I really don’t know what to say, Jan. This is the first time I see an attempt at crimestopping end up in matchmaking. You might be cut out to be a Cupid more than a Hero, perhaps. Well, no matter, let’s try with the next--”

“Oh no no, look here, we’re not doing this again.” the would-be Hero vehemently declared, ripping his tiny domino mask off and throwing it in a nearby trash can. “No way. This sucks. Your way sucks. I’m absolutely not doing this your way. Look, we’re doing this my way, or it’s the highway for you.”

“Fool, I’ve got more experience, you must listen to me, and then we’ll be famous!” argued Moonflare, its silver glow intensifying as if to show irritation.

“You’ve no legs, so the highway means I’ll dunk you into the nearest river and call it a day. Now, you listen to me and you better listen well, Moonflare.” Jan’s voice finally hardened up, much like his grip on Moonflare’s hilt. “I’m neck-deep in debt, out of a job, stuck with a stupid sword that talks like a shitty Shakespearian secondary character, humiliated and ready to go and throw myself off that window, just like I should have. You either take me to your real body right now, or I’ll really make sure no one can find you. I’ll take a damn loan for a shovel and some scubba gear, dipshit. I’ll bury you at the bottom of a river or a lake, and no one will know.”

“Jan, please wait, you are clearly making a hasty decision here, your body and mind are not ready for the brunt of a legendary weapon, just follow my lead and--”

“And keep playing Cupid to victims and their would be assailants? Fuck off and fuck you. You’ve three seconds to start leading the way.”

Seeing as there was no convincing Jan, Moonflare finally complied, giving in to the demands of Captain Vir-- Jan.

———

Marble tiles, ivory pillars, and a massive sanctum lit only by mysterious floating gems that shone a dim blue. This was the Sanctum Of Moonflare, hidden deep within the underground, a place impossible to reach unless you know of it, as the path to it will capriciously twist and curve to kick you out if you don’t, leading you back to the entrance, no doubt all part of the arcane architecture that the gnomes who built this place are known for. Only Heroes, or those with the aptitude to become one, could reach this place.

“Well, it’s awfully convenient that this was located under the sewers of my city. What are the odds?”. Jan wore his trademark sleeveless white t-shirt and black sweatpants, without the silly cape and mask, of course. The majestic room clearly had gotten his attention, his eyes scanning the place thoroughly with child-like admiration, whistling at the intricate handiwork of the engravings in the ivory pillars that held the place together. “Sure looks like a place where you’d find a legend!”

“Odds had nothing to do with it.” curtly replied Moonflare. “We are no longer underneath your city. We are far, far away, in another country, actually.”

“Oh, quit it. We just went down a manhole, don’t try to embellish your shitty tale more than you need to.”

“I speak the truth, cur. This place is not subject to the physics and logic of the world. All Sanctums that hold a legendary weapon are hidden away in places that would be impossible to reach physically, and instead, one must know of the place and fulfill a certain number of rules in order to reach them. My Sanctum, as an unsung weapon, hasn’t difficult rules, as you can see.”

“I assume they are something like ‘knowing about the place’, ‘travelling underground while intending to reach it’, and ‘carrying a fragment of Moonflare’?”

The sword didn’t respond for a few seconds. “...That’s spot on, actually. Those are the three rules. How did you...?”

“Intuition. Places like this turn up in games and novels a lot. Perhaps they were inspired by the real tales of old Heroes in the first place, with no one knowing any better.”

“...The era of mass information is terrifying.” the sword lamented, still not used to the 21st century.

In the center of the massive Sanctum, a staircase led to an altar where a protrusion with a sword planted in it could be seen. As the duo approached the gorgeous marble staircase, the engravings of the ivory altar, which turned out to be runes, glowed with the same dim blue at the crystals that floated aimlessly, resonating with the fragment in the incomplete Moonflare, the structure making a noise that was simultaneously organic and mechanical.

“Well, it’s ready. Try and fail so we can get out of here.”

“...So, you are a sword in a stone that only the worthy can pull out, huh?”

“Good, seems you’re familiar with the concept. Saves me having to explain it to you. This is what I meant when I said you were not ready. Now, give it your futile go so we can go back and apply ourselves to accruing fame.”

As Jan’s hand approached the indigo hilt of the true Moonflare, just inches away before he could grip it, Jan and Moonflare were interrupted by a slow clap behind them.

“Bravo! You actually made it here. My compliments! Now, would you please turn around and face me, you thief? I’d so love to see your face.”

Surprised by the sudden personage, the duo turned around to see a man dressed in an exquisite purple suit, two long and curved blades hanging on his hips, one on each side. “What do you mean, ‘thief’? I ain’t taken a thing from you.”

“I disagree, you lout. That sword you insolently grip right now should have been mine to begin with.” he replied, his footsteps echoing in the ample hall as he approached Jan.

“Hold on... xX_KimikoFucker456_Xx!? Is that you!?”

“Kisser! xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx! Get it right!”

“So it is you, the weeb from ePay that outbid my keyboard! You asshole, I should’ve guessed only someone with an username like that would wear a tacky purple suit and carry two... Ppfff.... Two katanas! My goodness, you really are a disaster! Where’s your fedora? Shouldn’t you be at home complaining about the fairer sex?”

“These are tachi, you ignorant, insolent nobody! And the plural of ‘katana’ is ‘katana’, which you’d know if you knew anything about weaponry. You’ve got a lot of nerve to outbuy me for a Resonant Arm, but... I wager you had no clue it was one, am I wrong?”

“Oh, please, of course I kn--”

“He had no idea and everything you say is correct”

“Moonflare, shut up, the people with opposable thumbs are talking right now!”

“You’re telling me this is all because you were mad that I outbid you for a gaming keyboard? You went a got in a bidding war with me for a legendary weapon just because you couldn’t accept that someone took a blasted keyboard from you?”

“Ye.”

“Incredible.”

“Indeed, I said the same.”

xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx sighed and simply took a stance, his hand on the left tachi’s hilt. “...My name is Clement Marmaduke Solaris, and I challenge you to a duel for the Moonflare that you currently hold. In the impossible case that you defeat me, I shall gracefully relent and admit defeat, pursuing you nevermore.”

“Hey, quick question.” Jan shot at Clement as he readied his blade in a stance unlike anything Moonflare taught him during the hellish training week. “Does everyone involved with legendary weaponry and Heroes and all this jimjam talk like a loser nerd? Is it part of, like, a contract? Why do none of you speak like a fucking real person? Is it too hard to not be immediately unlikable as soon as you open your mouth?”

“...Do you accept my duel?”

“On one condition. If I win, you gotta give me the keyboard.”

“You’re still going on about that, Jan!?” the sword chastised, but Clement simply laughed.

“Very well. If I win, I get Moonflare, and if you win, you get the Palanquin Corsair K195 RGB Platinum Gaming Keyboard.”

With a nod, both men agreed to the terms of the duel, and not ten seconds passed before they were at it, the two clashing as the altar with the true Moonflare served as their judge. Eschewing all of the sword’s antiquated teachings, Jan’s fighting style was far more fluid and natural than the proper sword technique Moonflare would rather he used, involving tumbling on the ground and spinning, launching unpredictable slashes and thrusts from every direction and angle.

