#but unfortunately i think i'm too young and i grew up on basically none of that shit so :skull:
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i'm in a bit of a john mood atm, so i wanted to write a post about some of the things that i think fanon gets wrong about him. the biggest thing is that imo a lot of people flatten john a ton in considering him the poster child for Homestuck™ as a story, which sucks because i think it should go the opposite way around. he's the prototype kid, yes, but that just means his unique traits have interesting implications for the rest of the story and homestuck's core themes, not that he doesnt have any unique traits to begin with. john informs homestuck of its themes, the story doesn't inform him of his character traits; sburb gives him the kernelsprite, but he & his friends are the ones doing the prototyping.
so, then, what are those character traits? who is john as a person and how does that inform the story as a whole?
TL;DR: if jade's overarching story arc is about the struggle of loneliness & isolation, john's is about the feeling of falling behind your peers, which is why i think his ending the story depressed works so well
trapped in the s(u)burbs
okay, argument: SBURB is clearly pronounced "sss-burb," like suburb but skipping over the first u. when the kids enter the session they are basically trapped in the world of the game until they can beat it and make the new universe -> they are trapped in the s(u)burbs -> they are home, stuck.
this is a weird line of thought but it's kinda interesting to go through the ways that the (human) kids are trapped in their homes, both physically and emotionally. rose is stuck in that she lives seemingly in the middle of fuckin' nowhere surrounded by a forest, dave is stuck in his apartment due to being watched by an abusive parent, and jade, jake, roxy, & dirk are all stuck in the middle of the ocean. john (and jane) however? they're just in the suburbs.
idk how much this cultural context translates to people living in other countries, but john & jane's original neighborhood is the fucking Epitome of modern american suburbia. i cannot emphasize enough just how much i fucking despise neighborhoods like this: sprawling and empty, they are a modern labyrinth to navigate. every single house looks like it was copy and pasted one spot over, the streets are all named the same thing but with slight differences ("Bluejay Road" vs. "Bluejay Lane" vs "Bluebird Court" HELL), driving through them is agony and walking is impossible. my dad pointed out to me one time that every single house looks like it was painted with a different shade of baby shit and he was correct. and this is not even mentioning the people that live there: i don't want to overgeneralize too much, but these houses are usually pretty big and the fact that they're supposed to be a "safer" place to raise kids makes them decently expensive, so these places are generally very white, very upper-middle class, and you can just. Feel It in the air
so this is where john starts his story. the page (A1:82) was one of the first things that caught my eye when reading homestuck originally, even as a dumb little preteen the age of the characters themselves with barely any greater social consciousness. john starts the story fucking around in his room, talking to all of his friends online, and who could ever blame him when it's such an american wasteland outside. not to get too far into my opinions on american architecture, but if you live anywhere in the united states and ESPECIALLY the suburbs you are basically trapped in the house until you can get your license at 16, transportation entirely at the whims of where your parents can/want to drive you. it makes sense, then, that john's aspect is breath and so heavily tied to transportation, a desire to get out and moving and interacting with the world. the sick irony of sburb, imo, is how that desire is later twisted against him.
when john first enters the session, meteors are beginning to destroy the world and the rest of the entire human population of earth. but to a kid for whom the entire world feels so far away and empty, how much does that really matter? especially when your internet friends, the few people you actually care about, are just going to enter the same game and escape along with you. speaking of,
2. social anxiety & internet friends
one thing i really like about the alpha kids is the fact that you can kinda reverse engineer them and their core character traits from the beta kids, which actually still works within the logic of canon if you consider their biological relationships. not only do the alphas and betas share chumhandle initials, but the person they share with is also the person they are most similar to across generational lines:
rose & dirk are both anal retentive motherfuckers + rose's interest in psychology informs dirk's interest in philosophy/old greek dudes, roxy & dave care about their friends to a fault and serve their needs constantly (emotionally vs. practically, maybe; and also maybe are in love with all their friends to some degree or another too?), jane & jade both have ties with their respective universe-iteration's first guardian and are mentally separated from everyone else at the start of their arcs (jane by not believing roxy and jade by getting prospit visions).
imo rose & dirk have the strongest connection and jade & jane the weakest, and each kid is also pretty unique on their own + informed by their more direct familial relationship too, but i think the chumhandle connection is key in understanding how the characters were initially created in terms of basic personalities, likes, dislikes, etc. since it fits with the stacking nature of how homestuck as a whole functions, both as a story and a world.
so: john & jake. i think fandom has actually done a good job with learning how to appreciate jake better in recent years by figuring out just how much of a persona he puts on to hide his intelligence, but since this is a john post, what's really interesting to me is how that might inform the way we view john.
to start, there are some really obvious connections between john & jake that are as clear as jake's first letter to john (A4:1955): both like pretty shitty movies, are allergic to peanuts, and they're practically identical in terms of appearance. what i see as the key connection however, which informs the entirety of homestuck's medium, is their shared social anxiety.
jake is a very socially anxious dude. all of the alphas are characterized by their inability to communicate and navigate interpersonal relationships, but this is especially true for jake, and i think the most obvious evidence for this is in the specific kind of character that he creates for himself. while realistically we know that jake spends most of his time (pre-brobot, at least) watching movies alone in his room, he specifically likes to take on the persona of an adventurous, extroverted action hero, charming and gentlemanly and generally a dumb jock. it's the dumb part that's important here: jake pretends to be a dumbass himbo so that when he fucks up and hurts people when he manipulates them into doing what he wants, he doesn't have to shoulder as much guilt/blame. he plays up being stupid specifically to avoid the agony of people being mad at him, caring way too much about other people's opinions (A6A2:4587). it's why the trickster arc is so painful for him, and also why he is so non-confrontational.
john is also pretty socially anxious, though i think it's a lot more subtle for him since john's upbeat personality isn't entirely a facade in the way that it is for jake. the most obvious evidence for this is again the fact that he only talks to, like, three people online and his dad. despite being 13, none of these kids ever mention jack shit about school or the other members of humanity about to be murdered by meteors from their own game, and i think that's more than just a necessity of the story considering how much homestuck seems to value realism (at least in terms of characters' emotional reactions & arc). john's dad (as pipefan413) clearly knows the neighbors since in the serious business chatting app you can see fedorafreak & the others also talking about escaping meteors, but the existence of any other kids in the neighborhood is unknown, though i would think likely considering john's early arc is set up to be as normal as possible to set up for the crazy bullshit later. (there's also the whole thing about john's peanut allergy + fear of the "peanut gallery" so)
since homestuck tells almost its entire story through the chatlogs of awkward teenagers, this is one key place where i think john's personality informs homestuck: namely, in its focus on isolation, loneliness, and growing up. SPEAKING OF,
3. childhood ignorance
jake isn't dumb, john isn't dumb, but why do so many people think that they are? for jake it's pretty clearly cause he wants it that way, but for john... i think it's cause he kind of. is? but also, he isn't. let me explain:
john often comes across to me as the most 13 year old 13 year old in the cast of homestuck. he's a sweet kid and intelligent enough for his age, but when that age is 13, there's not necessarily a lot there. john has also had the closest (closest. there's still a lot of weird shit there) thing to a Normal™ childhood out of the entire cast of homestuck (and yes that includes jane, she was the heiress to a corporate empire avoiding assassination attempts at 16, please don't call that shit normal), meaning that, in my opinion, a lot of his (lack of) maturity can be attributed to growing up pretty sheltered. where dave and rose had to contend with overt childhood abuse through toxic/neglectful parents, and even jade had to deal with a dog-parent & dead grandpa, john got a dad that actually cared about him.
this is not a bad thing in and of itself, but john being sheltered does mean that by the time they are actually entering the game and interacting with all these other worlds & alien peoples, he is imbued with a certain distinct ignorance of the greater world that becomes a very significant weakness in a story fucking dripping with semi-omniscient narrators that live to make you suffer. and, from the way he scribbles on the walls (A3:1049), this is something john is both aware of and frustrated with, calling himself a FOOL, tying to the tarot card (#1, his role as protagonist), the harlequin thing (clowns & their incredible pull on the meta of homestuck), & his anxieties (feeling ignorant & out of your depth stepping out of childhood into a world much broader and more complex and cruel than you're prepared for)
4. not a homosexual
i think i'm gonna run out of space here, so i'm just gonna copy & paste some hussie commentary here & maybe reblog this w/ some analysis of john & karkat's dynamic/parallels as "leaders" later (and maybe some june thoughts too):
5. successfully saved the world: the hero is depressed
okay, so earlier in part 1 i ended with a question:
but to a kid for whom the entire world feels so far away and empty, how much does that really matter?
i mostly left the answer to this implied earlier since it made more sense for the transition, but i think homestuck proper does give us an answer to this: it does matter! it just isn't until the end of the story, after they've won the game and finished the session, that it really starts to set in the extent of what they've lost.
so this entire post was largely motivated by another post i read earlier, which questioned why john in the snapchat credits didn't just go to live with the crockers. i gave a long ass commentary in the notes on that post, but my conclusion was basically this: john is depressed (!!!) and depression makes you apathetic & lose all motivation to do anything.
i've focused a lot on john's early life and the beginning of the story in this post, which is maybe in part because i've been rereading from the beginning recently, but also because john kind of loses touch with everyone else in the story as soon as he enters the session.
i think this is often read as just being a product of john's classpect, heir of breath. john doesn't just inherit breath when he godtiers, he also becomes it in a very literal sense (can't fucking find the page where he transforms into wind but ugh, whatever), so he when he literally loses touch with the reality of the story after gaining his retcon powers, it follows with the thematic concept of him being breath. this isn't bad, but i think it also goes further, again connecting with that idea that john is basically the "main character" of homestuck, which is actually a very unfortunate title as it means john in particular gets very wrapped up sburb & the story as a whole in a very literal sense. again: retcon powers.
for all my frustrations with the execution of the retcon, i can't deny that it makes a shit ton of sense for john to get those kinds of powers, since his character and position as the starting kid has always been so closely entwined with the story of homestuck as a whole (see: the entire rest of this post). it also ties back to that idea of john being particularly vulnerable as a naive kid in a world of maliciously omniscient characters (e.g. doc scratch, but also vriska/terezi & all of the trolls to some degree), puppetted around by the story and slowly losing all connections with "reality" and the rest of the cast (his friends!!)
you know all those scenes where john starts interacting w/ the shittily-drawn caliborn versions of all his friends? (or this page: (A6I5:6207)) that has always come across as kind of sad to me, because it feels representative of john's (lack of) connections to his friends by that point in the story. he gets so swept up in Plot Bullshit that he basically loses most of the contact he has w/ the people that were his closest friends for years (ik people hate inversion theory but he & karkat really are complementary in some ways), and that loss of connection just exacerbates his previous anxieties about being ignorant. the conversation between him, dave, & karkat on the meteor is really revealing of this (A6A6I5:7487). where dave & karkat & everyone else got three years to sort through their shit together, john was getting dragged off to make the story make sense again, technically completely losing everyone he had known and grown up with. it's not just that dad crocker is different: everyone is different.
