there's a lot to say about how house md treats women but I will say the show lets the women be way more complicated than some shows today

like yall still aren't ready for cameron

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 7

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

TW for this chapter: Suicide Attempt

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 7 - Panic in the Medicated Bath

Song Qingshi searched the warehouse all night and finally found old robes made of red ice silk. He dismantled the decorative formation above, handed it over to the valley servants, and asked them to modify them to look like inner robes overnight. Then, he quietly put them on the bedside of Yue Wuhuan along with the new cotton gown.

The next day, Yue Wuhuan was shocked when he saw this ice silk robe.

Song Qingshi has urged him up from outside the door: "Hurry up, let's go for a new treatment."

"Yes, Master." Yue Wuhuan knew that he had changed masters, so he didn't dare to think too much. He put on his clothes and went out in a hurry, feeling much more comfortable in this outfit.

Song Qingshi took him through the corridor and went to the alchemy room next door. This was originally a forbidden place in the Medicine King Valley. A place where the original body used animals and humans to experiment with various medicines. It was also the place where the valley servants were most afraid of entering. Song Qingshi complied with the "Declaration of Helsinki" and rejected any human experiment that violated ethics. Fortunately, when he took over being the Medicine Master, there were not many test items left by the original body. He immediately released what he could release and helped those that needed help, and then changed it to a treatment room. The remaining specimens and general teachers are placed in other rooms - these were the big treasures of medicine, and he would study slowly when he had some free time.

Yue Wuhuan was walking towards the alchemy room and found that more than one valley servants cast sympathetic glances his way, and he became a little nervous. After entering the alchemy room, when he saw Song Qing take out a medicine vat big enough to fit a person in, he became more paranoid.

Song Qingshi didn't notice his anxiety. He threw the various medicinal materials that had been counted ahead of time into the tank, then poured water and used the alchemical fire in his body to control the temperature. After the water in the tank turned red, he turned back and said: "Take off your clothes and get in."

Yue Wuhuan stood still, his eyes stiffened when he looked at him.

"Don't be afraid," Song Qingshi finally remembered that he had forgotten to explain. "The Prince’s Plume Expelling Decoction is a medicinal bath. It won't cause discomfort."

Yue Wuhuan hesitated for a moment before stretching his hand to the belt and untying it.

Song Qingshi turned around, sat down with his back to him, not peeking at him entering the bath.

Yue Wuhuan breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly removed his clothes, and stepped into the bloody medicinal water. The hot liquid medicine penetrated into the skin, causing a slight tingling sensation, but there was indescribable comfort. He took a deep breath, relaxed completely, and suddenly sank his whole person into the water. He didn't expect that the water would overflow because it was too full. It splashed on Song Qingshi’s neck, ears and hair. A pale red flower blossomed on his white robe.

For most Daoists, the robe was a very important thing and any damage would cause heartache.

Yue Wuhuan realized his mistake and sneaked out of the water quietly. He hid in the tank and peeked out, worried that he would offend Xianzun.

Song Qingshi didn't care what happened. He stared at the bluestone on the ground in a daze. After a while, he discreetly shook the water droplets on his hair.

Yue Wuhuan picked his words carefully and asked cautiously: "Master, will you turn around so that this slave can clean you?"

Song Qingshi lowered his head and looked at the bluestone more attentively: "You are bathing, you can't peek." In his world view, it was reasonable for doctors to check the patient's physical condition during treatment, but if the doctor peeks at the patient trying to take a bath, it was morally corrupt and shameless.

Yue Wuhuan pondered these words for a long time, and guessed: "Does Master dislike that this slave's body is too dirty?"

Song Qingshi shook his head and whispered: "You don't like being watched."

"Master jokes." Yue Wuhuan's eyes hardened, and he was silent for a moment, peeking out of the water. His long hair wet sat on his shoulders, just like a mermaid who just came out of the sea. His body was otherworldly, and his muscles were perfectly proportioned with no hint of fat. His waist was slender enough to be held with one arm, but there was hidden power inside. He leaned against the edge of the bath, approached Song Qingshi’s ear, blowing lightly. His phoenix eyes were extremely charming, the red tear-shaped mole was so gorgeous that it could charm people’s hearts, and his voice was as tempting as the devil. "What is there not to see on this slave's body? The people who have seen it. . . there were too many to count. They all say that the slave's body is very beautiful and defined, and it can stop a man in his tracks. It was made to be adored. . ."

Song Qingshi quickly interrupted him, repeating: "You don't like being watched."

After Yue Wuhuan watched him for a long time, he said hoarsely: "This slave doesn't care anymore."

Song Qingshi didn't know how to explain, but insisted: "You don't like it."

Can he refuse just because he doesn't like it?

Yue Wuhuan thought this was ridiculous. In the years when he was just sent to accompany guests, he was coaxed to say that he didn't like it and didn't want it. The result was only meant to find his weaknesses for their amusement.

He didn't like to be seen, so that meant he was forced to show the most unbearable postures to everyone in the square and at banquets time and time again.

He doesn't like saying those lewd things, so he was tortured by various drugs and instruments of torture until he learned to use his voice to add to the excitement. . .

Until he abandoned his sense of shame, gave up his dignity, and pretended to enjoy these things.

He had known for a long time that in the eyes of these stupid cultivators, he was just a beautiful toy, without emotions, existing just to be moulded into whatever his master wanted. He often wished that he could go mad and be stupid, like most slaves, and lose his ability to think. He could mindlessly live a dog-like life and using his body to please his master.

It's a pity that there was always a trace of clarity in his heart, coldly examining his embarrassing self, and then cutting him to pieces. . .

Maybe he had already gone crazy. . .

He couldn’t tell when the fire rose slowly. The temperature of the potion was getting hotter and hotter. Yue Wuhuan’s face also became hotter and hotter, but he couldn’t feel the scorching heat and dipped his head into the bloody-red potion until water flooded up his nose and he couldn't breathe. He didn't want to get up, hoping to just stay submerged forever so that the hot water could clean the filth off his body, preferably right down to his bones.

Song Qingshi noticed something was wrong from the quietness behind him. He turned his head and found that he had been distracted when they were speaking and did not control the Red Lotus fire well. The water temperature rose several degrees and it was so hot that Yue Wuhuan had disappeared beneath the surface of the water. Song Qingshi didn't move cautiously, got up and rushed over, reaching into the tank to get the person out.

The wet beauty was dragged into his arms. His eyes were closed and his limbs drooped feebly. His long curling hair clung to his fair skin, dripping onto the ground, making the Acacia Seal on his back shimmer. Song Qingshi's mind was clear. He quickly laid the person on the ground, confirmed he still had a pulse and started CPR.

Yue Wuhuan spit up water and opened his eyes. He was surprised to find that Song Qingshi’s face was so close to his. He could even see his own reflection in his clear, black eyes. Because of the heat from the tank, Song Qingshi's eyes were heated and red, with water droplets clinging to his long eyelashes. He looked like a naive and innocent boy, nothing like an ancestor of the Nascent Soul sect who had practiced for nearly a thousand years, deceiving and cheating death itself.

He hadn't recognized the other party's true identity by the river at the time. He had wanted to sympathize with a man who would never experience an unjust death.

Yue Wuhuan's thoughts became more and more chaotic. He curled up subconsciously, and all kinds of messy memories flashed in front of him. The tenderness in his chest and the remaining warmth on his lips made him a little confused between reality and his memories as if he had returned to when he was punished by his masters.

Scholar-Tyrant Song almost failed his class, so scared that his soul almost flew away. His movements were as fierce as a tiger, relying entirely on instinct. After Yue Wuhuan woke up, he breathed a sigh of relief. However, he realized that there were many ways to treat drowning in the world of cultivating immortals, and there was no need to use modern first aid at all.

He wouldn't be able to clearly explain this. . .

It was standard for medical students to perform CPR on a drowning victim. Regardless of whether it was someone beautiful or ugly, a child or an old man, he would do it without hesitation. Song Qingshi was a little embarrassed that he hadn't figured out the best first aid technique for the immortal world ahead of time, but he can worry about that later. He just had to figure out how to explain it.

Yue Wuhuan had lost the focus in his eyes. He slowly unfolded his body, no longer covering it up, like a fish that was forcibly dragged ashore to die, preparing to be slaughtered.

Song Qingshi quickly turned his face away, closed his eyes, and apologized honestly: "I'm sorry, I made a mistake with the temperature of the water."

"It's not Master's fault," Yue Wuhuan's eyes were open, but he couldn't make out anything around him. He was listening, but he couldn't understand what was being said. He repeated his standard answer, "It's my fault, it's my fault. . ."

This is the truth that he had paid a heavy price to learn and had been instilled in him over and over again, always reminding him how to live.

"Wuhuan, you are so beautiful, you were born to be played with."

"Wuhuan, it's your body that seduces men, so it must be abused."

"Wuhuan, it's because you are so aloof that it makes me not want to stop."

"Wuhuan, you are a monster born for sex."

"Yue Wuhuan, it's all your fault."

"Yue Wuhuan, it's all your fault."

. . .

"My fault, my fault, my fault. . ." Yue Wuhuan kept repeating numbly, "It's all my fault."

Because he was the wrong that existed in the world.

Song Qingshi took off his robe and put it on Yue Wuhuan, and suddenly realized that the mental state of the person in front of him was very fragile, as though he were caught in a terrifying trap. He thought for a while and gritted his teeth. He stretched out his hand to slap him but hesitated, so he got up and brought a bucket of cold water next to him. He used the freezing technique and poured it down suddenly over his head. Yue Wuhuan was shocked by the cold, and his mind cleared somewhat. Song Qingshi took the opportunity to give him the Tranquil Mind Spirit Calming Pill to take.

"Master?" Yue Wuhuan came to his senses, a little confused.

"It's okay." Song Qingshi took the towels and clothes he had prepared earlier, wrapped him up layer and layer like a dumpling, and then gave a rational explanation, "You were hallucinating because you almost drowned."

Yue Wuhuan nodded blankly.

Song Qingshi determined that he had wrapped the dumpling tight enough. He stopped, satisfied, and ordered: "Wear more in the future."

Yue Wuhuan looked at him and asked anxiously: "This slave can wear more?"

Song Qingshi eagerly educated him: "Autumn is coming soon. It's going to be cold. You must wear more to avoid catching a cold."

"Thank you Master for your pity." Yue Wuhuan responded softly as soon as he was sure that he was not toying with him. He clutched his clothes tightly. For some reason, he suddenly remembered that when he first entered Golden Phoenix Manor, he was forced to take off all his clothes and was reduced to being a plaything.

Now, this seemingly deceptive man had personally helped him put on his clothes piece by piece, as though he were trying to convince him of something. . .

Because the medicated bath had been interrupted, the effect had not been fully achieved.

Song Qingshi busied himself adding water to the medicine tank and re-adjusting the temperature.

Yue Wuhuan sat quietly on the ground watching him work for his sake, lost in thought. Suddenly, he later realized that the never-ending burning sensation in his body had died down. He moved his body slightly and was surprised to find that the sensitivity caused by drugs had also greatly decreased, and the friction of the cloth was no longer causing him discomfort.

He tried to find an answer, but couldn't understand it. He finally plucked up the courage to ask, "Master, what is the purpose of the Prince's Plume Expelling Decoction. . .?"

"Huh?" Song Qingshi stopped and froze for a while. He found that he had again fallen into the scholar-tyrant's bad habit. His mind was moving too fast. He always felt that others would understand as long as he gave a name or an answer, regardless of whether others were following his thoughts or not.

Song Qingshi was a good academic who knew how to accept his mistakes and correct them. He reorganized his words several times in his mind and chose the simplest explanation, "Your body has been corroded by many drugs, so it causes great discomfort. The Prince's Plume Expelling Decoction can be used to remove the drug residues in your body. This medicinal bath needs to be taken five times, and the last two times will be taken with Muscle Generating Flower and Snow Toad Cake added to help repair the old wounds. When that happens, it might be itchy and uncomfortable but we can't use anesthetics. Don’t worry, you just need to endure that stage, and the body will return to its original state. . ."

Song Qingshi couldn’t bear to say it: Those people didn’t care about whether Yue Wuhuan lived or died. All kinds of aphrodisiacs were used uncontrollably on him, causing conflicts of various drug properties in his body and residual excess. If the drugs had continued to be used, he wouldn't have made it another few years.

"I was overdosed on drugs. . . Yes, they thought I was boring," Yue Wuhuan wrapped his clothes tightly around his frame, reluctant to let go. He hesitated for a long time but decided to control the unwillingness in his heart and explain clearly what Song Qingshi would figure out sooner or later. He was so confused that he once again forgot how he was supposed to address himself, "Master, without the medicine, my body will not respond to men. You won't be able to find pleasure in me. I-I'm not used to those things, only with the help of drugs. . ."

Song Qingshi interrupted his incoherent speech: "Don't do things that make you uncomfortable."

"You don't need to be nice to me." The more Yue Wuhuan opened his heart, the more fear he felt. He was like a bewildered child, desperately saying, "I have nothing, the only thing I can give you is this body. . ."

Song Qingshi realized that he wasn't in a good emotional state right now and turned away. He knew he should do psychological intervention now, but the words in his heart that he had practiced thousands of times all disappeared the minute he opened his mouth. He couldn't say anything sweet and comforting. He was clearly extremely upset, but in the end, his thoughts could only be condensed into two words: "You have."

The Yue Wuhuan in his heart was the kid who had practiced his swordsmanship under the peach blossom tree, the boy who dreamt of becoming a cultivator with a mortal body.

The Yue Wuhuan he saw in his eyes was a soaring phoenix in the heavens, the brightest star in the night, but with its wings broken and covered in dust.

Song Qingshi walked step by step, firm in every step.

Yue Wuhuan tried to force himself to calm down, but he couldn't stop his body from trembling, and he wanted to retreat.

Song Qingshi squatted down on his knees and looked meaningfully into his eyes.

Yue Wuhuan felt that he couldn't retreat.

Song Qingshi promised word by word: "I will and return to you whatever you had before, and I will give you everything you want."

Yue Wuhuan's breathing became short. He still couldn't understand what this promise meant, but he understood the seriousness and determination in Song Qingshi's eyes. He asked carefully: "What do you need me to do?"

Song Qingshi asked: "Don't try to commit suicide again, okay?"

Yue Wuhuan thought for a long time and finally nodded.

FFVII and Xenogears - Cloud and Fei

So FFVII and Xenogears were in development around the same time. FFVII was released in 1997 and Xenogears was released in 1998. 

A lot of the Xenogears story elements were “discarded” FFVII ideas. Mainly due to the fact they were seen as too dark for a FF game. Makes sense... have you played Xenogears? 

**Major Spoilers for Both Xenogears and the FFVII Compilation**

This post will be about Cloud and Fei. I plan on also talking about the similarities in Jenova and Miang, the Highwind Scene vs. the SexiTime scene, and anything else I may think of randomly. Xenogears is still one of my favorite games of all time, and I actually think people may understand some of the themes in FFVII more if they played it or at least watched a playthrough of it. 

It is a T rated game, but it is definitely dark. 

Some major similarities for Cloud and Fei:

The main protagonist of each game has amnesia and severe mental health disorders. FFVII and Xenogears do take slightly different approaches. Fei has full blown Dis-associative Identity Disorder which manifests in a physical form. It’s very Freudian. The “bad” persona, is called “Id”. Cloud creates a persona based on experiences he’s had... except....

Fei did that too, partially. His was due to extreme childhood trauma due to being experimented on... As we know, Cloud’s is due to Hojo being a total piece of shit....

Yeah, they were both experimented on. Fei’s is a lot more disturbing because his mother had been possessed by the “first woman” from the skies... And was having him experimented on, forcibly, while awake. (Don’t worry, there’s gonna be a post about Jenova and Miang too.) Fei was around 3, I believe, when his mother was possessed by Miang and started doing this.

And his mother sacrificed herself in order to defend him... you know... Like Zack did for Cloud....

Fei watched his mother die in front of him just like Cloud watched Zack die in front of him. There’s also a major change in their appearance after it happens. Cloud closes his eyes at the end, opens them again, and hello, SOLDIER!Cloud. Fei’s hair will go in front of his face when he’s going to “turn in to Id.” You don’t know this until after towards the end of the game, when you realize it in Fei’s subconscious... Oh yeah...

You also have to go in to Fei’s subconscious and merge his multiple personalities he’s created... However, you do this on your own. Elly does not come with you, in fact she’s not even allowed to be in the party at this point, which will also be covered in another post.

Fei’s father is around, though, and he has attempted in the past to help Fei by building him up enough to be able to handle this and be able to see what Id needed to show him. 

