#never mind that the vowel sounds following the b’s in each of those words are completely different so idk why the subtitles chose that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imdoingthismspaintadventure · 4 years

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In which we close a narrative loop and dave is a tsun

Dave: Get the damn beta and save your friend's life!

Let’s get a move on!!

Finally the betas are easily accesible when we want them to be, instead of spending 40 pages finding them by doing things like throwing cakes out the window

This notion strikes you as nonsensical. You can't imagine how a video game could save someone's life, and in any case, you're quite sure no one you know is in any danger.

.... fucking what

Is this before the other things? Have we gone slightly back in time in terms of the general story? Is this while John was fucking around in his room?

....Does this mean that we will lose these betas somehow in the inmediate future because nothing can ever be easy? Oh no

Anyway, these are your copies of the beta you received in the mail recently. You've labeled them with your name in BOLD RED PRINT to distinguish them from your BRO's copies, who labeled his in kind. Neither of you really gives a shit about this game or has any intention of playing it, but you'll be damned if you'll let that get in the way of your campaign of one-upmanship.

What is it with these kids and weird family relationships?

I predict we will lose our copies and we will have to get Bro’s copies, based on that each kid so far has had their parent/authority figure as an antagonistic force.

Dave: Bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable.

Oh god this is indeed a pattern we are going to be following!

We had the “wrong name” bit, the “find your arms” bit, the “idiotic command” bit....Are we going to do them again for GG when they are introduced? I wonder what this command will be then.

You would never consider allowing any fluid even remotely resembling urine to touch your beloved TURNTABLES. That would risk breaking them, and a world without the gift of your godly science just doesn't sound like a place you want any part of. While you're at it, you might as well wipe out human civilization with a meteor or something ridiculous like that which will probably never happen.

I like that the “on your turntable” part is the outrageous part of “bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable” for Dave. Kid values his raps more than his life. Although it’s probably true that the world would be lesser without those wonderful, wonderful things.

And yeah, nothing to worry about with meteors and such, Dave. I’m sure nothing bad will happen, ever. Just like how those game copies you have are going to be safe and accesible forever.

That sort of thing only happens in stupid idiot movies for stupid idiots.

Oh come on, I’m sure you can find a bit of value in them, even if it’s in a “so bad it’s good” kind of way.

==>

...wait, are you really considering it?

You will however contemplate bleating like a goat for IRONICALLY HUMOROUS purposes at a later date.

...I will keep that in mind in case it comes up later.

If PS has taught me anything is that these comics are Chekhov’s armories

Dave: Examine closet.

So inside the closet there is yet another package (probably a gift from John, judging by the pattern we seem to be having. Seriously, do all these kids send each other presents in the same manner? ) and some sort of drink?

This is your closet. This is where you keep a lot of your crap.

Most accurate description of a closet ever

Like that BOX. And that bottle of... what is that? Is that...?

.....

Is that seriously a jar of piss? I would say “wtf” loudly, but your room is such a weird combination of things (including those weird fetus/ dissecated animals/ weeeeird shit) that I wouldn’t even be suprised

Dave: Check the blue box.

.....WHAT?

W-Why is there the BLACK OILY SUBSTANCE THAT STAINED THE KITCHEN WHERE JOHN IS STRANDED IN THE VOID HERE, ON THE PACKAGE??

Does the oil have multiversal properties? If it stains one’s house it also retroactively stains his possesions?? Or is this package from after those events?? Has it gone back in time??

WHAT??

But first let’s stop for a moment to appreciate the fact that Dave has a signed Stiller poster

This is the package that your friend John Egbert sent you for your 13th birthday a little while ago. It now contains nothing except a NOTE and a CERTIFICATE OF AUTHENTICITY vouching for the genuine Hollywood memorabilia which the box originally contained, and which you are now wearing to be IRONIC but also to be INCREDIBLY COOL IN A WAY SOMEHOW INTANGIBLY RELATED TO THE IRONIC NATURE OF THE ACCESSORY. You find it sort of exasperating to explain these subtleties to people.

John gave him the shades!! And they are apparently the real shades Ben Stiller wore in the movie!! That means that they are not *the* universal shades of PS, unless the shades in the Stiller bust were these ones and they somehow ended up there. But isn’t PS a videogame in this universe? But these shades had the universal glow?

Let’s not think too hard about that. It’s probably just an easter egg.

Also Dave please write a thesis on irony, the world needs it please.