(this also has the kind of even more depressing alternate implication that john doesn't even really get the chance to feel that difference outside of jade, since he wasn't able to connect with "his" original dave, rose, etc. in the pre-retcon timeline regardless. great!)
john's depression has always been one of my favorite parts of his character arc tbh, which ig is a weird thing to say, but it just makes so much sense to me as the next step in his story, if not the true conclusion. it's only after winning the game that john really starts to catch up with everyone else in terms of maturity and understanding, and by that point, when everyone already feels so far ahead, how could he possibly catch up? (the answer is that he can, just not alone, but it is that exact feeling of not being able to that makes him isolate in the first place. depression is a fucking shithole)
so much of homestuck is about loneliness, but in turn so much of homestuck is also about social connections, about the people around you that you love and care about and change your life. where karkat is able to heal the connections of the people around him by helping them through their interpersonal relationship bullshit, john gets caught in the wind of the plot and loses his connections, thus losing his ability to really mature as a person at the same rate as everyone else (not to mention how he might've felt behind in the first place). but still, even w/ john's arc ending on a heavy, perhaps unsatisfying note at the end of homestuck proper, i like to think there's still a lot of hope for him: after all, his dearest friends and family are all right there. he just needs to get off his ass and start talking to them.
(sidenote: while editing this part of the post, i suddenly realized just how sad it is that karkat and john talk so goddamn little in all of the post-canon shit. which fucking sucks actually because karkat would be the perfect person to yell at someone until they finally get off their ass and start trying to be a person again, exactly what john needs after the game imho. pumpkin route you are forming in my mind)
uhh anyways, i don't know how good of a job i did at tying this post back to my original goal, but if you read this far, thank you. i have been typing nonstop for like four straight hours (ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᶦʳᵗᵉᵉⁿ ᵐᶦⁿᵘᵗᵉˢˀ) and i think my right ring finger is about to fall off.
bonus: 6. john is hussie???
OKAY, actual finale, this is quick and dumb but this idea comes pretty much entirely from a couple random lines of hussie commentary from a john & dave conversation on (A2:324):
John makes some pretty sassy quips here. I like the "15th day in a row" line, which makes sense since I was the one who actually said it in a real conversation about this.
most people make the connection between hussie & dave (& dirk, i suppose) since dave's sense of humor is basically just unfiltered hussie, but this comment makes me wonder what was put into john too (though i suppose you could consider all fictional characters imbued with some aspect of their author). i'm not super into psychoanalyzing hussie as a person through homestuck itself, but if you're into that, here ya go.
#the one thing this post is missing is the significance of john's movie taste#but unfortunately i think i'm too young and i grew up on basically none of that shit so :skull:#someone else is gonna have to make up for that#hs#astronaut rambles#super long post#wrote this while procrastinating an actual essay are you proud of me#i like john if you couldn't tell i vibe with june a lot#probably cause i kinda physically look like her + peanut allergy lol#and her childhood is vaguely similar..... idk i just get the arc kinda#shoutout to the homestuck wiki btw#saved my ass#i wrote this all in one sitting and now i kinda hate myself for it#fingers hurt#homestuck#john egbert#The John Post#update: edited!
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Gods okay I need to talk about the Stormblood Antagonists for a hot minute. Whatever personal issues I have with how Stormblood is paced or how certain characters are handled, the villains are absolutely fantastic.
If there is one singular theme that ties the main three antagonists (that being, Fordola/Yotsuyu/Zenos) together. It's the idea of the Ouroboros. The snake that is caught in a self-destructive cycle of devouring it's own tail.
Historical in our real world, the Ouroboros has been symbolic of main things, the cycles of life and death, fertility, even immortality. However, it can also been seen in a more negative light as a symbol of perpetuated suffering. Of being unable to let go of something that only end up hurting you more.
And gods doesn't that just sound familiar?
Now I can hear you, in your head saying "But Gengar - Yostuyu and Fordola obviously have those parallels of suffering abuse and becoming abusers themselves, but what the hell are you doing throwing Zenos in there too? He's the abuser." And I get it, I do. Aside from the fact I'm a self-admitted Zenos lover, he doesn't at first glance really fit in with the ladies.
But hear me out okay?
It's not just suffering abuse. It's refusing to let go and allow yourself and your perspective to change, even though your current way of thinking and acting is only making you suffer more.
Yotsuyu was victimised for *years* at the hands of her Aunt/Uncle/Asahi. Then sold off to an (asummedly) abusive husband, and then sold again into prostitution. She was never offered a shred of sympathy or kindness during this time. And when she was given power, given authority and the means to protect herself physically. She choose to return all of the suffering she endured onto the people of Doma. She did not see them as being in the same position as her, suffering under the abuse of the Garlean Empire. She did not offer them any sympathy or kindness of her own, because (in her mind) they had denied that basic decency to her.
Yotsuyu couldn't let go of her hatred until a literal giant wooden beam smacked her on the head and gave her complete amniesia. At which point, she displayed the ability to be kind. To think of others and to try and do nice things for them (Persimmons anyone?). Tsuyu was freed from her self-inflicted cycle of pain. She stopped letting herself be comsumed by her own anger and fear.
Fordola was much the same, though her family at least very clearly cared for her. She grew up in an occupied Ala Mihgo. In a family with supported the Imperial force. Out of genuine agreement with the Empire or as a means of ensuring a sightly better life for themselves we don't really know (as far as I can remember at least). Fordola's suffering, much like Yotsuyu's, came at the hands of her own 'countrymen'. People who (rightly) despised the Empire for it's brutal oppression, but who choose to take it on someone more vulnerable and accessable. A child. A young girl who was given a horrible and sudden lesson on just how cruel people can be. On both sides of the conflict.
Fordola chose to join the Garlean Army in the hopes of amassing power for herself. Of trying desperately to carve out some place of herself and her friends where they felt they actually belonged. Where they would be respected. Unfortunately, she found none of this. The Garleans saw her as a 'savage', the Ala Mihgian's saw her as a tratior.
Like Yotsuyu, Fordola couldn't let go of her desire for revenge. Her desire to "make anyone who ever looked down on (her) pay!". It drove her to extremes to try and hold onto that scrap of power she had managed to gather. The resonant, the Castrum, all of it more teeth biting into her own tail.
So what can Zenos not let go of?
His belief that the only joy he can find in life is from dying in combat. Because let's be honest with ourselves, Zenos has no desire to live here. He wants a meaningful death, a brilliant, climactic, perfect moment and then he wants to not be alive anymore after that. It's why he chooses to kill himself after the Royal Menagiere. You beat him! You gave him his perfect moment! He knows (believes) that there's nothing left for him after this! So he dies.
Zenos is infact suffering. It's just not as clear as Fordola or Yotsuyu. He's miserable. He's perpetually bored, and lethargic, and consumed by apathy. A prison of his own making because he has had tunnel vision since he was like 8? 10? that combat was the only thing capable of making him feel anything. So he chases after it, chases after you (the WOL). Trying to push you and push you like he was until you're capable of giving him what he wants. His perfect, transcendant moment of pure joy, and then death after.
Really what it comes down to is that Fordola, Yotsuyu, and Zenos are stuck in their own self-perpetuated misery. Yotsuyu in her fear of powerlessness, Fordola in her need for revenge, and Zenos in his desperation for meaning.
And none of them can see a way to break their own cycles until it someone outside of it comes in to try and do it for them.
(Gosetsu/Lyse + Arenvald/WOL+Alisaie)
'Ere does the head devour the tail.
#ffxiv#final fantasy xiv#zenos yae galvus#fordola rem lupis#yotsuyu goe brutus#it's important to me as well that Fordola is the only one to full break out of her cycle#the only one to get a meaningful second chance to try and start over again#because Fordola was the only one who knew what kindness and love was before her cycle started#she was the only one who was able to make connections with people#ghostly rambles
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This is messy and started as filling out questions that then slowly turned into just writing a story. I don't have names for almost anyone, but I've been struggling to write, so here, have this.
I inherited a piece of jewelry. It's a ring. It's a dark metal band, or is it stone? She can't quite tell. A larger gemstone that shifts from black to smoky white depending on the light is centered on it. It's an oval shaped gem. To either side of the gem along the band is swirling filigree.
The ring is clearly magical. No ordinary ring would resist description so. I inherited it from a distant aunt. I only met her a few times and it always seemed like my parents wanted her to leave. I feel similarly shunned by my parents. Being queer was always like nettles just under their skin, waiting to prickle them the wrong way and turn their ire on me. I have no proof my aunt was queer too, my parents didn't let us speak much, but holding onto the ring helps me feel less alone.
I grew up around animals. I really wish it wasn't a metaphor. Sure, my father had a dog, but it was his dog, and I wasn't allowed to play with it. Thinking now, I don't even know its gender. That's kind of fucked up. Unfortunately, that's still not what I meant.