Some of the differences, and areas where ideas “merged”: 

Fei’s Id persona is a mean kid. He says he wants to destroy everything, he does destroy a lot of stuff and he’s just mean. He even has lines similar to things Sephiroth would say to Cloud. 

There’s also the happy persona inside of here - the one prior to the experiments and Miang possessing his mother, and he’s up there in the videos talking about his most treasured possession, which is a memory of him playing with his mother. He wouldn’t allow Id to see it. 

Cloud’s persona is not as extreme in the differences. Cloud’s was somewhat medically induced due to the mako poisoning, Jenova cells, and just a ton of trauma. Fei’s was mostly built the way DID can normally pop-up, which is just pure childhood trauma. However, the Wave Existence (this game has a ton of blatant religious references, by the way), explains it VERY similar to how Cloud describes it about himself:

Fei and Elly reincarnate, so that’s a major difference here in terms of what they are talking about. Cloud’s is done to him directly, while Fei’s is due to some stuff that went on 10,000 years ago when everything happened on this world. The explanation during the entire scene in Xenogears is a lot to take in, but they do a very good job of explaining it. Yes, it’s still somewhat confusing, but I think because they used so much dialogue during this scene, you get a very good idea of what happened to the world, the Fei and Elly, and why things are they way they are.

Fei’s memories aren’t just from this life, but from ALL of his lives from 10,000 back to present. 

Fei has an interesting response to what the Wave Existence says... 

Fei is determined to get through this on his own. 

Hey Wave Existence, how come you didn’t go help Cloud out over in Advent Children? Would have been nice... Especially since Fei’s dad pretty much dies right after this is all over with. 

Personality wise, Cloud and Fei are pretty different, fake persona or not. Fei is mostly confident, somewhat social, and much more optimistic. The persona that you play as is a very normal guy. The persona that he turns in to that you don’t realize is trying to kill you randomly in the game... he’s just pure rage and evil.

Cloud, as we all know, under his persona tries to act cold and uncaring. His true personality is that of an awkward ham wrapped in a cinnamon bun. However, he is very caring and will save anyone - under either persona, it seems.

Fei will too. It’s just more “obvious” with Fei, since he’s out going. Id will not save you, he will kill you. He will even try to kill Elly. Id doesn’t give a shit, he’s a honey badger. 

If you’d like to watch the scenes where Fei explores what’s going on, you can watch them here:

Fei’s Mind Part 1

Fei’s Mind Part 2

I would absolutely recommend you wait to watch these if you haven’t played the game and want to, but if you want some more context on how things work with Xenogears, these would be interesting. Some of it may also be confusing unless you know some of the other stuff about the game, but they honestly do a pretty damn good job of giving you a breakdown.

Fun fact: The song that plays in Xenogears while you’re in Fei’s subconscious is called “The One Who is Torn Apart”. During Cloud’s subconscious journey, “Who Am I?” plays. You could ultimately put either song over either scene and it would get the same point across. Cloud’s is a bit more upbeat, but I’m going to see about doing that and how it impacts the emotion of the scene.

Adventures of Superman #505 (October 1993)

REIGN OF THE SUPERMAN! The Reign is over, and Superman does what we’d all do after being dead for several weeks and coming back to life: no, not visiting your parents, making out with Lois Lane.

Or more than making out, since the next page starts with a caption that says “Later...” and lets us know that they both had to take a shower. (NOTE: Check Don Sparrow’s section below for artist Tom Grummett’s definitive take on what happened in that scene.)

Their post-resurrection bliss comes to a stop when they remember a little detail: Clark Kent is still presumed dead. How are they gonna explain his return without making the extremely smart residents of Metropolis suspect that Superman and the guy who looks like Superman but with glasses are actually the same person? Superman’s mind immediately goes into “wacky bullshit excuse” mode and he starts spitballing ideas, like claiming Clark lost his memory, or was carried by underwater currents, or was abducted by aliens. Honestly, I’m pretty sure that last one would work, since there have been THREE major alien invasions in the past few years, but Lois thinks no one would be dumb enough to fall for that sort of thing. Really, Lois? No one?

At this point, Superman picks up some supervillain activity with his super hearing, so he gets dressed and goes there (though it would have been pretty intimidating for the criminals if she’d shown up in that shower rug). A bank uptown has been taken over by Loophole, a S.T.A.R. Labs accountant who stole a gizmo that allows him to phase through walls. When Superman shows up to arrest him and his henchmen (are they all villainous accountants?), Loophole literally puts his first through Superman’s chest, instantly killing him. RIP Superman, again.

Nah, Supes just swats Loophole away and breaks the gizmo, causing him to get his crotch area stuck inside a vault door. Now he has to change his supervillain name to “DickVault”.

(I freaking love Maggie Sawyer, btw.)

After that, Superman goes to one of the areas trashed by his fight with Doomsday and helps clean up the junk that’s still laying around there. It’s then that he finally reunites with his best friend and most valued ally: Bibbo Bibbowski. (Jimmy Olsen’s there, too, unfortunately.)

Bibbo also introduces Superman to the dog he named in honor of his home planet, Krypto -- and it’s Krypto who provides the most significant moment in this issue. The little mutt starts barking at some debris from a destroyed building, leading Superman to examine it with his X-Ray vision and find some kids underneath.

Turns out the kids had been trapped there since the Doomsday fight, leading some random passerby (fine, Jimmy) to wonder if Clark could be stuck in a similar situation. Superman and Lois look at each other... giving Superman an idea and providing the premise for next week’s issue.

Character-Watch:

First appearance of Loophole (real name Deke Dickinson, C.P.A.), who would become a running joke in Karl Kesel’s Superman and Superboy comics. While his phasing powers are tech based, he also has the metahuman ability to somehow convince attractive women to be his girlfriends/henchwomen despite being a balding little dweeb. In this issue he’s dating a blonde named Sheila (who wears a mask, so maybe she’s actually hideous), but I’m pretty sure he had other girlfriends in future issues.

Plotline-Watch:

As I said... holy shit, five years ago: no one draws Supes coming back to Lois after an extended absence like Tom Grummett. This scene is almost a remake of the one from that issue when Superman comes back from his time traveling jaunt. There’s also a callback to Man of Steel #25, when Lois hears a tap on her window and thinks it’s Superman, but it’s just some dumb bird. This time she gets it the other way around:

Don Sparrow says: “There’s a cute visual callback to the last time Superman returned after a long absence on page 18, when Superman is reunited with Jimmy. It’s a near identical pose to Action #643, where Superman returned from exile in space (and in that moment, infected Jimmy with Eradicator-based space sickness, womp womp).” I think he’s instinctively throwing Jimmy up in the air, hoping the cold of space will kill him. Unfortunately, both murder attempts were unsuccessful.

As seen above, Maggie Sawyer wasn’t too convinced that “Fabio” here was Superman at first. That changes when he calls her “Captain” even though she was recently promoted to Inspector, and she’s like “only a dead man wouldn’t know all the precise ranks for the local authorities!”

The surviving non-Supermen are seen arriving at S.T.A.R. Labs for medical care after the Engine City showdown. Don again: “There are some mild continuity issues stemming from Superman #82, which perhaps wasn’t completely finished being drawn while Tom Grummett worked on this one, as Steel’s costume is almost entirely intact, when we last saw it a week ago, it was in tatters. Ditto the Eradicator, who was a wizened husk, and now is apparently a scorched Ivan Drago.” Let’s assume Supergirl worked her clothes-shifting magic on Steel’s armor and the Eradicator’s, uh, hair.

There’s a short scene where Superboy is visited by his reporter pal Tana Moon, who tells him she quit WGBS and is leaving Metropolis. Awww. Goodbye, Tana. Or should I say... aloha?

Meanwhile, Lex Luthor Jr. has a scene with Dr. Happersen where he says he intends to control or destroy anyone who wears the “S” symbol. Basically, if he can’t date them, they should be dead. He also instructs Happersen to help Cadmus’ Director Westfield get in contact with disgraced genetician Dabney Donovan. Get ready for a whole lot of clone-related shenanigans in the near future.

And now, more Don Sparrow-related shenanigans after the jump!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

This issue is another favourite of mine, but I suppose all these issues around the Death and Return are faves when I really think about it.  My copy of this issue had the holographic fireworks cover, and it’s a good one.  I like that Superman and the Daily Planet are in natural colour, rather than holograms.  The cover credit goes Karl Kesel, Tom Grummett and Doug Hazlewood, so I’m not sure what the breakdown was (or if that’s just a handwritten cover credit, just in case?

The story opens with one of my favourite sequences ever, with Lois waking up on her couch, having fallen asleep following the events in Coast City.  I love the detail as she opens the curtain, we see her engagement ring, indicating she knows her real fiancée has returned.  This sequence is followed up by two pages of splashes of the passionate reunion of the best couple in comics.  All beautifully rendered as they float, locked in a passionate, sunrise kiss.  Just lovely (so lovely that I am willing to overlook a small colouring error, as Lois has black hair instead of reddish brown for one panel).  [Max: I can confirm that they fixed that in the collections.]

What follows is a very cute scene, and one of some debate among Superman fans.  There’s no overt evidence of what happened, all we get is a cryptic caption reading “later…”.   Again, I give credit for the subtlety of the writers, as they depict this scene in a way that can be read either way:  maybe Clark and Lois made love, and the “later” we are seeing is afterglow, or maybe Lois had a shower since she just woke up after sleeping in her clothes. Then, after calling his parents while Lois showered, Clark had a shower himself.  I feel like today’s writers wouldn’t feel the need to be so subtle, and might lose the sweetness of this scene.  

In previous posts, I’ve talked about my friendship with artist Tom Grummett, and how as a boy, I would wear him out with all my dumb fanboy questions.  Once I got older, and our relationship became a little more collegial (just a little closer to collegial, since I in no way consider myself anywhere near his level of skill or success) I would really try not to geek out too much when we would visit.  But the one question I had to ask was about this scene, and what their intention, or interpretation of it was, as I was always curious.  Once I had explained to him which issue it was (the guy has drawn hundreds, so they might not all spring to mind immediately!) he admitted that his assumption was indeed that they had sex.  So there you have it!  [Max: Hot damn! Another Superman ‘86 to ‘99 exclusive, folks!]

However you wish to read this scene, the choreography, and facial expressions as they horse around is really sweet and fun, and such a nice, light tone compared to the do-or-die pace the books had been for the last two years or so.   Their easy joking, and back and forth banter really do a great job of showing them as a real couple.

It’s a very nice pose on Supergirl as she lifts off, simultaneously spurning Superboy’s romantic complaints.

I quite like the design on Loophole, and his gang.  Loophole himself kinda harkens back to the silver age villains of the Flash as Loophole has a unique hairline, is an older man, with a pretty average build, which was rare for villains in the 90s. His gimmick is pretty cool, too, though we immediately see its vulnerability.

The tearful reunion of the now-sober Bibbo and Superman is also a great moment—if anyone rose to the challenge of living up to Superman’s example in his absence, it was Bibbo.  I discuss the scene in more detail in the observations later, but the image of Superman whipping away the debris on page 20 is a great visual, with the dust clouds creating great motion and urgency.

On the whole, a great first issue for the return to the never-ending battle, even if it brings us closer to Grummett’s last issue on this title (for a while).

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

Could Superman referring to the Death and Return storyline as a dream, while stepping out of the shower be a reference to Dallas, and their famous about-face after an unpopular season, where Bobby Ewing emerged from the shower, alive and well, dismissing a yearlong storyline as a dream?

A coy semi-reference to perhaps my favourite line in the first Reeve Superman film on page 8, where Supergirl says “Easy steel, we’ve got you, then later adding, “ok, you got me”.  

A little more issue-to-issue dissonance with Superboy reversing himself from the end of Superman #82, where he said clearly that Kal-El was Superman, with Superboy pointing out that legally, he’s Superman and not Kal. [Max: I think he’s talking strictly in the legal sense, since he helps Superman deal with the legal problem on the next issue and all.]

For all the times that Superman has used his heat vision on guns (as he does on page 11), we’ve never seen rounds get burned off, firing on their own because of the heat.  There might be an idea there.    

An odd sorta-cameo by Erik Larsen’s Savage Dragon, who Superman apparently defeats in the waterfront district. An eagle-eyed reader asked Larsen about it in issue #6 of Dragon’s own book, and he nixed any proper crossover rumours, saying it was just a shout-out from Larsen’s buddy Karl Kesel.  Eventually they’d meet in Superman/Savage Dragon: Chicago, a so-so crossover in 2002.

A slightly bawdy joke from one of the Loophole gang, on page 14, as the moll of Deke Dickson calls Loophole a “weiner”.  

GODWATCH: A stirring moment when Superman detects the faintest of life-signs, thanks to would-be super-pup, Krypto, and responds “God willing” when someone asks if anyone is alive in that wreckage.  The love and concern in Superman’s eyes when he says he’d “rather die” himself than let little ones perish is a tear-jerker moment for sure.  Bonus points for the cuteness of Superman heaping praise on Krypto, with the line “if that dog could fly, I’d put a cape on him…”

Question:  Does Jimmy know? He comes up with the solution to the Clark problem very conveniently.  Maybe he’s smarter than we (and by we, I mean Max) give him credit for? [Max: It was all Krypto! Okay, I’ll concede that maybe Jimmy is as smart as a dog.]

deservingporcupine said:                                                                                                                            Nooooooo what’s your favorite book?                             

OH BOY IS IT TIME TO TALK ABOUT ARCHIVIST WASP AGAIN YES IT IS

(you’ve unleashed a demon here my friend)

Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace is probably one of my top five favorite books ever, maybe even top three (and the top three isn’t ranked it’s just Really Good Books). It is constantly slept on. No one has read it. No one has even heard of it! Even though every element is fantastic and likens to a very popular series (in a “oh, you liked that bit? try this book!” way not in a derivative way). It is my life’s work to get people to read this book.

 I should put in a Read More because I am going to talk A LOT about it. But- if you like The Abhorsen Trilogy, His Dark Materials, the Hunger Games, Never Let Me Go, Station Eleven, Graceling, any mythology ever, ghosts, supersoldiers, post-apocalypse religion, or the struggle of to what extent you can define yourself versus others define you and the trauma of being both a monster and a savior, you’ll love this book.

-the premise. it’s post-apocalyptic fantasy which is a niche I absolutely love. basically, the world ended generations ago, and no one really knows why or how. but humanity lives in little isolated town-states around the edge of this giant irradiated wasteland. and since the end of the world, ghosts exist.

-after the collapse (and I’m going to talk a lot about the collapse BUT it’s worth noting that the story of the end of the world isn’t a major-major part, like the book is concerned both with looking back and looking forwards, but the story is much more intimate and focused on Wasp and her world rather than The World At Large) this new constellation-based religion popped up. it’s completely unique and AMAZING and integrates so well into the world that you forget you’re still learning about it.

-Wasp was raised by the Catchkeep (what we call Ursa Major) priest. he’s this skeevy old man who raises young girls and every year they fight to the death for the honor of being the Archivist. Wasp is the current Archivist! which is absolutely terrible for her, but the only way out is to die, and the only way to survive is to kill the upstarts.

-the Archivist’s job is to protect the town from ghosts. ghosts can get really angry and mean! and then, to record the ghosts, and watch them and categorize them, in hopes that one of them will reveal how the world ended

-(lemme talk about ghosts for a hot sec. ghosts in this world are basically repeating memories- they’re not really “people”. when you die, your ghost might return, to constantly play out its last moments, but you aren’t aware of the world, you’re not really sentient. ghosts who died violently can become violent, hence the Archivist’s banishing rituals. there has never been a ghost that can talk, so no one has been able to ask the ghosts how the world ended. the theme of repetition, identity, and relation to the world that is inherent in the concept of ghosts is SUPER CENTRAL to the plot and woven so well in.)

-Wasp’s job is really sucky, because she’s incredibly valued by the people of Sweetwater, but she’s also feared and hated. she is kept apart from them, and is basically only ever allowed to interact with the Catchkeep Priest, but she survives on the offerings the people leave outside her door being they are grateful to her for keeping the ghosts away and also terrified of her for being so close to them. this theme- valued monster, monster created and maintained by a society, is central to the book, and I know you’re like “okay, yeah, that’s a theme of a lot of books do, whatever” but the nuance and depth here is incredible.

-Wasp, naturally, wants to escape the Catchkeep Priest, but again, irradiated wasteland, everyone is afraid of her, she has nowhere to go. Wasp is very explicitly a trauma and abuse victim/survivor, and she has guts and bravery without overlooking that or pretending that one cancels out the other.