“Jan! What in the world is this!”

“Breakdancing! I do this a lot, hence why I was in shape before your training. Your formal style is too stiff and old, this suits me better!”

“We’ll never be famous with a silly style like this! Just use the proper style of Pilgrimbreaker, and--”

“Fame, fame, fame! It’s all you talk about! Put a sock on it, already! I don’t give a fuck!”

But just because he was doing much better didn’t mean he had the advantage. Clement’s technique was equally unorthodox, drawing his blade with lightning speed and re-sheathing it, shooting out attacks with immense force as he attacked and defended at the same time.

“Impressive, Jan. I didn’t think you’d last a second against my Iaijutsu.”

“Just like a weeb to use freakin’ Iai... But I hate to admit that you are really good at it.”

“Oh, you flatter me, but you’d seen nothing!”

Jan spun and flipped in the air to attack Clement with a smashing overhead, but the man in the suit, with practiced mastery and a cool head, blocked the attack using his tachi’s pommel, paralyzing Jan with the impact, and subsequently launching him across the room with a powerful sheath thrust to the gut, saliva and tears shooting from Jan’s face.

“Phwoo! Sh-shit... He’s really good...” Jan struggled to say as he cough and barely managed to get back on his wobbly feet, the air knocked out of him. “...He may be a loser, but he’s a strong one...!”

“Cease this child’s play and use the style I taught you already, Jan!”

“I’m afraid there’s no need to. I’m done playing.” Clement approached the duo, none the worse for wear, the pressure around him increasing tenfold compared to what it was before. He was clearly holding back, but playtime was over. “You are a disappointment, Jan. I held back to see if you truly had what it takes, but you don’t even clear the minimum requirement. That Moonflare and you are opposites, and thus, without ever agreeing on what your purpose should be, nay, in how you should even move, you’ll never unleash its true potential. Ready yourself.” Without letting go of the hilt on his left hip, Clement’s left hand now reached for the hilt on his right hip.

“...Wait, no way, are you really gonna--!”

“Hwaa!”

He was less a man and more a raging storm. With speed that defies comprehension, Clement’s attacks doubled in both velocity and quantity, employing iai strikes with both swords at the same time. If the flurry of one such blade was already difficult to keep up with, defending against this storm of steel was impossible. The sheer impact and velocity of the bladed tempest lifted Jan off the floor, silver and blood dancing around his helpless frame as his clothes were ragged to tatters, his mangled body landing square on the altar, next to Moonflare.

“H...Holy shit... I can’t fight that...”

The footsteps approached him. “Indeed, you can’t. Now, surrender the sword. You can’t keep going.”

There simply was no way for Jan to win. With a pained sigh and a bloody cough, he mustered the strength to extend Moonflare towards the Iai master. “Yeah, it makes sense for you to have it... You’ll make a better Hero than me in every way...”

“Hero...? What are you talking about?”

Jan twitched, confusion tinging his face. “Huh? Don’t you want Moonflare to become a Hero?” The statement was apparently a devastating joke, for Clement could barely contain his laughter.

“Of course not, silly. I just want Moonflare in my collection! I’m a collector of weapons who travels all across the world finding different antiques and relics, but alas, I’ve grown tired of simple mundane masterpieces. I’ve set my eyes, thus, on legendary weapons, and with Moonflare as my first, my collection will reach the next level.”

“Hark!” Moonflare interrupted, shining a furious silver. “I’m no ornament! I refuse to gather dust in your vault when there’s heroic deeds to be performed! You can simply commission a replica if you must! You have a fragment of me, as well, don’t you? You wouldn’t be able to come here otherwise.”

“Hah! Indeed, a fragment, albeit one too small to even house your consciousness. I’ve waited here for little over a week for you to show up. A weapon ought to obey, for without an owner, you are nothing. Simply sit tight in my basement as the crown jewel of my collection, O mighty Pilgrimbreaker, and cease your yapping?”

“...Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Blood oozing from his wounds, muscles tearing from the exertion and damage, Jan stood up, a new fire in his eyes. “You know, I was ok with losing to you. Moonflare’s a dick, but it’s a strong sword. If it was in the hands of a capable swordsman, no doubt it could mete out some ridiculous amounts of justice, enough to clean up the streets easily! I was ok with that Hero not being me! But you...”

“Jan...?” “Oh?”

Jan pointed at Clement. “You are no Hero! You’re just a selfish little cunt who wants to feel good by filling his basement with shiny things! I’ll never give Moonflare, the Pilgrimbreaker to you! Not such a storied blade with a bright future in front of it!”

“Hah!” Clement could only laugh. “And how, I wonder and ponder, do you expect to make good on that? You are no match for me. Will you seriously throw yourself to the grinder for these ideals? Heroes are a thing of the past, and should remain so! They have no place in the modern world!”

“Oh, fuck you. Moonflare! I finally understand Pilgrimbreaker.”

“What do you mean...?”

Jan simply took a deep breath and approached the sword stuck in the stone of the altar. “Pilgrimbreaker was a real Hero precisely because she didn’t give a damn about fame. You only held her back, but she still managed to save the world.”

“What!”

“You’re obsessed with fame. You just want the glory of other weapons and their Heroes, and I kinda do feel for you, but that’s not what Heroism is about. You know what my job was before I got fired? I was an insurance agent. I got fired because I kept giving people benefits. Insurance is supposed to be there for when tragedy strikes.”

“...” “Oh...?”

“When you have a car accident, when your parents die, when you get sick with a complex illness, insurance is supposed to cover for you. But my boss kept insisting that we find ways to screw our clients over, to bring up the small letter of a contract and fuck ‘em over! I ignored it, gave our clients our support, and that meant loses for the big wigs on top, loses they recouped by kicking me out. I thought I could make the world a better place, yet, it was another dumb pyramid scheme, the insurance game. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of all this shit!”

Jan grabbed the sword’s hilt. “Moonflare! Pilgrimbreaker was the same! Heroes are all about public image, but she kept fighting as silently and anonymously as she could! Fame didn’t cross her mind! She wanted to make a difference! I admire her, I didn’t know about her until this week, but I wholeheartedly admire her! You should be ashamed of disrespecting her style and respecting only her strength!”

“Jan, I...”

The silver glow of the blade turned gold, and strength seeped into Jan’s body. The golden glow of affinity, achieved only when user and weapon are one mind and one soul, shone brightly from both sword and man, Jan’s words striking chords Moonflare didn’t even know about.

“...Interesting. Still, you won’t be able to draw that sword. A little bit of determination isn’t enough to change the world, which is exactly the kind of power that Moonflare requires to be drawn.”

“Bite me, nerd. Moonflare! Your methods are old, but your power is real! What you need to become a Hero in the modern day is to be a baller!”

“A... A what?”

“Baller! One who can do, no, who does what needs to be done. One who can make a difference, and makes the difference! Not one with the potential, but one with the intent! If we are to change this cynic piece of shit world, you need more than tradition! You need innovation! And with this innovation, we’ll pull out your body!”

“Jan, that’s fine and all, but it’s not how it works! But...” The sword’s golden aura intensified. “Whatever! We’re doing this your way! Let’s do this!”