Where I grew up, people were always hungry. Hungry for power and standing. My parents tried to steer me to boys of other families they thought would advance their position in their society. The boys went along with it. Why wouldn't they? They benefitted from having quiet, subservient girls handed to them. I was never quiet enough, never compliant enough for their tastes. I always had to be on my guard or they'd simply take what they wanted, like an opportunistic predator picking off the weak.
…Growing up like that sucked. I'm too guarded now, even around people I consider close friends.
My family is extraordinarily wealthy. You don't get that way unless you exploit others. I hate what they do with their money, and the way they hoard it. I'd donate a lot of money away, but I have no access to the money. Father is the only one with access to it, and he gives it out sparingly. Since I'm a disappointment of a daughter, I only receive money when it's absolutely necessary. I've seen my father give suitors more money than I've ever held in my hands. I think I'm close to escaping this hell, but if I'm not careful they'll never give me another chance.
To say I'm stuck in a cult is an understatement. This community is basically a locked down military base miles from the nearest city. Only those in the top echelon leave, and then only if they're male. Everything is shipped in, and while we're not short on space here, I've always felt confined. There seems to only be one road in and out and the rest is surrounded by dense forest.
Only the fact that I'm queer and cause my parents shame gives me any sort of freedom. But I feel that time closing. I've heard them speaking of fixing me. That on my upcoming 20th birthday, they're going to have my suitors 'show' me what I'm missing. They think they can fix me, I think they can fuck off.
It's been hard to plan, but I think I've come up with an escape plan. All this place sees me as is a pretty face and a breeding vat. They see me as a link to my parents' wealth. They don't know me, none of them. Especially not my parents. I don't know how so many people buy into this place, but I want out. They won't allow me to just walk away, so for me, it's do or die. If they catch me…I won't allow them to keep me any longer.
Shit. When did the McMillians have a kid? They're showing her around like a piece of prize cattle. She's got to be only five or so and they've already got adult men looking at her like she's an object at auction. Oh, she looks so scared. I wonder if I can get her out too. I don't know why I'm thinking this. A child that young isn't going to want to be separated from her parents and I don't know how to take care of a kid while we're on the run anyway.
…She won't be safer here, but I can't do it. I'm not capable of saving her. I'm not sure I'm even capable of saving myself.
The night of my escape is upon me faster than I ideally wanted. But if I don't do this now, I'll never escape. I manage to sneak out of the house and across town. The workers at the loading dock are busy bringing in the month's shipment.
Bright lights illuminate the space, but shadows still gather along the walls. I don't plan on being seen, but I've prepared for if I am spotted. Just before leaving the house, I used a stolen knife to slash my hair down to the shortest it's ever been. I've also wrapped my chest and stolen clothes from my father's hamper. They're dirty and rumpled, but I'm hoping that'll sell them as mine if anyone might question why they don't exactly fit.
I crawl through the warehouse space, keeping to the shadows best I can, walking with purpose when I can't. I'm nearly to the shipping vehicles when I feel a tug at the hem of my shirt. I nearly startle right out of my skin as I make eye contact with the world's saddest eyes. It's the McMillians' daughter.
"Are you leaving? Can I come?"
This is the last thing I expected. The last thing I needed. In the distance I see an open office door and vaguely remember Mr. McMillian runs the shipment warehouse. She must have been brought here by her parents and she saw me crossing the warehouse.
I cough and put on a gruff voice that I'm wishing I'd practiced more now.
"I'm going with the shipping vehicles, yes. But you should run along back to your daddy." I crouch and make a shooing motion. Her eyebrows drop comically into a glare.
"I know who you are. My daddy talks about the disgr-, disgra-, bad girl no one in town likes. He pointed you out to me once and told me not to be like you. But you're leaving now and I want to come with you. Daddy's been preparing me for my future, he says. It hurts though, and mommy doesn't do anything about it and I hate it! Please don't leave me here!"
I wasn't expecting such a rant from this pintsize. I quickly shush her, looking around for anyeone who might notice us. We're currently alone in some dark shadow, but I can hear the vehicles starting and know I'm running out of time. I stand and half turn toward the vehicles. She lets out a harrumph.
"IF you don't take me with you, I'll tell on you and you won't leave either."
Crap.
"Fine, fine, fine! But we've got to go, now. No time for goodbyes."
"That's okay. I don't want to say goodbye."
She looks resolute. I shake my head at the life we've lived that she's already so eager to escape. But I can't fault her. Her father sounds like a real piece of shit. I hope I can get us both out of here safely.
I take the bag off my back and flip it around to rest on my chest before crouching back down and offering her a ride.
"We've really got to go, and I don't think you're fast enough, so just hold on and stay quiet. I'll get us out of here."
She nods in reply and I start running. Stealth is less of an option now, with the vehicles beginning to move. The vehicles have a loud engine and the warehouse echoes that noise all over, but I still flinch at every odd sound. There are two men standing at the loading dock watching the vehicles leave. I need to get past them, but they don't look like they're leaving. I whisper up to the McMillian girl.
"Close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you to, okay?"
I feel her nod. I creep behind the men as quickly as I dare. I slide the knife from my pants pocket. I hoped I would be able to get out without violence, but I don't think I have a choice anymore.
With the sound of the vehicles drowning out my footsteps, I step up behind the closest man, grab him by the chin and plunge the knife into his throat. He gurgles and blood covers my hands. I start to shudder at the feeling, but jolt when the other man grabs my arm. I cry out and try to throw him off, but he's much stronger than me. He wrenches the knife from my grip and pushes me out the door, away from the dying man.
I nearly fall as I stumble on unfamiliar ground, but manage to stay upright. The girl tightens her grip around my throat and I choke for a moment. I focus on the man coming toward us. He's shouting, but I'm not registering his words. His friend is lying still on the ground behind him in a growing pool of blood.
The dock worker raises the very knife I'd killed his friend with and makes to plunge it toward my chest. I throw up my arms. It's a flimsy defense but it's all I have now.
As I flinch, a pulse in my finger echoes into my body. The ring, my aunt's ring, flares. Flares a violent light, a curious light that I'm able to see without being blinded. I realize there seems to be some barrier of shadow between me and the light.
The man has no such barrier. The light is blinding and he drops the knife in his attempt to cover his eyes. The light disappears as the man falls to the ground. A swirl of black and white light covers his eyes and I realize he can't see me at all. I scramble for the knife before he's able to recover it.
I consider taking advantage of his ailment, but the thought of taking another life tonight fills me with nausea. He's groping blindly on the ground now, like he'll find his sight among the dirt and stones. I take a step back, two steps, and then I'm turning and sprinting for the vehicles.
There's only one left, and it's starting to move. I barely reach the rear bed of the vehicle and pull myself as quietly into it as possible. The vehicle doesn't immediately stop, so I don't think I've been seen. I crouch down behind a crate and breathe heavily.
Muffled crying startles me out of my relief. It's then that I realize the little girl is still hanging on and is weeping through closed eyes onto my back.
I hastily wipe my hands on my bag before tossing it further into the vechile's bed. I slide her hands off my neck and gently lower her to the floor.
"Hey, you're okay. We're okay. We made it. You can open your eyes now."
She does and I can see tears streaming down her face. She's trying very hard to be quiet though, and I recognize that instinct to suffer silently from my own childhood. I pull her into a tight hug.
"It's okay. You're okay now. We're going to be just fine now. You can talk to me about how you're feeling. I'm not going to ignore you."
Her response is quiet enough that if she hadn't been right next to my ear, I wouldn't have heard her over the engines.
"I know you told me to close my eyes, but I know what you did. You killed someone. Did you have to kill him? He didn't do anything to us."
"I…don't think I had any choice. If I'd tried to run past, he would have alerted others and we'd have been stopped before we could get away. I'm sorry. I did what I thought I had to."
She has no more words, only sobs as the vehicles moves through the forest, the half moon shining dimly through the thick branches.
I do my best to comfort her as she cries herself to sleep. My own tears stain into my father's shirt as I hold her close to my chest. I don't even know this girl's name and I've taken responsibility of her entire life now. What the hell am I doing?
As her tears slowly ease into sleeping breaths, I look at my aunt's ring in the dim moonlight. The gem looks gray in this light, no matter which way I turn it. What had happened back there? It had never done that before. It seemed like magic, but I'd not exactly been tutored on the specifics of magic. That I knew of magic at all was thanks to books that she'd found as a child. Even those had been burned as outside propaganda when my parents found me reading them.
/i/I wonder why it activated now. I've been struck before while I was wearing it. Though it's been several years now. Maybe my age has something to do with it./i/
I look down at the child drooling on my chest. I lightly brush the hair out of her face.
/i/She's been through a lot already. I wish I had known of her earlier, though that was probably intentional. Easier to mold her when you're all she's known. I hope I can get us far enough away that no one from that place ever finds us./i/
Tiredness washes over me and I struggle against it. When we break from the trees I need to get us off this thing before anyone notices us. Thankfully, with her cuddled up to me, heat isn't as much of an issue as I had initially worried.
For now though, I needed to keep my wits about me. I shake my head to clear any drowsiness. My eyes don't seem to get the message, and they slowly flutter closed.
"Maybe closing my eyes for a few minutes wouldn't be a bad idea. I won't fall asleep though," I mumble, already losing consciousness.
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Ahhh i should've been clearer, I meant to say, are they abusing the girl in any other way in recent chapters? Neglect is definitely abuse, you are correct, and I'm sorry if I came off that way hhhhhh i just don't word things good.
I wanna add that apparently (grains of salt here but that was a complaint from a friend of mine so my info is probably not correct) , Sakura left Sarada home alone a LOT growing up from the young age because of her hospital work, which is understandable with single working moms, but the way Sakura handled being absent from her daughter's life is a little... Idk, because I grew up with a single working mom myself and she always tried her hardest to spend time with me and made sure I'm safe and with adults she trusted. Sakura just kinda??? Handwaved Sarada's needs to be with her mom and just left her alone by herself at very young age?? This is a big ymmv and again I'm probably without context, but it did feel icky the way the writing handled that part. Not much mentions on the grandparents.
And let's be honest, Sakura is a horrible role model with how entitled and creepy she can get (that one scene with Ino...that one told me she's still immature over Sasuke...).
