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#been through the horror stories some of my friends and fellow fan creators have to share

weaselbeaselpants · 3 years

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Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism; the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day, but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with. Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa. It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton. Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #critical fandom #I'm sorry to all the people I messaged n bothered over the past year bout my stupid thoughts #tw: stalker

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proxylynn · 4 years

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Lynchtale: File Name Game of Death #6

Chapter 6: Like any realm, there are many layers of unknowns.

WARNING: THIS IS A MATURE STORY THAT WILL HAVE BLOOD, GORE, PSYCHOLOGICAL SURVIVAL HORROR, HEAVY CURSING, AND LIKELY SEXUAL THEMES/BONING. I DO NOT OWN UNDERTALE, THAT BELONGS TO LORD TOBY FOX. I DO NOT OWN DEAD BY DAYLIGHT, THAT BELONGS TO BEHAVIOUR DIGITAL INC.. I DON'T OWN THE AU'S THAT SOME OF THE CHARACTERS COME FROM, THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE CREATORS. I NOW OWN THE IDEA FOR LYNCHTALE, WHICH USED TO BELONG TO PUNNYSIDEUP (AKA. SANSFULPUNS). I ALSO OWN MY SELF-INSERT OC ANOMALY LYNSIE AND A LOVE OF FAN PARODY. IF YOU'RE STILL READING THIS, THEN CONGRATULATIONS ON EITHER BEING ONE WITH STRONG DETERMINATION OR AN ENDLESS WILL TO OVERCOME THE CHALLENGE OF STOMACHING WHAT I HAVE IN MIND. EITHER WAY, IF YOU LIKE THIS AND/OR MY OTHER CONTENT. SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. HAVE FUN SINNERS. ^_^

[SOMEWHERE IN THE ENTITY...THE ARCHIVES OF THE OBSERVER]

(Arcus 01)

I would start at the beginning, but I don't know when that was or how long ago I was banished to this prison. What I know is I've been observing and studying the inner workings of this Entity that had once been...well...an obsession. How ironic that I should be sentenced to live out the rest of my days in the very thing I sought to destroy. An obsession turned prison...as all obsessions are, I suppose.

(Arcus 54)

The atmosphere of the realms is dark and grim to say the least but also...ever changing. I've already remarked that the atmosphere is misty even foggy at times and that this fog feels alive. It seems to contain swirls and streams of memories or imprints of beings from multiple terra worlds. It is as if The Entity absorbs all the psychic energy and thoughts of beings it snatches as it journeys through the endless cosmos.

I've used the Auris to study the black fog and have come to three observations that will prove invaluable to finding a way home. First, the fog is rich in Auric particles leading me to believe this dimension is more conscious than it is material. Second, I should be able to manifest anything I am able to pull from rifts in the fog using techniques passed down from my family. Third…The Entity is far more ancient than we ever suspected back home and most of our theories and conjectures were wrong. The rich presence of Auric particles and cells suggests it is one of the Original Ones—an Ancient.

(Arcus 129)

A knock at the door and an invitation attached to a bottle of whiskey waiting for me at the foot of the door. I kneeled to inspect the invitation. "You are cordially invited to The Entity's Birthday". The Entity has a birthday? Am I losing my mind...my grip on reality...whatever that actually means here...Is this some kind of a prank by a marooned soul?

(Arcus 142)

The Entity is the cosmic embodiment of evil. Back home we witnessed how its very presence turns worlds inside out...how it seems to remove or extinguish any sense of empathy or compassion within communities...how it brings people to the brink of madness and...well...pushes them in. Now I understand it does all this in order to rip victims from their lives and have them play out an endless trial of terror that it presumably needs for its own survival. And there, perhaps, lies the key to its destruction...if an Ancient can be destroyed at all.

End the trials. Destroy its ability to sap dark nectar from victims like a cruel parasite feeding from a flower. At least the Archives affords me a better understanding of the Entity...why it moves from universe to universe, picking victims off and devouring worlds as though at a cosmic buffet. What I have yet to conclude is whether it is attracted to worlds that are brimming with darkness and madness or if it is in fact the catalyst of such darkness and madness.

(Arcus 182)

I have discovered structures within the realms of The Entity that remind me of home. It is possible others from Terra Primus have found themselves marooned within The Entity. These Survivors could have with them knowledge to free me from this tower and possibly ideas on how to escape this infernal dimension. As far as I know...we were one of the first of the many worlds to begin unraveling these great cosmic mysteries and proving that planets and solar systems were...well...alive. These discoveries led to entire paradigm shifts that unlocked for us our ability to travel from dimension to dimension. Where once we thought our knowledge was absolute...these discoveries showed us how little we actually knew about the world.

(Arcus 223)

I felt an uncanny and unseen presence in The Archives as I contemplated The Entity. I could hear the labored breathing of Killers standing outside my prison. I looked out into the dark, raging Fog and saw nothing...Either The Entity is aware of my presence and is preparing to send Killers to put an end to my plans...or the memories of Survivors are somehow merging with my personal memories and these sounds are mere side effects of overusing the Auris. In the end, it doesn't matter. If I could end The Entity I would even if it meant my own demise. My life is little to pay for the salvation of the worlds it will destroy.

(Arcus 293)

Things could have been worse. I could have been banished in a dimension without Auric Fog containing the memory imprints of countless victims, memories that keep me entertained and busy with my coin and spirit collections...and the music...the variations from parallel worlds...it helps pass the time. In a twisted way I think what I'm admitting is that I'm glad The Entity takes what it wants when it wants from the omniverse.

(Arcus 328)

There is a curiosity at the core of every thinking person. A need for knowledge from uncharted and unknowable territories, but what is discovered in those blank spaces of the abyss...of the cosmos are things far too immense to understand. Things better left unobserved lest they undermine our sanity. Better to embrace ignorance than face the truth of our insignificance in the grand scheme of it all. Against the vastness of the infinite we are mere microbes swirling in an endless, indifferent cosmic stew. I say stew...but The Entity is probably more of a blood pudding.

(Arcus 345)

I have recently wondered if Survivors realize the titanic significance of their thoughts and feelings, and of how The Entity uses them to furnish the trials. Thoughts and feelings that bring me glimpses of what it's like to have lived on a parallel world as someone else. It helps pass the time.

(Arcus 437)

I'm going to have a couple shots of whiskey from Terra 917, experience a few Memories, then head to bed. The warmth of spirits from 917 have always had a way of lulling me away. While it is true this is a cruel fate...an even crueler fate would have been to have been imprisoned here without the Auris...without the ability to manifest and create and enjoy. It feels strange as this may seem as the nexus of creation...able to travel Memories and cull from those Memories without restraint. Helps pass the time. Definitely helps pass the time.

(Arcus 557)

All planes of existence are a unique mix of conscious Auric particles and material particles. The Entity is almost certainly pure consciousness...The observable fact of existence is the material world responds to and changes with consciousness...collective consciousness is the key...The body, the home, the trial—all of it is an expression of The Entity's unconscious need for fear and terror.

The distinct observation in the specimens chosen by The Entity is that they all come from worlds that have failed to understand the metaphysical relationship between their thoughts and the world they live in. This is not by chance. It is, to my mind, self-preservation. Victims who know this truth and have honed their ability to manifest could be poisonous to The Entity. This leads me to believe The Entity is attracted to dark worlds because darkness and chaos are clear indicators that inhabitants have failed to connect the dots between the collective consciousness and the health of their world. The conclusion, then, might be that The Entity feeds off ignorance.

(Arcus 571)

Gut-wrenching shrieks echoing through the Fog disturbed my sleep. I woke up, put on some slacks, clambered to the roof with some whiskey, and hit golf balls into the abyss. There's something about hitting iron and wood into oblivion that's calming, even therapeutic. I must have hit a thousand golf balls before the yelling and screaming finally subsided and I called it a night.

(Arcus 572)

Someone left a bucket of golf balls at my door with a note: Best Balls Ever! Upon further inspection I realized they were hardened eyeballs. Fossilized eyeballs collected no doubt throughout the lost Realms. I didn't realize eyeballs could be fossilized or that they make, dare I say, decent golf balls. I actually wouldn't mind another bucket. This must be a gift from my mysterious friend.

(Arcus 632)

Through a rift I believe I culled another memory of Vigo manifesting reality within The Entity with something reminiscent of the Auris. How he came to understand the machinations of The Fog is both puzzling and inspiring. It suggests to me that perhaps this place enhances one's connections to our infinite selves throughout the omniverse.

(Arcus 723)

I pity Dwight. It's as though every action he takes brings the opposite of what he intends. Trying to help his fellow employees from an abuser he ends up shutting down the entire operation, leaving many in a far worse situation than they ever were in. Granted, spiking a narcissist's drink and watching him unravel was worth the price of admission. The many memories of Survivors struggling with narcissists have led me to the conclusion that there are only three possibilities when relating to a narcissist. Enable them. Run away from them. Or...destroy them. But beware, narcissists take everyone with them when they go down.

(Arcus 731)

Hard to tell when one day ends and another begins. The tower and the library help me cope, but it's hard to forget the truth of my situation even for a moment knowing everything I have is a lie. I have access to anything I want and yet I have nothing. The survivors continue to undergo the trials with the most brutal of killers. I continue to search the fog for the memories of those who found a way to escape. It sometimes feels like a futile search. But then again...I've got time on my hands...lots of time...

(Arcus 767)

The Auris was little understood back home, and to be fair I wasn't given the chance to explain its merits to the council. Had they taken the time to understand they would have realized that though I had no verifiable explanation for how the Auris works...I had theories, and the most reasonable was that the Auris works on the basis of the Trinitarian — the Trinitarian of Creation — a concept long held by our ancestors and forgotten throughout the ages. But the concept isn't complicated, isn't witchcraft, isn't a secret. It simply suggests that it takes two things to create a third. A father and a mother to create a child. An idea and passion to create something new, something real, something lasting and meaningful. A thought and feeling. Therein lies the best theory of the Auris and how it is able to create with Auric particles.

The failing of other pioneers back home is they believed thought alone was enough when in reality it is only half the equation...the other half is emotion, for it is feeling and passion that fuels the fires of creation. The Auris amplifies and manifests and forges something new using the mold of thought and the fires of passion. Or...I've been here too long and I'm grasping at theories to pass the time.

(Arcus 789)

Emotion. Passion. Interest. They are the spark, the undefinable force that enables creation. You cannot manifest anything if you are not filled with emotion about it. The Auris was ridiculed because the council lacked understanding. This might be the whiskey ruminating but...art is not created by thought alone but by thought and feeling working in harmony. Feeling is everything...Feeling is the most important aspect of bringing anything to life. It is the fuel that makes thought and intention reality.

(Arcus 893)

Several Survivors went mad trying to escape the trial. They had with them memories of previous incarnations so that one Survivor began dashing his head against a wall convinced he was reliving a nightmare he had just escaped. The other Survivors drowned him in mud to shut him up. It seems to me Survivors are torches growing dimmer and dimmer with every trial. Some stop to feel altogether and are doomed to The Void. Others go raving mad and need to be silenced by others.

(Arcus 968)

Strange, luminous markings left in the Trials for Survivors and Killers that help me navigate and study Rifts with greater ease. Someone is trying to reach out to me. Tampering with The Entity. Using tricks to secure my attention. To let me know I'm not alone. To let me know I'm not the only one able to manifest within The Entity. Yet the knowledge of living dimensions and Ancients is knowledge few have developed among the infinite Terra worlds within the known galaxies.

(Arcus 1032)

Jumbled experiences of brutal Killers and weird rituals of godless brutes from worlds too dark to care. I jerked myself straight out of one memory that pulled me into a cavern of bodies with an odor so repugnant I was retching for hours. I still have that horrible taste in my mouth and shudder at the thought of that smell, that horrible smell, rotting humanity. What foul creature of a man had made this festering hole his lair is beyond me.

(Arcus 1043)

I look and observe the realms of The Entity with eyes that see disharmony, chaos, fear, and terror... and yet I acknowledge I may be swayed by appearances and that there may be another truth beyond the veil and it feels futile if not absurd to try to put to words what I am seeing.

(Arcus 1118)

There's nothing like silence to drive you mad. I stared out into the endless ocean of Black Fog surrounding me and quickly realized how incredibly small and insignificant we are. Dread and despair soon overtook me and I began to realize how arrogant we were back home to try to define and describe these living cosmic entities. We thought we had figured most out. We barely scratched the surface.

(Arcus 1256)

Discovered new memories of Trapper which shed some light on his descent. The question I am asking myself is: Did The Entity begin to corrupt him before he was snatched for the Trials or was all that anger and bloodlust a result of his harsh upbringing? Either way I would not expect him to comply with another authority figure even if that figure was an Old One.

(Arcus 1513)

I have used the Auris to explore the memories of an unknown survivor who comes from a world where, from what I can gather, a cult for The Entity exists. It's not a surprise or the first time I've seen such a thing, but the memories suggest she was a detective of sorts trying to prevent a cult sacrifice before she was snatched for the trials. I'm not sure what happened to her and will have to explore the fog to unravel more.

(Arcus 1672)

I have culled imprints of a killer I have yet to observe. My best guess, judging by the nature of the crimes, is this brute is from Terra Dark. She lured men with love, robbed them of their savings, and fed them to her pigs. Lovely. Efficient. And resourceful. The impressions of the memory are as follows...

...He stands framed in the doorway with flowers. A stupid smile on his dumb face. He has no sense that his days are numbered. Lonely soul made the trip for a wife. He thinks he'll get everything for a ring. Her land. Her farm. Her savings. Won't happen. Won't go as planned. Not as he planned, anyway. It didn't for all the other lonely souls who answered her classified ad. She peers at his eyes and thrills at his ignorance. His long, dumb face. His false sense of superiority. He wrote her a poem. How sweet. She'll cram it down his throat when he's convulsing on the floor. She takes his poem and asks about his money. He has it with him. Packed his savings in a bag and made the journey for a new start. He'll get more than he bargained for. Way more. To the bank with his money. To the pigs with him.

(Arcus 2903)

I rose early to experience a few deaths in The Archives I recently captured from The Rift. I had some milk from Terra 728. I listened to a radio show from Terra 232. Horror stories and tales of terror. I read a new version of Dante's Inferno from... I'm not sure where...I thought of home, had some whiskey, and slept for what felt like an eternity.

(Arcus 3212)

From a window I see something moving with an uncanny light. Through the black fog it shines there, beckoning me. And yet, I cannot leave. I cannot move. I can only bring things to me through the Auris. What light is this? Is it a creature sent by The Entity? Is it a survivor? Or perhaps it's a marooned soul from back home searching like myself for a way back. An unnatural wind whines and I stare at the moving, hypnotic light, a hideous watching eye, trying to reach out to me, trying to tell me something, trying to convey something in its strange, rhythmic movement.

(Arcus 4902)

Life is not life in this prison, and death is not an escape. It is merely the start of a new trial and most survivors are aware they are caught in something they will never understand. Why this is all happening is no longer obvious to me. The truth is...I don't know what to believe anymore...The Entity is...not what it is...or what I thought it was...

(Arcus 7294)

I woke up soaked in blood with no recollection of what transpired the night before. The blood dripped off my nose and chin. I felt my forehead and scalp to discover a deep, stinging gash. Accident? Self-inflicted? Nightmares of The Fog? Creatures of the abyss? I didn't know. Later by the bed I discovered a purple mound of flesh and gore. I cleaned the slop and tossed it out the window into the abyss from which it had come.

(Arcus 7456)

I am taking notes under incredible mental strain. I have had flashes of Survivor memories overrun my senses all day, and I am trying to focus on home and gather myself. I haven't used the Auris for some time and yet I have been pulled in and out of these lives randomly. These records... these archives will, I imagine, help me remember myself, should the Auris nudge me into the abyss.

(Arcus 7547)

Whiskey deep into the night. A strange aftertaste...a flavor from a world which makes the best whiskey. Whiskey dreams are some of the most pleasurable. Dreams of home, with friends and family, enjoying time lost. When my senses returned, I realized I had turned my palace of a prison upside down. I remembered none of it. Everything, a drunken blur. So many paintings and statues I had created from memories from other worlds...shattered...I'm losing my grip on reality and maybe that's a good thing. One day merges into the next and I'm lost in a storm of whiskey, screams, and endless streams of broken memories.

(Arcus 8876)

It's always entertaining to watch a Survivor try to escape with a femoral artery lacerated. Some victims actually get quite far before shock and cardiac arrest overwhelm them. They fight and struggle for life as if death were final. Perhaps this is the reason The Entity wipes the slate clean with every resurrection. The unwavering belief that death is real gives weight and gravitas to the trial... to the experience. Otherwise Survivors won't care. Wouldn't run. Wouldn't feel. The fear of death is the pulse of life and believing death is real gives emotion to the experience. It, in other words, feeds The Entity.

(Arcus 9082)

Hillbilly has quite an arm. A farmer made his way out of a barn and with one well-aimed blow with a spade, his head was severed from his shoulders, and two spouts of hot blood burst from his body like geysers. Hillbilly watched the headless man stagger stupidly and collapse in a growing puddle of steaming blood. I have to admit I've gone through this memory more than once. It's one of my favorites. I find Hillbilly disturbingly amusing and the illusion of death fascinating...at a distance.

(Arcus 9873)

King has this way of doing things that are quite amusing. One of my favorite memories I return to time and time again whenever I need a lift is Memory 2332 - Gasoline Man: King grabs this man who skipped a few payments on a loan. He drags him by the hair and throws him in an alley. He grabs a metal gasoline container and douses the 'sod' with its contents and lights a match. He stares at him through the flickering flame as the man screams in terror. He watches him beg for his life. Then he flings the match. The man's eyes pop out of his head as the flame hits his chest and falls to the floor with a sizzle. King tells him to make his payment or next time he'll use real gasoline. Brilliant.

(Arcus ??????)

A new tome of memories has appeared in my library. This one full of blurred pages and faded images. It will take quite some work to clear the fog for these to make some semblance sense. The newer parts that are clear tell of a Survivor I hadn't seen before. Such a strange woman. The Entity is rather active with her unlike the others. Even going so far as to taint her into being a monster. I pity this woman. It is one thing to have always been a monster...it's entirely different being forced to be one. Still...I will admit to being intrigued by her situation. For this is the first time there is a soul stuck between the two sides. I should get started soon. I want to see how she ended up like this. I want to know how she handles it. How she manages to deal with the monsters...and with the Entity itself. I just pray that I can keep myself sane long enough to find these things out.

[ELSEWHERE IN THE FOG]

We've been walking for some time now.

After a less than jolly wake up I've been restrained by Chops' weapon's chain, my arms locked behind me with the safe end while the other stabby end is in his hand, and he's been dragging me into the fog ever since. Before, however, Legion reminded my dumbass what we were doing...going to visit the Doctor to check out my weird soul. Seeing that guy once, even while not in a trial, was enough to make me less than willing to go to him or his realm, hence the chaining. Chops having to be in control of the body to keep me on this makeshift leash means the others aren't around. The shades of the Bones, Boo, and Dead Eye lagged behind us the further away we went from the chalet until they faded altogether once we pasted the border of the realm.

Now we wonder about the fog. A killer leading a reluctant dog to a kennel of death. Needless to say, I don't make things easy for him.

"quit draggin' your feet!"

A hard yank has me trying to resist spinning to the ground like a drunken jackass.

"Or what? You'll kill me? Big freaking deal."

Being a smartass earns me some comeuppance in a speedy punch to the gut.

"disrespect me and i'll give ya one hell of a bad time. got that, meat?"

I want to vomit but there's nothing in me to puke up.

"now, come on..."

He starts walking and a small tug has me following on instinct.

"we're almost there."

"*coughs* Are guys even sure he'll be helpful? He could just take me and dick you over."

He growls.

"ya think we can't handle that quack?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just saying we shouldn't just show all the cards we're holding right away."

"it's not like we got much choice. ya don't wanna go to the void, do ya?"

I shiver.

"yeah, didn't think so."

"Still...I don't trust this."

"good..."

I look at him funny.

"keep on your toes. especially around the quack."

There's that odd tone like how Bones had when he mentioned the Doctor. I got a feeling they had a bad experience with him before. Our ceaseless wondering continues. My mind begins to make shapes in the swirls of fog, heh, reminds me of my youth seeing things in the smoke at church...Wow, I'm fucked up. Either way, imaging things keeps my brain steady. Helps me forget the reality I'm in for a while. It's been my coping mechanism for god knows how long. And once I'm in it for long it gets pretty hard to be drawn out. Though...I'm not far gone enough to not notice this faint sound. It's soft. Almost...Almost like humming? Looking around shows nothing. Nothing except me...and him. Can it be...?

Being a curious yet cautious punk, I move in close behind him and...music? A dark and depressing mix of power ballads and gloomy melodies.

"The hell...?"

With my hands not a usable option, I bite the end of his hoody's hood and pull it back. The exposure of his skull angrily surprises him yet not as much as I am to see earbuds in the acoustic meatus of his head. When did he do this? Was I that distracted?

"the fuck ya doin'?!"

"Dude, you have tunes?"

He takes one out to better hear me.

"what?"

"How long have you been holding out on me? Do you know how boring this silence is?"

He chuckles while putting the bud back in.

"why else ya think i've got this on?"

He attempts putting his hood back on but I annoyingly hit his shoulder with my head.

"bitch!"

"Share!"

"fuck you!"

"I'll leave you alone if you do."

He glares.

"or i can kick the shit out of ya and not."

I scoot in front of him.

"Dude, come on...Do you really think it'll be that easy?"

His glare intensifies. I give a hopeful smirk with a small shrug. His response is to yank the chain and grab my face while my body went on "keep steady in one place" mode like a moron. His distal phalanx tips dig into my cheeks like the claws of a pissed-off cat.

"*harsh* i ain't like bones. i ain't gonna treat ya with kid gloves. piss me off, i'll beat ya to an inch of your pathetic life. the only thing stoppin' me is how much i don't want to drag your half-dead ass to léry's."

Léry's Memorial Institute...another realm the Entity told me of.

A research facility should be a place where minds grow, where learning happens. But the Léry Memorial Institute is quite the opposite. It's a place where the human brain is turned into something unpleasant and broken. Nestled in a sleepy woods three miles south of Michaelstown, Illinois, the Léry Memorial Institute started its life out as a hospital specializing in the rehabilitation of GI's returning from the Korean War. The mansion built in the late 1800s and its massive lot were donated by the previous owner to be transformed into a medical facility. As an army hospital, it always fell under different laws and rules to other hospitals and in 1967, it effectively became a front for the CIA. Under the Stewardship of Otto Stamper, the old army patients were shipped out and a huge fence erected around the property. Around this time, the public was refused access to the patients and the whole place was shrouded in secrecy. By 1970, the Institute was fully transformed into a CIA black site with special requirements to develop cutting-edge interrogation techniques and they employed a wide range of different doctors and specialists to help them. The Institute thrived through the 70's growing to a staff of hundreds, filling the main hospital, and several out-buildings. Documents and evidence about the Institute are scarce as the government condemned the entire building in 1983, even razing most of the building to the ground in what seemed to be planned explosive demolition. Even now, the events that lead to the closing of the Institute and what happened to the staff and patients is shrouded in controversy and mystery. Snippets of information in heavily redacted documents tell the story of some kind of incident or event, but even the most tenacious reporters have failed to unearth any real evidence of conspiracy or wrongdoing. You can still see what remains of the shell of the main hospital facility, standing defiant against the ruins that surround it on what is still US Military land.

"now take this as your only warning. i ain't playin' games."

He sinks the digits in more, adding pain into the threat to drive the message home. The effect he wants from me is submission. My real reaction...A blank expression of indifference. Why give in to him? Fear? So what. Fear means nothing when death is nothing. Sure there's pain but whatever to that.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're kinda cute when being tough?"

Honestly, this was better than what my brain wanted to say. He, however, didn't take this as a compliment and promptly uses that weapon to cram it deep into my side at an angle to scrap down my hip. Needless to say this gets a better response for him to take and my roar of pain gets muffled by his tightening grip.

"don't fuck with me, bitch! unless...ya don't want me to let ya heal? ya do want to be able to do that...don't ya?"

The feel of steel on bone makes it hard not to whimper while nodding.

"then you're gonna behave...right?"

He twists the blade. Seriously, is that signature Legion move? My wincing is high and nodding fast.

"prove it."

This confuses me.

"let's play a game..."

He yanks the blade out. If it wasn't for his hold I would've jerked to the ground.