The BOX also included a signed photo of BEN STILLER which now proudly hangs above your closet. Proudly and IRONICALLY.

I really like this totally (un)cool hipster kid.

Dave: Take box.

ohwahtthefuck

WHY ARE THE SYLLADEXES GETTING WORSE???

So it classifies things based on the balance of consonants and vocals in the name of the object and assigning an index value like in a hash map.

Oh boy this is a completely useless one in terms of getting shit done quickly, unless you have a godly grasp on words and their composition.

You captchalogue the BOX through your HASH MAP FETCH MODUS. Your modus's current HASH FUNCTION resolves the index by valuing each consonant at 2, and each vowel at 1. The total is divided by your number of cards, and the remainder is the index. BOX = 2 + 1 + 2 = 5 5 % 10 = 5 The BOX is captchalogued in card 5.

Just...LOOK at this

Look at this madness.

Dave: Examine jar of unknown yellow substance in the closet.

I don’t know why, but the combination of the quick turnaround, the fanfare and the fucking apple’s face makes this way more funny than it should be.

So it WAS apple juice after all.

Oh hell yes. It is an unopened container of APPLE JUICE. You thought you were all out. It is like fucking christmas up in here. This is so great. You've got to tell John about this immediately. He'll be so excited.

Oh wait, is this before the first conversation, when Dave and John talked about Little Monsters and Apple Juices? Is this why that conversation was as out of left field as it was?

I see how it all fits together now

Dave: Take juice.

You captchalogue the JUICE into card 7. 2+1+1+2+1 %10 = 7.

Dear god is this system nightmarish

Dave: Access Pesterchum and pester John.

Oh I can see the loop closing!

In addition to letting your buddy know about this outstanding juice windfall, you figure you'll wish him a happy birthday while you're at it. In your own cool, sort of roundabout way of course. Good thing you looked at that box he sent you, or you might have forgotten. You also might as well ask him about that beta. The kid's been harping about it for weeks. It would be cool if it came on his birthday. He'd be one happy camper.

Dave is such a tsundere in his friendships holy shit. You care about your friends a lot you dork

That background is rad

Wtf is “Complete Bullshit” as an app. (Probably some complete bullshit)

Ill beats because the laws of this universe demand it

Hephaestus, isn’t that the god of the blacksmiths and craftsmen? Cool icon. Reminds me of those flash games where the icons all fought each other.

Of course his emote in Pesterchum is S m o o t h

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 18:13 -- TG: hey so what sort of insane loot did you rake in today EB: i got a little monsters poster, it's so awesome. i'm going to watch it again today, the applejuice scene was so funny. TG: oh hell that is such a coincidence i just found an unopened container of apple juice in my closet it is like fucking christmas up in here EB: ok thats fine, but i just have one question and then a word of caution. have you ever seen a movie called little monsters starring howie mandel and fred savage? TG: but TG: the seal on the bottle is unbroken TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory EB: all im saying is don't you think monster howie mandel has the power to do something as simple as reseal a bottle? EB: try using your brain numbnuts. TG: why did the fat kid or whoever drank it know what piss tasted like TG: i mean his reaction was nigh instantaneous EB: it was the 15th day in a row howie mandel peed in his juice. TG: ok i can accept that TG: monster B-list celebrity douchebags are cunning and persistent pranksters TG: also fred savage has a really punchable face TG: but who cares about this lets stop talking about it TG: did you get the beta yet EB: no. EB: did you? TG: man i got two copies already TG: but i dont care im not going to play it or anything the game sounds boring TG: did you see how it got slammed in game bro???? EB: game bro is a joke and we both know it. TG: yeah TG: why dont you go check your mail maybe its there now EB: alright.

And they DID indeed have the exact same conversation!!!

We are indeed back in time!!

We are sooooo gonna lose those Betas!!!! : D

#Homestuck #Homestuck liveblog #mspaintadventures #mspaintadventures liveblog #act 2 #Dave Strider #john egbert

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izamaina · 5 years

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A Thousand Lies and One Truth: A Song of Regrets

Makalaurë thought he knew blood, the occasional accident when a harp string snapped, Nerandel’s pottery falling and trying to catch it, a beam falling on a worker. He thought he knew all the ways to die, knew them because, in Tirion, death was only temporary. The dead would return, talking about the ever gracious Valar, almighty in power and wisdom. He thought he knew mistakes, lying to Maitimo or Atar about something, trying to best Artanis with words, scoffing at Turukáno’s attempts at flirting with Elenwë. All paled in comparison to this.