Sasuke is too damn obvious though, which is unfortunate because I felt like he'd be half decent of a father if he were to be with someone else who understood and respected his personal boundary and to help him heal. Sakura is none of the above. Because Sarada is Sakura's daughter, he wanted nothing to do with both of them, which is pretty cruel and abusive, as you've said.
Regardless, def so far from being the parents of the year.
Oh no you sounded fine. And no there aren’t any signs of “abuse” as of recent but they’ve been barely in the story aside from post time skip Sarada.
You know I still think this can all be explained if Kishimoto had the balls to make Sarada Sasuke and Karin’s clone secretly made by Orochimaru with DNA taken from both of them from their times with him. It would explain why Sakura was so sensitive about Saradas questioning and Sasuke’s unwillingness to be a father because it was basically forced on him unexpectedly. I think this would humanize Sasuke and make him more of Naruto’s opposite as Naruto went about it the right way (falling in love, married, being ready for kids) and Sasuke not having that natural maturity(because of being with Orochimaru) that was required to be a father.
I think I vaguely remember Sarada being left at home and even cooking her own meals. Honestly this just makes Sakura even more pathetic because she wanted to be a “girl boss”.
TBH it would be poetic if Sakura did sacrifice herself for Sarada after her finding out they’re not blood related because it would be the single most selfless thing Sakura would’ve done in this entire series
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look me in the eyes. I'm wearing sunglasses and also inside your phone so you can't but metaphysically please look me in the eyes. What are your Comprehensive Greil Mercenary Literacy Headcanons
i just made the face from the comic on the guy driving and he thinks abt penis. Cracks My Knuckles. get ready
- i think most of them are like. relatively bumpkinish in terms of how they grew up (i. also have hcs for several of them in terms of their parents + their professions but. thats Extraneous here) so i think that more or less, none of them were actually taught how to read as young children with the exception of soren
- soren is by far the Most literate like he can get through rlly dense and verbose texts with ease. his sageparent taught him the basics and from there on out he just kind of. had it down pat?? i think hes always read a lot. just to entertain himself or unwind
- rhys was taught by way of Bible Study basically. i hc that when he was ~12 he started clerical training and generally priests have the distinction of being Educated. him and soren are the only ones who frequently read for leisure
- titania is abt the same Literacy Level as rhys but shes less of a fucking nerd. she learned the basics while working towards Knighthood (bc while its different from irl knighthood, where u were most likely a noble kid who would be training for years and years as a squire + would already know how to read and write, i imagine crimea still likes its knights to at least have a grasp on the written word). and tbh since then??? shes always had sort of a management role in the mercs. im convinced she did the paperwork + finances before soren joined/was old enough
- mist!! is also rather literate!!! she was taught by a combination of all of the above,, images such as titania sometimes letting her watch her write and draft up payment documents. and then her and rhys in the infirmary and shes flipping through a book and asking him abt the odd word she cant figure out?? its Good. tbh mist is just the sort of person where if she finds smth of her interest then she wants to work towards it and get better at it!! shes got a determination abt it and she Did succeed
- oscar is in a similarish boat to titania in that he Is literate bc he was taught in his training for knighthood, not to mention that hes probably been doing the shopping since he was fairly young, so hes got both theory and practical situations under his belt. i cant imagine hes much of a writer however
- rolf!!!! when the three brothers join the mercs, rolf actively Wants to learn how to read!!! bc oscar can and he wants to do it too!!!! unfortunately oscar has spent the past little while being very very busy trying to make sure that the two kids in his care are not starving or freezing to death and thusly hasnt had much spare time to teach him. fortunately at this point mist more or less knows how to read so i think she helps him get going on it. and then a while later once rhys joins?? he helps to. rolf somewhat literate hours. hes allowed
- ike is also semi-taught by soren.... i think he Can read but not necessarily. well?? its not rlly smth that catches his interest beyond its very practical applications, nor has it ever been something hes Had to do. he can go shopping and read a map and thats all he really needs
- boyd is similar to ike except he actively finds reading + anything related to learning it to be a bit of a chore. rolf can read bc he had the desire to do so and found learning it to be fun but boyd doesnt particularly care and also he kind of hates it!!! he recognizes words from the marketplace plus the odd Excited lesson he received from rolf but not a whole lot else
- gatrie shinon and mia straightup cannot read at all. they were never taught and have never rlly sought it out bc of a combination of a) Other Shit Going On and b) its just never been overly relevant?? in life??? its easy enough to shop without it. just pick up the thing u want and ask how much it is. honestly gatrie and mia Might have learned how to write their respective names but shinon actually doesnt rlly. know how
#ask#my post#fe#tellius#headcanon#[prince meme format] you can Always send asks abt fe headcanons#its Always legal#emblemposting
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I often wonder if BlueSpike feels at least a little bit of guilt because of everything he did to Chris.
I wonder this about all the trolls, to be honest, but BlueSpike was an especially nasty little shit. with a lot of the other trolls I can believe that it wasn't out of any real, honest-to-god sadism: the internet was very different back then, and a lot of people really just did not see it as real at all. this is an attitude that I'm thankful we've moved away from (there seems to be more basic understanding that the internet involves other real people with real lives, with the exception of the Terminally Online crowd) but at the time it created this really weird contradiction where people could troll others online and be pretty big assholes, but at the same time they weren't doing it out of any sincere desire to cause harm to another person. it was just assumed everyone was the same: we'd all troll and get trolled, and brush it off just as easily as everyone else did.
but with BlueSpike, man. I think it says something that even the other trolls in the call with him were telling him it was too far and to fuck off, and asking what the fuck was wrong with him. there's something sincerely sadistic about him, and I'm not sure if it's because he really was like, 13, and just didn't understand, or if it's because he's just a really terrible person irl. if he was young and stupid, I imagine he feels bad about it now. I knew a lot of trolls back in the day and a lot of them expressed regret within a few years, as they grew up -- and none of us did anything even remotely like what these trolls did to Chris. I mean, we just did regular stupid trolling; the regret my friends expressed was more to do with how cringe they were being and how pointless it all was rather than "holy shit, I just realised that I wasn't "trolling", I was sexually abusing someone", which is the realisation BlueSpike will have to come to one day (if he hasn't already).
if he really was just wired that way, then unfortunately I imagine he doesn't feel bad. I also believe that he would have probably done worse since then, too. it really does just go to show that even a broken clock is right twice a day: many trolls are not actually as bad as they pretend to be, but some of them are. and when you have a group of people pretending to be something to the point where people who are really like that can't tell the difference and feel safe acting openly... well. what's the difference, really? I should think a lot of people look back on what they did to Chris and feel rightfully terrible about it, but I'm sincerely unsure if BlueSpike is one of them.
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Chapter 2: Kim Seungmin
I don't remember exactly when it happened, but I know that it was during his mom's (my mom's best friend) birthday, that I met Kim Seungmin.
The moment I stepped into the house, I could tell that, despite being a single mother, Ms. Kim was doing very well for herself. I can't really recall what her job was exactly, but I think it had something to do with tourism.
And as I stepped into the wide living room, I could guess that the party would probably get boring pretty quickly, if not downright annoying. This because of the too high number of kids (much younger than me) that I could see walking (some crawling) around, along with who I assumed were their mothers sat on the sofa, sipping champagne and laughing (obnoxiously) loudly.
"Oh my, is this your little girl? She does look just like you, I have to agree." I turned my attention back to the host, an adult woman (on the younger side) dressed to the nines with expensive and incredibly shiny jewelry. Ms. Kim. I greeted her politely, while standing next to my proudly grinning mother.
"She truly is a beauty. I bet the boys go crazy over you. Oh, you must be around my son's age, I'm sure he'd LOVE to meet you! Seungmin, darling! Come over here, meet Hana, Mrs. Park's daughter. She's just a year older than you, I believe."
A hazelnut brown haired boy walked over from the living room sofa, where he had been sitting, surrounded by children.
Despite being younger, Seungmin was quite a bit taller than me, with broad, but shyly hunched shoulders covered by a simple but expensive-looking pale pink sweater, paired with blue jeans and black sneakers (all seemingly of the same, high, level of quality). His hair was wavy and looked incredibly soft, covering his forehead and only showing a small sliver of the middle of it. He had a long angled face, ending at a square chin, with a mole next to his mouth and a straight nose. For some reason he reminded me of a puppy, a beagle to be exact. No idea why.
He smiled tightly and politely, the type of smile most would show in a situation like the current one. I could bet he would look much cuter with a genuine smile.
"Well, why don't you two go and get to know each other? Me and Mrs. Park over here, have a lot of catching up to do." Ms. Kim said jokingly, laying a hand on mine and Seungmin's shoulders and gently directing us back to the living room, as both ladies walked to the balcony. Ms. Kim took out a cigarette as they did. I could have guessed she smoked, no amount of expensive perfume (even if it was a lot of it) could fully cover that distinct smell of smoke.
I sat next to Seungmin on the couch, opposite of where the other older women were sitting, chatting loudly, still. In clear contrast to them, were us, sitting in absolute and tense silence.
Every time I thought of starting a conversation, I talked myself out of it, thinking that he'd do it instead. But he never did. He seemed pretty content with just sitting in relative (but definitely awkward) silence.
I quickly grew annoyed at having to listen to the women screech about everything that didn't matter in the slightest to me, like the latest trends and who was dating who at the moment. So, I turned toward Seungmin to try to figure out what he was thinking of the situation.
Unlike what I imagined, I turned to find him fidgeting and squirming in his seat while his eyes darted around the crowded room. Seeing as he showed outwardly what I was feeling inside, I decided to finally try to evade the situation.
"Look, I don't wanna be here. And clearly, neither do you. So, you know any place we could go to where it isn't so loud?" I asked somewhat impatiently making my accidental companion flinch from the suddenness of my question, scrambling for an answer.
"Well, my room has a balcony. It's pretty quiet there, I think."
