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nctsjiho · 3 years

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Third Wheeling

warnings: again minor injury

era: June 2021

❀ Teaching Hendery how to skate (and trying to get closer to him) doesn’t quite give the results one was hoping for

“Seeing you fall on your face was pretty amusing, not gonna lie.” Yangyang smirked avoiding JiHo’s eye contact, but soon enough he received a hard slap against his arm. He laughed, holding arm where the stinging remained and looked at JiHo again. “You said you were good.” “I am! It’s not my fault you bumped into me while I was perfectly skating past that bush.” JiHo defended herself, making sure to put emphasis on ‘perfectly’ to prove her competence. “Sure~ Go ahead and put the blame on me.” Yangyang grinned, having the time of his life while teasing JiHo.

A quiet knock sounded from Yangyang’s bedroom door, followed by the door being pushed open. From one side of the doorframe a familiar face came into view. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Hendery carefully said, a bashful smile on his face. “Not at all.” JiHo jumped up from Yangyang’s bed, secured her new skateboard – she had to thank Yangyang and Ten for that one – under one arm and walked up to Hendery. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.” She looked the boy straight in the eyes. Did she not notice how close she was? Or was Hendery just being overly aware of his surroundings? “And that boy was really starting to get on my nerves.” She squinted at Yangyang, but couldn’t help but mirror the smile that he was also sporting. “Let’s go?” She eyed the two boys. “Yup, you can go put your shoes on already.” Yangyang told JiHo who complied and left the room.

Walking up to Hendery, who seemed like he was in a completely other world right now, Yangyang patted the boy’s shoulder seeming to bring him back to reality. “Looked like you just saw a ghost.” Yangyang commented, but then his expression turned into something a bit more mischievous. “Or was it more like an angel? Hmm?” The younger boy winked before leaving the room to follow JiHo, not without missing the flustered look on Hendery’s face.

After Yangyang had picked up his hobby for skateboarding again through the video he shot for the WayV channel, JiHo quickly joined him. She had done so many types of skating when she was younger. Skateboarding may not have been het best form of skating, but she still enjoyed it nonetheless. So when she talked with Yangyang about it, they made a habit to go out and skate for a few hours every day – more like night – that they could.

Not only was it a great way to better their skills and wind down from long days of practise, recordings and other schedules, but it was also a great opportunity to hang out and strengthen their friendship. Something about being the two Europeans and sharing similar hobbies and interest, the both agreed it was only necessary for them to be close.

Well, after a few nights of skating together and Hendery coming up in one of their seemingly endless conversations, JiHo asked if Yangyang would be okay with inviting his groupmate to one of their skating sessions. Of course Yangyang had teased JiHo about it, because Hendery and JiHo hadn’t really hung out lately and despite their efforts to get closer a few months back, it felt like they were back to square one. Strangers again. “Then it’s a great idea, Hendery and I will stop being awkward in no time once we start hanging out again.” JiHo explained, trying her best not to get tipped off by Yangyang’s continuous teasing. “He can’t even skate. At least I don’t think so.” “Maybe he’s willing to learn. Just ask him.” JiHo said in almost a pleading tone and Yangyang finally agreed. “I guess I’ll be third wheeling again.” The comment made JiHo’s eyes widen significantly. “Third wheeling? What are you talking about! If anything I’ll be third wheeling.” JiHo countered defensively. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

The walk to their usual skating spot wasn’t too long. Usually they would ask WayV’s manager to bring them to a place near Gangnam River, but after a few times they didn’t want to be too bothersome and decided to choose a spot closer to the dorm. Of course JiHo could drive them to a nicer spot, but then she’d had to ask permission to use her manager’s car and they would end up in the same situation, not wanting to bother a manager.

The two 00 liners didn’t seem to have any problems engaging in conversations. The second they set foot out of the dorm, they had been talking nonstop. It seemed like Hendery had become the third wheel after all. Not that he minded though. His thoughts were somewhere else completely, he didn’t even really notice that he was trailing behind the duo, looking like he was a stranger who coincidentally was going the same place resulting in him walking behind them.

However JiHo had noticed this and she abruptly turned around to face Hendery, who almost bumped into the girl due to her sudden movement. “Wow! Look out there.” JiHo grinned, using her free hand to steady Hendery. “I just noticed you hadn’t said anything since we left, just making sure you’re still there.” She laughed and Yangyang joined her. “Aw JiHo. Always the caring type.” He almost sang earning yet another slap, but this time to his other arm. Ah! You’re going to give me bruises!” “That’s the plan.”

Hendery couldn’t seem to help but just watch the two younger members argue playfully. No words left his mouth as he awkwardly stood there, questioning why he even came in the first place.

Yangyang was right. Hendery couldn’t skate and he never really showed interest in learning. Even if he thought that skateboarding looked cool, the idea of learning to skate never crossed his mind. Yet when Yangyang asked him if he wanted to join him, he said yes. Well, to be more precise, he agreed when Yangyang asked him if he wanted to join him and JiHo. Why did he say yes?

“You’re so annoying.” JiHo exhaled deeply before perking up. “But we’re here, so let’s just have fun now.” Yangyang grabbed the nose of his board before starting to take a few steps away from his friends. “Have fun teaching this guy, I’ll be just going around for a bit.” Before JiHo could protest Yangyang had already taken off, slowly distancing himself further and further from the pair.

Once Yangyang was a good distance away JiHo looked up at Hendery. “Okay, I guess that means I’ll be your teacher today.” She grinned awkwardly earning an as just awkward smile back. “I’ll just teach you the basics so don’t worry, I won’t make you do dangerous tricks or anything.” JiHo placed her board down, instructing Hendery to do the same. “You know? You’re actually pretty lucky.” Hendery met JiHo’s eyes, showing her his confused expression. “Yangyang wouldn’t be as patient or good of a teacher.” A smile broke out on Hendery’s face in complete agreement of JiHo’s words.

A few minutes had already passed, with Hendery getting on his board, a spare one provided by Yangyang, and JiHo helping him move forward. It was definitely awkward with Hendery carefully gripping JiHo’s outstretched arms. Not wanting to hold on too tight scared that it would weird out JiHo, but also not too loose because he didn’t want to fall on his face while struggling to keep his balance. JiHo continued to help him forward trying to get him to find his balance on the board and get used to the feeling, until a soft chuckle left her lips. “W-What’s wrong?”

Hendery wanted to jump in a hole feeling insanely embarrassed. Did his voice really just break in front of JiHo? He wanted to hide his face, which he was sure was bright red already, but he couldn’t let go of JiHo’s hand. He’d definitely fall if he did.

Luckily JiHo didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she was just nice enough not to mention it. Instead she just answered Hendery’s question. “Nothing, it’s just interesting how we’re still this awkward.” She looked up at the boy, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “I mean, you’re the energetic one in WayV besides Yangyang and I usually don’t have any problem with talking to anyone. So what’s different between us?”

Between us? Us? There was such a thing as ‘us’? Hendery’s mind went 100 km an hour trying to come up with an answer, but only other questions start to form. Another chuckle brought him back to reality and his eyes locked with JiHo’s again.

“You don’t talk a lot? That’s pretty hard to believe after the things Yangyang told me about you.” A deep red tint slowly began creeping up on Hendery’s skin. “Or is it just me? Do I scare you? Make you feel uncomfortable-“ “NO!” Hendery suddenly yelled, startling both JiHo and himself. In the attempt to clear up misunderstandings between him and JiHo, he let go of her arms. Unfortunately, the sudden movement made him loose his balance. The skateboard rolled from underneath his feet sending him towards the ground with record speed.

Seeing her colleague going down, JiHo quickly reached out to hold Hendery in the hopes of breaking his fall a bit. However her idea backfired as her grip on him only made it so she was pulled along with him to the ground.

Both her left hand and knee made contact with the ground, causing some painful scrapes across the skin – and unfortunately a rip in one of her favourite jeans. Still, her caring side took over, as she, instead of checking on her own wounds, worried over the boy that just fell on his backside onto the ground, harshly. “Oh my God! Are you okay?”

Her eyes skipped over every part of Hendery’s body, trying to see if he got hurt anywhere. Not noticing any wounds at first glance, JiHo grabbed a hold of Hendery’s hands, inspecting them carefully and seeing the scrapes and cuts that adorned the skin.

“Are you okay?” She asked, the concern dripping of her every syllable. All Hendery could do was nod, his eyes fixed on JiHo’s as she hovered over him. “I’m sorry, I should’ve held on more tightly.” She apologised but Hendery quickly shook his head. He wasn’t sure if his voice was going to betray him this time, but he couldn’t let JiHo feel responsible for the accident. “No it’s okay, it’s my fault. ”JiHo’s eyes finally stopped analysing Hendery’s cuts and looked into his own. “Are you okay though?” He asked slowly.

Hendery could feel his heart beat in his throat, an uncomfortable feeling that felt like it was about to hinder his ability to breathe. Why was he feeling like this?

JiHo just nodded in response, the expression on her face completely unreadable now. Did he make her feel uncomfortable? Why was she looking at him like that? But before Hendery’s mind could go back spiralling into a million questions, he hear the sound of a skateboard approaching.

“Wow! What happened here? I’m not bothering you guys am I?” The teasing tone in Yangyang’s voice was very noticeable, causing JiHo to turn around and scowl at him, albeit not in a serious manner. “Do you need some help getting up?” Yangyang asked, this time his tone wasn’t joking at all after noticing the pained expressions from his two friends.

JiHo however declined and pushed herself up on her own, her wounds on her knee and hands becoming visible to the two boys. “JiHo.” Hendery gasped, but before he could say anything Yangyang rushed to her side. “That looks pretty bad. Are you okay?” JiHo nodded yet her actions showed otherwise.

She could only stumble her way to her own board to grab it in her hands. The two boys looked at her confused. “Let’s go home.” She said silently and the two boys agreed. Yangyang pulled his friend up from where he still sat on the ground, making sure he was okay as well. Besides the stinging on his butt and hands where he had landed and braised himself for the fall, he was okay.

The two quickly walked up to JiHo who still seemed to only be able to stumble, every step looking like it hurt her leg. “I can give you a piggy back ride back to the dorm.” Yangyang offered but JiHo just shook her head. “I can still walk.” “But it looks like it hurts. All I’m saying is, I’m being really nice for once, might as well take advantage of it.” The boy’s words received a roll of JiHo’s eyes and small laugh. “I’ll be fine though.” JiHo said, but Yangyang still felt bad and decided to offer her some support in the form of an arm around her waist.

While walking back to the dorm, Yangyang eyed Hendery for a second, who walked on the other side of the girl, but with way more distance between them. “It’s funny how he was the one on the board, but you got hurt the most. How does that even happen?” Yangyang laughed and JiHo joined him, but a lot more quietly.

Hendery’s eyes fell on the two younger members. “Indeed. How does something like that happen? I wish it didn’t.” He thought to himself, letting his head drop down and keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him for the whole walk back.

---

Side Note: this one was a bit longer. I hope you didn’t mind the length. ^^

Also happy Taeyong day <3

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct female member #nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct extra member #nct additional member #nct female addition #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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annetteblog · 3 years

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Intro & My take on KM

Hi!

I’m new around here so it’s supposed to be (not so short) introduction, since I don’t know how to start a blog heh. I hope to sprinkle my 0.5 cents into the KM conversation and maybe to bring a new perspective from someone, who is not a part of the typical English-speaking West.

Who /the hell/ Am I?

(please, consider it to be said with NJ’s voice from Intro: Persona :D)

I was born in Siberia (it’s in the Asian part of Russia), currently live in the European part of the country while studying at a Uni (European in terms of geography, not in terms of everything else i’m definitely not shading rn lolllll). English is not my first language, I’ve just kind of learnt it to some extent. Due to this it takes me more time to write a post; and I may (and will) make some grammatical & other mistakes. Plus I’m lazy AND busy with Uni, so I won’t even promise to be consistent in posting smth lol. But I thought I need more practice in terms of writing in English, so here I am, actually scribbling something. This feels weird, because I’ve been around stan Tumblr since 2015, but never ever interacted, just read.

How I ended up around Jikook/Kookmin (and BTS) & My (long&messy) take on this matter

Although I had heard of BTS before, I became an Army only in October 2018. I had kinda avoided them, because you know... boybands.... sing songs about romantic love and how they love girls.......... (+I had been around Twitter when 1D been at their peak and I remember a quite toxic community of fans, whom always had scared me). Shortly, hello stereotypes. Obviously, after I got engaged I felt terribly sorry that I had been sleeping on them, but what is done cannot be undone.

Someone I knew back then reposted one of their MVs and I, during my sad hours of procrastination, decided to watch it. Then I saw their live performance with the same song. And I thought “wow these guys can sing and dance and the music is kinda cool, i need to check this out maybe??”

Then a funny thing happened. One of the next videos I watched (the same person had it added to their page) was a 2016 BangtanBomb where JM and JK practiced their Coming of Age dance.

Do you know this moment with Gina from the 1st episode of Brooklyn 9-9:

Well, that was precisely me after I watched it. I don’t even know how to explain this, it was kind of a gut feeling? Whatever you call it, I started to get suspicious and couldn’t even explain to myself why. /actually now a do have questions to this vid and the main one - why does everyone cringe that much? if it’s a girly choreo than they had done some “girly” moves before. why is there such strong reaction??/

I started to get deeper and went to some ru-shipper communities. Shipping culture among Russian speaking fans is... well, weird to some extent, but I maybe address this topic some time later. You need to consider that (as far as you probably know) Russia is quite homophonic country and sadly is not the greatest place for LGBTQ+ community at the moment. The non-frienly influential attitudes hanging in the society + the general shippers’ weirdness = the result is not that nice honestly.

I struggled for some time in order to find more mature people (not just in terms of age but in general sanity), failed, ended up with some EXTREMELY toxic ru-fans of TK, which was/is the most popular pairing here, spent among them like 15 minutes and ran away horrified. After that I didn’t even try to engage with shippers or believers or whatever of any pair and just decided to enjoy the music and the content (which is a great idea, highly recommend!)

After a couple of days I discovered that JK makes videos. I love video, films and visual art so I immediately found them on YT, saw the titles with names of different cities from all over the world and was like “Oh that must be so cool, he’s visited so many outstanding places I’ve never been to, so I really need to watch it! I shall enjoy some beautyyy”. Then I clicked on GCFt.

Well, what can I say. I did enjoy some beauty, but not the type I had initially anticipated. The biggest clickbait in my entire life. JK should be proud of himself.

/as I said - the beauty/

I had already known Troy back then and I known the song’s lyrics so it would not be an underestimation to say - the video just blew my mind. I was like - hold on is this real? seriously?? no really really????? he manage to get away with something THAT obvious?????? dude how

As a person who edited videos AND is not a native English speaker, I don’t buy the explanation “oh he mustve didnt get the lyrics lmao”. You just don’t do that. You don’t. DON’T. You google and translate every shit you don’t understand, every word and idiom you’ve never encountered, because otherwise the possibility of an epic failure is very likely. You wouldn’t want to give your mum a video as a birthday present and then discover that you used a song with WAP-ish lyrics, right? (well maybe that would be okay in your family, I don’t judge, but that’s not the case for people I know). So don’t you dare to degrade JK’s intellectual capacities; such assumption is really offensive. He is a smart boii, he knows exactly what he’s doing in terms of his art.

So I was shocked, but decided to look for the context - maybe I missed some previous events regarding this Tokyo thing (another great idea - always check the context). Well, apparently I didn’t, because the whole narrative with the trip for two, lovely selfies etc. made my poor brain lowkey explode. (I still don’t buy the rings theory thing though)

But I didn’t give up lol! I’m a bit stubborn and it’s very hard to convince me in anything, so I decided to search for more context, more of their interactions, moreeee. Remember, the late October 2018, there were no swan lakes, RB, and even MMA18 hadn’t happened yet.

This time I ended up watching content in more or less consistent way, and when I saw all of these scenes with affectionate JM and a cool badass i-don’t-care-about-anyone-i’m-a-manly-man-with-no-feelings-whatsoever JK, I just hysterically laughed.

Homophobic Russia, remember? I recognized this. Growing up here being LGBT myself, taught me the same type behaviour during my high school days. When a girl I kinda liked but didn’t what to admit it to myself was nice to me or (oh god) flirted with me, I did something similar. It’s like a huge panic mode. Being an introvert doesn’t help either. The funniest thing is that you may not entirely realise what exactly is going on in terms of your own feelings, especially at that age (16-18ish). In my personal case, I thought I liked her but as a friend, only later to realise that well not as a friend oops :DDD The second thing (already not so funny) is that you actually consciously or unconsciously try to avoid the subject as much as possible, as long as possible and pretend that nothing is going on. We’re just bros. Stop doing this stupid gayish thing and don’t look at me like that, you’re annoying. If you ever do this again I (gently) kick you. I’m straighter than a straight line in my math textbook. IDK, but probably that’s your brain is somehow trying to protect you. Again, in my case&position I knew that the consequences for any non-straight person being outed would be bad (TW not to the point of being killed bad, but to the point of being excluded from a big part of society). So for me it was a mixture of the internalized homophobia + lack of self reflection + just being a bit emotionally slow + very! straight community around. Shit happens, I was a teenager and made my share of mistakes, but that experience helps me to recognize the same pattern of behaviour up to this day.

So coming back to KM, because the post is already waaay too long and I just ramble. It’s been 2+ years for me being a part of this fandom, and what can I say... Things become more intense and eventful with every year passing by ;) Funny how I felt that vibe from the 2016 dance practice video. Seeing the Black Swan performance a week ago almost had me choked, no joking. They are amazing.

Pure Art

However, and I would like to emphasize that, I do not incline that KM are 100% romantically involved and/or gay or whatever. I tend to treat people with respect and not to make too much assumptions about their private life. That’s not my business. However, I’m also not a fan of heteronormativity, so I’m just sitting here and observe everything that’s going on putting some distance and not forgetting being generally polite and critical thinking. But if they are just straightest besties please give them an Oscar before Grammy

Anyways, I hope this blog won’t kick the bucket from the very start and I will post something every now and then. You can always ask me questions about some BTS/Jikook related stuff or something about Russia and a Russian view on mass culture topics, since I’m pretty sure some of you have very stereotypical view of what is going on here :) However, do note that I’ve never been to America or Europe, therefore I may not be aware of something verrrry obvious to you or just have a completely different experience.

