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sometimesrosy · 4 years

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I am so glad that the show ended in Season 5 with some bonus episodes where we see Bellamy save Clarke, Clarke in pretty dresses and dancing, and playing with doggo

We get to engage with the show anyway we want.

I know I’ve said a lot about sticking to canon, but I got to say, season 7 isn’t worthy of analysis anymore.

I don’t analyze EVERY story. Most tv shows are not complex enough to stand up to analysis. The don’t have a cohesive story that has a narrative you can count on. Until s7 this show DID. Now it doesn’t.

All I can say now about the full season 7 arc is... it had six seasons of comprehensive narrative with Clarke as the hero, Bellamy as the secondary hero and Bellarke as the backbone of the story. It was about what we would do to survive in the apocalypse. It was about learning to lead, and being a moral person. It was about making sure we deserved to survive. It was about healing from trauma and fighting to decide what to do with your own life. It was about looking evil in the eye.... even within yourself, and doing better. It was about how love is NOT a weakness. It was about getting up again every time you get knocked down. It was about fighting for those you love and for humanity.

Season 7 was not this story. It was a different story. It was about the transcendence of the human race as discovered by a cult leader from before the apocalypse. It was about how humanity died and how we were out of chances to try and improve, grow and fix things.

Clarke and Bellamy were only part of an ensemble cast. All of whom died, but Clarke. Murphy, Emori, Miller and Jackson’s stories were completely removed from the main story of transcendence, and were only about their love and ships, but lovely. Echo’s was irrelevant. Octavia was a half hearted resolution to her blodreina/skairipa storyline where she was like, ‘come on guys, let’s not fight.’ Good for her. Although the last war was definitely anticlimactic. Raven got to be the one to change the mind of the all powerful magic alien god, so someone finally gave her credit for how awesome she is, even though her road to get there was mostly irrelevant to the main conflict. Indra’s journey to taking charge of her people was pretty good, but it ended with her just blowing Sheidheda away to finally get rid of him... which was cool but it should have happened about three different times earlier in the season and that it didn’t, for no reason, seems to be to make him a plot device. Now everything in a story is a plot device, but when there’s no reason for them to be there BUT the plot device, that makes it cheap. PLUS his death was anticlimactic. Boom. gone. Over. Stupid. Bellamy’s ending was the worst. It just went poof as if he weren’t important. However, tertiary characters got better deaths than he did. Shit. The pathos of Tor Lemkin in season 1 was what made me fall in love with this show. Bellamy puffed out into nothingness the way Sheidheda did with the earth mover. As if he never existed in the show before.

And then there was Clarke’s ending. Which was HORRIBLE. Not so much horribly written as a nightmare of blaming Clarke for all of humanity’s sins. Like how could you do that to Clarke? She became a CARTOON of her own self, storming through Bardo killing people left and right for vengeance.

Those are the characters.

Except for Raven, Indra and Octavia, none of them had any agency in how this story turned out. None of their goals were realized. They didn’t save anyone. They didn’t lead their people. They didn’t make life better for anyone. They didn’t find love... oh wait. Octavia and Levitt. (ugh so bad and cheesy sorry levtavia fans. it COULD have worked but they didn’t earn it imo. it again seemed forced so that they could have an inside man plot device which they should have had with Bellamy. and speaking, why did levitt, who tortured octavia, get forgiveness while Bellamy, who was their hero forever, did not?)

Clarke, who started out the series wanting to do what was right, ended the series mindlessly gunning down people. And that COULD have been her long term trajectory, except in season five and six, she came back from being broken and alone and committed to doing better, to being better. Not to mention, we DID that broken hero with Octavia in season 3, 4, and 5, and she ALSO came back. Not to mention we did it with Bellamy in season 3 and he ALSO came back. And with Diyoza. Who got her redemption in saving everyone and turning to crystal.

UGH.

In a story about the redemption and salvation of humanity, about not always being sure if they’re worthy of survival, about trying to be the good guys and failing sometimes, season 7 was about-- nope, humanity are pricks. They’re either mindless sheep who follow, or violent creeps who destroy, or psychotic cult leaders who dominate.

LOL. There weren’t any heroes left. No, wait. Last minute clutch players, Raven, Octavia and Indra. Who didn’t have ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE DRIVING CONFLICT THE REST OF THE TIME.

HOLY MACARONI this season was a mess.

And then in the story about the redemption and salvation of the human race, they DELETED the human race by Deus Ex Machina. Just like they deleted Bellamy by unearned brainwashing, and deleted his impact on the story by “so much for together.” The center of the narrative was poofed away, unearned.

Clarke was PUNISHED for everything she did to save them, even when she sacrificed herself. And she was CANONICALLY attempting to save humanity as a whole and canonically the only person who was NOT tribalistic. And they poofed away her character and made her a crazy Dany.

Also the concept of bittersweet ending, of victory at a cost, was completely reversed. This was not a victory at a cost, it was a failure with consolation prize. VERY different ending.

New theory.

Season 7 was written by someone else. None of it fits the rest of the show.

I am now blaming Kim Shumway. The bitch can not, as it turns out, tell stories. Maybe she can write when someone else directs her what to say but she should never be in charge of a story again.

Ulitmately it was JR’s responsibility so he doesn’t get a pass. And he didn’t care enough about his story to see it through but instead was enamored with the prequel.

But this is a different story told by a different vision. It is NOT The 100.

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azalynestudios · 5 years

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(I don't have a tumblr so you'll have to deal with anonymity, I'm afraid) What I came to ask you: when will you admit that you have lost the drive and motivation to continue the project? It has been made clear by now that you bit off more than you can chew, both by constant delays and excuses and by how the writing quality in alpha version have steadily deteriorated. I don't want yo be mean, but someone had to say it. Whatever interest and hype there were for your game, they're mostly gone.

I seriously debated whether I should answer this one or not. Not because I’m not on board with full honesty, but because there’s enough unhappy things in the world and I have been purposefully trying to keep my personal unhappy away from everyone here because you are all so lovely.

But ultimately I decided I should respond just in case there’s lots of people thinking the same thing.

Here’s a short version for people who aren’t up for a discussion of health/mental health/world talk/real talk (and don’t feel bad if that is you!): I have 100% not lost interest or drive for the game. Although it has been taking much longer than anticipated, It’s coming along. And while your opinion on the writing quality may vary, I personally think these last weeks have some of the best moments in the game. If it’s not to your taste anymore or you are sick of waiting, that’s totally fair. Thank you for your support this far and I wish you all the best!

okay the rest under the happy kittens cut:

Okay, real talk time, full disclosure. With a possible side of TMI.

So I don’t think it’s a surprise to anyone when I admit that I haven’t been as great about responding in a timely fashion and this last update took way longer to complete than I would ever have guessed. And it’s recently gotten out of hand in a way I am deeply ashamed of. I feel very much like I have let you all down and I am really truly very sorry. It doesn’t have anything to do with any of you, you have all been (for the most part) completely lovely and kind and patient.

So here the honest story of how we got here.

-So despite everything, I definitely underestimated how much increasing work every week would take. Like I knew it would compound but I didn’t have any idea HOW MUCH it could compound. A big part of the delays is just how much more complicated everything is to write in these later parts of the game. It’s no exaggeration to say just this week seven update took HUNDREDS of hours of HARD work. (Some scenes used to be relatively easy to write. Nothing in week seven is fluff, nothing was easy to write.)