-Wasp’s entire life is turned upside down when she finds a ghost that can TALK. like, recognize its surroundings, recognize her, and talk to her. like I said, that’s NEVER HAPPENED. completely unprecedented.

-the ghost (who doesn’t have a name) explains that in his old life, he was a soldier. and that he had a comrade, Kit Foster, who died as well, and that he’s trying to find her ghost, so that they can survive the underworld together. he wants Wasp’s help. in return, he will get her away from the Catchkeep Priest.

-lemme talk about the ghost because he is a completely tragic figure in such a compelling way. ghosts get weaker and weaker the longer they’re dead, and he’s been dead a long time. he doesn’t remember most of his life. he doesn’t remember his own name. he remembers that he is a monster, in a way that directly parallels Wasp, because they’re both created soldiers people are afraid of but also need, but while Wasp has the chance to go forwards and grow, he’s dead, he can’t. ghosts are incredibly stagnant.

-he wants to find Kit because he’s forgetting who he is. he hopes that if he finds her, they can remind each other of who they are. when the underworld decays them, they can pull back and remember each other. remember the theme I said about defining yourself versus others defining you, and how it plays into the idea of an important monster? yeah here it is again!

-let me say really explicitly though: I know what you’re thinking. Wasp and the ghost are going to hook up. Mild spoiler but worth knowing: THEY DO NOT. yeah you heard me. Kit and the ghost aren’t romantic either. this is a book about trusting other people enough to know and define you when you can’t and IT DOESN”T HAVE ROMANCE. platonic, important, deep and trusting relationships, boyos! I care so much about this.

-so the trip through the underworld. the underworld is such an amazing setting here. the closest thing I’ve read is His Dark Materials underworld, full of ghosts and emptiness. it’s an expanse of old flotsam of memories and it’s always trying to destroy you. Wasp and the ghost have to wade through this place, trying to figure out what does and doesn’t belong to them.

-Wasp, as the Archivist and wielding a special ghost sword, is able to enter the memories of the ghost. specifically, the memories that he has forgotten. doing this is killing her, but she’s already in the underworld, so... the book switches between Wasp and the ghost’s journey through Hades and flashbacks to the ghost’s childhood with Kit Foster, as medical experiments and supersoldiers in a world-ending war. you start to realize that the ghost thinks he betrayed Kit, but can’t remember how.

-look, it’s just incredibly. the themes are woven into everything, the parallels between Wasp and the ghost are superb, the symbolism is constant without being heavy-handed. you’re reading a really engaging story, not an essay about identity with some story trappings, it doesn’t get preachy, it’s just really well done. Wasp and the ghosts are both realistic, flawed, hurting characters trying to imagine some kind of ending for themselves. this book sneaks up on you with how painful (in the good book way!) it is to read. and then the ending! I’m not gonna say anything! I won’t! But the ending!

-the sequel (which is the book I lost, RIP) does the Really Great Sequel Thing where it continues the themes and struggles without invalidating the progress the characters made in the last book. it also confirms what was hinted at in the first book, which is that Wasp is a woman of color, and so that’s neat. she’s also a realistic example of someone with PTSD and chronic pain. plus: still no romance, still incredibly important and complete platonic relationships. and you learn more about other towns and the gods!

-I will say, on first reading, the writing style took me a sec to adjust to. Wasp’s POV (it’s third person, but completely centered on her viewpoint) has the blind spots and anger that you’d expect from first person, and it can be weird to adjust. it’s also very jerkily written, which sounds like an insult, but it’s not, it absolutely works with Wasp’s voice and the setting, but it takes a few chapters to click with your brain.

-have I dressed up like the Archivist for Halloween? oh you fuckin bet I have.

I am Bisexual

I am a black, bisexual ciswoman dating a white, straight cisman, and the fact that he is male and straight are not the reason I am dating him, nor are they a reason NOT to. Pretending though, that his labels don’t factor into who he is as a person would be completely idiotic. 

At the end of the day, though, we are dating because we share similar values, we are compatible in multiple ways, we respect each other, and we love each other and are committed to making this work. It is true, that as a straight man, he wouldn’t be open to dating me if I were a man, but it is also true that if I were a man, certain aspects of my personality would change, due to a complex combination of nature and nurture that scientists still haven’t figured out.  

Also, there are people from both our “communities” (said very loosely) that aren’t down with “The Swirl” which is only something you get to celebrate if you are extremely privileged and quite a bit into eugenics. We each have racist people in our families, and we both get dirty looks on the street when we’re together for different reasons, but hatred is always at the core of the discrimination. 

Loving vs. Virginia was passed in 1967, and it is important to note that The Lovings wanted to be left alone and to live in peace, even though their marriage wasn’t recognized by law and it was a crime, even for white women, to give birth to interracial children. The Lovings only took their case to court when they faced racialized harassment. 

To me, it is absolutely terrible that in roughly 10 years, we went to celebrating “love is love” to now criticizing people for who they choose to date or how they identify. I can’t tell you how many times on this site I’ve seen bisexual women pressured to identify as pansexual to be “less discriminatory” or told in disgusting tones, “Why date men if you can choose to date women?” as if bisexual and/or lesbian were just things you can turn on and off like a light switch. 

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the rise of radical feminism and AFAB-nonbinary/transmasculine culture has coincided with poorer mental health for women in our community and also with a HUGE uptick in misandry and biphobia. Even gay men aren’t above being “canceled” for so-called “transphobic” caricatures of women, even though men have been playing women in the theatre for centuries, and now, women can play men, too. #Progressive  

Honestly, one thing I will say that guys do better than us women (in general, there are always exceptions) is comedy. Yes, men, as a a general rule, are funnier than us. Men are more likely to make fun of themselves, us, and other people, with no mercy, and I honestly think the women/AMAB non-binary in our community-- either the black or the LGBTQ+ one, take your pick-- need to learn to take a fucking joke. It’s not that fucking serious, but the one thing that ISN’T funny is the hideous biphobia, racism, and backbiting I’ve witnessed online and offline this year. 

What makes it even more disgusting, is that while I am including AMABs in my roast, I have actually seen MULTIPLE stories of AMABs being excluded from AFAB offline gatherings (DOCUMENTED ON THIS HERE VERY SITE) in the name of “safety” because they are seen than nothing more than a man in a dress. 

So, here’s where I lose some subscribers...if a so-called “man in a dress” is unwelcome in your circles, do you REALLY think you have room to fucking talk when a huge portion of you you skirt the line between male and female because you can’t accept your own femininity? So really, are you really “non-binary” or are you just a scared little girls who can’t grow up?

Of course, that isn’t ALL of you, but when the country (as pointed out by J.K Rowling) sees a 4400% in female to male transition (a lot of it with very young girls becoming AFAB/non-binary, many of whom are taking testosterone) while male to female transition rates remain UNCHANGED, suddenly this isn’t a “trans” or a “non-binary” problem, this is a FEMALE problem. Trans people, prior to this huge upswing, made up less than 1% of the population, and that included MtF and FtM transition rates. These rates had remained steady FOR YEARS, so from a purely mathematical perspective this uptick is a huge statistic anomaly. 

For years people on the Right have decried the so-called “feminization of boys”, when in reality the “masculinization of girls” is statistically a far more pressing societal issue. 

I didn’t want to get this harsh, but this is concerning as a medical health issue, especially because research from the Scientific American reports that lots of young women who report having gender dysphoria end up not being dysphoric about their gender at all, but uncertain about their sexuality [click link]. If I had a quarter for every time a girl who never felt comfortable with her femininity or identified as asexual or aromantic turned out to “just be gay/bisexual” then I would be pretty fucking rich. 

I felt the same way. I felt like I was “Not Like Other Girls” and even though I never felt like a man, I often didn’t quite feel like a woman. It turns out that bisexuality, especially in women, corresponds with certain personality traits (aggression, assertiveness, high sex drive) that have been “coded male.” Gender bias in medicine is still responsible for why we don’t have more studies on lesbian and bisexual women, or on women IN GENERAL. As someone who is concerned about women’s rights and the safety of young girls and women, I think it is a HUGE DEAL that modern medicine still sometimes operates on the false assertion that women are just men without dicks and added baby-hosting parts. The effects of testosterone have been heavily studied, but there is SO much we don’t know about estrogen, including why different amounts of it don’t factor into PMDD, PMS, and other reproductive issues, as much as certain women’s brains and bodies responding to it DIFFERENTLY for reasons not fully understood. 

To make matters worse, while disparities in treatment based on race are less marked in other areas of medicine, black women still die in childbirth-- especially in the Southern U.S.-- at much higher rates than other demographics. Bisexual and lesbian women are also more likely than straight women to fear childbirth, which can be a huge source of anxiety for us. Even if we choose to undergo it, our anxiety is often downplayed by health care workers. This fear of childbirth can be seen even in bisexual and lesbian women who love children and strongly desire to be mothers. This, as well as the cost of surrogacy/IVF treatments, has been a reason that same-sex female couples often opt for adoption. 

Bisexual women, in particular, are also more likely to suffer mental health conditions and be the victims of male-perpetrated domestic violence than straight women and lesbians are. “Straight-passing” doesn’t really seem to provide a shield from that, I hate to tell you. 

The very concept of calling someone out for “passing” in an attempt to insult them actually reeks of jealousy and amazing privilege. In the case of bisexual people, it assumes that hiding an entire facet of our identity doesn’t matter and doesn’t take an emotional and psychological toll, because we can “choose” an opposite sex partner. This ignores the fact that falling in love isn’t based on choice, and that the moment we pursue a same-sex partner, we still have to “come out” if we want to maintain a healthy, open relationship with them. 

In the case of trans individuals, it assumes that “passing” erasing the fact that you have biological differences (such as typically being unable to parent children) from cis people that might make you undesirable to certain partners. Also, if you are also “stealth” you risk the chance of experiencing discrimination and/or violence if your identity is “discovered.” 

As far as being “white/European passing” this also does not erase the genetic and geographical ties you have to your ethnicity and/or country of origin. It doesn’t change the fact that if people start making racist comments about any of your racial demographics, it still hurts, even if you try to hide it. 

Why I’m okay with people knowing I’m transgender

Firstly, I want to start off by saying that if you’re trans and for your own comfort and safety you don’t want to be “outed” that’s 100% understandable and you should not feel bad about that. We all need to move at our own pace when discovering our social limits and confidence. My journey will have not been the same as yours. I live in Colorado, a state that is fairly trans friendly and am a trans man, meaning I’ve most likely had a safer time than I might have elsewhere. Trans women have it especially difficult, and if you feel unsafe in a situation that’s up for you to gage. It doesn’t make you less valid or a coward or anything like that.

Just know that I’m writing this for you and other trans/nb folks. I want our choices to transition to feel like the right one, even when people who don’t understand are making you second guess.

Context:

From the time I was 16-23, I was immensely depressed. I dropped out of highschool because of an immense disillusionment for the future. Primarily, I believed I didn’t have one. I’d always been bad at school, so collage was out of the question. I thought I was too ugly to get married and so that traditional Mormon thing my mother specifically had impressed upon me, which was having kids obviously. Most people disliked me because at the time, I had an extremely aggressive and compulsive attitude thanks to being absolutely lost emotionally. I hated my body and my mind and was convinced the things I despised could never change.

Ironically, one of the thorns in my side was how I always wanted to be a man instead. I recall coming home from school some days and just curling up in bed and sobbing about it.

“If I was a boy, people wouldn’t make fun of my ugly ass body.” Something I felt primarily about my chest. Once I strangled a kid for pointing out my bra strap through a white shirt. No joke. I was volatile and pissed all the time because of dysphoria. Comments about being feminine quite literally triggered me growing up. Every violent fight I remember growing up was caused by someone making fun of me in relation to female gender.

Despite this problem being so obvious, my religious parents took me to Mormon operated therapy. The suggestions I was given by councilors was typically “Have you tried praying about it?” Or “Are you going to Young Women’s every Sunday?” For those of you who don’t know, in the LDS church, they separate Sunday school for age groups based on gender. In particular, they forced all girls to wear dresses.

Having that identity forced on me every Sunday against my will from a very young age caused me to resist in aggressive attitude. Hit a kid in the face with my bible bag once for telling me I should be in the kitchen.

Another unfortunate side effect of the Mormon upbringing was literally not knowing that trans people even existed. I recall seeing trans people (like with waiter we had once) and being a little perplexed but not too bothered. But no one had ever explained the concept to me until much, much later.

After I had dropped out, a friend of mine came out and at the time the concept was alien. I’d spent so much time in my life trying to choke down any hope of being a guy because of religion it seemed impossible to even change genders. But then a mutual friend between me and my trans one (who is now my roommate) explained to me in a car ride I still remember vividly about what testosterone does to your body. Bit of a side note, but the ‘micro phalus’ thing was something I straight didn’t believe and OH BOY LMAOOOO.

Anyway, with that information now tumbling around on my mind... I accepted my friend and continued to ignore my obvious feelings!

Life marched on. I sunk in to gaming addiction, depression, and repression. I think I first tried to kill my self when I was 20 years old. I had quit my job thanks to a car crash I got in to and sunk in to doing absolutely nothing but playing MMOs for months. Eventually I just convinced myself there was no possible way my life could anything meaningful or productive. I had a fairly unhelpful stay in a mental hospital. I got out, got a job at the Denver zoo as a janitor.

I coasted for a few years there. That job taught me a lot. People skills, how to work hard, how to care about the future... And one of my coworkers was a trans man. We didn’t talk much about his transition. Mostly we just talked about cool things at work and how shitty customers were.

I think that kind of interaction was so important to me. To everyone, him being trans was just natural. No one cared and he seemed pretty happy.

With that information I started to do a bit of research on my own. I’m not sure how many months of consideration I had before coming out subtly to my current roommate in a car.

At the time, pondering coming out to everyone around me and having to confront my body every day in mirrors I cleaned for a living became a sort of hell. I worked the 4am shift and had no one to talk to for the entire duration of my work day, leaving me with lots of time to watch videos and think. I mean I mentally battled myself to the point I was in a lot of pain. So I started taking pain killers, mood stabilizers, drinking, and smoking weed in excess. Since I worked in the dark alone, no one would know how fucked up I was. The primary wrench in me finally accepting my own needs was again that feeling of hopelessness. The process of transition seemed so intimidating. It’s expensive. It will take effort. What if I fuck this or that up?

Early 2017, I tried to kill myself again after months of tormenting myself. I remember when they put me in the ICU and asked for my name, I told them Mike instead of my now dead name. The nurses asked if I had a pronoun preference and I just couldn’t say anything at all. But the chart whiteboad hanging on the wall in front of my bed said “Mike’s”. Everyone who came to visit me saw this. In a way, I had forced myself to come out. My stay in the mental hospital provided the same information as the last, but this time I was more ready to accept it.

One of the exercises we did was write plans for the future. Before, I had left it blank. But this time? I had goals. One of them was to come out officially in a far less destructive fashion. My dad seemed to accept it but not fully support. Due to family tensions that were somewhat unrelated to coming out, I ended up moving out in Late September 2018.

Soon everyone in my personal life knew. I got laid off with my entire department at the zoo. I remember coming out to some of my coworkers based on how religious they were the last day. My next job, I introduced myself as Mike and even got a name tag.

At the end of 2018 I started on hormones after a battle to get ahold of a doctor. Since then, I’ve been a lot happier.

I’ve lost over 100lbs and started working out.

I’m currently working the highest paying job I’ve ever had.

I’m living in an apartment with people I really care about.

The people I keep around me accept my pronouns and are proud of me coming out.

I’ve grown a mustache I love so much I can’t bare to shave it.

The power of self actualization

In every respect, coming out and presenting myself in exactly the way I want to has improved my life. For me that included medically transitioning. It’s like I finally have something to look forward to. All the little changes make me excited and more confident in what I like every day.

Even minor things like clothing are now these exciting vehicles of self expression. I never used to buy things I liked since my parents controlled what I was and was not aloud to wear. And even when I got my own money, those standards forced upon me by Mormonism held me back. Every pay check has more meaning when I’m replacing the old life that I hated so much. I seriously love this tiger shirt I got.

I’m proud to tell people I’m trans because finally admitting to myself has improved my life and mental health and unimaginable degree. I went from wanting to die basically at all times to having excitement for what comes next. I’m enjoying activities that I never would have before. Going to gay bars and dancing has been so enriching for me and I absolutely never would have done that before when I was all angry and bristly.

Being trans can be such a possitive experience. It’s freedom. It’s being able to live your life comfortably.

I know there are a lot of people who don’t understand or don’t want to because of their upbringing... and if you are one of those people who managed to read all this, please know they if you’re anti-trans, you’re anti-freedom of expression, anti-mental health, and anti-social.