The ships had burnt and he had not stood aside. People had burnt and he had not stood aside.

It was not because he hated everyone on board and all those waiting for the ships in Valinor, or that he saw them as his father saw them; as baggage. His own brother has been aboard one of those ships, burnt alive for no good reason. His cousins, who had fought their kin at Aqualondë for them, betrayed Arafinwë and the Valar for them waited on the shores of Valinor for ships that would never come. His uncle, the proudest of the Noldor would have to walk back to Tirion in shame, betrayed by the brother he loved and trusted and his nephews.

He was a Kinslayer and Blood-traitor. He was an ex-prince and a coward. He was Makalaurë of the line of Finwë, second born of the house of Curufinwë. Makalaurë had been a naive boy, thinking that a song and a God at hand would solve everything. He was not that foolish anymore. A God would have lifted his brother from the boat. A God would have slain Melkor or banished him to the void for all eternity. A God would have taken back the Silmarils from Melkor and a song would have had more to tell of than the beginning of the end. And now that task fell to the Eldar, to go to the land of their uneducated kin, who had suffered for ages under the hand of Melkor and bring them to an age of enlightenment and regain the treasures that his father had crafted.

They had arrived in Losgar, rested overnight and in the morn, Fëanor had ordered the ships to be set afire. Of his six sons on shore, only one stepped forward to protest what Fëanor was doing, it had been Maitimo, in that moment, Neylofinwë, recent crown prince of the Noldor. The only son that was expected to be perfect, a jack of all trades and a master of none. So that in the tricky world of Noldorian politics, it could be said that he favoured no particular craft. The son who was never supposed to disagree with his father had disagreed with his father. And so Makalaurë had witnessed the madness of Fëanor, his father and done nothing. In that moment, Fëanor’s words has seemed reasonable, the loss of the Silmarils had brought out the worst in them, he thought he could see that. His father was disguising madness under fervour, his brothers cruel delight and sorrow under passion. But he was still Makalaurë. Right?

He had stood aside and let Amburassa burn.

He had stood aside and agreed with the unspoken whisper of traitor that was aimed at his older brother.

He had stood aside and betrayed his blood because his father had said so.

He had sworn a blood oath that would bind all of his father's line and condemn him.

And he would do it again. And again. And again.

Makalaurë would never do any of those things. He didn't know who he was anymore. All he knew was that the ragged camp on Lake Mithrim and his own regrets were his shroud. All he knew that Maitimo and his personal guard with the Fëanorian forces were finalising plans for an attack against Melkor. A three pronged attack. All he knew was that elves whispered traitor as his brother passed and plotted in the darkness that was now, ever present with the light of the two trees extinguished. All he knew was that his father had survived a potentially fatal balrog attack. All he knew was that while he sat and brooded, trying to tell himself that he was still Makalaurë, that nothing had changed and struggled over understanding the Sindarin language, his brothers prepared for war. His father gloated over the defeat of Nolofinwë without truly meaning it. His people whispered of plots and stories amongst themselves. He had tried not to feel sick at the thought of murder and of murdering and had succeeded. He had tried to ignore how the elves who carried the feanorian star and were filled with passion over Fëanor’s noble quest to win back the Silmarils and anger over how Nolofinwë Finwë chose to name himself, despite not being king, whispered about his brother when he wasn't looking. In that, at least, he had failed. In that, his naive belief that if he confronted the rumor mongers, the rumors would stop and he would be hailed as a hero had faded.

He could remember, when years ago, Findekáno and Maitimo had had an argument, Findekano had stormed away with a shout of;

‘You all try so hard to please your father, you can't see who you could and should be!’

That wasn't the truth. Was it?

“Makalaurë. Father wants us in the central tent for the last touches to the plan.” It was Maitimo, his normally well tended and loose red hair pulled back in a plait as he disturbed Makalaurë from his musings.

This would be fun. Meetings always were, differing opinions shouted across the table, Carnistir talking nonstop about how this would impact the economy and funds they had, Turcanfinwë trying to sneak out to be with Huan and away into the woods, Maitimo assuming the role of Neylofinwë and stopping him. But this was different, that was in Valinor, where a word from Nerdanel about how they were disturbing her sculpting would stop them in their tracks, where Ambarussa trying to fool them with the twin telepathy would have them laughing or mock trying to conduct experiments to see if it was really possible for them to talk to each other telepathically. Now one of the twins was dead, Nerdanels last words to them were ‘Damn you all in the name of Illuvatar and to Mandos with you!’ and his older brother was preparing for a war he would lose.