-A couple years ago I was getting a massive amount of asks a day. Trying to keep up with everything was seriously cutting into my work time as well as making me feel stressed and always behind. I started to cut back on responding and noticed that delays led to much less asks/emails. Less asks meant less stress. As things got worse for me the temptation to have delays so I didn’t have so much to respond to also got worse. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t working on other things, it just meant I wasn’t updating and answering properly.

-You guys have to remember that except for the art, I am doing 98% of this game completely solo. It is a lot for any game, especially one of this size.

okay with that all in mind, here’s what’s been happening on my end.

-Trump is elected. Faith in humanity takes a major hit. News/internet becomes a trash fire of bad.

My stress levels and anxiety levels (already high because of the game and always, always feeling like I’m behind and not doing enough) spike to epic levels. I even get a few early gray hairs. (They seem to be gone now, thankfully.)

-For the sake of my mental health I have to drastically cut down on my general internet use and where I go (including tumblr, sadly)

-My health starts to take mysterious nosedives. For like 6 months I’m having serious stomach pain that is keeping me up at night. I’m also puking 3-6 times a week during this time.

Things start to get better and I get back on track.

-My grandma dies out of nowhere from a brain aneurysm. I don’t get into my family situation on purpose, but my grandma is the only person in my entire giant family outside of my mom and my brothers that I have ever really believed actually cared about/loved me as I am.

And presto, I’m back in a bad place.

My stomach issues finally work themselves out, but my immune system still hasn’t recovered. I’m getting minor infections, colds and flus at least once or twice a month even now.

All this time I have been working hard both on the game and on getting my mental and physical health back on track. I have my good moments and my bad.

There are two major ways how all of this has affected the game/my communication with you guys.

1) Like I said, everything is 100% me. If I’m sick or in an anxiety spiral there is no one else to take over to communicate or bug check or whatever. Progress is completely tied to me. Which leads to the next point…

2) There’s a really bad loop. When I’m feeling anxious/stressed/depressed I can’t get everything done that I want to. Which leads to me feeling like shit/super guilty. Which leads to more anxiety and stress. And a deep, deep fear that when I check my email/asks, it will be full of people who are mad at me or disappointed or whatever, and the cycle continues.

I don’t say any of this to make anyone feel bad, or guilty or anything. In my good place, I truly love communicating with you guys and I truly think you are the most amazing people ever.

And I don’t say this as an ‘excuse’ in the sense that I think any of it is anyone’s responsibility to handle but my own. No one is obligated to wait for this game or for me. When I took money, I was taking on a professional obligation. All failures to live up to that and handle things in a more professional and responsible manner are on me and I deeply apologize for not being live up to your expectations.

But no matter how bad things were for me, I never for a moment thought about on giving up on the game. And I promise you, I will finish the game. And it’s honestly very close. (Not that I don’t anticipate the epilogues and million game ending variations to take a long time to write and debug) but compared to where we started we have come lightyears.

You can be assured that everything that has happened during this development I have learned from and taken from heart. I now have a much better idea of what works for me and what doesn’t. In the future, if I manage enough support and interest to continue this as a career, I won’t be making the same mistakes again. Rather than doing a backer/alpha system I most likely will only release major news/announce games when they are close to finished.

Thank you all for your patience support and interest all this time.

(p.s. While I appreciate your concern in advance, I assure I am already on top of what I can to work things out on my end. While I appreciate your good wishes, no health/mental health advice please. Thank you!

#askaly #7kpp #alyupdate #azalynestudios

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botgalhs · 6 years

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Commission for @coolcat101s. Based on @pboperation ‘s BNHAstuck AU. Todoroki and Midoriya meet for the first time, and some misconceptions about romance are had.

Thank you so much for the commission, friend~

Todoroki sighed as he stepped through the portal which he had taken to get to his current location. After taking a quick stock of his surroundings, he started to examine them more closely. His face held its usual amount of blank stoniness, but inside his heart was pumping at about 100 miles per hour.

He was supposed to meet Midoriya, the human, for the first time ever in this place. And god if he wasn't so internally freaking out over the idea that he was going to utterly fuck this all up forever.

But no. He couldn't just let this opportunity slide. It was just talking to someone. No big deal, right? Just talk to him, act like a normal person. And everything would be absolutely fine. Just fine.

“Todoroki? Is that you?”

Oh god he was so screwed he was going to fuck up every single solitary particle of time of this interaction to the point that even a Prince would be impressed at how utterly he had annihilated every part of a moment spent on this vital first conversation.

He looked up to the sky, where the voice had come from, and there he was. Floating with the light of this planet's oddly non-deadly sun at his back and looking right down at him. Everything about him from the bright orange of his God Tier robes to his ethereally sparkling green eyes seemed to be lit up brighter than anything and everything around him.

Midoriya slowly descended to the ground, until they were standing right in front of one another.

Okay, this was it, Todoroki. There had been so much time and preparation and steeling of nerves in anticipation of this moment. Just say something! Anything! Get the conversation ball rolling!!!

“Hello yes, I'm Todoroki.” Aaaand that conversation ball went rolling for just the couple feet it had before it bounded off a cliff, into the deep and inescapable chasm known as complete and utter social failure. “I-I mean-!” he tried to backpedal desperately. “In response to your question earlier, what you just asked. I'm Todoroki,” he finally managed. “And you're... you're Midoriya.” A flush of color welled up in his cheeks, one faint red and one dark blue. He expected the other to, he didn't know, burst out laughing before maybe slapping him in the face? Something befitting how royally he'd just screwed this up. But, perhaps to even more his embarrassment, Midoriya just smiled at him warmly.

“Yeah, I am. It's nice to meet you in person at last, Todoroki... You look better in person than I thought you would.” Todoroki blinket at him, before it became Midoriya's turn to light up blushing. “Or-! I mean-! Not that I thought you were ugly when we were talking! I thought far from the truth with that! I meant it more as a compliment!” He was clearly panicking while trying to backpedal, the one wheel device he was doing so on veering out of control and quite possibly about to have a collision course with the conversation ball which was previously launched into the aether of awkward, and as much as internal Todoroki was craving to have a good old fashioned screaming session with the void over how much he had messed this up, he knew he had to do something to help calm him down. They had spoken through the chat client plenty of times previously, and he was about 90% sure that they had definitely been black flirting. So...

Taking a breath, he reached out a hand, and firmly pressed it to Midoriya's cheek in a solid pap.

“It's alright... you can relax.” Choice words coming from someone who felt like his heart was about to explode at any moment himself.

Midoriya immediately looked at him, the expression on his face more startled or confused than anything else. For a moment Todoroki felt a stab of fear that his bold advance was being rejected on the spot. Was he being too brazen? Had he misread the signals about what quadrant they had been speaking in?!

Thankfully, much to his relief, Midoriya ended up smiling sheepishly in the end, and he put a hand over Todoroki's.

“Yeah, you're right. Sorry, I don't know why I'm getting so worked up over this... I guess it's just sort of nerve wracking, meeting you for the first time like this... I've really been looking forward to it, but I wasn't really sure what to do about it all...” Internally, Todoroki breathed a sigh of relief. Oh good, he hadn't misread the signals. He was accepting his pap, and was even starting to share his feelings with him right there over it. A bit too brazen for him, personally. But then, he was the one who had started with a pap not ten minutes after they met in person, so he was really one to talk. It was nice, too. The warm, comforted smile that Midoriya was giving him...