Jan gripped the true Moonflare with all of his might and pulled, pulled, and pulled. Even the massive power boost from synchronizing with Moonflare didn’t seem to be enough. “W-we can’t do it...! You don’t have the power to change the world just yet, it’s nothing one can achieve overnight! That’s why I didn’t want to bring you here!”

“I don’t have the power to change the world...”

The altar rumbled.

“I don’t have the wisdom, either... The tradition... The pedigree...”

Cracks began to form on the floor surrounding the altar.

“But I have the heart! And there’s no way I’m surrendering you to an egoist jackass like this! I don’t have the power to change the world, but I sure as hell have it to draw one stupid sword--!”

The floor quaked wildly.

“--And start with the small things, like the streets! I don’t have the power to change the world, but that won’t stop me from trying!”

With a sound as loud as an explosion, rocks flew everywhere and a wall of dust obscured Clement’s vision as Jan let out one final scream. When the dust finally settled some, Clement couldn’t believe his eyes. In front of him, Jan stood boldly, the True Moonflare resting atop his shoulder... Still embedded to the rock and the altar, which he simply carried as if it was nothing.

“Y-you what!? You just ripped the altar off the ground?!”

“I got no time for these dumbass traditions and tests of worthiness you losers like so much! This sword is rotting away down here when it could be saving lives and making the world a better place! If I have to take it with stone and altar and all, so be it! I like clubs better than swords, anyways!”

“This is unprecedented...! No one ever ripped the whole altar along with the sword! You technically didn’t draw me, but at the same time, you practically did! Is this the modernity you speak of?”

“Damn right! I’ll drag the entirety of the Sanctum if I need to. A little altar stuck to the sword is nothing! Now, Clement... Clench your teeth.”

“You dastard...! Hand over Moonflare!”

“Take it from me, bitch!”

Clement once again turned into a cyclone of steel, his infinite slashes approaching Jan faster than a ballistic satellite could catch, but Jan stood calm, took a deep breath in, and swung the altar-sword forward, like a baseball bat, with all of his might. The holy altar clashed with the furious steel, and the steel shattered into pieces. Behind the steel was the arm that held it, and the arm, too, was shattered into pieces, mere bone unable to withstand the impact of a ton of ivory and righteous Heroism. Behind the arm that held the steel was a body, and the body was, too, shattered into pieces, the single deft swing enough to incapacitate Clement easily, his mangled body rolling away from the sheer force of the impact, a few lucky bones in his body unbroken.

“W...Wha...? H-how...?”

“The thing is, Clement, you ain’t a baller. You are simply a selfish rich boy who looked at people’s hope and saw an ornament for his wall. You could never swing this blade meant to serve the people. You ain’t shit, Clement.”

———

“Hey, we’re on the newspaper again!”

“...Is it another collateral damage report?”

“...Y-yup...”

The sword sighed.

“We sure are stopping crime and accruing fame, just, not the kind of fame I wanted...”

“Hey! We’re saving people! What if a few cars or buildings get smashed in the process? I-It stimulates the economy!”

“Maybe if you were more careful when swinging me! I have a whole boulder-like altar stuck to my body!”

“Ok, ok, mom, chill. Let’s just go home now. We keep at it like this, and crime’s a-gone in a few weeks. No one wants to risk being clobbered by an altar, after all.”

The duo jumped from rooftop to rooftop, Jan lugging the massive altar casually atop of his shoulder still, less sword and more comically oversized hammer.

“You just wanna keep gaming with that new keyboard, don’t you? I swear... You should be training to be able to draw me properly!”

“You can’t rush Heroism, Moonflare! As long as we keep being ballers, we’ll get there eventually!”

“...Heh, you’re right, Jan. Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

What is a Hero? A beacon of hope for the people? Or someone who acts for their safety in the shadows? Both are valid definitions, and many more kinds of Heroes exist, too. There’s some that are Heroes due to their lineage, while others are self-made, defying expectation and rising to greatness, all that truly matters is that you seek greatness for yourself and others, regardless of how you go about it. Some prefer the bombastic splendor of the spotlight, while others feel comfy in the shadows, but as long as you are excellent to one another and keep going and going, no doubt you’ll become a Hero in your own way, be that sticking to old tradition or carving your own path.

For Jan and Moonflare, the path to being a Hero is to be Ballers.

“...But really, stop causing collateral damage, your debt is only getting worse, you idiot.”

“Oh, shut the hell up.”

...Even if it’s expensive sometimes.

End.

#code:prompt #format:one off #length:short #tainbocuailnge #you sent me a real homerun lance

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cpdevos · 3 years

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5/22/21: Loving My Enemy? Gross >:{

Hi everyone!

Happy Saturday, hope that you are all enjoying this great weather and have some very exciting summer plans for the coming months, now that (hopefully) everyone’s getting vaccinated!

So yesterday I was applying to some scholarships, which required me to find a Computer Science professor who could “comment on the quality of academic work”, and I was in a pickle. If you don’t know, the class sizes for Computer Science at my college are around 100-200 students, and the professors usually don’t know who you are unless you sit in the front row and constantly answer questions, or always go to their office hours. Unfortunately, I did not do any of these things, and online classes had only exacerbated this problem further. So, in the end, I just emailed some of my professors, hoping at least one would agree to be a reference for a student they had never met.

One professor responded very rudely to my email request, and I was livid. So I sent a very passive aggressive email in response, making sure to keep it all wrapped up under a fake layer of politeness. It made me feel better at the thought of me making him as angry as he made me.

Now stop.

Was I justified in doing this?

It’s funny, because the response I get varies from person to person. Most of my non-Christian friends would say, “Yeah, he deserved it for being a rude prick.” But many of you may be thinking, “That wasn’t very Christian of you Joanna. Why aren’t you showing patience and forgiveness to this professor?” And probably we were all thinking of what Jesus says:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. . . If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?” (Matthew 5:43-46)

The Bible is filled with stories of mercy and forgiveness. David chooses not to take Saul’s life when Saul is hunting him down. Esau and Jacob reconcile years after Jacob steals Esau’s blessing. And of course Jesus forgave all of us of our sins, which nailed him to the cross. Whenever I read of these unbelievable acts of grace and mercy, and then look at my life, where I am constantly plagued with bouts of petty annoyances, I feel a bit ashamed and a little disheartened. The people in the Bible seem to give up their beef too easily, as if it was not a big deal at all. The best example of this I can think of is the story of Joseph.

For anyone who hasn’t read the story of Joseph, I would encourage you to read it in Genesis 37-50 before reading the rest of this devo, just so you know what’s going on and because I’m going to spoil the ending.

The basic gist of the story is Joseph’s ten older brothers hate him and sell him off as a slave to Egypt. But then through God’s plan, Joseph ends up becoming the second most powerful man in Egypt. A famine occurs throughout the land and Joseph runs into his brothers again when they come to Egypt to buy grain. At first, Joseph pretends he doesn't know them and accuses them of being spies. Then he puts them to the test, hiding a silver cup in his brother Benjamin’s sack and accusing Benjamin of theft, demanding that Benjamin become his slave. Judah then steps forward, volunteering to take Benjamin’s place and -- HOORAY HOORAY, Joseph reveals himself and all is fine and dandy. They’re all one happy family and Joseph even says to them,

“Do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you” (Genesis 45:5)

I read somewhere that Joseph is one of the people in the Bible where nothing bad is mentioned about him. So, a common interpretation of Joseph’s reunion with his brothers is that he had already forgiven them when he saw them. He was just testing them to see if they had changed, and when the brothers passed the test with flying colors, Joseph then revealed himself, with no hard feelings at all.