"Then, what are we waiting for? Let's get out of here before I lose any more brain cells from listening to whatever uselessness those ladies are talking about over there." I said exasperated, already getting up from my seat as Seungmin quickly did the same. That seemed to make his lips twitch slightly. It was gone the next second, as if it had never been there to begin with, which piqued my curiosity: 'what would his real smile look like?', I wondered.
We headed to his room (thankfully unnoticed as I didn't want to even try and explain the situation we were in). It was big, but seemed smaller than it actually was due to all the clutter littered around. Despite this it still seemed to be very aesthetically pleasing, as the warm brown walls paired with the yellow string lights hanging around the room (which I only noticed after he flicked the light switch) and the soft and fluffy caramel carpet created a soothing and cozy atmosphere. A detail that caught my attention almost immediately after the lights were on (besides the string lights) were the various printed photos hanging from ropes on more than one of the room’s walls. It just helped with making the room feel as if it had been taken straight out of an interior design catalog.
Upon closer inspection, as Seungmin busied himself with trying to open the sliding door to the balcony, the pictures didn’t look anywhere near what I’d expected. They certainly didn’t look like the work of an amateur, the angles were creative and eye catching and the light and framing always seemed to be just right in each and every one. I was caught off guard by the quality of all of them for a moment, before my eye caught onto something atop a shelf to my right. A VERY expensive-looking white camera.
I realized it made sense as I thought back to the car ride from my suburban house to the apartment complex where he lived, in the fancier part of town.
Seungmin groaned in frustration as he struggled to open the balcony door.
“Is it jammed? Do you need my help?” I ask as I watched him wrestle with it for a moment longer before taking a deep breath and turning toward me.
“No, it’s not and no, I don’t. This door just needs a little… finessing, is all. So don't worry about it.” He tried reassuring before going back to trying to tug the door open, although with how skinny his arms looked (even under his fashionably bulky sweater), I had my doubts that he would be able to get the door open.
But I was proven wrong as, only a moment later, (by means of finesse indeed) he was finally able to open the hellish glass door.
“It’s old and I use it a lot, so it needs to be fixed, which we were supposed to do a while ago but whatever. Doesn’t matter. Come on.” He said absentmindedly, finally stepping outside. I quickly followed suit.
Once I stepped foot onto the white-tiled floor, I was hit with a gust of wind which brought with it an air much colder than the atmosphere inside the house had been like. And I mean MUCH colder, to the point where it didn't even help cool down my steaming cheeks, (which I only realized were so at that moment) only serving to basically freeze them instead. But I have to say, the view was worth it.
Living in the suburbs had a lot of perks in comparison to this part of town, such as the peace and quiet, and how everyone seemed to know each other. But I realized in that moment that none of it could compare to the view of the city skyline at night from Seungmin's balcony.
The lights of the buildings in the distance seemed to shine like stars and the shape of the tall and skinny buildings of the city were such a stark contrast to what I was used to that I just couldn't tear my eyes away. Of course I could hear the sounds of traffic from my house, but the night seemed much quieter than I had expected. The whole atmosphere was so different that it seemed so captivating to me just because of my curiosity.
It seemed like my curiosity wasn't wholly to blame for my astonishment at the scene, as Seungmin quickly disappeared back into his room to fetch something, as I leaned onto the metal railing, eyes still locked onto those bright lights that reflected off of the shiny windows of the fancier buildings. The city really never slept, I realized.
The boy returned not a moment later, camera in hand as he stood beside me, pointing it at where I was looking, then fiddling with some buttons before the sound of a photo being taken sounded over the now calmer wind, all as I observed him keenly.
As he continued to take his photos, seemingly unbothered by my staring, I turned back to the view, laying my cheek against my palm as I gazed at the sky. It made me think about how (unfortunately), because of all the artificial lights, I couldn't see the stars. But it made sense to me, in a very weirdly poetic way. If you can see all these "stars" on earth, why would you even look for stars in the sky? Plus, with the life people led these days, I guess it didn't really matter much.
I was brought out of my reverie by movement at the corner of my eye. Seungmin had raised his pristine white camera, aiming it at the side of my face, seemingly framing the shot, before pulling his face away from the viewfinder to look at my face himself but keeping his hands in the exact same place.
"Um... I know this is weird but, can I take a picture of you?" He asked nervously, but seemingly eager.
"Sure, why not?" I answered nonchalantly, trying my best to keep down the blush that threatened to spread across my cheeks, despite the cold. To even think that someone like him, who seemed close to a professional's level at such a young age, would consider including me in one of his photographs was flattering enough, much less making me the center of it.
I tried my best to relax and focus on the soft clicks the device emitted every time a photo was taken.
The boy finally parts from his machine, overlooking his work and nodding to himself, seemingly satisfied. He leaned the camera toward me so I could look at it myself and my breath is immediately taken from me.
I would never consider my appearance to be anything extraordinary (and I still wouldn't do it now) but perhaps it was Seungmin’s magic that made a picture of me look like so much more. The way the golden lights lit up my face by settling into the smooth planes of skin made it resemble liquid gold, dripping from the sky and thinly covering my exposed features. My eyes reflected the same lights, shining like stars in an endless and dark sky.
“Wow… Seungmin, you really have a talent.” I chucked, still astonished.
“I do have to say, this might be my best one yet. Can I…?”
“Keep it, it might be my face, but it’s your vision so it belongs to you in my eyes.” I shrugged, dismissively. He nodded gratefully, raising the camera once again towards the view beyond the balcony as I sat against the wall next to the door.
After a few minutes, Seungmin sat beside me with a satisfied smile on his lips and hair tousled from the wind that had picked up.
I felt an involuntary shiver crawl up my back as the cold air grazed my thinly covered arms. I subconsciously leaned closer to the brown haired boy, seeking for some warmth, as I remembered that I had left my jacket in the coat hanger by the front door, downstairs.
I sighed defeatedly, about to go get it, but it seemed as if my shiver had not gone unnoticed, as I had hoped. Seungmin got up before I could, walking back inside his room without a word. I looked at the door that he had gone through curiously.
Not even a second later, he stepped back out onto the balcony, with a tan, soft and warm looking coat in his hand. He held it out to me wordlessly, motioning for me to take it. I did so with a grateful smile and a small 'thanks'. It was still too small for my liking, though.
I wanted to know if his gums would show or if his eyes would disappear behind his cheeks.
“I think we should go inside now.” I suggested after the temperature had gone down too much for us to stay comfortably on the balcony any longer. Seungmin nodded, not finding the lights interesting enough to endure the cold air any longer.
We moved back inside and as Seungmin closed the sliding door behind us I took another look around the room. As I scanned the coffee-colored walls again, I noticed something that I seemed to have missed the first time I had examined the space, possibly due to the awkwardness I had felt as I stepped into the room of a boy I had only just met for the first time. I was a bit disappointed and confused as to how I could have missed it.
The wall opposite the one I had been inspecting as I waited for Seungmin to finally open the door, was covered (almost floor-to-ceiling) in photographs. Some were bigger than others, some seemed older than others, but they all had the same sort of… style to them. From how the light hit the subject in focus, to the angles, it all had the same artistic flare that would commonly be found in the most prestigious art galleries in the world. Maybe that was a bit of an overstatement, but it perfectly encapsulated what I felt as I looked at what I saw as indisputable masterpieces.
I let out a sound akin to a sigh, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of me. Sure, the picture Seungmin had taken of me on the balcony was unbelievably stunning, but that could be excused as luck. I never thought he’d be able to capture a moment so beautifully one other time, let alone enough times to cover almost an entire wall with.
“Wow… These are amazing, Seungmin.” I turned towards him as he stopped beside me, blushing at my praise.
“Oh, they’re nothing…” He said, looking down sheepishly.
“No! They really are! I may know next to nothing of photography, but it doesn't take an expert to see that you have an incredible talent or just remarkable skill.” I said earnestly, seeking out his eyes that had become hidden as his head lowered in shyness to prove my honesty, making him even more flustered as he tried his best to avoid my awe-stricken gaze.
“Well… I do spend a lot of time on it.” He relented, finally accepting my compliments, albeit rather bashfully.
“It shows.” I said firmly, turning back to the wall of moments.
From the corner of my eyes I caught a small, but more significantly sized, real smile, brought on probably by the ease in tension.
We spent the rest of the night in his room, getting to know each other. His smile (the real one) never left his lips as we talked about his love for photography. In fact, it only seemed to broaden the more we talked and the more relaxed we became. Its brightness never dimmed, even as we moved on to other topics, such as his other friends and what school he frequented. I found out that he didn’t have many friends, but he didn't seem to mind, he actually seemed to prefer it that way which made me feel like an exception. And, although I wouldn’t admit it, it made a warm feeling bloom in my chest.
As the night came to an end, we were called downstairs, back to the living room, where mine and Seungmin’s mom waited, alone as no one else remained in the space.
We bid each other goodbye, Ms. Kim making a comment about how I should visit more often, making my mother laugh as Seungmin returned to his shy demeanor.
I later found out that he had chosen my high school to frequent through Jeongin, the 1st year student that I mentored in English, who was apparently also Seugmin’s best friend. Once I met with the boy again and asked why he hadn’t told me, he explained that he wanted to but every time we talked we’d get carried away in our stories and he’d always forget.
Moving schools midyear couldn’t have been easy for him, but he seemed to quickly become very popular amongst not only the students but the teachers as well. He was polite, friendly, helpful and the top of his class in grades. And despite it being only his first year of high school, everyone from his teachers, to his mother and even my own, could tell with clear certainty that he had a bright future ahead of him. I myself knew that, encouraging him as he started thinking about studying abroad, even as I briefly acknowledged the ache that formed in my chest at the thought of him doing so. I didn’t know exactly what that ache was due to, but I didn’t think I was ready to find out yet, so I continued to brush it off. Until a very special evening that is.
In light of Seungmin joining the photography club, his keen eye was quickly noticed by not only his classmates, but most importantly by his teacher, who decided to talk to him about the possibility of participating in our district’s photography contest. Something he had immediately said ‘yes’ to.