Heavy hearted, Makalaurë stood up and followed his brother to the plain tent that sat in the middle of the camp, an eight pointed star on a red background barely visible in the light of the lamps fluttered in the breeze.

How was it that he was now walking towards war, when one week ago, he was planning lyrics for a new song.

How was it that he was preparing to take place in what was probably a plot to remove his older brother from existance.

How was it that as he walked towards the tent, he questioned his fathers motives.

The meeting had scarcely required his presence, Curufinwë the younger had taken up most of it whilst Turcanfinwë nodded in the corner and Maitimo had hardly said a word. Pityafinwë was present, physically if not mentally and Carnistir had been silent. His father had spent most of it whispering with Curufinwë. The only thing he had brought up was how they should consider using the Sindarin forms of their names and learning the language to persuade the Sinda to join them. The idea had been approved by his father and he had spent the rest of it working on names.

It was too soon after the meeting when the trumpets rang out and Makalaurë heard the distinctive sound of hooves striking against the hastily laid out cobbles that had been placed down after one to many elves slipped in the perpetual mud underfoot. Laying down his notes on the differences between Sindarin and Quenya vowels as he walked outside to see his brother and his guard marching out of the gates, a small voice inside his head whispered that this was the last he would see Maitimo. Huan was standing to attention as Turcanfinwë looked out, avoiding eye contact with any of the others. Curufinwë and his father were standing together, a smile bordering on his father's face whilst Curufinwë clenched his teeth. Carnistir was writing down the names of those who had ridden off and Amburassa was nowhere to be seen.

Within moments of the last of Maitimo’s host vanishing from sight, the camp was back to being a rush of activity, elves collecting and distributing weaponry and armour until his father spoke up.

“Stop. The other two armies will not be going.” Makalaurë heard that in perfect clarity. It was expected, ever since the burning of the ships. To him, at least, the world had fallen silent as his father spoke.”My son, has proven himself to be a traitor to my family and our cause. Even now as he leaves, he goes to report to his master, Melkor. I only found this out after I had said he could go, as he planned, I am sure. He has played me for a fool, he has played us all!” The answering roar of assent seemed deafening and out of the corner of his eye, Makalaurë could see Ambarussa turning and walking away. His father's meaning was clear, they would abandon Maitimo to die all for the sake of power and the Silmarils.

And he was too much of a coward to do anything.

He retreated to his own tent, absorbing himself in the Quenya to Sindarin translations, avoiding his father and brothers. He didn't know what to do. How could he, he reasoned with himself. How could he. How could he when the threat of his father hovered overhead, how could he when the oath he had sworn twice writhed in the back of his mind. How could he leave his brother to die a traitor's death and allow all of his brothers personal guard to die as well. How could he indeed?

Curufinwë had wanted to discuss implementing the Sindarin language into the camp, Makalaurë couldn't face him. He couldn't look at his brothers face and know that he didn't stand up for Maitimo. Couldn't face Pityafinwë as a half not Amburassa as a whole. Couldn't look at his father and know he would obey him but there would always be a thread of doubt in his mind. Could either of his brother deserve to die? Surely not.

But what is will be.

Everyone's named needed Sindarisation, and Makalurë was the only one who knew how. He had written down their names, in order of how he remembered them. Maitimo and both of the Amburassa were on the list. With a sigh, he set to work, page after page being consumed as he made notes, charted down rough approximations and doodled treble clefs in the corners of the page.

He was tired, so, so tired. It was illogical, he knew that. He had had what made for a night's sleep, it was just so dark now. He had never been without light. There had never been a moment when there was no light. Even when the light changed, it was still light. But now, save for the lanterns which remained, for those that rode with Maitimo had taken some, all was black.

Name after name was filled in, elf after elf telling him what they wanted their name to mean. He had done those that rode with Maitimo already. All he had done was asked how they wanted to be remembered and that became their name. Turcanfinwë had become Celegorm and his father was now Fëanor. What was left of the twins was Amras, the other would have been Amrod. Maitimo would be Maedhros. Curufinwë became Curufin and Carnistir was now Caranthir. He was Maglor. The Sindarin names sounded better to him. They had left who they were behind and became new. Both clean and tarnished. They had come from Valinor, leaving a trail of blood and death, started again in what was to be called Beriland. But even with leaving their kin behind, the stain of their wrongdoings followed them. They could never truly escape. Even if a thousand years passed.