Worried he would make it too awkward if it went on for too long, he pulled his hand away from Midoriya's cheek, holding it in his other one. Thank goodness he'd had one brief moment of thought to use his right hand instead of his left. He imagined a shock of cold from his left hand on the first pap would not a good first pale impression make.

“So... would you maybe like to go back to my place? Maybe we can relax a bit?” Todoroki started at Midoriya's sudden suggestion, but couldn't find it in him to refuse. He had come over to visit him on his planet, after all. This was his gracious host of the day, he may as well follow along behind him wherever he may lead.

“... Sure. Sounds good.” Midoriya smiled at him (another one of those bright smiles so much more like the gentle suns of this planet than the flesh-boiling sun of Alternia), and Todoroki felt his blood pusher beat against the inside of his chest.

May whatever powers out there in Paradox Space watching him grant him strength.

–

Todoroki looked around nervously, arms just about locked to his sides. When Midoriya had invited him over, he hadn't exactly expected to be immediately brought into his respite block. Not that it wasn't nice, it was just... fast.

Okay, maybe all the strange posters of some large, muscular adult man with a grin that stretched from ear to ear was more than a bit strange, but who was he to judge? He didn't know this adult. Maybe he was his... ancestor or something? (If that was truly the case then holy shit this guy was going to grow to be huge when they got to that age.) Other than that, seemed an... interesting room, anyway. No recuperacoon, just a large flat looking surface covered in snuggleplanes. A desk with a chair on it. And a couple of splaysacks colored in red white and blue in front of a pile of stuffed toys that looked much the same as each other. (He had studiously avoided staring at the pile for too long.)

At present, the both of them were seated on said splaysacks, sunk back into the oddly comforting yet strange texture of the bags. (Not quite the sort of splaysacks he was familiar with, felt like they were more full of tiny round balls instead of the usual sopor slime, but not bad all the same.) Midoriya had also provided a few human snacks, which were spread out on the floor between the two of them. They had gotten through the usual chatter about how he had a nice hive (humans called it a 'house', apparently) and complimenting his food. All the usuals.

Now, though, it was just... very very awkward.

This was supposed to be their first meeting (maybe a date???), and already they had run out of things to talk about. Not good. He had to try and fix this situation, and soon.

“So...” Midoriya spoke first, to his own relief. For all his thoughts about it, he legitimately had no idea what to say to break the ice. “... I know this is just our first time meeting each other and all,” he went on, “but have you ever... you know... done anything like this before?”

“...No,” he answered honestly. “I've never gone on a pale date before, so I'm really... not sure what we should be doing. I mean, I've read books and all, but... really not much else on the subject.” And not like romance novels would really do well in advising on how to pale date a human. Midoriya nodded understandingly, and he felt a weight lift from his chest. As long as he understood what he was trying to get at there.

“Oh yeah, I mean. This sort of stuff is... kind of not really the stuff you can study for. And that's coming from me,” Midoriya laughed. He had a nice laugh. Bright and cheerful. And very very genuine. The human tilted his head at him. “Something happy come to mind, Todoroki?” He hadn't even realized he was smiling until Midoriya mentioned it, but when he did,” he flustered immediately. “Oh, um... sort of? I was mostly just thinking about how you have a nice laugh-” his hand sprung up and slapped himself in the mouth, staring at him in terror. Oh fuck he was not supposed to say that aloud.

Midoriya blushed almost immediately, hands shifted nervously in his lap.

“Oh, um. I see...” God damn it, why did he have to say that?! He was so sure he had blown it with the pap, and now this was all happening for god's sake why- “Well, um... I think you have a really nice smile?” … Oh. Well, that was... unexpected. But not entirely unpleasant. Not at all. Neither was the hand that suddenly was put over his own. Okay yeah, this was happening right now, wasn't it? “And I think you're really smart, and I feel... relaxed, around you.” Wow, laying it on thick now. But then Midoriya had a tendency to ramble on chat, so this wasn't too strange- “And... I think you're really handsome.” Okay, what?

“Um... thanks?” Todoroki grimaced. This was sounding an awful lot like a red solicitation. Wait... was this? Shit, should he ask? Had he read the signs wrong? “Um... I think you look really nice, too, but... I'm sorry, did I read this wrong?” Midoriya's face turned confused, and he blinked.

“Read what wrong? What do you mean?”

“I mean... I thought that we were going more in a pale direction. But you seem like you might be going red? So, did I... Did I read this wrong? Did you flip red? Or was this always red for you?”

“... Red? Pale? What are you talking about?” Midoriya had withdrawn his hand, and looked more confused than ever. Todoroki opened his mouth, about to ask what in all of Paradox Space he meant that he didn't know... Then it hit him like a subjugglator smashing him in the face with a gigantic bloody juggling club.

Human. Midoriya was a human, not a Troll... And possibly didn't even have any quadrants. Had he ever asked that?... No. No of course he fucking hadn't.

“Oh my god, I am an idiot,” Todoroki bowed his head into his hands, pressing his palms against his eyes. Midoriya looked at him with mild alarm. “Of course you don't know what moirails are, or matesprits. God why did I think this was going well, I'm so stupid...” He groaned into his hands loudly, feeling (not for the first time since meeting this human) the press of hot and cool of his respective hands against his face for all of this. This was not going well in the absolute slightest and he was just embarrassing himself more and more by the minute.

“Well, yeah. I don't know anything about more-rails or mayte sprits, or anything like that,” Izuku admitted, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. “... But, I'm always up for learning about new things.” Todoroki looked up at him in shock, and all he saw was that kind, warm smile again. “Do you think you might be willing to teach me?” The Troll boy stared at the human, the silence around them thick, but hopeful, and at last, he smiled back.

“Well, moirails, pale romance, are represented by diamonds...”

#homestuck #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnhastuck #shouto todoroki #izuku midoriya #fic #my work #sfw #commission #commissions #tododeku

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eldri-sv · 3 years

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17 - Hitoshi Shinsou

Kaori Shinsou has always been fascinated by people's minds. She is one of the best students in her Criminal Psychology course at U.A. and - being the lucky girl she is - her professor is not only one handsome dude, but is also working on the case of the serial killer Stain - a case that has been going on for years. As she is about to become Professor Aizawa's TA during the next term, a lot of other interesting cases start popping up all over the country... AU, OC x Aizawa

With rays that will cure me of the pain that keeps my lungs tight

Hitoshi Shinsou was understandably upset, as he got back to the changing rooms. Things hadn't gone as bad as they could have gone and the people from his course that were watching were actually cheering for him and people were commenting on how well he did, but he still wasn't too content.

As he got back out of the changing rooms after showering, he noticed someone standing around there, waiting. Kaori. God, he was never happier to see her. He had seen her very shortly during lunch break, so he could get her his shirt, but then she was off to have a quick shower.

She had been wearing a man's coat that was way too big on her and her uniform blouse underneath looked like it had blood stains all over it. Hitoshi had been quite worried about her, but he hoped that now the time for an explanation had come. After all he was out - he had lost the sparring match during the first bracket and that was it. The one thing that comforted him, was that everyone else came from basic training and was training like this pretty much every day.

"Hey, champ." she greeted him with a slight smile. She still looked incredibly tired. Hitoshi huffed.