The 10 best were invited to a lavish event where the winner would be revealed. And it came as no surprise to me that Seungmin was invited. What did come as a surprise, was him asking me to attend the event with him. He said it was fitting, since one of the entries he submitted was the first photo he took of me, the one on the balcony. After getting over the initial surprise, I agreed without hesitation.
But now, staring at the museum’s grand staircase in my knee-lenght, flowy, peach colored dress, I felt my stomach twist itself into more knots than I had in my hair when I woke up that morning. And as the cold, spring night air brushed my bare legs I simultaneously wanted to stay where I was, rooted to the ground and holding tightly onto Seungmin’s arm, while also wanting to go in and just getting it over with so that I could escape the cold.
A reassuring squeeze on my hand put a pause on my anxious thoughts as I turned towards the puppy eyed boy I was here for.
As I looked him over once more I felt my mood brighten a bit, I almost wanted to giggle. He was sharply dressed in a simple black tuxedo with a yellow tie, that he said he had chosen to try to match my dress. But it wasn’t the brightly colored tie that almost made me laugh despite the mood I was in.
It was simply the image of Seungmin, who basically only wore jeans and loose-fitting shirts and hoodies despite his mother’s insistence in telling him that he had to look his best at all times, wearing such formal clothing that caused such a reaction.
His cheeks were colored pink as he, seemingly, chose to focus on the spot above my left eyebrow instead of looking me in the eye, which reminded me of what had transpired just minutes before.
As I arrived at his house before the event, so we could arrive together, I was immediately warmly greeted by Ms. Kim, who told me that Seungmin would be ready in just a moment. We made small talk about school as we waited, and soon I heard the sound of footsteps approaching the entrance.
As Ms. Kim stepped aside to look at her son, my eyes immediately locked onto the vibrant tie he had previously told me he would wear, before moving up to his face, which was a sight in and of itself.
His lips were parted in awe and his cheeks were flushed a light pink, which darkened as he locked eyes with me, prompting both of us to look away shyly.
“You look— Ahem. You look lovely.” He said, voice cracking midway.
“Thank you! You look pretty… Snazzy!” I don’t think I’ve ever regretted saying something as much as in that moment.
As people continued to enter the building, we still stood outside, trying to calm each other’s nerves more than our own. Seungmin tried his best to look me in the eyes and give me a reassuring smile, but it ended up being none of that. A for effort nonetheless.
“Let’s just get this over with.” I finally said, trying to appear nonchalant and unbothered as I quaked in my low black heels.
As we stepped into the building, Seungmin’s mother left the both of us alone to go socialize and we were left to our own devices. We decided to pass the time by looking around at the other participants.
We walked among the crowd of mostly adults who looked at us as if we were supposed to be somewhere else, it was unnerving to say the least. To quell our nerves we poked fun at things such as the models’ poses and the weird props used in some pictures. We were both well aware that what we were doing was probably disrespectful (if the artists were to overhear us) and that others were probably doing the same to our photos, but we couldn’t help it, they just looked too pretentious to not make fun of. What did they expect from two highschool kids?
I genuinely hoped that Seungmin was chosen as the winner, and not because he was my friend (at least not entirely). But because all the entries we had passed by didn’t seem to have any genuine emotion put behind them, or any creativity. They seemed like those art pieces that appear to portray a deep message but would seem like nonsense to anyone that had even a semblance of common sense and wasn’t content in just going along with whatever some high and mighty creator threw them. Not to mention the fact that most seemed to be relying only on their expensive cameras to win them the prize instead of actually putting any real thought or effort into their photos.
I knew I was nowhere near an “art-connoisseur”, I wasn’t even a contestant, but after spending so much time with Seungmin and his heartfelt pieces, I had formed my own opinion on art.
Just as we started to run out of “humorous critiques”, unknowingly almost wandering into a closed off section, a nearby speaker declared that the winners would soon be announced and for all the guests to gather in the main room.
Many eyes locked onto us as we entered the large (but slightly cramped) room. (Or was that just my nerves?) Just as I thought, we seemed to be the youngest people in the room as far as I could see (which wasn’t very far as everyone was so tall, and my heels barely helped), except for some kids who were very clearly some contestant’s children. It made me feel proud for Seungmin and intimidated, at the same time.
I unconsciously began to curl into myself, clenching my fists at my sides and chewing on my bottom lip as anxiety began to wash over me, slowly but surely. I began wondering if Seungmin even had a chance to win, how heartbroken I thought he’d be if he lost and what the other contestants found so interesting in us to keep staring as I knew they were as we approached the front of the room where a small platform was raised, behind it were the paintings competing. The lady next to us gave us an odd look, as if she thought we might be lost, but didn’t say a word.
As if noticing my distress, or perhaps to ground himself, Seungmin’s hand snuck between my hand and my side, the tip of his fingers tentatively hovering over my palm as if wanting to hold my hand but unsure if he could. With an uncharacteristic burst of confidence, brought on by the need to hold onto something, I interlocked our fingers tightly, squeezing once for comfort.
A man stepped on stage, asking the crowd to quiet down, and it was as if my brain had listened to his command and suddenly everything became quiet. Looking at the boy beside me, his expression seemed to reflect the same emotions, but as he noticed my stare he managed to conjure up a vaguely reassuring smile.
I felt more than a little silly for being so stressed out over something that Seungmin probably would just brush off, but the idea of how elated he would become if he won was just too perfect to be taken away from me. I just wanted to see him happy. No matter what.
And as my mind zeroed into that thought, the realization of a fact that had actually always been there hit me. It was so obvious that the meaning never fully registered.
I wanted to see Seungmin happy, no matter what, and the implications that were previously lost on me now came to light. It was more than friendly, that was for sure.
As the man on stage went one with his speech, my mind lingered on precious images I had saved in my brain, like Seungmin’s smile. His genuine smile and not the stiff and fake version he first presented to me. I felt how much joy and comfort it brought me.
All his pictures, and how many emotions they brought me.
How he always called ME first when he wanted to take a specific picture because I was apparently his favorite model.
How my heart would skip a few beats when Jeongin mentioned that he’d said something about me, always wondering what exactly it had been but never asking.
How warm and soft his hand felt in mine, and how much comfort the simple action of holding his hand brought me.
It all made me realize that there was something there, something strong and important.
And once my mind shifted back to the situation at hand, the third place had already been announced and the second on its way to the stage. This meant one of two things, either Seungmin would be first place, or he hadn’t even reached the podium. I prayed for the first option, but expected the second.
So I looked back to the young boy’s piece, and all the memories and emotions it held.
It was a photo taken in Seungmin’s balcony, of me leaning against the metal railing. My face was dark as I faced away from the unfocused colored lights behind me and towards the camera. My hair was wet from the rain, droplets running down my face and neck towards my floor-length dress, which from what I remember was way too thin as I started sneezing almost immediately after the long time it took to get that picture to be perfect. I couldn’t see or recall what my expression was since all that could be seen of my front were the minuscule bits of light some droplets reflected.
I remembered the moment Seungmin saw the dress on me, he seemed to have an epiphany, immediately demanding that we needed to have a photoshoot with it. It was nothing special in my eyes, but he seemed to see something in it.
He was immediately taken with the picture as he saw it first in his mind and then on his screen, much like he had been with the one he took on the night we met (which he, at first, wanted to use as his submission to the last stage of the competition, until I managed to make him understand that it just wasn't enough). It was colorful, bright, full of youth and life, in my eyes.
“And the winner is…” The announcer said, making my grip on Seungmin’s hand become impossibly tighter. And as the name of the winner was spoken and I registered that it wasn’t my friend’s (or maybe more) name, my shoulders dropped and my hand went lax in the boy’s hold. I looked at the winner's piece, in search for some answers or closure, for a turmoil that wasn’t really mine to feel.
The older man’s piece was a picture of a meteor shower, rare and undoubtedly beautiful. The stars shone in the sky just like the rain had on my skin, yet to me, they seemed so different.
I searched my brain for answers to why this was so much better than our piece, fundamentally ours had more layers, even more colors. And it had a story, of all the times we spent alone on that balcony sharing dreams and visions, and as far as the judges knew the story could be much different, much deeper and…
Then I realized what went wrong. The judges couldn’t score a piece simply for what it could be, but for what it was. The meteor shower was a beauty of nature, unquestionable and clearly on display to all, while the beauty of Seungmin’s photo seemed to be wholly personal, something that perhaps not all could see or feel the full weight of. I felt silly for letting my emotions cloud my vision for so long and so intensely but with my new found feelings for the boy, it wasn’t all that surprising. It still didn’t take away the feeling of my heart being shattered into many tiny pieces as Seungmin was announced as being in fourth place. Fourth place! So painfully close. But what really hurt, was the tight and insincere smile he presented to me after giving what he probably hoped was a reassuring squeeze of my hand, but actually only served to stomp on the tiny pieces left of my heart, shattered through pure disappointment and sadness.
All the other adults were quick to begin mingling as soon as all the names were announced. I released a sigh.
“Fourth place, for the first time, isn’t terrible. I think.” Seungmin said, positively, and what I managed to grant him as a response was a low hum of sad and resigned agreement.
Figuring that the night was technically over for us, as we had nothing else to do in that space since we weren’t about to begin socializing with a bunch of adults who still looked at us as if we didn’t belong there, we walked to the entrance room, Seungmin sending his mother a text to come to us.
“Excuse me! Are you Kim Seungmin, perhaps?” Said a middle-aged man as he approached us with a smile.
“Yeah- I mean, yes. That would be me. Did you need something?” The boy asked nervously, clearing his throat.
“Yes! I need to talk to you! I think it’s impressive that you even managed to get this far with your age, and to be fourth place as the youngest competitor just shows how much potential you have! I commend you for your work and passion!” The man said excitedly.
I once again tuned their conversation out, only coming back to the present to send the occasional polite smile and to walk to the car once Seungmin’s mother arrived (and was done speaking to the lively man).
A certain possibility which caused me both joy and sadness loomed over me as we got back to the Kim family apartment, me and my friend walking up the stairs towards his balcony to sit in as we waited for my mother to come pick me up, as she had insisted on doing.