P.S. And yeah, I’m used to say Jikook, since it’s the name which is used much more frequently in Russian. i like it better and what will u do haha

#jikook #kookmin #what am i even doing here #i'm gonna regret this #long post

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dear-yandere · 4 years

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hiraeth (ii).

hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

yandere! don! giorno giovanna x f! reader. collab with @ddarker-dreams. read part one here! do not re-upload or use our writing without permission.

› warnings: angst, blood and gore, poisoning, canon-typical violence, death. › word count: 9.3k. › art credit: spearthymint.

Intrusive, lifeless eyes watch on from afar with tangible disgust. Hatred being the driving point behind his entire existence, all positive emotions are but a long forgotten memory of the past. To see the devil incarnate rejoicing in the fine pleasures of life is sickening, enough to make his head spin in further abhorrence. Observing from a safe, undetectable distance has been a rough challenge. All for the sake of procuring revenge, to fill the hole in his heart Giorno Giovanna tore out all those years ago.

Fueled by malice, the Stand, Snake Oil, slithers in the shadows of false paradise. More akin to a hybrid between human and snake, Snake Oil is the size of a fully grown man when stretched out to his fullest. His appearance is similar to that of a cobra, clad in ebony scales that serve as armor and dull, ruby eyes. Despite his imposing physique, it is truly unfortunate; having seen Giorno up close, Snake Oil knows killing him is impossible. So he’ll go for the next best possibility, inflicting the same pain he felt all those years ago. Having what you love most in the world ripped from you, torn apart before your eyes until nothing but blood and flesh remain. This is the bleak world of gangsters. To take and be taken from. To maintain equilibrium, vacillating between the highest of triumphs and lowest of defeats. Snake Oil has known nothing but the latter, surrounded by loneliness and bitterness that festers like an open wound. The scars of that day remain, the corpses of his family attempting to defend one another a grim reminder. A reminder that he’ll grip until his last breath, his only anchor in this world.

An eye for an eye.

The two of you are a picture perfect scene; pity how such beauty is fleeting. All it’ll take is a single opening. Giorno’s guard is lowered considerably, but he clings to you like an insistent shadow. How irritating. If only he left your side for a few more moments, then you’d be within range to kill. To have revenge just within grasp feels surreal in the best of ways. It brings a rush that the Stand hasn’t felt in years. The pain that makes up his resolve has yet to fade, pulsing and growing stronger as he searches for an opening.

There’s a visible shift between you two.

Snake Oil’s uncertain of the nature of things from this distance, gathering clues to the greater picture through body language. You’re on edge, impulsive, as you separate from Giovanna’s clutches, however momentary it may be. Snake Oil realizes this is the best opportunity he’ll be afforded. It isn’t the ideal set of circumstances, with your insistent shadow nearby, but it’s enough to be out of Gold Experience’s range. The Stand possesses great speed, a skill that will be fully taken advantage of in this course of this plan; in this moment, it seems more like a blessing than a skill, given who he’s going up against.

Checking to make sure the Don doesn’t follow you and remains seated, fate finally seems to have smiled upon Snake Oil today. This is the best opportunity he’ll get.

Slithering from his hiding spot amongst thickets, he lunges at you from behind. A horrified shriek leaves your lips at the constricting sensation surrounding you, body feeling like it may explode at any second. The air is forcefully pushed from your lungs, breathing growing erratic. Out of instinct, you struggle in hopes of freeing yourself, to no avail.

Two, phantom-like apparitions phase through your neck. You cry out, but the sound is pitiful and choked, dying mid air. The skin of your neck is raw, the insides slightly turned out and exposed in order to accommodate the invisible fangs of your attacker. The area pulses, quickly numbing when a venom is injected into your veins. The change is immediate, your eyes widened to their brim and your screams choked into your throat like spit. Your vision darkens slowly, the grip you once had on your consciousness now gone; the last thing you remember is the shock on Giorno’s face.

Giorno rises in an instant, a flash by his side procuring Gold Experience Requiem to come to your defence. Before any more movements are made on either side, Snake Oil takes control of the situation by speaking in a booming voice. It commands authority, knowing that leverage is within his grasp. That this wicked man wouldn’t dare endanger your life.

“Make one, tiny move, and I snap her neck.”

This is the plan, for better or worse. For Snake Oil to utilize its ability, a fast acting venom that’ll kill you within minutes. The in-between time of injection and subsequent organs shutting down will take place. During this period, he’ll finally find satisfaction in Giovanna’s suffering, helpless to aid you in fear of making it worse. Changes in your skin should be taking place now, veins growing dark as it carries the lethal dosage to the rest of your body. It’s acting slow, Snake Oil realizes. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, a false concern born from his anxiety about the situation.

It's a tricky situation, one which requires Giorno to act fast and tread carefully.

“I take it you won’t tell me who you are.” Giorno chooses his words with the utmost care despite the shock and anger rolling from his body. Gold Experience Requiem hovers closeby, the same rage thinly veiled beneath the Stand’s imposing and threatening presence. As Giorno’s Stand, GER has always been utterly taken with you, having no need to hide its affections like its user must. He is a pure amalgamation of Giorno’s love for you; the sight of your life endangered is no doubt a blow to its usual composure and restraint. Neither party wants nothing more than to destroy their enemy in an instant, but there’s no guarantee you wouldn't be caught up in the fray.

“You say that as if you remember the names of every person you’ve hurt,” Snake Oil does little to hide his animosity, keeping an eye out for any tricks Giorno may have. “It made no difference who I was before. Not until I threatened your little prisoner, that is.” The Stand sneers, its arm coiled around your neck. Its tail is strung around your lower half, restricting any flailing and movement should the poison’s effect be prolonged.

“What is it that you want?” Ignoring the Stand’s treatment of you, to the best of his ability, Giorno tests the waters. Every word the Stand speaks is funneled into his mind, searching for hints that can be taken advantage of, for any cracks that can be slipped through. The top priority is to get to you out of harm’s way, no matter the cost. Composure on either end is unfaltering, a duel of wits to secure a victor. This is a matter of life and death. And still, Giorno hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected to see your body, your skin pallid and your limbs motionless, cradled in the arms of a man who intends you harm. His composure falters at the mere sight. That Stand isn’t just holding you; he’s holding Giorno’s happiness, his future, his heart in a vice grip. He sees the way your eyebrows knit and your body winces, the Stand’s grip far too tight to insinuate any goal other than to kill.

Snake Oil only smiles in response, not yet wanting to ruin this moment of pure distress radiating from the Don and his Stand. The sight itself is rapturing; it’s not everyday that a lowly civilian such as himself gets to see one of the most influential men in the world come apart.

Unabashed, Giorno considers what information is presented to him. From how this Stand speaks, its user is older, if not a bit inexperienced. No slang or other terminologies from a younger generation are present in his words, it’s far more removed and bitter. As if the user has seen the worst the world has to offer, callous in his direct approach; as if the user is betting everything on the line for a small chance at attacking the Don of Passione.

He needs to get you out of the Stand’s range. Since the Stand didn’t attack him, the main source of his user’s ire no doubt, it’s likely a long-range Stand. Any suspicious movements will lead to your death. And, from a quick look around, there are no suspicious vessels within a 10 km radius of the island; he would have seen them approaching long before, had there been. Its user must be far, and the Stand must be operating at its maximum range. Engaging in close-range combat would be the best bet if you weren’t engulfed in the Stand’s arms, its poison already blackening the veins around the entrance wound. Killing it might prove to be the only antidote, but on the other hand, it’s a risky trade. Perhaps the Stand’s power doesn’t include producing an antivenom — killing it early would slash any chances of saving you before the poison spreads further into your system. The only option for Giorno now is to provoke him, upsetting the Stand to the point where a mistake is made. In that opening, Giorno will strike.

“It must’ve been a lot of work to make it here,” Giorno begins his plan with a cautious comment, searching for any outward reaction. Nothing. Assuming he’s safe to continue, he offers his observations. “If you have any demand, make them known now.”

It’s not so much stalling, but rather, testing the waters. To see how much resistance he can offer without you being placed in any more danger, igniting sparks that will only gain strength with time. Each word is selected with great care, not wanting to further upset the emotional user and trigger an undesirable outcome. Under the face of immense pressure, Giorno steels himself. It’ll do you no good otherwise.

The Stand lets out a distorted chuckle, its grip on you unwavering. “Demands? Of course, someone in your line of work would naturally come to that conclusion. You think I’d go this far for power? Money? Drugs?”

Giorno’s eyes narrow, and he mentally checks off one motive.

“There’s nothing then? No affiliation, no desire for material gain?” Giorno’s incessant line of questions come to a halt when the Stand tightens its grip around you. Sensing that Snake Oil’s growing irate, Giorno can only assume it’s because this encounter isn’t going as planned. Given how frail you are, the poison should have spread to major points in your nervous system, your death imminent. While Giorno has his theories, ones he can only hope to be true at this very moment, they’re placed on the back burner for the time being.

“How could I forget? That’s all that matters to people like you.” The Stand’s tone is low, prudent. Giorno’s interrogation is getting somewhere, it seems. The Stand’s grip on your shoulders have loosened slightly, only to retighten within a moment’s notice. Giorno’s heart tightens in response, the unpleasant feeling not showing on his face in the slightest. “Gain. How to make more at the expense of others, a greed that cannot be sated no matter whose life is taken in the process.”

Ah. Perhaps...

“You say that like nothing could satisfy you.” The tempest unfolding in Giorno’s mind begins to calm. His answers lie at the eye of the storm, waiting to be found. It’s an easy enough feat for someone of Giorno’s caliber, as his job requires quick-witted thinking and observation. So he presses forward, his words more daring, his answers more confident.

The Stand can’t help but grimly agree, darkness spreading over its inhuman face upon realizing how unaffected the don is. “Nothing can.”

It’s brief, but Giorno catches a glint of sadness cross the Stand’s features. A trick of the light, perhaps, as he’s yet to see any Stand capable of showing emotion; and yet, this one reeks of resentment and regret. He’s closer to his answer.

“Not even her death?”

“It’s a place to start.” The Stand hisses in a displeased tone. This isn’t how he envisioned this encounter in his mind, the countless outcomes that all ended with Giorno Giovanna in the pits of despair. He should have known better; the Don of Passione is cruel. A monster who wouldn’t be phased even by the loss of his beloved. Still… an element of unknown is always present in Stand battles. Your immediate death should’ve been carried out by now. That’s how it was meant to be; the venom is fast acting on normal people, only slightly less-so on stand users. He draws bated breath and lets his expectant gaze flicker toward you. The moment you breathed your last, Snake Oil would have true satisfaction, witnessing Giorno lose everything he holds dear, just as he had all those years ago. Ultimately, he’d be killed for his transgressions. But he’d come to terms with that long ago, the final chapter of his life ending in Giorno’s grief. The ultimate satisfaction, even if it sends him to Hell. Even if it keeps him from his family.

But your face is pristine, calm despite the painful wound on your neck and the quickly blackening vessels under your skin. You… you’ve stolen that opportunity from him. Why won’t you just die already, like you’re meant to? Why can’t you die as quickly as his own family died before him? It can’t be due to Giorno’s Stand. If you were within Gold Experience Requiem’s range, that meant Snake Oil would be as well. The battle would be hardly fought, the Stand’s sacrifices for nothing. If that were the case, Giorno wouldn’t be watching from afar, the great Don of Pasione helpless to save his own beloved.

Something is wrong.

He can’t let it be for naught. Not after all the sacrifice, after all the hellish years that plagued him. Even now, Giorno waits patiently, an air of dignitary grace and poise befitting someone of his position. His eyes never once stray from the Stand’s physique, not even to check on his beloved, presumably searching for an opening to end the Stand’s life. There’s no chance to give it more thought. The power the Stand wanted to hold in this moment is faltering, slipping between his fingers like fine sand.

“How long ago was it that I took something from you?”

He’s going out on a limb, an educated guess more than anything else. He almost feels pathetic, betting your life like this, as if you’re another bargaining chip in Passione’s plans, another expendable pawn. But there’s no other option in his sights, his thoughts filled with saving the light of his life from the darkness of his own past.

There’s no longer an immediate response from the Stand, nor a sarcastic quip full of loathing. It felt like the most logical explanation, revenge being the greatest motivator known to man. Giorno knows he made the correct assumption, or something close to it, considering Snake Oil’s change in attitude. Did the Stand think Giorno would remain in the dark until the end?

“What… what do you mean?”

Hesitation.

Giorno’s lips twitch into a small, satisfactory smile, his nerves having earned some rest upon guessing correctly. He continues, this time with a barrage of thinly-veiled accusations rather than questions. “It must’ve been longer than a few months, with how much planning this would’ve taken. So when was it? A year, two maybe?”

The most drastic changes were made within Passione during the first six months of Giorno taking over.

“Why does the time even matter?” He bites. “All the people you’ve killed, they’re nothing but faceless names on a list to you.”

Giorno wants to laugh; for someone so bent on killing him, he took the bait far too easily.

“While that holds some merit, you’re no better in that regard.” He begins, shaking his head and shifting his weight onto the other foot, looking awfully lax despite the context of this conversation. He takes note of the way Snake Oil’s fingers twitch with arrogant annoyance. “Wanting to involve an innocent life who has nothing to do with this, you don’t know the first thing about her.”

“You’re wrong. I know plenty about this girl who had the misfortune of meeting you,” Snake Oil’s blank eyes flicker towards your incapacitated form. You look more like a helpless pup than the wife to a mafia boss; perhaps… perhaps that’s why he chose you. For your vulnerability, for your innocence. “Not that you made it easy. Having virtually every aspect of her existence wiped from the planet, going so far as to pay off police to end their missing person search… scum never has hopes of growing, do they?”

Giorno has no reason to justify his thoughts to a stranger who intruded on your paradise and put your life in peril, no matter what injustices he might have caused the man in the past. Only for the motive of provoking him further does he respond. “For the sake of protecting her from those who’d do her harm.” He quips, his expression unchanging.

“Is that what helps you sleep at night, Giovanna? A pat on the back for kidnapping some girl from her life, taking away all her freedoms? Letting her family search and search, only to be fed lies that there are no leads, that the case has gone cold?” Snake Oil’s grip on you falters slightly, a wave of pity washing over him at your poor predicament. How unfortunate you are to have earned the attention of a demon… “You don’t know the first thing about losing someone precious to you, do you? What you’re doing to her isn’t protection. This is greed, meant only to benefit yourself,” the Stand accuses. “Considering how greedy you lot are, I’m surprised it hasn’t occurred to you that, if it weren’t for your manipulation, she would’ve slit your throat weeks ago.”

Giorno is wholly unfazed; he has been called worse, by you even. Nothing the Stand says or will say could come close to the unfiltered hatred he’s heard from you. “Believe what you want, Snake Oil. It makes no difference to me.”

“... So it doesn’t. I suppose labels hold no significance in your life — you’ve come to terms with what you really are. You're a fool, thinking someone like yourself is capable of love. A murderer can experience no such thing.”

“And that’s what I am to you,” Giorno deduces, scouring the Stand’s mannerisms for any clues that may be of use. “A murderer.”

“It’s not what you are to me. It’s an undeniable fact.”

Giorno doesn’t give him the luxury of a response nor the slightest change in his own expression. His stare is blank, even with your life on the line, even when you hang uselessly from the enemy’s arms. The venom is spreading, creating a thick, void-like trail along the paths of each vein it reaches. Starting from the entrance wound in your neck, your blackening veins look like tendrils, crawling up your face and down your chest — toward your brain, your heart. So that is his Stand power...

“Does she know, Giovanna?” Snake Oil hisses, handling your unconscious body harshly. Giorno bites down on his bottom lip at the mere sight, composing himself; now is not the time to strike, not over something so trivial. If that were the case, he would have used Gold Experience Requiem the moment this enemy laid a single finger on your person. Snake Oil barks out more questions, clarifying himself. “Does she know who you truly are beneath that mask?”

Giorno returns his gaze to his enemy, the look in his eyes hardening considerably as he chews on the question. Is that his motive? To use you as a bargaining chip, a means to lower his guard far enough to strike? It’s clever, if nothing else, but Giorno is poised in the art of manipulation. The chaos unraveling in his head, jumping from conclusion to conclusion over your current state — even that is pushed to the far reaches of his consciousness. Lashing out will do the Don no good. It’s a strength right now more than anything, the ability to stuff his own emotions and humanity into the recesses of his mind. Considering how emotional this Stand and its user must be to find a remote, isolated island and its sole inhabitant — regardless of Passione’s extensive influence over the territory — this man has a personal vendetta against Giorno himself.

But he should have never involved you.

Occupied with their back and forth, the pair of men fail to take notice of how your finger twitches by your side. The movement is subtle, easy to miss; even Giorno is too caught up in the situation to pay you any mind for once. The slightest movements of your incapacitated body are the least of his concerns, right now, his mind filled with one thought: you haven’t awoken. You are dying, and that is far more than Giorno can take.

“She doesn’t need to know.”

The Don smiles sardonically. Gone is the ray of light that usually graces his features when he sets foot on this island, when his gaze lands on you. This man keeps speaking of you as if he knows you. If you were awake right now, you’d be easily swayed, your thoughts a mess and your mind easily malleable. This could ruin everything, everything he’s built here, everything he’s built for you, with you. You won’t look at him the same. Not like this morning. Not even like the weeks before, spent in harrowing isolation, flinching at his very presence. You’ll look at him like you would a monster; horrified.

But you aren’t awake. You are on the brink of death and he’s made next to no progress in your rescue. What a pitiful excuse he is. For all his power and influence, he can’t even protect you. He can’t even protect the very thing keeping him alive, the only person that showed a semblance of genuine love for him, even if it was hidden behind a hesitant and doubtful countenance. He was making progress. You were making progress.