"Not really. Dropped out first round." he mumbled as she walked towards him. His heart felt heavy, and he didn't even know why. He knew that we wouldn't win this thing realistically. But still it felt like such a damn failure.

"But you made it into the sparring rounds at all! Toshi, that's huge. Come here." Kaori said and held out her arms. Hitoshi hugged her tightly. Every time he hugged his sister he realized how he had gotten taller than her. Kaori was maybe around 5'5", while he had grown to 5'9" during the last two years. It still surprised him every single time, especially since he had always looked up to his sister.

"You did so well, Toshi. I was sitting up there and watching and I heard a lot of people say how well you did down there. No reason to be sad." she told him. But for some reason that made Hitoshi even sadder. He could just feel all the pressure of the last few weeks burst out of him, as he started crying.

"I'm... I'm sorry, there's... really no reason... for me... to cry like a baby." he mumbled, embarrassed about being this upset about something so small. It really shouldn't matter that much to him. Of course, he had hoped to get all the way to the top, but he knew from the start that wasn't happening. But still... he couldn't help it. He just couldn't help what he wanted in his heart.

"Hey, hey, come on. Let's sit down." Kaori said and sat down in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Hitoshi followed suit and leaned against the wall, quickly wiping the tears from his face. He just felt tired and exhausted now. Maybe he had let it all out already and he could get over it.

"I just... I just really wanted to get into the Criminology course. The one combined with basic training. But with this, I doubt I'll make it. Maybe I should just settle for doing Psychology and get it over with. Sure, it won't be as good, but I can still get into Criminal Psychology later on with it, right?" he told her, feeling more and more empty. This was terrible. This was just terrible.

"Hey, don't worry about that. I think, you caught Mr. Aizawa's attention during the fight. I'd rarely see him this enthusiastic. You'll be fine. See what happens during the next few years. If you want, I can talk to him about possibly transferring you and he might be able to pull some strings. It'll be fine, Toshi. You did really well out there." Kaori replied, still hugging him, running her hand through his hair.

"I don't know... if I can't do it on my own, did I even really do it?" he wanted to know. This all just felt really discouraging to Hitoshi. He knew this was just an initial thing, it was probably the stress and everything. It still stung.

"Yeah. Toshi, you did amazing. Now see what happens, I'd say that Mr. Aizawa might have a word with you soon. If not, then let me know and I'll talk to him. We get along well, he won't mind me asking about it. It'll be fine." Kaori replied.

"You're the best sister." Hitoshi said, sniffling a little.

"You're the best brother." Kaori answered him with a grin.

"You know what's terrible about it, too?"

"What?"

"Kaminari totally saw me look all weak and shit out there."

Kaori gave him a weird look and then started laughing out loud. It was a real concern in the back of Hitoshi's head, but of course it wasn't really the worst thing for him at the moment. He laughed with her and it honestly felt good to be laughing again. Maybe things weren't so bad. Maybe it was time for a plan B.

"If that's a reason for him not to go out with you, then he's not worth your time anyway." Kaori replied, still laughing a little.

"As if I'd ever be brave enough to ask him out." Hitoshi commented, looking up at the ceiling and smiling. Denki Kaminari had somehow wedged his way into his heart. He had always seen him working a part-time job in his favourite coffee shop during his last year of high school. Of course he still kept going to the same coffee shop when he started university, but then one day he had seen him hanging out with a group from basic training and he had almost lost it there and then.

"I'm pretty sure you'll find a good moment some day. I mean, you've been pining for him for such a long time, it would be a shame to not even try." Kaori said. Hitoshi laughed and nodded.

"So. Whose coat is that? Because that is definitely not yours." he asked. Kaori blushed a little.

"It's uh... It's Mr. Aizawa's coat." she answered. Hitoshi gave her a questioning look. He had heard some whispers about how well his sister was getting on with the professor and knowing Kaori she definitely had a crush on him. Her blushing just confirmed that theory even more.

"Kao-chan, how the hell did you get that? You have to be careful, people are talking about you. It looks pretty bad." he said. Kaori sighed and buried her face in her hands for a while, before looking up at him again.

"I know it looks bad, but really... it is completely harmless. There is nothing going on, okay? Even if there was, I think he'd grade my papers stricter than anything, just to make sure there was no wrong impression. Toshi, I'm aware people are talking, but... this was really harmless." she replied.

"So what happened?" Hitoshi wanted to know. He felt a little bad, putting his sister on the spot like this. He knew she was aware of the rumours and he knew she used to beat herself up about them, but she had started to just ignore them and be above them. Obviously they were still getting to her.

"Well, I was on work studies, doing the night shift, there was an incident which left me texting Aizawa and asking him whether he could pop by Hosu and give me a lift to the Sports Festival, so I could be there to support you. And because of that... incident... my uniform was all bloody and whatnot, so Aizawa gave me his coat, so I could cover the blood stains up a little. Imagine I had walked in there in my blouse full of blood. That would not have been good." Kaori explained.

"Shit, what happened at work studies?" Hitoshi wanted to know, more concerned about her sister getting hurt than about her being the topic of some rumours. He had seen the blouse shortly and it did look really bad.

"It's confidential. Will probably be on the news this evening, though. I might tell you at home, alright?" she answered.

"Sure. Did you sleep at all?" Hitoshi wanted to know. Kaori just shrugged, looking exhausted for the first time since he saw her after losing the fight.

"I slept in the taxi on the way here. I collapsed one time when we got back-up coming in from the police station and then on the way to the taxi. Aizawa had to carry me to the car, it was really embarrassing." she replied and sighed.

"Jeez, Kao-chan, no wonder there's rumours. You just get into the weirdest situations with him." Hitoshi remarked, not even thinking about what he was saying. Kaori rested her head on her knees.

"It's not fair. It's not like I'm trying to get into these situations or like I'm bribing him with anything to get good grades or anything. I get my good grades, because I study all night. All that stuff just happens. Why can't people just leave it alone already?"

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean it like that... if you had the chance you would fuck him, though, right?" Hitoshi asked curiously. Aizawa was 100% Kaori's type and she knew it full well. She was absolutely crushing on him.

"Hell yeah. I'm not dumb." she answered and laughed a little. Hitoshi grinned.

"Good, because you'd be insane not to. But seriously, don't do anything stupid, okay? And if you do... well, don't get caught, alright?" he replied.

"Oh my God, I'm not going to have an affair with my professor! Like, I probably wouldn't be able to say no, but I just am not going to do it. Alright? And if I did, I wouldn't tell you about it." she said.

"Yikes, I thought we were besties." Hitoshi mumbled when he heard some noise from the changing room. The door opened and a small guy with full blond hair walked out. Denki Kaminari. He looked tired and exhausted and had a good few scratches and bruises on him. Hitoshi still thought he was the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes upon. He just looked... so cute.

"Hey, how did the fight go?" Hitoshi asked him, as he was passing. Kaminari turned around and looked like it took him a moment to realize who was talking to him. When he realized, his face lit up.

"Oh hey. Didn't know you went to U.A., too. Crazy, man. Fight went alright, but I lost. But hey, at least I got in the top 16, huh? It'll be better next year." he replied with a big smile on his face.

"Yeah, sure. I guess, I'll see you around then?" Hitoshi answered, fully aware of Kaori's eyes on him.