Coming out was like removing a clog from my life. I’ve FINALLY been able to start living. And that’s something I want people to know about me. I felt dead before I changed my name and pronouns.

By the way. I’m Mike. He/him. 25. And I’m not going to try and kill my self ever again because I’m enjoying my big trans life.👌

Justice Society of America #3

In this issue: old guys versus monkey monsters! I don't know how this issue didn't win a Harvey.

This comic book might have won a Harvey. What am I? Wikipedia? An adult capable of doing research? No, I'm a lazy, cynical, piece of shit who purports to be a comic book critic but who really just uses the medium as a confessional. And most of my confessions are lies to make me sound cooler than I really am! Which is still pretty cool, actually. This issue begins with an old guy stowing away on an Ultragen train car while suffering from sever cramps or possibly even a heart attack.

Is this a super hero comic book or an Alfred Hitchcock movie?

Now that I'm an older man (not old! Just older!), I don't fetishize old men like I did when I was five. But I'm guessing, at 21, I still had a bit of that zest for old man content. What else could drive me to purchase ten issues of this comic book about old men whose glory days are long past but they keep trying to relive them as their wives sit at home rolling their eyes? The stranger stumbles into Doctor Mid-Nite's offices. I guess he's named that because his medical practice stays open all night? The man has something wrong with his stomach. Judging by the strange colored splotches all over his clothing, I'd say he ate too much chili. Or he's bleeding out from a gut shot. Both are probably pretty painful but I can only speak for one. You'd be surprised which one. No you wouldn't. I was just trying to sound cool again. The mystery man from the end of the last issue was Johnny Quick and, judging by how much I'm now yawning and how my head keeps nodding forward, I'd like to apologize for claiming that revealing his identity would have been more exciting and sold more of the third issue. Len was right to conceal his identity. While the Justice Society were keeping Ragnarok from happening, Johnny Quick got a gig endorsing nutritional supplements on late night television infomercials. He was laughed at by scientists when he tried to figure out why his nonsense formula made him so fast. They were all, "You know that's idiotic, right? We can do actual science tests to find out why you're fast. It's probably the Meta(l)gene, you know?" But Johnny didn't want to hear their scientific mumbo-jumbo (which might make him an ignorant jerk in our world but he lives in the comic book world where science can't explain everything and I sometimes why it even bothers to try to explain anything. I mean, X-ray vision? The power of flight? Helmets that grant magic powers by possessing the wearer with an ancient Great Old One of Order? Batman visiting heaven and Constantine visiting Hell? It's like an Anti-Vaxxer's dream reality come true). Instead, Johnny decided to visit a bunch of religious kooks who deal in utter nonsense every day. Unlike the scientists who needed proof and evidence of how his power worked, they were happy to say things like, "Oh, yeah! Your formula is a magic mantra that focuses your chi!" and "It's a message from God to grant you magic speed powers for being such a morally upstanding human being!" and "What exactly do you want to hear and how much will you pay me to hear it?" So after realizing that his super power came from believing in himself, Johnny Quick decided to tell everybody else to believe in themselves too! Did he invent The Secret? Because, as a narcissist, I understand why The Secret is so compelling! Doesn't everybody want to believe that they themselves are the reason all the best things happen to them and also want to believe that everybody who is poor or sick or devastated by random tragedy did it to themselves like big dumb suckers who just weren't strong enough to believe in themselves?! Obviously the only reason I didn't fall out of a tree and die when I was twelve years old was because I believed so strongly in myself and not because I was just another lucky asshole who somehow survived childhood. That's enough about Johnny Quick for the entire ten issues of this comic book that I own. I'm never fucking mentioning that jerk again. I don't care if he becomes super important to the plot! I'm erasing him from history right now! Although I'll probably still discuss Jesse Quick when she turns back up because she's hot. Oh what the hell. One last parting shot at Johnny!

Maybe if you spent less time trying to find the secret to your nonsense formula and more time trying to find Libby's clitoris, you'd still be together! By the look on Ted's face, I bet he could have helped!

Doctor Mid-Nite arrives to let everybody know that their favorite jazz musician died in his arms last night because he was too blind to save him. Probably. But what he discovered was that the man, Reggie, had signed up to become a test subject for Ultragen! He was locked away with a bunch of half-man, half-animal creatures as Ultragen searched for a drug that could make people youthful again. Apparently what the writer is saying is that corporations are the new Nazis. Maybe that's why I bought ten issues of this comic book! Because I was all, "Yeah! This analogy is so apt! Fucking corporations think they can get away with whatever they want! Where's my current girlfriend so I can mansplain this shit to her?!" I don't want to get too cynical here but what else am I supposed to do when a comic book asks me to just buy into this whole Doctor Mid-nite thing. So he goes blind when a grenade goes off in his face. But he discovers he can still see in the dark because, you know, fuck you and comic books and all that shit. We've already established that science doesn't live here. But I don't have a problem with that! Okay, great! So he can see in the dark but not in the light. His reaction to this is, "I should use this new power to fight crime! I just have to wait until a bank robbery happens in the middle of the night with a new moon perpetrated by a bunch of robbers who forgot their flashlights and whiz bang! I'll have the advantage!" I know, I know! He invents dark glasses so he can see while pretending to be blind. I guess that helps him catch muggers who prey on blind people. And then he created smoke bombs which are conceivably his best idea, creating pockets of dark where he would have the advantage against the criminals. But it's not like his eye-sight based super powers gave him the ability to fight well or gave him invulnerability in case of a lucky shot in the dark or allowed him to protect other people at the scene of the crime from stray bullets fired wildly out of the area of effect of his smoke bomb! Doctor Mid-Nite's whole deal is so implausible that it breaks even my capacity for disbelief while reading super hero comic books. It simply makes me think, "This guy sounds like a bad idea from a desperate writer looking for another big super hero hit." Which is what it was! Which is why it breaks the entire comic book! I'd be okay if it simply made me think, "This guy's an idiot with a dumb idea! It's going to get him killed! Ha ha! That'll probably be funny!" While Doctor Mid-Nite is conferring with the Justice Society about what to do with Ultragen, Ultragen is raiding the his free clinic. Luckily Johnny Thunder just happened to be stopping by, probably to get a check-up on his genie. He gets shot and his genie appears to help when a young girl comes up and is all, "Oh hey! I recognize that genie! It's a Badnesian Hex Bolt!" And the genie is all, "Yes, I am! Do you want me to inhabit you for awhile so I can get rid of this old guy (who isn't that old for some reason? Probably a reason that has to do with me living inside of him?)" I just feel like, with Jesse Quick appearing earlier, this series is headed toward creating a younger JSA so the older members can simply fall into the role of mentors. The Atom, Wildcat, and Doctor Mid-nite head off to investigate Ultragen's experimental laboratory and they make a discovery that causes me to literally kill myself because I was too stupid to call it.

This is Grunion Guy's assistant Pickle Boy. I think I'm supposed to make a naughty joke caption here? Like, um, "What is that guy's pee-pee doing inside that kangaroo?!"

Justice Society of America #3 Rating: Does anybody know how to get blood out of shag carpeting? Also, if a person's will is found written on used tissues (hopefully for his nose), is it legally binding because I don't want to inherit this blog and all of its debt.

Chapter 21 -- The Dossier

[Missed earlier chapters? Go catch up here! Otherwise, welcome back! Oh, and make sure to join our discord server! Chapter can also be found @ ao3”]

“So, before we start, what did we end up doing with the, uh,” Ariadne asked as the crew filed into the briefing room, “gift from our new friend?”

“The what?” Sweettalk asked.

“The head,” Sasha replied.

“Ah,” Sweettalk said, “don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, boss.”

“Noted,” Ariadne conceded, “Spacebreather, would you care to catch the crew up on what we learned from Prescott’s dossier?”

Spacebreather nodded. “Our target is The Zealot, and we now know his true name to be Dr. C. Alexander Simon. Archival photos of him match up with the photo we received from La Pesadilla, and our friend ViLaz.” Spacebreather jerked her head in the general direction of a visibly distraught ViLaz. “Much of this information concerns ViLaz directly, so for the sake of her privacy, we will only be sharing details which she has agreed to disclose publicly. Everything else will be kept absolutely need-to-know.”

ViLaz seemed barely able to hold herself together. Tears were welling up in her eyes, which would have come as a surprise to anyone who was paying close attention to her eyes, since one of them was synthetic and no longer should have had the ability to produce tears.

Spacebreather continued, “ViLaz has been raised to believe that Dr. Simon is her biological father. Technically this is true, but not in the sense you’d expect. He is, in fact, her sole biological donor. According to Prescott’s dossier, ViLaz is one of three genetic identicals produced from Dr. Simon’s DNA.”

“So, she’s a clone?” Taryn called out.

Spacebreather wiggled her hand noncommittally. “See, that’s what I said too, I don’t really understand it, but… Ariadne?”

“Well, yes and no,” Ariadne explained. “For lack of a better term, the process used to create them could be described as ‘cloning,’ but it’s important to note that she while her DNA was taken from Dr. Simon, she does not seem to be genetically identical to Dr. Simon himself.”

ViLaz flinched at this.

Ariadne continued, “Prescott’s intel tells us that Dr. Simon’s area of expertise before his theories were discredited and the controversy surrounding his experiment forced him to retire in disgrace was the search for a way to induce biological immortality in humans or, failing that, maintain continuity of consciousness.”

Spacebreather restrained herself from smiling. “And when you finally get her to translate that from nerd, what you basically get is that he wanted to either find a way to make you live forever, or to put your brain in a new body.”

Sweettalk’s hand shot up.

Spacebreather pointed at her. “Not a classroom, ask your question.”

“That doesn’t sound all that controversial, I mean,” she said, “That just sounds like basic medical stuff. Sasha’s whole shtick is cheating death, right?”

“The concept is not what was controversial. The methods, on the other hand…” Ariadne began, glancing over to ViLaz, who was silently crying and hoped no one would notice. Everyone collectively decided to pretend they didn’t, and Ariadne continued, “he was spearheading a project that would allow a dying person to save their consciousness and memories to computer, and then, using the indoctrination tech we learned about from La Pesadilla, eventually download that mind into a new body. In order for the transplant to take, the body would have to be a close blood relative, and it wouldn’t do any good to have the new body die from the same thing as the old one, so the goal of the experiment was to create a genetically engineered clone designed to withstand whatever killed them the last time.”

“Rumor has it, Dr. Simon is not well,” Spacebreather said flatly, “some kind of terminal genetic condition that killed his father, and grandfather, and great-grandfather, and all of his relatives born with a Y-chromosome, in their 40s. Based on ViLaz’s recollection, that’s about how old our Zealot would be right around now. Our belief is that he continued his experiments after he was forced to retire, hoping to create a new host body that wouldn’t fall ill like his original body.”

“Hoping to create, as our Dossier calls it,” Ariadne paused, “a Viable Lazarus.”

The crowd murmured in shock and, again, collectively pretended to not notice ViLaz crying.

“Dear lord,” Sasha whispered, “ViLaz, I’m so—”

“Don’t call me that!” She spat back.

“I’m sorry,” Sasha said quietly, and backed off.

“My visions of the Red God always told me that I was to be his vessel in the material world,” ViLaz explained, wiping her tears off on her sleeve, “he said that my father’s body was too weak and infirm, and that he needed a strong healthy vessel to carry his word to the people.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ariadne said, “the whole time you knew you were being used as an… an organ farm?!”

“The Red God told me I was to be his prophet,” ViLaz replied. “It just all seems a little too coincidental, if the Red God spent all those years telling me to give up control of my body, and now I find out my father created me as a host for himself. It’s… blasphemous that he would use an ancient and beautiful religion just to manipulate people like this.”

There was a fairly stunned silence through the entire hall, which is more or less to be expected whenever someone’s religious beliefs, or lack thereof, suddenly become a central fixture in a conversation where they were not expected. Of course, in most situations, it would simply be a matter of opinion, and most people would simply let it slide rather than get into a theological debate that no one could ever possibly definitively win.

Ariadne had two reasons for not letting this particular statement slide. The first was that she was a very passionate Atheist, and unfortunately had a rather nasty habit of being somewhat condescending when discussing it, especially towards those who still subscribed to the religion she practiced as a young girl. The second, and the much more important reason was that ViLaz’ statement about her religious beliefs was objectively, factually incorrect.

“V— Sugar …” Ariadne caught herself before using the name that would remind ViLaz of her father’s machinations, and knelt down to meet her gaze, “first of all, people have been using religion to manipulate people since the first caveman found a rock to worship. Second, I hate to break this to you, but the Red God cul— church— is not an ancient religion.”

ViLaz looked confused and upset. “What?”

“The earliest written references to it are in the last few years,” Ariadne said, “most of the scripture we’ve gathered just seems like watered down Christian Dogma, we think that’s why he had all those Church documents and artifacts. He was studying the growth of an effective religion so that he could pervert it to his own ends. His servants just told you it was an ancient religion to put the pressure on to do what he wants.”

Something dropped within ViLaz, as though she’d just looked at her entire world from a distance only to realize it was nothing more than a rubber balloon floating five feet in front of her face.

“The Red God really was just him all along, wasn’t he?”

Ariadne sensed that she had perhaps been too blunt, and quickly tried to turn the conversation around. “Come on, let’s get you to the library. Fastwing?”

“Yeah boss?” Alicia asked from somewhere near the end of the crowd.

“Take… our young friend to the library, find her a really good book, read it with her, and help her pick out a new name. I think there’s a lot more to her than just a Viable Lazarus, and I think she deserves a name that captures that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alicia said, and walked up to ViLaz. “Come on, babe, let’s get you a nice cocoa too.”

“Cocoa?” She asked as she was ushered out the door.

“Oh man,” Alicia said, “your day is about to get so much better.”

Once they were out of the room, Spacebreather continued the briefing. “The cult, the whole religious aspect, was just a front to get more test subjects. From what ViLaz has been telling us, right now he can only permanently take over one of the clones’ bodies if they consent to the transfer. But, there’s a reason why everybody who goes into the Life Centers seems to come out a suddenly devout missionary.”

Ariadne picked up here, sensing that Pilar didn’t like describing the more technical aspects of the dossier. “With the data Prescott gave us, our best guess is that the Suffering Test they administer at their life center uses the same tech from the Immersion Pods. It overwrites people’s personalities entirely and turns them into mindless zombies who live only to serve the cult. He shows them some horrible vision of the hell they’re going to, and they’re so scared they sign up for the conditioning. I’m assuming that’s how he got the Acolytes to raise ViLaz the way they did, so during our assault on their compound, let’s try to remember that it’s generally unethical to kill the mind-controlled.”

“We think he probably appropriated the name Ariadne for his prophet character in order to capitalize on our legend,” Spacebreather explained, “he probably figured there was no real Ariadne and that it was just some name punk kids gave when they were arrested, and decided that claiming to have the Real Ariadne would bring in lots of new curious people that he could subject to his brainwashing.”

Sweettalk, having taken her earlier admonishment to heart for the first time ever, spoke without raising her hand. “This is all really nice to know, but Prescott promised a Silver Bullet. How does any of this help us take him down?”

“The implants in the clones’ heads are linked to a master unit directly controlled by Dr. Simon. It’s how he was able to make ViLaz see the Red God and—” Ariadne paused for a moment and considered the ramifications of telling a partial truth, then decided to give only the information her crew absolutely needed to know, “It’s how we’re going to find him. All we have to do is reactivate the implant and with a little clever hacking thanks to yours truly, we should be able to pinpoint the other implants it’s linked to and reveal the true location of their compound. We’re going to need time to prepare, and a much larger strike force than we had at the casino. Deathsbane, I’d feel safer if you picked out an apprentice and started showing her the ropes, we’re going to need a medic on the ground and another on call in the ship with Fastwing.”

“Sasha will remain in the ship, her apprentice can join us in the assault.” Pilar said flatly.

“I thought we were past this,” Ariadne sighed, “we got kidnapped and she got arrested last time you—”

“And last time we let her go planetside with us, someone died.”

Sasha turned bright red, which Sweettalk noticed and felt a near-compulsive urge to defend her. “Nobody that mattered! And besides, you can’t possibly blame her for—”

“Do me a favor and shut your goddamn mouth, Sweettalk,” Spacebreather said.

Sweettalk was taken aback, but stood up and tried to stretch to Pilar’s height. “What did you just say to me?”

Sasha was somewhat stressed. Her sister was wrong, but she still didn’t want to see her get punched, especially not when she already held such a grudge against Sweettalk as it was.

Ariadne desperately wanted to keep the peace, so she attempted reason again. “Remember what Beam said—”

Pilar swung around to face Ariadne and held up her index finger to cut her off. “I… Said… No… End of discussion.”