“I am a murderer, as all gangsters are, but my reasons are just. I don’t need to explain them to someone such as yourself.” He laughs blithely. “Who did I kill that was so important to you?” He asks the same way one would ask for the time.

Snake Oil doesn’t answer.

“For you to come here, you must believe their death to be unjust. Who was it?” Giorno dwells on the thought for a second, deducing that these unknown variables must be closely related to this Stand’s user. “I can hardly recall their names, much less their faces. That begs the question: what did they do?” His smile grows, one-sided, as if knowing something his enemy does not. “I wonder… was it human trafficking? Narcotics?”

His only response is a glare, the Stand’s arm tightening around your neck like a noose. But, the Don head only cants to the side, testing the waters further.

“No matter. If I wasted time doing so myself, they must have deserved to die.”

It’s spoken like an irrefutable fact. An ultimate dismissal of human life, of their own autonomy. An insult to the memory of those Snake Oil held dearest. The words aren’t only indifferent, but spoken with implicit confidence. In the recesses of his mind, he knows what it is Giorno is trying to do. Rationale is snuffed out, replaced with righteous fury.

“You… you don’t deserve to speak of them. You know nothing.”

“Do I now?” The Don’s body relaxes, now knowing what the Stand is after. The investigation falls; the interrogation begins. “Ah, I remember.” His lips twitch into a cruel smile, enjoying the act of playing with this enemy’s feelings. To be ruled by one’s feelings, to the point of enacting revenge on a man you haven’t a chance of winning against — this Stand and its user wouldn’t make it in the world of gangsters for much longer. “A wife, and a….son was it? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? For revenge.” He tests the waters with a contemplative tone despite already knowing the answer, the Stand’s body language holding a tension and enmity it hadn’t moments before. “I don’t recall their faces or names, really, but I remember their screams. Your wife was groveling at my feet, begging for mercy. She had this look in her eyes — betrayal. You didn’t tell her your true profession, did you?” The Don’s lips twitch when Snake Oil falters, the latter’s eyes wide. “And your son… a prominent member in the very drug routes Passione aims to quell. I remember he tried to bargain with me, sell you out in exchange for my mercy.” Giorno laughs at the irony. To not even be trusted by your own family… “Like father, like son. He deserved to die.”

Snake Oil draws a sharp breath.

“And your daughter… such a sweet little thing. She didn’t understand what was happening.” He recalls with faint disinterest. “The look on her face was so tragic. I almost felt sorry for her. But she is related to you by blood, and scum can only breed scum.” An idea formulates, the words pressed past his lips as easily as breathing. “It’s a pity, though. She got away before I could…” He trails off, relishing in the way Snake Oil chokes pathetically on this information; his daughter… his only family is alive, somewhere, and... “I suppose I'll have to find her, take care of what I started." Giorno finishes.

“Shut up!” In his anger, Snake Oil’s grip tightens around your neck, squeezing at your already-suffocated veins. Giorno’s eyes flicker, taking note of the blackening nerves beneath your skin. “Don’t forget who’s in control here, Giovanna…!”

It’s all talk meant to rile him up, create an exploitable opening. Snake Oil refuses to fall into the trap, a ploy meant to keep him from enacting revenge. The words are heavy, a weight over his shoulders, but the Stand has you. While you should be dead by now from his ability, there are other ways to kill. Messier methods that he didn’t wish to stoop to, not until now. Giorno Giovanna, in all his sadistic glory, has dug a grave for his own beloved; an end truly befitting a monster such as himself.

“The pain I felt that day… you get to experience it now. You’ll pay for your sins in blood,” the Stand sneers, its expression full of countless years of pain. His gaze turns toward your unconscious body, his mind already concocting plans of a painful death. “Her blood.”

"You view me as a demon, but do you have the resolve to stoop to my level?" Giorno quips, his resolve quickly running thin. The air is tense, suffocating, but he can’t let his mask falter. It would mean the end to this. An end to you. An end to this paradise, this false Eden.

He’s not ready for that. Not yet. Not when you were finally...

“So sure of yourself, so confident…” Every word drips with malice, forced out from a dark place. Every syllable is a shot to Giorno’s heart, to his willpower, Snake Oil feels his goals shift, wanting nothing more than to prove Giorno wrong. That not everything can fall into place as he sees fit, that he isn’t as omnipresent as he believes himself to be. To see those calculating eyes widen in horror, knowing that he made a grave error.

It’s wishful thinking. Nothing in this world is that simple. If it were, Snake Oil’s family would still be by his side,and he wouldn’t be here, threatening an innocent girl with the displeasure of being involved with the worst scum society has to offer. He wouldn’t have had to stoop to the levels he did, likely disappointing those he cared for in the distant past. He wouldn’t have to stoop to Giovanna’s level and kill a blameless soul.

Monsters can only breed monsters.

Should the poison fail, so be it. It’s a messier death, a far less merciful one, but Snake Oil no longer has the capacity to care. How could he, after being taunted, when it was Giorno who was meant to be cowering away in anguish? The Stand’s grip around your limp body strengthens, intent on strangling out all signs of life. This is it, the final act of dishonor to end it all. Within a few seconds, you should be reduced to nothing but a corpse, a shadow of your former self, that sadistic light in Giovanna’s eyes long gone.

Time is at a standstill. It all happens in the blink of an eye.

At his torso, there’s a forceful shove that sends him sprawling backwards, air knocked from his lungs. Snake Oil lets out a shocked gasp, noticing the surprise on Giovanna’s own face; it’s clear he wasn’t expecting this turn of events, either. This attack… it couldn’t have been him. So that means you’re…

Before Snake Oil can dwell on his revelation, Gold Experience Requiem phases into the Stand’s field of vision, its speed unmatched and its strength beyond anything he’d prepared himself for. He knew death was coming should he mess up, should he let that monster creep under his skin. And yet, it still ends like this, a hole driven into his chest, just as it was meant to be. The pain is nothing new. The loss of everyone he’d ever cared about hurt far worse, but this… this is comforting. A release, a mercy. A promise that he will soon see his family, again.

The gentle wave that washes over him is short lived; the blow had sent him flying, his back pierced by a nearby rock. There’s pain, briefly, before it washes away all the same. Washes away into nothing. Death, he’s come to realize, feels like nothing, and yet everything all at once. Even death has a heart, it seems, a vague sense of clemency and calm that life lacks. All the memories of a time long past, all the regret and the pleasure that comes with living. Sweet memories, bitter memories… memories of his family, killed at the hands of a man who acts like a God dictating who should live and who should die. A God who slaughters innocents, under a false moral code. A God who locks away his own lover, as if her life means nothing; a God who looks at her the same way the stars admire the sun.

And yet, in Snake Oil’s last moments, that same God looks down at him the same way one would a fly before you kill it. The same insignificance, the same detachment. Like he meant never meant anything of value. And he realizes...

Death does not discriminate; life does.

Giorno gazes at the dying man with a look of vague disinterest, a sight he’s grown accustomed to. There’s no anger, no pity, no emotion. Those were stolen the moment your eyes snapped shut and your blood started rotting. Snake Oil will find no satisfaction in this squandered death, his life squelched out and amounting to nothing.

“Go to Hell. They’re waiting.”

The words fall from his lips so easily, so listlessly, without a shred of remorse. Snake Oil’s last moments are far from peaceful, those precious moments prior having lulled him into a false sense of security. They? Who are they? The Devil? His enemies? Or….

Realization hits. His blood has started to clot, and yet it boils with anger with indignant realization: he will go to Hell for his sins. He will go to Hell, and his family won’t be there. A sinner has no right of choice, only a punishment and its executioner. Even in these last moments, he’d hoped Giovanna would grant him the mercy of solace, the sympathy of a human rather than the malevolence of a monster. But that hope was misplaced from the start.

“Y...y-you’re a…. dem—”

But it’s too late. Snake Oil worked with diligence, but the devil works faster.

The storm has passed. The corpse, in its final moments, is gagging on thin air and it occurs to Giorno that its user is dying. Gagging on his own bile and vomit someplace far off, someplace Giorno can’t reach in his current state. If your life wasn’t in immediate danger, he’d hunt for the bastard himself, ensuring that his life has come to a permanent end. But you are more important. You will always be more important.

When he turns, he expects the worst. He expects to see your skin sallowed and your face sunken. He expects to see a lifeless husk, a goddess without the glow he’s come to admire. But that light is still there. You are still there, just as radiant as you were before your Eden was corrupted. The rise and fall of your chest is unmistakable, no matter how shallow your breathing may be. You’re alive. You’re alive, and Giorno’s legs nearly give out at the thought. Seeing you this close again, even as you cling to life, feels too good to be true. Giorno’s not sure who to thank, be it fate or having the devil’s own luck, but you’re still here. Still with him. This was too close to the chest. Pesky little details will be examined later, to ensure nothing like this ever has the chance to repeat. Security being tightened, loose ends removed… there’s an abundance of work to be done. For now, he allows himself to think only of you.

He’s by your side in an instant, checking your pulse and breathing. Gold Experience takes note of the movement beneath your wrist, pulsing as it should be, yet rapidly dimming. Any flesh wounds he can spot are immediately healed with a featherlight touch, fearing the unattended wounds may harm you further. He holds your limp body to his chest, gently trying to shake you back into consciousness. To bring you back to him.

“Let me see those gorgeous eyes of yours, amore.” His voice is so quiet and weak, it’s drowned out by the ocean waves. “I’ll be here as long as you need me. We need to finish our date, right? There’s still so much we have to do. I’ll clear my schedule, so just open your eyes and...”

He chokes, eyes wide with bitter tears. Your color is paling at an alarming pace, lips becoming a sickly blue. The flower he made earlier now looks out of place against your skin, its vibrant yellow petals so vivid in comparison — mocking you. Giorno chokes on his own spit; there’s no escaping it: you are dying, and he may as well be too. Giorno’s grip on you falters due to his own trembling, forcing him to steady you entirely against his chest. Every breath he takes is laboured, the weight of the world dragging him down. He’s seen this sight too many times before, and in his heart, he knows what this means. Without full knowledge of Snake Oil’s ability, there’s no way to treat whatever wounds were inflicted on you; he can only grasp at ideas from the previous encounter. It’d take hours to find and deliver the proper antivenom, and by then, it’d be too late. He knows this, and he hates himself for it. He hates his knowledge, his experience that allows him to come to this horrific conclusion. Giorno wishes he were a fool so he could delude himself into believing you’ll continue to live with him.

“You said you wanted a frog for a pet, didn’t you…? I’ll make as many as your heart desires, I swear it. So, please…” The words die at the back of his clenching throat. His entire life, he’s told himself that crying is useless. That it achieves nothing, a waste of time and effort. Action is always the best course, the only path that amounts to overcoming grief. It’s been the philosophy of his life, and yet; he kneels here on the verge of tears all the same. “Please, please, please…”

Another shake, more urgent than the last.

“I wanted—” he gulps back a telling lump forming in his throat, “I wanted to do so much with you. Cooking together is just the start, there’s so much more...” His voice is a low whine, like a child begging his parents for their time and affection. It’s a battle against time, a battle that he’s losing. “So much more…” His words are incomprehensible at this point, slipping from his mouth before he can gather himself. “I love you, [First]… I love you, I love you. Please, God…” The words are unschooled, said without thought — genuine. There has never been a moment in his life where he believed God to be real, not after everything he’s seen, not after everyone he’s lost. You can’t be another causality — he can't lose you too.

For the first time since he was a child, Giorno cries.

He cries for everything he put you through, for everything he took from you. Every wish you had, every dream he never got to hear. He stole them like his family stole his own. He promised to be better, a better man — someone who could change the world, someone with a good heart. Growing up, he wanted nothing more than to prove his parents wrong. His step-father, cynical and drunk and good-for-nothing. His mother, neglectful, always chasing a high, as if her own family was the lowest of the low. And his real father, his origins and identity unknown; a man who no doubt would not want to be part of Giorno’s life, his own son’s life. Giorno didn’t want to be like any of them, didn’t want to grow up to become a monster in the shape of a human. That sentiment feels hypocritical right now, having just lost his composure and temper. The remnants of a man’s own soul is not too far off, mangled and destroyed beyond recognition, its user dead on the shores of a monster who stole his family.

Giorno Giovanna is not a good man. His tears are more for you than anyone else; you truly did have the misfortune of meeting him. The Devil could drag him to Hell right now and his last thoughts would still be: “Let her go to Heaven.”

There’s a gradual change.

To the untrained eye, it might be too subtle to pick up on. Almost like a transparent sheen hovering just above your skin, a low hum of energy resonating alongside it. Giorno’s lip twitches as your complexion practically shines, eyes squinting to combat the light's growing strength. Too much is unfolding before him, a complex mystery where he remains in the dark. Snake Oil… he’s certain that Stand is no more. That’s when a chilling realization hits, like a bucket of ice being poured over him.

Gold Experience Requiem remains by his side, the Stand at the ready to attack as Giorno constructs a plan. Could Snake Oil have had a Stand that stays active upon death, like Notorious B.I.G? Giorno freezes at the thought, knowing full well the power a Stand like that would have. Hunting down its target for eternity. Did Snake Oil place an ability on you that triggered after death? In that case, precautions need to be taken to ensure you’re not placed under any further harm. There’s still a chance to save you; even Notorious B.I.G. had its flaws, no matter how terrifyingly powerful the Stand at first seemed.

But… something about it is off. The energy convulsing from you feels different, almost familiar. Warm and enveloping, unlike Snake Oil who conveyed nothing but bitterness and lost hope. What is this…?

The luxury of thinking is replaced by a raw desire to act, to salvage what little remains, not willing to patiently assess the situation any longer. Not after that’s what led to your possible death sentence in the first place. Divine light radiates around your limp body, and Giorno reaches out, prepared to fend off the perceived threat. His trembling hand inches closer to your iridescent skin, tingling at the sensation rolling from your person like a barrier, and then—

He’s flung back against the ground, as Snake Oil was before him. Gold Experience Requiem releases a fierce battle cry, lashing towards the presumed threat that envelopes you. Your person lets out a disgruntled noise at the attack, eyebrows twitching and body regaining itself. Cheeks flushing with color again, long eyelashes fluttering against your face. Rest is a coaxing concept, though something deep inside you commands that you wake.

Your eyes open.

Blood. Your vision is filled with a thick red, the beautiful blues and golds of the beach but a distant memory. The scene before you is a battlefield, its only remnants thick puddles of fresh blood. The liquid mars the beautiful beach sands, crimson revealing a story you weren’t meant to witness. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, dulling various areas that should be screaming out in pain. There’s too much to chew on, your thoughts in complete disarray. Your body feels prickly, vitality making a swift reappearance. And yet, there’s an unfamiliar pain at your chest, where Gold Experience Requiem’s hit landed. It’s dull, as if there is a layer of protection between your skin and the place the Stand’s fist had landed, but the very thought of Giorno hurting you, no matter the circumstance, has your mind reeling.

It doesn’t take long to piece together scattered pieces of the puzzle. In your delirium, you’d heard everything. It evokes disgust and shame, knowing you willingly went along with Giorno’s qualms. You had lost yourself, giving into him for frivolous comforts. He’s harmed too many, you’re not the only person to be on the receiving end of endless pain; you were just lucky enough to be on his good side. Morality and running a worldwide crime syndicate do not go hand and hand, no matter how many times Giorno tries to humanize himself to you. It’s all a facade.

This was all a mistake. You shouldn’t have come here, not so willingly, not with him.

“You’re a monster.”

A fact you’ve known for months now, and yet the words struggle past your teeth. A week ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated to say that and much worse to his face, relishing in the hurt that would momentarily cross his features. You had some semblance of power over him during those moments, using his twisted sense of love against him. You felt powerful, in control for once, having one of the most powerful men in the world grovel in wait for your affection. Before you, he wasn’t Don Giorno Giovanna, boss of Passione. He was just a boy, a psychopath, a man who had taken the world from you and expected your love in return.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last. He will always have the upper hand, some sort of control or advantage over you. You were a fool to think whatever you two possibly had — a relationship, if you could call it that — could work. Humans aren’t meant to be with monsters, and monsters aren’t meant to fall in love.

You realize that now.

“[First]...” For once, he’s speechless. Even saying that much is difficult. Gradually, he stands from the spot he’d been flung to, wearily making his way toward your crumpled body. His hand reaches out, shaking; were you slipping in and out of consciousness the entire time…? How much did you overhear? How much did you see?

“Don’t come closer!” You blink back tears, your vision focusing and unfocusing in the midst of it all. Your fingers, your hands, your… your body is glowing. The light is faint, weak, like the remnants of a flame before its wick gives out. “I-I… W-what happened? What happened to me?”

The puzzle pieces fall into place in his head. Giorno draws a sharp breath, his thoughts reeling to provide an explanation that won’t frighten you any further. In this state, you’re running on a high, coming down from the power your body has just awakened to. Having just defended yourself against a deadly venom, your body is running on pure adrenaline just to keep yourself upright. Your mind is reeling to rationalize what’s happening. Every nerve in your body felt like they were on fire, burning you up from the inside out. It’s as if you’re being overclocked, forced to work at full capacity, threatening to crash at any moment. Power rolls off your body in waves, as if it was meant to be there, as if it was there all along. And there’s an energy in your veins that feels wholly foreign, simultaneously yours and someone else’s at the same time. The ringing in your head is disorienting beyond compare; it feels as if your mind has been invaded, as if there is something else, someone else in your consciousness.

“What did you do?!” You don’t want to look at him, not in this moment, but the situation leaves you no choice. Your eyes flicker, briefly glowing with unadulterated rage when your gaze meets his. It couldn’t be possible, he couldn’t have… “You… you made me a monster just like you.”

“[First], I can explain everything, but you need to rest or—”

“No. God, I’m such a fool.” Your gut wrenches when you accidentally turn your gaze upon the battered corpse, its body mangled and face unrecognizable. Its heart hangs from its chest; you shudder to think what his human counterpart looks like. His death must have been painful, agonizingly slow — an end befitting a monster more so than a human. And he… he’s surrounded by a sea of blood — your husband is surrounded by a sea of blood.