"Sure, see you at the coffee shop tomorrow morning." Kaminari answered and walked off. Hitoshi waited until he had passed a corner, before squealing a little and looking at Kaori who was giving him a wide grin.

"Damn, Toshi, that was kinda cute. You managed to make small talk. Never seen you do that." she remarked.

"Oh, shut up!"

"Well, I guess I better head out and bring this coat back to Mr. Aizawa. Text me where you're sitting, I'll watch the rest of the festival with you then."

#inside your mind #aizawa #shota aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa x oc #fanfiction #aizawa fanfiction #quirklessau #shinkami #hitoshi shinso #hitoshi shinsou #shinso #shinsou

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ecotone99 · 5 years

Text

[MF] Seasons of the Gunslinger

Genesis 1:3 And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.

Sun-baked, sun fried, sunburned, sun destroyed. Just another goddamn day in the sun. Jesus, will this sun ever go down?

Finally the sun dips below the horizon and that ball of fire gives me the rest I’ve been hoping for. I give a tug on the reins and my horse stops.

My left hand removes my hat and my right works through my sweaty hair. A deep breath of the already cooling air fills my lungs. For the first time in many hours I really look at the country I’m passing through and appreciate its beauty. The rocks, covered with colorful lichen, poke out through the bluish sagebrush. Low juniper trees outline the washes and draws that work through this mesa like veins.

Ahead, I spot my campsite for the night. A low ridge about a mile off to the south. Ought to be some wood there and the orientation of the ridge should block the wind if it kicks up. I'll also have a great view of my back trail. Not that I am expecting pursuit but I will have plenty of good light for an hour or more anyway.

There is a cluster of large sandstone boulders that will shield the fire and a small patch of cheatgrass for my horse. My gun belt and hat are set to the side to take full advantage of the cooling air. The horse gets a rub down and then a small fire heats a large cup of water. I drop a chunk of hard tack and another of jerky in the boiling water. I eat this poor man’s soup as I watch nightfall cover my back trail. When full night arrives, I douse the fire and rinse the cup.

Time to lean against a rock and listen to the night. It is finally cool and my eyes drift closed.

I am not jerked awake. I’m just suddenly aware that I am awake. My eyes open and I see the waning gibbous moon splashing it’s silver light over the open plain. I am aware of my horse and can hear it breathing as it dozes.

I’m aware of something else. I am no longer alone.

My hand snakes out for the Walker Colt in its holster and the large pistol swings up. It settles on the dark apparition that sits against a boulder, some ten feet away.

The shadowy figure doesn't flinch. It does not react at all.

I wait. I have found it wise that when you’ve done what you need to do, waiting is the best thing to do next. It is also the hardest thing to do.

The silence stretches. I notice that it is now truly silent. A normal night, with its bugs and beasties, hums with life and quiet sounds. Now there is a true deep silence that is so rare in the natural world.

It seems odd that I can’t see the face of the figure. In the light of the moon I can see most things. This shape seems to swallow all light.

I wait.

The man-shaped thing waits.

“Alright, stranger, what brings you to my camp?” I guess I lose this waiting game but I’m still the one with the pistol.

Smoothly, the figure leans forward. Just for a moment, the hatless figure is just blackness and burning eyes. Then, as if it is moving out of a shadow that does not exist, I see fine, delicate features. Those eyes, they burn above an angelic smile for just a breath and then they resolve to a perfect black. The smile holds and I confirm my suspicion that this is a man.

“You called and I am here.” The smile remains as he speaks.

“I believe you're mistaken, friend. I’ve been actively avoiding folk for quite some time now. Can’t think of man nor beast I’d call to me.” My voice stays as steady as I would like, mostly.

“I have been called a beast, The Beast actually.” The smile seems to stretch even further, although it doesn’t seem possible. He chuckles a bit then and leans back. “And I suppose I am often mistaken for a man.”

“Listen Mister, I wouldn’t say I like killing but I have done it before. Please convince me not to shoot you just so I can go back to sleep.” I try to make sense of what the hell is going one but make no headway. I have never seen a man so comfortable with a steady hand holding a gun on him.

“Sean, let’s dispense with the banter and get down to business. I’ve had just about every threat imaginable leveled at me and yet… here I am.” My guest spreads his hands and executes a seated bow.

The name he calls me surprises me. I can’t remember the last time I was called by that name. Must have been in the old country, I am sure. Even on my Army papers I had put Michael instead. That name was easier to get rid of than my accent, but even that faded. It faded just like everything else, ground down in that war.

“Do you and I know each other, mister? ‘Cause I can’t seem to place you.” I am feeling the weight of my pistol so I lower my hand to a more comfortable position. “I haven’t heard that name in seven years or more.”

“Right, right, but I know your name, Not just the name you used in New York City and in the ‘Fightin’ 69th’. Not even the one you used back in Ireland. I know your true name. The one my Father called you when he breathed life into you.” The man tugs at his chin and looks up.”Shall I tell you some of my names or have you guessed yet?”

My mind scrambles and kicks like an armadillo digging his burrow. My heartbeats get faster and I feel something welling up inside me. A sick dizzy feeling that makes me shiver involuntarily. The gun sinks lower and I think…”Diabhal.” My mind slips to Irish in my surprise. “You’re Old Scratch aren’t you.”

The Devil’s smile seems to stretch again this time I know for sure no human could smile so wide.

“I’m not even thirty yet. Is it my time already?” My heart sinks, not sure if I want the answer.

“Oh, no. Sean Michael O’Flannery.” the way he says my name each syllable sounds like the strike of a bell reverberating in the back of my eyes. “Not your time. I’ll tell you a secret. Your choices change the time of your death all the time. Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” He begins to laugh now. A deep melodious laugh that gets just a little shrill before it cuts off.

“So what is it that I can do for you then?” I say as I put the big Walker back in it’s worn holster.

“Oh young man we’ll get to that. We’ll definitely get to that. But first things at the beginning, end things at the end and my things all along the way. Let’s talk about your call and your desires first. We can save the other bits and pieces for dessert.” His hands begin to dance around each other in a washing motion.

“I didn't call…” I start to protest. He holds up his hand and shakes his head.

“Skip the silly and frankly, childish word games. We both know you wanted me to come to make you into something else. To make you unstoppable, a force of nature to bring justice and settle old wrongs. I really thought you would call me during the war. But you held so tightly to my Father then.” He sighs and shakes his head in such an over dramatic way it is almost comical. “Now you accept reality. Even though He is omniscient and omnipresent He rarely gets involved. But I am always here.”

I feel the old familiar rush. The anger and battle lust that has made me who I am and kept me alive. “He NEVER comes! Never answers!” The venom in my voice is fueled by all those memories bubbling suddenly to the fore. My breathing is fast and my hands clench.

The man who claims to be a fallen angel just smiles and nods approvingly. “Yes, Sean. You see, that is why I came. That right there. I am eternal and I have hated for so long. It is always refreshing to see it burn anew.” A pipe seems to appear from nowhere in his left hand and a lit match in his right. He leans back and puffs. “Eternal but busy, Sean. Do you want to hear my offer or not?”

"I'll hear your words and I will keep in mind you are the Prince of Lies as you go." I say.

"The Prince of so much more than lies but I accept your sceptical condition." He puffs again at the pipe and exhales a cloud of smoke so dense it seems solid. “Sean my lad, I have seen you. Seen your heart laid bare. I have heard you. I have heard that voice inside you that speaks only the truth."