Spacebreather then stormed out of the room, leaving everyone too stunned to respond.

Sasha stood up. “Thank you for standing up for me,” she said to Sweettalk and started walking toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Sweettalk asked.

“I’m finally standing up for myself.”

Update of sorts. I just found out recently that I've been diagnosed without my knowledge with psychotic personality and mixed personality since at least 2004 (I was diagnosed transgender 2008 though my first visits over that were in 2003 and it was overturned in 2017). Whether I've been knowledgeable in 2004 or 2003 about the first two diagnoses, I do not know but with my current state of being, I do not recall ever being told about those diagnoses or having been treated for either of them at said era or after until 2012 when I had an episode that gave me psychotic personality diagnosis and medication (which nulled my entire sense of self and identity and I lost all talents such as singing and arts and any and all personality traits I identified/identify myself by). And didnt affect however any of the symptoms it was prescribed for.

I had the trauma and dissociation test finished, with the parting words of the nurse admitting based on her idea of the extent of my research into did/osdd (truthfully a few pages on did-research website) that she had a difficult time administering the test and claimed that since childhood I've been without control creating characters (she did not explain where she got this belief) to appeal and try to gain affection from my parents (sounded like kitchen psychology to me and left me entirely confused),while the truth is because of my cult upbringing and unstable mother and the whole religious dynamic pervasive through every single day of my childhood, I would've been making everything worse by play pretending to be a boy toward my parents. (This was the nurses point, that I wanted to be a boy to gain affection as if that would have worked and become a valid method of gaining affection. I have no memories of such nature toward my parents. What I do remember however is macro managing my behaviour by watching my mothers reactions, where she didn't even have to say a word for me to begin changing my behaviour to avoid her flipping on me or punish me for being wrong).

So in short, the nurse said the test indicated zero dissociative symptoms despite the symptoms i told her and I later repeated them to the doctor (she wrote down that my symptoms don't show up in the test as well).

All the interactions of the nurse were leading and suggestive questions that never had a follow up question further than an answer she deemed to support her idea that I don't experience what I experience. As if she has never worked with a trauma patient that predominantly seeks to minimize and deny trauma and triggering experiences by masking them inside a positive thing or twisting it into a positive thing.

Most of the sessions I felt low key attacked and doubted and like I was supposed to know things I have no way of knowing, such as what happens when I experience amnesia or who fronted during the period I experienced amnesia or if someone else in the system knows what has happened during the time of memory loss or how often memory loss occurs (I only became aware of the specific memory loss because it directly involved other people and the appointment times were incorrect compared to which appointment I thought I was going to, if it had never come up the way it did, i never would have caught on the memory loss at all). If I'm the one with the amnesia, how am I supposed to know the answer to these questions?

Or forgetting details such as what lead to my first sex or that I've attempted suicide in the past. Or that I've forgotten one of my elementary school mates (the only real one) had died a year prior to me refinding it out through fb. (I have a memorial necklace charm now, so I won't forget again). Or having ironically good memory of the layouts of the houses I grew up in, except in two of the houses, they both have the same second floor. One is real and the other one, I have no clue where I slept, where I played, who I shared my bedroom with, what happened on that floor, what that floor looked like, where my brothers slept and what did they do day to day. I have zero memories involving that second floor of that house (aside the only one of watching the neighboring house be on blazing fire), where all of us kids still lived at home. I have one hazy memory of my oldest brother (who has been later described by my other brother as generally violent and disturbed toward my other brothers, he almost strangled the third one by hanging him) and that is about him putting so much ketchup on his macaroni that even the dog couldn't stomach it when I took the plate to the dog.

The oldest brother got engaged and moved out while we still lived in that specific house.

Overall I have a good decent amount of memories (where I am either alone, with external people - mainly other children or then feeling rejected, neglected, punished, disapproved of by all family (aside my oldest brother, he's just a black presence that's never in contact with me or any of my memories) including relatives), except any trauma memories (including second hand trauma I have logically witnessed based on the hint memories and what I've been told about our family).

If im telling any "stories" it's one of Nothing bad ever happened in our family and even though I was alone and rejected by everyone, I was a happy kid. Most of my memories are from summer or sunny days.

So I am left hurt, doubted, dismissed and ridiculed even. And I'm leaving things untold that are outright misconduct toward a patient by a medical professional. And I was basically argued and condescended to til the very end and laughed at during a switch (because the doctor didn't understand what the fuck happened during the meeting with the alter who fronted and then us switching and shaking her hand thanking for her time when we were leaving). And these two were supposed to be somehow specialized with dissociative disorders, yet I had to hear how there is zero main criteria that DID has to have and how ICD-10 is just a mix of guidelines and symptoms and differs greatly from DMS criteria and that DID is a very rare disorder, relevantly new diagnosis and is very rarely diagnosed in Finland as if that makes it as rare as their diagnosing of it. And I'm just saying, other diagnosed Finnish people have publicly outright said that if you want help, you ain't gonna get a diagnosis or accurate help through public sector (where I was tested and all the above is from) but that if you want help, you're gonna have to see a private sector doctor. And I can't afford that, unfortunately and I'm so so tired and disappointed and feel unsafe with these people.

My current nurse uses misdirection by disrupting my talking during our sessions by saying irrelevant comments or demanding to finish lengthily their thought that has been established mutually already that it has nothing to do with my situation or the way I cope with things but is how she personally sees it and how it works for her/how she copes and how others cope. And she does this to shut me up. As if I wasn't there for my care and to get help with my problems but socialize with her about what she personally finds works for her and other and how sleeping badly because the brain can't clean itself from gunk can cause memory problems. And she succeeds in shutting me up because she forces me into a social mode/alter instead of listening to the parts that are connected to trauma. So I can't continue talking because I no longer even remember what. The. Fuck. I. Was. Talking. About. I guess my brain is dirty.

The doctor gave us only one diagnosis that is mixed personality disorder and it is described with profound diffusive identity, dissociative symptoms, psychotic personality symptoms.

I'm so fucking exhausted. I haven't wanted to die as many times in my entire life as I have wanted to die these past few months. I've never considered myself suicidal but I just don't want to exist like this anymore. There's no help. No one's offered anything to help with my problems. It's like they haven't heard a fucking thing. "so how have you been feeling?" is the fucking first thing the nurse wanted to focus on. When I told her I shut the whole system down after the diagnosis bc I cant deal with things (because the angry part wouldn't shut up and was making us crazy by going things over and over even though we can't do anything about it and made us completely apathetic we couldn't function) she says "isn't that a good thing?"

ISN'T THAT A GOOD THING??!

Please, I don't know, the fuck, I'm not sure more education is gonna help it. I don't have words left anymore.

Anders & Mental Illness

Cause someone kinda spurred this Wall of Text.  

You want unpopular opinion time?  Here ya go:   Anders is NOT mentally ill.

So what are the symptoms that people are seeing that make them see mental illness, which, for the purposes of this post, will be a medical diagnosis concerned with neural biochemistry that can never be cured, but can be managed with the assistance of medication to help correct the body’s own imbalance.

Anders DEFINITELY has post-traumatic stress disorder.  Please note, this is not considered a mental illness by way of biochemistry.  It is a learned behavior and associated response, an extreme form of Pavlov’s conditioning, that can be treated through cognitive therapy, medication, and time.  Why does he have PTSD?  Let’s go down the list:

Because he’s been trained to hate himself since he manifested magic.  Not because he did something wrong, but because of how he was born.  Yay, let’s teach people to hate themselves for being born.

Because he’s been taught he’s a walking weapon.  

Because his own family went from being as much a family as any other (with good and bad points) to essentially calling him a monster and throwing him out like so much garbage.

Feelings of persecution because, well, he is taken from his family, called a monster, and then locked into a tower/prison to experience little to no privacy and under constant guard where any small movement, action, or thought could be met with abuse, torture, or death.

Solitary confinement – MULTIPLE TIMES.  Please note, while there is not much in canon about the type of solitary confinement used, it is generally a small cell (60-80sq ft, or a 6-8’x10’ cell).  This is where everything is done – eating, drinking, sleeping, reliving oneself.   For Solitary Confinement:  

There may be extreme sensory deprivation – there may or may not be light, sounds may be constant or none at all or that idle drip-drip-drip of condensation on stone. There is no actual human contact.

As if mages are dehumanized already, the combination of isolation and sensory deprivation furthers this dehumanization in that you will eventually start to question reality itself.  Once you leave this sort of confinement, readjusting to the sights, sounds, and textures of the real world is a major hardship.  Everything is too loud, too bright, too textured, too everything – it’s a total body sensory overload.

For someone so steadfastly opposed to being confined, who has escaped multiple times simply to be free?  Solitary confinement is the WORST type of abuse.  It’s throwing an arachnaphobic into a room full of spiders, or a claustrophobic in a tiny box, or an agoraphobic into an open field.  It is their worst nightmare come to life. Short-term, it would excruciating, but multiple times with ever-lengthening terms?  That creates a desperation that will lead to severe risk-taking, extreme levels of anxiety, a desperate need-to-please to avoid that situation again (very Stockholm Syndrome), and suicidality.  But of course, the institution that does all this doesn’t care.  One less mage to worry about.

From an RL-perspective, the United Nations has classified anything over 15days in solitary confinement “constitutes cruel, degrading and inhumane treatment, or torture.” For someone who is mentally ill already (again, see above), the pressures exerted on the human psyche for such extended periods of time would resolve into a complete psychological break.

Based on all of that? It’s a wonder Anders is functional at all, though we know people who have survived such things and live with PTSD and can be function.  It shows a pure strength of self and major resilience.  THAT we do see in Anders.

So now we’re going to look at the why so many see the shift between DAA and DA2 Anders as absolutely signs of mental illness.  So DA2 was a rushed mess with a seriously unreliable narrator and essentially decided to disregard almost everything from DAA.  Remarkable storytelling, there, BioWare.  Good on ya.  *rolls eyes*

DAA Anders.  Ah, yes, the sassy, snark-driven flirt that everyone adores.  It’s called OVERCOMPENSATION.  Anders knows full well if this last escape attempt doesn’t work, he is, quite literally, a dead man.  While he has no fucks left to give on many levels, he will fight that one tooth and nail. He would rather die than go back to solitary or be given a lobotomy.  He will rail against authority, but anyone who gives him an ounce of positive reinforcement, an ounce of kindness, that is something to which he will cling with desperation and do anything to keep that positivity occurring.  Especially if it can in some way prevent what he fears the most.  So he flirts, is charming, is sassy, is snarky, and is HELPFUL. He may have a mouth on him, but he IS helpful.  He wants to ingratiate himself.  It’s also a self-defense mechanism where if he can deflect everything with wit and sass, no one will actually know what terrifies him the most and give them leverage over him.  He can’t afford that vulnerability.  

But he cannot hide the anger – that is there, in spades and then some.  He remembers enough of his life before the Circle to know there is a better life.  He is angry for everything he has felt in the Circle, for all the people who were hurt there, for how he was hurt there, for how anything resembling any sort of goodness was stripped away, beaten out, abused, or killed.  They were not allowed anything truly good in their lives and he had had that, tasted it, wanted it.  Knew it was there.  So he is angry, furious, fighting so hard to be free and be allowed to breathe and just be him, not some monster they kept telling him he was.  He didn’t feel like a monster, he didn’t want to be a monster, but he was still terrified he was one.  

And so he becomes a Warden – mostly because he can and as yet another last-ditch effort (he has a lot of those) to break free from the tyranny of the Circles and his impending death sentence at the hands of the templars.  The Wardens should be his escape.  They are an organization beholden to NONE.  Their backgrounds effectively cease to exist, for the most part.  It doesn’t matter if they are rogue, warrior, thief, murderer, or mage – once they are joined, they are Wardens.  And if it weren’t for the continued persecution of the templars who simply cannot stop being assholes, who knows what might have happened.  He did already exhibit traits of fighting for freedom, his own if no one else’s, at this point.  Justice helped him see that there were more people oppressed and made him start thinking about that.  

For all the extra time he had before being taken to the Circle, Anders is still young.  Though there are no canonical ages mentioned, general thought is that DAA Anders is early-20s.  And the Circles are geared toward keeping mages naïve and helpless, to keep them like young children so they are, by necessity, required to rely upon their captors for survival.  Anders has a bit more independence going into that environment than many, which is how he continued to fight and get himself in trouble.  He’s very strong-willed with a drive for independence, but he’s still effectively in the mindset of a troubled teen.  

Yet with all of that, there really isn’t any mental illness.  There is the PTSD, the anxiety and paranoia, the overcompensation, all from truly legitimate and horrifying experiences that would leave multiple symptoms of lasting impact in varying extremes.  Again, PTSD is a learned response to stimuli.  He is reacting based on previous experiences and results. And it absolutely influences day-to-day interactions even if the experience is in the past, because the key part of PTSD is that the past is NOT the past, it is still actively influencing the present, even if those stimuli are not actively in the present.

So let’s talk DA2 Anders. This is actually my preferred Anders. Why?  Because he has grown up.  He’s been given the TIME to actually figure himself out to a degree outside the confines of the Circle.  And do you know what he found?  That is has mountains of strength and compassion to give to others.  That he can say NO to some things.  Do you have any idea how difficult is to say NO when you’ve been indoctrinated like that?  It’s one of the hardest things in the world to do and even when you learn it and can say it, it can still be such a struggle to fight to listen to yourself and your feelings and not fall prey to that belief that it would simply be better for everyone if you said yes, no matter how horrible it may be for you to do so.

Anders in DA2 is a semi-to-mostly-functioning adult, as any adult would be after going through his life experiences, but all in all, he’s actually doing okay for himself.  He’s managing.  Sometimes, that is the absolute best we can manage.  We find out that he merged with Justice from DAA.  A lot of people will claim this, in and of itself, makes him bipolar or, at the very least, the outdated Multiple Personality Disorder (now Dissociative identity disorder), wherein there are a minimum of two distinctly separate identities that persist.  On the outside?  Eh, I can sorta see it…EXCEPT.  Justice isn’t Anders splitting his psyche into multiple pieces.  Justice is JUSTICE, a Spirit of the Fade.  A personality in and of itself/himself (and this particular personification of Justice chooses to be male, so male pronouns from here on out).  Justice isn’t a fragment of Anders’ personality.  He is a spirit who inhabits a living form that already has a soul. YOU LITERALLY HAVE TWO SOULS IN ONE BODY.  This is not a mental illness, this is spirit possession.  So DID can go straight out the window on this one.  

And then there’s that whole spirit/demon thing.  Justice IS NOT a demon.  He’s one hell of a hard ideal, in spirit form.  I have an entire essay written about Fade Entities, but that’s another topic. Needless to say, Justice isn’t some cute lil cricket on Anders’ shoulder.  Justice is a burning ideal in a world full of injustices.  And Justice, as we can see in DAA, is actively learning about the world around him.  He becomes, essentially, a very protective elder brother to Anders as you can see Justice only really breaks out and takes control in DA2 when Anders is clearly at breaking point and under severe emotional distress.  Imagine Hawke going to bat for their younger sibling in times of distress and you have Justice, wielding the blue fire and lighting of the Fade.  Justice allows Anders to know there is someone always looking out for him, who always has his back.  He allows Anders to feel a modicum of safety and gives him that push to allow him to be who he is.  He is, in a word, family.  Not easy, not kind, not always loving, but he is the chosen family – the blood of the covenant, not of the womb – and that much stronger for it.

Justice gave Anders a type of companionship after years of solitary confinement that no one else could. Justice helped anchor Anders, even though he pushes him hard.  Spirits can learn (Justice does, Cole does, even Wynne’s Spirit of Faith does) and they learn their environments and hosts if need be.  But inhabiting the living body of someone who has experienced everything Anders has?  It makes Justice very protective and very angry, but that doesn’t make him a demon. It actually makes him more human. He feels righteous fury at those who hurt his friend and continue to hurt him and others like him.  He feels insulted and personally attacked whenever he is called demon because he knows Anders’ fears about himself and Justice and their merging and he would never want anything like that to hurt his friend or for he, himself, to fall to that.  But he hasn’t.  Justice is still Justice and still that same ideal.  To warp Justice into a demon would require Justice brutalizing everything he is and warping the ideal of justice into something else entirely. And vengeance doesn’t count here – they are two sides of the same coin, which is why you often see vengeance called vigilante justice.  If the order of the world dictates that those in power do not provide justice, then vigilantism is the justice they receive.  I’m not even entirely sure what Justice could become if he was able to be warped enough into a demon, actually, no, I take that back, he would become Zealotry – the brute enforcement of an ideal, fanatical enforcement of an idea with no regard anything but that.  And that is NOT Justice.  There are much better examples of zealotry in Thedas.