“How could I forget? W-what you are…” Your eyes are fully glowing, pulsating with a holy energy when they meet his, but the sight is far from terrifying. You’re trembling. You’re crying. You’re pleading with him, just as you had when you first arrived on this island. You’re scared. “W-Will you do the same to me?”

His heart shatters.

Even now, as broken as you may feel, you cannot let yourself fall apart. If you break now, you won’t escape. He won’t let you escape. It will just be worse this time. You’ll always know the truth, the fact that countless lives have bloodied his hands — that he killed in cold blood then looked at you like your life is the only one worth keeping.

“You’ve already taken everything from me. You took my family from me. My friends. My life. My future. How am I any different from them? From any of the people you’ve hurt?” His expression wavers at your endless accusations, but he doesn’t defend himself and you take that as a confession to his sins. “That man was right. Do you remember all of them? All of your victims? All their faces? Their dreams and ambitions?” Air catches in your throat, realizing something the enemy had divulged; your family. They’d been… they’d been lied to, and that revelation does nothing to quell your anger.“What about their families? Are they still looking for them, too?” Your voice cracks, coinciding with your crumbling heart.

That’s right, your family looked for you. They searched for you; they mourned, they were betrayed. They think you’re dead, that you left without saying goodbye — without saying “I love you”. And you were deluded into thinking that everything was going so well, that you could forget, that you could start anew. You were happy, for once, for the first time in what felt like years. As close as you could get to happiness. Finally having set out on a path of healing, recovering pieces of yourself and putting them back together where no one else could. This illusion you allowed yourself to believe dissipates, the fog over your eyes lifting to reveal barren reality. A reality Giorno himself designed and held full control over, like a God, and you his sole obsession. If he is a God, he is cruel. To think otherwise is to be seduced by the enemy.

“You lied to me. You said I was safe here, that I could trust you.” Your voice breaks at that word — trust. What a pretty word, for such awful lies. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

Giorno gathers his senses, his head ringing with your hurtful words, his heart tired. He is losing you all over again; this is the only thing he can defend, as all your other accusations are more or less true. “[First], I had to. He was going to—”

“No. There’s never a good reason to murder, not when you have the power to stop them instead.” Your eyes flicker to Gold Experience Requiem, knowing full well of its powers. Giorno holds his tongue, realizing you’re right. He didn’t have to kill the enemy, not… not in front of you at least. Your eyes are not meant to see bloodshed or pain, and yet, he let his feelings get the better of him — and this is his price. “You didn’t have to, but you did. You killed him, Giorno. You killed him.” You can’t bring yourself to look at the corpse any longer. “That’s what monsters do.”

Each word stings more than the last.

He’s analyzing you. Mentally reciting and testing dozens of different explanations that might serve to placate you, even if it’s a temporary fix. Anything to get that stinging look of repulsion off your beautiful face, anything to make you look at him the way you did earlier. This is far more detrimental than the times you spoke down to him before now that a third party had been involved. The damage is already done, nature of himself that he tried to hide from you now out in the open.

There may be no coming back from this.

“You’ve been through a lot.” Giorno takes one step closer to you, stomach dropping when you flinch at the tentative action. All the progress has been undone, though he can’t mourn that now. He has to keep a straight face, lull you down this high filled with fear and adrenaline. Get under your skin again… make you trust him. “Come, let’s go inside. You must feel tired.”

“No. No, no, no, you liar. You’ve put me through a lot,” you correct with a weak glare, holding your hand to your chest. The same hand that had finally come to accept him just minutes prior. Recalling his touch makes you want to scrub the skin raw, knowing how bloodied they were. “Just… stay away from me, p-please.” Your demands sound more like pleads, the shock of your new abilities still paralyzing your system. Your wings encircle you still, their transparent silhouette coursing with a power you know not what to do with. Their presence alone makes you feel safe, a much needed barrier between you and him. It even withstood a direct attack from Giorno’s own Stand…

The possibility of escaping is becoming frighteningly real.

Giorno withdraws his outstretched hand, not wanting to scare you any further. It’s clear you don’t want to listen to him right now, and he’s not sure he wants to continue persuading you; the trembling of your body, the look on your face, like a frightened doe — you’re scared of him. The same girl that had looked at him with hesitant admiration, that had played with him, that had gotten to know him, that had kissed him — she’s gone, and some deep, hateful part of him knows she won’t ever come back. He’s walking on eggshells again and he knows it. In the terrified state that you’re in, there won’t be any deescalation. You’ve seen too much, know too much. It’s troublesome, too many factors at play to safely talk this out. There’s still the problem of your safety, and monitoring your body for any further repercussions from the earlier Stand attack. Giorno considers all of this, and with a silent sigh, makes a swift decision on how to best fix this. More roadblocks are set in the path of recovery, but he’s determined to see this through. That’s how he’s always been, and how he’ll always be until the day he draws his final breath. You are no exception; you never will be. Not when everything he does is wholly for you.

You realize something is amiss when he doesn’t respond any further to your pointed accusations. Normally, you’d see a flicker of hurt flit across his features — the only time he ever lets his guard down, even slightly, is with you. That’s not the case now, not after everything you’ve heard, everything you’ve seen. Lips parting, you’re about to inquire what it is he’s plotting, but by then it’s far too late. From the blood by your feet, roots start to form at the base, coming to life by Gold Experience Requiem’s ability. An unidentifiable substance leaks from them, sapping away at the remnants of your consciousness like parasites. It acts as a salve, soothing the snake bite on your neck and the skin covering your blackened veins, but its true purpose is far from that, meant to constrain you, to confine you. It’s a terrifying sight, being restrained by vines tainted in the blood of a dead man, being restrained by an entity that had made you gifts and brought you joy only minutes prior.

He’s using his ability on you.

Gold Experience Requiem, an entity that had excitedly made you a crown to place atop your head, looks almost distraught as he covers you from head to toe, confines you like his user has for as long as you can remember. They are one and the same, you realize; how foolish it was to believe this man was capable of anything but tragedy. You had been charmed by pretty lies fashioned to ensnare you for eternity. His words, his actions, everything about him was a lie — a forbidden fruit.

Standing becomes too arduous a task, your body crumpling to the ground in a pathetic show of weakness. The world around you grows blurry, your eyelids fighting to remain open only to lose and sink into the sweet call of sleep. Everything feels so far away. The call of the birds, the crashing of the ocean… even the sand that rubs against your skin doesn’t register. The only thing that does is the look on his face, so unlike the monstrous, dissociated expression he had when he took a man’s life before your eyes. Even that, all the pain, dread, betrayal, it’s all slipping away, to some place you cannot reach. Not anymore. The light that stems from your back flickers, the remnants of your holy wings shattering like fragments of glass. Giorno approaches you as the disorientation continues and your Stand deactivates, having protected you long enough. He wants nothing more than to take its place as your savior, your protector, his arms reaching out to catch and prevent your body from further harm. You’ve been through enough. You were right; he’s put you through enough.

As consciousness fades, you hear the Devil whisper one final promise.

“I’ll fix everything, just give me time.”

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syelies · 3 years

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#36 MidaSaya? thanks!

Thanks anon! Again, sorry for the wait;; Here's another MidaSaya! This may be the prequel of the one prompt before this but maybe not.

Prompt: “I wish I could hate you.”

“You might die.”

“Let’s get on with it then.”

Sayaka frowned, watching the short-haired girl – barely – sitting on the edge of the classroom window.

Three level drops might not much, but many things could happen during the fall. And with how careless the girl sat on it, it most likely she would fall in the most haphazard way.

Or maybe that was exactly what she wanted?

“Alright, suit yourself,” the Secretary shrugged, swallowing the uneasy feelings, and sat on the nearest chair to the other girl. She eyed the vacant classroom – their classroom – where their other classmates immediately rushed out the door; not wanting to have any affair with the Student Council members.

Glancing back at the other, she asked, “Where’s your lunch, anyway?”

They’ve been eating together at lunch breaks, it seemed. Filling in each other’s emptiness caused by people they both couldn't reach.

“Dunno. Where’s yours?”

“Didn’t bring”

Midari rose her eyebrow at her.

It was strange, indeed. A flaw in her routine. Where the Igarashi Sayaka didn’t bring her only nutrition source of the day, intentionally or not.

Something caused it, obviously. Something Sayaka wasn’t willing to share, something Midari couldn’t bring herself to care.

“We could eat each other out, if you wanna,” Midari said, licking her lips.

Sayaka scrunched her face in disgust. “Gross.”

The Secretary stood up and stepped closer to the window, right beside the one-eyed girl.

“Oh? You don’t wanna do it here, huh? Aight, my house is open!” Midari winked – or blinked? – at her.

“I swear, Ikishima. I’m going to throw you out of the window myself you– what are you doing?”

“Checking how high it’ll be when I fall.” Midari leaned back by holding the window edge as she observed the ground below her. “Not much, but I’mma take it.”

Panic rose up inside Sayaka watching her. “Ikishima!” She unconsciously yelled while her hands pulled the other’s upper arms closer to her. So that now they were face to face, close.

Midari smirked, widely. “Aw! So, you care ‘bout me!”

“Nonsense. I hate you.” The Secretary let go of her grips and tried to draw away. But she couldn’t. Not when the latter’s legs bended around her, keeping her in place.

“Uh huh, sure.” Hugging the lean shoulders before her, Midari pulled the violet-haired girl closer with both her arms and her legs.

Sayaka felt heat rising up her face at the proximity. “I-I mean it,” was what she said. Though, she didn’t make any effort to move away.

“You don’t”

The warm breath against her lips made Sayaka stuttered even more. “I-I d-do.”

Midari widened her grinning lips. “If you do, you wouldn’t be here in the first place, you know. Without em lunch and all.”

The entire of Sayaka’s face burned at that.

She was right. She was right, but, “I-i wish I could hate you, though,” Sayaka replied in a soft voice.

“Tch, go away,” Midari said, pulling even closer.

“You are holding me, you fool.”

“So mean– gah!” Wrong movement, with how her body accidentally leaning further back; almost pulled the Secretary into the land beneath her.

“Ah!” Sayaka immediately wrapped her arms around the other girl’s waist and pulled her back inside until they both dropped onto the floor.

For a moment, they just sat there, processing what on earth just happened.

“T-that was close.” The Secretary lied her back on the floor, contemplating all the decisions of her life until now.

In stark contrast with Midari, who relishing the thundering pulse on her ears. “Fuck, let’s do it again! Even 160 km/h couldn’t beat that shit!”

Not wanting to repeat whatever just happened, Sayaka changed the subject. “Motorcycle?”

Luckily, the black-haired girl’s attention was quick to be changed as well. “Hell yeah! Wanna see?” She turned her gaze towards the lying girl.

Sayaka weakly shook her head. “No thanks, I’m good”

“Too bad! I already mark the planner!” Midari laughed, loudly. “Plus, it’s a date!”

Never mind, it was worse.

Once more, Sayaka regretted her decision.

Or so, she thought.

#kakegurui #sayaka igarashi #midari ikishima #midari x sayaka #drabble #ask #anonymous #shieru scribes

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phoenotopia · 4 years

Text

2020 October Update

So... we've launched. And our launch was... actually kind of... bad...

This is a dev blog, so I'll speak on it. But before that, we do have the game's steam page up. If you're anticipating the PC release, please do visit the steam page and add it to your wish list. It would help us a lot.

VISIT STEAM LINK

...

So what didn't go so well?

1. We launched in Nintendo's Americas and Europe territory. If you've been following the release, you'd know that America got the game first. We didn't move to launch in Europe at all since I thought the EFIGS languages (English, French, Italian, German, Spanish) were pre-requisites for Europe. By the time I learned that this wasn't necessarily the case, and attempted to course correct, the damage was done. We had half the allotment of keys to do outreach, and maybe some European outlets that would've covered us, did not.

2. When the game launched, rather than a victory lap, what we experienced was more of a public lashing. We did get some reviews that praised the game highly, but just as many reviews lampooned the game for its high difficulty or other failings. I've since released two patches (or 3, depending on how you count it) to address the difficulty. A lot of overnighters. If you recall in the last blog post, I thought it'd be a good start if we got 20 or so reviews on Open Critic. But we've only 8 as of this writing, and the aggregate score isn't so hot. So that's a fail by my metric.

3. A publisher reached out to us because they were interested in physically printing the game! Yay! But... to advance our talks, they wanted to see the game's sales numbers to ensure that there's a good chance their investment could be recouped. And unfortunately, the game's sales numbers are pretty low. They backed out :(

Some hard lessons were learned. The biggest lesson for me concerns how well we playtested the game. Looking at the original playtester list, it's a short list. You may recall from a previous blog post that our ability to test was severely hampered by technical limitations. Add to that, a lot of people on this list are objectively really achieved players. We're talking power ranked in Smash Bros, regular tournament goers, and people who've played and bested every Souls game. And as the maker of the game, I am most blind to the game's challenges.

Now, I'm definitely more of the opinion that you prioritize PC development first. I still have some reservations about some stages of PC development. But if you do PC/Steam first, you have the great benefit of being able to do Early Access, which gives you access to a greater testing pool. I now view it as an invaluable part of the equation. If we had been able to do Early Access for 1 or 2 months before release, we probably could have ironed out most of the game's difficulty and balance problems. Hard lessons, indeed.

There were a lot of other notable events that occurred over the past 2 months - the travails of press outreach, realizing my own limits as a developer, feeling defeated and getting back up again, etc. There's too much stuff to chronicle or go into detail. But it wasn't all bad.

Some good things did happen...

We got a publisher to publish for Japan! It came as a huge relief, because clearly, we don't know what the heck we're doing.

The publisher has been an invaluable source of information and feedback. They've recommended some changes to the game to improve user experience. Some of these changes I was hesitant to do at first because they concerned systems I thought integral to the identity of the game. But after trying it, I have to admit, they're good changes.

So a Japanese version of the game was moving ahead. And it looked like that'd be it. I wasn't planning to move forward with any other language translations due to the game's low sales and our funds being depleted.

But, I was approached by a translator who urged me to move ahead with translations. He told me he was willing to work for only a small price initially and then be paid the rest after from a percentage of the game's sales until the cost of the translation was paid in full.

I was surprised translators were willing to work under such a model since it's entirely likely the game's current low sales trajectory would continue and they wouldn't earn back the full cost of translation. But I was also flattered they were willing to take a risk with me. After that, I approached some others with the same hypothetical deal, and long story short, we're now moving forward with French, German, Spanish, Portuguese and Russian translations. As for why these languages in particular, they were languages for whom I had contacts (because they reached out to me at some point in the past). And also because they were deemed more likely to be profitable based on their home country's gaming market/buying habits. I'd be personally happy to have my native language be represented, but it's not expected to be a profitable territory. But if the game does better in the future, it may justify the costs of translation. There could be a chance!

The plan right now is to get the game supporting these first round of languages and then to patch that into the Switch version as well as launch the PC version with these languages - all in December. A lot of things need to align for this to occur, so a delay isn't out of the question. It'll be busy... I'll update the blog again in latter half of December, probably near the game's PC launch date... OR to announce a delay. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

Fan Support

While the past two months have been grueling, one good thing remains constant - fan art! Thank you everyone who submitted. It means a lot to me and the team!

Big thanks to Pimez who's taken on watching over the reddit community as moderator. He also combs the other communities and makes sure I see every new art piece. Despite juggling his own life and all these tasks, he still found some time to draw.

Pimez's piece reminds us that just because the new game's out doesn't mean we can't still celebrate the original flash game. The jail dog is a dog found only in jail and only in the flash game. I imagine Gail is just tossing a stick, and they're playing fetch.

A new artist to this scene æv draws both the Phoenix logo AND a super cute picture of Gail playing the flute. So precious, you want to pinch her cheek. Even the Sand Drake is enthralled!

Another new artist, beet4ppy arrives on the scene with two pictures! One features a no-nonsense battle-hardened Gail looking stoic and tough! Kinda reminds me of Vinland Saga actually. The other, a more cheerful group composition - I must say I'm a big fan of Fran's classic anime-style eye!

A returning artist, Cody G, returns with a picture depicting the tribulations of cooking. Gotta love Gail's frantic expression! I've heard the complaints, which is why we've added an option to slow the cooking mini-game down. An improved button font is also on the way.

Gamesing with two undertale x phoenotopia crossovers. Thomas being a robot builder makes sense taking a role similar to Alphys. But why is Alex dressed like a clown? Perhaps there is a hidden meaning here...

A new artist, Warotar, draws both a pooki wearing Gail's clothes and Gail wearing pooki clothes. Awww. The pooki is a bit scary - it kinda reminds me of a tragic event in a certain anime. But the Gail is adorable!

POL#5655 submitted this one to KM's discord which made its way to me. Here, a stylized Gail appears unnerved by the dark red eyes stalking her in the background. Are they bats or something more sinister?

A new artist, MilesCPW, arrives on the scene with three rare well-vectorized arts! Love it! One scene depicts Gail balancing a bomb on her head - that's a speedrunning trick I only learned about recently after someone emailed me a video O_O

The other drawing gives us new insight into Katash - he could actually look cute if he wasn't trying to kill you.

And the bees... Okay, this one got a chuckle from me :D

A returning artist roccy_chair draws this heart-warming scene from the beginning of the new game. Aww. Mika doesn't get much screen time for story reasons, so it's nice to see her represented.

UnrealWorld_32 returns with another drawing of Gail in Panselo, this time capturing a more idyllic time. I like the tranquil nature of this piece. And Gail does in fact play the guitar, denoted by the guitar in her room.

Returning artist shafiyahh draws a nice portrait of Prince Leo - looking regal and princely. I like the storybook art style of this piece. It made me immediately think of "the Little Prince" - one of my favorite books actually!

Negativus Core returns with a beautiful group composition of Gail and the gang - flying from a Switch shaped window - totally sensible considering the game is only Switch right now. As usual, I'm impressed by Negativus Core's use of challenging angles to frame a more dynamic shot of the characters. Great job!

And it wasn't only artists bearing the banner. I'd like to give a big shoutout to everyone in all the game's little communities (from the reddit to the discords to this tumblr). I've seen this community help newcomers with gameplay and walkthrough advice, discussions, updating the wiki, and so on. It does bring a smile to my face. Thank you everyone!