My beautiful dress did me no favors against the cold wind of the balcony, leaving me curled up in front of the glass sliding door facing the bright city lights while shivering slightly, but not thinking for a moment to go get a jacket and I did all that on autopilot.
Just as the cold was starting to sober me up and break me out of my trance, a jacket (too large to be mine) was laid across my shoulders, before Seungmin sat beside me. That tan, warm and soft jacket from what seemed like so long ago.
“Why do you look so down? If it’s for me, then there's no need. Fourth place really isn't that bad, plus, and you probably weren't paying attention but the man me and my mother talked to offered me a chance to get a scholarship! In the states no less! I mean, first I have to apply and a spot isn't exactly one-hundred percent guaranteed, but I got a pretty good chance!” He very much reminded me of a puppy in that moment, ecstatic and jumpy, full of smiles and talking so fast that he became slightly breathless.
I battled with myself. He clearly seemed excited over the prospect of studying abroad and although it felt like my life’s mission at that moment was making him as happy as possible, I really, really, didn’t want him to go. To be so far away from me.
“And I know it makes very little sense, but… I want you to come with me. Don’t think about it too much, or you’ll stress yourself out but I feel like you made this opportunity possible, so I’d love to have you by my side. What do you say? I mean, you don’t have to say it now, we still have time. But, maybe you could give me a pointer?” He looked at me with those big puppy eyes full of hopes and dreams, begging to not be shattered.
He was right, the whole thing didn’t make a lot of (if any) sense, and it seemed like he was just riding the good mood he was in, but the answer still seemed to matter a lot to him.
Truth be told, I had absolutely no intention or interest in studying abroad and even though it was a priceless opportunity for Seungmin, I didn’t want him to go either. I didn’t want things to change so drastically. I wanted to keep him warm smiles and comforting touches near (and possibly all to myself).
But he was right, it wouldn’t happen for at least a couple of years, so truly there was no need for a definitive answer.
“I’ll think about it.” I said to which he nodded, seemingly pleased, before turning his gaze to the mesmerizing lights of the city.
Even though I said what I said, I knew my real answer already. I truly didn’t want to go.
But as I looked at his side profile, the faintest (but cutest) ghost of a self-satisfied smile on his lips, I knew that I would do anything for even that smile, which was so small and probably careless, even if it meant taking Seungmin halfway across the world, and away from me.
#skz#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz x you#skz fluff#stray kids soft hours#stray kids seungmin#kim seungmin#kim seungmin x reader#kpop#skz seungmin#skz seungmin x reader#stray kids fluff#fluff#skz oneshots#stray kids oneshot#skz soft#skz soft hours#seungmin soft hours#seungmin oneshot
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You always have the best advice, so query? I'm starting in on a story that's been bugging me for five years now, but I'm having a bit of trouble with it. Basically it's about a girl (young woman? 19yo) who inherits a decrepit old house from her murdered grandmother. The catch is the house is in an small college town in the rural south and it's populated solely by preternatural beings. Witches, werewolves, fae, kappa, etc. and she doesn't know. By small town I mean 40-70,000, so smallish. (A)
and the college is entirely preternatural beings as well. But MC doesn’t know anything about this because her grandmother married a human and got the hell out of dodge, basically. Anyways the house has a ghost who is not loving the roommate life, and MC just figures she’s got a small kid breaking in and tries to make friends with what is basically an angsty Victorian dude who died young and is bitter* about it and fashion. Anyways I’m struggling with the whole town bit since I grew up in a city and I only lived near a small town once while in a tiny ass college in Indiana for a year. I know I want them to be pretty set in their ways, since a lot of them are super old, and kinda racist in a ‘human?!?!!?’ type way. But beyond that I’m fairly lost? Also plot is killing me. I have a lot of subplots (tea witch? Tea witch!) but no real major plot. Super rambly sorry, but any advice you’ve got would be greatly appreciated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
so like, I realize 40,000 is not what most consider a small town, but I’m basing this off the town near where I went to school. So Madison, Indiana? Which has an amazing downtown totally visit worthy. Thanks again though!!
Or…12,000 people. Where on Earth did I get 40,000??? Sorry ignore that last one. 40,000…. wow.
Thanks for the kind words! I do my best–and don’t worry about rambly. I tend to get rambly, too. Let’s see what I can jump-start for you.
I’m going to start with finding plot in your setting and how to deal with your subplot ideas first and then move on to That Small Town Feeling™ under a cut, if that’s okay.
Finding Plot
Plot is all about finding the story, and the story is sorting out what you want to talk to the audience about. If you’re just looking to show off the town and the scenarios the character has to deal with as she learns where she’s moved to, then you’re probably not looking for a huge, high-stakes, world-changing kind of story–you might be looking for smaller things to showcase the supernatural abilities and characteristics of the people around her.
It might help to think of this more in terms of shorter story arcs that overlap to create a larger picture of her life in this new, strange place. The old SyFy show Eureka is probably a good place to start looking to get a feel for the way these kinds of shorter-arcs-to-paint-a-larger-picture look.
Think about what her goals are in this new place. Why did she come? What is she trying to do? Is she trying to make new friends so she can feel more like she belongs? Is she trying to fix up the house so she can sell it? Is she looking for a job so she can actually afford to live here?
What kinds of conflicts do these goals create with the people in town? Are there folks who are actively opposed to her being in town? How do they react toward her? How do they keep standing in her way? Are there others who welcome her and go out of their way to give her opportunities, thus creating a bit of inter-town tension?
Some of the best initial conflict is going to be with the ghost in the house, obviously. So think about what his goals are and what he wants. How does he go about trying to accomplish those goals? Does he have friends that help him? This doesn’t have to be the whole story arc; at some point she’ll have to find out the nature of the town she’s arrived in, and the arc of dealing with a ghost rather than rowdy kids won’t be so important or intriguing. So how does their relationship change once she finds out his nature? Does he ever help her with anything?
What kinds of conflicts do the creatures’ natures provide for your character? Does she accept their mythic natures well? Does she take it poorly? How do these new identities change how she sees the town or how she interacts with it.
Struggling with “the story you want to tell” but not worldbuildingConcept Is Not PlotFrom Concept to PlotGetting Started with Your Story from @plotlinehotlineThe GOTE MethodHow to Transform Raw Inspiration Into a Solid Novel Plan from David Safford20 Basic Plots from @thewritershandbookNaNo Overview Week: Conflict Resources from @writeblrconnectionsBuilding Tension with the Six Key Components from @hollyhamwrites5 Moral Dilemmas That Make Characters and Stories Even Better
Handling the Ideas
For the ideas about other real Characters™ in town like your tea witch and whatnot, these are perfect characters for scenes! You can explore them through your character’s curiosity without having the weight of building an entire complex plot out for them. If, as you’re writing, they become a recurring character, then consider what they’re doing in the time they’re not “on-screen” with the main story. What are they pursuing? What are they trying to accomplish with their life? What kinds of troubles are they going through?
Not all of their story has to go on the page, but throwing in moments where a character may see them on the street exiting a store, or wearing a new pendant they were given by a partner, or cleaning up a mess made in an attempt at magic (or something) will help to give depth to the character and a feeling that the town continues to live and move and breathe while you take your audience away from them for scenes elsewhere.
If you’re feeling particularly ambitious, think about how these various smaller side characters and ideas interact with what your main character is trying to achieve. Can you build threads of other things going on that your main character only sees parts of that later become the main character’s focus once she’s started to settle in to the weirdness of the town.
If a selkie’s backyard above-ground pool springs a leak and collapses, blocking off the street out of the character’s neighborhood, you’ve not only created an obstacle toward your main character’s goals, but also provided a hook for your character to go do something with that character. Or maybe several side characters are working together toward something, and while you follow the main character’s struggle with a fae contractor’s refusal to install wrought iron railings in the antique staircase, the side characters’ plan fails and things happen in town that the main character has to handle or is impacted by later when she’s out trying to accomplish something else.
Small Town Feeling
Okay, so Madison, IN is just shy of 12,000 people, like you said. In your initial ask, though, you mention the town for your story being approximately 40-70,000 people, which is a rather large difference. So I’m not entirely sure if you mean to base your story off 12,000 or ~55,000, but I assume you’re going for kind of the smaller end of things, maybe 30-45,000.
I grew up moving every two years, and I’ve lived in two towns of the size you’re talking about, and in fact, one of those two towns is where I’m living now, so I’m fairly well equipped to talk to you about some things about towns that size. (One was ~60,000; where I live now is ~55,000 centered around a university, with a small add-on town that’s growing into this one that’s ~14,500.) My grandparents also live in a small university town that’s a little over 30,000 whom I visit on a regular basis. Unfortunately, none of these were in the south–they’ve all been in the west–so while I’ve been in the south, I’m not entirely sure how some of these things change for that locality. Obviously, these are generalizations; they can be twisted, bent, exaggerated, ignored, whatever you want to fit your story. It’s all believable here.
Everybody knows where everything is in town, and they forget that new folks don’t know that the Brass Rail restaurant used to be an old train station. This means that people always say things like, “Oh, it’s down where [a non-existent store] used to be.” And that means nothing to the new person. “Great. What’s around it now?” Or, “Have you been to that new place where the [non-existent thing] was?” …. “Maybe?? Where is it?”
There are a couple of “main drags” in town, and at least two of them involve the street names “Main” and/or “Center.” The rest are named after location-relevant historical people or places. There’s usually the commercial drag, the old downtown drag, and the university drag. (I mention this one particularly because you mentioned there’s a college in this town. There are distinctly different amenities around the university than around the rest of the town.) They vary in how nice they are and take pride in either their ability to maintain the facilities (in the commercial districts) or in how long they’ve survived in the town (in the old downtown districts).
Changes at the university are the Talk of the Town forever and people who work at the university never get to hear of anything else because everyone wants your opinion on the latest department name changes and the removal of the extremely-dangerous-but-extremely-nostalgic landmark on campus. Universities and colleges employ a lot of people, so parking hang-tags are a common sight around town, and can be a hot-ticket item for car theft. If someone new moves to town, it’s safe to assume they’re either a student, a university employee, or working at one of the packing plants (or in our case, the semi-conductor plant) in town. People will talk about those changes for years past when anyone cares.