"Cease your own word games and speak plainly." I say. "I'm tired and you have said you are busy. Let's get on with this so I can deny you and go back to sleep."

His finger tips touch beneath his chin with the pipe clenched in his teeth, his shark smile stretching again. "Ah, the sweet taste of hubris." He leans in and his eyebrows arch. "Sean, my boy; faith and fear both require you to believe in something that doesn't exist. I see you have put aside your faith. My offer is to take away your fear. Fear of death, fear of hurt, fear of failure all gone. I will make you immune to disease and plague. I will make you immune to damage from accident or violence. I wish to make you the Achilles of your day. An indomitable warrior who fears nothing on the earth. I will do this, not for your soul, but for your service. My Father has cast me down for my grievous offenses and I have long ago accepted that. My goal is not to add souls to my empire of pain and torture. I will earn the forgiveness of my Father by assisting the development of his creation. The term of service will be one hundred years. You will take my directions during this time and at the completion of the term you will go to your just reward."

He leans back and his smile turns into a smirk. He curls his leg to his chest. He rests elbow on knee and cheek on hand. Waiting.

My mind races. The possibilities and opportunities fill me and I ran through the things I might do. I have wished for this exact power over death so many times. I am suddenly shocked to realize I am instantly considering this. A deal with the devil.

Cautiously, I ask, "100 years of invulnerability in exchange for me doing things for you? I cannot be your slave for a century. There is no advantage for me."

He laughs and slaps his leg "Oh, no not a slave. Just when I say something needs done or someone needs taken care of, you do it."

"Too open ended." I scoff.

"How about once a month." He counters quickly.

"Four times, once per season."I fire back.

"Done." He says.

"I get to choose whether to do it or not." I push a little.

His face goes stern and cold. "Impossible." He says flatly.

"I had to try.' I grin.

His smile returns and his hand comes toward me in one graceful flowing motion,"Seal it." He says and the words are in my head as well as in my ears.

I stare at that hand. I think of all the tales about making a deal with the devil. Have I heard of one that didn't go badly in the end? Somewhere in my memory is a story of a Saint that renounced God and turned to the underworld for power. Later he was able to have an archbishop or cardinal burn his contract. Of course I know well the story of the fool Faustus who sold his soul and wasted the magic he was given.

"I become your assassin for a century. Four times per year, one for each season. In return I keep my soul but become immune to all damage, all the time?" I attempt to state the deal as I understand it.

"Yes." He says " I have things that need done and I judge that you can do what I need. I have tried other contracts when I had different aims but now…" he shrugs."Your soul is yours to do with what you choose. It is much more...entertaining that way. Besides I have others that must be collected. So they can begin their torment and before they do too much harm."

"How long do I have to make this decision." I ask.

"Until I leave. So a few minutes." His smile is huge.

Slowly I extend my hand. Thinking about what this means for me and for the things I have fought for in my life. As I take his hand in a firm grip, I can't help smiling. The smile feels huge and I am sure it stretches impossibly far across my face.

Second Timothy 3:1-5 “But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty.

Chilled to the bone, icy as a whore’s heart...cold as ice. Just another cold empty night. Jesus is the goddamn sun ever going to come up?

Finally the sun begins to lighten the sky and the temperature begins to rise. The truck rolls to a halt in the gravel. I brush the stray pieces of windshield off my lap.

I sit alone. It’s always my preference I suppose, but today it seems particularly fitting. I’m expecting company but I will enjoy this peace while I can. I reckon I’ll come out of this deal just about the way I went in. The warm sunshine filters through the trees and the morning breeze stirs my hair.

The road I have been driving down has ended. I know I lost my pursuers some hours ago but I just kept on driving. A feeling of being on the edge of a cliff comes over me. It is the date I have thought of a million times.

I don’t bother getting out. I just lean back into the upholstered seat and stare out the ragged hole that used to hold the windshield. My pack sits on the seat next to me and I reach and pull it over. I dig in one of the side pouches and dump out a can of Hoppe’s Number 9 gun cleaning solvent and several boxes of special order pistol ammunition before I find the flask.

I have no food in the bag. I don’t need to eat. Haven’t felt hunger pangs in a century now. I still like to eat a well prepared dish, but I have learned to keep it small. I eat only rarely and when I really want to because I also don’t have to shit if I don’t eat. I can’t describe the pleasure of not having to indulge bodily functions.

I am a living stereotype when it comes to whiskey and being Irish though. The burn is familiar and I take half the contents in one drink, knowing that my “condition” will knock the buzz down almost immediately.

I don’t need to sleep anymore either but I still enjoy it quite a bit. The hum in my ears from the whiskey and the sun beam hitting my face makes me drowsy. My head lolls back on the head rest, and my eyes drift closed.

I am not jerked awake. I am simply aware of a presence where a moment ago there was thin air. Several low sounds penetrate my drowsy sleep. I haven’t been afraid for a century. I’m just curious what is happening next to me.

I look to my right and see the old bastard rifling through my pack. It appears that he is laying my worldly possessions out on the dash of the pickup. The sun is fully up now and I guess that it is probably seven thirty.

“Live hard and die young. Isn’t that the saying you used? For your plans after the war?”asks the eternal being I have come to call Samael.

“I look at you and I see what happens when you only do only the first and not the second.”He speaks a bit absently and then looks up at me.

I feel that same feeling I always get when I lock gazes with an angel. It is a strange mixture of trepidation and excitement. It is the fear of a being that is orders of magnitude more powerful than I am; combined with the sure and certain knowledge that I am in some unknowable way, a superior creation of God.

My human mind has struggled for many decades to understand the complicated and convoluted history of the choirs of angels and their presence in the many theologies of the world. Never with much success. The truth as I understand it, about the twisted blending of all religions that represents the actual situation, is that there exists in this ancient and expanding universe more than we can understand. It may be more than we should understand. Suffice it to say all the religions have it right and all of them have it wrong.

Samael looks at me and says.

”So we come full round and find ourselves in the same place. It does remind me of when I sacrificed myself to myself. Oh Sean, that was a long nine days I tell you now, but the knowledge gained was worth it all.”

He closes his right eye tightly and looks at me as if I am meant to understand his cryptic crap.

I look at him quizzically. I have seen and done so many things. Read and heard so many tales. It is difficult for my mortal mind to hold and then retrieve it all. Slowly it occurs to me. I get a mental picture of Samael as One-Eyed Odin from Norse legend. He is said to have hung himself from the magical tree, Yggdrasil, and stabbed himself with his own spear. This sacrifice of himself to himself was made to show his willingness to sacrifice everything for knowledge. The knowledge he sought was the secret of magical runes. He hung that way staring into the Well of Urd for nine days until he understood all the magic.

“An Odin reference, Samael? Are you telling me that was you as well?”

I roll my eyes and shrug.

“I guess I pictured you as more of a Loki.”

Samael takes a cartridge for my pistol, a Linebaugh .500 and makes it roll across the knuckles of his right hand. It seems to disappear from one side and reappear on the other. I know this is only the dexterity of his fingers and no magic trick. I have learned this trick and many others by watching him.”Oh no. That was Asmodeus. If you knew him better you would understand.”

I don’t bother continuing this discussion. It isn’t what either of us want to talk about.

I wait a moment and I say, “Today was 400.”

His grin disappears. He looks at me seriously and says, “Yes it is. Is it true? Does time heal all wounds?”