"if you can do one little thing...i'll let ya be free."

His smug slyness is too obnoxious to miss while he lets my face go. Giving me creepy feelings.

"And what might that be, sir nice guy all of a sudden?"

He stares off, either thinking or listening to the others in his head.

"first a set of rules...ya can only obey instructions and ya must do everything i say. ya can't do anything unless i give ya the okay. ya can't speak unless spoken to. and ya gotta keep eye contact unless i say."

Creep levels are growing.

"do ya have the balls to agree?"

I sigh. I'm slowly bleeding out, what choice do I have?

"Sure. If it makes things easier."

His sharp-toothed smirk is sending chills of regret through me.

"good...on your knees."

I can't help the "I fucking called it" face and groan.

"Dude...Really?"

He backhands me fairly hard.

"i said, on your knees!"

I spit some blood out and hate my life more than I already do as I slowly do as commanded.

"smart girl."

He puts the bloody blade in my face which is conveniently at hip level for him.

"ya made me dirty my blade. be a good kitten and clean it for me...slowly."

I grimace at the obvious pseudo-sex act he wants me to do. The only upside is I don't mind the taste of my own blood. So, with much resentment for everything, I slowly lick the weapon. Being mindful of the very sharp slightly nicked blade.

"slower. really give it a fine shine."

I huff through my nose while really dragging my tongue along the metal. It helps to think of it as a weird popsicle. At least this can't last much longer...I hope.

"not bad, kitten. looks very nice. but..."

He kneels, taking a harsh grip of my hair and taps the tip of the blade on my lips.

"i think it needs a final deep wash. open your mouth."

This can go horrible real fast, yet I hesitantly open up. The look he gives, lidded sockets and licking his teeth with a red gel-like tongue...The fuck? I have so many questions! Either way, my creepy meter is maxed out and broken.

"don't move. we wouldn't want to make it dirty again."

He seems to like this control as evident by the meticulous way he inserts the murder weapon and tests just how far he can get it to go before something happens then pulling it out methodically slow, only to repeat it all over again. Feeling all sorts of uncomfortable my ability to look at him reaches its limits. This turns his building desire into a rage and his pulling of my hair borders on scalp ripping.

"look at me!"

The snap makes me jump, nearly stabbing the back of my throat but I do as told. Like the bitch I am.

"don't ya fuckin' look away from me. got that?"

I nod very very very carefully. Seeing I've lost my dignity, which is understandable with this shit going on, his domination lust kicks back in to do some overly prolonged and humiliating oral knife play with awkward staring. The longer this goes on the more carnal he looks. His breathing, how the fuck a skeleton breathes I know not, is getting labored and a tinge shaky. The grip of my hair lessens to light kneading. And the sounds that leave him...It's so dirty. I want this to stop. I feel like just ending this by slamming myself on the damn thing! Until, thankfully, he finally gets his jollies and removes the weapon with a long drag across my tongue...only to then lick it himself much to my disgust.

All this over wanting to listen to his music?!

"mmmm...that was fun, kitten. good job."

Glad you're happy while I'm kneeling in the growing pool of my life juice...jackass.

"Mew."

His pleasure flips quickly to normal edgy jerk.

"ya had to ruin it."

"Sorry."

Why the fuck did I apologize?!

My automatic apology impulse does seem to do some good by not making him forget the reward for playing his game. A small bit of fiddling around my back ends with the chain going slack and my hands becoming free.

"i was gonna make ya sweat for a bit, but then ya would've probably bled out and ya know my feelin's about dealin' with ya like that."

Once more, a member of the Legion has upheld to their word to me instead of pulling that "I lied" bullshit most schmucks would do. And once more, this has an effect on me and how I look at Legion.

"Thank you."

I begin to rub the wound and seal the damage while he sets his weapon back into its normal state.

"don't thank me. just hurry up."

Even if that was a dick thing to say, it was a nice dick thing to say. I will remember that.

With my wound healed and blood no longer draining into the fog, I stand yet feel off. Probably the emotional scarring of him humiliating me. But there's no time for that. So I bottle it up like all my other negative shit. I'm sure it won't be affecting me in any way now. Most likely I'll cry about it later but for we have a mission to complete.

As if nothing has happened we walk once more, side by side. And again he listens to whatever music he has. He ignores me for the most part which makes listening to the faint tunes a bit easier. Suddenly...I recognize the song that kicks in...Nirvana: Heart-Shaped Box. Must resist...Would he even...Fuck it! Not like it matter.

"♪She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak. I've been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks. I've been drawn into your magnet tar pit trap. I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice...your advice...♫"

I pause when I notice the beat is gone. I look out the corner of my eye and don't see him. Turning my head shows he stopped a bit back and is looking at me oddly.

"Uh..."

"ya know this song?"

I rub the back of my head.

"Only when the song plays. I'm not good at recalling lyrics alone."

He's slow to approach and I'm unsure when he messes with something in his pocket. But then I hear the song again.

"♪Meat-eating orchids forgive no one just yet. Cut myself on angel hair and baby's breath. Broken hymen of your Highness, I'm left back. Throw down your umbilical noose so I can climb right back. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice...your advice...♫"

As the music jams solo he smirks and returns to trekking the fog, grateful I'm not butchering the song. Not to be left alone I follow and keep enjoying the music.

I don't think he minds indulging my karaoke, not while the real thing blares in his skull and I maintain similar pitch to make it hard to distinguish. He probably likes that I'm not being such a pain in the ass while distracted like this. And distracted I am as we continue. The only thing that breaks me from my song and shameful weak dance is the random feel of something tapping my skin. The feel of cold accompanies the tingles. Slowly this oddity becomes clear...snow.

A large gate, the ones that humans must escape in, comes into view as the snow blows into the fog. This is the entrance leading to the building that is Léry's Memorial Institute. The cold is fitting here. Like an unseen bait. The cold lures you towards the false shelter where no good can be found.

The old building we find has it's doors open, inviting the foolish inside. A scientific center of some sort, full of discarded equipment. Some I recognized, other items are new to me. It does have that been abandoned feel to it, the kind that tricks you into letting your guard down. I don't question how the Entity manages to bring places like this here, there's no point to that kind of thought anymore. I have to put my curiosity on hold for now. There is danger in this place and I can't afford to be enchanted now. Inside are small areas like waiting rooms and resection desks, but also traces of something dark. As we tread the halls, beds that probably did not hold free people are scattered about. Corridors lack the warmth that comes from normal care facilities. I feel most uneased. Its maze-like features might trap me for good if Chops wasn't guiding me. What kind of shit went down here? Do I even want to know the reason why there are jail-like bars housing the area we're headed? Probably not.

This place hums with power. Electricity is everywhere and dirty tools are found laying around. This facility screams of a place where all methods are acceptable, go or bad. Whether the "subject" is alive after the procedure is not important. If these walls could talk all you would hear are screams and tearful waling. A passing glance of one room shines the smallest semblance of peace, some sort of library or study houses normal furniture along with numerous amounts of books. Nothing else remembers all those who lost their minds and their lives in there better than archives. Nothing...except the one who is called Doctor.

Pass the bars of no return leads to a noisy circled area. A medical viewing theater with massive electricity generators, holding chairs, tool cabinets, multiple large monitors playing random static images hang from the center, and viewing stations above. Every nerve I have is on alert. Get the fuck out of here, is what my brain tells me, but my body refuses to obey. Chops can feel my nervous deer energy and clutches my arm, it helps ground me better than trusting my legs to not book it.

"🕈☜☹☹ 🕈☜☹☹ 🕈☜☹☹📬📬📬" (WELL WELL WELL...)

I had forgotten the Doctors voice, it tends to happen with only one meeting, even if it's rumbling with dark authority. But his intimidating presence is something I'll never forget as he effortlessly strides into here. The fusion of sparking wires integrated into his bones, the painful contortion of his face to the point his skull is cracking, even his professional attire looks like he wants to bring pain not healing. He's creepy as creepy can be.

"✌☞❄☜☼ ❄☟☜ ❄☟☜✌❄✋👍💧 ✡⚐🕆 🏱🕆☹☹☜👎📪 ✋🕯💣 💧🕆☼🏱☼✋💧☜👎 ✡⚐🕆 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ☺🕆💧❄ 🕈✌☹😐 ✋☠❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ ⚐☞ 💣✡ ☼☜✌☹💣📬 ✌☠👎 🕈✋❄☟ ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠ ☠⚐ ☹☜💧💧✍ ☜✞☜☼ ❄☟☜ ✋☠❄☼✋☝🕆✋☠☝ ⚐☠☜ ✡⚐🕆 👌⚐✡💧 ✌☼☜📬" (AFTER THE THEATICS YOU PULLED, I'M SURPRISED YOU WOULD JUST WALK INTO THE HEART OF MY REALM. AND WITH THE HUMAN NO LESS? EVER THE INTRIGUING ONE YOU BOYS ARE.)

Chops' grip on my arm tightens and for good reason. Be it a gift, or a curse...The Entity has ignited a corrupted and inexhaustible spark in The Doctor’s heart which allows him to generate electro-convulsive power at will. His insidious treatment corrupts the minds of those it touches. Victims shocked by the corrupt spark begin to lose their grip on reality and, with repeated exposure, inevitably succumb to madness. I have difficulty keeping my sanity as it is. This is a monster that toys with it for fun.

"we ain't here for your high and mighty bull, ya quack. so knock off the schtick."

Chops' take no shit attitude makes the Doctor sneer.

"❄✡🏱✋👍✌☹ ⚐☞ ✌ ✡⚐🕆❄☟ ❄☟✋☠😐✋☠☝ ❄☟☜✡ 👍✌☠ ☺🕆💧❄ 👎☜💣✌☠👎 ❄☟✋☠☝💧 ✌☠👎 ☝☜❄ ✋❄ 👌☜👍✌🕆💧☜ ✋❄ ☞✋❄💧 ❄☟☜✋☼ ☠☜☜👎💧📬 ✡⚐🕆 👍⚐💣☜ ✋☠❄⚐ 💣✡ ☟⚐💣☜📪 🕆☠✋☠✞✋❄☜👎📪 ✌☠👎 👌☜☹✋☜✞☜ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ☜☠❄✋❄☹☜👎📬📬📬🕈☟✡✍ 🏱☹☜✌💧☜📪 ☜☠☹✋☝☟❄☜☠ 💣☜📪 ✡⚐🕆 👍⚐👍😐✡ ☹✋❄❄☹☜ 💧☟✋❄📬" (TYPICAL OF A YOUTH THINKING THEY CAN JUST DEMAND THINGS AND GET IT BECAUSE IT FITS THEIR NEEDS. YOU COME INTO MY HOME, UNINVITED, AND BELIEVE YOU ARE ENTITLED...WHY? PLEASE, ENLIGHTEN ME, YOU COCKY LITTLE SHIT.)

Wow, this is awkwardly giving me TV high school drama flashbacks.

"this..."

I'm pulled more into view.

"ya said ya wanted to understand what makes her tick? well now's as good a time as any."

A look comes to the Doctor's eyes. A gleam I don't like.

"👎⚐ 🕆☠👎☜☼💧❄✌☠👎 ✋☞ ✋ 👎⚐🕆👌❄ ✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ ⚐☞☞☜☼✋☠☝ 💣☜ ❄☟✋💧 ⚐🏱🏱⚐☼❄🕆☠✋❄✡ ☞⚐☼ ☼☜✌💧⚐☠💧 ❄☟✌❄ ✌☼☜☠🕯❄ ❄⚐ 💧✌❄✋💧☞✡ 💣✡ ⚐🕈☠ ☠☜☜👎💧📬" (DO UNDERSTAND IF I DOUBT YOU'RE OFFERING ME THIS OPPORTUNITY FOR REASONS THAT AREN'T TO SATISFY MY OWN NEEDS.)

Why did he have to word it like that?

"it's her soul. it's been touched by the entity. i'm sure a smart guy like you would love to check it out."

This resets the Doctor's mood into a more serious one.

"💧❄☼✌🏱 ☟☜☼ ✋☠📬 ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ☼☜❄🕆☼☠ 💣⚐💣☜☠❄✌☼✋☹✡📬" (STRAP HER IN. I WILL RETURN MOMENTARILY.)

The Doctor leaves us and Chops pulls me to one of the five chairs.

"W-Wait a sec..."

"don't start actin' up now."

He shoves me into the seat and begins restraining my limbs...with oddly no effort from me to stop him.

"we don't need ya bein' a pain. not here."

"I'm not. I just want you to do something for me."

"i ain't doin'..."

"Promise you'll kill me if things get bad."

He pauses.

"don't be so dramatic."

"No, I mean it. I get the idea you know how bad things can get here. Just..."

"i don't make promises, meat."

"Then hold up to our deal! I have your back and you have mine."

He growls.

"I'll owe you for it. Nothing will be off the table. I promise."

"🏱✌❄☟☜❄✋👍📬📬📬" (PATHETIC...)

Fuck.

"☼☜💧⚐☼❄✋☠☝ ❄⚐ 👌☜☝☝✋☠☝ ☞⚐☼ 💣☜☼👍✡ 👌☜☞⚐☼☜ ❄☟☜ ☞🕆☠ ☟✌💧 ☜✞☜☠ 👌☜☝🕆☠✍ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ❄☼🕆☜☹✡ ✌☼☜ 🕈☜✌😐 👍☼☜✌❄🕆☼☜💧📬" (RESORTING TO BEGGING FOR MERCY BEFORE THE FUN HAS EVEN BEGUN? HUMANS TRUELY ARE WEAK CREATURES.)

Chops backs up as the Doctor returns wheeling in a worrisome looking cart, taking his time to set up some sort of equipment.

"👎⚐☠🕯❄ ❄☜☹☹ 💣☜ ✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ ☞⚐⚐☹✋💧☟ ☜☠⚐🕆☝☟ ❄⚐ ☞✌☹☹ ☞⚐☼ 💧🕆👍☟ 🕈⚐☼👎💧📪 ☹☜☝✋⚐☠✍" (DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE FOOLISH ENOUGH TO FALL FOR SUCH WORDS, LEGION?)

Chops scoffs, dismissing and distancing himself from this.

"☟🕆💣✌☠📬📬📬" (HUMAN...)

And it begins.

"👌☼✋☠☝ ⚐🕆❄ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧⚐🕆☹📬 ✋ 💣🕆💧❄ ☜✠✌💣✋☠☜ ❄☟☜ ☜✠❄☜☠❄ ⚐☞ 👍⚐☼☼🕆🏱❄✋⚐☠📬" (BRING OUT YOUR SOUL. I MUST EXAMINE THE EXTENT OF CORRUPTION.)

"I..."

"she don't know how."

Okay, it looks like I don't get to speak for myself.

"✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ ☺⚐😐✋☠☝✍" (YOU'RE JOKING?)

Doctor looks at me and I shrug, making him rub his face with a long sigh.

"☹☜❄ 💣☜ ☝🕆☜💧💧📬📬📬☠⚐ ⚐☠☜ ☟✌💧 ☜✠🏱☹✌✋☠☜👎 ☟⚐🕈 ❄⚐ 👎⚐ 💧⚐📪 👍⚐☼☼☜👍❄✍" (LET ME GUESS...NO ONE HAS EXPLAINED HOW TO DO SO, CORRECT?)

I nod.

"pretty much it comes out when she is or believes to be near death."

He approaches and presses a single static charged bony digit to my chest.

"☞⚐👍🕆💧 ⚐☠ ❄☟✋💧 🏱⚐✋☠❄📬 ✋💣✌☝✋☠ ❄☟☜ 💧⚐🕆☹📬 🏱✋👍❄🕆☼☜ ✋❄ ☹☜✌✞✋☠☝ ⚐🕆❄ ☞☼⚐💣 ❄☟✋💧 🏱⚐✋☠❄📬" (FOCUS ON THIS POINT. IMAGIN THE SOUL. PICTURE IT LEAVING OUT FROM THIS POINT.)

I feel like a child being talked down to while being told how to do something brand new yet expected to know already. I, resentfully, comply and close my eyes. Following the instructions as given. I feel his finger leave but the electric sting remains. In fact, it gets worse as time goes on. My fingers twitch and lock up trying to claw the armrests. A sudden flash gets my eyes to shoot open as pain strikes my exposed soul that is now being caught his is charged grasp.

"❄☟✌☠😐 ✡⚐🕆 ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐🕆☼ 👍⚐⚐🏱☜☼✌❄✋⚐☠📬" (THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION.)

I don't get to say anything before he removes it and my body goes limp in place. Great! Now all I can do is watch. Watch as he takes it over to that weird cart...and suffer in silence.

"☞✌💧👍✋☠✌❄✋☠☝📬 ✌ 💧⚐🕆☹ ❄☟✌❄ 🏱⚐💧💧☜💧💧☜💧 💣🕆☹❄✋🏱☹☜ ❄☼✌✋❄💧📬 ✋ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ ❄☟✋☠😐 ✋❄ 🕈✌💧 ☼☜✌☹ ✋☞ ✋ 🕈☜☼☜ ☠⚐❄ 💧☜☜✋☠☝ ✋❄ ☞⚐☼ 💣✡ 💧☜☹☞📬" (FASCINATING. A SOUL THAT POSSESSES MULTIPLE TRAITS. I WOULDN'T THINK IT WAS REAL IF I WERE NOT SEEING IT FOR MY SELF.)

Chops looks at me, earning him my weakened glance, and then moves to witness the Doctor's work.

"how bad is it?"

"👍⚐☠👍☜☼☠☜👎✍" (CONCERNED?)

"*scoff* if she hollows away than i don't get my rights."

"☞✌✋☼ ☜☠⚐🕆☝☟📬" (FAIR ENOUGH.)

I can feel pricking. Sharp pricking.

"❄☟☜ 💧👍✌☼💧 ✌☼☜☠🕯❄ 💣✌☠✡📪 👌🕆❄ ☼✌❄☟☜☼ 👎☜☜🏱📬 ✌ 👍⚐💣💣☜☠👎✌👌☹☜ ☜☞☞⚐☼❄ ✋☠ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✋☠☝ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ☞⚐☼ 💧🕆☼☜📬 ❄☟⚐🕆☝☟ ✌ 💧❄🕆🏱✋👎 👍☟⚐✋👍☜ ❄⚐ 💣✌😐☜ ☠⚐☠☜ ❄☟☜ ☹☜💧💧📬" (THE SCARS AREN'T MANY, BUT RATHER DEEP. A COMMENDABLE EFFORT IN RESISTING THE ENTITY FOR SURE. THOUGH A STUPID CHOICE TO MAKE NONE THE LESS.)

Doctor moves over to a cabinet and collects a small kit, letting me see my soul strung up with tiny hooks to hover over a bowl. I don't like this.

"✋☞ 💧☟☜ 👍⚐☠❄✋☠🕆☜💧 ❄☟✋💧📪 ✋ ☝✋✞☜ ☟☜☼ ☹☜💧💧 ❄☟✌☠ ✌ ☟✌☠👎☞🕆☹ ⚐☞ ❄✋💣☜💧 👌☜☞⚐☼☜ 👌☜✋☠☝ 👍⚐💣🏱☹☜❄☜☹✡ 👍⚐☼☼🕆🏱❄☜👎📬" (IF SHE CONTINUES THIS, I GIVE HER LESS THAN A HANDFUL OF TIMES BEFORE BEING COMPLETELY CORRUPTED.)

"ya sure?"

"❄☟✋💧 ✋💧 ☠⚐❄ 💣✡ ☞✋☼💧❄ ☜☠👍⚐🕆☠❄☜☼ 👎☜✌☹✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ ❄✌✋☠❄☜👎 💧⚐🕆☹💧📬 ❄☟☜☼☜ 🕈☜☼☜ ⚐❄☟☜☼ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ✌☠👎 ☜✞☜☠ 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼💧 ❄☟✌❄ 🕈☜☼☜ ☹⚐💧❄ ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡🕯💧 💧👍✌☼💧📬" (THIS IS NOT MY FIRST ENCOUNTER DEALING WITH TAINTED SOULS. THERE WERE OTHER HUMANS AND EVEN MONSTERS THAT WERE LOST TO THE ENTITY'S SCARS.)

"ya mean this shit happens even to us?"

"👌⚐✡📪 ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ✌ ☞⚐⚐☹ ❄⚐ ❄☟✋☠😐 🕈☜ ✌☼☜ ✌👌⚐✞☜ 💧🕆👍☟ ❄☟✋☠☝💧 🕈☟☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ✋💧 ✋☠✞⚐☹✞☜👎📬 ✋❄ 🕈✌💧 💧⚐ ☹⚐☠☝ ✌☝⚐📬 👌✌👍😐 🕈☟☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ 🕈✌💧 💧❄✋☹☹ ☜💧❄✌👌☹✋💧☟✋☠☝ ☼🕆☹☜💧📬 ❄☟☜☼☜ 🕈✌💧 ✌ 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼ 😐☠⚐🕈☠ ⚐☠☹✡ ✌💧 ❄☟☜ 💧💣✌💧☟☜☼📬 ❄☟☜ 💧💣✌💧☟☜☼ 🕈✌💧 ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ 👎☜💧❄☼⚐✡ ✌☹☹ ⚐👌💧❄✌👍☹☜💧 🕈✋❄☟✋☠ ✌ ❄☼✋✌☹📬 ✋☠👍☹🕆👎✋☠☝ ❄☼☜☜💧📪 🕈✌☹☹💧📪 👌🕆✋☹👎✋☠☝💧📪 ☜❄👍📬 ✋❄ 🕈✌💧 ✌ 👌☜✌💧❄ ☹✋😐☜ ☠⚐ ⚐❄☟☜☼ ✌☠👎 ☜💣👌☼✌👍☜👎 ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ 💣⚐☼☜ ❄☟✌☠ ✋❄ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎🕯✞☜📬 ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ 🏱⚐✋☠❄ ❄☟☜☼☜ 🕈✌💧 ☠⚐ 🕆☠👎⚐✋☠☝ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ 👎✌💣✌☝☜📬 ✋❄ 💧🕆👍👍🕆💣☜👎 ☜✌☼☹✡ ⚐☠ 👎🕆☼✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 👎☜✞☜☹⚐🏱💣☜☠❄ 👍✡👍☹☜📬 ❄☟☜✋☼ ☼☜💣⚐✞✌☹ 🕈✌💧 ✌☹💧⚐ ☞⚐☼ ⚐❄☟☜☼ ☼☜✌💧⚐☠💧📬 ❄☟☜✡ ☟✌👎 👌☜👍⚐💣☜ ❄⚐⚐ 🕆☠☞✌✋☼📬 ❄☟☜ ❄☼✋✌☹💧 🕈☜☼☜ ✌❄ 🕆☠☜✞☜☠ ⚐👎👎💧 ✋☞ ✌ 😐✋☹☹☜☼ 🕈✌💧 ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜💣⚐✞☜ ✌☹☹ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☜☹☜💣☜☠❄💧 ✋☠ ✌ ☼☜✌☹💣📬 ❄☟✋💧 🕈✌💧 ✌☼⚐🕆☠👎 ❄☟☜ 💧✌💣☜ ❄✋💣☜ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ☼☜💣⚐✞☜👎 ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠🕯💧 ✌👌✋☹✋❄✡ ❄⚐ 👍☹✋💣👌📬" (BOY, YOU ARE A FOOL TO THINK WE ARE ABOVE SUCH THINGS WHEN THE ENTITY IS INVOLVED. IT WAS SO LONG AGO. BACK WHEN THE ENTITY WAS STILL ESTABLISHING RULES. THERE WAS A MONSTER KNOWN ONLY AS THE SMASHER. THE SMASHER WAS ABLE TO DESTROY ALL OBSTACLES WITHIN A TRIAL. INCLUDING TREES, WALLS, BUILDINGS, ETC. IT WAS A BEAST LIKE NO OTHER AND EMBRACED THE ENTITY MORE THAN IT SHOULD'VE. TO THE POINT THERE WAS NO UNDOING OF THE DAMAGE. IT SUCCUMED EARLY ON DURING THIS DEVELOPMENT CYCLE. THEIR REMOVAL WAS ALSO FOR OTHER REASONS. THEY HAD BECOME TOO UNFAIR. THE TRIALS WERE AT UNEVEN ODDS IF A KILLER WAS ABLE TO REMOVE ALL OF THE ELEMENTS IN A REALM. THIS WAS AROUND THE SAME TIME THE ENTITY REMOVED THE HUMAN'S ABILITY TO CLIMB.)