Does Anders have aggressive self-defense mechanisms?  Oh hell yes.  He actually aggressively overacts to quite a few things to the point Hawke really should have smacked him upside the head a few times.  But it goes back to that old saying where it’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you.  And yes, they are actively and actually out to get Anders. Yet for all of this?  For all that he remains hunted, for all that his very existence is hated and persecuted and reviled?  He starts up a free clinic.  He uses his magic to heal people without asking for anything in return, except maybe to be left alone and maybe, just maybe get a warning if the templars are too close.  He has so much compassion, even after everything he has experienced.  He cares enough to not want others to experience what he has experienced.  

So let’s get back to mental illness.  I see a lot of references to manic episodes.  Now, I know that everyone who is diagnosed with BPD, I or II, experiences their own form.  It’s different for everyone.  I have BPD II and have only experienced medication-induced manic episodes and YIKES – I don’t know how anyone deals with those on a regular basis at all.  I get the funzies of depressive episodes, sometimes so badly they will pull me under.  Sometimes, so badly that yes, suicide is at the forefront of my thoughts. A lot of that has to the with the diagnosed PTSD and self-hatred that I have been trained to have. Indoctrination is a bitch. Therapy is helping, but it took years to get this shit diagnosed even after years ago, I had done enough research to kind of diagnose myself.  But no one wanted to believe me when I brought it up as a possibility.  People see other people functioning, to the most basic appearances, normally, and they hand-wave away the idea that there might be a problem.  So that said, let’s take a look at manic episodes.

I’m going with a firm NO on this one.  The closest thing I can see to manic episodes are when Anders is working almost feverishly on his manifesto.  No abject risk-taking that was any more prevalent than his multiple escape attempts. The closest thing we have to that is him running a free clinic and the mage underground in Kirkwall.  Hell, him breathing in Kirkwall is risk-taking.  But the manifesto nights?  It’s less manic and more avoidance, in my mind.  I’ve done it.  It’s keeping so busy that you don’t have time to think about the bad things that are constantly in your head.  Keep busy, keep healing, keep writing, keep fighting and for the love of all that is good, DON’T SLEEP.  Don’t let the dreams in, don’t be helpless and vulnerable.  Work until you’re so exhausted and you don’t dream, then wake exhausted again and do it again.  This is PTSD-anxiety at work combined with night terrors.  He is terrified of going to sleep, of being vulnerable to attack, of the nightmares of not just the taint, but of dark spaces and helplessness and the Fade and memories of failures, all those he couldn’t protect.  He drives himself so hard so he doesn’t have to think of those things.  It’s a defense mechanism.  It’s mostly utilized for anxiety and depression when dealing with PTSD or with basic extreme stress/duress and grief, and his history clearly can point to when those started.  

Oh, wait, I mentioned depression up there, didn’t I?  Hey, that’s a mental illness!  Yes, it is. Absolutely.  But you can be depressed without having the mental illness/biochemistry maladaptation.  Damned genetics.  ANYWAY.  PTSD causes extreme reactions, stress and duress, anxiety, and yes, depression.  You can’t escape the anxiety, the fear responses, the need to either work yourself to the bone or sleep away the pain.  In Anders’ case, it’s working himself so he doesn’t dream. Guess what happens when you do that to yourself over and over and over again?  The body isn’t designed to go without sleep and proper rest.  Those of us with sleep disorders will tell you (and it’s in the medical literature if you care to research it) that that degree of sleep deprivation will cause depression.  It’s not necessarily a matter of biochemistry, but that of situational body adaptations to not being able to recuperate.  

So there it is in a very large nutshell – my thoughts on why Anders is NOT mentally ill.  I get that some people want to see themselves in their favorite characters.  I relate to Anders on many levels, but I cannot put my diagnoses on him.

SC DR. DOES AN OJ

Mr Jack Swerlng Afternoon/ Re: > Killer X Doctor Lazzarini Oh, and Jack I am familiar with my First Amendment Rights, & the difference between TRUTH, AND DEFAMATION we're good here! Adam Killer Lazzarini a really bad thing is happening in your life right now overdo, and deserving this is NOT a dream!  Please call WIS they recently received a tad ( all true) of my tragic true story going wide soon!  Very soon! ...  Every single medical institution in America shall have in their hands recordings dating back to 2010, but specifically 2016 that fateful day at WMC where you stated on recording " we'll revise you because you have osteolysis"  caused by your conscious refusal to see me again after holding me 30 days in patient prepped for surgery 2010 failing to test my metal Cr/Co which were high in 2010 but you ignored the mandatory testing my dependent on your honesty knowing nothing until discovery of this insanity until late 2018 legally<you psychopath! after I collapsed & no mention of a ReCall< along with copies of radiology,  progress notes, operatives 2010-2017 & a copy of the certified letter WMC & killer Lazzarini received notifying him & WMC about the (ReCall yah NopE! ya'll not off the hook here NO!).. egregiously concealing the identity of said device 2010 - 2017.  Contemptuously egregiously both you & WMC denied me lawful disclosure in order I have the{ first time* best possible urgent revision performed by the Best! Surgeon} you made sure that did not happen thus I was stuck with you as noted in this elective urgent revision operative notes where you lie all over the place perjuring yourself over and over proven! after collapsing again! BEFORE KILLER YOU RIPPED OUT THE POISONOUS METAL attached to components (you were well aware were defective back in 2010 failing to disclose seeing multiple tumors and cysts necrotic tissue everywhere YOU FUCKING BONE GRAFTED OVER IN THE REVISION LATE 2016 WHEN YOU DESTROYED ANY POSSIBILITY OF MY WALKING AGAIN!   Read for the first time by me after coming out of the coma and nursing home  killer man< you placed me in to die consciously, deliberately, &  egregiously!! unlawfully abandoning me with no referrals non weight bearing for over one year into my one year living in LA late 2017 unable to walk today on crutches left hip infection you left untreated along with the hematoma, & severe lucency you ignored leaving me with no acetabular failing to disclose you observed metal debris & high density on multiple reports you received me too sick /weak/ & unknowing trusting you! omygod!..DEAD TO RIGHTS!, & there is so much more...... and for the record no amount of money will return me ten years of lost memories with my son or repair my hip, spinal cord, and vision. working fast now aggressively intend to destroy any possibility of you working anywhere in the medical field because you are a killer! Working on a book in this matter / Am set with all the evidence I need now coming home to NY compiling even more evidence ~all of the above & so much more..... Dr. is reserved for those few! who take their oath "do no harm" seriously unlike Killer Lazzarini.  Seriously this man is a killer at heart his true character to harm not! heal.  I can prove this, and the whole world including his daughter's friends will know & I pray run for the hills.  To think his Killer hands actually manipulated my left hip in late 2016 so I'd never walk again is MURDER!...He insured I'd lose enough blood so I'd die, and nearly did lost 900 ML of blood it's what he wanted.   Listen to the 911 tape Jesus Christ I don't know about you but when my mother had an aneurysm right in front of me I was hysterical one hand on the phone for 911 screaming at medics to get her to the hospital or let me drive!...No and sadly our criminal justice system is black and white innocent until proven guilty...but then whatever it was killer used was out of her system by the time the call came in at 7am.  If a spouse moves out of bed a loving spouse would follow early in the morning that terrible day for killer's spouse.  Body was moved period.  Sorry Jack but really ( heart disease / liver problems)...did this private autopsy show 100 % occlusion of her aortic valve? NO! liver problems? PROVE IT!  Suspicious 100% he did it but like OJ in the end justice prevails Jack!  The family of his poor wife should bring charges of marital neglect given he was a doctor consciously aware his wife had heart or liver problems leaving her to die like me?  IS HIS TRUE NATURAL CHARACTER!   I CAN PROVE IT. Yes of course a doctor would know exactly how to kill, and leave NO trace Mr. Swerling I'll insure it gets out there to the jurors before sentencing! Heck! Killer Lazzarini managed to fool me, and many others until late 2018 when I became legally competent, and stable enough out of sheer disgust for this killer to begin discovery in his premeditated plan to kill me except that I lived!...Oh yes no doubt I am well within the statutes and recently legally proven induced that agreement is DEAD! much like Killer's career anywhere! & I pray spends the rest of his life in solitary confinement after inmates get word ( well I'll leave that for now) and then break his hips oh I do not' know because he one day in mess hall says something stupid leaving him to suffer with no morphine in sight! as he left me for ten years straight away  & counting consciously aware & ignored me!  God is our law here this will NOT turn out well.    I lost my son in this tragic true landmark matter, my ability to return to work I enjoyed, and loved so much more.  Then this arrogant smug killer man his true character! just looked away.  Trust that whatever this killer tells you is false all of which I can prove otherwise or I'd not waste my time sending this to you Mr. Swerling. First degree murder five counts including my left hip, spinal cord, and vision! Happiest day sadly in the ten years of my enduring the most tragic horrifying physical trauma caused by Lazzarini's criminal medical negligence 2010 to present day was* seeing this killer behind bars wearing what will become his favorite color ORANGE! AAOS is fully apprised!.. Nothing trumps a truth based tragic story backed by mounds of evidence proving every word about to go wide!.. I'm Patricia exceptionally smart Do you defend Felons  in Criminal Medical Negligence cases. Dead to Rights hereto in New York, and soon this entire matter blows up before jury selection!   Lazzarini is DEAD TO RIGHTS! Read on please as I will be a star confidential key witness in the Holland Trial!.   Stryker Rep shot point blank in the heart killing him instantly! & then Killer Lazzarini obstructs justice lies & lies & lies...This was premeditated luring Holland to the bedroom sorry an intoxicated man manages to get off the shot many veteran officers miss.  The gun went off my freaking back side!...The family confidentially has my testimony however until then my prayer is that this Killer rots in hell! where hell is too good for him.  Nobody walks free from the carnage this criminal left behind for so many....  I am resourceful, and have evidence to insure this man is punished anywhere he goes.  That this man murdered my hip , spine, and now just in vision caring less that at the time we met in 2010 I was a great mother having enjoyed a happy privileged life before we met an amazing life gardening on my farm in North Salem, and equestrian dire to get back in the saddle, prominent set designer in the world of fashion shot down by this man leaving me to die from 1/2011 after being discharged untreated 30 day stay in NY huge cover up until Pathology released the truth to me in LA while in Discovery..   He's done!...Jack you may somehow have the charges reduced however be advised I will be exposing this criminal along the way the entire length of both trials on every medical and social media outlet as we speak everywhere & then there is YouTube, my Auto, News, & my one on one scheduled to air very soon!...Landmark case!.   Killer I hope you rot in hell! & spend at least ten behind bars is not good enough but hen God has this I know for sure!  Jack if I were you I'd hand this case off it's not good for anyone to be attached to such evil, toxic outright energy.  The man's no good he killed, and admitted it PERIOD.  God's will is to see justice here as he broke the largest sin of all THOU SHALT NOT KILL.

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to Political Confessional, a column about the views that Americans are scared to share with their friends and neighbors. If you have a political belief that you’re willing to share with us, fill out this form — we might get in touch.

This week, we spoke with Chris, a 28-year old black man living in Texas who works in media. Chris originally wrote: “I think Democrats should actively pursue a European-style equilibrium/compromise on abortion: first trimester abortions are state subsidized and easy to obtain, everything else is pretty restrictive and hard to access.” The position was controversial, Chris said, because: “I’m a guy and I’m never going to have to choose about abortion, so I should probably shut up about it. And finally because, listen, I’m a queer black man. I don’t want my interests as part of this coalition to get sold out or compromised on. So who am I to try to sell out or compromise women’s interests in this coalition?”

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Clare Malone: Tell me your thought process on this position. How did you get to it?

Chris: I think it’s mostly because I grew up in Texas in a very conservative, super pro-life school with a lot of people who were very aggressively — and it seemed to me sincerely — pro-life. I went to college in New York and actually talked to people and learned some things and said, ‘Oh, no, actually that position is dumb and if you read books, including the bible, the whole idea that life begins at conception is not really supported by anything.’ And I learned that many embryos don’t actually implant in the womb, so the entire premise of the hard core pro-life position doesn’t make any sense.

But I guess I just always had the memory that this is one issue where at least some of the people on the right were arguing in good faith and not just like, ‘No, we don’t like women.’ It seemed like, OK, they’re negotiating in good faith and perhaps there are people who care about other people and, in part, base their political positions on caring about other people. Perhaps they would be more inclined to move to the left if it were not for this one issue that they see as a major moral sticking point.

CM: Would you call yourself pro-life or pro-choice?

Chris: Definitely would call myself pro-choice.

CM: Do you talk with people in Texas about abortion?

I do. I have one good friend who grew up in a very conservative environment and then moved left. He’s one of those people who are really pro-life but the GOP is so terrible he just decided to compromise on that position and go ahead and join the Democrats, despite the fact that he doesn’t like that one policy position.

CM: Your talk about coalition building was what caught my eye. Who are you hoping to win back with this compromise?

Chris: In theory, I think a lot about the people I grew up with.

CM: What are the demographics of the people you grew up with?

Chris: It was upper-middle-class white people in a ritzy suburb of Dallas, which is where I was in school. They seemed like sweet people and I understand that some of them were voting because they are, lord knows, racist and sexist and xenophobic and all that. I guess I’m thinking about whether there’s a viable distinction between socially conservative and culturally conservative voters. I’m thinking about social conservative voters.

CM: When you’re thinking about ways to win back those people you grew up with, are you thinking that Democrats should soften on identity politics issues?

Chris: I think that Democrats should actually not let up on identity politics, but rather address more of the identities, including some of the identity groups that we think of as dominant. That includes explicitly talking about white people’s interests and Christians’ interests and men’s interests — consciously talking about everyone’s identity politics. Saying, ‘OK, well we want men in our group and here’s some issues that men are concerned about and here are some issues that white people are concerned about — and here is how we’re going to make sure that we still respect some of these cultural totems, whatever they are. And here are the ways we’re going to try to respect those even as we try to make material conditions better for other groups of people.’

CM: Do you think that would create tension in the Democratic Party, saying here’s white identity and here are the issues we’re going to attach to it, and here’s black identity and here are the issues we’re going to attach to it? What happens if the two come to loggerheads?

Chris: I think that’s the whole point. That’s the tension that’s already in the Democratic coalition. It’s not like there’s not a whole lot of white people and even culturally conservative white people who still vote for Democrats. So I think it’s making the tension explicit rather than letting it simmer in the background until someone offers racial resentment to white people.

CM: So everyone should be more frank, basically?

Chris: Yes. More frank, more direct and also with the intention of trying to prove that Democrats are on the side of people who a lot of people don’t think they’re on the side of.

CM: Have you talked about this compromise position on first trimester abortions with anyone yet?

Chris: Not really, and I know I probably should. It’s something that I wish was in the policy discourse. But, no, I don’t bring it up. It’s not really my place. I’m not a woman. I don’t necessarily want a bunch of white people to be over here like, ‘The compromise that is popular is for the president to say [former NFL quarterback Colin] Kaepernick is bad but give funding for housing for black people.’ That would be a compromise that would be fairly popular but I would totally roll my eyes at some white person telling me that.

CM: Are there other issues that you as a black man, a queer person, would be OK with compromise on?

Chris: I’m less upset about the whole bakers won’t bake cakes for gay weddings thing than a lot of people are. And I think you need protections and I understand it as a slippery slope type thing. But if they don’t want to bake cakes …

CM: How would you answer the argument that most women get their abortions in the first trimester, and many second trimester abortions happen because a fetus is non-viable or there are medical problems?

Chris: I think my cynical answer is that that’s kind of the point of the policy [Chris proposes]. If you make a situation where you’re protecting most of the abortions that are happening anyway in exchange for regulating a much smaller number of abortions, I think in a lot of ways you would end up with a better solution for women in red states who already have their abortions regulated to an absurd degree.

CM: Are you personally uncomfortable with second trimester abortion?

Chris: I want to say ‘no.’ Like, if my friend told me she had an abortion and she was six months into her pregnancy, I would say, ‘I’m so sorry that happened.’ Most people don’t like getting abortions. I’d like to think that if I could get pregnant I wouldn’t get an abortion in the second or third trimester unless it was like, I’m going to die or the baby’s going to die — I’d like to think that personally.

But the whole point is I’m never going to make that choice personally. If I didn’t realize I was pregnant, and maybe there were a bunch of hoops to jump through because I live in Texas, and I couldn’t get to the abortion clinic until I was six months pregnant — I have no idea what choice I would make. So yeah, I think I am a little squeamish about it.