Rereading the story of Joseph, I found it hard to believe that Joseph could forgive his brothers so easily for what they did. Yes it had been more than a decade since he had been sold into slavery, but just imagine if you were in his shoes. Just imagine one night, your siblings try to murder you. MURDER YOU. But then they decide that it pays better if they sold you off as a slave instead. That would’ve hurt, wouldn’t it? Just the thought that your family wants you dead, sells you off without a second thought, not caring if you would die being abused as the slave of some house.

Look at it from this light. What would have happened if the brothers had not passed the “test” that Joseph set in front of them, when Benjamin was accused of stealing Joseph’s cup?

“Only the man who was found to have the cup will become my slave. The rest of you, go back to your father in peace.” (Genesis 44:17)

It is made abundantly clear that Joseph has a soft spot for his brother Benjamin, whom they shared a mother with. When Joseph sees Benjamin for the first time, he begins to weep. And during the meal they were given, Benjamin’s meal is five times as much as anyone else’s.

So what would have happened if, after the cup incident, the other brothers had said, “Well, at least we’re alright. Benjamin can stay with you, good day”? Then they would have left, and I assume Joseph would then reveal himself to Benjamin, and it would be a happy reunion between just the two of them. So, from my interpretation (feel free to disagree with me if you want), it seemed like it was never Joseph’s initial intention to reveal himself to all his brothers. His actions seem geared towards trying to keep Benjamin in Egypt, and to get rid of the other 10.

Rereading the story of Joseph, I felt that he still had not forgiven his brothers when they showed up in Egypt. It explains why Joseph chose not to reveal himself at once, why he treated them so harshly, accusing them of being spies and kept them locked up in prison for three days. He was still bitter about what they did, and when he put the silver cup in Benjamin’s sack, Joseph expected his brothers to do what they did to him. Turn their backs and abandon Benjamin.

But that makes Judah’s plea to him all the more powerful. I’m going to put it here (feel free to skip over it if you don’t want to read all of it), just because it’s so beautiful the way it is written. I get a bit teary-eyed everytime I read it.

“Pardon your servant, my lord, let me speak a word to my lord. Do not be angry with your servant, though you are equal to Pharaoh himself. My lord asked his servants, ‘Do you have a father or a brother?’ And we answered, ‘We have an aged father, and there is a young son born to him in his old age. His brother is dead, and he is the only one of his mother’s sons left, and his father loves him.’

“Then you said to your servants, ‘Bring him down to me so I can see him for myself.’ And we said to my lord, ‘The boy cannot leave his father; if he leaves him, his father will die.’ But you told your servants, ‘Unless your youngest brother comes down with you, you will not see my face again.’ When we went back to your servant my father, we told him what my lord had said.

“Then our father said, ‘Go back and buy a little more food.’ But we said, ‘We cannot go down. Only if our youngest brother is with us will we go. We cannot see the man’s face unless our youngest brother is with us.’

“Your servant my father said to us, ‘You know that my wife bore me two sons. One of them went away from me, and I said, “He has surely been torn to pieces.” And I have not seen him since. If you take this one from me too and harm comes to him, you will bring my gray head down to the grave in misery.’

“So now, if the boy is not with us when I go back to your servant my father, and if my father, whose life is closely bound up with the boy’s life, sees that the boy isn’t there, he will die. Your servants will bring the gray head of our father down to the grave in sorrow. Your servant guaranteed the boy’s safety to my father. I said, ‘If I do not bring him back to you, I will bear the blame before you, my father, all my life!’

“Now then, please let your servant remain here as my lord’s slave in place of the boy, and let the boy return with his brothers. How can I go back to my father if the boy is not with me? No! Do not let me see the misery that would come on my father.”(Genesis 44: 32-34)

And that is when Joseph breaks. The very next verse says that he “could no longer control himself,” and that’s when he reveals himself to his brothers and weeps aloud for all to hear.

Of course, this might not be what was actually going on within Joseph’s head, it’s just my own interpretation. I like thinking about this story this way though. Joseph seems less of a godly saint, someone who is unattainably good and holy. Rather, he seems just like me, someone struggling with the concept of loving your enemies. He probably struggled with the thought of forgiving his brothers while he was in Egypt, how could he after the unforgivable thing they had done to him? And when he sees them again, hears their voices, all the old, bitter pain wells up to the surface, and he feels the old, burning anger within him, that pain that had always plagued him over the years.

But what’s so amazing about this story is how God was able to take this whole thing and turn it on its head. How God was able to open Joseph’s eyes with Judah’s words, to let him see how his brothers had changed over the years, that they were no longer the monsters that he thought they were. And in that moment, Joseph lets go. He lets go of that bitterness that he had been holding on for so long, and he welcomes his brothers, his enemies, with open arms. And he sees that,

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Genesis 50:20)

Loving our enemies will never be easy, it’s not just an over and done with thing. I can’t just say “Okay, I will stop hating this person,” and everything is fine. Everything is not fine, especially if the person who has hurt you never says sorry, or isn’t even aware that they did anything wrong. If someone has wronged you, the world tells you that you are completely justified to hate them for the rest of their lives, or until they apologize to you. But God tells you to do something radical, something completely counterintuitive to everything your mind is telling you to.

“But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you” (Matthew 5:44 KJV)

If Jesus can do it, if Joseph can do it, we could do it too. Lay aside the bitterness, even if it takes months, years, decades to finally let go of that hate for your enemy. God is the one guiding us.

Love you all!

Joanna :)

P.S: Sorry this devo is super long, if you made it all the way to the bottom, I’m quite impressed. Most people probably don’t read this far, or even read the devos haha. If you’ve gotten this far, I would love to hear your thoughts about this passage. Also this isn’t really relevant but did you know that it takes 364 licks to get to the center of a tootsie pop? Crazy right? Pls drop any fun facts or good puns

#joanna #genesis #matthew #forgiveness #loveyourenemy #may2021

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rfhusnik · 3 years

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Tripping Over One’s Feet Out By The Airplane

Written By: Marshall Lawe

This is my second submission to this forum. And again, as was the case the first time, I’m writing this reluctantly, but at the behest of my city’s mayor George Jennifer. And I’m writing this because of what our mayor rightly calls the crises at both our nation’s southern border, and inside our White House. And Charles Platt’s second letter to Ralph Hawk from Paris, which was supposed to have appeared here at this time, will be (hopefully) posted next time.

When I was a youngster I did and said what I felt I needed to do and say at every juncture. And I never concerned myself much with philosophy, or psychology, or any of those other usually mental, but sometimes physical phenomena which many times begin with a p and end with a y. But why didn’t I concern myself much with them? Well, first I suppose, as a child my mind wasn’t developed yet then to a point which allowed for much critical analysis of anything, and secondly, in the environment I knew as a child, my only goal was to get by from day to day. And on each of those days my hope and prayer was that life would transpire peacefully upon Planet Earth.