Wait...Didn't I climb a tree in my first trial as well as the watchtower? Such a memory has Chops look back at me. Not like I can answer him. I only hope he doesn't mention it. My breath suddenly hitches. Something is digging into me.

"whatcha doin'?"

"❄☟☜💧☜ 💧👍✌☼💧 ✌☼☜ ☹✋😐☜ ✋☠☞☜👍❄✋⚐🕆💧 💧⚐☼☜💧📬 ☞⚐☼ ✌☠✡ ☟☜✌☹✋☠☝ ❄⚐ ❄✌😐☜ ☜☞☞☜👍❄📪 ❄☟☜ ✋☠☞☜👍❄☜👎 ❄✋💧💧🕆☜ 💣🕆💧❄ 👌☜ ☼☜💣⚐✞☜👎📬 ✋ 💣🕆💧❄ 👍⚐☠💧☜☠❄☼✌✋❄ ❄⚐ ✌✞⚐✋👎 🕆☠✋❄☜☠❄✋☠✌☹✡ ☟✌☼💣✋☠☝ ❄☟☜ 💧🕆☼☼⚐🕆☠👎✋☠☝ ☟☜✌☹❄☟✡ ✌☼☜✌💧📬 ☠⚐🕈📬📬📬☹☜✌✞☜ 💣☜ ❄⚐ 💣✡ 👍☼✌☞❄ ✋☠ 🏱☜✌👍☜📬" (THESE SCARS ARE LIKE INFECTIOUS SORES. FOR ANY HEALING TO TAKE EFFECT, THE INFECTED TISSUE MUST BE REMOVED. I MUST CONSENTRAIT TO AVOID UNITENTINALY HARMING THE SURROUNDING HEALTHY AREAS. NOW...LEAVE ME TO MY CRAFT IN PEACE.)

The annoyed arrogant tone Doctor has pushes Chops aside. He grumbles and walks off out of sight.

"✡⚐🕆 ☟✌🏱🏱☜☠ ❄⚐ 👌☜ ✈🕆✋❄☜ ☹🕆👍😐✡📪 ☟🕆💣✌☠📬" (YOU HAPPEN TO BE QUITE LUCKY, HUMAN.)

Really? I'm paralyzed while you do fuck all with my soul. How am I lucky?

"✋☞ ✋❄ 🕈☜☼☜☠🕯❄ ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☼✌☼☜ 💧⚐🕆☹ ✌☠👎 🕆☠✋✈🕆☜ ☺⚐✋☠✋☠☝ ⚐☞ ⚐🕆☼ ☼✌☠😐💧📪 ✋ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ 👌☜ 👎⚐✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 ✌💧 ☝☜☠❄☹✡ ✌💧 ✋ ✌💣📬📬📬⚐☼ ✌❄ ✌☹☹📬" (IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOUR RARE SOUL AND UNIQUE JOINING OF OUR RANKS, I WOULDN'T BE DOING THIS AS GENTLY AS I AM...OR AT ALL.)

So not because of me. Just what I have and what you think I am. I hate it...I hate it when people do this. I am not something so basic. You can't label me with just word of mouth or a passing glance. That is how THEY handle me. The users. I won't be used. I won't be taken advantage of. I won't be hurt again!

"🕈☟✌❄ ❄☟☜ 👎☜✞✋☹📬📬📬✍" (WHAT THE DEVIL...?)

It seems my angsty angst is stirring my soul. Something the Doctor doesn't care for.

"👍☜✌💧☜ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧❄☼🕆☝☝☹✋☠☝📬 ❄☼✌☠💧☞⚐☼💣✋☠☝ ☠⚐🕈 🕈✋☹☹ ⚐☠☹✡ ☟✌☼💣 ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧⚐🕆☹ ☞🕆☼❄☟☜☼ ✋☠ 💧🕆👍☟ ☞☼✌☝☹☜ 💧❄✌❄☜📬" (CEASE YOUR STRUGGLING. TRANSFORMING NOW WILL ONLY HARM YOUR SOUL FURTHER IN SUCH FRAGLE STATE.)

I am in less than a cooperative mood now and my wide-eyed leer at him is meant to make that clear. But the Doctor is in a zero-tolerance mood himself and comes at me with a glare that hurts to make.

"👎⚐ ☠⚐❄ ❄☜💧❄ 💣☜📪 ☟🕆💣✌☠📬 ✡⚐🕆 🕈✋☹☹ ☠⚐❄ ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟☜ ☼☜🕈✌☼👎 ☞⚐☼ ☜✌☼☠✋☠☝ 💣✡ ✋☼☜📬 💧⚐ ☟☜☜👎 💣✡ 🕈⚐☼👎💧📬 ☼☜☹☜☠❄ ✡⚐🕆☼ ✌☝✋❄✌❄✋⚐☠ ⚐☼ ☜☹💧☜📬" (DO NOT TEST ME, HUMAN. YOU WILL NOT LIKE THE REWARD FOR EARNING MY IRE. SO HEED MY WORDS. RELENT YOUR AGITATION OR ELSE.)

Dark rage. I can feel it building. Across the room, my soul flashes sporadically and the scars brighten their intensity. This displeases him and he rubs his hands together, building a surge of electricity.

"❄☟☜ 🕈☜✌😐 ✌☹🕈✌✡💧 ☟✌✞☜ ❄⚐ 👌☜ ☠☜☜👎☹☜💧💧☹✡ 💧❄🕆👌👌⚐☼☠📬" (THE WEAK ALWAYS HAVE TO BE NEEDLESSLY STUBBORN.)

With one hand, he palms my head and sends that charge through my system. My body jerks violently. Faint sounds escape my stiffened vocal cords. Tears begin to swell in my eyes and burn. He stops when the flickering of my soul ends and looks down upon my smoking form.

"✋ ☟✌✞☜ ☹☜✌☼☠☜👎 ✌ ☝☼☜✌❄ 👎☜✌☹ ✌👌⚐🕆❄ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ✋☠ 💣✡ ☹✋☞☜📬 ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ☟✌✞☜ 👎✋☜👎 ✌❄ ✌💧 ☹⚐🕈 ✌💧 🗐📄 ✞⚐☹❄💧📬 ❄✋💣☜ ✋💧 ✌☹💧⚐ ✌ ☞✌👍❄⚐☼📬 ✌ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ⚐☞ 📁📬📂 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜💧 ☞⚐☼ ✌ 💣☜☼☜ 📄 💧☜👍⚐☠👎💧 👍✌☠ 👌☜ ☞✌❄✌☹📬 ✌💧 ✞⚐☹❄✌☝☜ 🖬 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ✠ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜ ❄☟☜ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ 👎☜🏱☜☠👎💧 ⚐☠ 👌⚐👎✡ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜📬 ❄☟☜ ✋☠❄☜☼☠✌☹ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜ 👌☜❄🕈☜☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☜✌☼💧 ✋💧 ⚐☠☹✡ 📂📁📁 ⚐☟💣💧📪 🕈☟✋☹☜ ✋❄ ✋💧 ✌☼⚐🕆☠👎 🗄📁📁 ⚐☟💣💧 🕈☟☜☠ 💣☜✌💧🕆☼☜👎 ☞☼⚐💣 ☞✋☠☝☜☼ ❄⚐ ❄⚐☜📬" (I HAVE LEARNED A GREAT DEAL ABOUT HUMANS IN MY LIFE. HUMANS HAVE DIED AT AS LOW AS 42 VOLTS. TIME IS ALSO A FACTOR. A CURRENT OF 0.1 AMPERES FOR A MERE 2 SECONDS CAN BE FATAL. AS VOLTAGE = CURRENT X RESISTANCE THE CURRENT DEPENDS ON BODY RESISTANCE. THE INTERNAL RESISTANCE BETWEEN THE EARS IS ONLY 100 OHMS, WHILE IT IS AROUND 500 OHMS WHEN MEASURED FROM FINGER TO TOE.)

Is this bastard really lecturing me right now? Everything hurts. Everything burns. I'm moving but not of my own accord.

"✌ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ⚐☞ 📂📁 💣✌ ⚐☼ 📁📬📁📂 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜ 🏱☼⚐✞✋👎☜💧 ✌ 💧☜✞☜☼☜ 💧☟⚐👍😐📪 👌🕆❄ ✋❄ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎☠’❄ 👌☜ ☞✌❄✌☹📬 ✌💧 🕈☜ ✌🏱🏱☼⚐✌👍☟ 📂📁📁 💣✌ ⚐☼ 📁📬📂 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜💧📪 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧 👌☜☝✋☠📬 ✋❄ ✋💧 ✋💣🏱☜☼✌❄✋✞☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜✌☹✋☪☜ ❄☟✌❄ 👌☜👍✌🕆💧☜ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄’💧 ☹⚐🕈 ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜📪 ✌ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ⚐☞ 💣✌☝☠✋❄🕆👎☜ ✌💧 💧💣✌☹☹ ✌💧 📂📁 💣✌ ❄☟☼⚐🕆☝☟ ✋❄ ✋💧 ☜☠⚐🕆☝☟ ❄⚐ 😐✋☹☹ ✌ ☟🕆💣✌☠📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📪 ❄☟☜ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ☠☜✞☜☼ ☼☜✌👍☟☜💧 ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄📪 ✌💧 ❄☟☜ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧😐✋☠ ✋💧 ☟✋☝☟☜☼📪 ❄☟☜☼☜👌✡ ✌👌💧⚐☼👌✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ☜☠❄✋☼☜☹✡📬 ✋☞ ❄☟✋💧 🏱✌☹❄☼✡ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ 🕈☜☼☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜✌👍☟ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ 👌✡ ✌☠✡ 💣☜✌☠💧📪 ✋❄ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ✌☹💣⚐💧❄ 👍☜☼❄✌✋☠☹✡ 👌☜ ☞✌❄✌☹📬" (A CURRENT OF 10 MA OR 0.01 AMPERE PROVIDES A SEVERE SHOCK, BUT IT WOULDN’T BE FATAL. AS WE APPROACH 100 MA OR 0.1 AMPERES, MUSCULAR CONTRACTIONS BEGIN. IT IS IMPERATIVE TO REALIZE THAT BECAUSE OF THE HEART’S LOW RESISTANCE, A CURRENT OF MAGNITUDE AS SMALL AS 10 MA THROUGH IT IS ENOUGH TO KILL A HUMAN. HOWEVER, THE CURRENT NEVER REACHES THE HEART, AS THE RESISTANCE OF YOUR SKIN IS HIGHER, THEREBY ABSORBING THIS CURRENT ENTIRELY. IF THIS PALTRY CURRENT WERE TO REACH THE HEART BY ANY MEANS, IT WOULD ALMOST CERTAINLY BE FATAL.)

He takes hold of my shoulders, temporarily ending my harsh twitching so my head doesn't bash itself.

"🕈☟☜☠ ❄☟☜ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ✋☠👍☼☜✌💧☜💧 👌☜✡⚐☠👎 📂📁📁📁 💣✌ ⚐☼ 📂 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜📪 ❄☟☜ 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧 ✌🕆☝💣☜☠❄ ❄⚐ ✌☠ ☜✠❄☜☠❄ ❄☟✌❄ 👎⚐☜💧 ☠⚐❄ ✌☹☹⚐🕈 ☼☜☹☜✌💧☜ 💧✋☝☠✌☹💧 ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☹✋💣👌💧 ❄⚐ 👌☜ ☼☜👍☜✋✞☜👎📬 ❄☟✋💧 ❄☜☠✌👍✋❄✡ ✋💧 ✋☼⚐☠✋👍✌☹☹✡ ✌ 👍⚐☠💧☜✈🕆☜☠👍☜ ⚐☞ 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 🏱✌☼✌☹✡💧✋💧📬 ✌❄ ❄☟✋💧 🏱⚐✋☠❄📪 ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ ☜✠🏱☜☼✋☜☠👍☜💧 ✞☜☠❄☼✋👍🕆☹✌☼ ☞✋👌☼✋☹☹✌❄✋⚐☠📪 ✌☠ 🕆☠👍⚐⚐☼👎✋☠✌❄☜👎 ✋☠❄☜☼💣✋❄❄☜☠❄ ❄🕈✋❄👍☟✋☠☝ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄’💧 ✞☜☠❄☼✋👍☹☜💧 ❄☟✌❄ 🏱☼⚐👎🕆👍☜💧 ✋☠☜☞☞☜👍❄✋✞☜ ☟☜✌☼❄👌☜✌❄💧📪 🕈☟✋👍☟ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 ☼☜💧🕆☹❄ ✋☠ 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋☞ ☟☜☹🏱 ✋💧 ☠⚐❄ 💧🕆💣💣⚐☠☜👎 ✋💣💣☜👎✋✌❄☜☹✡📬 ☞🕆☼❄☟☜☼ ✋☠👍☼☜✌💧☜ ✋☠ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ❄⚐🕈✌☼👎💧 📄📁📁📁 💣✌ ⚐☼ 📄 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜ 🏱☼⚐👎🕆👍☜💧 👌🕆☼☠💧 ✌☠👎 🕆☠👍⚐☠💧👍✋⚐🕆💧☠☜💧💧📬 ❄☟☜ 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠ ✋☠👎🕆👍☜👎 👌✡ ❄☟☜ 💧☟⚐👍😐 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ☠⚐🕈 💧⚐ 💧☜✞☜☼☜ ❄☟✌❄ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ 🏱☹🕆☠☝☜💧 ✋☠❄⚐ 👍☹✌💣🏱💧📬 ☜✠🏱⚐💧🕆☼☜ ❄⚐ 💧🕆👍☟ ✌☠ ✌💣⚐🕆☠❄ ⚐☞ 👍🕆☼☼��☠❄ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 ☹☜✌👎 ❄⚐ 👎☼☜✌👎☞🕆☹ ✋☠❄☜☼☠✌☹ 👌🕆☼☠💧📪 ✌☠👎 ❄☟☜ 👍☹✌💣🏱💧 💣✌✡ ☹☜✌👎 ❄⚐ 👍✌☼👎✋✌👍 ✌☼☼☜💧❄📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📪 ❄☟☜ 👍☹✌💣🏱✋☠☝ 💣☜👍☟✌☠✋💧💣 ✋💧 👎☜✞✋💧☜👎 ✋☠ ✌ 🕈✌✡ ❄☟✌❄ ✋❄ ✋💧 💧🕆☼🏱☼✋💧✋☠☝☹✡ ☹🕆👍☼✌❄✋✞☜📪 ✌💧 ✋❄ 🏱☼⚐❄☜👍❄💧 ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ ☞☼⚐💣 ✞☜☠❄☼✋👍🕆☹✌☼ ☞✋👌☼✋☹☹✌❄✋⚐☠📬 👍☟✌☠👍☜💧 ⚐☞ 💧🕆☼✞✋✞✌☹ ✌☼☜ 💧👍✌☠❄📪 👌🕆❄ ☼☜👎☜☜💣✌👌☹☜ ✋☞ ❄☟☜ ✞✋👍❄✋💣 ☼☜👍☜✋✞☜💧 ✋💣💣☜👎✋✌❄☜ ✌❄❄☜☠❄✋⚐☠📬 👎☜☞✋👌☼✋☹☹✌❄⚐☼💧 ✌☼☜ 🕆❄✋☹✋☪☜👎 ❄⚐ 💧✌✞☜ 💧🕆👍☟ 💧☟⚐👍😐📫✋💣🏱✋☠☝☜👎 ✞✋👍❄✋💣💧📬" (WHEN THE CURRENT INCREASES BEYOND 1000 MA OR 1 AMPERE, THE MUSCULAR CONTRACTIONS AUGMENT TO AN EXTENT THAT DOES NOT ALLOW RELEASE SIGNALS TO THE LIMBS TO BE RECEIVED. THIS TENACITY IS IRONICALLY A CONSEQUENCE OF MUSCULAR PARALYSIS. AT THIS POINT, THE HEART EXPERIENCES VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION, AN UNCOORDINATED INTERMITTENT TWITCHING OF THE HEART’S VENTRICLES THAT PRODUCES INEFFECTIVE HEARTBEATS, WHICH COULD RESULT IN DEATH IF HELP IS NOT SUMMONED IMMEDIATELY. FURTHER INCREASE IN CURRENT TOWARDS 2000 MA OR 2 AMPERE PRODUCES BURNS AND UNCONSCIOUSNESS. THE MUSCULAR CONTRACTION INDUCED BY THE SHOCK WOULD NOW SO SEVERE THAT THE HEART PLUNGES INTO CLAMPS. EXPOSURE TO SUCH AN AMOUNT OF CURRENT COULD LEAD TO DREADFUL INTERNAL BURNS, AND THE CLAMPS MAY LEAD TO CARDIAC ARREST. DEATH IS POSSIBLE. HOWEVER, THE CLAMPING MECHANISM IS DEVISED IN A WAY THAT IT IS SURPRISINGLY LUCRATIVE, AS IT PROTECTS THE HEART FROM VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION. CHANCES OF SURVIVAL ARE SCANT, BUT REDEEMABLE IF THE VICTIM RECEIVES IMMEDIATE ATTENTION. DEFIBRILLATORS ARE UTILIZED TO SAVE SUCH SHOCK-IMPINGED VICTIMS.)

Why couldn't I be fortunate enough to blackout? Why do I have to be aware of all this?

"❄☟☜ ☼☜🏱☜☼👍🕆💧💧✋⚐☠💧 ⚐☞ 💧🕆👍☟ ☟✌☼💣 👍✌☠ 👌☜ 💧🕆💣💣✌☼✋☪☜👎 ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟✋💧📬📬📬📂 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱 ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ ☺🕆💧❄ ✌ ☞✌✋☠❄ ❄✋☠☝☹☜📬 🗄 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ✌☼☜ ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ 💧☹✋☝☟❄ 💧☟⚐👍😐💧 👌☜✋☠☝ ☞☜☹❄📬 👎✋💧❄🕆☼👌✋☠☝📪 👌🕆❄ ☠⚐❄ 🏱✌✋☠☞🕆☹📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📪 💧❄☼⚐☠☝ ✋☠✞⚐☹🕆☠❄✌☼✡ 💣⚐✞☜💣☜☠❄💧 👍✌☠ 👍✌🕆💧☜ ✋☠☺🕆☼✋☜💧📬 ⌛📫📄🗄 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ☞⚐☼ 🕈⚐💣☜☠ ✌☠👎 🖲📫🗏📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ☞⚐☼ 💣☜☠ ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ 🏱✌✋☠☞🕆☹ 💧☟⚐👍😐💧📬 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 👍⚐☠❄☼⚐☹ ✋💧 ☹⚐💧❄📬 ❄☟✋💧 ✋💧 ❄☟☜ ☼✌☠☝☜ 🕈☟☜☼☜ ☞☼☜☜☪✋☠☝ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄💧 💧❄✌☼❄ ✌☠👎 ❄☟☜ 💣🕆💧👍☹☜💧 ☹⚐👍😐🕆🏱📬 🗄📁📫📂🗄📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ✌☼☜ ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ ☜✠❄☼☜💣☜☹✡ 🏱✌✋☠☞🕆☹ 💧☟⚐👍😐💧📪 ☼☜💧🏱✋☼✌❄⚐☼✡ ✌☼☼☜💧❄📪 ✌☠👎 💧☜✞☜☼☜ 💣🕆💧👍☹☜ 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧📬 ☞☹☜✠⚐☼ 💣🕆💧👍☹☜💧 💣✌✡ 👍✌🕆💧☜ ☟⚐☹👎✋☠☝ ⚐☠🖴 ☜✠❄☜☠💧⚐☼ 💣🕆💧👍☹☜💧 💣✌✡ 👍✌🕆💧☜ ✋☠❄☜☠💧☜ 🏱🕆💧☟✋☠☝ ✌🕈✌✡📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜📬 📂📪📁📁📁📫 🗐📪🗏📁📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ⚐☼ 📂📫🗐📬🗏 ✌💣🏱💧 ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ ✞☜☠❄☼✋👍🕆☹✌☼ ☞✋👌☼✋☹☹✌❄✋⚐☠ 👎✋💧❄🕆☼👌✌☠👍☜📬 💣🕆💧👍☹☜💧 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄🖴 ☠☜☼✞☜ 👎✌💣✌☝☜ ⚐👍👍🕆☼💧📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 ☹✋😐☜☹✡📬 📂📁📪📁📁📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ⚐☼ 📂📁 ✌💣🏱💧 ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ 👍✌☼👎✋✌👍 ✌☼☼☜💧❄ ✌☠👎 💧☜✞☜☼☜ 👌🕆☼☠💧 ⚐👍👍🕆☼📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 🏱☼⚐👌✌👌☹☜📬 📂🗄📪📁📁📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ⚐☼ 📂🗄 ✌💣🏱💧 ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☹⚐🕈☜💧❄ ⚐✞☜☼👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ✌❄ 🕈☟✋👍☟ ✌ ❄✡🏱✋👍✌☹ ☞🕆💧☜ ⚐☼ 👍✋☼👍🕆✋❄ 👌☼☜✌😐☜☼ ⚐🏱☜☠💧 ✌ 👍✋☼👍🕆✋❄📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 ☝🕆✌☼✌☠❄☜☜👎📬 ❄⚐ 🏱🕆❄ ❄☟✋💧 ✋☠ 🏱☜☼💧🏱☜👍❄✋✞☜📪 ☜☹☜👍❄☼✋👍 👍☟✌✋☼💧 🕆💧☜👎 ☞⚐☼ ☜✠☜👍🕆❄✋⚐☠ 🏱🕆☼🏱⚐💧☜💧 🕆💧☜ ✌ ✞⚐☹❄✌☝☜ 🕆💧🕆✌☹☹✡ 🕆💧☜ 📄📪📁📁📁 ❄⚐ 📄📪📄📁📁 ✞⚐☹❄💧 ✌❄ 🖮 ❄⚐ 📂📄 ✌💣🏱💧📬 ❄☟☜ ✞⚐☹❄✌☝☜ ✋ 🕆💧☜👎 ⚐☠ ✡⚐🕆 🕈✌💧 ☜✠✌👍❄☹✡ ⌛ ✌💣🏱💧📬" (THE REPERCUSSIONS OF SUCH HARM CAN BE SUMMARIZED LIKE THIS...1 MILLIAMP IS EQUAL TO JUST A FAINT TINGLE. 5 MILLIAMPS ARE EQUAL TO SLIGHT SHOCKS BEING FELT. DISTURBING, BUT NOT PAINFUL. HOWEVER, STRONG INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS CAN CAUSE INJURIES. 6-25 MILLIAMPS FOR WOMEN AND 9-30 MILLIAMPS FOR MEN IS EQUAL TO PAINFUL SHOCKS. MUSCULAR CONTROL IS LOST. THIS IS THE RANGE WHERE FREEZING CURRENTS START AND THE MUSCLES LOCKUP. 50-150 MILLIAMPS ARE EQUAL TO EXTREMELY PAINFUL SHOCKS, RESPIRATORY ARREST, AND SEVERE MUSCLE CONTRACTIONS. FLEXOR MUSCLES MAY CAUSE HOLDING ON; EXTENSOR MUSCLES MAY CAUSE INTENSE PUSHING AWAY. DEATH IS POSSIBLE. 1,000- 4,300 MILLIAMPS OR 1-4.3 AMPS IS EQUAL TO VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION DISTURBANCE. MUSCLES CONTRACT; NERVE DAMAGE OCCURS. DEATH IS LIKELY. 10,000 MILLIAMPS OR 10 AMPS IS EQUAL TO CARDIAC ARREST AND SEVERE BURNS OCCUR. DEATH IS PROBABLE. 15,000 MILLIAMPS OR 15 AMPS IS EQUAL TO THE LOWEST OVERCURRENT AT WHICH A TYPICAL FUSE OR CIRCUIT BREAKER OPENS A CIRCUIT. DEATH IS GUARANTEED. TO PUT THIS IN PERSPECTIVE, ELECTRIC CHAIRS USED FOR EXECUTION PURPOSES USE A VOLTAGE USUALLY USE 2,000 TO 2,200 VOLTS AT 7 TO 12 AMPS. THE VOLTAGE I USED ON YOU WAS EXACTLY 6 AMPS.)

He lets go and looks down at me, my twitching is slightly less crazy.

"✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ☠⚐❄ 👌☜ 💧⚐ 😐✋☠👎 ☠☜✠❄ ❄✋💣☜📬 💧⚐ ☹☜✌☼☠ ☞☼⚐💣 ❄☟✋💧📬 👎⚐ ✌💧 ❄⚐☹👎 ✌☠👎 ☠⚐ 🕆💧☜☹☜💧💧 ☟✌☼💣 🕈✋☹☹ 👌☜ 👎⚐☠☜📬" (I WILL NOT BE SO KIND NEXT TIME. SO LEARN FROM THIS. DO AS TOLD AND NO USELESS HARM WILL BE DONE.)