CM: How often have you talked to women about abortion on a personal decision level?

Chris: Almost never! I’ve had a lot of political conversations about abortion. Surely some of my friends have had abortions but we’ve never talked about it.

CM: How would you respond to people who will read this and say, ‘this person is a minority, a person who identifies as queer, how could he be so unsympathetic in his politics to people who are concerned about the regulation of their personage?’

Chris: I’m giving the most boring answers but the answer is that I don’t have an answer for you! The whole reason I hold this position is not because I hold a moral opinion. It’s not because I think that, morally speaking, anyone should have an opinion on what a woman does with her uterus ever. But you’re always willing to compromise on an issue when you know people who agree on nine things out of 10 but No. 10 is their sticking point. I think there are a lot of people where their No. 10 sticking point is gay marriage, their sticking point is NFL protests and a bunch of other issues I do care about …

CM: But you’d be willing to compromise on them too?

Chris: If there was a real benefit then yeah, but I wouldn’t be happy about it. I would be like, ‘this is disgusting,’ but I would also be like, ‘This is politics and you compromise on the right thing to get a better thing than you would have gotten otherwise.’

SUICIDE:  Is it a Sickness or a Choice?

SUICIDE:  IS IT A SICKNESS OR A CHOICE? June 2018 As so often happens, with our attention spans constantly shrinking, the media competition requires we be drawn into every event that occurs during any given day.  The consequences of this have been discussed at length elsewhere, and are well known – though we appear to be doing absolutely nothing to correct this growing threat to any continuity in our society.  I mention the media as it brought to our collective attention - like it or not -  the suicide this week of two relatively engaging, but frankly minor celebrities.  Two suicides in this group doesn’t really merit the “Breaking News” headline.  In fact, an argument could be made that it is vulgar and a sign of disrespect for the concerned individuals that such a fuss was made about it.  But since no one seems to care much about discretion or propriety anymore, the issue that does deserve our attention and which relates to both these individuals, is not so much them, but their suicide. Suicide has been rejected in most Judeo-Christian-Islamic cultures as a sin, essentially taking from God the life he gave us, without his permission.  In many pre-Christian, indigenous cultures, ritual suicide was widely viewed as a generous act designed to either placate an angry god or ensure his benevolence going forward.  A prized citizen would be called upon to sacrifice their lives for the collective good.  So, it would be an error to start from the premise that suicide has always been something to be avoided by all cultures.   There are other instances when individuals find themselves in situations where they are left with a choice – to save themselves or others.  Military heroes have committed a form of suicide and are honored for it.  Parents can find themselves in situations where they say, and may indeed execute, on their willingness to give their lives for that of their children or spouse.  Religious martyrs are another example, interestingly elevated to sainthood by the very institution which forbids sacrificing oneself – unless the sacrifice is designed to benefit the sanctioning institution.   So, it becomes obvious that once again, our penchant for oversimplification has resurfaced.  It is quite possible that our societal aversion to suicide may reflect our endemic narcissism, and the culture of self-gratification which has replaced any notion of self-sacrifice, manifesting itself in an exaggerated sense of self-worth along with a similarly exaggerated sense of fragility.   Governments usually  disapprove of suicide, as it does abortion and euthanasia., some even going so far as to view contraception as somehow contravening God’s law.  In my view, governments want order, and suicide is the ultimate rebellion of a citizen.  It also reflects poorly on the statistical record of an administration if suicides are on the rise. Interestingly, to better control the population, and any penchant a segment may have for suicide – often due to external circumstances related to diverse forms of hopelessness – the issue has been medicalized.  And once this has been accomplished, suicide becomes a form of preventable disease, treatable with different forms of behavioral and pharmaceutical therapies.  Lost in this wave of official good intentions, is the very reason why an individual has arrived at a state of despair such that leaving this world appears to be a more attractive option than remaining in it.  Even if explored, it is done superficially for questions of cost, collaboration and demand.   Of course, there are serious interests at stake here, including careers, huge sums of public and private money, institutions, insurance companies, social services, prevention services, philanthropic organizations, researchers, public health officials, and the list goes on.  Their goal is, of course, to provide assistance.  But as often happens in this area, the goal becomes as much the development of the institution as the assistance they may provide. In my early days as a psychotherapist, I had a patient who was referred to me by a neurologist for chronic depression.  She was a school teacher, in her fifties, born in harsh and rural circumstances, with an extremely cold and terrifying father who banished all forms of affection, tenderness, warmth from her life.  Education allowed her to escape her family, and she became a primary school teacher in a small city not far from where she grew up.  She had become a lesbian – not surprising given the forbidding nature of the men she was exposed to – though an immature, quite naïve and idealistic one.  Central to her problem was the face that all forms of pleasure had been excised from her life, and though she missed closeness, joy, connection, and could talk about their absence, she was incapable of forming any mature relationship.   When I first met her, the friendship she had shared with a fellow teacher over a number of years had come to an end, as my patient wasn’t able to step out of her impossible fantasy of unrequited love, and into some form of reality where a  reciprocal friendship could develop. I saw her for about two years, and she was a reliable participant – at least in terms of keeping her appointments.  But beyond that, all forms of constructive thought were simply not available to her.  And though we discussed this at length, and she was fully aware of the problem, her identity had become so entwined with a self-image based on poverty, frustration, absence of pleasure, unrequited love, that for her to change, her entire life story would have to be rewritten.  Her early life experience had become her destiny, a self-fulfilling prophesy from which she simply could not free herself.  To do so would erase her identity, her sense of self as all suffering, deserving of nothing.  And the prospect of that was more frightening than any other. She was self-aware enough to realize this, and pragmatic enough to see that at her age, with her attitude, experience, and almost happily failing health, there were to be no second acts for her.  What she believed from the start was now manifest, opening the door to the next step.  The question then became what were they?  Since continuing to suffer as a reason for her existence was achieved, it appeared on an exit could offer her to affirmation and freedom life had denied her. Why, you might wonder, continue?  I felt at the time that I was a source of fresh air for her, and that it kept her going.  And as long as she continued to come, I believed that she had not yet eliminated all options for herself.  Rather abruptly, she disappeared.  I became concerned, tried calling her, all to no avail.   After a short while, I contacted the neurologist who had referred her to me, who was also my friend, to alert him to the situation, and ask his opinion as to the opportunity of alerting the police to this possible suicide.  His attitude was more detached, more rational than mine.   In essence, he said that she was never going to change, that the purpose of her life had been set, and it was to be perennially unhappy.  She knew this too.  So, from his perspective, and he articulated it in unmistakable terms, if she was so inclined, and had no further desire to endure her existence, then suicide might be, in fact, the best solution. I was taken aback by this, caught up in the collective mindset that all suicides must be prevented – but never questioned how valid this assumption was. For her to kill herself would be a failure of mine - or so I thought at the time.  But the real failure was not to see what she was really doing -  tying off loose ends, getting ready for her exit - on her terms..   Other authors have raised this issue in more depth than I will do here, and some have come to a similar conclusion as my neurologist friend.   There may indeed come a time in a person’s life when hope can cannot be renewed, when continuing becomes the irrational choice, if we manage to see things from their perspective.  Our own fear of death gets in the way of understanding that for those for whom life is more a burden than a source of any form of pleasure, our fear is no longer theirs.   The obvious question then becomes, by right can our blindness to their true suffering empower us to deprive them of what has always been missing, but can be found in that final moment of affirmation?   As we know, most first attempts are calls for help.  But for those who choose a definitive, infallable answer, should we not consider their point of view as being at least, if not more, valid than our own. Of course help should be offered whenever asked for.  And prevention can be most effective in children and adolescents whose character is insufficiently formed  to withstand external events which may be overwhelming for a time.  But there are others whose very life set them on a course where they never had a chance to find their place in this world.  Where every effort met with defeat (or so it seemed to them), and where for reasons clear to any who care to really acknowledge the suffering, the struggle these people endure for years with little to no respite is indeed heroic in the same way as military heroes choosing their own end to save others, martyrs who die for a greater purpose, saints who give their lives for God - the list is long.   There comes a time for these people when all strength fails them, when the prospect of another day in their lives is unbearable, and putting an end to their lives at the time, the place and in the manner they chose, can be completely liberating.   The problem comes from the outside, where because we fear our own death, we think we are protecting our own by forcing others to live.  The medical profession has embraced the mental health perspective, where every life should be saved, no matter the cost, not to society, but to the individual.  It can be, for the concerned individual, worse than a life sentence in prison, for at least there, they would know where they belong.  You can prop them up, solve all their practical problems, and still, their sense of self is so closely tied to defeat, that suicide can become the only salvation. Are these people sick?  Should they be obligated to be medicated so that whatever life force they may still have is suppressed so the strength required to end their lives with some dignity is taken from them.  And the final statement whereby they decide where, how and when they will leave what, for them, has always been a vail of tears is denied. I have published a book recently, available on Amazon.com, addressing this issue from the perspective of a very personal experience with a young man  I tried to help.  If you want to see exactly what I mean, under which circumstances someone can reach a point where either madness or suicide will rescue them from their daily hell, you might want to read it.  * In closing, Think about some of the arbitrary positions societies have taken in its own self interest.  Consider the suffering, often in silence, some individuals are called upon  to endure, and through no fault of their own.  Feel their plight, a condition where they have struggled all their lives, to no avail, and finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Is if really for others to define an individual’s right to finally claim their own dignity, freedom, and ability to choose? Should we go so far, be so consequential, as to offer these people an infallible, humane way to leave this world?  I’m not sure, for to do so, would institutionalize the decision, impose evaluations, consultations, regulations, and a burdensome administrative process which would remove all dignity and respect from the process.  Just look at what we are doing with abortion clinics and Planned Parenthood in some states.   Is there an easy answer?  In a sense, yes.  Help whenever requested, whenever needed, and not just in the moment.  Rare is a brief push sufficient, and to set someone already on the way down to a new failure is beyond cruel.  But I don’t believe it is either humane or even right to stigmatize what may be a final act, and not as desperate as we portray it, of self-affirmation.  Insofar as no one chooses one’s own destiny, if the cards one has drawn offer only a losing hand, how is it unreasonable or some  sign of mental illness (debunked by the latest statistics which suggest that 54% of suicides have no record of any mental health issue, though rejected by the prevention community as misleading), to realize, being in full possession of one’s means, that it's time to pick up one's chips and leave the game?  For good.

*THE LEFTOVERS OF GOD'S ANGER - The Chris Chronicles https://www.amazon.com/s?field-keywords=leftovers+of+God%27s+Anger

Kara sending Mon-El away DOES NOT compare to Sanvers. At all. There is no comparison to be made. The Danvers sisters dynamic obviously needs to be discussed before we enter season 3. 

1.) Kara losing her boyfriend =/= Alex losing her girlfriend.

Kara has had various other relationships and has other good non-romantic relationships. Kara has a mentor in Cat Grant, a best friend in Winn AND Lena, James, CLARK, Barry, Lois and Lucy. A mom in Eliza, a pseudo-father figure in J’onn and she has the Allura AI. Oh, and the biggest one: Kara has Alex. Kara has all of these people that love her and want to support her and wish only the best for her.

Alex on the other hand, let’s examine her relationships with other people. She has Maggie, “Ride or Die” Sawyer, Eliza, and J’onn. All of her other relationships are strictly professional (Vasquez, Lucy) or are Kara’s friends (Winn, James). WIth Maggie, “I finally got her to be herself, Kara,” Alex bares her soul. She’s all in and has everything to lose, “Marry me, please.” With Eliza, Alex constantly feels like she’s failing. She literally went to medical school (compromising her mental health with the stress obviously) because that’s what Eliza expected of her. I will delve into the can of worms that is the “weight of the world” responsibility that Alex has had to shoulder since she was a child in another point. Alex’s relationship with Eliza is strained at best. Also side-note, ouch at Alex losing Jeremiah again, one of the few important people Alex has in her life. Alex’s relationship with J’onn was more mentor-mentee and professional before it was revealed he is an alien in season one. After that, we see the relationship develop and progress to where J’onn is a pseudo-father figure to Alex. But they’re still boss-employee, don’t forget that. The bond there does not constitute a healthy outlet in which Alex can express her feelings and frustrations. He is her boss after all. You may think that like with Kara, I’ll add that Alex has Kara, but you’re mistaken. Kara has Alex, Alex doesn’t have Kara. Which makes my next point.

2.) The rift between the sisters has always been there.

Their relationship is so one-sided that it’s more frustrating than laughable. Alex does anything and everything for Kara, hell, the pilot episode has Alex picking out clothes for Kara’s date even though her flight is in a few hours! Kara admits herself that everything has always been about her and that there’s been no room for Alex. Kara didn’t even know why Alex and Vicky had a falling out! I sincerely doubt that Kara knew anything about Alex’s frustrations while in medical school. I don’t know about the rest of the world, but the closest person I have to a sibling hears everything about me (the good, the bad, and the ugly) and vice versa. I’m not saying immediately after it happens but eventually we do share everything with each other. I’m not blaming Kara for immediately latching onto Alex and trying to preserve as much of Krypton as she could, I am however blaming the Danvers parents for encouraging and enabling the behavior. No one should ever have the entire life of another person depend solely on them, that puts an ENORMOUS amount of pressure on the person that is being relied upon. Alex literally entered the Black Mercy AND flew Kara’s pod into space because she thinks Eliza would never forgive her if she allowed Kara to get hurt (whoo at that backlash in season 1 after Kara becomes Supergirl and Alex is afraid of what Eliza would say while Kara says not to worry and then Eliza tears Alex a new one. Makes you wonder what all Kara has missed in her obliviousness.)

Kara states while under red kryptonite that Alex has always has been jealous of Kara which I 100% believe to be true. Kara received special attention and care from Eliza and Jeremiah and never had to take the blame for any of her actions. What sibling wouldn’t hold resentment? Especially once it was revealed that Jeremiah was blackmailed into joining the DEO because of Kara which resulted in his (not really) death. That had to sting and speaking of death, Alex literally killed Kara’s aunt that she was slowly converting to the good side. Twin sister that literally looked identical to Kara’s biological mother. This was never actually resolved by the show.

We saw in a flashback that Alex was punished for Kara’s actions unfairly because, seriously, Alex was just a teenager. From what can be inferred, Kara ruined Alex’s social standing in school (which sounds petty but actually can be the cause of a lot of psychological distress) and also someone makes a comment about how Alex should know how dangerous aliens/Kara can be, which another flashback to the beach implies that Alex was injured from the explosion AND also that Kara probably accidentally injured Alex multiple times in their childhood.

3.) Kara is afraid of “losing” Alex and repeatedly lashes out and causes Alex to feel guilty for anything she does that doesn’t pertain to Kara.

I could quote so many things but I feel like this point is pretty universally understood. I will point out the manifested guilt Alex has from both Eliza and Kara: “I was happy for five minutes!” Yeah, okay so it wasn’t the best move for Alex to decide to go to her favorite band’s concert on the Earth birthday in which Kara had finally been on Earth longer than Krypton (kinda insensitive) but if we’re being honest, it’s not like Kara would’ve been THAT upset normally. She literally made the plans THAT morning to try and distract herself. I could make a whole other post highlighting how the absence of Cat Grant, the sudden missing time due to vigilante shenanigans with Winn and James, and the sudden stop of 24/7 care by Alex turned Kara towards Mon-El in the first place but this isn’t that post.

Kara making Alex feel guilty for having another person in her life is extremely manipulative. I’m sure Alex lost a lot of quality sister time once Kara became Supergirl but she never seems to complain about that. Alex having another person in her life shouldn’t cause Kara to constantly play the “Maggie” card. The rift between Kara and Maggie due to both their connections with Alex and in their professional lives is yet another thing I could write an exposé on. Kara clearly doesn’t like Maggie and the feeling is mutual, they’re just civil because Alex desperately wants them to be. Will the show ever resolve the tension? Doubtful, it’ll just be another unexplored plotline.

Alex shouldn’t have to feel guilty for finally having someone she can release her frustrations with, Alex has clearly been lighter since dating Maggie. They’re good for each other. Unlike Kara and Mon-El who consistently bring out the worst in each other. Kara is jealous that Alex isn’t 100% focused on her AND that she has a healthy relationship. It’s nasty that Kara is intent on destroying Alex’s relationship due to misplaced anger and jealousy and that’s the tea on that.

Also, Alex literally had no one before, she couldn’t even Tell Kara or Eliza about the DEO. That’s a lonely life. And Alex based her entire life around Kara and Kara was willing to just drop it all and go live with Clark, completely abandoning Alex and making her feel like she wasn’t enough and not “family” (which obviously Alex already has issues with feeling inadequate.) Tell me that isn’t ugly.