#phoenotopia

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saint-cichol-is-watching · 4 years

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do you have any fic recs or hc recs from someone (or maybe if u wrote smth like this before) w mammon and a sick mc cos rn km feeling like yaknow really shit and idk how to look for anything like this, maybe ur followers could help if u can't yaknow u just need refs pls

So I have headcanons with a sick MC and the brothers having a child but this ends up with MC dying so I wouldn’t recommend that one. I don’t know if anyone has done it yet, funnily enough since I avoid the tag I rarely read any headcanons (I need to follow more writers please gimme) but I decided to whip you up some small headcanons to possibly help you feel better !

EDIT : These were supposed to be small...I got excited.

—

Mammon took a lot of time to realize you were sick.

He barged into your room screaming for you to wake up and saying something about gaining some big money and taking you out to eat.

He then saw in your bed, your sheets covering the majority of your body. In fact the only thing he could see was the tip of your nose, which was looking a bit red weirdly enough.

“MC wake up I’m taking ya out to eat” He repeated.

Wriggling to get out of your comfortable cocoon of warmth, you let your head poke out and look directly in his eyes before telling him you were not coming.

“EH ? WHY? I gain big time last night you gotta come ! Ya realize this is a one time opportunity that the Great Mammon offered to ya right? Now come on I want to–”

“Mammon I’m not coming I’m sick !” You exclaimed sniffling turning around your bed so you could stop facing him.

Sick you said ? Ah right, now that you said it it’s true you looked a bit like sh-

“Haha you are ? Tch humans are so weak” He said but you realized he had taken a step back from you “Anyway MC don’t cha worry the Great Mammon is gonna take good care of ya”

You didn’t say anything, there was no way you were going to stop him from doing so. You knew Mammon as long as it was about you he would do anything anything included taking care of a sick person...thing he would normally never do.

A few moments passed and you realized that not only Mammon hadn’t moved a bit but you could also feel his eyes piercing through your back.

“What is it Mammon?” You said.

You could your voice sounding a bit irritable which made you feel guilty. But you just wanted to rest... Without anyone peeping at your face.

“So um how do ya take care of a sick human ? Not that the Great Mammon doesn’t know of course it’s just—”

You turned around to look at him and you saw him blushing behind his sunglasses, avoiding your glare at all costs.

‘That totally seems like the attitude of a guy who how to take care of a human’ You thought as a smile creeped up on your lips. He was always so cute.

“*sigh* So first of all I have a big headache and I might have some fever so I need something to keep the fever down, a wet clothe or a cold compress is already good, I also have medications for headache in my drawer can you get them for me ? With a glass of water so I can swallow it. Also I might need something hot so a tea would be nice. With some honey in it to help with the sore throat!”

You could clearly see Mammon loose all of his composure as you talked. He couldn’t believe a simple human could need all of this for a simple cold but nevertheless you saw him walk towards the drawer you indicated, search a bit and get out out some medicine.

He showed it to you and you nodded.

“What’s next?” He asked.

Of course Mammon would not remember everything so you repeated : “Cold compress, water and tea with some honey”.

He disappeared out of the room for a second then came back in holding a towel dripping with water, softly put it on your head not realizing that the bed was clearly wet by now then looked at you again for his next instruction.

“Glass of water” You chuckled and Mammon disappeared once more.

He came back gave you the drink and the medicine and made sure you drank it before going downstairs to brew you some tea.

You heard a big ruckus a some point. Which you deduced was coming from Mammon who had ended up burning his hand with the hot tea.

He came into your room mumbling something that sounded a lot like “damn tea hurting my hand when I just want to impress MC—” which he immediately stopped when he saw you were looking curiously at him.

Once again he carefully watched over you as you drank his tea, smirking slightly when he heard you moan pleasantly at how good his tea was.

“Anything else ya need MC?” He asked and you shook your head ‘no’ “Well if there is anything... You call me not any of my stupid brothers all right?”

This time you nodded, barely suppressing the smile that had made it’s way on your face. Mammon was really cute wasn’t he?

He stayed for a second looking at you in silence, waiting for you to say something but you did catch on it so he started walking away and before he passed the door he somehow gathered all of his courage and turned towards you.

“Should I stay with you ?” He asked and by seeing the face he made after these his words you came to the conclusion he didn’t even think before talking “N-Not that I want to it’s just that...it might make you feel better...yeah that’s right human like affection hen they’re sick right ?!” He tried to say

“I may need a hug to fall asleep” You said with a fake weak voice.

But the bluff seemed to pass over his head since his lips extended into a big smile (that he immediately tried to hide from you).

“Aight then, if ya really want to I guess I have no choice scoot over and let the Great Mammon give ya a big warm hug” He said “But not too warm we don’t want your fever to go up again”

“See you’re already doing better at taking care of humans ! You know how fever works” You teased as you snuggled up to him “However you know nothing about how viruses spread but it’s okay I like a little stupid, it gets me hugs and love”

“S-Shut up” He muttered not even daring to look at your face.

You chuckled a bit and settled down ready to fall again covered by his comfortable warmth.

“Thanks Mammon” You whispered already loosing consciousness “for taking of me”

Mammon watched your eyes close and your torso heaving up and down then smiled and hugged a little closer:

“My human” He said out loud a smug smile on his face.

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 264: You Either Die a Hero...

Previously on BnHA: The kids of 1-A sat around waiting for something exciting to happen, and then it did happen, and they were all “!!” Over on the front lines, the heroes charged the Ol’ Villain Hotel with poor Kaminari crying the entire time, but we’ll excuse him since he is only in the second grade. Tokoyami gave him some gentle encouragement by reminding him of how hard he can slappa da bass, while Midnight told him to think of his one true love in order to find his inner courage, so he immediately thought of Jirou and everyone was like WHOA DID THEY REALLY JUST, and yeah, they kind of did? Anyway so Cementoss ripped the building open and Kaminari got all Thor on us and started battling this other electric guy, and then we cut to Hawks and Twice, who were having a friendly conversation similar to the friendly conversation Hawks had with Best Jeanist on the very same day that Jeanist abruptly went missing and was never heard from again! Hey, wait a second. You guys don’t suppose...??

Today on BnHA: Re-Destro gathers in the basement with all his followers and they’re all like “Re-Destro!!” and he’s all “what??” and they’re all “the heroes are attacking!!” and he’s all “:) :) :) the fuck??!” Outside, the heroes continue to wreak havoc, and between Edgeshot, Midnight, Honenuki and Toadette, I’m pretty sure they have actually killed some of these guys. But that’s silly though because heroes would never actually kill someone. Speaking of heroes not killing someone, back in the hotel, Hawks is all “(Ò‸Ó)” and Twice is all “(இ‸இ)” and then Hawks is all “I’m gonna arrest you but I’ll help you get through this and get back on your feet again afterwards because you’re a good person” and Twice is all “WHAT THE FUCK NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN” and does the whole Sad Man Parade thing. And Hawks is all “I don’t want to fight you!” and Twice is all “TOO BAD” and meanwhile Dabi is running up the stairs all “time to start some shit” and then the chapter ends. So while I’m relieved on behalf of Hawks’s soul, I can’t help but be a little concerned on behalf of his, uh, life. Shit.

okay, so! I finally have time to read this damn thing. but before I start, a couple of holdover thoughts from the prior chapter!

firstly, I want to go on the record now and say that I’ve decided once again that Hawks, in spite of all appearances, is not a murderer. you hear that Hawks. I’m putting my neck on the line for you. gonna look like a real stooge if you go and murder Twice before going on to fight Dabi to the death while we cut to Noumu!Jeanist taunting Bakugou

but in all seriousness, I just can’t reconcile it with what we know of Hawks’s character. his behavior during the fight against Hood almost got him exposed because he couldn’t bear to let anyone get hurt or to let Endeavor get killed. I know the HPSC got their claws in him at a young age, but in spite of that I don’t think he’s harboring a dark side. to me he always just comes off as tired and struggling to do the right thing even though he never asked to be put into this kind of position. he’s smart enough to understand the whole “needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few” thing, but he’s also young enough to still hold to a certain idealism, and juuust cocky enough to have faith in his own cleverness and convince himself that he can somehow achieve this mission without sacrificing anyone else’s life

so in short, I don’t buy the dark!Hawks theories. I just can’t. but I guess we’re about to see! and my guess is that Horikoshi will probably have Dabi interrupt before Hawks can reveal his hand either way, because Horikoshi is just like that. what a troll

(ETA: I forgot that sometimes Horikoshi also likes to troll by giving you exactly what you want but in the most painful way possible. shit.)

now, moving on, the other thing I wanted to quickly address is Viz’s translation of this very important line from last week! so as a reminder, here is readheroaca’s version

and here is Caleb’s

I’m actually really glad I’ve been reading the fan translations first, because it made me more aware of the potential nuances in this scene. so is KamiJirou actually being confirmed here, or not?? and I spent 20 whole minutes digging into this more the other day because I have no life, so here are my findings!

first, here is the actual Japanese panel

and while I don’t speak Japanese, I can read hiragana well enough that I was able to plug it into a couple of translators to basically figure out what was being said. so here’s the full dialogue:

どこかの誰かじゃ

難しいなら --

今一番大事なものを

心に据えな

so the part in bold there is the line in question -- 大事なもの (daijina mono). “daiji” means “precious” or “important”, but the thing is, “mono” for whatever reason is written in hiragana and not kanji. and the word mono (which can be singular or plural btw) can hilariously mean either of the following depending on the kanji used:

lmao. so basically the bottom line is that from what I can see here, Horikoshi purposely didn’t specify! now I could be completely wrong; maybe this is a common enough expression that Caleb felt comfortable deciding that he meant “person.” or maybe he just guessed based on the context. or maybe he just said “fuck it, you only live once” and just went there because why the heck not

anyway, so that was fun, and for me it reinforced the fact that I really do prefer to have at least two different translations to compare in order to get the most complete picture of what exactly is going on here in this stupid manga that I obsess over week after week! so now let’s finally get to reading this thing

oh my

I have so many thoughts whirling around in my head right now, such as “oh my god look at all these secret entrances/exits the villains apparently had” and “wow the heroes are so thorough” and such, but ngl, right now the biggest one is “why are they all entering so slowly??” seriously though. let’s just gradually meander on in single-file. no rush. meanwhile 800m northwest and 1 km east, Cementoss is literally tearing the building in half and the other heroes are charging full speed all “ARGGHHHHH.” and over in Jakku, Miruko kicked a door open so hard it killed a guy. but we’ve all got our own styles I guess??

at least this one guy 800m north of the hideout is doing some doorbusting. sheesh. be more exciting please

oh hey it’s this place

behold. the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf. well there’s an eye-opener and no mistake

LMAO THESE GUYS DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING YET OMG

oh my god. first of all wtf is that shirt. and second of all oh my fucking god, let me just shut up and read this is amazing

SDKLFJLSJK

LMAO

oh man. Re-Destro is one of the few characters whom I really want to see die. come on Horikoshi. don’t be a fucking coward. he’s had it coming ever since he killed that little mouse. and let’s not forget Giran. JUSTICE FOR GIRAN

oh we’re actually cutting back to this fight!

I wasn’t sure if we would! shounen authors have this habit of showing the start of a really cool battle only to then cut away to a bunch of other stuff and leave us hanging for a dozen chapters, so yeah. of course, that may still happen. I’m just lucky that I’m invested in virtually every single thing that’s going on right now, so it’s a win-win for me no matter where we cut to next

(ETA: lmao there really wasn’t much more to this fight to speak of. but what do you want to bet Horikoshi will try to pull this shit with Dabi and Hawks next week though.)

holy shit

this looks like when I attempt to build a gingerbread house. that’s uncanny

lmao Kami

YOU’RE DOING GREAT BUDDY. KEEP IT UP CHAMP

(ETA: Kaminari’s ridiculous smiling face is the balm we all need in these troubled times. tempted to ask him if he wouldn’t mind heading up to that telenovela happening over in Twice’s room and telling them all to lighten the fuck up.)

Lefty is all “does he have an absorption quirk?” because apparently he’s one of the two people that never watched the U.A. Sports Festival? how does anyone in this day and age manage to come across one of the 1-A kids and not know what their quirks are. and you’re a fucking general or whatever too, aren’t you? god you suck

so now he’s all “I BET YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO HANDLE... A FEW MILLION VOLTS” jesus christ. I bet you he can! but still, that’s awfully murdery of you. and to think, he’s on your side!! Kaminari are you really sure you want these guys as your friends

YOOOOOOO FUCKING KAKASHI ALL UP IN HERE DOING HIS HUMAN YONDU ARROW THING WHAAAAT

straight up prepared to be massively disappointed in Viz when they inevitably translate the “Ninpo” part instead of leaving it alone and letting everyone bask in these sentimental Naruto vibes. and also ngl I prefer for Edge’s lines to be as close to the original as possible so I can better imagine them in my head. stupid sexy Edgeshot

holy shit “I’ve pierced a small hole in each of your lungs” !!? WELL ALL RIGHT THEN, YOU SADISTIC WARRIOR OF THE NIGHT. YOU HEARD HIM BOYS. I’M SORRY, BUT HE’S ALL OUT OF FUCKS TODAY

OH HEY Y’ALL, MIDNIGHT HEARD YOU WERE KICKING ASS AND DECIDED TO JOIN IN, HOPE THAT’S ALL RIGHT

and if it’s not all right, well. tough

can you imagine. you’re just a simple villain, chilling out in your Hilton Garden Inn HQ and minding your own business when all of a sudden the walls come to life and some fucking shinobu busts a small hole in your lungs, and then you just fall asleep. sometimes life comes at you hard

now Kamui Woods is doing his whole Lacquered Chain Prison thing, but we’ve already seen that one so I’m not gonna bother showing it! tough break Kamui!!

OH MY GOD IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS

HALF OF THESE PEOPLE ARE ALREADY UNCONSCIOUS WITH HOLES IN THEIR LUNGS, SO SURE, HONENUKI, LET’S GO AHEAD AND FUCKING DROWN THEM TOO LMAO

LOOOOOOL OH CHRIST

CLASS 1-B WITH NO REGARD FOR HUMAN LIFE!!!

LMAO AND NOW SHE’S STANDING WITH HER ARMS UP OVER HER HEAD ALL SMILING LIKE ERI AT THE FUCKING CONCERT. A COLD GOD IN AN UNCARING UNIVERSE. WHAT THE FUCK

oh shit everybody shut up we’re cutting back to Hawks!!

but you pulled it off because you’re so damn smart. so now let’s stand around and explain your plan to everyone. what the fuck, Hawks

(ETA: and the thing is, now I’m thinking that by “incredibly difficult” he doesn’t mean that it was the cipher part that was difficult lol. that part was child’s play. any simpleton could do that. no, the difficult part was betraying his new friend. anyway so how’s everyone doing? what a fun chapter!!)

hey everyone I still have unwavering faith that this man is not a killer just FYI

what does that say about me I wonder. let’s just completely ignore everything being presented on screen here. also what the heck happened to all this furniture? did he upend the entire room with his crazy feather attack, or is that damage from Cementoss’s shenanigans?

HAHA!! FUCK YEAH

I KNEW YOU WEREN’T A KILLER YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!!

fuck yeah. of course, I realize that by betraying Twice so harshly like this, Hawks has still found himself on lots of people’s shitlists. but I would just like to put out a friendly reminder that Twice, despite being the nicest and most loyal guy you will ever meet, is still a terrorist who was going to kill a lot of people because he’s friends with a guy who wants to destroy the entire world. so basically there’s just no clean way out of this and it’s all very tragic

but anyway if it’s any consolation, I fully expect Dabi to turn up in the very next panel and be all “BLARGH! IT’S ME!” before we commence with the single sexiest battle in this manga to date

lmao Horikoshi. “but before we get to the sexy battle let me just twist that knife up in there real good!” jesus

friendly reminder that despite all appearances, Hawks is still objectively the good guy in this scenario. anyways for real, how are we all doing this afternoon. how many death threats has my bird son gotten today. I’m afraid to check. poor Twice is so trusting and I really hate to see him cry like this, poor baby. but I’m sure it’s also tearing Hawks up inside as well but we’re just not seeing it

and here we have Hawks, about to unleash his Mangekyou Sharingan

“are you sure you don’t think this sinister maniac looming in the shadows with the deranged look in his eyes is a ruthless killer, makeste?? are you really sure?” Horikoshi asks while pouring every last inch of malice he can into a single chilling panel

and yes, you bastard. I am sure. fuck you, how long are you going to make me sit here looking like a complete ass. look, we get it!! either way, Hawks is clearly a compelling actor! but the question is, which one is really the false face? is it the smiling, easygoing Hawks who always seems to have a faint hint of sadness in his eyes? or is it this menacing figure stripped of all mercy? is it really so crazy to go ahead and say that it’s the latter? huh?? [pokes Horikoshi in the chest] huh?????

anyway so Twice seems to slowly be progressing his way from despair to anger, which is probably not good. heh. fuck

maybe I was wrong about Dabi showing up and saving Twice, maybe his arrival will actually save Hawks instead lmao

anyway Hawks is still being all cold and creepy, and he’s all “you have my thanks.” and Twice is still crying, so maybe he’s still more sad than angry. well this is starting to drag out now though so if a certain spicy flame boi wants to make his grand entrance now, he’s welcome to do so anytime

oh shit Hawks is throwing me a bone!!! yessssss

YOU SEE!! THE SAD LOOK. HE DOESN’T WANT TO DO THIS. HE’S A GOOD BOY. oh my god I just realized how tense I was. hahaha what is this chapter

FINALLY OMG

NOOOOO I THOUGHT IT WAS DABI SNEAKING UP BEHIND HIM. OH MY GOD I CAN’T. WAS THIS HORROR MOVIE SERIAL KILLER ANGLE REALLY NECESSARY THEN, HORIKOSHI. WHAT THE FUCK

TWICE SHUT UP YOU ARE DIGGING YOUR OWN GRAVE!!!