He returns to his work on my soul, confident that he won't be needing to discipline me again. This is hell. I'm a drooling broken rag doll that feels pain all over. Even my tears are of little comfort, they feel like acid rolling off my skin. Chops returns sometime later, probably heard the loud crackling of Doctor's electrocution, drinking what looks like a can of pop. Did he find a vending machine? Lucky fucker! The Doctor doesn't pay him any mind, so he shuffles around and looks everywhere like a paranoid sheep. Why so jumpy, bonehead? You're not the one being operated on and fried. When his eyes land on me he seems to stare a bit more intently than expected, maybe seeing something I can't.

"the fuck happened here?"

"✋ ❄⚐☹👎 ✡⚐🕆 ❄⚐ ☹☜✌✞☜ 💣☜ ❄⚐ 💣✡ 🕈⚐☼😐📬" (I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME TO MY WORK.)

This ticks Chops off yet he avoids bugging the Doctor. Instead, he approaches me while chugging what's left of his soda. God, what I wouldn't give to have that right now.

"ya look like shit."

Really? I couldn't tell, dumbass.

"pissed him off, didn't ya? what is it with ya and doin' that?"

This coming from the guy that made me give his knife fellatio.

"wanna know somethin' messed up? whatever he did to ya was him goin' easy. if he really was pissed, you'd be fried like overcooked bacon."

And that is supposed to make me feel better?

Due to fucked up nerves and steaming tears I haven't moved my eyes or blinked in awhile. The lack of attention his way has him moving to be in my face and staring into my pained orbs.

"ya didn't go overboard and make her brain dead, did ya?"

He ponders aloud.

"carryin' her ass back isn't somethin' i wanna do."

The Doctor pauses.

"🕈☟⚐ 💧✌✋👎 ✡⚐🕆🕯☹☹ 👌☜ ☹☜✌✞✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ ☟☜☼✍" (WHO SAID YOU'LL BE LEAVING WITH HER?)

I had warned him of something like this happening.

"and what? ya expect us to leave her here?"

"✡⚐🕆 💣✋💧🕆☠👎☜☼💧❄✌☠👎📬📬📬" (YOU MISUNDERSTAND...)

The sound of building charge hits our senses and before Chops can react it's cast across the room, sending Chops flying.

"💧☟☜ ✋💧☠🕯❄ ☹☜✌✞✋☠☝ ☟☜☼☜📬 🏱☜☼✋⚐👎📬" (SHE ISN'T LEAVING HERE. PERIOD.)

I so freaking called it.

Not one to take a hit and flee, Chops gets back up. Standing his ground and snarling like a mad dog.

"ya think ya can take what's mine? nah, motherfucker, that shit ain't happenin'."

Now that things have escalated, the Doctor fully faces Legion.

"🕈☟✌❄ 👎✋👎 ✡⚐🕆 ☼☜✌☹☹✡ ☜✠🏱☜👍❄ 🕈☟☜☠ ✡⚐🕆 👌☼⚐🕆☝☟❄ ☟☜☼ ☟☜☼☜✍ ❄☟✌❄ ✋ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ✌✋👎 ✡⚐🕆 💧☜☹☞☹☜💧💧☹✡ 🕈✋❄☟ ☠⚐ 💣⚐❄✋✞☜ ⚐☞ 💣✡ ⚐🕈☠✍ ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌👎 ❄⚐ ☟✌✞☜ 😐☠⚐🕈☠ ✡⚐🕆 🕈☜☼☜ 🕈✌☹😐✋☠☝ ✋☠❄⚐ ✌ ❄☼✌🏱📬 👌🕆❄ ✌ ❄☼✌🏱 ⚐☠☜ 💣🕆💧❄ 💧❄☜🏱 ✋☠ ❄⚐ ☝☜❄ 🕈☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 🕈✌☠❄☜👎📬 💧🕆👍☟ ✋☝☠⚐☼✌☠👍☜ ✋💧 👎☜💧☜☼✞✋☠☝ ⚐☞ 🏱🕆☠✋💧☟💣☜☠❄📬" (WHAT DID YOU REALLY EXPECT WHEN YOU BROUGHT HER HERE? THAT I WOULD AID YOU SELFLESSLY WITH NO MOTIVE OF MY OWN? YOU HAD TO HAVE KNOWN YOU WERE WALKING INTO A TRAP. BUT A TRAP ONE MUST STEP IN TO GET WHAT YOU WANTED. SUCH IGNORANCE IS DESERVING OF PUNISHMENT.)

"*growls* bastard!"

Rage has Chops throw his blade at the Doctor. But the mad man doesn't move. He simply catches the metal weapon and electrocutes it, causing great pain to Chops.

"☼☜💧🏱☜👍❄ ⚐☞ ⚐🕆☼ 🏱✌❄✋☜☠❄💧 ✋💧 ✌❄ ❄☟☜ 👍⚐☼☜ ⚐☞ ⚐🕆☼ 🏱☼✋☠👍✋🏱☹☜💧📬 ⚐☠👍☜ 🕈☜ ☟✌✞☜ ☜💧❄✌👌☹✋💧☟☜👎 ✌☠ ☜☞☞☜👍❄✋✞☜ 💣☜❄☟⚐👎 ⚐☞ ❄☼☜✌❄💣☜☠❄📪 🕈☜ 👍✌☠ ☞⚐👍🕆💧 ⚐☠ ✋❄💧 ☜☞☞✋👍✋☜☠❄ 💣☜✌☠💧 ⚐☞ 👎☜☹✋✞☜☼✡📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📬📬📬❄⚐ ✌✞⚐✋👎 ☼☜☹✌🏱💧☜ ☞☼⚐💣 ⚐🕆☼ 💣⚐💧❄ ❄☜☠✌👍✋⚐🕆💧 💧🕆👌☺☜👍❄💧📪 ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ 🕆💧☜ 💣✌✠✋💣🕆💣 ☹☜✞☜☹💧 🕈☟☜☠ 🏱☼⚐👍☜☜👎✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ 👎✋💧👍✋🏱☹✋☠✌☼✡ ✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧📬" (RESPECT OF OUR PATIENTS IS AT THE CORE OF OUR PRINCIPLES. ONCE WE HAVE ESTABLISHED AN EFFECTIVE METHOD OF TREATMENT, WE CAN FOCUS ON ITS EFFICIENT MEANS OF DELIVERY. HOWEVER...TO AVOID RELAPSE FROM OUR MOST TENACIOUS SUBJECTS, I WILL USE MAXIMUM LEVELS WHEN PROCEEDING WITH DISCIPLINARY ACTIONS.)

Chops doesn't look so good and I'm helpless to aid him. Legion isn't built to deal with the Doctor, a killer that can work in short and mid-range. At best Chops has speed on his side especially if he goes into Feral Frenzy, but two things are against him. One is that Feral Frenzy only lasts a short while. And two, the electricity generators in the room might enhance the Doctor's power indirectly.

"❄☟☜ 💧❄✋💣🕆☹🕆💧 💣🕆💧❄ 👌☜ 😐☜🏱❄ ✌👍❄✋✞☜ ✌❄ ✌ 👍⚐☠✞🕆☹💧✋✞☜ ☹☜✞☜☹📬 💧✋👎☜ ☜☞☞☜👍❄💧 ✌☼☜ ✞☜☼✡ ☼✌☼☜📬" (THE STIMULUS MUST BE KEPT ACTIVE AT A CONVULSIVE LEVEL. SIDE EFFECTS ARE VERY RARE.)

"*huff* fuck you!"

Doctor charges to shock the weapon again but Chops yanks it harder than the Doctor expects, regaining

it. With the blade back in his hands Chops gets ready for the Doctor's next more. A smart play since he's at the home-field disadvantage.

"✋☞ ✡⚐🕆 ❄☟✋☠😐 ✡⚐🕆🕯☹☹ 👌☜ ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ ❄✌😐☜ 💧🕆👍☟ ✌ ☼✌☼☜ 💧🏱☜👍✋💣☜☠ ☞☼⚐💣 💣✡ ☝☼✌💧🏱📪 ✌☹☹⚐🕈 💣☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜📫☜👎🕆👍✌❄☜ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧✋💣🏱☹☜ 💣✋☠👎📬" (IF YOU THINK YOU'LL BE ABLE TO TAKE SUCH A RARE SPECIMEN FROM MY GRASP, ALLOW ME TO RE-EDUCATE YOUR SIMPLE MIND.)

"if ya think you'll have a chance like that again, you're in for a hell of a bad time"

Wait...Again? Now I'm really sure these two have a bad history.

Doctor releases the charge across the ground in a wide blast. Lucky for Chops, he enters Feral Frenzy and the speed boost he gets allows him to miss the attack with a quick leap. Activating Feral Frenzy causes The Legion to enter a deadly rage...for ten whole seconds...unless he's got add-ons to increase the duration and shorten cooldown time but even then that's only by seconds.

"✋❄🕯💧 ❄✋💣☜ ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☞⚐☹☹⚐🕈🕆🏱 ❄☼☜✌❄💣☜☠❄📪 👌⚐✡✏" (IT'S TIME FOR YOUR FOLLOWUP TREATMENT, BOY!)

The Doctor does have unlimited ammo with his electric powers however he does have to take a few seconds to charge up each time. Chops knows this and his knife doesn't have such a drawback. But if he swings while in frenzy and doesn't hit anyone he will lose frenzy, getting disoriented as the rage subsides. So Chops uses the cover of all the clutter in the room to his advantage to keep from being vulnerable as Doctor follows, trying to get decent shots. I can't move to see everything but I can see what Chops is doing, it's a very smart move. He's keeping the Doctor's attention on him, luring him around the room in a complete circle. The Doctor doesn't realize the plan till Chops is near it...My soul.

"👎⚐☠🕯❄ ✡⚐🕆 ☞🕆👍😐✋☠☝ 👎✌☼☜✏" (DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!)

Doctor blasts Chops square on the back and he's slammed into a partition wall. By now frenzy has ended and needs a twenty-second cooldown, providing he doesn't have an add-on to shorten that. Monsters have fast recovery abilities and Doctor knows this. It's why he wastes no time to begin stomping on the smaller skeleton.

"✡⚐🕆 ✋☠💧✋☝☠✋☞✋👍✌☠❄ 🕈⚐☼💣✏ 👎⚐ ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌✞☜ ✌☠✡ ✋👎☜✌ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ 💧✋☝☠✋☞✋👍✌☠👍☜ ❄☟✋💧 ☟🕆💣✌☠ ☟⚐☹👎💧✍ ✌ 💧⚐🕆☹ 🕈✋❄☟ 💣🕆☹❄✋🏱☹☜ ❄☼✌✋❄💧 👍✌☠ 🏱⚐💧💧☜💧💧 🕆☠❄⚐☹👎 🏱⚐❄☜☠❄✋✌☹✏ ✋❄ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹✡ ☟⚐☹👎 ❄☟☜ 😐☜✡ ❄⚐ ☜💧👍✌🏱✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 ☟☜☹☹✏ ✌☠👎 💧⚐ ☹⚐☠☝ ✌💧 ❄☟☜☼☜🕯💧 ☜✞☜☠ ✌ ☞☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠ ⚐☞ ✌ 👍☟✌☠👍☜ ✋☠ ❄☟✌❄ 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌✋☹✋❄✡📪 ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ 👎⚐ ✌☠✡❄☟✋☠☝ ✌☠👎 ☜✞☜☼✡❄☟✋☠☝ ❄⚐ 💣✌😐☜ ✋❄ ☟✌🏱🏱☜☠✏ ☠⚐ ⚐☠☜ 🕈✋☹☹ 💧❄✌☠👎 ✋☠ 💣✡ 🕈✌✡📪 ☠⚐❄ ✡⚐🕆📪 ❄☟☜ ⚐❄☟☜☼💧📪 ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧📪 ⚐☼ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡✏ ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ 👌☜ ☼✋👎 ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☹☹ ☹✋😐☜ 👎✋💧☝🕆💧❄✋☠☝ ✋☹☹☠☜💧💧☜💧✏ ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ☠⚐❄ 👌☜ 👎☜☠✋☜👎 ⚐☼ 💣✡ ☠✌💣☜ ✋💧☠🕯❄ 🕈📬 👎📬 ☝✌💧❄☜☼✏" (YOU INSIGNIFICANT WORM! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF THE SIGNIFICANCE THIS HUMAN HOLDS? A SOUL WITH MULTIPLE TRAITS CAN POSSESS UNTOLD POTENTIAL! IT COULD POSSIBLY HOLD THE KEY TO ESCAPING THIS HELL! AND SO LONG AS THERE'S EVEN A FRACTION OF A CHANCE IN THAT POSSIBILITY, I WILL DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING TO MAKE IT HAPPEN! NO ONE WILL STAND IN MY WAY, NOT YOU, THE OTHERS, THE HUMANS, OR THE ENTITY! I WILL BE RID OF YOU ALL LIKE DISGUSTING ILLNESSES! I WILL NOT BE DENIED OR MY NAME ISN'T W. D. GASTER!)

He has a proper name? I mean, it's dumb to think he didn't, but then why do the others just call themselves by the names the humans or the Entity gave them? Monsters make my brain hurt with the number of questions they stir up. But if that's the case, what's Legions' real names? It can't honestly be Bones, Chops, Boo, and Dead Eye...Can it?

Feeling his physical brutality was sufficient enough, the Gaster rubs his hands and charges up a large amount of electricity. Not sure they can actually kill each other but the power could be enough to incapacitate Chops for an unknown amount of time. However, Chops has the strength to throw his blade once more. The Doctor hardly moves to avoid the hit and is overwhelmed with smug superiority.

"✌ 🏱✋❄✋☞🕆☹ ✌❄❄☜💣🏱❄ 💣✌👎☜ 👌✡ ✌ 🏱✋❄✋☞🕆☹ ☞⚐⚐☹📬" (A PITIFUL ATTEMPT MADE BY A PITIFUL FOOL.)

"*strained* heh...wasn't aimin' for you."

Gaster turns with alarm to see the true target of Chops' attack.

"☠⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐✏✏" (NOOOOOOOOOOO!!)

The blade impaled itself in my soul, a sly move aided by my silence. Gaster attempts to keep it from shattering but such damage is beyond even his skill. Needless to say, he's not happy about it.

"🕈☟✌❄ ☟✌✞☜ ✡⚐🕆 👎⚐☠☜✍✏" (WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!)

Chops picks himself up as I feel the cold embrace of death taking me.

"*grunt* remember, meat...ya owe me."

My eyes roll into the back of my head and everything goes black.

[AT THE SURVIVOR'S CAMPSITE]

Another cycle of feeding comes for the Entity, thus a new day. Five trials. Seventeen of the eighteen Survivors are called out for the hunt, some sent out twice. Five Monsters are sent out to sacrifice the human meat. The Entity being hungrier than usual typically does two or three trails per day. Something must be coming. Something it is storing extra soul energy for. The eve of Hallows is approaching. Soon...Very soon. The flowers will bloom once more. But not yet.

By what they guess to be night time comes around, the humans at camp are frazzled from the frantic trials and lack of prep time given. Most are glad it's over and they were only sent once. Others wish the lucky ones would go jump off a cliff. Tough one has been more annoyed than ever. One that's gathered information from the others that his lady wasn't sent to the trials. David King sits and stares into the campfire, doing something some of the others would doubt him able to do...think. Something doesn't feel right. His instincts tell him so. Why wasn't she back by now? She had to be held somewhere. It made sense. He didn't know a lot about her but he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't join the monsters willingly. She's a tough girl, not a killer. Maybe it was the Entity. Damn thing seems to toy with her more than the rest. Maybe it was trying to keep her as a monster to make her a permanent Killer. Well nuts to that! He ain't letting that happen. Granted, he can't run off to look for her without the chance of being attacked by one or more of the monsters. Not like he can't handle them. But there are the rare few that even he can not power his way through. Like that one that got him in the woods...Shape...that thing is like a tank. You can punch a tank but it's only going to hurt you more. Or the Huntress. He's never taken on a woman before in a real fight yet that freaky fish is solid muscle wielding hatches and an ax. Yeah...fuck that fish bitch and her stupid humming. Still, there had to be something he could do other than look into the foggy woods while pacing like a dog waiting for someone to come home. He just didn't know what that something was, much to the unease of the group.

Suddenly there's a shift of the wind. The fog appears to pool within the safety of the camp. They knew what this was, a human was dead and coming back. The dead always returning in fog while the living run back on their own, except the ones that escape in the hatch. Either way, David was quick to rush to the form emerging from the darkness. She was still for a few moments once her body reformed. But when she gasped to life, it was obvious that something happened again to shake her to the core. As much as wanted to do something, a part of him told him to give her a moment, and yet the other part of him wanted to...

"D-David?"

Why did his name sound good in her voice?

"Welcome back, Luv. Miss me?"

He never really had friends. Not real ones, anyway. He had an entourage. A group of sods enjoying the high life with his credit card. If you were to ask them if he was good with women, they'd laugh and tell you he's too much of a shithead to keep one for long. They'd be eating those words if they saw this. him offering his hand to her like a gentleman and she sincerely smiling.

"Yeah...I did."

She takes his hand and he figures it's now or never to seal the deal before something else happens to take her away. He pulls her to her feet and away from camp...into the woods. Not that anyone seemed to stop this.

"David? What are you doing?"

"No worries, Luv. Trust me."

He leads her not too far from the camp. Just far enough to be hidden by the fog but close enough to make a quick retreat if something is wandering about.

"Dude, what is up? Because I'm not in a good mood for messed up shit right now."

So something did happen. Better go about this with the utmost caution, care, and respect. So what pray tell is the move he aims to use? Well he goes for the very sweet...Grab the face and smooch move. Because that never fails to sweep the ladies off their feet and let her know she's yours. This couldn't possibly bite him in the ass.

...She breaks the kiss and punches his shoulder rather hard, enough to make her knuckles pop.

"The fuck are you doing?!"

Is...Is she serious? Has she been blind to his past advances?

"Ya 'ave no idea 'ow much I've missed ya."

She gives him a funny look.

"David, my guy, gonna be real right now. I like you. You're a decent guy and I respect you. But I was just royally fucked up and I'd thank you kindly if you'd just not hit on me for the next couple minutes. Please?"

Damn it, how can he say no to her for being honest?

"Alright. I'll lay off for now."

She frowns slightly.

"Wanna...Hold me for a bit?"

Compromise? Accepted! He takes her into his arms and she snickers thinking him silly. Yet she nestles into him, enjoying the comfort.

"This good?"

"Yeah. This is nice. ...Did you really miss me that much?"

He strokes her hair.

"Is that 'ard to believe?"

"I wasn't gone that long."

"To me ya were."

"Heh...That was cheesy."

"It ain't easy bein' cheesy."

"*giggles* Oh my god..."

She gives his cheek a quick peck.

"You're such a dork."

She's being affectionate? Maybe she's become comfortable now. This deserves a test.

"Luv..."

"Hmmm?"

This time he goes for a less forceful approach. A gentle tilt of the head, a soft caress of the cheek, a slow lean in for the kiss, and say something as fancy as his name.

"I want ya."

Brilliant!

She exhales from her nose and slips out of his hold.

"Sorry. But I don't know you well enough or have the feelings to do what you want of me. Besides...I'm not here just for you or your needs."

Damn it! Why is this so hard?!

"Fine. Ya want to know me better? Ya know I come from money, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was disowned."

"...Why?"

"I beat the shit out of my old man."

"The hell you did that for?"

"Because the bastard was goin' beat my mum."

Her expression looks like she was hit.

"It was one thin' when 'e'd go after me. But I'd be damned if that cocksucker touched 'er. I'll never understand why she stayed with 'im."

"David...I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It ain't worth feelin' bad about."

"But..."

He goes for a kiss and sticks the landing...on her forehead.

"It's sweet of ya to care, Luv. Really it is."

If at first you don't succeed, sway them using tragic personal information of a sympathetic nature.

"It's your turn. I told ya somethin' to better know me. Now ya tell me somethin' to better know ya."

Her face blanks.

"There's nothing to really know. I'm as basic and boring as you can get."

"Really? Ya can't think of just one thin' ya can trust me with? Ya know I'm not one to blather on to anybody but ya."

"There's not much to tell that I haven't already."

"Come on..."

"What do you want me to say?! How I was conceived to save a failing marriage? How in the seventh grade three boys tried to assault me and all the school gave me for compensation were museum tickets, which, I still have back home? That I've attempted to end myself multiple times? And as of recent, that I'm a pawn in a twisted game I can't figure out how to play. There! That good enough for you?"

The heck is she going off for?

"Oi! Don't get your nips in a twist."

"Then don't hound me!"

"Look, thin's ain't that bad once ya get used to them. the trials..."

"I wasn't talking about the trials!"

Her body began to tremble and she held her head in pain, eyes tearing up. Maybe now wasn't the best time to try moving things out of the friend-zone.

"Luv, I didn't mean to..."

"No...No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to explode like that. Not on you. *sigh* I don't want to take things out on you. It's just...I'm so messed up right now."

Doing something smart, he lets her go. Better luck next time. For now she needs space and for him to be her buddy.

"Anythin' I can do to make ya feel better?"

She steps around a bit, fidgeting with uncertainty.

"Want me to leave ya be?"

She stops.

"Could we...stay here a bit longer? Maybe tell dumb stories for the hell of it?"

That made him smile.

"Sure."

He sits down and pats the spot beside him. Her attitude does a 180°, practically jumping to his side and getting all close. Maybe she was making it up to him for snapping. Because when he took the chance of putting his arm around her waist she didn't tell him off or move it.

"Sorry again for being a bitch."

"You're fine, Luv. I don't blame ya. Couldn't 'ave been easy out there with them monsters."

She rests her head on his shoulder.

"Can we not get into that, please?"

"Sure thin', Luv. Just relax and let me take care of ya."

A soft coo-like sigh leaves her.

"Thanks, David."

"Anytime."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did you, I don't know, bring me out here to fool around or some junk?"

David has a choice here, he can either lie to play it cool or be honest...He picks the latter.

"Not gonna lie...Was hopin' to get some snoggin' action with ya."

She slaps his knee playfully.

"I so called it."

"Heh, am I that easy to read?"

"I'd say like a book but you're more of a comic strip, complete with pictures and action bubbles."

"But can ya blame me?"

"Nah. You've made it clear that you like me. Wanting more isn't something to feel bad about. Just let me deal with my crap and then I'll be okay with thinking about normal stuff...like macking on tough Brits."

A playful smirk comes to him. This is a different kind of fight, yet one he believes he can still win. She wants time? Time is all any of them have. He can afford to wait. You can bet on that. Always bet on King.

[ELSEWHERE IN THE FOG]

Chops finally made it back to Mount Ormond Resort and relinquishes control of the body to Bones. This was more stressful than he was willing to deal with for a moment longer. So his ghostly ass makes its way for the second floor to unwind. Meanwhile the other three try to deal with what has happened.

"well that went about as well as expected."

{it is not like we did not get the things we wanted out of it.}

Dead Eye muses behind his leader much to Bones' disgust.

"are you referring to the doc treating her or that shit you got chops to do?"

Dead Eye's grin stretches wide.

{both.}

Bones groans.

"that's exactly the kind of shit that makes me not give you the body."

{you act as though i do not get results. she needed to be taught a lesson. pets need to know their place.}

Bones rubs his sockets as Dead Eye chuckles to himself, moving to another part of the room.

{denial does not suit you, bones. you were having just as much of a good time as we were.}

Bones slumps against his seat.

"*mumble* freaks..."

{um...bones?}

Boo fiddles with his hands timidly.

"what?"

{uh...so...did the doctor do anything we went there for?}

A good legitimate question.

"from what i could tell. he scraped a bunch of junk out of those scars. if they didn't refill when she died then she's probably got some more time than she did before. which is good for us."

{because she'll be cooperative in trials?}

"that and it gives us more time to train her..."

{i knew you were into it.}

Dead Eye mocks and Bones snarls.

"train her to use her power, you crazy bastard!"

Dead Eye laughs to himself. Bones goes back to ignoring he exists, thankful that Boo was so normal by comparison.

{are you sure we can do it?}

"ugh...we don't have much choice. if she corrupts completely before we get our rights than we look like idiots for trying. and then we'll never get respected by those assholes."

{when should we start?}

Bones pauses for thought.