“100 years and four seasons in each. I have often wondered why you didn’t tell me that those years would not be consecutive. Why you never mentioned that I would be dragged willy nilly into all of history and prehistory on your errands”

My voice has the implacable push of my thoughts behind it and I ignore his questions.

“I suppose that being a timeless being, with the ability to travel in the fourth dimension you know as time, as easily as the other three; it didn’t seem all that important.”

He shrugs and looks out toward the mountains to the east of us.

“I probably would have said yes anyway. Then, I certainly would. I am not sure about now. The things I know and have seen… I don’t know.”

The weight of my heavy soul seems to crush the breath from me. I voice the thought that has been running through my mind since I lost my pursuers some time after midnight.

“Samael, the lines keep running through my head.

I will show you something different. Your shadow at morning striding behind you, Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust. I was never sure what T.S. Elliot was talking about in The Wastelands poem but I think I know now.”

Suddenly Samael turns to me with an unholy intensity.

“So what now? Is that what you want to ask me? The answer is you are the one who knows that answer my boy. I spoke the truth to you when I said you can go your way and await your just reward. My Father’s gift of free will” He flips his hand in a dismissive motion.

I feel angry at this for some reason.

“So you just release me like a worn knife that cannot take another sharpening? Take the gifts away and walk off?” My voice begins to rise, “You had me put a lot of credits into your account with your Father, Yahweh! Did I commit 400 sins or 400 services? I don’t even know anymore. The lines are so blurred. I can’t see where I have been, let alone where I am going! My shadow before and behind is invisible and I fear this unknown. Goddamnit! I have seen fear in a handful of dust! I am an old man and I don’t know what comes next!”

I slump down in the seat again, the words leaving my mouth as a whisper.

“I don’t even know what I have left.”

Samael turns on the seat. He places his hand on my shoulder. He looks at me with eyes that are both patrician and paternal.

“I will help you if you want me to, Sean.”

I can’t help it. My eyes mist and my throat gets tight. I won’t cry. But Lord I want to.

“Sean, you have done me a great service, there is no doubt. Look at me, tell me what you want? Let’s use your poem as a metaphor then. Are you Sybil of Cumae that Elliot stole from an older source for his opening lines? Given the gift of long life but now trapped in a cage as a curiosity. Do you feel trapped in your long lifespan?

Sibylla ti theleis; respondebat illa: apothanein thelo...Do you want to die, Sean?”

His look is tender, his voice is soft, and the Latin from my favorite poem washes over me like a warm bath in winter.

“Perhaps you are the fisherman from the end of the poem? Will you be like him and use fragments to shore up the ruin? Will you carry on. Push on into the glorious land where Hercules and Beowulf await you? Will you stay with me and cross into legend as a hero?”

The energy flows in his words. Never increasing in volume but with the power of certainty, alluring and solid, infused throughout.

“I will do either for you, with an equal amount of love. For the first, just lay your head back and rest, forever. For the second, take my hand as you did once before. This time with no conditions on your immortality. Be your own man, bound to me only by, dare I say it, friendship.”

His left hand stays comfortingly on my shoulder as a symbol of the release that awaits in death. His right hand extends toward me, the same way I saw it all those years ago in the San Juan mountains of Colorado.

I think for a long time.

Slowly and deliberately I...

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marvelousmoviemarvelthon-blog · 6 years

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Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol 2

Wow am I torn on this one… on the one hand I loved the first Guardians movie, hailed it as what the new Star Wars should have been (the prequels, the Force Awakens is a very good flick), etc, etc. What we get in the sequel is the closest any director has, been allowed by Marvel, to put out a movie that is a singular, unaltered vision. I should be hailing this as the greatest MCU property yet. But I’m not, for me, the movie was kind of a bloated mess…

Ok, back up… on second viewing, it wasn’t as bad as I am making out. Sequences that seemed twice as long in the cinema weren’t nearly as excruciating at home, and certain main characters didn’t seem as much asshole-y as before. But, yeah, overall the movie suffers because of this.

It may be because I’m getting older now, but I notice that I appreciate movies that either feel less than their running time or are themselves, short. Mad Max: Fury Road felt short because it trimmed all the fat, same with The Raid: Redemption, even old favourites like Jurassic Park used a chugging story and intensity to make them feel shorter than their actual lengths. On the other hand, I’m never going to complain when a movie slows down to benefit character development or to let the audience just hang out in a universe, we loved Frances Ha and Inside Llewellyn Davis, and hell, Lost in Translation is in my top 5 favourite movies and that is essentially about nothing but characters hanging out. Recently, Blade Runner 2049 impressed with its confidence in just letting the audience sit and soak in the beauty and intensity of its world.

However, in Guardians 2, these moments contribute to both characters and the film’s, not to mention to rinse all the potential comedy out of the scenes as possible. But they rarely feel like they contribute anything beyond stretching out the joke. And look, I’m not trying to say that Guardians 2 3must compare to any of the movies I have just mentioned, I think all movies that feature superfluous scenes should never make them feel like wasted time, but when it gets to a point where we are watching a 6-minute-long scene of Rocket the Racoon foil random goons in a forest, or Yondu spending a further 5 minutes killing similarly homogeneous goons. Or, most frustratingly, watching Groot endlessly retrieving the wrong items when tasked to collect Yondu’s special headpiece, which is another 5 minutes that could’ve been shortened without hurting the movie’s comedic drive.

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On that note, I think this movie has a bit of a character problem. It is obvious that the makers had a plan to make the relationships between Peter Quill/Ego/Yondu, and Gamora/Nebula the driving force of the story (which I will get back to later). However, this seems to have been at the expense of the other core characters, where, to get the main players to the points needed to move their narratives forward, the selfishness/stupidity/tactless-ness of the rest have been turned up to 11.

Again, caveat, I don’t mind watching characters who are unlikeable (Inside Llewellyn Davis comes to mind again), but this works best when the horrible decisions of the characters takes them to places where their unlikability or selfishness is turned back on them and lessons are learned (or arcs are completed), think of Scrooge in the Christmas Carol or even Tony Stark in the first Iron Man. However, Rocket, Groot and, to a much lesser extent, Drax act in ways that don’t make me completely behind them a lot of the time. Rocket kicks off the story by stealing a battery from the Sovereign (a completely selfish act that contradicts his development in the previous movie) and then spends the rest of the movie generally being an asshole to the rest of his friends, without much of a justifiable redemption at the end. Groot seems like a completely different character from the previous film, gone is the slightly dense yet competent adult with a heart of gold, he is now an asinine, bratty child who seems to actively work against the goals of the protagonists. Drax is not as poorly affected by this, he just has his obliviousness and tactlessness turned up a bit too high, although he gets some nice scenes with newcomer character, Mantis.