fuck!!! this is why I was so sure he was going to die! because he won’t go quietly; he’s not the type to ever betray his friends. to him the League are basically the only family he’s ever known, so of course he’s not going to just be all “okay sure I’ll go to prison and let you reform me”

so then what, Hawks?? you didn’t fucking think this through you stupid kind-hearted punk!

sob!!!!

is that one of Hawks’s feathers slicing open the mask. sing it with me guys. to the tune of Jingle Bells: fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck

OH MY GOD NOOOOO

I WEIRDLY WANT TO COVER MY EYES LOL OH GOD. I DON’T WANT THIS BUT I CAN’T LOOK AWAY HELPPPPP

FUCK ME, IT’S REALLY HAPPENING. HE COULDN’T BRING HIMSELF TO KILL HIM AND NOW HE’S SCREWED HIMSELF AND EVERYONE ELSE OVER, FUCK

FOR FUCK’S SAKE HAWKS YOU COULD HAVE JUST KNOCKED HIM OUT THEN!! YOU JUST HAD TO GO AND FUCKING TRY TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF. DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED IN DEIKA CITY, HAWKS. DO WE REALLY WANT A REPEAT OF THAT. SURE, WE’VE GOT CLASS 1-B OUT IN THE BACKYARD MORE THAN READY AND WILLING TO KILL ANY NUMBER OF BITCHES BECAUSE THAT’S HOW THEY DO, BUT STILL

oh shit!?!

lol excuse me are you really just going to end it there? fucking seriously. Dabi running up the stairs with the crazy eyes while Hawks regretfully thinks of himself and his side as “hero scum”?? fff

and that last part! holy shit! again, I don’t buy into any of the dark!Hawks theories, and that includes the theory that Hawks will turn on the heroes and end up siding with the villains (because, again, it has nothing to do with him liking the villains, or secretly resenting the HPSC; it’s strictly on account of the whole “the villains want to destroy the entire world” thing. like. unless you think Hawks is cool with all of that of course). so I have to admit this was very startling for me to read

but I do think this is probably just some of the inevitable self-loathing finally spilling over after being forced to play this role and do all these things for the sake of the greater good, rather than him hinting at a desire to turn against the so-called “hero scum.” but still, that’s probably as dark as we’re gonna get from him, and ngl, it’s some heavy stuff

goddammit. feel like we need to cut to some wholesome class 1-A antics or something after all of that. as always, angst is a double-edged sword that I always anticipate and love but am also destroyed by sigh

#bnha 264 #hawks #twice (bnha)#kaminari denki #re-destro #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste spoiler recap #makeste reads bnha #at least next week the anime will finally get to the concert!#I can't wait omg #exactly the type of wholesome antics I was referring to #the manga is so tense right now holy crap #got a feeling we're gonna need this

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adrenalineguide · 3 years

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Jeep Wrangler Sport S and Mustang 2.3L Convertible: Two Fours for Summer Fun

Words and Photos By Michael Hozjan

No I’m not talking about cases of beer. I’m referring to the number of cylinders found under the hood of two American icons in the automotive landscape – the Jeep Wrangler and Mustang. Don’t scoff, four cylinders have been making a huge come back in recent years and no, these are not your grand dad’s four cylinders. Both the Jeep and the Mustang rely on turbocharging to get the extra oomph when needed all while delivering below average thirst numbers compared to their V6 and V8 counterparts. Let’s face it do we really need all that horsepower all the time and isn’t it nice to save some bucks at the pump.

Jeep Wrangler Sport: Back to its roots

“There’s something amiss here.” I tell myself as the engine comes to life. I hit the off button and check for the glow plug light, there isn’t one. For some reason the engine doesn’t sound the same, and yet there’s something eerily familiar about the sound. I mistakenly expected the Wrangler to be diesel powered, which it was not. The diesel mill is offered in the Gladiator that I was due to drive, but at a later date. Blame it on old age or just on my eagerness to get behind the wheel of one of my favorite rides.

Well one thing lead to another and another and before I knew it, it was several days later that I popped the hood to gaze upon the turbocharged inline 2.0L four cylinder. THAT’S what the sound was… somehow, the engineers at Jeep have managed to get the sound of the old familiar World War II era four cylinder Jeep into this modern, 80th anniversary edition Wrangler…or maybe it’s just me. One thing is certain, it doesn’t sound like the Wrangler I’ve been accustomed to.

Maybe it’s just coincidence, maybe it’s good corporate planning, with Jeep’s closest off-road capable rival, the Ford Bronco making its debut this year, Jeep has stepped up the ante, not only have they launched the Wrangler Xtreme Recon equipped with the first ever 35-inch rubber straight out of the factory, but are also offering a slew of powerplants to make any competitor nervous: beginning with this week’s tester, there’s the 2.0 L turbocharged four cylinder mated to the 8-speed TorqueFlite automatic, the trusty old 285 horsepower Pentastar 3.6L V6s remain and come with either a manual or automatic trans, there’s also a mild hybrid version mated to the 3.6L tagged the eTorque, a 3.0L EcoDiesel V6 with 442 lb-ft of torque and 260 horses and for the first time in four decades, the Wrangler gets a V8. Available exclusively (dare I say for the time being) in the Rubicon 392 trim, the 6.4L throws out 470 horses and the like amount of torque through the eight-speed TorqueFlite automatic transmission and Selec-Trac full-time active transfer case. It blasts the Rubicon 392 to 100 km/h in less than five seconds making it the quickest Wrangler in history!

Well it appears the Jeep has come full circle with their mills, reverting back to four cylinder power to move their off roaders about. But don’t think for a minute that these are the old WWII flatheads. No sir, and not one but two count them, two four cylinders are offered. Aside from my Snazzyberry Pearl colored 2.0L turbocharged tester which pumps out 270 horses and 295 lb-ft of torque, capable of towing 2,000 lbs (907 kilos), that’s 35 more lb-ft of torque than its V6 counterpart, there’s also an electrified four cylinder that adds an electric motor. The plug in hybrid 4xe delivers 375 horses! Stay tuned for more on this one.

Above and below: There’s nothing missing in the four that you wouldn’t find in the six.

If you’re a regular reader of my posts you’ll know that I do NOT check performance numbers or price tags before I get a feel for what the vehicle feels like. Does it feel like 300 horses, does it feel like 400 lb-ft of torque? I tend to reserve looking at the stats until after my first, second and third impression. That said, despite having 270 horses, it still seemed a bit anemic from my previous Wrangler encounters (with the V6). There’s a noticeable difference at half throttle when leaving a red light or stop sign, but that quickly disappears as you build up speed. Punch the go pedal however to wake up the turbo boost and grab on to the steering wheel. The torque kicks in and bites the tarmac like a banshee. Suddenly Jeeps decision to go with this combo makes perfect sense.

On the highway the four delivers smooth, linear power and actually feels better mated to the 8-speed automatic than the six. Passing semis or climbing grades isn’t a problem and while I didn’t get the chance to go off-roading I suspect that the added torque would be able to let this Wrangler do some serious climbing prowess without hesitation.

Of course one of the other main attributes is that the Wrangler can shed its top when the weather turns warm. With two tops available it still remains the only convertible SUV in the market.

Above: A hidden cubby hole under the trunk floor comes in handy

One of the Wrangler’s Achilles’ heals has always been it’s thirst for fuel. My best has usually been around 12L/100 kms even when feathering my foot. Well the 2.0L netted me a 9.75L/100 average, on top of which a $200 saving over the automatic trannied V6 makes getting into a Wrangler a lot easier. The Sport S starts at $45,465, my fully loaded tester came in at a substantial premium, which leads me to want to see this mill in the 2-door Wrangler variant with a manual transmission. Now that would truly be full circle. If you’ve always wanted a Wrangler but weren’t crazy about their fuel consumption Jeep has just given you several reasons why you should reconsider.

Price as tested: $62,030 *

*Includes excise tax and destination fees

Mustang 2.3L Convertible: Is this the best Mustang ever?

It’s a balmy July afternoon, the kind we wait all year long for and fantasize about from December through to March. I’m in the left lane of the 401 heading west, passing semi after semi. The sun is beaming down on me and I get to thinking how nice this thing would be for a cross-country run. Indeed it doesn’t get much better than this. There are so many semis it reminds me of the rocking chair scene in The Bandit, only I’m not driving a T-top black Firebird with a roaring V8 and Sheriff Buford T Justice chasing me, but a drop top Antimatter Blue (yes that’s the hue) Mustang with a turbocharged 2.3L four cylinder.

For decades Ford has been grappling with the notion of having both a high performance Mustang and an economy Mustang, and yes when it first debuted there were trims that encompassed both. But over the years that concept got lost with muscle cars taking the limelight. It wasn’t until the gas crisis of ’73 that the economy car resurrected itself in the Mustang II, but in the process lost the muscle slice of the pie.

Well guess what, the 2.3L fits both bills easily. Yes diehard muscle heads may pooh pooh the thought of another four cylinder in a Mustang but they have no idea what they’re missing out on.

Pillaged from the darling all-wheel-drive Ford, the Focus RS, the 2.3L mill has been turned longitudinally to fit into the pony car. Although Ford has given the Mustang a larger twin scroll turbo, there are 18 fewer horses pulling the pony car over the RS. Torque however has been retained.

With 310 horses and 350 lb-ft of torque on tap mated to an optional 10-speed automatic my tester galloped along without so much as missing a breadth. Thankfully Ford has retained the 6-speed manual. My unofficial timing showed zero to a hundred kilometers shot in at 4.6 seconds! I have to say that as sweet as the four cylinder is, the exhaust note just tries to hard and gets annoying after a while. It’s like look at me, look at me. Oh shut up! Thankfully there is a shut off switch.

My ‘stang came with the High Performance Package, a $6,500 option inherited from the Mustang GT, which meant stickier 19” Pirelli rubber over the base car’s 17” units, larger brake rotors with four piston calipers, stiffer springs, a beefier rear sway bar, strut tower brace, a larger rad, a 3.55:1 limited slip diff. In other words, all the right stuff to make this a serious tourer.

Above and below: Top up or top down the Mustang looks great. Front spoiler is part of the High Performance Package.

Another plus for the four-cylinder argument is better balanced shedding 147kilos (auto trans) off its front axle. The result is a crisper handling ride with a nominal amount of body roll, less nosedive under hard braking. Switching driving modes from Normal to Sport mode for attacking the lakeside twisties shows the car’s true potential with the engine’s responsiveness hitting the sweet spot over 2,500 rpm and the fun factor sans V8.

This would make an interesting track car.

Inside you get all the usual fan fare of goodies including cooling and heated power leather seats. The hi-po package adds an oil pressure and turbo boost gauge and engine spun aluminum instrument panel. Fit and finish is spot on with comfortable buckets making the drive that much more enjoyable.

Above: Despite what it looks like my 6’ frame spent several hours back there in a friend’s convert for a three-hour trip to the Syracuse Nationals a few years back without a single complaint.

Like the Jeep the Mustang doesn’t come cheap. While the base price is a very reasonable $43,370, my tester’s option list added another $11,800 to the price tag. Stepping up to the $6,500 high performance package is a no brainer, especially if you’re a serious driver, but while the 10-speed is perfectly matched to the engine and responds wonderfully to throttle inputs I’d go with the 6-speed manual and trim $1,750 off the tag. Other options included $1,000 AM/FM/CD/HD radio, $2,300 for adaptive cruise, voice activated touch screen navigation and the Ford Safe & Smart package.

In a move I just don’t understand is the spare tire/wheel has been relegated to option status! In its place is a compressor - just the ticket for a bent rim, blow out or flat in the middle of nowhere on a dark rainy night. Come on Ford!

Yes the Mustang buyer has a number of trims and powerplants to opt for all the way to the 100 grand Shelby GT500 but really, wouldn’t you rather have a car that hits all the right fun buttons without breaking the bank while still passing a gas station or two ( I averaged 10.7L/100 km). Oh and let’s not forget the savings on the insurance premium on the four cylinder So shrug the V8 monkey off your back and hit the road in a four.

Price as tested: $56,970*

*Includes destination charges

#jeep #jeepwrangler #suv #four cylinder #2.0l #turbocharged #pentastar #mustang #convertible #pony car #muscle car #2.3l #high performance #mustang gt #car insurance

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hopefulfestivaltastemaker · 3 years

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April 25, 2021

My weekly roundup of topics of interest. Topics include urban heat islands, transportation safety, lighting, and cooking.

Urban Heat Island

In the last few weeks, I added some sections on light and noise pollution. Continuing on with some additional, primarily city-scale pollution topics, this week was the urban heat island effect.

The UHI is a phenomenon whereby cities are warmed up, either due to the waste heat of energy usage; pavement, roofs, and other infrastructure absorbing daytime heat; a reduction of surface area and thus heat convention (trees and other vegetation have a lot of surface area and thus are good at radiating heat); or other factors. Unlike global warming, which as the name applies affects the whole planet, UHI is mainly a localized effect and is distinct.

About 166 thousand people die every year from heatwaves. I’m not sure how many of these deaths should be attributed to UHI. The only two estimates I know about are that the UHI causes 0.42% excess deaths in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon), and that the UHI was responsible for 52% of the deaths in the West Midlands, UK during the August 2003 heat wave. That’s a pretty wide range and only two data points. If every single death from heatwaves can be attributed to UHI and we take the statistical value of a life at $10 million, then the scale of UHI gets into the trillions of dollars. In reality it’s probably an order of magnitude less than that, which would place UHI on roughly the same level of damage as ozone depletion.

Another way to get a handle on the cost is air conditioning. The UHI was estimated to cost 14 large cities 0.068% of their GDP in operating and repairing AC units alone. That’s about $60 billion per year if extrapolated worldwide, but that’s almost certainly an overestimate because the UHI is worse in larger cities.

By my crude attempt to determine the order of magnitude damages, I’d say that UHI certainly ranks below noise pollution, probably below light pollution, and again maybe on par with ozone depletion in terms of seriousness.

Above I noted three main causes of UHI, and again I am frustrated by the seeming lack of results that decomposes the magnitude of them. The same was true with noise and light pollution. This is the opposite of global warming, air pollution (to an extent), and ozone depletion, for instance, where we know in great detail what the sources of emissions are and the relative magnitude of various sources. But the lack of knowledge here could be partly the result of the fact that UHI is a very localized phenomenon, and so global averages wouldn’t be terribly meaningful.

For those wondering, the UHI is estimated to contribute about 2-4% of all extra heat associated with global warming, with the rest coming from CO2 emissions and black carbon (79% and 18% respectively). This may seem low, but keep in mind that urbanized land is only about 1-3% of all the Earth’s surface area. It seems bigger because that is where most human experience takes place. And no, UHI does not explain most of global warming measurements.

As far as what we ought to do about it, I feel hampered by the fact that I don’t have a good decomposition of causes of UHI, but white (reflective) roofs and vegetation planting in cities both show benefit-cost ratios better than 1.

Transportation Safety

How should we thinking about transportation safety, which is the probability of injury or death from various modes? This paper is pretty good. It gives the death rate for various modes by number of journeys, by hours of travel, and by kilometers of travel.

Unfortunately, it assess figures on the vehicle level (e.g. deaths per vehicle-km), and I think that on an individual level would be much more meaningful. So I estimated typical occupancy rates of various vehicles and converted them into this (not yet well formatted) chart.

(Here I am assuming that “water” means ferries.)

The numbers are all over the board, but one thing that jumps out at me is how much more dangerous active transportation (cycling and walking) is than driving on all three metrics. By comparison, air travel, rail, ferries, and buses are much safer, which I think we generally know. Going into space is risky.

The risks of cycling are generally confirmed from other sources (like this one). Active transportation enthusiasts will often fire back that cycling is dangerous because of car usage, since it is collisions with automobiles that drives much of the risk. That may be, but I would be curious to know some more detailed safety figures. How does a separated cycle track, for instance, compare with a bike lane for safety? I’ve seen a lot of figures on this but nothing that I would regard as super reliable.

Since driving is the most common mode of travel, I also want to delve a little bit into auto safety.

Overall, I want to make a good case for compact cities, and the last few weeks have not been good for that. Noise pollution, light, pollution, and the UHI are all issues where the absolute level of impact will go down with compact cities, but the amount of exposure that people receive will go up. Insofar as we regard human health impacts as the main issue, this is an argument for less dense cities, though it would be countered by considering ecological impacts as well. As far as transportation safety is concerned, unless there are some much safer models of active transportation (I didn’t look at powered micromobility, for instance, but those numbers don’t seem to be very good either), it’s probably best to go for mass transit, which is best at more moderate densities but higher densities than generally prevail in the US.

Lighting

Lighting efficacy is a subject I looked at a while ago and am coming back to know. United 4 Efficiency is one of many sources that does a general comparison of efficiency across sources.

We are all familiar with the progress in solar PV and wind turbines of the last few years. A bit less well-known, but also important, is how LEDs have cut electricity demand for lighting, even with the rebound effect taken into account. LEDs should be regarded as one of the major bright spots (no pun intended) of progress on climate change. However, as noted a few weeks ago, LEDs could be a setback from a light pollution standpoint.

Despite the impressive progress, there are still some further advances possible, most notably with laser diodes and organic LEDs. Both technologies have already been commercialized, but are used for niche purposes so far. When they become cheaper and fully developed, both laser diodes and OLED could be more than twice as efficient (measured as lumens per watt) than LEDs on the market now.

Cooking: Gas vs. Electric

Several cities are moving to ban natural gas hookups in new construction, which would force cooking from electricity instead of gas. There are a lot of issues here, especially with cost, and there are also several differences in how dishes come out. Some chefs aren’t too happy with losing the gas option.

As for overall energy impact, if natural gas is the main source of electricity on a grid, then a switchover doesn’t seem like a good move. Why not just use natural gas directly for heat rather than converting it to electricity, then using the electricity for heat?

This is counterbalanced by the fact that electricity tends to be a more efficient energy carrier for delivering heat. A study in Korea finds that electric cooking has lower primary energy demand and lifecycle greenhouse gas emissions, and this with a national electric grid that is about 80% fossil fuels.