"let's give it a go the feed cycle after next. meeting up again so soon after this shit won't be good for either of us."

{sounds good.}

"and you're teaching her."

This shocks Boo.

{w-what?}

"you know damn well why. if it helps, i'll switch with you if needed."

{okay...thanks.}

"don't thank me. we both know we can't trust those two to do it."

{i don't know. chops was doing okay till...yeah...nevermind.}

{you fear that which you do not understand...}

Dead Eye pops up behind Boo and the poor guy jumps across the room.

{fear is the path to acceptance. fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to denial, denial leads to bargaining, bargaining leads to depression, and depression leads to acceptance. so while you fear me now, i know that one day...you will be just like me!}

{no! i'll never be like you!}

{search your feelings; you know it to be true.}

{no!}

Bones cringes. He's surrounded by insane dorks.

{hey, fuck-face...}

Chops calls out from above.

"what, ass-clown?!"

{...why do ya think the quack was collecting that soul shit?}

To that Bones had no answer. Gaster is a crafty enigma. His twisted logic can lead to many paths, most of which are insane and convoluted. Though what he said is something to dwell on. Can her soul really be their ticket out of here? So many questions. So little answers.

#undertale #dead by daylight #Lynsie #Anomaly

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accio-spaceman · 5 years

Text

VORTEX Magazine - Issue 122

(April 2019)

Download PDF version for FREE on the Big Finish website

Partners In Time

At last! The Doctor and Donna are back!

[Above Cover for “The Tenth Doctor Adventures Volume Three”, featuring (l-r, top-bottom) Catherine Tate, David Tennant, Jacqueline King, Bernard Cribbins, and two Judoon.]

The Doctor and Donna Noble are arguably one of the most popular Doctor and companion pairings ever, and their adventures in space and time continue in The Tenth Doctor Adventures Volume Three. David Tennant and Catherine Tate reprise their TV roles for a second run of audio adventures from Big Finish.

(Full Article Under Cut)

Producer David Richardson says: “I actually got very nervous in the weeks before recording, as I did on their previous box set. You are just so aware that you are going to be working with two of the biggest stars in this country, and you want them to have a brilliant time and for the whole thing to run smoothly.

“The night before recording I just told myself, forget the nerves, treat it like any other production and it will be great. And actually by the time David and Catherine arrived at Moat Studios, the nerves had totally evaporated.

“David and Catherine don’t behave like stars – they walked in as two normal people who get on with everyone. When you’re sitting having a cup of tea with David Tennant talking about The Avengers or whatever, you’re really just chatting to a lovely human being.”

It was director Ken Bentley’s first time directing David and Catherine, and before recording began he admitted to Vortex: “I’ve not had much time to think about it as we’ve been extremely busy through August and September. I only just managed to squeeze in the time to schedule it!

[Above (l-r) David Tennant and Catherine Tate]

“I’m like any fan, dying to hear what the Nobles, Wilf and The Doctor get up to. What a dream cast!”

– Russell T Davies

“I always get excited about working on a new range. The bit I love the most about directing is working with actors, and to work with actors new to me is always something I look forward to.

“In my line of work it’s the rehearsal room and the recording studio where the magic happens, and it’s always a treat to watch professionals bringing roles to life.

“All actors work and respond differently. Part of my job is to quickly figure out how an actor likes to work so I can help make the recording go as smoothly as possible for them – and for everybody else. It’s a challenge I enjoy and I like to get it right. So it’s exciting for me to work with an entirely new team and to figure out what makes them tick.”

[Above Cover for “No Place” by James Goss, featuring (l-r) Bernard Cribbins, Catherine Tate, David Tennant, and Jacqueline King.]

The first story in the set is No Place by James Goss. Script editor Matt Fitton says: “We knew straightaway we could bring the wider Noble family into it by having Donna and Sylvia together, so we gave James that brief. It meant it had to be set on Donna’s contemporary Earth, since her mum isn’t aware of her space and time travel yet.”

Former Doctor Who showrunner Russell T Davies, creator of Donna, Sylvia and Wilf, tells Vortex: “I’m so excited about the return of the Noble family. I put in a request to Big Finish never thinking they’d actually pull it off. But, I might have known, they’re unstoppable! Marvellously, I haven’t heard the adventure myself yet, so I’m like any fan, dying to hear what the Nobles, Wilf and the Doctor get up to. What a dream cast!”

Jacqueline King was delighted to be back as Sylvia.

She says: “Since we finished on TV I’ve seen David a couple of times, and I keep in touch with Bernard because he’s so gorgeous! He and I did the quiz show Pointless. And Catherine was in a play which Bernard and I went to see together, so that was lovely. We’ve just not been all together so there was so much to catch up on. I felt desperately maternal towards Catherine, wanting to know how she was!

“I was very jealous that David and Catherine were going on to do more stories over the next couple of days without Bernard and myself. Bernard and I were joking, asking, How can you do that? That’s just disloyal!

“It was lovely, and if we could have carried on I would have but it was just one day. It would be heaven if we could do more!”

Matt continues: “James came back with this ‘haunted makeovers’ idea which was great, and as it was being developed we asked James to keep in mind a role for Wilf in case we were able to get Bernard Cribbins – perhaps just a cameo role. As it turned out we learned fairly early on that we could have Bernard for the whole day, so it all worked out perfectly and Wilf was fully included in the episode at the storyline stage.”

In a similar vein to what the TV show did at the time, No Place taps into the zeitgeist of what is currently popular on TV, which in this case brings in the feed of ghost and home makeover reality TV shows.

“If you’re a fan of either Buzzfeed Unsolved or Homes Under The Hammer you’ll find lots to love in this.”

– James Goss

James explains: “Honestly, when you think about it most horror films are home makeover shows! Family moves into house on haunted graveyard. Tries to do it up. Ends up running away screaming/being dead/finds out they were always dead so probably shouldn’t have bothered wallpapering the downstairs bathroom. This was inspired by that. Imagining a horror film but with Kirsty Allsop following our screaming family about. And making the screaming family the Doctor, Donna, Sylvia and Wilf.

“If you’re a fan of either Buzzfeed Unsolved or Homes Under the Hammer you’ll find lots to love in this. We’ve got a ghostbox, we’ve got replacement light fittings, we’ve mysterious voices, we’ve endless discussions about plumbing. The one thing we couldn’t do was Hammer’s endless, appalling punning music track. (Presenter: ‘They really do love this hopeless place.’ Music: ‘We Found Love in a Hopeless Place’)!”

Producer David Richardson adds: “I’m struck by how creepy it all sounds. Some of the sequences in the old house are really unsettling even without any effects or music, which is a sure sign of how great the writing, performances and direction are.”

[Above Cover for “One Mile Down” by Jenny T Colgan, featuring (l-r) David Tennant, a Judoon, and Catherine Tate.]

One Mile Down by Jenny T Colgan continues the Doctor and Donna’s adventures when they find themselves in an underwater city and encounter the Judoon.

Matt continues: “In terms of using new series monsters, the Judoon are one of the most recognisable and the Tenth Doctor has some history with them, meeting them several times during his era.

“Because of what’s been established on screen there are certain monsters he’s meeting for the first time, but with the Judoon he knows what they’re about and how they work. They are not power-crazed evil monsters, they are mercenaries working for other people, and their agenda isn’t always immediately clear. It’s nice to have that bit of potential uncertainty – are they an ally? Are they a threat? We get to play with that in this story.”

“We have individuals in the Judoon ranks which we’ve touched on before. There’s the trainee, Klo, who starts to side with the Doctor and Donna, realising they can do some good during the story, which is a fun thing to play with.” The story’s setting lends itself to a good soundscape, with a city beneath the waves.

Matt explains: “In the TV episode Smith and Jones, the first thing we see the Judoon do is control the rain and send it upwards with their H2O scoop.

“That means we can make use of their technology which lends itself perfectly to an audio story.”

Of course, Donna has also encountered the Judoon on TV, and Matt adds: “Watching Donna in The Stolen Earth, we get a reaction from her to the Judoon, but when we checked with Russell he watched it back and felt there was no reason why Donna couldn’t have met them before.

“What’s clearly a surprise to her is the Doctor speaking Judoon, so we were very careful not to have him doing that in front of her.”

[Above Cover for “The Creeping Death” by Roy Gill, featuring (l-r) David Tennant, Catherine Tate, and Lauren Cornelius dressed in 1952 London period-costume, holding a torch.]

Concluding this series is The Creeping Death by Roy Gill.

David explains: “We asked the writers for short pitches – I think they might have sent in three ideas each. I’ve actually been keeping a list of things I want to see in a Doctor Who story, one of which was ‘The London Fog of 1952’, so it was a no-brainer when Roy pitched that one!”

Roy was delighted to be able to write for David Tennant, a fellow Scotsman, as well as Donna.

He admits it was: “Hugely exciting. They’re one of my Doctor Who dream teams, really. The Doctor and Donna are best friends, they’re fast and funny, they wind each other up but most importantly they make each other stronger and better. Their dialogue was a joy to write – and yes please, if the opportunity ever comes up, I absolutely want to do more!”

Roy travelled from his Edinburgh home to attend the recording at Moat Studios in London, and has plenty of happy memories from the sessions.

Roy adds: “Oh, loads! David asking, ‘Is that a Scottish accent?’ as soon as he met me – and then me kind of over-explaining where I’m from (sorry, David...). Catherine cracking up over her lines about ‘bad air’ and cheese and onion crisps… How quickly all the big, exciting scenes flew by in the recording booths.

“Stephen Critchlow talking over lunch about the classic Who he’d been watching with his daughter. Lauren Cornelius telling me she’d loved her character and the story so much that when she got the script she read it from cover to cover then immediately turned it over and read it again! Theo Stevenson saying he’d watched David Tennant’s Doctor when he was about 10 or 12. He was thrilled to be in a Doctor Who – making us all feel ancient!”

Producer David adds: “This story is brilliant! Just a character piece about a group of people lost in the fog and there’s something really nasty out there… David has some terrific speeches, Catherine gets to play out some lovely relationships with the guest characters, and the whole thing feels like it was on TV back in 2008.”

Director Ken Bentley was relieved when recording was complete after three successive days in studio – which Big Finish rarely do.

He explains: “It’s great to know we have a complete box set in the bag! These days availabilities are such that we’re squeezing in recordings as and when we can, sometimes over quite long periods of time. It’s rare to record three days straight and know you’ve got it all, but given the schedule we’re all on it’s a huge relief!”

“The whole thing feels like it was on TV back in 2008.”

– David Richardson

Responsible for music and sound design is Howard Carter, who says: “I’ll usually go through and work out if there are any background or atmosphere tracks that reappear throughout the play, or any individual recurring effects (specific vehicles or weapons, for example). If so I will create these in advance and add them to the project library so they are ready to drag and drop in when I’m working. I’ll record the foley sound as I go and layer up all the relevant backgrounds and effects scene by scene. Once the full play is assembled I’ll send a draft off to the director and move on to the score.

“I will usually spend a couple of days scoring a play although if there’s more time I will always spend longer (I’m a composer by trade!). At this point I know the play well so will have a sense of the mood, style and pacing.

“If I’m working on a completely new play I’ll create a template and start adding instruments and sounds as I see fit in order to start with a completely fresh palette. Every play is different so I don’t have one fixed approach. There are scene breaks which usually need a cue, and there are sometimes musical directions in the script, but otherwise a lot of the process is instinctive. A play may need a lot of music to keep energy levels up and maintain a sense of pace, or it may need the music to really take a background role and just glue certain elements together. Each one is unique.”

– VORTEX Magazine, Issue 122, Pages 4-8

THE TENTH DOCTOR ADVENTURES VOLUME THREE IS OUT IN MAY ON CD AND DOWNLOAD.

The Tenth Doctor Adventures Volume Three is out in May on CD and Download.

The special edition release comes complete with exclusive production notes, storyboards from Mike Tucker and costume designs from June Hudson.

For full details visit www.bigfinish.com .

(Edited to include Lauren Cornelius’ name in the image description of “The Creeping Death” cover.)

#vortex magazine #big finish #doctor who #the tenth doctor adventures #david tennant #catherine tate #bernard cribbins #jacqueline king #the tenth doctor adventures: volume iii #no place #james goss #one mile down #jenny t colgan #the creeping death #roy gill #becca posts #article #issue 122

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justsomeelf · 5 years

Text

Was Korekiyo Shinguji Innocent?

!tw: lots of abuse topics !!This is very long but there’s a TLDR at the bottom !!!Danganronpa spoilers ahead for V3 (obviously)

Cough oh shit look at that, discourse which no one cares about because I’m irrelevant.

No but seriously, I want to make this perfectly clear before I begin, I am writing this while throwing away my biases and being as open-minded as I always try to be. This is going to be an incredibly long post about what people think about Korekiyo Shinguji, and that reasons for disliking him isn’t as shallow as just disapproving of the actions he took in the game. If you’re interested about what I have to say, click keep reading, if you just want a shorter version of what I meant there’s a TLDR at the bottom.

Oh wow you actually clicked it? Wait, wait, gotta keep this professional. So I’ll be splitting the topics around Korekiyo as; Storyline, Character Design and Personality, Fandom’s Backstory Headcanons, The “Main Problem”, and a Conclusion. Remember, you don’t have to read all of it, there’s still a TLDR at the bottom, but thanks for giving this a chance!

Danganronpa V3 Storyline

We are all aware at this point at what happened in V3 regarding Shingucci, and if you aren’t aware, then why are you reading this-

Throughout the first chapter Korekiyo is mostly just neutral and calm throughout everything, but still a little creepy with a few off hand comments about the beauty of humanity. Similar events happen in Chapter 2, calm, not really bothered by his fellow Ultimates no matter how bizarre some of them are. Rather helpful in the trial but still annoyed by Himiko’s insistence on genuine magic and continues to theorise how she could be the culprit, but was still mostly the same even after seeing Kirumi’s undignified exit and execution at the end of the trial. Chapter 3 rolls around and Angie decides to try and resurrect one of our fallen Ultimates, Kiyo decides to hold a seance to communicate with one of the lost spirits as well, but of course this is just a murder plan in disguise to send his sister more “friends”. Angie accidentally walks in on Kiyo mid-saw-cutting and to make sure she couldn’t tell anyone about his plans later on, he hits her over the head then brings her to her own lab, ends her life, and sets up a lock mechanism to lock the lab with the corpse in it.

He continues his seance plan due to ‘not wanting it to go to waste’, and says the next day they should use it to contact Angie. More stuff happens and Kiyo’s pleased with Tenko being such a good candinate to be his sister’s friend, and proceeds to kill her with the plan he originally set up. (While also setting it up so he could almost perfectly pin it on Himiko.) During the trial he’s as composed as ever but as more clues show him towards him being the culprit to both of the murders, he becomes increasingly more erratic, and the tulpa split personality of his sister appearing to calm him, but he eventually admits to being the culprit. After the trial he confesses his reasoning, the incestuous relationship with his older sister who he swore to send 100 (female) friends to after her sickly passing. Obviously, people were going to be disgusted by the incestuous relationship he had with his older sister, but that’s not always the reason people are going to dislike him in the story.

Korekiyo obviously hadn’t done much in the first two chapters aside from being helpful in the trials, and people don’t particularly like it when characters they like are killed, in Chapter 3 that concerns Angie, Tenko, and Kiyo. Angie was increasingly infuriating towards her demise, with the Student Council and the actions she took for what she wanted with the school, but was still an enjoyable character with her cheery attitude and honestly good intentions. Tenko both is and isn’t quite popular, with her resentment of men (which I won’t get into because that’s another topic entirely) gaining her hate, but her good intentions and wishes for friendship making her a likeable character. Kiyo hadn’t done much to establish his character side from being creepy, calm, and neutral, which doesn’t put much towards liking him if there’s no reason to, that isn’t to say there’s a reason to dislike him, just that there’s not enough events to show him in a highly positive light.

Character Design & Personality

To be perfectly fair, Kiyo’s final design was pretty well made in terms of appearance. By Kodaka taking a combination of multiple sorts of imagery, including underground culture, anthropology, and visual style, made him pleasing to look at aesthetically and in terms of genuine character. People can dislike him but still see his positive points essentially, at least design wise.

His personality is essentially what was previously mentioned, neutral, calm, creepy sometimes, and that’s essentially it. During the third trial he quickly became panicky when it was becoming obvious he had killed both Angie and Tenko (side note: it was extremely obvious he had killed Tenko from the start, Angie was the difficult one) but was calmed down by the ghost of his sister, also claiming he was deeply in love with her with what seemed to be genuine sincerity. There is also the fact that Kiyo felt no guilt for killing all those women to send to his sister, and seemed to consider everyone in the academy his “friends”, indicating he’s unable to understand or care about what other people feel. In the end he finally accepts his defeat and is executed by Monokuma and the later appearance of his sister’s spirit, causing his last expression to be disbelief and horror as both of them banish his spirit to the afterlife. The point of this paragraph is that although I understand why people can like his personality, people are allowed to dislike the kind of person he is by finding him boring, maybe a little annoying, selfish for having no regards for what the other characters felt, and it’s fine, because even if people dislike his personality they can still see why people like his personality.

Fandom’s Backstory Headcanons

Of course to start off with, there’s the canonical backstory of Korekiyo that we were given through FTEs and the storyline. Kiyo had a sickly older sister who almost constantly required to be in the hospital, since she was lonely without friends Kiyo would spend all of his time with her. One day reading a book about Anthropology with his sister who suggested he could research it, motivating him to become an anthropologist. His sister normally picked most things for him, his hair, tailoring his uniform, and so on. According to Korekiyo, he had an incestuous relationship with her, believing it was truly love with no care of what others thought, although at some point his sister died. Left alone and frustrated he swore to kill and send 100 friends to her since she had none in her lifetime, we’re also able to assume he got somewhere close to that number before his death though. (side note: I personally headcanon that Tenko was the 99th “friend”). While travelling he had been captured and tortured by locals, leading him to hallucinate his sister that calmed him down, which also caused him to form a split personality/tulpa.

Since that’s about all the information we were given, of course it left the fandom theorising and wondering about possibilities. There’s the semi-popular headcanon of Kiyo that he was abused by that sister, of course there’s obvious signs of manipulation in their relationship, telling him how to act, dress, talk, what to do and like and so on. The headcanon is also backed up by canon, which essentially does imply he was manipulated and abused by the sister, as he spent so much time with her that she relied on him.

(Personal Experience Ahead, I don’t mind it if you skip) I tried to force myself to like Kiyo. I really did. I thought that with this idea it does explain his actions better than the canon did. But I couldn’t. I was and still am abused by my older sister for a decade now, emotionally/psychologically, verbally, and physically. Now leaving me medically diagnosed with anxiety (social and generalised), depression, and PTSD. While the fandom seems to say Kiyo had been abused psychologically and some add sexually abused. Abuse is a difficult topic to talk about, even bringing it up in this sense has brought back horrible memories from my life, if you do genuine research or know from experience what that abuse like that is like, it’s fine and I wish the best for you. But please do not just slap “abused” on like a label, like it justifies his actions. I said previously it explains it, not justifies. The “Main Problem”

I’m sure some people would be aware this was coming, if you have knowledge of V3′s full game, simply hearing Kiyo’s name will remind you of the third trial.

Korekiyo’s sister. Implied to be abusive, manipulative, constantly sick, dependant on Kiyo, now deceased, and previously in an incestuous relationship with him. The things Kiyo said about her would obviously throw everyone off, incest is quite revolting, so of course people would dislike him after hearing he was in a relationship with his older sister.

But that does not mean it’s the only reason to dislike Korekiyo.

(Intense) Kiyo fans immediately go to hating on and blaming the canon whenever someone says they dislike him, assuming they’re always referring to the sister relationship for their dislike. That is not always going to be the reason. Yes, the presence of the incestuous relationship is problematic if you want people to like Kiyo, but please don’t always assume it’s because of the third chapter. It’s as simple as having an open conversation, not attacking the creators, the character, or the person you’re disagreeing with, then if you can’t reach a conclusion, just agree to disagree and leave it there.

Conclusion I guess

Obviously most of this was just covering what we already knew, but reminding information is normally necessary for things like this. Did I just waste hours of my time writing an essay on a fictional character? Yes. Do I expect everyone to agree? No. Do I mind? No. Was there a reason to make this? Yeah, kinda. I just want to lay it out there that people are entitled to their own opinions, free speech and all that good shit. So people are allowed to decide whether they like Kiyo or not, just don’t hate them or assume and scream that it’s only because of chapter 3 that they dislike him. Everyone can have an opinion, people like Kiyo for their own reasons, people dislike Kiyo for their own reasons, V3 is done and finished. If you’re still unsatisfied you can go ahead and argue with me, I’ll try to stay level headed and hear you out.

TLDR: People can have opinions. Kiyo stans don’t always assume it’s because of the sister that people dislike Kiyo, you can say he’s underrated or overrated it doesn’t matter either way, just don’t shove it down people’s throats. You’re all entitled to your own opinions and ideas, as long as you can reach a conclusion together that doesn’t end in hate it should be fine.

Either way, if you read this far I hope you have a good day/night! Stay hydrated, eat some snacks and all that jazz!

#korekiyo shinguji #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #danganronpa #rant #danganronpa rant #danganronpa korekiyo #tw abuse #discourse #danganronpa discourse #if you have critique feel free to pm or reblog this #while i do personally dislike him I really did try to be unbias #ive just been seeing people yelling that people only dislike him cause chapter 3 #and someone i know personally who can't decide what reason to use to defend a fictional fucking character #just let people have other opinions!#and yes im totally expecting #oh wow some bitch spent hours of her life trying to defend why she dislikes our amazing baby boy character!!! >^<!!!!!!!! replies #i can respect your opinion to like Kiyo #please respect mine

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so-shiny-so-chrome · 5 years

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Witness: Tyellas

Creator name (AO3): Tyellas

Creator name (Tumblr): thebyrchentwigges

Link to creator works *https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/works?fandom_id=51060

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: I’ve been a fan of postapocalyptic scifi since my teens. But it took me until Fury Road to really fall in love with the world of Mad Max. Living Down Under probably helped.

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: For Mad Max, my style varies very much based on the character point of view. Max's terseness is very different from a History Person's verbal rambling. Recurrent themes for me...Some of them tie back to canon, like the fragility of Wasteland technology and the quirkiness of human nature. There's a lot of geology and a consistent thread of land-based spirituality - an Antipodean influence, there.

Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?

A: Most popular overall – Definitely “Gastown Nights.” Max, Furiosa, sexual tension, adventure in a setting with the Wasteland wildness turned up to 11 – what’s not to like? Most fun – Writing fluff is always fun, even if the world’s falling apart around it. “Very Max, Much Wasteland, Such Dog,” my take on Max Gets A Dog, and “If You Give a Pup a Flamethrower” stand out to me. Most difficult – Several of my Miss Giddy stories were harrowing, “Weave a Circle,” “One Way Ride.” At one point writing “Weave a Circle” I glanced in a mirror and was shocked – shocked! – to not be looking at the face of a tattooed 76-year-old.

Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?

A: Gritty as, mate, but always with that glimmer of hope. Because that's how it would be.

Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?

A: I may jot down a story’s core idea, then let it ferment a few months. I might think I’m writing something just for myself, then it will take on a life of its own. When the time is right, I’ll think and plan around it, then do an outline. I like Kurt Vonnegut’s advice that a character in a story should want something, “even if it’s just a glass of water.” A glass of water is a big thing in Mad Max! For a writing environment, I’m very lucky – I have a home office, a desk chair, a desk specially set up for writing. If part of a story is giving me trouble, I’ll treat it like the eye of the storm. I’ll write around it, write down to it – I’ll write everything but that part! Once the frame is in place around the difficult part, that helps.

Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?

A: For Mad Max, Ocker rocker classics from the 70s and 80s. Songs by Goanna, Cold Chisel, Dragon, AC/DC. New Zealander Neil Finn's song "Sinner" always makes me think of Max.

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: Finding time when I have inspiration, and finding inspiration when I find time.

Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?

A: I've grown so, so much as a writer. Descriptions, plot, research. Getting over myself and putting that crazy idea out there - and learning that it was worthwhile if it found one reader. Personally, I decided I would probably survive an apocalypse, which is always good to know.