And now, although much has changed, much of that just mentioned mode of conduct remains. Yet years ago it seemed that at least whatever mistakes we made were wrong actions we committed. Today however, as a white male, I can see that according to all liberals, minorities and most women, I and those like me are to blame for all the evils currently present in modern day life. And although neighboring nations apparently can’t control their population growth, and then send massive numbers of (and let’s face it, whether you approve of the term or not) invaders into our nation, many of whom have coronavirus or aren’t even adults, I and other white males, who are only trying to live our lives in peace, are to blame. And we’re likewise guilty if a mayor somewhere does or doesn’t commit sexual harassment. And we’re to blame if rioters commit vicious acts on city streets, or police cut off the breathing capabilities of people lying on those streets, or people attack a capitol building, or a presidential election is marred by illegal actions, or someone enters a building and mass murders numbers of innocent individuals.

But today we have a plastic man to tell us about our sins, and to blame all evils upon us and the man who had his job before him. Yes, he really “tears into” us. He says he’ll make us pay. And then he trips over his own feet on the airplane entrance.

And it makes one wonder if people have no shame anymore today. Don’t they care about what the rest of the world thinks about someone who supposedly leads the free world?

And although most would agree that for a number of reasons (primarily the Coronavirus) 2020 was not a good year in The United States of America, 2021 is looking to be even worse. And the rate at which life has deteriorated in the U.S. since the swearing in of its forty sixth president seems almost unfathomable. Prices for the various forms of energy necessary to sustain the nation’s economy continue to rise because some leaders of apparently low intellect are shutting off oil pipelines and curtailing other means of energy production, while telling Americans there are new energy sources. Well, yes, those leaders have new sources – in their minds – and that’s where they’ll remain, because they’re not economically feasible. And don’t forget the oil turn down has cost many jobs which, contrary to what’s being said, will most likely never be replaced.

But then, as we leave the increased prices at the gas pump, we learn of how one political party is today evidently attempting to grasp hold of unending power in the U.S. Adding various left-wing areas as states will ensure a majority in the U.S. Senate, which will last probably as long as the nation does. And adding extra seats on the Supreme Court will turn that body liberal or radical. And driving a wedge between the various races and ethnicities which inhabit the U.S. will probably be another successful means of power grabbing. After all, everyone knows that according to the media, whites are to blame for all current American problems. Well, sure, the president is a white male, but he has a vice president who’s female and apparently non-white, and besides, those airplane entrance steps can be tricky!

So, we’ve seen the riots. We’ve seen the statues torn down. We’ve heard the police called pigs, and we’re aware that some want the salaries of law enforcement officers lowered or completely defunded. And we know that conservatives have been called fascists and children of Satan. But although conservatism is greatly hated by left-wing radicals today, that ism will never disappear from Planet Earth – nor will liberalism. If nothing else, if dictatorship someday is installed as the mode of government in the U.S., as it now appears it will be perhaps a few decades from now, there will always be a more liberal and a more conservative approach that may be taken toward every national problem, even if that approach is directly decided upon by a dictator from the Democratic Party.

And, let’s not forget the most egregious of travesties that’s been forced upon American citizens over the last few months. Unknown, and almost countless numbers of illegal aliens have gained entrance to the U.S. by one means or another. And if they’ve gotten across the Rio Grande, they’ve been coddled here. They’ve been given food and vaccinations which many real Americans still haven’t received. And many have been housed in hotels. And some have been granted a forum with members of Congress, whom they’ve apparently told that they want to be treated with dignity here! Well, my goodness! They want us to show them dignity after they violate our borders and our way of life!

And if these foreigners are going to stay in the U.S., what will become of them here? Many are children who will overcrowd our school systems in years to come. Others have no actual skills and can’t, or can barely speak English. And what effect will that have in the U.S.? Will all American children soon be required to learn Spanish?

Only so many non-productive people can be “carried” by any economic system, no matter be it ultra-right or ultra-left wing, or anywhere in between. And as the unemployment these illegals bring with them intensifies, so will crime and disease.

And those people who hide illegal aliens in so-called “Sanctuary Cities” should be made to pay the bills those “cities” generate. But instead, it appears areas of the nation which have tried to be fiscally efficient will now be required to reimburse those areas which recklessly and foolishly spent taxpayer dollars on non-essentials and illegal aliens. And a massive government bailout bill will apparently reward those areas of the nation which have fiscally “stuck it to” the more responsible areas.

And knowing that illegal aliens have brought disease, illegal drugs, human trafficking, prostitution, and only God knows whatever other evils to the U.S., is it wrong for Americans to ask why their nation’s borders can’t be secured from uninvited foreigners? And what sort of parents send unaccompanied minors into a foreign land? And what types of nations apparently do nothing to stem a tide of over-population within their borders?

And I’d like to close this piece by mentioning what I believe to be five ancillary developments or non-developments tied to the illegal immigrant and unfit to be president situations. ONE: Although the real truth of the matter is that no certain race or sex is solely responsible for the crisis at America’s border with Mexico, white males receive almost the entire blame for it. And whenever the crisis is talked about by America’s left-wing media, no responsibility is ever assessed to the people who are actually breaking the law and living carelessly and dangerously; no, of course the blame lies with men living far away who are only trying to support themselves and their families. TWO: The Democratic Party is now engaged in a “power play” in the U.S.. Various laws, especially H.R.1, if passed, will most likely doom the Republican Party. And that party will then no longer elect representatives, senators, or presidents, to which many liberals will probably say “Hooray”; but when Republicans are gone, Democrats will fight amongst themselves, and they’ll also need to fight a trend toward dictatorship, which will surely be present then. THREE: Have you noticed how emboldened foreign enemies of America have become since President forty six took office? And unfortunately, lately mass murderers also seem willing to act. And FOUR: Why doesn’t the “environmental movement” comment on the recent mass immigration into the U.S.? You would think that the massive increase in U.S. population, accrued from this assault on our borders, would greatly increase the demand for energy in time to come. And FIVE: What will life be like for whites in America if and when they become a minority in the U.S.?

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sunnyannotations · 3 years

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Sunny, Chapter 2

“Why’re Dracula’s fingernails so long?” “‘Cause he doesn’t cut ‘em.”

And I’m back! Hooray. If you’re reading digitally as I am, we lose a page somewhere between this and the last chapter, with the first labeled page as 52, when in the digital collection, it’s only 51. Hmm! We’ll find out if it happens again between the next chapters!

49/50 - Chapter Two kicks off with some nice color illustrations, first with a lonesome Kurimaru staring at an empty swing set, followed by a rambunctious scene with Sei, Junsuke, and Haruo using the set to its full capacity (and then some).

51 - This chapter takes place mainly from the point of view of Junsuke. Leaving Star Home, Koji and Junsuke leave for school, passing by the House Master. I particularly like the way the tree in the first panel is drawn, and how elongated the House Master appears as he passes by.

52 - As Junsuke gets lost in the cloudiness of House Master’s eyes, we cut back to slightly earlier in the morning, where the kids are helping pack lunches for school. They are bound in string and newspaper, with chopsticks included.

53 - Junsuke checks in on Haruo, notably smelling his mother’s Nivea cream which will come up several times in the series.

