not having the ability to play vidya until my new D drive comes in on Wednesday has me just sitting here thinking about a whole bunch of my headcanons for Leon.
thinking about how his very religious/spiritual mom doesn’t understand why she hasn’t “felt” the presence of her son since his death. like, when her own father died, she claimed that he visited her in dreams every once in a while and, in quiet moments, just could sense that he was still there with her somehow, watching over her. but not once has Leon’s spirit ever deigned to visit or reach out or make himself known. she wonders, “was I truly so horrible of a mother that he’s abandoned me even in death?”
what she doesn’t know is that ghosts aren’t real in the RE universe and what’s actually going on is that her mother’s intuition knows, on some level, that there’s no way that Leon just went to Raccoon City and died. she may not have truly Gotten Him as a person, but she’s still his mom and she still knows him -- and some very deeply hidden and buried part of her knows that he’s still out there, somewhere. but that’s somehow an even more painful thought to have, so she rationalizes it as “his spirit is trapped” or “his spirit won’t visit.”
until one day, some 20 years after his “death,” Leon’s dad is watching the news and there’s a whole thing about a Congressional committee that was formed to get to the bottom of the link between bioterrorism and corruption at the highest levels of the federal government -- and the new Director of the DSO has been subpoenaed and will be forced to testify in front of Congress. to be more specific -- Director Leon S. Kennedy, a long-time veteran in the fight against bioterrorism and one of the most highly-respected figures across federal law enforcement today.
Leon’s mom is in the kitchen cooking dinner, and his dad says loud enough for her to hear, in a very deadpan tone: “huh. you know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that that was your kid, honey. he looks old now, though.”
she just sort of furrows her brow in confusion, puts down what she’s doing, and wanders into the next room to see what the hell her husband is talking about -- because, for all of his terrible sense of humor, this was one thing that he never joked about.
she takes one look at Leon’s photo on the screen and just starts screaming horrible, bloody murder. Leon’s dad just kind of shrugs and turns his attention back to the TV and says nonchalantly and matter-of-factly: “I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get our money back for his tombstone. probably no ‘actually not dead’ clause in the contract. should have read it more closely before signing on the dotted line.”
and that is how his parents learn that their son is, in fact, still alive.
If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)
At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.
Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.
TWO HOURS AGO: an incredible photo taken by a ut austin student capturing something deeply poetic in my opinion, a line of state troopers eagerly waiting to arrest student protesters standing just behind a sign that reads "what starts here changes the world. its starts with you and what you do each day."
The thing I keep coming back to, with all the *gestures expansively* is that real life doesn't have peaceful epilogues.
Every single win has to be defended. Forever. I'm sorry. It sucks. The Nazis lost until they stopped losing. The US had abortion rights, and then 50 years later it didn't. Empires fall, and then they invade other countries again. Oppressive regimes are overthrown and replaced with other oppressive regimes. You will never finish the work etc etc etc. Which is why it's so fucking important to be able to acknowledge and celebrate progress, when it happens. The people who came before you didn't put in all that work for nothing, and you aren't, either. You can't save it all for the Ultimate Victory because there is never going to be an Ultimate Victory. There's no such thing as a time when everything is good, and ours shall not be the commune of Heaven.
Now that the truce has ended, don’t call for a 'permanent ceasefire', call for the end of the occupation. As long as Palestine is occupied, Palestinians will never know peace. Even if the Israeli army left Gaza in this very moment, Palestinians will still face brutal suppression at the hands of the Israeli state. Apartheid laws will still remain. Palestinian children will continue to get kidnapped and tortured in prisons. Armed Israeli settlers will continue to act as shook troops in the Occupied Territories.
The state of Israel must be dismantled and occupation must end for such a permanent ceasefire to happen. Support the end of the occupation.
When my nephew was four, a friend of the family passed away. The man was in his 90s and died of natural causes, and we were going to the funeral. We sat my nephew down and explained who this was, and that he had passed away, and now we were going to a sort of quiet party to celebrate him, and that there he might see the gentleman in the casket, and he might be very still, because he had died, but that everything was alright.
My nephew contemplated this calmly for a few minutes, and then said, "I think he will be very flat."
What.
It turns out that at age four, my nephew's only real context for death was roadkill, which he frequently pointed out while we were driving. He therefore believed that the only way anyone died was getting run over by a car.
platforming palestinian joy is just as important as sharing the suffering they're enduring during this genocide. despite continued displacement and bombardment, you cannot steal their joy and spirit. happy birthday to this sweet baby 🖤🇵🇸 may they grow up to see a free palestine
edit: @saffronlesbian made a video description for this post!!
[vd: a screen recording of a tweet from the 20th of April 2024 with 2.5 million views, from Ruhi @/ruhi_hi. the caption reads, "This video of this little Palestinian angel celebrating his bday in a refugee camp" followed by three emoji of a smiling face with teary eyes. the video clip is 11 seconds long and shows a one-year-old baby seated on the sandy ground, smiling hugely and clapping his hands while people sing to him from offscreen and a large cake is placed in front of him. stuck into the top of the cake is a decoration that reads "happy birthday" in english. the video has the tiktok handle @/ibrahim.jamal99 visible in it. /end vd.]