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: I took the long road around to this one, because it took getting into the Mad Max fandom for it. I'd say I relate the most to...Aunty Entity. She's determined, she's creative, she's femme, and she has excellent taste in henchpeople. Oddly, I've never written about her, for all that I have screeds about Furiosa, the Vuvalini, and the History People. Aunty Entity has aspects of those three. My Furiosa is calculating, fierce, stony, and, after the Fury Road, willing to make terrible decisions for a long-term goal or a greater good. After a mostly Citadel life, she’s used to better living, and both disgusted and horrified/saddened by how others are getting by.

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: All the characters we write about are our shards and our reflections. I do have a draft of a piece for a Self-Insert week that never took off, where I hitch a ride in the Nullarbor desert with some Buzzards.

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: I've written smut, and in my fics both canon characters and OCs get laid and find love. "Citadel Nights" is a novel-length fic about love and sex in the Mad Max apocalypse. But the most enduring relationship in my fics, one that all characters deal with, is...their own one with the Wasteland. That post-apocalyptic world around them. For some it's chaos and ruined dreams. For some it's horror yet opportunity. And for some of them, it's simply how it is. My story quartet "Wasteland, Seize My Bones" delves into this in all kinds of ways.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: For Mad Max, I seek it out and look at it in more detail. Some of it takes some finding. It took me a while to track down the novelization of "Beyond Thunderdome". There were some jaw-dropping interviews with George Miller back in the 80s!

Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?

A: I can't help creating in one defined chronology. That's just how my imagination works. Every Mad Max story of mine fits into a timeline. I've sketched out that timeline over two notebook pages, like the nerd that I am.

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: For Mad Max, I'm usually in line with canon. Mad Max canon itself is so rich, flexible, and berserk that most of the plots and actions I wanted to write fit right in. Like most fan creators, I did make it gayer.

Q: Share some headcanons.

A: Oh, so many! Have three: - Furiosa wears her keys on the left: Max wears his on the right. - There are two popular headcanons around Miss Giddy: long-term Citadel denizen or Wasteland Survivor Having Adventures. I like the second one better. - Immortan Joe and the Bullet Farmer had a thing going on for a while there.

Q: If you work with OCs walk us through your process for creating them. Who are some of your favourites?

A: There are OCs and there are "characters who had three frames in the movie/outtake." Very often I'll create an OC to fulfil a plot moment and then...they're not done...they tap my shoulder with more stories. I have a list of my Mad Max original characters for reference. I need it because I have *forty-nine* of them. Wretches, War Boys, Milking Mothers, Wastelanders, antagonists. My favorite OCs are the ones I've spent the most time writing about - if an OC of mine has a POV story, you know I liked them. Or somebody else did and made a request!

Q: If you create original works, how do those compare to your fan works?

A: My original works seem positively sybaritic compared to my Mad Max fan works!

Q: Who are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?

A: There were all these different creative factions – Maxiosa shippers, War Boy lovers, the Gigadumpster focusing on the villains – having fun. That in itself was inspiring. For a while I was unable to read @sacrificethemtothesquid ’s Length and Breadth of Fury Road. Its gravitational field of influence was that strong for me. And I adored the story “The Bullet Farmer’s Daughter” for its ruthless postapocalyptic extremes. For Max and Furiosa and their particular dynamics and madness, I’m influenced by J.G. Ballard – his compelled postapocalyptic wanderers, his cool, in-charge women. For my History People writing, influences include Margaret Atwood, Ursula Le Guin, and Neal Stephenson’s “Anathem”.

Q: What advice can you give someone who is struggling to make their own works more interesting, compelling, cohesive, etc.?

A: The time you spend planning your project helps bring it to life. Thinking, plotting, outlining, deciding your ending and working up to it. If something seems crazy or self-indulgent, but *feels* real or right, there’s emotional truth and weight behind it. Readers will sense that and respond to it. Write it and see what happens. Thanks to our protagonist of few words, Mad Max writers suffer less from verbosity than other fandoms. Still, keep a sentence 20 words or fewer: keep a paragraph 6 – 8 sentences or fewer. Your reader will stay more engaged with your writing.

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: I'd love to go to Wasteland Weekend sometime, but I live in New Zealand. It's been great to meet up with some fellow Mad Max fans in Australia, and to have Mad Max-like moments when I'm visiting there. Walking down an industrial street, lost, when a gang of masked bikers roar by, disrupting the crows into their own corvid cries...

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project.

A: I've got two Mad Max WIPs that will be done, come hell or high water. I'll share their titles: "In the Heart of the Wasteland Sun" and "A Favourite Has No Friend".

Thank you @thebyrchentwigges

#Mad Max Fandom Creator Spotlight #Mad Max Fandom Spotlight #mad max fanfic author spotlight #mad max fanfic #fury road fanfic #Mad max fandom #fury road fandom #tyellas

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franzieonfilms · 5 years

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Ancient Images: Lost Films and Curses No One Remembers

I have never read a Ramsey Campbell book in my life. Well, until now. I have another one of his books, but I hope it's better than this one.

While this is a movie blog, this is also a novel concerning a (fictional) lost film, so I think it's appropriate to review it here.

Ancient Images takes place in England in 1988. Our heroine is Sandy Allen, a 27-year-old film editor working at a TV station and living with her two adorable kitties. Sandy is friends with an older gay gentleman, Graham Nolan, who is also a gigantic film nerd.

One day, Graham invites Sandy over to his apartment to watch his latest aquisition, a lost Bela Lugosi/Boris Karloff film from 1938 called Tower of Fear. When Sandy goes to Graham's apartment later that night, she finds the apartment a wreck, the film reels missing, and Graham jumping to his death from the building next door.

Things get more aggravating when Sandy has to deal with homophobic cops, snooty passive-aggressive film critics, and a tabloid not leaving a traveller cult called Enoch's Army alone. Sandy eventually gets Graham's notebook from his boyfriend, listing everyone Graham spoke with to track down the film. Sandy first calls Roger Stone, an American film scholar and her love interest.

As Sandy keeps looking through the notebook, she has this feeling that someone, or something, is following and/or watching her. But that's ridiculous because it's just shadows! And the cats are acting weird, but it must be the cat food.

So after the snooty film critic makes fun of Sandy for going after the film and her cats destroy the notebook (then get hit by a truck), Sandy decides to travel the country to track the film down.

That's the first quarter of the book. But I'm gonna spoil the rest here, so here we go!

Ancient Images has problems.

1) The story becomes repetitive for the next 50% of the book. Sandy meets a person, they tell her a nugget of info, she might get a useful item, she drives to a new place. This goes on until she gets to the town of Redfield, where creepy shit actually starts to happen.

2) Some of the exposition is handled weirdly. For example: Sandy goes to talk to a comedy actor named Tommy Hoddle. Hoddle is in a seaside resort town performing in a play. Sandy watches the play, but can't talk to Hoddle after he runs away after seeing something scary. Sandy instead talks to his fellow actors, who Hoddle conviently told the whole story of his history with Tower of Fear after getting too drunk. And the actors remember everything he said verbatim. Just a little too convenient.

By the way, Hoddle jumped off a cliff to his death, so...yeah.

3) The monsters are ignored for way too long. Even when the monsters beat up Roger, to the point where he's hospitalized, everyone just goes "oh huh that's weird must of been an accident". It's not until toward the very end where we finally see them. And we get this description:

I admit, I was giggling way too hard at the plant-man having genetalia.

4) It's kinda judgey. So at one point, Sandy meets a group of fanzine creators who are portrayed as gross weirdos who are obsessed with gore and live in filth. It's implied that fans of splatter and slasher movies are just two steps away from being domestic abusers.

Later, she "shocks" a woman reading a splatter novel by being *frank and up front* about her sex life.

To be fair, it also judges moral guardians, homophobes, xenophobes, and horror comedies, so I guess it's not too awful.

5) The twist from almost nowhere.

Okay, so. We find out that the reason Tower of Fear is lost is because it was critical of a noble family, the Redfields. The Redfields bought the rights to the film and destroyed the negative. As Sandy investigates more, it turns out the town of Redfield, where they reside, is cursed to need a blood sacrifice every 50 years to keep the land fertile. The Redfield family is also cursed to turn into the aformentioned plant monsters when they die. This last bit is revealed in the last couple pages of the book. And there's only one hint that is only in one chapter.

You would think if this is a big swereve, that there would be more building up to it. But because the monsters aren't actually seen until towards the end and we only get one little hint, it just made me go "...what?".

6) It's an idea mish-mash that doesn't entirely come together.

I think Ramsey Campbell wanted to write about a lost film with a curse and about a town with a curse and instead of writing two short stories, decided to combine them. There were times when I thought that the connection between the film and the town was just...coincidental. The film even gets forgotten for chapters on end. I understand what Campbell was trying to do, but it doesn't entirely work.

Good things:

I liked the description of the cringey vampire play and the tension of Sandy's viewing of the film, not knowing what's real and what's in her imagination. The cat death was handled well and Sandy's mourning for them was realistic (as someone who has lost pets over the years). The idea of a cursed town where no one remembers or realizes they're cursed is really good. Cursed lost movies are always a good idea.

Overall: I wish this book could have been better, but it's an unfortunate mess that just doesn't know what it wants. It's 46 chapters, but they're all pretty short, so it's not too long of a read. But I will be putting this in my donation pile.

I have no idea if this book is still in print, as I got my copy at a used book store. But it does have an embossed, die-cut cover, so at least it has that going for it.

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studentsofshield · 5 years

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A Rambling Chronicle of Marvel’s Western Comics

By Vincent Faust - November 27, 2018

Marvel Comics is the most prolific comic book publisher of the Western genre. Despite their near ubiquity in today’s culture with billion dollar box office receipts, even their diehard fans may not know this part of their past.

I may be missing a few scattered things, but by my count Marvel has published 1,192 issues of Western comics through their history. Marvel had published Western stories from their very beginnings with the Masked Raider in 1939′s Marvel (Mystery) Comics 1-12. Though the genre didn't explode until the late 1940s following the war, while superheroes were declining. Timely (Marvel’s name at the time) launched 7 western titles in 1948.

The "Big Three" of Marvel westerns are Kid Colt Outlaw, Rawhide Kid, and Two-Gun Kid. Each lasting an impressive 229, 151, and 136 issues respectively.

The star artist of Kid Colt was Jack Keller. Who drew most of the character's stories from 1953-1967. An impressive run. Some have argued he has the honor of drawing the most individual stories for one specific Marvel character. Many of these books had 3-5 short stories per issue, so I wouldn't argue against that. If we only count full issue stories, I'm not sure who would take that title. Probably Mark Bagley for Spider-Man, combining his lengthy 1990s run on Amazing and his history making 2000s run with Bendis on Ultimate.

In 1960, right before the Fantastic Four, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby reinvented Rawhide Kid. After a publishing hiatus the title was brought back with issue 17. The character was now Jonathan Clay and his costume changed. Over two and a half years, their run was revered as the cream of the crop in a waning genre as their own superheroes began to explode.

As Kirby was needed more and more on the superhero titles selling like hotcakes, a tiny run by Jack Davis followed. Davis was an EC Comics legend who took a pit stop at Marvel before becoming even more of a legend at Mad Magazine. Unfortunately, practically the only classic Marvel Westerns to be reprinted in collections is this span of Rawhide Kid. With issues 17-35 reprinted across two hardcover Marvel Masterworks.

Here is Stan Lee talking to Jack Davis and fellow EC/Mad/minor Marvel contributor Harvey Kurtzman. For Marvel, the legendary Kurtzman did 150 episodes of a one-page filler strip titled Hey Look! from 1946 to 1949.

youtube

Especially as Marvel was finally able to publish more titles, Stan Lee's efforts were being stretched too thin as well. So, Rawhide Kid was handed over to his younger brother Larry Lieber to write and draw. Which he did for almost a decade, to minor acclaim from genre fans. Sounds very reminiscent of the hidden gem Gary Friedrich/Dick Ayers/John Severin run on Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos.

"I don't remember why I wanted to do it, particularly. I think I wanted a little more freedom. I didn't do enough of the superheroes to know whether I'd like them. What I didn't prefer was the style that was developing. It didn't appeal to me. Maybe there was just too much humor in it, or too much something. I remember, at the time, I wanted to make everything serious. I didn't want to give a light tone to it. When I did Rawhide Kid, I wanted people to cry as if they were watching High Noon or something." - Larry Lieber

Lee and Kirby also reinvented Two-Gun Kid for the early 60s, but didn't stick around as long on that one.

Other artists who made a mark on Marvel's western titles include Fred Kida, a notable Golden Age Japanese-American artist known primarily for Airboy. Also Russ Heath, who passed away only recently, and the frequent collaborators John Severin and Dick Ayers. Most of these artists were also prolific in the war genre. The genre is also to thank for the introduction of Herb Trimpe, who would go on to become the definitive Hulk artist.

The true star of the show though was one Joe Maneely. Who Stan considered his best artist before Jack Kirby returned in 1958. The Philadelphia native was skilled and fast, pumping out tons of westerns as well as the Black Knight and Yellow Claw titles, which retroactively tie his work to Marvel continuity. Unlike Kirby, Keller, and Lieber he was not particularly linked to one western title, but his most consistent would be Ringo Kid.

Meanwhile, outside of the genre one of Stan Lee's other top artists was Matt Baker. Considered to be the first African American professional in the field. Also there are reliable reports from friends and family that Baker may have been a gay man. He was one of the primary innovators of the "good girl" art style on Fox Feature Syndicate’s Phantom Lady and countless romance titles. Another milestone was drawing arguably the first graphic novel - It Rhymes with Lust.

Due to some business factors in and out of publisher Martin Goodman’s control, Marvel (at this point known as Atlas Comics) nearly imploded in 1957. The bullpen was completely disbanded, leaving Stan Lee in an empty office. They went from regularly publishing almost 70 titles to only 16. Many of which were filled with inventory stories and reprints as long as Stan could manage not paying freelancers. This situation was further complicated by their new distributor having way too close of a relationship with market share leader National (now DC Comics).

Joe Maneely stepped in front of a train in 1958 at only the age of 32. It may have been a suicide. Matt Baker died of a heart attack in 1959 at 37. As stated above, Jack Kirby comes back to Marvel right around that time and Steve Ditko was quickly growing as an artist. It's tragic how close these two masters were to being on the ground floor of the Marvel Universe as we know it today. What heroes could Maneely and Baker have drawn or created?

The 1970s sees lots of reprints of classic genre comics. An exception is the original title Gunhawks (though an unrelated The Gunhawk title predated it). Though only lasting seven issues, Gunhawks has an interesting distinction. Originally starring Kid Cassidy and Reno Jones, a good ol’ plantation boy and his buddy slave. Who fought willingly for the Confederacy because some Yankees kidnapped his girlfriend. That makes sense... In the sixth issue, Cassidy is shot and killed. The finale was technically retitled to Reno Jones, Gunhawk. Making that 1973 comic book only the second at Marvel to be named after a Black protagonist, following Luke Cage. Black Panther had ongoing adventures, but had taken over the anthology title Jungle Action and wouldn’t get his own series until later. DC lagged behind Marvel in this regard.

In 1979 the western genre at Marvel was basically declared dead, with Rawhide Kid and Kid Colt finally canceled. The latter after over 30 years of continuous publication. Two Gun Kid had been canceled two years earlier. Though for a few years already, almost all of Marvel's westerns (and war books) had been turned into reprint titles.

Of those aforementioned 1,192 issues, 1,146 of them are from 1979 or earlier. Leaving less than 50 across the last 40 years.

A 1980 tryout issue with a new character (and a Frank Miller cover) goes nowhere.

A 1985 miniseries by genre veterans Trimpe and Severin depicts the Rawhide Kid now as a middle aged man, as the West is in its final days. It is kind of depressing.

Backpedaling a bit. As the Marvel superheroes dominate, the western heroes occasionally make crazy guest appearances through the means of time travel. Most notably the Two-Gun Kid becomes an all-but-official member of the Avengers and a close friend of Hawkeye. He gets tied up with time travel generally for years to follow. Later becoming a She-Hulk supporting character and Avengers Initiative leader circa Civil War

With that cover, let's now take another aside to untangle Ghost Rider. Ghost Rider is not originally a Marvel property. The vigilante was created by Gardner Fox (Justice League of America) and Dick Ayers for Magazine Enterprises in 1949 as a horror themed western character. The feature spent time as a backup in Tim Holt and eventually broke out into its own short lived title.

Magazine Enterprises went kapoof alongside the slump in the industry around the implementation of the Comics Code Authority in 1954. The regulation agency set up by industry leaders to avoid government intrusion following moral panic. The over-cautious guidelines severely neutered the crime and horror genres, while superheroes were already dormant, gutting many publishers. The Ghost Rider trademark expired. Marvel picked it up in 1967 for a series drawn by original creator Dick Ayers. Motivated in equal toxic parts by Martin Goodman's obsession with securing trademarks (practically every character Stan Lee created can be traced to an earlier one) and then rising writer Roy Thomas's history nerd leanings.

Obviously the name would be repurposed for the more recognizable Johnny Blaze in 1972. Marvel retroactively renamed Carter Slade as the Phantom Rider. The modern demonic versions of Ghost Rider do rarely touch on western themes. Johnny spent some time as a nomad and Garth Ennis brought in some western connections to expand the GR lore.

The western genre is basically passed over through the whole 1990s.

In 2000, John Ostrander and Leonardo Manco come around for a miniseries integrating all the Marvel western heroes together. Followed by a 2002 sequel. With revelations and deaths. The kind of lore retconning series that tickles the fancy of comic history nerds like yours truly. Ostrander also did Justice League: Incarnations around this time, tracing through the history of the JLA.

2003 comes around and it all that heavy lifting revitalization goes in the toilet. Ron Zimmerman writes a Marvel Max Rawhide Kid series. Zimmerman is some kind of comedy writer and Howard Stern regular. Well, within comics he wrote this and the god awful Ultimate Adventures - the only wholly original Ultimate Universe book, a Batman and Robin parody that was part of the U-Decide bet with Marville and PAD's Captain Marvel.

Marvel Max was a new imprint established in the early 2000s to break away from the aforementioned Comics Code and tell more daring, mature stories. Occasionally this resulted in gold like Jessica Jones. However, most of the time it was cringe inducing dreck.

So what's so bad about Rawhide Kid Max? He's now gay. Umm...OK, as long as it's handled well, maybe? Nope, constant cringey sexual innuendos which border on the protagonist coming off as a sexual predator. Some idiot gave it a sequel years later too.

Since then, we've gotten a bunch of one-shots in 2006, a weird Andy Diggle miniseries in 2012, and then the surprisingly great Marvel 1872 from Gerry Duggan during the patchwork reality crossover event Secret Wars. Which set up the Red Wolf series which was doomed by bad optics surrounding the writer and Marvel's spaghetti on the wall strategy of the time.

One of those 2006 one-shots ended up being legend Marshall Rogers's final published work. He and longtime collaborator Steve Englehart did it while waiting for DC to greenlight Dark Detective III, the second spiritual sequel to their influential 1970s run on Batman.

Here’s hoping we get to see some of these legendary heroes on the trail once more. At the very least we will get another tiny snippet in 2019 with a Gunhawks one-shot being brought back in celebration of Marvel’s 80th anniversary. Written by crime comics duo David and Maria Lapham.

This concludes a rambling chronicle of Marvel's history with the western genre and considerable tangents touching more generally on the history of Marvel and the comic book industry.

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forumofkuka · 6 years

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Vans Warped Tour 2018: My Amazing First & Unfortunate Last

When I discovered my love for the emo subculture during the summer after 7th grade, I began expanding and refining my taste in both fashion and music. Spending countless hours on Tumblr - discovering new artists and designers - I eventually came across the epitome of emo/punk celebrations: Vans Warped Tour. As a nationally-touring, all-day rock & roll/punk/metal festival, Warped Tour became the unofficial holiday for all those who identified as “alternative,” almost like a family reunion. Each date of Warped Tour across the United States was a unique opportunity for all the surrounding scene queens, metalheads, and pop punk kids to come together, an event that truly seems like the only one of its kind. Here, dozens of bands/artists come together, perform sets on various stages scattered around the arena, sell their merchandise at (sometimes discounted) prices, and host meet & greets/signings for their fans to attend. Additionally, in the midst of all the music, alternative clothing brands, charity organizations, and local food trucks offer all kinds of products, some you buy and others you can win! Warped Tour is an opportunity for devoted fans to see many of their favorite artists take the stage, as well as discover new ones.

Ever since I discovered Warped Tour, I’ve wanted to attend; every summer, they make a stop in my state, in a city that is barely 20 minutes from my house, yet I’ve never been able to go because the festival always seemed to fall on my mother’s birthday or a vacation outside of the country. Finally, as I’ve graduated high school, Vans announces that 2018 will be the final year for a cross-country Warped Tour. Seeing the heightened stakes, I knew that this was the year I had to go, no matter what; fortunately enough, my local date fell three days after my mom’s birthday, and with a couple of friends, we bought a 4-ticket pack and planned our attendance!

Although it has become less prevalent in my day-to-day demeanor and appearance, my love for alternative music and edgier style hasn’t faltered. Sure, I’ve given away many of my Hot Topic graphic tees and lessened the black makeup, but if anything, I’m listening to post-hardcore, newcore, hard rock, and pop punk even more. Warped Tour encouraged me to step outside of my usual and to finally listen to iconic groups that I’ve neglected to give a chance in the past. Their names were very familiar in my head, but when it came to their actual music, I was clueless.

Two weeks before my mid-July date, I decided to create a collaborative Spotify playlist, where my friends and I (mostly me haha) added our favorite bops from artists that we knew we HAD to try and see. Through personal exploration, I finally listened to Tonight Alive’s latest album, Underworld, and absolutely fell in love. I wish I had given them a chance earlier! Although I didn’t end up sticking around until their set, I know now that I have a new band to keep up with and to hopefully get to see live in the future.

In addition to ‘studying’ for Warped, I spent a couple of weeks coming up with the ultimate outfit. Because I don’t get decked out in checkered patterns, fishnets, and band tees on a regular basis, I wanted to go all out for this festival, even more so because I’d be surrounded by people who were going to do the exact same!

When we finally arrived, July 15th, 2018, at Xfinity Theatre, I felt almost euphoric. I don’t think my friends or I could describe to you how smiley I was. Because of crazy traffic, we walked a little over half a mile to the actual entrance. As much as I’m super proud of being an emo, I didn’t hold back from laughing with my friends at how stereotypical or cringey some of our fellow concertgoers were - I mean, come on, alternative kids are usually outcasts for a reason and I’m not going to deny that we’re usually freaks LOL, I know I am! It was so so so hot outside, but there were many opportunities to affordably stay hydrated, since Vans Warped Tour hosted a large, FREE hydration station right by the Journey Stage and the entrance. At most concerts, any beverages - alcoholic or not - are never complimentary, and so I think this anomaly only shows the care and consideration the creators of Warped Tour have for its fans and attendees.

I felt so in my element. For years, I had only ever had a handful of friends who only moderately shared an interest in this subculture, but it was never to the same extent as I did. Being at Warped Tour finally gave me a chance to feel free, an opportunity for me to not have to tone down or hide this actual part of my identity. Looking back, I’m happy with how it went. We ended up splitting up in pairs for parts of the day, but I was able to watch or listen as I walked around to the sets of almost a dozen bands: Doll Skin, Issues, Real Friends, Unearth, Wage War, The Amity Affliction, The Story Untold, Northlane, Ice Nine Kills, Crown the Empire. Although I didn’t watch all of them fully, and there were various others I had wanted to see, it was so much fun to get a taste of different styles of music, ranging from pop-punk to metalcore, and to also see the vibes of the crowds. Never in my life, have I seen so much dust in the air from crowd-surfing, headbanging, and mosh-pitting. It was amazing, and with concerts already being such a euphoric and almost spiritual experience for me, I loved it even more.

Out of all four of us, I’m definitely the one in the group who is more extroverted, aggressive, eccentric, and just overall “out there.” I almost ran away from the group at times, as I would walk ahead of the group, looking around, and was the only one who seemed to be able to beeline through the crowds.

Rather than spending ridiculous amounts on junk food, I was able to bring in half a dozen, packaged mini cucumbers, and surprisingly didn’t get them confiscated. Although it was a strange snack to bring, it worked out pretty well as an addition hydration boost!

Instead of droning on about the minute-to-minute occurrences of the day, I’ll summarize some highlights.

One of the funnier moments of the day was unexpectedly walking by a faculty member from high school, decked out in all black with his swoopy, punk-styled ginger hair. I had no idea he was into this kind of scene, but seconds after we walked by, a set ended and he quickly left. While I don’t know if he walked away because he saw that we had seen him, it was such a surprise that the one familiar person we’d see that day, wasn’t a student but someone who had worked in the IT department at our high school.