54 - As he, Sei, Haruo, Kiko, Megumu, Koji, and the Twins head off, Junsuke remarks how lucky Kurimaru, Blackie, Shosuke, and Taro are for not having to go to school. I love the three panel inset of those avoiding school, though he leaves out Chiaki, the little baby.

55 - Haruo ditches the group to play hooky as the kids make their way to school. He’s prepped with Kenji’s cool glasses.

56 - Junsuke lets Sei know that Haruo’ll have to spend time in Study Hall, where all the “super-dummies” hang out. They get to draw and play with clay instead of do math, which sounds pretty cool to me.

57 - We get a brief Junsuke harmonica performance. I really like the last panel, with the focus on the scenery as the kids travel into the background.

58 - And boom, we’re in class. A student reads from Mochi Mochi no Ki, a children’s book.

Despite this kind of unnerving cover, the story is about a boy who must overcome his fear of going outside alone at night to get a doctor to help his ailing grandfather (or at least, that’s what I can glean from the internet). The title comes from a tree in the book, the nuts of which are used to make mochi. My favorite treat!

59 - Junsuke, with a pencil up his nose, couldn’t care less about the book, staring off at an airplane in the sky.

60 - And boom, we’re at lunch! Although it’s not addressed, every student appears to be watching Junsuke as he opens his lunch of fried chicken and omelet.

61 - Junsuke pines over a peer’s shiny chopsticks. I believe the character on the container for the chopsticks (that’s how you know they’re fancy) is Cyborg 009 from the franchise of the same name.

62 - A lovely page! We get a nonchalant face reveal for Makio, comparing Junsuke to a crow, an Astro Boy (or two) figure from a capsule machine, an ink-washed crow, and then another tree like the one I previously mentioned.

63 - This page gives us a glimpse at other lunches happening. We see Haruo eating in the woods with his action figures; I don’t know what they’re from but they look cool, with many points of articulation. We also get Miss Mitsuko calling in Taro, Shosuke, and Chiaki for lunch.

64 - As Junsuke heads home alone, he is bothered by some bullies. This page features an interesting pallet swap; from afar Junsuke’s hair is grey against a black umbrella, but on close up his hair is black against a grey umbrella. Art is neat!

65 - They make fun of his Dracula-length fingernails, hence the opening quote, but shortly thereafter see an oncoming “White”!

66 - White of course being a nickname for Haruo, due to his hair color. He tosses his bag to Junsuke, which explodes on impact, in a busy but delightful panel.

67 - Haruo begins to get revenge on the bullies as Jensuke finds Kenji’s glasses.

68 - Junsuke is cleared of all worry of the bullies as Kenji continues his counterattack.

69 - Back at Star Home, Shosuke is trying to find four leaf clovers but Junsuke lets him know he needs one more leaf.

70 - Haruo plays out an action scene in Sunny. Here we have the second instance of an animal, Kurimaru in this case, having a thought, this time being that Haruo is being too noisy.

71/72 - Inside, the Twins, who I don’t think are ever named, have left the same leftovers in their lunchboxes. Miss Mitsuko discovers some sparkly Cyborg 009 chopsticks that are not Junsuke’s.

73/74 - He denies stealing them, but we all know it’s a likely story. Sei is reading an Animal Encyclopedia; I searched but with such a general title, could not find an image of it on the internet. Junsuke is sent to return the chopsticks to Ota, their rightful owner.

75 - A nice page of him trying to recruit Haruo on his mission. We get another button panel! Only one this chapter.

76 - Loyal Taro and Kurimaru have joined Junsuke, who is hooey-hooing along. He’s seen by some older classmen, including Kenji.

77 - Kenji makes sure he’ll be back by dinner time.

78 - Ota’s house smells of food; okonomiyaki is for dinner! Yummm! Junsuke loves it, and so do I. As a reward for returning the fancy chopsticks, he is given some sweets.

79 - We get some kid observations as the trio turn back on their journey home.

80 - And are left with a panel of the city, settling in for the evening.

#sunny #taiyomatsumoto #annotations

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arplis · 3 years

Text

Arplis - News: How much trouble can one pint-sized charter guest cause on Below Deck? If her name is Delores, it turns out the answer is, well, quite a lot