I could continue but I just wrote this in between classes and have to go to class now so.

Tl;dr The Danvers sisters have always had unresolved tension and resentment towards each other. Kara needs some emotional development and needs to stop unleashing all of her anger onto Alex. It’s ugly that they’re going to try and parallel Karamel and Sanvers when the ships are completely different.

Subject 412

Summary: Thor Odinson, the new King of Asgard, has hidden his people behind Luna, Earth’s only moon as he, Loki and Dr. Banner return to earth in search of a place for his people. When issues arise, Dr. Banner leads the two Gods to a safe house that he knows is not in the SHIELD data base. The trio soon realize much has changed in the two years that they have been away.

Main pairing: Loki x OC

Ao3

Chapter 1

 “Thor, I get it—you want your people to be safe, but bringing them to Earth without talking to someone in charge is not the way to do it!” Bruce stresses as he stands in the center of a room with the new King of Asgard.

 “Banner, my home is destroyed,” Thor states as he gazes out towards the universe spread before him. He had seen this view many times before, but this time it is more poignant than any time before.

 “I know. I know. But Asgard cannot start a war with Earth. We need to do this the right way.” Even now, Thor knows the doctor is right. He would just rather him not be right at this moment. He sighs as he turns to face his friend. “What do you suggest?”

 “We go down together, get Fury and the others, and create a proposal for the World Council to review. You have saved Earth twice; the Council will have to hear you out.” Bruce explains as calmly as possible. He can see the urge in Thor to rush and provide for his people, but there are more severe consequences around.

 Thor nods as he begins walking past the doctor. “Yes. We will—let me call for Loki, and we shall descend to earth.”

 Bruce can feel the panic and dread fill him as he quickly trails after the god. “Wait, what!” He nearly shouts as he follows him. “Do you think that is a good idea? He did try to rule over New York…”

Thor nods his head as he continues to walk out of the door. “That is true. But he is my brother, and together we will represent Asgard. His place is with Asgard if he chooses.” He tells Bruce as he continues to walk away without a glance behind him.

 “Oh, no.  That is not going to be good at all.” Bruce mutters rubbing his hands together watching the God disappear behind another pair of doors.

  “You have been compromised. Code 837. Code 837. Enacting Yellow Rose protocol in three…two…one. Protocol activated. Anastasia, follow my commands.”

 Anastasia can feel her heart bouncing as she opens her eyes and the echo of the automated voice ringing in her head. Safe. The nightmares haven’t gone away since SHIELD’s data dump and the HYDRA task force had infiltrated the organization. She had been forced to flee the moment her phone rang. She has been compromised, but to what extent, she didn’t know.

 Yellow Rose protocol. It began erasing any trace of her from the SHIELD database and her life since she had been freed. Anastasia King, as far as the world knows, never existed. She had trained for if this day were to come…but, she never thought it would.

 She ran from the life she had without a second thought. She would never go back to being enslaved by HYDRA, to be their test subject, to kill for them. Anastasia would rather die than to surrender to the organization that once held her captive.

 Anastasia has been hidden in this safe house for more than two years now. She would leave every so often. SHIELD designed this particular safe house for her and her abilities and per Nick Fury’s orders, had been kept entirely off the records. Only a select number of individuals knew of its location. Because of this, there was a plethora of funds and other needed identity creating markers for her to use until she received the following protocol to follow.

 But she knew that chances of someone realizing where she was who wasn’t killed in the HYDRA attack was slim. And while she has the training of being a SHIELD agent, she isn’t nearly as good enough to hide in the general population without assistance. At least not anymore.

 And, if protocol Yellow Rose wasn’t successful in erasing her life, then HYDRA may have realized that she is indeed alive and will come for her.

 Anastasia groans and pulls herself out of bed and forces herself to walk into the shower. The feeling of fear snakes around her ankles with each step trying to paralyze her, but she refuses to turn back and face it. It will cripple her if she does.

 She stares at herself in the mirror as she undresses. The pale scar on her neck has been healed for years, but she can still remember the feeling of being branded. S412.  Being a thing, an object, in the eyes of HYDRA and no longer a person. She was Subject 412.

 SHIELD’s top scientist and medical professionals spent years trying to have her skin heal without the scaring, but nothing ever worked. Anastasia finally begged them to stop—no more experiments, not anymore.

 Anastasia moves silently as she steps into the hot running water, letting it drape over her and relaxing her. This is her routine. Nightmares. Shower. Breakfast. Walk the perimeter of the safe house. If she needs to run errands, she does. Lunch. Dinner. Sleep and repeat.

 This is her life now. A prisoner to her fears.

  The small spacefaring vessel that the three men boarded to pass through earth’s atmosphere is a junker. “Change of plans,” Bruce mutters as he helps guide the craft through each layer of the atmosphere. “This spaceship isn’t meant to enter into this type of atmosphere…we need to do an emergency landing and regroup after.” He explains as Thor presses down on the controls.

 “There are no communication tools in this…vessel,” Loki mutters as he grips the wall as his body jolts from the changes in the environment.

 “Quite obvious, Loki.” Thor snorts, throws his head back as they pass through the final layer of the atmosphere.

 “And the radar is shot—but I believe I can guide it to a safe house. Nat shared it with me that it was off the records. It’ll be a safe enough place to regroup and figure out where to go.” Bruce explains ignoring the pull of the controls.

 Thor grins as he glances at the doctor. “Natasha will be happy to hear from you!” He states with excitement before staring at the skyline of the earth. Bruce shifts in his seat and grips the handles tighter. “Yeah…” he mutters as he pushes the controllers forward.

  Anastasia stared at the pictures sitting on the mantle over the fireplace as she cooked her breakfast on the stove. She knows that Fury put the photos in some time ago. One has Nat and her in it from a trip to Seattle. Anastasia smiles at the memory. She had been under constant supervision with SHIELD, and they had been terrified of her and her abilities.

 Natasha had visited her every day after she was rescued. At first, she would just stand there. This went on for weeks until she asked if she could come in. Anastasia nearly burst into tears. The woman with red hair had been the first person to ask her if she wanted to do something.

 But she refused to talk to Nat. She didn’t feel safe. These people said they were different than HYDRA that they wouldn’t hurt her, but they forced her to go through procedures, just like HYDRA did.

 She was fifteen when SHIELD rescued her. SHIELD kept her close even after she began showing signs of improvement. They began testing her skills and abilities to try and understand what HYDRA had done to her. Ana could move things with her mind—shimmering light would encase the object she was trying to move, and she could do almost anything. Crush it. Throw it. Gently place it back down. No one in SHIELD understood how she gain this ability.

 She didn’t talk for almost three years. A black man with an eyepatch would watch her too. When she was 18, he came with Natasha one day and asked if they could do surgery. They explained that the technology that HYDRA had put in her head was old and wearing down. They wanted to put upgrades in it so she could live longer. That is the first time she spoke—she told them she would agree to certain conditions.

 She would be able to leave the facility. She wanted to transition back into society. Ana was surprised when the man agreed. Then he presented the condition of his own: therapy twice weekly, attending school within the facility, train with SHIELD, tell them everything she knows about HYDRA. Ana agreed.

 When her treatment team, reluctantly, agreed for her to make a short trip away from the facility, Natasha asked her where she wanted to go. Ana told her she wanted to see the rain. Natasha said that Seattle was the rainiest place on planet earth. And Ana cried the moment she felt raindrops fall on her head. She sobbed as she waded into the water. Never before has she felt so free.

 Ana stares down into the burnt pan of eggs. She sighs as she turns off the burner and slides the pan away. She turns and walks out of the house, her eyes glancing at the picture of her and Nick Fury before stepping into the surrounding forest. He died. Ana never got to say goodbye.

  “Careful…gently…” Bruce mutters as the ship hovers over the ground before slamming into the earth. The sound of crunching metal and the seatbelt pressing into his skin fill his senses as the control of the aircraft jerks from his hands. Bruce groans as pain fills his chest.

 “Clearly, gently was not an option,” Loki moans as he pulls against the locked seat belt in an attempt to free himself. Thor yanks his seatbelt free and throws it to the ground. “And you could have done better, brother?” He frowns as he glares at him.

 Loki scoffs as he frees himself from the restraint of a seatbelt. “Well, I could have—“

 “We stole a crap of a ship from a crap of a planet,” Bruce states loudly as he begins moving to the back of the ship to de-board. Loki watches as the doctor walks back shrugging as he follows. “Well, for some of us, at least.” He replies with a grin.

 Thor rolls his eyes as he follows them as he steps off the ship and glances around. The large house is surrounded by acres of forest and bodies of water. “It appears we are farther away from civilization than we anticipated.” He announces as the trio walks towards the house.

 “Well, yeah,” Bruce agrees. “SHIELD wouldn’t want people to stumble upon it.” He explains, “But it should be stocked with everything we need to move forward.” He can only remember vague recollections of what Natasha told him about this place. Something about it being one of the safest places there is.

 “Why did Fury build this?” Thor mumbles his thought out loud as Bruce opens the front door of the house. “That’s odd.” Bruce hums and frowns. “All safe houses have a code…the doors don’t just unlock freely.”

 Loki peaks through the front door. “Perhaps we aren’t the only ones here.” He offers as Bruce cautiously walks into the entryway. The three are silent as they begin scouting through the house.

 “Well, someone has been here. Recently, too.” Bruce finally says as they conclude their search. The bed is unmade, burnt food on the stove, and fridge stocked with fresh produce. “We should move quickly then.” He concludes as starts searching for a hidden key.

 Loki sighs and leans against the doorway watching the two search.

 Thor pauses at the mantle. “This is Natasha…” He states as he picks up the frame. “Banner,” He calls as shows him the image. Bruce turns to look at him with confusion. “Why would there be a picture of Natasha here?” He asks as he walks to the god. He frowns. “And who is this?” He wonders.

 Natasha looks much younger here, and her hair is longer than he has ever seen it. “This has to be at least…10 years ago.” He states as he stares into the photo. “And here is one with Fury,” Thor says and pulls another frame off the mantle. “Same girl too.” He passes the photo over.

 “Who is this?” Banner mutters before looking around.

 “Does it really matter? We didn’t come here to wonder about some girl in a photo,” Loki sighs and fiddles with the television remote. Thor shrugs. “He has a point, Doctor,” He says. “Come, let us find the hidden contraption.”

  Ana had been few miles away from the house when she heard the crash. Whatever had discovered the safe house tore down the protective shields keeping it hidden off the satellite scanners. The automated voice echoed in her mind. Compromised.

 But there is no protocol for her to follow this time.

She began jogging back towards the house her heart pounding and blood racing in fear with every step. Everything she needs is hidden in the basement. If she is to escape, then she needs to get back inside of that house.

Ana crouches into the bushes silently observing her home. No movement outside. And a crap of an aircraft. ‘Not HYDRA?’ She questions herself before dashing across the lawn to the back of the house to the outside door that leads into the cellar. She presses herself into the wall of the house and pauses, listening to any sound coming from the inside of the house. Men are talking.

 She deftly opens the door and sides into the basement, but not before hearing the sound of a large plane flying overhead. Ana pauses before closing the door behind her, peering up at the sky, where a solid black aircraft is beginning to descend. She takes a deep breath, “HYDRA,” She whispers out loud before shutting the door behind her.

 Ana can hear the men above her scuffling to look at the source of the noise. She can hear the words ‘SHIELD,’ but the words that stop her in her tracks is the name ‘Dr. Banner.’ Ana grabs her supplies before pulling up a hidden monitor to look inside of the house through the hidden cameras.

 She gasps as she begins pressing the screen to flip through the other cameras. “Where have you been all these years?” She whispers, her mind flashing to Natasha. “Is that Thor? He has seen better days…and why is he here?” She hisses as she zooms in on Loki’s face.

 Her body is flooded with fear and anger when she watches as another man walks into the frame. “Alek.” She snarls and slaps the screen. Ana remembers the first time she met Alek. She escaped on her own once from HYDRA. Alek was sent to retrieve her. He beat her, broke every bone he could, before returning her to HYDRA.

 She presses the volume button and watches into the conversation between the men.

 “Dr. Banner…you have been missing for quite some time,” Alek announces as he stands relaxed by the door.

 Dr. Banner nods. “I am aware. Are you with SHIELD?” He asks as he looks around at the others. Ana watches as Alek smiles. “Of course, when we saw this location pop up on our energy map we headed right over to see what was going on.” He pauses as he looks around and stopping in front of the mantle. He turns to Dr. Banner with a frown. “Have you see this girl here?” He asks as he points to Ana in the photo.

 Dr. Banner shakes his head. “No, I don’t know her. Why? Are you looking for her?” He questions. Alek nods in the affirmative. “She is wanted by SHIELD. We have been searching for her for years, in fact.” Alek pauses. “Nonetheless, at least we know she is alive. We should have you three taken to HQ. I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you all.” He stares at Loki. “Probably not you, however.” He chuckles with a grin.

 Ana cannot see the trickster’s god reaction, but she can judge by his body movement that he is not as entertained by the comment as Alek is. She throws her backpack on and turn on her heels to flee from the safe house but pauses as she listens to the sound of Dr. Banner continue to speak.

 If Ana lets Dr. Banner get on HYDRA ship and Natasha finds out that she allowed him to, the spy will kill her. Suddenly, the weight of the world feels as if it is pressing on her chest before she realizes that Dr. Banner never questioned the agent’s credentials. He doesn’t know that SHIELD has been compromised.

 She takes a deep breath, rolls her eyes and grits her teeth. Ana drops to her knees and begins pulling out weapons that she can use to hit the HYDRA vessel without approaching it. If she only uses a distraction, then it will increase the likelihood of it being reported that she is alive. No, she needs to kill them all.

 Ana closes her eyes and latches two guns onto her body—one nestled on her back and one onto her hip. She opens a protected case and pulls out high tech explosive bots and a few minutes of filling with the screen she orders the small machine to attach itself to the lower end of the craft. She momentarily follows the machine and gently opens the door watching it fly out of the room and around the corner of the house.

 She walks back down into the basement and walks towards a hidden door that leads up into the first-floor closet. She can hear the men shifting and getting ready to leave when she pulls herself into the closet. Ana pauses for a moment before creeping out of the closet and into the living room, pressing herself against the bookcase.

 “Oh, hold on,” Banner says, and she can hear him walk away. “I need to grab one more thing.” Alek sighs in frustration. “Anything you need we can get at HQ, Doctor.”

 Ana creeps forward, separated by the wall between the kitchen and the living room, stepping with each creak of Dr. Banner’s steps. She waits, quickly checking the corner and finding her target.

 But she hesitates, and he sees her. “There you are,” Alek grins, his focus completely on her. “We all thought you died all those years ago. Who would have guessed that they would have kept you alive for all these years?” His tone is sweet and sickly as the words slide into her mind. “It has been too long, Izzy.”

 Ana steps into the kitchen, her gun still drawn onto Alek. “That’s not my name,” she answers her voice guarded. She can feel her body shaking, but her hands are steady. He just laughs as he shifts slightly to look at the men behind her.

 “Come now, I told you SHIELD is interested in her,” Alek says looking expectantly at them, but all three do not move. “Move again, and I will shoot you,” Ana bites out, eyes wide with fear. Before he can speak, Ana continues to talk. “He’s HYDRA. Not SHIELD. SHIELD was compromised almost a year ago by HYDRA. The government disavowed the agency and everyone scattered to the winds,” She says as quickly as possible.

 The sense of confusion fills the air as Banner looks around nervously. “What do you mean SHIELD fell?” He asks before stepping forward. “And put your gun down!” Alek smiles as he steps to the side. “She’s lyi--” He releases a grunts and falls to the ground as Ana places to rounds into his leg.

 “I’m not lying!” She shouts.

 “Whoa, whoa, okay…” Bruce mutters as he backs up look at Thor and Loki for some type of assistance. Thor shifts slightly and coughs. “Why don’t we all settle down and practice deep breathing, that works for you, Banner!”

 “I am not interested in doing deep breathing. I am interested stopping HYDRA from coming after me. I am tired of running and hiding.” Ana snaps her head to look at them. “I was safe until you three idiots fell from the sky. You compromised my position!” She shouts at them, tears brimming in her eyes.

 Alek shifts and Ana releases two more rounds into the uninjured leg. “God damn it!” Alek shouts, and Bruce raises his hands. “I get it, I get it, you’re angry,” He says to her as calmly as possible. Ana laughs a small smirk on her face. “Angry isn’t even the beginning, Dr. Banner,” She responds her voice low before shooting Alek in the head.

 The room is silent as Ana pulls the trigger of the high tech grenade causing the aircraft to explode.