Another moment was when I was buying an Official Vans Warped Tour T-Shirt, and a girl came up to me, in order to compliment me on my outfit. To be honest, she wasn’t the only one to praise me for my checkered overalls, blue barlot crop top, fishnets, and dark gray Doc Martens. I even received a free sticker from a vendor for my overalls! I felt so warm inside, seeing others appreciate these stylistic choices that I had very much been excited about displaying! What stood out to me about this moment with this girl, in particular, was that she had actually tried complimenting me from her car, as my friends and I were walking to the venue, but I hadn’t heard her! The fact she came across me and went up to me, just to tell me, was so sweet <3

To continue on this train of highlights, although I had went into Warped Tour, not planning on getting anything signed or waiting in line for a meet & greet, I ended up meeting The Story Untold and getting all of their signatures on my phone case! Before Warped Tour, I had definitely seen their name around the internet, knowing they were a pop-punk band. Nonetheless, I had never listened to them before and didn’t get a chance to before the festival. When we were walking around the different stands, partly to see what’s there, partly to kill time until Ice Nine Kills was set to take the stage at 4:00pm, we decided to take refuge by the Fueled by Ramen stand and reapply sunscreen in the shade of the tent. While standing there, we had overheard a really good set by this pop-punk band that turned out to be The Story Untold. Hearing how good they had sounded, we decided to get closer and become more a part of the crowd. After jamming out to their songs, “History” and “Delete,” they had announced that they were going to their nearby stand for a meet & greet shortly after. Seeing as we had loved their set and weren’t planning on going elsewhere for the next hour, we quickly ran to their stand and managed to be within a dozen people from the very front of the line. When watching their set, their lead singer vaguely reminded me of All Time Low’s Alex Gaskarth, in both appearance and sound. In between songs, he mentioned something about the group being French-Canadian, with the drummer, Johnathan Landry, having horrible English, as a part of a bit that continued on. While waiting in line, I kept thinking about why these two thoughts felt familiar, until I realized that the lead singer was Janick Thibault. Back in 2016, I remember watching a few of his All Time Low/Green Day covers on Youtube, at a time when I don’t think he was in the band. The world truly works in mysterious ways. I hadn’t thought about him since, and so it was crazy that we happened to be chilling by the Owly.fm stage, right when they were in the middle of their performance.

Aside from The Story Untold, my favorite set was by Ice Nine Kills, a band that was in my Top Three to see for the day. Besides being basically in love with Spencer Charnas, I absolutely loved their performance. In addition to sounding great, they really took their theatrical sound to the next level by having everyone in the band dress up as iconic and classic horror movie serial killers, such as Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th) and Freddie Krueger (Nightmare on Elm Street). Having probably something to do with their two latest singles, “The American Nightmare” and “Thank God It’s Friday,” it was really fun to watch, and their music completely encouraged an awesome moshpit (that I watched from afar) and a ton of head-banging.

The one downside of the day was having to leave 3 hours or so earlier than I had planned. Of course, it was mildly expected, but that’s part of going in a group, you make compromises, and with some friends not feeling well periodically throughout the day, it was my turn to sacrifice, especially since out of everyone, I was able to see the most artists on my list. Although it was advertised as the last cross-country tour, I know my friends and I - as well as many others - hope that that simply means that Vans Warped Tour might be a regional event, with separate tours on the East and West Coast. Warped Tour was a true moment of liberation for me and I will forever remember July 18th, 2018 as a peak of not only my 2018 summer, but my 2018 year as well.

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girlfromthesilentplanet-blog · 7 years

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Morningstar: A FBAWTFT Fan-Fic Prologue

To My Native American Mutuals/Betareaders/Translators

Thank you for collaborating with me, and helping me to write this fic. Thank you for your time, your effort, and your patience with me. I love you.

@istamaza

@unwarie

@young-soul-rebel

@trails-of-tears

@baapi-makwa

@chiefladybirdart

@apachefangirl1

To My HP/FBAWTFT Universe Consultant

Thanks for weaning me off my addiction to the Oxford Comma, and for answering all the questions about the HP universe I didn’t know I had.

@asktina

pottermore.com

To My Fellow White People,

As some of you know, I’ve been working on a Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts fan fiction over the course of the past few weeks. This fic is the product of a collaboration between me, and several mutuals who are members of the Native American community on tumblr. I started writing it because after JK began expanding the HP universe into the US, I (like many others) noticed she’d used a lot of lore from Native American cultures, but had included almost no NA characters. While all this was still unfolding, one of my [white] friends irl said that: “this [JKs appropriation] is why writers should only write about white characters. It’s just less of a hassle.”

I didn’t respond for 30 seconds because...you guys probably know why.

So, anyway, I was partially motivated to write and post this fic as a giant “FUCK YOU” to my [former] friend. I was also motivated by the fact that, in the wake of 400 years of NA oppression (more specifically the revival of DAPL by Lord Dampnut), there shouldn’t be any questions about whether or not we “want” stories about NA characters. We NEED stories about NA characters; and to create them, we shouldn’t feel self-conscious about asking NA writers and artists for help. It’s not our culture. Most of us have never been within 10 miles of a reservation. We never learned about NA history or culture outside of the movie Pocahontas. We can still write good NA characters. We just have to do our homework. I hope this fic helps teach some of my fellow creators/writers how to do that.

Without further ado, here is the Prologue to my fic.

[Content Warning: Aurors being Assholes, Illegal Pipelines, Imperius Curse, Badass Centenarians]

When the Man Comes Around

And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder... and I looked, and behold, a pale horse; And the name of him who rode it was death; And hell followed with him.

-The Book of Revelation

They traveled together under cover of nightfall; about a dozen of them. All experienced aurors, wands drawn, walking through the wild South Dakota winter.

Their leader was a young man by the name of Jensen. He’d been an auror for more than a decade. He was about 30 years old, tall, with blonde hair and stony grey eyes that now scanned the snowy horizon around them.

As the aurors walked into the No-Maj camp, a lone figure hobbled over. An old man with a winter coat and long greying hair, looked at them with dark eyes.

“Hello, can I help you?” he asked.

The Aurors looked at Jensen, who seemed unfazed. He looked somewhat contemptuously at the No-Maj standing before them.

“We are looking for Azubah Wakina, also known as Ten-Wands.”

The old man’s face shifted into a suspicious expression. “What do you want with the Akicita1? Are you from the government? This is a place of prayer. You people aren’t welcome.”

Several aurors raised their wands, but Jensen stopped them and addressed the elder.

“What can we offer you?” he asked.

The elder grimaced in disgust. “Are you trying to bribe me? I’m sorry young man, you’ll have to take your search elsewhere.” He turned and began to walk away from the aurors.

Jensen raised his wand. “Imperio.”

The elder froze. His face went blank.

“Show us where Ten Wands is,” said Jensen, coldly.

The Elder turned around, and shuffled forward out of the camp. The aurors followed.

Up on a hill, overlooking the rest of the camp, was a tipi.

Jensen motioned to the other Aurors. “Chaput, Boot, you come with me. Everyone else, surround the tent, draw your wands, be ready for my signal.”

Chaput took the Elder gently by the arm and pointed his wand at the old man’s neck. The three aurors entered the tent, Jensen at the front, then Boot, and Chaput with the Elder bringing up the rear.

A white-haired woman sat in front of the fire. Several eagle tail feathers hung from a braid down her back. Eleven wands were showcased in a stand that hung from the Tipi walls, along with a shield, a spear, and a broomstick that looked as though it had never been used 2.

The woman seemed to sense that someone had entered. She looked up from the fire, and without turning towards the aurors, spoke in Lakota.

“Is something wrong, brother?”

Jensen raised his wand. “Azubah Wakina, also known as Ten Wands?”

The woman turned to them and smiled slightly. “Hello, how sweet of you to visit an old woman like me.”

Boot raised his wand, his hand shaking. “Stay back.”

The old woman rose from her seat. She seemed slightly amused at Boot’s fearfulness.

“Before you take me away to face your congress, may I ask how you found me?”

Jensen motioned to Chaput, who pushed the elder forward. The elder’s eyes were glassy, and he looked confused and dazed.

Azubah’s face fell into a look of horror. Jensen smiled.

“Azubah Wakina, You’re under arrest for violating the International Statute of Secrecy. Any resistance on your part will be warrent a death sentance. Do you understand?”

Azubah ignored him, walking forward, and steadying the elder with one hand on his shoulder. She then looked past him at the aurors, her black eyes blazing.

“Do any of you have any shame for what you have done?”

The fire in the tipi suddenly dimmed. For the first time, Jensen’s face fell into a look of apprehension. Boot looked utterly terrified.

“S-stay back,” he stammered.

Azubah looked at him, and smiled. Suddenly, the fire in the tipi went out. There was a creaking and a great roar. The Tipi was ripped off it’s hinges, and immediately disappeared into the winter wind.

Multiple flashes of light exploded into the snowy air.

“STUPEFY”

“EXPELLIARMUS”

Several aurors screamed as a crack rang out.

In the thick falling snow and the mercilessly chilly wind, none of the aurors could see.

“WHERE IS SHE?” shouted Chaput, before he doubled over, hit by a stunning spell in the stomach.

Jensen lowered his wand. He knew that No-Maj from the camp would be arriving soon to investigate the noise. Azubah Wakina was gone, and the elder was nowhere in sight.

“FALL BACK!” he shouted, his words ripped away by the wind roaring over the plain.

Back at the camp, there was another crack. An elder suddenly appeared in front of the hospital tent, dazed, cold, and confused. Clutched in his hand was the eagle feather that had hung from the old woman’s braid.

Hundreds of miles away, in a log cabin in Arizona’s Mogollon Rim, retired Auror Misko Stone was sleeping in front of a typewriter. It was about 2:00 in the morning. In the cabin’s large stone fireplace, several large embers glowed.

All of a sudden, there was a crack. Misko started awake, his wand drawn. Standing in front of the fire was a white haired woman, covered in snow.

Misko lowered his wand in shock.

“...Akicita? What—”

Azubah smiled, “Hello, young one. how are you?”

Misko was utterly taken aback. “I’m well, I...wasn’t expecting…” his voice dropped off.

Azubah smiled a toothless smile, “Of course you weren’t. How is your story?” She looked past Misko at the typewriter on the desk. Misko looked at the blank piece of paper in the machine and sighed.

“It’s going...fine. I’m supposed to be compiling an outline for Kanuna. She’s more of a storyteller, and her memory is better than mine in my age.”

Azubah looked completely unimpressed. Misko sensed her disdain and changed the subject.

“So, what brings you this far southwest?”

Azubah gave him a piercing glance, “I’m almost a hundred and fifty years old, boy, I think I’ve earned the right to come and go where I please.”

Misko smiled. “True,” he said. He suddenly glanced down at the pile of newspapers sitting by the fire. “Have you been reading the No-Maj newspapers recently?”

Azubah shook her head. “Why would I? It’s all on their machines now. Can’t stand it.”

Misko looked troubled. “They’ve been writing about this...pipeline...in the Dakotas.”

“They want to build a black snake through which they can transport poison across our land; across our waterways. The No-Maj government has stepped in using ice water and hot lead. I’ve been...monitoring things.”

Misko chuckled. “MACUSA must love that. Why are you here now?”

Azubah paused. The chaos, horror, and cold of the skirmish at Standing Rock suddenly washed over her. She was exhausted.

Misko seemed to sense this. “Akicita?”

Azubah pressed a hand to her forehead. “Is there a place I can sit?” she asked.

Misko jumped out of his seat. “Of course,” he pulled a chair from beside the fireplace. Azubah collapsed into it. Misko grabbed his wand. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Cocoa? Giggle Water?”

Azubah winced. “Anything but Giggle Water, it makes my head spin.”

Misko waved his wand. The iron stove in the corner lit itself, and a kettle full of water floated down from a shelf and situated itself over the flame. With another flick of Misko’s wand, a blanket from another seat by the fire unfolded itself, and wrapped itself around Azubah’s shoulders.

Misko turned back to Azubah. “We should get you out of your wet clothes. I know Joel has some extra things in the bedroom, I’m just worried they might be a little big.”

“That’s fine, Misko. Thank you.” Azubah murmured.

Misko ran into the small bedroom that sat adjacent to the living room and began to rifle through a chest of drawers. In the queen size bed in the corner of the room, another man, about Misko’s age, stirred. His hair was long and grey, his face was covered in scars, and his nose looked as though it had been broken at some point in the past.

“Misko? What’appening?” said the man, sleepily.

“It’s the Akicita, don’t worry.” muttered Misko, and then he paused. “Joel, where do you keep your flannel again?”

“Top drawer,” said Joel. “Did you say the Akicita was here?” he opened his eyes, “What happened?”

Misko nodded. “Yea, she arrived about 15 minutes ago. She’s in a pretty bad way, I don’t know what happened yet. She’s in the living room.”

Joel roused himself, and climbed out of bed. Misko followed him, a pair of flannel pajamas in his arms.

When Misko and Joel entered the living room, Azubah was still sitting by the fire, wrapped in a blanket, with a weary look on her face. Joel raised his hand.

“Hau Akicita, mačhante čhetetanhan 3.” he said, greeting Azubah in Lakota.

Azubah smiled, “I knew I could count on a proper welcome from my southern brother.” She looked at the two men apologetically, “I’m sorry to bother you so late.”

Misko shook his head. “Don’t be silly, I got you some clothes from the bedroom.”

Azubah chuckled, “That’s very sweet of you, Misko. You really have mellowed in your old age, even if your memory has waned as much as you say.”

Misko opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it. He bit his tongue. Azubah chuckled.

Joel pulled up a chair and sat across from the old woman. “We’ve been following what’s been happening at Standing Rock. MACUSA released a statement a few days ago saying that Wizards weren’t allowed to interfere.”

Azubah let out a low, bitter laugh. “That sounds about right.”

Joel gave a tight smile. “Kanuna sent us an owl last week. Apparently, they’re watching her house. She’s gone to Tulsa to lie low for a while.”

Misko turned towards the fire, placing the flannels on the mantle. “I don’t understand why they would do this. Why now?”

Azubah looked at him, her brow furrowed, “Misko Awasajiw4 Stone, what I want to know is why you would be surprised by any of this.”

Misko stared defeatedly into the fire. “I thought things had changed, after everything we did...”

“Then your wishful thinking has blinded you.” snapped Azubah.

Joel rose from his seat, took the flannels from the mantle, and handed them to Azubah. In his right hand, he clutched his wand.

“Should I cast a fidelius charm?” he asked.

Azubah nodded, “Thank you, Joel.”

Before Joel left, he took Misko by the arm.

“Hey.” he whispered, gently.

Misko looked up at Joel. “Yea?”

“You’re the secret keeper,” said Joel.

“Okay,” murmured Misko.

As soon as Joel had exited the cabin armed with his wand, Misko walked slowly back to his desk and slumped into his chair.

Azubah looked back at the fire, wringing out her wet hair.

“Akicita?” murmured Misko.

Azubah looked back at him. “Yes, child?”

“Does it ever end? Ever?”

Azubah looked back towards the fire. “No,” she said, “and it makes remembering the past all the more important.”

There was a pause. The fire crackled. Shadows flickered on the ceiling, and Azubah sighed.

“When Tunkasila 5 called men out of the Black Hills, do you know what he gave them as their first gift? He told them the story of the world that came before them. He assured them that all would be well if they lived in harmony with the earth and with each other. But people are stupid. If they hear something they don’t like, then they do not listen. Both No-Maj and Wizards do this, as do white men, black men, and Indians.” 6 She paused. “Tunkasila is not here to tell us what we need to hear. So it’s up to us now.” She looked past Misko at the typewriter on the desk. “It is up to you, Misko.”

Misko looked down from the ceiling at the typewriter sitting in front of him.

Azubah quietly got up, took the flannels from the fireplace mantle and went to the bedroom to change. Misko barely noticed, just as he didn’t notice when Joel came in after casting the Fidelius charm and shuffled back to bed.

The fire flickered, the shadows danced on the walls, and the only noise punctuating the silence of the night was the sound of Miskos fingers pounding the typewriter keys.

1. Akicita is a Lakota title meaning 'Warrior' or 'Veteran'

2. Broomsticks are a European Wizarding invention, and Native American students are usually taught to use them at Ilvermorny. Ten Wands is a Native American Witch who never went to Ilvermorny. Most of the magic she uses (with the exception of a handful of European-style spells) was developed by her own tribe. Most of these spells can be cast without a wand. Ten Wands won her broomstick in a fight in the early 2000s, but has never learned how to use it.

3. Hau Akicita, mačhante čhetetanhan. --> “Hello Warrior, I greet you from my heart” translated using @istamaza‘s English-Lakota Dictionary.

4. Misko’s middle name, “Awasajiw,” is pronounced [uh-WAH-sa-JOO]. You can find a recording of it here.

5. “Tunkasila” means Grandfather in Lakota. It’s also what many Lakota speakers call God.

6. Thanks @istamaza for telling me this Lakota creation story.

@writingwithcolor @ask-queenie-goldstein @askyoungdumbledore @ask-newton @ask-credence-barebone

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taylorfennersbookishworld · 5 years

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The Saturday Review is back! I know, I need to keep up better with this but my reviews keep piling up instead. What have you been reading lately bookdragons? Escape from Asylum by Madeleine Roux Publisher: HaperCollins Release Date: June 14, 2016 Genre: Young adult, Horror Blurb In this terrifying prequel novel to the New York Times bestselling Asylum series, a teen is wrongfully committed to the Brookline psychiatric hospital and must find a way out—before he becomes the next victim of the evil warden’s experiments. With the page-turning suspense and unsettling found photographs from real asylums that led Publishers Weekly to call Asylum “a strong YA debut,” Escape from Asylum is perfect for fans of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children.The nightmare is just beginning.Ricky Desmond has been through this all before. If he could just get through to his mother, he could convince her that he doesn’t belong at Brookline. From the man who thinks he can fly to the woman who killed her husband, the other patients are nothing like him; all he did was lose his temper just a little bit, just the once. But when Ricky is selected by the sinister Warden Crawford for a very special program—a program that the warden claims will not cure him but perfect him—Ricky realizes that he may not be able to wait for his mom a second longer. With the help of a sympathetic nurse and a fellow patient, Ricky needs to escape now.Set long before Dan, Abby, and Jordan ever walked the hallways of the Brookline asylum—back when it was still a functioning psych ward and not a dorm—Escape from Asylum is a mind-bending and scary installment in the Asylum series that can stand on its own for new readers or provide missing puzzle pieces for series fans. Cover: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 The one thing I've consistently liked about this series is the covers. They're eerie and dark and eye-catching. Summary/Tagline: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 “The Nightmare Is Just Beginning." - Yes please, this boasts the set up of a great scare. Unfortunately it didn't deliver for me. Characters: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 The main thing I did like is the diverse characters in this book. Ricky is bisexual and Kay is transgender. I was not expecting that going into this book and I thought the author did both reps justice. Of course we see The Warden in living breathing color instead of memories and hauntings in this one and he's every bit the psychopath he is described as in the other books. Worldbuilding: 🌟🌟🌟 I'm not sure what to give this for worldbuilding. In Escape from Asylum Brookline is still a working mental institution but as for originality it's not far off from I don't know... Shutter Island with less of an isolated setting. This particular book is set in the 60s but did I really feel like it was the 60s? Eh, not really. Other than the medical practices that were banned years and years ago. Story: 🌟 Forget the year and this book is basically Asylum with a different title and different characters with the same lack of personality. I feel like I read this book before and I basically did when I read the original Asylum. Prequels are usually supposed to add something to a series or uncover a hidden truth or connection that the reader won't see coming but I feel this book failed to do that. Overall: 🌟🌟 2 of 5 Stars! My Rating: 🌟🌟 2 of 5 Stars! Teen Titans: Raven by Kami Garcia Published by: DC Ink On: July 2, 2019 Genre: Graphic Novel Blurb: When a tragic accident takes the life of 17-year-old Raven Roth's foster mom--and Raven's memory--she moves to New Orleans to recover and finish her senior year of high school.Starting over isn't easy. Raven remembers everyday stuff like how to solve math equations and make pasta, but she can't remember her favorite song or who she was before the accident. And when impossible things start happening, Raven begins to think it might even be better not to know who she was before.But as she grows closer to her new friends, her foster sister, Max, and Tommy Torres, a guy who accepts her for who she is now, Raven has to decide if she's ready to face what's buried in the past...and the darkness building inside her.From #1 New York Times bestselling author Kami Garcia and first-time graphic novel artist Gabriel Picolo comes this riveting tale of finding the strength to face who you are and learning to trust others--and yourself. Review: Cover: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 I love the cover of this graphic novel and the illustrations inside are really cool. Summary/Tagline: N/A Characters: 🌟🌟🌟 I'm not familiar with who Raven is in the DC world because I'm not usually into comic book stuff but I liked her as a character struggling to remember who she is after losing her memory. I also liked the side characters. Worldbuilding: 🌟🌟🌟 Again, maybe if I was familiar with who this character is I could tell you how closely it works with her backstory, but I don't. I do love anything set in New Orleans though and I thought it was well portrayed. Story: 🌟🌟 I have trouble rating this because the eARC I got from the publisher through Edleweiss was pretty screwed up. One page was chapter one then the next was chapter 18 and it kept jumping like that making it nearly impossible to read. I felt like I was going crazy trying to figure it out. The only reason I can give it 2 stars is because perhaps, if it had been set in the right order, I might have enjoyed it. Overall: 🌟🌟🌟 3 of 5 Stars! My Rating: 🌟🌟🌟 3 of 5 Stars! Aurora Rising by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff Published by: Knopf Books For Young Readers On: May 7, 2019 Genre: YA, Sci-Fi Blurb: From the internationally bestselling authors of THE ILLUMINAE FILES comes an epic new science fiction adventure.The year is 2380, and the graduating cadets of Aurora Academy are being assigned their first missions. Star pupil Tyler Jones is ready to recruit the squad of his dreams, but his own boneheaded heroism sees him stuck with the dregs nobody else in the Academy would touch…A cocky diplomat with a black belt in sarcasmA sociopath scientist with a fondness for shooting her bunkmatesA smart-ass techwiz with the galaxy’s biggest chip on his shoulderAn alien warrior with anger management issuesA tomboy pilot who’s totally not into him, in case you were wonderingAnd Ty’s squad isn’t even his biggest problem—that’d be Aurora Jie-Lin O’Malley, the girl he’s just rescued from interdimensional space. Trapped in cryo-sleep for two centuries, Auri is a girl out of time and out of her depth. But she could be the catalyst that starts a war millions of years in the making, and Tyler’s squad of losers, discipline-cases and misfits might just be the last hope for the entire galaxy.They're not the heroes we deserve. They're just the ones we could find. Nobody panic. Review: Cover: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Oooh Yes! Come to me my prettiness! I like this cover more than the Illuminae Files for sure! I only regret not getting the pink one from Illumicrate! Summary/Tagline: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 “They're not the heroes we deserve. They're just the ones we could find." - I like it! It tells me that there's going to be some humor in this book. Characters: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 I can truly say I loved Squad 312.. with one exception. I couldn't force myself to like Cat. I just couldn't do it. I felt like she let her feelings for Ty cloud her judgment where everything else was concerned. Otherwise I adored the rest of the character; especially Aurora and Kal! And Scarlett and Zila and Ty and Fin. Worldbuilding: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 Aurora Rising is set way before the Illuminae Files so we're dealing with a fresh new world and new species of characters. This world is so vibrant and different and I felt like I could see it so well in my mind. Story: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 I could not put this book down. I started listening to it as an audiobook which I usually listen to before bed but then I started reading from the physical book during the day and before I knew it I was at the end dying for the next book. Overall: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 4.4 of 5 Stars! My Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 4.4 of 5 Stars! Warcross by Marie Lu Published by: G.P. Putnam's Sons Books For Young Readers On: September 12, 2017 Genre: YA, Sci-Fi Blurb: For the millions who log in every day, Warcross isn’t just a game—it’s a way of life. The obsession started ten years ago and its fan base now spans the globe, some eager to escape from reality and others hoping to make a profit. Struggling to make ends meet, teenage hacker Emika Chen works as a bounty hunter, tracking down Warcross players who bet on the game illegally. But the bounty hunting world is a competitive one, and survival has not been easy. To make some quick cash, Emika takes a risk and hacks into the opening game of the international Warcross Championships—only to accidentally glitch herself into the action and become an overnight sensation.Convinced she’s going to be arrested, Emika is shocked when instead she gets a call from the game��s creator, the elusive young billionaire Hideo Tanaka, with an irresistible offer. He needs a spy on the inside of this year’s tournament in order to uncover a security problem . . . and he wants Emika for the job. With no time to lose, Emika’s whisked off to Tokyo and thrust into a world of fame and fortune that she’s only dreamed of. But soon her investigation uncovers a sinister plot, with major consequences for the entire Warcross empire. Review: Cover: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 For a cover this simplistic it is so colorful and eye-grabbing. I love the three dimensional quality to the title. Summary/Tagline: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 “Player. Hunter. Hacker. Pawn." - Yes, Emika Chen ends up being all of these things and I loved watching her arc through all the different jobs and lies she had to tell during this book. Yes she was a player in the Warcross championships, but she's also a spy. Characters: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 Emika is a really cool main character and I love how she got into coding and hacking then got into trouble for trying to right a wrong done to a classmate and how that has shaped who she now is in her late teens. Then there's Hideo Tanaka and his mercurial moods. Is he a shy tech geek? A guy with a tragic past who turned it into a successful career? A villain? A visionary? A madman? Worldbuilding: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 At times I felt like I had stepped into one of my favorite video games as I read about Emika being inside the game. I also liked how the dark-web version of Warcross was described. The worldbuilding as a whole was very unique and I loved it. Story: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 I can't believe it took me this long to read this book! I had started it once before and not given it a chance for some reason but this time I found myself quickly hooked on the story and invested in the characters. I can't wait to read the second book and see how it ends! Overall: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 4.4 of 5 Stars! My Rating: 🌟🌟🌟🌟 4.4 of 5 Stars!