I dunno, this may work for other people, but it really gets under my skin to be watching seemingly different characters from the previous movie act in ways that push them too far from their characterisations…

On the other side of this coin however, is the fantastic work done with Peter, Ego and Yondu. At times these MCU movies can feel a bit too much like a well-oiled machine, with little feeling or emotion involved. But, these Guardian’s movies can wring some good feelings out of its stories. The first movie told a tale of a team of hero’s coming together (at times) better than the Avengers movie did. In the sequel, Yondu and Peter’s relationship is tested and explored via the intrusion of Ego into their world. In an industry where the majority of superhero characters are driven by the loss/failures of their parents and guardians, its great to see a movie that deal with parental figures being both lost and failures that doesn’t then drive don’t Peter Quill to becoming a virtuous, avenging character. His character is already established, the actions of his parental figures don’t change him completely, they just push him to a new understanding of them and himself. That’s some great character work right there, its also simple and somewhat subtle, which is something these MCU films need more of…

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To a lesser extent, the Gamora/Nebula relationship also hits some good notes with multiple double-crosses and a sort-of reconciliation that steps towards being something adult. However, the issues from the previous movie carries over her, where Gamora’s and Nebula’s enmity stems from the way their father treated them, but this has only been told to us…

So, there you go, my very mixed thoughts on the second movie, as much as I liked the first one, I have t admit to this one being a bit of a disappointment. One thing I will say about it is that the move truly a singular vision. None of the goofy, off-the-wall humour, eclectic soundtrack choices, colourful visuals or effecting character arcs would have happened if this was more of a studio meddled film. And I’m very happy about that. The success of the first Guardians of the Galaxy (and the reduced commerciality of the characters, I’m sure) meant the studio was willing to let writer/director James Gunn create the vision he wanted, even if it was somewhat disappointing, this is definitely the way I want all movies to go. Not profit-led, but creator-led…

The Super-Marvel-O-Score We gave Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol 2 a score of 81/100 (Jen seriously upvoted me on this one…)

Next Time I try something a little different by comparing Spiderman: Homecoming to its forbear (and possibly the best superhero movie ever made) Sam Raimi’s Spiderman 2, to understand how artistic vision can make a classic character like Spiderman more interesting a resonant. Lets see how that one goes…

Stray Thoughts

- Speaking of comedy, it seems that this is the movie where the MCU movies officially switched gears from being action driven with some comedy to full on comedy/action driven. Is there going to be some tonal whiplash when we get to the Infinity War movies I wonder?

- I really liked seeing the Cliffhanger reunion with Sylvester Stallone and Michael Rooker, I would’ve loved it if they could’ve somehow got John Lithgow in there too.

- On the other hand, there was a potential Tango and Cash reunion that didn’t happen!

- This was the one of the few times where the future big bad in the post credits sequence (Adam??) were we didn’t know anything about the reference being set up…

- I would love to see a full movie of Stakar’s (Stallone) original Guardians, including Charlie-27 (Ving Rhames), Starhawk (Michelle Yeoh), Martinex (Michael Rosenbaum, the greatest Flash), Mainframe (voiced by Miley Cyrus) and Krugarr.

- I know its both corny-as-hell and ironised-out-of-existence, but I love the Guardians Inferno song by David Hasselhoff (and Marvel Studios). I appreciate the commitment this film series has to its 70’s/80’s aesthetics and the fourth wall breaking craziness of the song video…

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#Film Review #film #the film list #movies #movie review #marvel #MCU #Guardians of the Galaxy #star lord #gamora #rocket racoon and groot #Drax #david hasselhoff

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themomsandthecity · 7 years

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Mom's Plea to Always Trust Your Gut Instincts Will Make You Hug Your Kids Tighter

After a terrifying episode with her daughter, Margaret Bradford wants all parents to understand the importance of trusting your gut and advocating for your kids - even if that means going against doctors. "Parents, I say this with every ounce of sincerity I have - YOU know your children better than anyone else in this world," the impassioned mom wrote on Facebook. "You have been there with them for everything. You have changed every diaper, cuddled away every tear, kissed every booboo, cheered every milestone, hugged away every scary monster, and rejoiced in every smile. YOU know your children. Do not ever let anyone make you feel like you don't." Related If You Have Kids, Please Spend 30 Seconds Reading a Nurse's Lyme Disease Warning Margaret admits that she's "the very definition of a mama bear" and as the parent of a sick child, has spent years fighting for her kids to ensure that they are always given the respect and care that they deserve. I have watched my children have their chest cracked open, their heart stopped and cut into, and rejoiced at the sound of it beating once again. I have watched them spend months in hospitals fighting for their life. I have advocated for better care so strongly that I have even gone before my state senate and literally changed the very laws of medical care for newborns to ensure the very best and most thorough treatment is given to every child in their right to complete and comprehensive medical care. I've spoken to news stations, raised awareness, and made sure everyone knew that medical care for children can and will be improved, because our children deserve it and we parents demand it. I do not stop, I do not sit silent, and I do not accept defeat. Yet, despite her endless advocating, Margaret let someone talk her out of her concerns when her other child developed worrying symptoms - just because he was a doctor and supposedly knew better. "Two nights ago, I allowed someone with a medical degree make me feel, for a few solitary moments, like my gut feelings were wrong and I was overreacting to my child's medical concerns. I allowed this person to make me feel like I was panicking where there was nothing," she wrote. "I allowed them to make me feel like maybe I was reaching because I was so conditioned to see the worst medical scenario with my chronically sick child that when my otherwise healthy child was ill, it was not as serious as I knew deep down it was." Related The Important Parenting Resource You Should Never Ignore Margaret now knows that her concerns were completely warranted. "What I felt before being belittled, ignored, and written off was 100 percent accurate; my child is seriously, seriously ill," she wrote. After three days of unsuccessfully trying to break her little girl's fever, Margaret finally brought Harper to the emergency room with a 105.4-degree temperature. "The doctor there saw her, heard our situation, and after an x-ray of her stomach and a catheter for a UTI check, decided I was a young mom with no clue," she wrote. "The requests I made for more extensive testing - full blood work including CBC, BMP, and spinal - went ignored, and we were discharged with the diagnosis: 'virus, probably, she'll be fine.' He was wrong." Harper's fever continued to rise to 106.3 degrees so Margaret brought her back to the hospital and this time demanded the testing that they were previously denied. "It couldn't wait; Harper desperately needed relief, and we deserved more thorough answers," she wrote. "We found out several hours later that what the first doctor had quickly diagnosed as 'virus, probably' appears to in fact be Kawasaki disease; an illness which causes major inflammation inside the walls of blood vessels and arteries requiring immediate hospitalization, immunoglobulin IV therapies, and aspirin to reduce the likelihood of blood clots within the heart." Margaret explained that her other child has cardiac disease and has had congestive heart failure. Given that history, Harper should have been tested for this disease immediately based on her symptoms alone. "Every day left untreated raises the risk of serious complications including heart failure and lifelong heart tissue damage, thus significantly raising the chances of early adulthood heart attacks and aneurysms," she wrote. They won't know until after more testing whether Harper's heart is permanently damaged but Margaret is positive that if the doctors had taken her seriously the first time, this would've been caught days ago. As they wait for more answers, Margaret is promising her children that she will never will never let her fears be ignored again - and hopes that every other parent makes that same vow: I know my children, and I know when something is seriously wrong. You do too. You are their voice and their advocate; don't let anyone, no matter their degree or their opinion, make you feel like you don't. You know them better and you can tell when something isn't OK. Say so, and if someone won't listen, say it louder until they do. Your child depends upon you to do so. I promise my children and I vow to all my friends; I will never let anyone ever again make me feel like my intuition regarding my children is questionable. I'll be the mama bear I know I am, and I won't ever stop even if I have to piss some people off and demand more from them along the way. My children deserve it, and so do yours. http://bit.ly/2rzr1wS

#Parenting News #Health and Wellness #Little Kids #Motherhood

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