So much, in fact, that this episode is super-sized! In the immediate aftermath of last week’s nighttime swim, Captain Lee Rosbach is fuming. Like, he’s so angry that you can practically see steam coming out of his ears. Delores is finally out of the water, wrapped up in a towel but still not sorry for disobeying his direct orders. As far as Cap is concerned the charter is over, and they’ll be heading back to the dock in the morning. In the meantime, they have to get through the night without Delores deciding to go for another dip in the dark ocean. So Lee asks the crew to take turns playing prison guard. Which means standing in front of her cabin door all night in shifts. Naturally, this affects the entire crew and no one is particularly happy about getting their night’s sleep ruined. When Chef Rachel Hargrove finds out what’s happened up on deck, she labels Delores’ behavior “DILLIGAF.” (This stands for “Does it look like I give a f–k?” and…accurate.) The only people not particularly upset are James Hough and Elizabeth Frankini, who use Izzy Wouters‘ 2 a.m. watch to hook up in her cabin. Of course, it’s all fun and games until they lose track of time and…Izzy walks in on them an hour later. Still sick, poor Izzy just wants to go back to sleep. But now her cabin smells like a sweaty hostel. Which, it should be noted, is slightly different than smelling like hospital in the Bravoverse. So instead, she takes her pillows and goes to Elizabeth’s cabin. Only Elizabeth changes her mind and before she knows it, Izzy’s spending the night playing musical cabins and definitely not sleeping. RELATED: Former Below Deck Bosun Ashton Pienaar Is One Year Sober The next morning, Lee‘s still angry but has come up with a more clear-headed plan. The charter isn’t over. But Delores has to leave the boat. In the spirit of fairness, the other guests get to stay. Because they certainly weren’t the ones jumping overboard in the middle of the night. So there’s no need to punish them too. While the primaries sheepishly apologize to the captain, Francesca Rubi marches downstairs to get a still unapologetic Delores off the boat. After lecturing her on safety precautions one more time, she gives her 10 minutes to pack. Now, if you were being literally escorted off a super yacht for bad behavior, you’d think you’d be a little forlorn. Right? Not our girl Delores! Second mate Mark is tasked with taking her ashore in the tender. And two minutes into the ride, she utters what will go down as one of the most iconic lines from a charter guest in Below Deck history: “It would be pretty ironic if I jumped in the water right now, wouldn’t it?” And then, yes, folks, Delores proceeds to dive off a moving tender back into the ocean. RELATED: Below Deck Star Elizabeth Frankini “Felt A Lot Of Condescending Animosity” From Francesca Rubi I mean, is she for real? Is she just acting up for the cameras at this point? Determined to go out with bang? I honestly couldn’t tell you, but the entire thing is equal parts hilarious and a giant headache. I mean, My Seanna is still literally within sight. The entire crew is on board gleefully watching Delores “DILLIGAF” her way back into the water while poor Mark — whose job is to generally stay off camera — is forced to swing the tender around and pluck her out of the ocean. Get it together, Delores. And…scene. Meanwhile, everyone in the crew is exhausted from their night of prison duty. But especially Izzy. Francesca finds out about the cabin debacle from the night before and is furious at James and Elizabeth. The only reason she doesn’t go to Captain is because Eddie Lucas talks her down, convincing her the two of them can handle the issue as department heads. Which just foils Chess’s plan to get rid of Elizabeth, surely. The rest of the day goes fairly smoothly, though. The guests are now on their very best behavior, with Izzy taking them ashore for a horseback riding excursion and only one wing mirror getting busted off a jet ski when one guest (named Karen, natch) crashes it into the side of the swim platform. RELATED: Below Deck Star Izzy Wouters Comes Out As A Lesbian That night, before Rachel‘s seafood extravaganza, Eddie and Francesca sit James and Elizabeth down for a scolding. It’s like being sent to the principal’s office. While Izzy and Ashling Lorger eavesdrop from above, the two department heads chide their underlings. There’s nothing wrong with a little boat-mance, but when it starts impacting other people in the crew, there will be problems. Got it? In the galley, Rachel randomly declares she’s decided she hates James. And Francesca still clearly hates Elizabeth, even jumping down her throat for resting her feet during dinner service…10 minutes after blatantly telling Elizabeth she could rest her feet. This is bound to end well. The next morning is the last day of the charter, and Izzy wakes up even sicker. Her symptoms are suspiciously corona-like. But that would be impossible because at this point, there are no documented cases of the virus in Antigua. And also they’re on a boat in the middle of the Caribbean. So it’s probably just a case of being overworked. And, you know, lack of sleep. So either way, Izzy’s getting sent back to bed for the day. And is also being quarantined in a guest cabin the moment the charter ends. Which leaves Eddie to dock the yacht with just James and Rob Phillips, whose magnetic attraction is turning out to be the real, true boat-mance of the season. RELATED: Below Deck Alum Kelley Johnson Names His Crew Dream Team After successfully docking with only three deck crew, the “boat people” finally leave and the chaotic charter is over. The tip is…middling at best. And randomly not an even number, clocking in at $16,790. So basically, Delores was supposed to contribute to the tip and thus managed to screw the crew over even more. But hey, at least it’s over. As a reward, Captain Lee announces the crew has the following day off. And he’s even organized for them to go ashore and spend the day at a fancy Antiguan beach club. Hooray! With no charter to prep for, James takes Elizabeth on their first official date that night. While the pair are ashore for dinner, the rest of the crew plays drunk truth or dare. Which mostly involves Eddie imitating a goat and everyone offering terrible impressions of James’ British accent. Rachel‘s also ramping up her anti-James rhetoric in passing, and something tells me this might boil over into a full-blown feud. When they get back to the boat, the lovebirds avoid the rest of the crew. And can you blame them? Instead, they decide to sneak into one of the other guest cabins for the night. Without asking Francesca. RELATED: Rachel Hargrove From Below Deck Was On America’s Next Top Model The next day is supposed to be filled with fun in the sun. Even Izzy is coming along, under strict orders to stay horizontal and not drink. However, Hurricane Hargrove quickly descends on the beach club, with Chef Rachel drunkenly out of order. When Rachel drinks, she’s aggressive and more than a little obnoxious. But it’s another level here. She’s stumbling around and screaming. And then drunkenly discovers the club’s house band. And a microphone! Which she sees as an invitation to get on stage and demand “some nasty ass music.” Just as she’s ready to launch into “Walkin’ After Midnight” (“Google it,” she tells the very confused band), Francesca steps in to intervene. Rule number one in yachting under Captain Lee is clear: don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t embarrass the crew. At this point, a belligerent Rachel is very clearly doing both. And now she won’t get off stage, even with Chess’s stern prodding. It’s official: off-duty Rachel is a problem. TELL US – ARE YOU SURPRISED DELORES JUMPED OFF THE BOAT AGAIN? DO YOU SHIP JAMES AND ELIZABETH? DID YOU FEEL BAD FOR IZZY’S MUSICAL CABINS SITUATION? IS RACHEL’S DRINKING BECOMING A LIABILITY? [Photo Credit: Bravo] The post Below Deck Recap: The Last Stand Of Delores DILLIGAF And Hurricane Hargrove appeared first on Reality Tea. #BelowDeckSeason8 #RachelHargrove #AshlingLorger #LeeRosbach #Isabelle"Izzy"Wouters

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/how-much-trouble-can-one-pint-sized-charter-guest-cause-on-below-deck-if-her-name-is-delores-it-turns-out-the-answer-is-well-quite-a-lot

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theaveragekenyan · 4 years

Text

On repeat...

Nairobi City residents will be required to take part in monthly clean-ups of their neighbourhoods.

Nairobi Metropolitan Services director general Mohammed Badi made the announcement on Saturday as he launched the Ngong River Clean-Up at Karagita, Mihang’o ward.

“Each and every citizen of Nairobi county is supposed to dedicate one day a month in a clean-up exercise of the area. This is going to come into law and it will be a must,” he said.

Story excerpt, The Daily Star. (Nairobi), 12/10/20.

Hold on a sec…you go what?

These are just a few questions I have regarding that story.

What date will this start?

Which day of each month will it be?

Where will it take place?

How am I expected to get there?

What time will it start?

What time will it end?

Will I need special clothing, PPE?

Will I be provided with tools and equipment?

Is their insurance cover?

Is there dental?

Do I need to pack a lunch?

I know for a fact, the average Kenyan is not asking these questions, they’ll ignore this story for as long as possible. They may have a surprised, shocked and intensely divisive conversation about the story, something like…

“I can’t believe we’re going to be cleaning Nairobi once a month”

“I know, unbelievable right?”

“Unvelivebale”

No information will be traded during this conversation because no information has been produced. That example is typical of how much detail is required for Kenyas to make conversation.

They’ll then wait for the announcement the day before and then make all plans regarding the clean up 30 minutes before it’s about to happen.

Recently, there was a Public Holiday announcement made. Hooray, excellent news!, all except the announcement came one day before the public holiday was scheduled, that is common practice.

I would love to organise a “tut for our heroes” on the hour, every hour so that people can show their disapproval. That would communicate the utter apathy Kenyan’s display when it comes to communication.

Communication in Kenya is remarkably poor. The amount of information required to run the country is considerably low. There’s no attention to detail and stuff just happens. It’s not even as structured as the 'Chaos theory’, there is no theory.

Generally, when speaking, explaining, messaging or communicating in Kenya a golden rule is, never use pro-nouns. Whatever the subject, that is being spoken about, will always have to be referred to in first tense.

For example a sentence like;

“John went to the shop, on his way there, he became lost”

Just like John in this sentence, the average Kenyan is now lost.

On his way where?

Who was lost?

Why was something lost?

It will need to be written or spoken like this.

“John went to the shop. On John’s way to the shop John became lost, John could not find the shop John was going to”

That’s how clear you will have to be if you want to complete the story in one sentence.

It makes no sense, because the average Kenyan communicates in no more than 5 words to explain everything they need to do for the day.

Why the syntax hugely alters once translated in English, is nonsensical.