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reomanet · 6 years

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Harlan Ellison (1932-2018)

Click on the above pic to visit our sister site Bear Alley Books Sunday, July 01, 2018 Harlan Ellison (1932-2018) (* This is a longer version of the obituary written for The Guardian which can be found on their website .) To some, Harlan Ellison was the finest short story writer to have emerged from America’s science fiction ghetto in generations. The Los Angeles Times called him “the 20th century Lewis Carroll”. To others he was a self-aggrandising monster. Short (he stood 5’ 5”), abrasive and strongly opinionated, Ellison was intolerant of everyone and everything he saw as stupid and obstinate, often to the point of fanaticism. Letting go was not in his nature. Psycho author Robert Bloch called him “the only living organism I know whose natural habitat is hot water”; to J G Ballard he was “an aggressive and restless extrovert who conducts life at a shout and his fiction at a scream.” Somehow, in between provoking people in their thousands and being pissed off by thousands of others, he managed to author 70 books and some 400 short stories, pen dozens of TV screenplays, edit books and write over 1,000 pieces on movies, television, books and jazz records. In 1967 he wrote “I am desperately afraid I will die before I’ve written all the stories I have in me.” His stories could be whimsical or cruel, playful or painful, sentimental or shocking. He loathed being branded as a “science fiction” author, although a tally of 45 genre awards prove that SF fans held him in high regard. It was a tough love and Ellison refused to have the term anywhere near his books. At a push he called himself a fantasist, working in the field of speculative fiction. In a 1996 interview he said, “I reject all genre labels because if you try to identify things, you begin to exclude a lot … what I write is Hyperactive Magic Realism. I take the received world and I reflect it back through the lens of fantasy, turned slightly so you get a different portrait.” Many stories about his dealings with fans, publishers and fellow writers swirled around Ellison, including but far from limited to: he was supposed to have tossed a fan down a lift shaft at a convention (no); he asked a statuesque blonde “What would you say to a little fuck?”, to which she replied, “Hello, little fuck” (again no, it’s an old joke); that he lasted four hours working for Walt Disney (that one’s true, says Ellison); that, following a telephone argument, he flew from his home in California to the East Coast, went to his tormentors office and punched him (no); or that he mailed, fourth class to make sure it was exceptionally foetid by the time it arrived, a dead gopher to a publisher for refusing his request to revert the rights to one of his books (true, again, says Ellison). Stories about Ellison are countless and fall, roughly equally, into the simplistic categories “What Ellison did for me” or “What Ellison did to me”. In 1993, a long-running dispute between former friends Ellison and Charles Platt allied with animosity between Ellison and publisher Gary Groth resulted in the formation of Enemies of Ellison (later Victims of Ellison), an anonymous group who issued their own newsletter. The Friends of Ellison group was founded soon after. Ellison did not limit his battles to personal feuds. In 1965, he marched in Alabama, to protest Arizona’s failure to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment, an episode written up as ‘March to Montgomery’; he was vocally anti-Vietnam and dedicated his collection Alone Against Tomorrow to the four students shot dead at Kent State University. He was an advocate of gun control and a supporter of human rights organisations. This concern with the social problems and the depth of injustice in the world around him, was reflected in his stories and his short fiction reached a new maturity. “‘Repent, Harlequin!’ said the Ticktockman”, about civil disobedience in a world of rigid conformity, won the Hugo and Nebula awards in 1965, followed by Hugos in 1967 for “I Have No Mouth, And I Must Scream” and 1968 for “The Beast That Shouted Love At The Heart Of The World”; further Nebulas were awarded for “The Deathbird” (which also won the Jupiter Award) in 1973 and “Adrift, Just Off The Islets Of Langerhans” in 1974. In 1977, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction published a special Harlan Ellison issue featuring three new stories and essays by and on Ellison; the lead story, “Jefty Is Five”, won both Hugo and Nebula awards plus the Locus Award (one of 18 Locus wins for Ellison), the British Fantasy Award and his second Jupiter Award. “Paladin Of The Lost Hour” won a Hugo in 1986 and “How Interesting: A Tiny Man” a Nebula in 2011. The Mystery Writers of America have rewarded him twice (“The Whimper of Whipped Dogs”, 1974; “Soft Monkey”, 1988), the Horror Writers of America four times (The Essential Ellison, 1988; Harlan Ellison’s Watching, 1990; “Mefisto in Onyx”, 1994; “Chatting with Anubis”, 1996), and the World Fantasy Award twice, for Angry Candy (1989) and with a lifetime achievement award (1993). Ellison has also received the lifetime achievement award from Horror Writers Association (1996), the Damon Knight Memorial Grand Master Award from the SFWA (2006) and the J. Lloyd Eaton Award (2011). He was inducted into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame in 2011. He received the Silver Pen Award for Journalism from PEN International in 1988 for his column “An Edge In My Voice”, and was honoured by PEN for his continuing commitment to artistic freedom and the battle against censorship in 1990. Ellison’s maturing as a writer coincided with the growth of SF’s ‘New Wave’, championed by Michael Moorcock, J G Ballard and Brian W Aldiss in the British magazine New Worlds . Ellison invited dozens of authors to contribute to an anthology of stories on the cutting edge of the New Wave, resulting in Dangerous Visions (1968), which won a Special Hugo Award, as did the follow-up Again, Dangerous Vision (1972). A third volume, to be called The Last Dangerous Visions , was announced in the introduction of the latter, but never appeared. As late as 2007, Ellison, still sitting on over 80 unpublished contributions, described it as “this giant Sisyphean rock that I have to keep rolling up a hill.” Ellison received the Writers Guild of America Award a record-breaking four times (in 1965, 1967, 1973 and 1987). His awards in other media include awards from the Writers Guild of Canada, the Bradbury Award, the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror Films and the Audio Publishers Association. Ellison’s screenwriting credits included an episode of Star Trek , ‘The City On The Edge Of Forever’, for which he received the Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation and the Writers Guild’s Best Original Teleplay award. The episode is generally considered the high water mark of the original Trek series and a memorable landmark of TV in general. The episode has been a cause of contention on numerous occasions—from spats between Ellison and the show’s creator Gene Roddenberry to a 2009 lawsuit, Ellison suing Paramount for unpaid royalties from spin-offs of the episode. Ellison had, in 1980, sued ABC, claiming their TV series Future Cop was based on a 1970 story he had written in collaboration with Ben Bova. ABC settled. In 1984, Ellison threatened to sue Hemdale, the producers of The Terminator , and distributors Orion saying that director James Cameron had taken ideas from two 1964 episodes of Outer Limits written by Ellison, chiefly ‘Soldier’, an anti-war story about a soldier from the future who knows nothing but war and who is accidentally sent back in time; expanding on his original short story, Ellison added a second enemy soldier who also arrives back in the present. The terms of the settlement meant all future prints included an “acknowledgment to the works of Harlan Ellison” as the film fades into the end credits. Although for many years Ellison was dismissive of computers and the internet, he was not a Luddite. He simply remained faithful to the level of technology that worked for him and continued to use a manual Olympia typewriter, tapping away at 120 words a minute with two fingers. His very first typewriter, a Remington Rand, was sold in 2010 to author Jamie Ford. The website Ellison Webderland was set up in 1995 by Rick Wyatt with Ellison’s blessing, but a lawsuit filed against AOL in April 2000 was widely condemned online. The cause was Ellison discovering that some of his stories were available on Usenet. A 2002 decision in AOL’s favour was partly overturned on appeal in 2004 and AOL subsequently settled. Ellison later embraced the power of the internet, publishing books and e-books through his own harlanellison.com and, in August 2013, starting his own YouTube channel. Never shy of publicity, Ellison performed a number of writing stunts over the years, including writing a story a day whilst sitting in the window of bookstores in Los Angeles, Boston and London’s Charing Cross Road (Words and Music, July 1976) or a hotel lobby during a convention or live on radio. The outspoken writer was the subject of a 2008 documentary, Dreams With Sharp Teeth and played himself in episodes of Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated in 2010 and The Simpsons in 2013. Harlan Jay Ellison was born in Cleveland, Ohio, on 27 May 1934, the son of Louis Laverne Ellison and his wife Serita ( née Rosenthal). Louis, a former singer (My Yiddishe Momma was written for him but made famous by Al Jolson), worked as a dentist, then at his brother-in-law’s jewellery store in Painesville, where his son attended Lathrop Grade School and East High School. Ellison later said that his only achievement at school was a National Scholastic Writing Award for a story he “shamelessly pilfered” from Karel Capek’s “R.U.R.” Being a short, arrogant Jewish kid meant regular beatings – bullying and anti-Semitism being a feature in a number of his autobiographical tales. Ellison was well-read, claiming Joseph Conrad and Immanuel Kant were amongst his boyhood favourites. James Otis Kaler’s 19th Century Tom Tyler; or, Ten Weeks With A Circus inspired him to run away, aged thirteen, to join a carnival. After three months the entire operation was closed down by the police and Ellison spent three days in a cell in Kansas City refusing to give his name. Radio adventurer Captain Midnight , comic books and pulp magazines were the more discernible influence on his early stories, written and illustrated by Ellison aged 15 and published in the children’s column of the Cleveland News in 1949. In May 1949, Ellison’s father died and he moved with his mother to a residential hotel in Cleveland. Ellison’s interest in science fiction pulps led to his co-founding the Cleveland Science Fiction Society; he was the editor and principal writer for the Bulletin of the Cleveland Science Fiction Society which later morphed into Ellison’s own fanzine, Science Fantasy Bulletins (later Dimensions ). In 1953 he attended the World Science Fiction Convention in Philadelphia where he became infamous for describing Isaac Asimov as “a nothing”– an accusation repeated by Asimov but denied by Ellison, who insisted that his expectations of Asimov based on his work led him to blurt out “You aren’t so much.” In September 1953 Ellison entered Ohio State University but was thrown out following an incident with a professor of creative writing who reacted to Ellison’s science fiction stories by angrily dismissing his talents. Ellison’s “Why don’t you go fuck yourself!” response was the final straw in a troubled sixteen months. Ellison had sold a script to EC Comics’ Weird Science and was now determined to write full time. Travelling to New York, he lived at the homes of Lester del Rey and Algis Budrys, writers he had met through his fan activities, before arriving at West 114 Street, an apartment building where Robert Silverberg also lived. Here he collected rejection slips and earned a living working in the Broadway Book Shop in Time Square selling dirty books to tourists. Hal Ellson’s novels of gang life were popular sellers and Ellison decided to go undercover as Phil ‘Cheech’ Beldone and ran with the Barons, a Red Hook district gang, in Brooklyn for ten weeks. The resulting article was sold to Lowdown magazine but while Ellison’s photograph appeared by the article (with the addition of a drawn-in scar on his left cheek), “not one word of what I had written was in the piece.” His first published story, ‘Glowworm’, appeared in Infinity and over the next few months Ellison began selling with increasing regularity. Crestwood were one of his main outlets, Ellison contributing to their crime magazines ( Guilty , Trapped ), science fiction ( Super-Science Fiction ) and men’s magazines ( Mr. , Dude , Gent ). This surge in sales coincided with Ellison’s first marriage, to Charlotte Stein, in early 1956, although Ellison described their relationship as “four years of hell as sustained as the whine of a generator” before they divorced. Ellison wrote a novel, Web of the City , which he sold to Lion Books and completed shortly after being drafted into the Army in March 1957. After training at Fort Benning, Georgia, he was posted to the Public Information Office at Fort Knox, Kentucky, where, as Troop Information NCO, he filled the pages of the weekly post newspaper with articles and reviews. Meanwhile, Web of the City had appeared – as Rumble – from Pyramid (Lion having collapsed) and Ellison sold a collection of short stories, The Deadly Streets , to Ace Books. Ellison’s huge output of up to ten published stories a month shrank dramatically. Ellison would later admit: “[U]p till 1957, I was strictly a money writer who had not yet reached the pinnacle of egomania your humble author now dwells upon . . . But I was drafted into the Army in 1957, and time for writing was at a premium. So I wrote only stories that I wanted to write, not ones I had to write to support myself or a wife or a home.” Released from the Army in April 1959, Ellison took up the invitation of publisher William Hamling to become editor of Rogue. Moving to Evanston, Illinois, Ellison entered a new phase of writing, many of his best stories from this period (“Final Shtick”, “No Game for Children”, “Lady Bug, Lady Bug”) appearing in Rogue. Ellison hired Lenny Bruce and Alfred Bester to write regular columns and give the paper an identity that could have rivaled Playboy . Following his divorce, Ellison entered a self-destructive cycle of partying and short-term relationships while working for a publisher he grew to despise. When one of his parties resulted in Ellison hurling abuse at a stranger who had just smashed a $500 sculpture, Frank M. Robinson, who also worked on Rogue , took him aside and persuaded him to take up writing full time again. Ellison threw everyone out and, taking an idea from an earlier story (“Rock and Roll – and Murder”) began writing Spider Kiss that night. The story of a monstrous rock ‘n’ roll singer, it is often thought to be based on Elvis; rather, Ellison said, it was based on Jerry Lee Lewis. It immediately sold to Knox Burger of Fawcett Gold Medal, the movie rights were picked up by Col. Tom Parker (whether to make or suppress a possible movie is unclear) and Ellison moved back to New York. There he met and married Billie Joyce Sanders, who had a child from a previous marriage. Ellison accepted an editorial job from his former employee and returned to Evanston to edit the Nightstand range of “stiffeners” on the agreement that Hamling also publish a line of mainstream books chosen by Ellison. The latter, Regency Books, published Ellison’s Gentleman Junkie and Memos From Purgatory . The latter told of Ellison’s days as ‘Cheech’ Beldone and, in its second half, how he was falsely denounced as possessing drugs and illegal weapons, arrested and spent a night in New York’s infamous jail, The Tombs. Regency Books also published Robert Bloch, B. Traven, Clarence L. Cooper, Thomas N. Scortia, Algis Budrys, Hal Ellson and Lester del Rey before Ellison decided he had made a terrible mistake returning to work for Hamling. Ellison’s soon-to-be-second-ex-wife wanted to move to the West Coast, The Ellisons returned to New York, where Harlan was able to sell another short story collection, Ellison Wonderland , financed the journey west. Whilst in New York, Dorothy Parker published a review of Gentleman Junkie in Esquire which turned Ellison’s career around, describing Ellison as “a good, clean, honest writer, putting down what he has seen and known, and no sensationalism about it” and his story “Daniel White For The Greater Good” as “without exception the best presentation I have ever seen of present racial conditions in the South and of those who try to alleviate them. I cannot recommend it too vehemently.” TV director James Goldstone took out an option on the story, which helped establish Ellison in Hollywood. Arriving in Los Angeles in January 1962, Ellison found work as a scriptwriter on Ripcord , Burke’s Law , Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea , Outer Limits and Alfred Hitchcock Presents , adapting his own Memos From Purgatory for the latter. His 1964 Outer Limits script “Demon With A Glass Hand” won him his first Writers Guild Award. Although Ellison described himself as “a common day labourer” in Hollywood, he was a man about town, written about by Gay Talese in Esquire and named one of the “most eligible swinging bachelors in Hollywood” by Cosmopolitan Magazine . His movie career, on the other hand, was less successful. The co-written The Oscar (1966) was mauled by critics and whilst some later scripts ( Harlan Ellison’s Movie , I, Robot) have seen book publication, none of Ellison’s screenplays – which include adaptations of Norman Spinrad’s Bug Jack Barron, and many of his own stories, including “Rumble” and “The Whimper of Whipped Dogs” — have made it into production. A Boy And His Dog , based on Ellison’s 1969 Nebula Award-winning novella, has become something of a cult hit. Filmed by L.Q. Jones in 1974, it starred Don Johnson in a post-apocalyptic world where Vic seeks out food and sex with the aid of his telepathic dog, Blood. The film was not welcomed by everyone: Joanna Russ, in Frontier: A Journal of Women’s Studies , said, bluntly, “sending a woman to see A Boy And His Dog is like sending a Jew to a movie that glorifies Dachau”. Ellison subsequently distanced himself from the film’s misogyny and its famous last line – a blackly comical reference to the woman’s poor taste – claiming he had fought to have it removed. Ellison incorporated two additional published stories into a 1989 graphic novel version drawn by Richard Corben: a prequel, ‘Eggsucker’, and sequel ‘Run, Spot, Run’; all three tales are part of a lengthy, unpublished novel. The stories and the unfilmed movie sequel scripted by Ellison were published in 2018 as Blood’s A Rover . Ellison’s fiction output fell in the 1960s but its quality soared. He made no effort at further novels following an attempt to co-write (with Avram Davidson) a mystery novel, Don’t Speak of Rope , which was sold to Gold Medal but abandoned. Ellison’s scriptwriting for television—which included episodes of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. , Star Trek , Cimarron Strip , The Flying Nun and The Young Lawyers —tailed off in the late 1960s as his fiction gained more widespread approval. Ellison worked as a script editor on a series about an occult investigator, The Sixth Sense , and was the creator of The Starlost , a science fiction series produced in Canada. Ellison’s original pilot script, “Phoenix Without Ashes”, won him his third Most Outstanding Teleplay award from the Writers Guild of America; the version filmed, revised by other hands, was a travesty which Ellison had his name removed from and, not for the first time, insisted that ‘Cordwainer Bird’ be substituted. The story was lampooned in The Starcrossed by Ben Bova, a roman á clef wherein Ellison becomes Ron Gabriel and Bill Oxnard is Bova, who was the science advisor on the show. Ellison maintained his contact with film and television through criticism, collected in the books Harlan Ellison’s Watching , The Glass Teat and The Other Glass Teat . He also became a regular columnist for the Los Angeles Free Press (1972-73), Saint Louis Literary Supplement (1976), Future Life (1980-81) and LA Weekly (1982-83), his columns collected in The Harlan Ellison Hornbook and An Edge In My Voice . Ellison also became involved in the revival of The Twilight Zone , receiving his fourth Writers Guild Award for “Paladin Of The Lost Hour” but quitting when CBS censored his adaptation of Donald Westlake’s “Nackles”, a dark Christmas Special about a malevolent Santa that Ellison himself was to direct. Ellison walked. Ellison was also involved in Roger Corman’s unproduced Cutter’s World TV series and was, far more successfully, creative consultant for J. Michael Straczynski’s Babylon 5 , as well as co-writing two episodes and appearing as a Psi Cop. Ellison continued to publish collections of stories but his output over the years has been littered with projects that have fallen by the wayside. Dial 9 to Get Out (a contemporary, partly autobiographical novel first mentioned in 1967), Demon with a Glass Hand (expanding his 1964 Outer Limits story), The Prince of Sleep (a novel expanding his 1970 novella ‘The Region Between’, announced as forthcoming in 1972), The Dark Forces #1: The Salamander Enchantment (due 1975), Rif (due 1976), Shrikes (first announced in 1980) and Nights in the Garden of Trepidation are just a few of the numerous ghost titles announced but never published. An ambitious 20-volume library of Ellison’s work was begun by White Wolf in 1996 but collapsed after only four volumes a year later. Ellison created The Kilimanjaro Corporation in March 1979 to handle all his works and copyrights and he became Harlan Ellison® when Kilimanjaro trademarked his name in 2002. Since 2011, he has self-published a number of titles via harlanellison.com ( Harlan Ellison’s Brain Movies , Harlan 101 , Rough Beasts , Honorable Whoredom at a Penny a Word , 8 in 80 , Again Honorable Whoredom at a Penny a Word and The Last Person to Marry a Duck Lived 300 Years Ago ). His work continues to see publication in a wide number of media. Ellison has produced audio recordings of many of his favourite stories and six volumes of On The Road With Ellison series gathers together some of Ellison’s convention speeches, talks and lectures. Comic strip adaptations of his works include Demon with a Glass Hand by Marshall Rogers (1986), Night and the Enemy by Ken Steacy (1987), Vic and Blood by Richard Corben (1989), Harlan Ellison’s Dream Corridor (1995, 2007) and 7 Against Chaos , a graphic novel based on a 20-year-old film script with art by Paul Chadwick and Ken Steacy, made the New York Times bestseller list (for hardcover graphic novel) in 2013. In 2000, he began producing a weekly series of commentaries for Galaxy Online under the title “Working Without A Net,” also the title for his proposed memoirs, which were sold to a “major publisher” in 2008 and which he described as “three-quarters finished” in 2013. Of all his books, he claimed that he was most proud of Mind Fields , a collection of 33 stories each based on a painting by Polish surrealist Jacek Yerka. He lectured widely at over 300 colleges and universities and was the guest of honour of dozens of conventions. His appearances were, as one would expect, occasionally controversial. In 1969 at the Texas A&M University he referred to the university’s Corps of Cadets as “America’s next generation of Nazis.” In 2006, at the 64th World SF Convention at Anaheim, during the Hugo Awards ceremony, Ellison groped Connie Willis’s breast, an act he described as “unconscionable.” In 1985, Ellison revealed to People Weekly’ s Kristin McMurran that during the period 1978-82 he had suffered from dysphoria, a mood disorder that causes anxiety and depression. In 2011 he was diagnosed with clinical depression and put on a spectrum of medicines. In 2010, Ellison, believing he was suffering from failing health, announced that his Guest of Honor stint at MadCon in Madison, Wisconsin, would be his final convention appearance. Interviewed by Josh Wimmer at that time, he claimed “An old dog senses when it’s his time … I’m not afraid of death … All I want to make sure is that when the paper comes out, it says, ‘Harlan Ellison died in his sleep’… “I have led exactly the life I would wish to lead. I have led the life I guess that everybody in their heart of hearts wants to lead.” For five years, beginning in 2011, Ellison began conducting a series of exhaustive interviews with documentarian Nat Segaloff which formed the basis for A Lit Fuse: The Provocative Life of Harlan Ellison . Ellison died on Thursday, 28 June 2018, aged 84. His death was announced by family friend Christine Valada (widow of Len Wein) who said that he died in his sleep. Following his second divorce, Ellison was married to Lory Patrick in 1966 (divorced within a few months), to Lori Horwitz in 1976 (divorced 1977) and finally to Susan Toth in 1986, who survives him. He is survived by his niece, Lisa Rubin (daughter of his estranged sister, Beverly, whom he saw only once after 1962) and nephew Loren Rabnick. Ellison has said that “immediately on the striking of my passing—or as soon thereafter as conveniently possible—[Susan] is to destroy all of my unfinished stories, burn and stir the ashes of any manuscripts in progress, do the same to any novels-in-progress, flense all notes and snippets, tear out all the pages of my working notebooks and in-progress files and, in short, make it impossible for anyone to ghost-write, collaborate-to-completion, or ‘finish’ anything incomplete at the moment of my death.” Posted by