I’m not sure I understand or fully buy the numbers in this study, and I will have to look further to be convinced. They find that induction cooking (electricity) has an efficiency of 74.9–77.6%, while gas has an efficiency of 30.2–41.7%. That’s good for electricity, but I don’t think it is good enough to get the primary energy savings that the paper claims, unless I am missing something.

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bl4cklabyrinth · 4 years

Text

ROCKIN’ON JAPAN December 2018 Interview Translation: Hiro talks about S･S･S

Disclaimer: Please do not retranslate my work into other languages, as my translation may not be accurate. I am no Japanese or English native.

The biggest thank you to Anna for helping me get the magazine clippings!

Photo from here.

The band has overcome its limits, and has given life to the masterpiece “S･S･S”

A solo interview with Hiro, where he shares his thoughts on finally getting to where he is now!

The rock band MY FIRST STORY has finally reached its full potential and came out with a simply amazing album.

Hiro has been making declarations for quite some time now – his thoughts towards his family, the meaning of his life, and the meaning behind his songs. At times they’ve been fired as a clear declaration of war and at other times as words of encouragement, but the truth is, until their last album “ANTITHESE”, those declarations naturally became a melody, a lyric, a song, against which MFS has always struggled alone.

However, this album is different. This album is solely dedicated to music. It’s just rock. It’s purely loud and piercingly melodious.

High quality, open, and very poppy music is being sought after. This is, so to speak, practically the first album they’ve made in which Hiro’s talent as a musician bloomed upward beautifully. It’s been 7 years since their debut, and it’s incredible how they were able to make it this far to get a chance at performing for 2 days at Yokohama Arena.

MFS and Hiro’s journey is finally approaching its quintessence from hereon. I talked at length with Hiro, who had made a breakthrough.

- How’s the band doing?

Hiro: It’s been pretty good. For better or for worse, we haven’t been aggressive since Budokan. I think we’ve been able to maintain our pace without spiralling out of control.

- Would it be safe to assume that that vibe was reflected in this album?

Hiro: Actually, I think this is the album that came out the best. On the flipside, it felt like everyone was just completely following my lead for our last album “ANTITHESE” (laughs). While continuing the course of the previous album, it was through our egos then and our desire to “take it easy”, “ do things freely”, and “try out all sorts of things” that this album came about.

- “ANTITHESE” was made in such a way that it just drilled you down, drove you into a corner, and squeezed you dry. Was the process completely different this time?

Hiro: About 3 or 4 songs on this album have been around since we made “ANTITHESE”. The songs “M.A.D” and “REMEMBER” are two of those, and more came about when I discussed how I wanted to make more songs like them with the members. “ANTITHESE” came together nicely, and I thought it would be nice if we could develop it further with these two songs.

- So there was no talk of putting those two songs on “ANTITHESE”, huh.

Hiro: In my mind, those 14 songs are the full maximum, no more or less than that. I didn’t want to put anything extra. But I thought, “The songs are cool, I wanna release them. Maybe in the next album.”

- I see. Did you already have some sort of vision as to what you wanted the album to be like from that stage?

Hiro: I did. “ANTITHESE” is like a boy while this one’s like a young man, as if it got a bit more mature. There are a lot of minor details that went into it like chord progressions, riffs, melodies, and rhythms, but we made it wanting to convey a sense of indirectness or something like, “Ah, this is pretty cool” when listened to.

- That sounds great. It’s like an upgraded version of the band, like “MY FIRST STORY 2.0”.

Hiro: That’s right (laughs).

- I suppose you could make another album like “ANTITHESE”, but to return to that point in your life...?

Hiro: That’s pretty tough (laughs). Once you’ve spit it all out once, the things you want to say the second time around will definitely be different. I can’t make another album like that.

- I believe you struggled in order to put out the album “ANTITHESE”, but after doing so, did you feel something like, “I’ve wrung out everything I wanted to say, what do I do now?”

Hiro: I did, I did. Personality-wise, I can’t keep writing lyrics that only convey “hope”. There are a lot of other artists who can do just that and make it resonate with everyone, so when we realized that that wasn’t what we should be doing, we thought we had to write ourselves realistically the way we are now. It’s easier to get a bird’s eye view of the song’s world rather than the lyrics’, so I would say, “We made a song like this last time, let’s try to make it more stylish by adding a tension chord,” or have an idea in my head like, “We did this last time, maybe we should do this next time”. I honestly thought it’d be boring if we only put out songs like “ALONE” or “Fukagyaku”, and the songs themselves aren’t gonna die out anyway, so “ACCIDENT” was born. Sometimes it’s harder to figure out how to flesh things out from there (laughs).

- In terms of lyrics, what kind of changes have taken place since the end of “ANTITHESE” up to this point in time?

Hiro: Probably up until around “ALONE” and “ANTITHESE”, the lyrics had only been about me. But as you would expect, there isn’t much more to say (laughs). I’m not all hate. The lyrics I envision or write are of my ideal person. So it doesn’t mean that I live my life that way every day – of course I’ve betrayed myself countless times, and I’ve lied to myself as well, but you can’t see that part of me from the outside. Those who receive it as a song lyric always think that that’s all there is to it. Humans aren’t that strong – there are days when your mind is on the edge, and there are days when you feel like you’re not your usual self. Rather, I think it’s during times like that when people can relate to the lyrics. When I started writing with that in mind, I was surprised at how much I could write. I was so adamant about needing to write in that tone of voice, but I was able to remove that part of me after doing Budokan which made things a lot easier.

- The more you listen to it, the more you realize that the lyrics are very personal. You also feel a sense of living that you’ve never felt before.

Hiro: Yes. It’s important to show different sides of myself, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to write more in the future. I also look forward to what kinds of reactions I’ll get when I put out such things. It’s like, I didn’t cook anything super elaborate, I just tried making something out of what I had in the fridge. But I’ve been doing this for 7 years now, so I think I can make a pretty decent meal with what’s stocked in the refrigerator (laughs). You can do a lot of things with the nuance “as long as the dish is good”. I think that’s how the album came to be, in a good way.

- I think that’s a great change. For the longest time you’ve been setting up some sort of hurdle that goes, “How many people truly understand what I’m feeling here?” but that was taken away and now it’s just like, “If you like music, give it a listen”.

Hiro: That’s true. In a sense, I’ve finished what I wanted to do, so I thought I’d take a more casual approach to MY FIRST STORY. I’m now able to challenge all sorts of things I wasn’t able to do in the past. Conversely, I think the 5 years after Budokan will be even more difficult.

- In the days leading up to Budokan, MFS as well as Hiro were looking for a way to end things, or even a way of life in which things would personally end in the most beautiful way possible.

Hiro: Right. It’s still the same now, it’s never ending, but I definitely don’t want to continue doing this on an emotional level. So far, we’ve made it clear that we’re aiming for Tokyo Dome. I think it’d be tough for the people watching over us to support us if they didn’t know what we want to do, what we’re trying to achieve or what our goal is. We can’t keep running in the dark with no goal in sight, but we have to keep running regardless. By putting what lies ahead of me into words, I feel like it solidifies the path I should be taking. When we started the band, our goal was Budokan, but after finishing that, it became Tokyo Dome. This time, I wonder what will happen next after Tokyo Dome is over. Only then will we know what the future holds, but right now, I think Tokyo Dome will be the end of the road for MFS 2.0.

- Then after that, you might find something new again, or you might think, “It’s over”. You never really know, huh.

Hiro: Yeah. It’s like a plot with a clear introduction, development, twist, and conclusion. We’re called MY FIRST STORY after all, so if we don’t convince ourselves that we’re in a story with a beginning and end, we won’t be able to continue running ahead. I’m the type of person who can’t pull through unless I set a goal to run for 1 hour or 10 km. Because we decide on a location to aim towards, in a sense, we become able to keep moving forward.

- I see. That’s a good mode to be in.

Hiro: That’s right. It would be tough if I kept the same pace as I did moving towards Budokan (laughs). And even if I did go at the same pace, I don’t know if I’d be able to make it. If I thought about it all the way through until we got there, everyone else would be thinking about it too, so I thought it’d be better to stop fussing over it for a while. I’ve thought about it enough. So for now, at our own pace, we’re focusing on working with what we can sensibly come up with, what would be good for us to do, and what we’re capable of doing now. I believe it’s for the best.

- I really admire how Hiro, who was searching for his final destination, is now singing about wanting to continue on with MY FIRST STORY.

Hiro: Yeah. I as well as the members are excited for what lies ahead, not having to be bound to a certain rock band image or genre. Of course, the members and I definitely have our pride and things we want to maintain, but none of us have a “must do this” mentality. Because of this, I think there’ll be more opportunities to try things out in the future. With the addition of Kid’z, we’ve moved past Budokan, and I’m sure there’ll be even more in store from now on. The members have been getting along really well lately. We’ve been hanging out a lot, and when I taught them how to play poker, they all got hooked and played together until morning (laughs).

- For real? (laughs)

Hiro: When you spend time together outside band activities, your perceived values become the same, and the things that come out of that will be more different than how they’ve always been in the past. I think the ideas we’ve been putting out and reconciling with each other up to now are becoming more and more whole. If you don’t experience or feel the same things on a regular basis, you won’t be able to create much. I think we blend together really well right now, so I’m looking forward to the future.

- The first thing I noticed this time was your voice. The way you sang and the variations in your singing voice were really well done. It’s like, “There’s this drawer, and this drawer, and if you’d like, there’s this ceiling”. It kind of felt like that way of singing was finally unleashed.

Hiro: Really? Thank you. For me, it didn’t feel that way this time at all, I felt it more so when I made “ANTITHESE”. But just like the “even if you overthink things, there’s nothing much you can do” thing I mentioned earlier, if you think too much about it and then try to sing, that’s when you surprisingly become unable to sing. So now, instead of trying to sing without letting the pressure get to my head, I focus more on casually internalizing what I would think if I were the listener. Mainly thinking, “If I add a little touch here, would it sound weird,” or “I wonder if it isn’t bad”, I would’ve sung it rather quickly so I wouldn’t think too much about it.

- So it would be like you were just singing along to the music?

Hiro: Yeah. As if that’s just the way I wanted it to be.

- I’m sure there were a lot of variations in terms of music, so inevitably I’d assume there were variations in the songs as well.

Hiro: Ahh, I really wanted to make an album that wasn’t straightforward. Of course there are straightforward songs as well, but I wanted to throw in a few curve balls there too. Curves, sliders, forks, knuckles, all sorts of things were thrown together to make it work, and specifically having that in mind made things easy to understand when we were putting the songs in. It’s like, “No matter how you look at it, it’s this kind of song. Well then, let’s sing it that way”. It was easy to grasp for me as a listener and as a singer.

- If you listen to this album objectively, what do you think about your vocals?

Hiro: I’d tell myself, “You had a lot in mind when you were recording, huh.” However, I can definitely sing without an issue this time around, so I feel totally fine listening to myself now. I’m really jealous of people who can shake it off and say, “This is who I am”, because I can’t. But I was thinking, if I could push myself hard enough to be able to sing like that one day, I’d feel much better, or perhaps something new will be born within me from there. This album allowed me to experience that. Rather than having me in the song, it’s something I created, something I can present as a part of myself. This album shows the breadth of my own evolution and what lies ahead. It goes the same way for MFS as a whole, too. That’s why I’m really glad we tried making an album like this.

- You’d want to say, “It’s a masterpiece!” but I feel like it’s more so “There’s gonna be more masterpieces from now on”.

Hiro: That’s right. It’s like the meat in a course meal. And then it’s gonna be like, “We’re serving pasta after this,” “Eh, seriously!?” (laughs)

- Even the band members are playing very freely, huh.

Hiro: Yes. This time, I wasn’t present for the members’ recording sessions at all. They’d call me and ask, “What do we do here?” and I’d answer, “Eh? Anything goes” (laughs). Of course I knew the dates, but I wouldn’t go even if I was free (laughs). There’s nothing for me to do there even if I went, and we all have our own things we want to pursue and things we want to do with the songs. I didn’t think it was right for me to say how things should be done. Even my parts aren’t perfect, and I wouldn’t know what to say to the member in question if I wasn’t sure whether the part they worked on was done correctly or not, and I feel like telling them what to do would take out all the fun. Realizing that it’s better for me to listen objectively to a piece of work created through everyone’s efforts was a huge help. On top of that, I’m able to do the things I want to do – it’s already an ideal situation (laughs). I don’t care what they do, as long as they don’t commit a crime (laughs).

- Amazing. I never thought the day would come that I’d hear those words from you (laughs).

Hiro: Hahahaha, it’s true. We didn’t start out as friends. We just considered each other as fellow members when we started the band, always keeping one another in check with a great deal of care and a little bit of stress. However, even if Budokan was for me and for everyone listening, it was the members who understood me the best. From that point on, we didn’t really mind each other’s businesses anymore, and it became like, “Why don’t we just say what we want to say to each other, we’ve come this far after all?” They know their parts, and they know themselves better than anyone else, so there isn’t a whole lot to complain about anymore. Even if one of us would make a mistake at a show, we wouldn’t say, “Play it right” or anything like that anymore. They know what they’re doing, and they know that there’s nothing else to respond to such a comment other than “I’m sorry”. If doing so would immediately change things then go for it, but if they continue on without changing then just tell them off. They’re not the kind of dudes who don’t do anything, and on the contrary, it is me who gets his ass kicked more often than not, so I don’t really have anything to say to that. That’s about as good as it’s gonna get.

- That’s great. You’ve finally come this far, huh.

Hiro: Yeah. I’ve been feeling like I’ve gone rather far lately (laughs).

- Is it because you made this album?

Hiro: I think it’s more because we were able to appreciate each other more, or realize, “It’s okay to do this now”. As for the album, it was a piece of work that made me feel like I could see the future in more ways than one.

- Up until now, the band’s primary identity had been what Hiro squeezes out and screams about. In that case, it’s not so much about how you want people to hear you play, but more so about how you can bring your cries and messages forward.

Hiro: That’s a pretty hard task for the other members to do. But all of that is over. If that had been the case until now, I would have never said, “The members can do whatever they want” and this album would have never been released. Back then, I’d go, “Let’s do it like this here,” “The last chorus definitely goes after the bridge,” but it hasn’t been like that these days. Now we’d go ahead and say, “This is good,” “Interesting, interesting”. It’s like the kids who always had to ask permission from their mom have disappeared.

- “Young man” is a great metaphor in that sense as well (laughs).

Hiro: Mhm. It’s just like disciplining a child – just because you did it before doesn’t mean you’ll grow up that way, and saying too much isn’t a good thing either. We are all different people after all, and whether we’re lovers or family, we can’t understand each other 100% of the time, so we have to accept and trust each other more. I don’t really like it when people grow apart because of work. I want to make a team like the one in “Wild Speed”. We all get along really well, getting together in a garden to have a barbecue and stuff like that. It’s partly because we have such a good sense of team spirit that we’re able to do things indie. I wouldn’t be able to continue on unless I had a team with the same ambitions and the same passion to move forward. Seeing a lot of adults being considerate of me makes me feel better about myself (laughs). The members are the ones who understand “Let’s take it easy” the most. This may seem natural, but it’s super hard to do. And now that I’m able to do so, it feels great.

- You’ve truly made an incredible rock album. And it’s good that your methods can effectively be used to make more in the future.

Hiro: In fact, it’s been going so smoothly that it has become the focal point of our work process, so I don’t think it was difficult for anyone. Scheduling was pretty tough though. In August, I was singing at shows and recordings for 15 days in a row or something like that. Some of the songs didn’t have melodies or lyrics yet, and I was thinking, “Seriously, what are we gonna do!” but we had the same situation when we were making “ANTITHESE”, so I was like, “If you have the time to say ‘Oh no’ or ‘We’ll never finish’, then use that time to continue working instead” (laughs). Because of this, I’ve learned to believe in myself. The members were on a super tight schedule as well, but they would respond to requests from me like, “I want to change the first verse” or “Sorry, take it down a half-step”, so I was confident that everything was going to be okay. We may be in a hurry, but I no longer get worried or anxious.

- There were a lot of songs that used the words “white” and “black” this time. However, rather than black and white symbolizing “win or lose”, it was more of “There’s a part of me that’s pure white, and a part of me that’s pitch black”, providing a perspective that allows us to see both sides of you in the same light.

Hiro: That’s true. “ANTITHESE” was always about me, but that was completely overturned this time, now having different main characters for each song. Then, I wrote the lyrics, sang the songs, so there are many different stories of me in this album. Sometimes they’re of a similar hue, but still slightly different in shade. Of course, I didn’t write about colors that I didn’t have at all, so I was able to recreate the colors in my mind, or rather, sublimate them in the form of music.

- It’s like, “Sometimes it’s white, sometimes it’s black. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. But that’s just the way things are, right?”

Hiro: Yep. With this one album, we’re no longer limited to, “This is what I say in this song, so I have to keep saying this”. It’s like, “That isn’t always the case, you know. I’m only human” (laughs). Like, “Sometimes I feel that way, sometimes I don’t”. It doesn’t matter if they’re on the same album. I was able to reach that point in my life, so now I have a wide range to work with.

- That’s why Hiro’s melody-making skills are being opened up to the fullest.

Hiro: This time, I mostly worked upwards from the chorus. After breaking apart the original chorus, I’d go, “This one’s catchier”. I didn’t even stick to the general concept of the melody – I’d try to make one, but if I wasn’t 100% sold on it, I’d try to make 10 more, and then I’d go with what everyone said was good. The premise behind a melody is that it’s something you can hum along to when you suddenly hear it, so I didn’t want to change my approach of starting songs from there. Nowadays, people don’t say, “This song is good”. They say, “These lyrics are good”. Because of this, I want to create a catchy melody that’s easy to remember, one with a rebellious spirit, and at the moment, I think it’d be good if it were in Japanese. That being said, I want everyone to be able to say, “This melody is good”.

- I think it’s a really well-made album. I thought that the Hiro who’s been shouting out what’s inside his heart has made it this far (laughs).