Stores tend to be a mix of mainstream and homegrown. Where I live right now is about 50/50, but the smaller it gets, the more homegrown stores there’ll be. And a lot of those homegrown stores will have strange stock lists. You’ll get a yarn store with hardware in the corner, and an old-fashioned candy store attached to a specialty clothing boutique attached to a seasonal decorations store. It can get weird and quirky.
Going to other nearby towns/cities isn’t a big deal. Everybody has to go at some point for something, because there just isn’t a shop for everything in town. Driving an hour (probably closer in the south, tbqh; the west is very far-flung) to the next town isn’t new, and it’s not treated as anything special. You just do it.
Roads are not in great condition and they never will be. Smaller towns do not have the monetary infrastructure to be able to keep the roads nice even within town, and that means all over town, not just isolated to poorer communities within town. The main drags may have pot holes or sink holes open up that are enough to take out your car, and it may take months for the city to fix them. And even then? The fix was pouring road surfacing into the hole until it looked level, but that road surfacing isn’t concrete and it sinks and compresses over time. That pot hole will be back in a matter of days, weeks, or months if you’re lucky. It won’t be as bad, but it sure will dip your car.
The streets don’t make sense sometimes. Some sections do–some are convenient grids, particularly around the university–but some sections are weirdly meandering. Some parts of town seem to be where the state decided to dump all their one-way signs, which results in either a lot of backtracking or out-of-towners driving the wrong way. Stop signs are common. Stop lights are reserved for major drags and intersections, otherwise it’s a 4-way stop. But it does seem like the city is always evaluating whether they need a stop light–the long black wires stretched across a street to gauge how many cars drive through are very common–regardless of whether one actually gets put in. Where sections of town grew into each other wind up with really weird junctions, and sometimes they get nicknamed. “It’s in that complex of buildings down by the wiggly bit” is a legit direction to give someone. Don’t worry about your town layout being perfect. Downtowns are particularly notorious for poor layout.
Special note: My town is where the state comes to test new road layouts, interchanges, and junctions, so we have a lot of weirdness going on. When I say don’t worry about your layout, I freaking mean it. Towns are weird.
Roads are 2-lanes most of the time, by which I mean 1 lane each way. Main drags are usually 4 (2 both ways) with a middle turn lane for a total of 5. That’s it. It doesn’t usually get bigger than that, and that’s usually at the commercial drag.
Outside city limits isn’t that far away, and while it’s mostly farms and whatnot, there are reasons to head out that way. Sometimes it’s faster to go out to the back roads to get home than it is to go down the main drags.
There’s an absurd amount of pride for something trivial about the town. There’s a festival each year for something weird. There’s events around town for things that would never happen elsewhere. The farmer’s market is A Destination (it’s nothing particularly special, but folks talk about it like it is). The rotary club is a visible entity (and it’s a little weird just how visible they are).
There’s a definite culture about the town. Attire for certain events heightens or relaxes depending on not only the size of town but the location within the country. There are expectations about How Things Are Done that don’t change. Holding on to the past is how they know they’ve survived, so they cling to it. There’s a prevailing slant of political opinions and religious practice, with a small smattering of other minorities that most folk ignore. Some of those minorities are LOUD, though, and that can grate on folks. In a university town, they tend to be a bit more accepting of other ways of life and belief, but mostly because “accepting” can just be “ignoring without actively disliking.” Don’t rock the boat and we won’t rock you.
You are known. This obviously isn’t a thing isolated to small towns, but it’s noticeable. People in towns this size all mingle in the same places–everybody has habits and routines, and you become a part of that with time. You wind up with relationships with your serving staff at restaurants and you know when certain grocery store clerks have their shifts. Heck, I don’t go in to the Perkins here in town that often, but the manager knows me and comes to talk, and when I need to reserve space for our NaNo group every November, I don’t even have to say anything. When I come in in October, she just sits down at my table with her book to schedule the group in. I left a scarf there and when I came in three days later, she just handed it to me over the counter without me having to see if they’d seen it. People know you, and the world is small: They know everybody else, too.
There are a few well-known figures in town that maybe not everyone has met, but they all know who they are. The McKee family runs the pet store and plant nursery on the main drag, and they’ve been running it so long that when you say you’re a McKee, everyone asks you about the store. Gloria Howell is the best real estate agent in town and everybody got their house from her. Tom runs one of the coffee shops downtown but he’s also the in-town LGBTQIA+ front-man, so to speak. Everybody knows him and everybody’s got their opinions.
If there’s anything more specific you’re looking for advice on in regards to your town, please let me know. These are just basic generics since the question wasn’t very specific. Good luck and have fun! -Pear
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This might sound bad but I've never really followed the winter games so I'm not sure what to look for...USA for the Olympics thing.
It’s not bad! That’s why I’m going to be posting some primers each day for events that help explain what the events are and who is good.
So let’s start generally because the US has a giant Olympic team…
Hockey this year wont have the NHL so the US likely wont do as well as it did in previous Olympics (and neither will Canada) on the men’s side. On the women’s side it usually comes down to the United States and Canada for gold. It will again this year. The US hasn’t come out the better for this match in 20 years … but it’s always hard fought.
Curling we did really bad at in Sochi and a lot of money was spent improving fitness and strategy at US curling. How it will do against the rest of the world remains to be seen in my book but they’re introducing a new form of curling this year played by one man and one woman called Mixed Doubles Curling. The US team is this really charismatic (and very good) brother and sister from Wisconsin that have a wonderful sense of humor and should make watching it fun. They both play on the big four person teams for the US too.
Bobsled we have some serious chances in. This is really a sport that has folded in ex summer olympian track and field stars. The only reservation I put in is that I don’t think the US sleds (the physical things) are very good. There has been some wonkiness on the world cup races.
Skeleton (going down the track head first on a sled) we have some good sliders on a good day that can do well.
Luge (going down the track feet first on a sled)… we have good women but the Germans will win everything in luge.
Short Track speed skating was a disappointment in Sochi only winning a relay. There is a lot of angst about it but some really promising athletes. The US didn’t qualify a women’s relay so we could only send three women, where as we are sending five men. The big names to know here are JR Celeski, John Henry Kruger, and Maame Bimey. Bimey is the first black woman named to a US olympic speed skating team. Her father is from Ghana and my favorite quote from him is “the only thing cold in Ghana is beer.” She’s amazing.
If short track was a disappointment in Sochi for the Americans than Long Track was a disaster. A combination of weird performances, equipment issues and the Dutch monstering the entire event. It was the first time in forever that the US won no medals. We’re sending serious hopes in women’s sprinting distances. Long track speed skating has basically poached every athlete they could from inline roller skating so many of our athletes are from Florida. The exception being in the women’s distance races we’re sending a nice Dutch woman with an American passport. She grew up in the Netherlands (the home of speed skating) with Dutch parents but she was born in the US and thus skates for us (because it’s really really really hard to make the Dutch National Team). I like her. She’s nice. Some Dutch fans hate her and send her twitter hate. On the men’s side we’re sending among others Shani Davis. NBC will hype him because he is one of the greatest male speed skaters in history but this is the twilight of his career and having watched the world cup races this year I’m kind of not putting any hopes there. This year they are introducing a new mass start race (long track speed skating is traditionally done against the clock). It’s going to be a big field and a bunch of skaters not really used to racing in a pack which should be … interesting.
In ice skating the American medal hopes are bronze in Ice Dance. We’re sending three teams all of whom could credibly take the bronze but none of whom are on the level of the French and Canadians for gold. We also have a serious contender in men’s single skating named Nathan Chen. He’s a jumping bean and is intending to land five of the most difficult jumps done in figure skating in the long program. When he’s good he’s amazing. Unfortunately he’s probably trying to do too many of those jumps so he … crashes a lot. That doesn’t mean he may not win anyway. Men’s figure skating has gotten very crashy lately because of all the quad jumping. Our women will come in somewhere 7-4th but aren’t medal threats. We shall not speak of pairs. There is a team event and the US will probably battle for a bronze. Again, not good enough for gold credibly. That will likely be fought out between the We Can’t Call them Russians™ and Canada.
We are bad at ski jumping.
We aren’t great at Nordic Combined (that’s ski jumping and cross country skiing mixed).
We have never won a medal ever in biathlon (that’s cross country skiing and rifle shooting combined).
In cross country skiing the American women (not the men) have developed themselves into a serious power. The strongest suit is the sprint races but they’re deep enough to do very well in relays.
In alpine skiing we have what might be the greatest female skiier in history on her hottest year in Mikaela Shiffrin. She’ll win medals. Several. I wont assume gold but she could credibly come away with three or more. Lindsay Vonn is also currently the greatest female skiier ever but she’s also very crashy. If she doesn’t crash she has a good chance of winning. But she’s in the twilight of her career and her body is held together with rubber bands and stubbornness. The American men haven’t got anyone to seriously compete. We have one Sochi gold medalist on the men’s side but his body isn’t what it was 4 years ago. There is a mixed team event and the men’s weakness will probably keep us out of the medals.
America is very deep in all the Snow board events. Probably the best bet though is in women’s half pipe with Chloe Kim. She could have potentially medaled in Sochi but she was too young to compete. She’s on another level than everyone else. Don’t go looking for Americans in the alpine snowboard event.
The US is also very deep in the freestyle skiing events that are similar to snowboarding and there may be podium sweep potential there. But don’t look for Americans in ski cross. We don’t really have anyone there.
Moguls skiing (that is going down a really bumpy hill and doing tricks off jumps) the American women are particularly strong. I wouldn’t be surprised if we medaled on the men’s side but gold there is locked up by a Canadian man who is just … not beatable.
Aerial’s skiing is like gymnastics vaulting with 20 pounds of stuff strapped to your feet. We’ve got good contenders on both men’s and women’s sides but it’s sooo easy to crash…
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