For the majority of the time Kenyan’s will not understand foreigners and our speech patterns. In Nairobi, I have spoken to Bangladeshi, American, South African, Swiss, Indian, French, Belgian, Spanish, German, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Colombian, Brazilian, Australian, New Zealand, Korean and Mexican nationalities, they could all grasp and communicate the majority of conversation in English better than the average Kenyan.

Let me be clear, this not about speaking in better English, it’s all down to inexperience of communication here.

I’d say a great example of the lack of communication, is whilst shopping.

Even in the majority of the modern shopping mall centres communication is often limited to silence.

9 times out 0, this is exactly how paying for goods at the till pans out.

ME: ARRIVE AT TILL

Till Assistant: NO GREETING

ME: I’m used to it now SAY NOTHING BACK.

Till Assistant SCAN ITEMS

ME: PROD WATER CONTAINER REMAINING IN TROLLEY BECAUSE IT’S TOO HEAVY TO PLACE ON COUNTER.

TILL ASSISTANT: NODS, STRUGGLES TO SCAN WATER

NODS AND WAVES HANDS UNTIL WATER IS SCANNED.

ME: EMPTY HEAD.

TILL ASSISTANT: COMPLETES SCANNING ITEMS.

ASSUMES I KNOW EACH INDIVIDUAL PRICE AND HAVE TOTALLED THE GOODS MYSELF.

HOLDS OUT HAND FOR PAYMENT.

ME: “How much?”

TILL ASSISTANT: TURNS DIGITAL DISPLAY UNIT AROUND FOR ME TO READ HOW MUCH.

ME: NEGOTIATE REQUIRED PAYMENT PROCESS. HOLD UP MY PHONE DISPLAYING THE STORES REWARD SCHEME APP.

TILL ASSISTANT: “Do you have the app?”

ME: “Yes”

TILL ASSISTANT: PERFORM REQUIRED STORE APP ACTION,

WAIT FOR REQUIRED PAYMENT METHOD.

ME: HAND OVER PAYMENT.

TILL ASSISTANT: IMPLEMENT PAYMENT PROCESS

ISSUE RECEIPTS

PREPARE FOR NEXT CUSTOMER

ME: COLLECT SHOPPING GOODS

EXIT STORE

SAY “TWAT” Quietly, BUT JUST LOUDLY ENOUGH TO DISPLAY DISPLEASURE.

A huge positive under the current lockdown measures is that masks are compulsory, whilst the average Kenyan wears their mask on their chin, the majority of people have adapted to wearing masks really well. This is because their communication has always sounded like it’s coming from underneath a mask, so no change required.

Voice tones and levels are a complex nature that I’ve never been able to understand.

A very common tone I hear on the streets is a high pitched nasally bleat that bypasses the mouth totally. The sound appears to emanate from the mouth and lips and they do move in synch, but this tone is created purely by the upper part of the ENT physiology.

The tone is mainly spoken by women in a rich and colourful way, it’s piercing, so I can only imagine it was developed to cut through a certain environment, like a bus full of Goats.

Men also have their version of this tone and I hear this around Buses, Market Places and Sporting action. Again, the sparse tone is used to cut through and rise above the naturally chaotic environment. From seeing Indiana Jones movies, I know this is a traditional African, Middle Eastern, Indian traditional tone as well.

I prefer this tone of voice because I can actually hear it well. The tone I despise most is the hushed, humble, mumble the average Kenyan adopts when speaking to me, because the nasal whine seems reserved for Kenyan’s only and particularly when doing business. For all other times, if the Kenyan isn’t used to speaking to Westerners in a comfortable tone, the humble mumble is what you’ll have to get used to.

I’ve been told on many occasions, the Maasai people have incredible hearing abilities because of their history of living on the grassy plains, it’s all about hunting and survival and not being attacked. When you’re in KFC choosing your meal option, there’s no need to speak so quietly, the chickens are not going to run.

Of course, Kenyan’s can tolerate and operate perfectly well at these low audio voice levels, it’s just me and a whole host of Aliens that can’t.

I’ve meet a ton of under privileged youngsters whilst I’ve been here and none of them have had a “big voice”.

That one needs to be heard in this world is always the first thing I try and teach people here. I explain their voices will be judged and their confidence and abilities depend upon this clear expressive tone.

It’s amazing to see the children adapt to this new speaking level. It’s first met with a clearing of the throat and then much shy laughter, but the levels do increase and by the time it’s time to leave, they’re at least not having to repeat themselves as much.

It’s sad, because I’m sure it’s down to oppression, a false state of respect and doing dodgy deals.

Big voices, and I’m not talking about coked up John Belushi speech levels here, but simple measured voice tones appear reserved for people in power and people who’ve travelled. For everyone else, it’s either nauseating nasals or the humble mumble.

The whole concept of communication is new here and it’s funny how so called experts talk about their knowledge.

Whilst travelling in a car together, I remember overhearing one communications “expert” for a large NGO explaining to her colleague how she’d noticed that Coca-Cola billboard ad’s are so easy to spot because they are red. She was very excited to have noticed this and to pass on this knowledge about Cokes communication strategy. I wouldn’t even expect to be taught that on the most basic communication course in the world, for people that have no communicating experience at all, on day 1.

Another “Communications Expert and Life Coach” once explained to me that there were courses available to foreign workers arriving in Nairobi to help them pronounce their words like Kenyan’s, a chance for foreigners to adopt a Kenyan accent.

Whilst I agree, it would level the playground in terms of not expecting Kenyan’s to adjust their levels of communication to sound like Kate Winslet, I just don’t think it would work. Everybody has at least three accents in them; the phone, the mate and the chat up. Everybody adapts naturally and adjusts to their surroundings without training.

I’ll be honest, from experience, I pronounce words in a Kenyan accent all the time. The other day I needed a Paint Scraper, you, know a normal triangular’ish shaped piece of metal with a handle. I looked and looked in the superstore, but I couldn’t find them. So, I now have to ask. I know this is going to be tricky, so I practice saying “scraper” in Kenyan. What would Olivier do? Well, I’m sure he couldn’t have pulled off a better pronunciation than mine.

“Ssssc-dddddd-rappah” extra sibilance on the S, extra hard C , a Gielgud rolled ‘R’ and then basically ‘Rapper’ on the end. I said the word 3 times, but no, this assistant could not get what I was saying. Off she walks to ask her her colleague. I can see shaking of heads as they both walk back to me.

“Sorry, you are saying what”? The new colleague asks, I repeat in my best Nairobi street accent again. This time I include a gripped hand action, “ahhhhh scraper, out of of stock” . The lady says it exactly as I would have normally have done, enough to make me think I was in Tesco and not Carrefour, Nairobi.

There is definitely a discussion about adapting accents to new countries, I know how tricky it can be for foreigners in any country adapting, but that’s the fun about it, sadly in these modern times, nobody has a toleration for foreigners accents.

There’s a new initiative in Kenya called ‘BBI’, ‘Building Bridges Initiative’. It is intended the initiative will shape Kenya for the next few generations and deliver a widespread change of democracy to help Kenya develop and prosper in the future. The BBI summary I’ve just written is, currently, more than the average Kenyan knows about the policy and I fear they won’t know much more about it for a for a long time either because nobody is telling them anything correctly, but at least we’ll have cleaner streets once I start my rounds.

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