Hiro: On the contrary, it’s exactly how I imagined it to be from the moment we started the band up to this point in time. Our pace and work are progressing as well with a margin of error of about 0.5 mm. Thing is, we’re gonna start with a completely clean slate from here on out, so we’re in a bit of a hurry (laughs). We’re kind of in a standstill right now, but if you’re asking me how I feel about the members or the music, I’d say, “Well, it’ll be okay”. From this point forward, I think we’re just gonna have to put ourselves out there. To be honest, we aren’t really sure ourselves either (laughs), but from now on, it’s not gonna be a story that was created – it’s gonna be a story that we create while walking forward.

#my first story #マイファス #print #2018 #yay #first full-length magazine interview translation #pats self on the back #am I ready to translate the Antithese interview though #oof #Hiro

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baeklination · 4 years

Text

구름 도시 (Cloud City) pt.1

Warnings/Contains: None really. Some light cursing. General talk about the case, but nothing explicit.

au: members of the justice system

Characters: Baekhyun, Kai, Suho, Sehun

WC:3400

Date:200523

Masterpost Part 2

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APRIL 17th

Jun-myeon poked his head out of his office.

“Byun, we’ve got a girl reported missing, go talk to her parents will you?”

Baek-hyun grabbed the holster from his chair, out of habit more than anything

“How old?”

“She’s twenty-six, Cho Min-young, lives in Hammer Hill. Her parents are waiting”

Baek-hyun slowed down and raised an eyebrow at his boss.

“Jun, you know I’m not a star case- guy, but a missing twenty-six year-old..? I thought you meant a kid. She’s probably at a boyfriend's house-”

“Nope”

“Girlfriend then-”

“They’ve called everyone they can think of, and she didn’t show up for work this morning. Come on, Byun, as a favour; it’ll be in and out. Take the new guy with you, show him how the pro’s do it”. Jun-myeon shot a wide smile at him, knowing he’d won Baek-hyun over.

In the middle of the stations commotion sat a young detective, trying his best to look as if he hadn’t overheard the conversation between Baek-hyun and the lieutenant, but he felt like a kid waiting for his fun uncle to collect him.

“Come on, Jong-in, you heard the boss”, Baek-hyun said, approaching him. “Is it alright if we drop the honorifics, can I speak informally to you?”

“Yes, it’s okay, Mr.Byun, you can speak informally.” Jong-in nodded with a slightly nervous smile.

“We, Jong-in. We speak informally. No mr, hyung, or nim, please.”

Having reached the car, Baek-hyun waited for Jong-in’s reaction( although if anyone asked, he’d never admit to such vanity).

“Shit, this is your car? It’s a beauty!”, Jong-in exclaimed when he realized what ride was theirs. “You’re in to the classics?”

Baek-hyun chuckled and feigned embarrassment.

“Yeah, this is my Old Betty”, but the charade only lasted a moment. “70’s Coupe Deville - Cadillac, obviously. My father brought it back from the States in the 80’s”. Seeing the question on Jong-in’s face Baek-hyun continued “He went to college over there, and saw this darling; dirt cheap if you ask him - a prettier penny than that if you ask my mother. He retired it a while back, and let me buy it. Actually, he would never let me buy it - I’ve been paying for their weekly grocery shopping without him knowing for the past two years now” he laughed, and Jong-in, now more relaxed, rolled his eyes in a I-know-the-type-way. Reaching in and popping the hood he gestured for Jong-in to follow him.

“See” he pointed to the machinery “the engine was alright, but I know a mechanic, so I had it fitted with a V8, and the normal updates; better versions of things they had in the original. I know, I know, the original is the soul and all that - but I don’t want my girl going bust when I’m doing 110 on the highway chasing bad guys, you know”. Jong-in nodded, but this part was beyond him. “Now she’s got 600 HP and manages 130 km and hour, easy”, Baek-hyun shamelessly bragged as they got in the car. It wasn’t any wonder really, the car was in top condition; the body a dark, almost black, brown, grill and hubcaps gleaming like they were newly polished, and the inside a creamy dream of tan leather and red details.

“So, do you also have a classic?”, Baek-hyun’s eyes were shining with anticipation. Jong-in might’ve opened a Pandora’s box here, and he didn’t want to make a bad impression on their first day together, but decided that honesty was always the best route.

“No, I wish..! If I knew anything about cars then maybe I could buy an oldie, fix it up myself, you know, but I’ve never been good at cars. And buying one in good condition…”, he sighed.

Baek-hyun whistled “Hell, I couldn’t afford that, and I’m a couple of pay grades above you..!”.

“Yeah, and with my kid, I think it’s better to save than splurge. Our Honda runs good enough.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a kid. Boy or girl? Give me the deets.”

“Girl, Yong-sun. She’s eight months old, home with mommy - my girlfriend. We’ve been together seven years”, Jong-in said, almost stumbling over the last part, in case Baek-hyun would find it improper that he had a child before getting married.

“That long..! Congrats man, then you know it’s tried, tested and true”, Baek-hyun said, calming Jong-in’s nerves. Driving out of the garage he changed tone to a serious, albeit still relaxed, one “So, what d’you think; girl really missing or just out of reach? Pitch me some scenarios, rookie.”

¤¤¤

Having parked on the side of the street, Baek-hyun stepped out and surveyed the area for a while. Hammer Hill was a nice neighbourhood; not the highest echelons of society, but definitely upper middle-class.

“Pretty nice place for a single twenty-something to live in, no?”

“Pretty nice for anyone”, Jong-in replied. “But those online stars make a lot of money, you know”.

“This much?” Baek-hyun frowned in disbelief. “You think she’s doing something on the side? Catering to a different audience, so to speak? Wouldn’t be the first time”, Baek-hyun sighed, while he started up the stairs. Jong-in, not wanting to offend anyone, erred on the side of caution

“I don’t know, anything is possible. But making this much money in a…” he hesitated “...pure way is also possible”.

“First lesson passed, rookie: avoid jumping to stereotypical conclusions”, Baek-hyun said with a dunk on Jong-in’s back, as they walked up to the door. After ringing the doorbell Baek-hyun turned to Jong-in and hurriedly said:

“But don’t mention prostitution to her parents, okay? Don’t say anything to alarm them further. We want them to remain calm, so they don’t forget to mention anything. Besides, she’ll probably pop up in the next day or so. Just try to...get a feel for the situation. You’ll be doing a lot of these house calls, trust me”.

The door was opened by Min-young’s mother, a woman in her fifties, without any especially distinguishing features, except for the worry in her eyes.

“Mrs. Cho, I’m detective Byu-”

“Oh, finally, thank god, come in”, Mrs. Cho exclaimed with relief, and moved so they could go in. “I apologize, it’s a mess, but I didn’t want to touch anything in case…” her voice faded. She ushered Baek-hyun and Jong-in to the living-room, where an older man - presumably Mr.Cho - and a younger man stood up to great the detectives. Baek-hyun gave it another try.

“Good afternoon, Sir, I’m detective Byun, this is my colleague detective Kim”, he said and took the man’s hand with a warm smile “you must be Mr. Cho”.

“Detective Byun, Kim”, Mr. Cho said with a short nod to them “Thank you for coming.” Gesturing to the young man he continued “this is Oh Sehun, Min-young’s friend”. They exchanged remaining pleasantries and sat down.

“So, tell us, what’s going on; the lieutenant said you haven’t heard from Min-young - is it okay if I call her Min-young?” he interjected, remembering his manners. After getting the okay from Mr. and Mrs. Cho he continued “So, still nothing new from Min-young since...yesterday evening, was it? Tell us what happened”. Mrs. Cho, with a slight tremble in her voice started

“Well, it wasn’t anything special yesterday, really. It’s not that we had plans and she didn’t show up. But I tried calling her in the evening, but she didn’t pick up the phone. We tried calling a couple of times, but when it got late we figured maybe she was just really busy, and decided to wait until the morning.”

“But she hasn’t picked up today either”, Mr. Cho chimed in. “I tried calling at eight thirty, right before she goes to work, but she didn’t answer, so I tried her office...nothing. They still haven’t heard from her” he said, holding his palms up. Baek-hyun sensed Mr. Cho was more perplexed than scared, which would be helpful in locating her, as opposed to Mrs. Cho, who might overlook something because of the stress she clearly was under.

“Excuse me”, Jong-in said in a low voice, and the whole company looked at him with surprise, almost having forgotten about his presence. “You said she went to her office; wasn’t she a social media personality? She didn’t work from home?”

Good catch, Baek-hyun thought.

“Oh, no. She used to, but she felt a bit cooped up working from home, so she moved to a small office space in Rolling Hills; in the Gigamex complex.”

Baek-hyun let Jong-in take the lead, try his wings, so to speak, and focused more on scribbling down names and dates in his police issued notepad (he found that it made people feel as if he really listened if he used pen and paper instead of some smart device). This also gave him the opportunity to gauge their reactions to any questions, to make sure they were on the up-and-up. And what of this Sehun character? Up until now he’d been quiet, only a few nods and nervous hands clasped together. Interrupting his train of thought, Jong-in continued

“And who was it you talked to at the office?”

“Michelle. We don’t know her last name, but she’s Min-young’s assistant, she helps her with editing and her calendar, I think”. One could tell that world wasn’t Mr. Cho’s arena, but he was close enough with his daughter to have heard a bit about it. Mrs. Cho picked up her mobile, and after a few scrolls held it out for Baek-hyun to copy

“Here. This is her number. She couldn’t say much, but if you want to talk to her...” Baek-hyun received it with a barely distinguishable bow and took her number down.

“Do you know if anyone was...less than nice to her online? Did she ever mention anything specific?” Jong-in knew the price of putting yourself out there often was people being rude, nasty, or worse, so he wanted to make sure he covered at least some of the bases. And to be honest, as distasteful as it may sound it was exhilarating; his first interview in the field. And he seemed to know a thing or two more than Baek-hyun about this topic, so he got to shine a little. But her parents were adamant about her job not being an issue here.

“Her channel is about arts and crafts, making things from scratch, baking and those kinds of things. The people who write her are kind. Sure, there are a some rude people, but most of them are so sweet”, Mrs. Cho said.

“What about a boyfriend, was she seeing anybody?”, Baek-hyun asked and looked at Sehun, as did her parents “Are you..?”

For the first time Sehun let go of his hands, and waved no.

“No, no. We’ve been friends since middle school, she’s like my sister. And jogging buddy. We go running a couple days a week, have dinner or coffee after. We were supposed to go yesterday evening, but she cancelled”, Sehun explained.

“When was that?” Baek-hyun recognized the sign of voluntary M.I.A. Sehun unlocked his phone and showed the caller log to Baek-hyun “17.12. We usually meet up around five thirty, so it’s odd that she cancelled with such little notice”.

“Did she say why, or sound different in any way?”

“No. She said it wasn’t anything special, she just had something to do. But when I asked her again she wouldn’t say. I was kinda annoyed, but now...” Sehun shrugged his shoulders and looked so hopeless he almost made Baek-hyun think something had happened to Min-young. But being the veteran he was he knew the majority of these cases ended happily - a lost phone, a drunken night, or a secret boyfriend - so he composed himself and gave them a smile.

“I know you’re all very worried right now, but trust me when I say we get a lot of calls like these, and it almost always ends up being some kind of misunderstanding. But we’ll follow up on these tips you’ve given us when we get back to the station, of course. Could we just have a quick look around the apartment, to see if anything seems amiss?”

¤¤¤

Having seen nothing suspicious in Min-young’s apartment they assured the Cho’s that they would call them the next day, and said their goodbyes.

“You did good up there, Jong-in”, Baek-hyun complimented his partner for the day. “What are your thoughts?”

“Thank you, Byu-Baek-hyun” Jong-in stuttered, making Bae-hyun laugh.”I feel bad for them. But like you said, they almost always come back. So...do we talk to her assistant, get phone records from Min-young’s cell provider?”

“Phone records takes more than...” Baek-hyun looked at his watch “than the two hours we have left. Let’s call the assistant, and you can run down locations of CCTV in the area”.

“To see when she left the apartment and which way she went…”

“We’ll take a closer look tomorrow morning if she’s still not back. So her friend, Oh Sehun…” Baek-hyun let the question hang in the air.

“Yeah. Do you usually see friends joining this early? He’s probably telling the truth, but…”

“But..?” Baek-hyun echoed for Jong-in to continue.

“Well, he was the last one to talk to her. And did she really not say anything to him?”

“Exactly. I don’t think he’s hurt her, but it’s possible - likely even - that he might know more than he’s telling. Remember what I said about catering to a different audience? Let’s do a quick background check and talk to him tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be more open when the girl’s parents aren’t around.”

Back at the station Jong-in started working on the CCTV footage while Baek-hyun went to update Jun-myeon.

“Hey, boss...”, he knocked on the frosted glass window, but didn’t wait for a reply before he opened the door. Jun-myeon was on the phone, but gestured for Baek-hyun to come in.

“...twisted baguettes, not ordinary ones, got it. Bye, love” he said, hung up and shared one of his life lessons with Baek-hyun “happy wife, happy life. Now, how’d it go?” Baek-hyun ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“As expected, I’d say. They were worried, but it hasn’t been that long. We’re gonna run down some leads they gave us before calling it a day”.

“Okay, sounds good. And Jong-in?”

“Yeah, he did good, boss. And he likes my girl”, Baek-hyun smiled.

“Ah, Byun-ah..!”, Jun-myeon exclaimed “That’s why you like him, ‘cus he likes your car..!”

Baek-hyun choked a smile “No, he’s good, honestly. But why does he get to be “Jong-in” while I’m still my surname?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow. Jun-myeon countered by raising both brows.

“Because I don’t want nine guys in my office every time I ask for Kim, is why he’s “Jong-in”...”. Baek-hyun clicked his tongue and pointed at Jun-myeon.

“Got it. Well, I’m gonna do some digging with the time I’ve got left”, he said and stood up.

“You’re a star player, Byun. Fighting!”, Jun-myeon said jokingly as Baek-hyun closed the door.

¤¤¤

Baek-hyun and Jong-in had punched out after checking off their list. There wasn’t much to see, really; the assistant, Michelle, hadn’t seen Min-young so she couldn’t offer much assistance, ironically enough. And as far as Sehun goes, he seemed to be harmless; no citations, no odd-ball photos or rants on the internet...just a guy. Nonetheless, Baek-hyun had begun to feel a touch uneasy about the whole thing, so after shutting the engine off in the driveway he called the precinct and asked the officer on the night shift to send a request for Min-young’s phone records.

Better safe than sorry, he said to himself. Locking the car door was his queue to give his work mind a rest, and it wasn’t hard to do when he saw the note on his front door: 17.25 You have a houseguest, B!(Cover shift) It was signed with a winking smiley inside the O of the name “Veró”. Baek-hyun chuckled, spirits lifted. He had barely opened the door before a little corgi was upon him, tap-dancing around his feet with bright eyes. Baek-hyun put his blazer on a valet stand and bent down to greet his guest.

“Well, hi there, Mongi..! What are you doing here?” he said while playfully wrestling with the dog “Did you tell mommy to drop you of at the fun house?” He looked at his watch; an hour ago. “We might as well go out now, nugget. And then it’s dinner for the both of us - I’m famished!”.

With his parents living a couple of hours away, having Veró and Mongi was a real blessing to him. It’s not every day you meet someone you’re almost a hundred percent comfortable with; may it be in silence, changing clothes, physical interaction, crying or ugly laughing. Veró (short for Verónica) had moved in next door almost three years ago, and they instantly hit it off. Well, it wasn’t the right hit at first. They had dated for about four months when they both realized that they weren’t lovers’ material. The reason they felt exceedingly comfortable with each other was because they were best friends. They called it quits on the romantic part and now hung out as just friends; dinners, talks through the night, even sleepovers - and of course the semi-shared custody of Veró’s dog Mongi. Baek-hyun had fallen in love with him the first time he saw him, and insisted she name him Mongryong, but Veró was dead set on “Miguel”, a latin singer, or “the sun of Mexico” as she called him. They ended up having a marathon of games and soju to decide who would get the honours, and to Veró’s dismay Baek-hyun won, and the rest is history.

Since Veró left so late he knew she was covering for someone from the night shift and therefore didn’t expect her to be back until early morning at best, so after dinner they both curled up in bed: Mongi with a bone and Baek-hyun with the latest issue of Journal of Forensic Sciences.

“The things they can find out with forensics these days, Mongi, I tell ya...” Baek-hyun sighed, and Mongi looked at him, breathing heavily from his ferocious battle with the bone. “That’s right, pay attention, so you don’t go out in the streets acting like a fool.” He put the magazine on the nightstand as well as taking off his t-shirt before turning off the light - the queue for Mongi to curl up in the crook of Baek-hyun’s knees.

“Good night, nugget.”

APRIL 18th

Baek-hyun was the quintessential morning person, so when the alarm went off at 06.00 he immediately got up. The same could not be said about Mongi.

“Rise and shine, Mongi. Time to do some laps”, Baek-hyun cooed while putting on his sweats. But it would take the sound of food being prepared for Mongi to bounce out in to the kitchen.

“You try it every time, and I tell you every time: walk, then food.”

The air was chilly, a typical late spring morning, and there was an overcast hinting rain would come before long. He may not look it, but the dog was a top runner, so Baek-hyun could jog at a pace that made his heart rate go up a few notches, all the way down to the river, about twenty minutes away. He stopped by a drinking fountain, giving Mongi a few palms of water and splashed his face and water-combed his hair back. The clouds had lifted by the horizon, and the sunrise stained the clouds a yellowy apricot and Baek-hyun took it all in; these precious still and silent mornings were the favourite part of his day. He felt a tug on the leash, so he snapped out of it and they started back home for breakfast and a shower.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, draped a second one over his shoulders and made his way to the kitchen. A lot of Baek-hyun’s colleagues ate at work, but he preferred to have a quiet breakfast at home before all the hustle and bustle, so he sat down with his cup of black coffee and rye porridge. He was halfway through his meal when his phone rang, so his slippered feet shuffled to the bedroom:

“A call this early is never good, boss.” He sat down on the bed with a sinking feeling.

“Sorry, Byun. We’ve got a body, female. Under Pioneer’s Bridge. She hasn’t been identified, but…” Jun-myeon paused.

“You think it might be her.”

#baekhyun #baekhyun crime story #kai #jongin crime story #exo fanfic

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