To Maglor, waiting for news of the battle, it seemed as if a thousand years had passed, but pass they did. In the uncountable stretch of time that was the darkness, a horse arrived, limping, carrying a single elleth, Fëarillë she had been. Her cloak was torn and the rich red of it stained with darker shades. Her armour was dented and covered in a dried crust of blood. Part of a once white tunic had been torn up to bandage around her arm. She was paler than anyone he had ever seen and her hair, what was left of it, was tangled.

“I request an audience with Curu-Curufinwë.” her voice shook as she spoke, pain written across her face as she dismounted and blood beaded on her side.

“It is Fëanor you wish to speak to?”

“Curufinwë, Fëanaro, Fëanor, I don't care!”

“This way Fëarillë, I will send for him.”

“I don't have time. Just get me there, or does he no longer care about his sons?”

The guard seemed flustered, his hands waving through the air in vaguely confused motions.

“I will take her.” Maglor spoke at last, walking up to Fëarillë. He didn't know why he was volunteering to face his father's wrath, but apparently he was.

Fëarillë started to walk towards the main tent, Maglor accompanying her.

“Fëarillë, what a, surprise.” Fëanor spoke softly as she pushed the opening of the tent open.

#Silm #silmarillion #maglor #ATLOT

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jolienjoyswriting · 5 years

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Mortem In Contumeliam FFVI, Ch. X

Chapter 10 of "Mortem In Contumeliam Final Fantasy VI," a Final Fantasy VI fan fiction story.

Just gonna say this, now: those with a sensitive constitution may want to skip a few-dozen paragraphs – or, maybe skip the chapter, itself. It's… violent. That being said… I had a lot of fun writing this one. Maybe… too much? Uwee hee hee~

Word count: 5,717 – Character count: 32,976 Originally written: July 22nd, 2019 Significantly revised on: July 31st, 2019

Finally, peace is achieved! Or, so it seems…

Final Fantasy VI, Wedge, Biggs, and related characters, scenarios, and properties created by Square Soft, Inc. and © Square Enix Co, Ltd.

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter →> ]

Despite the anger and threats, Celes did follow Wedge back out of the woods and, just like the soldier had promised, he reported her actions to General Christophe. Much like Wedge, the general didn’t seem terribly interested in the “Kefka conspiracy,” simply escorting the traitor to a holding cell below deck with a promise to deal with her when they got back to Vector. And, that was the end of that situation, for the time.

Later that day, the soldiers at the ship were given a report via radio: the party of Lock and Tina, joined by the Blue Mage named Stragos and the precocious youth named Lilum, had found the Eidolons that ravaged Vector hiding in a cave. Why were they hiding? Because… they were ashamed of themselves. As Tina and Stragos explained, the Eidolon who had attacked the down, as well as Setzer’s Blackjack airship, hadn’t intended to do so. Those who attacked had been waiting at the gate of the Eidolon World, anxious for a chance to find their missing brethren and rescue them. When the gate was opened by Tina, something snapped in each of their minds and they went into a frenzy! It was only after the damage had been done that they regained control of themselves.

But, why hide in that particular cavern? As it just so happened, the aptly-named “Eidolon Holy Land” was actually a place of high magic and, in the center of the cave, rested statues the old gods of all: The Warring Triad! The Eidolons, feeling the familiar sensation of high magic, fled there to regroup and formulate a plan to fix the chaos they’d caused. And, it was there that Lock’s company found the magical beings.

The following day, “A-Team” had escorted the Eidolons out of the cavern and through the woods. After meeting with the general’s “B-Team” – a team comprised of himself and the Magitek Soldier named Wedge, by that point – the entire group headed to the northeast. That afternoon… a prelude to a meeting of minds like none other took place.

On one side of the Samasa town square were the humans – well, mostly. Standing behind the Gestahlian envoy of General Christophe and his remaining soldier was Tina, a half-Eidolon… Lock, a wandering treasure hunter… the old mage, Stragos, and a young girl, Lilum. “I am Leo, an Imperial general,” the general greeted. “May I ask your name?” “I am Yura.” That was the answer of the man-shaped being with long, white hair and covered in light-brown fur with some spikes protruding from his head and elbows. He seemed to be the representing speaker on the other side – the side of the Eidolons, who were fantastic shapes and many sizes – much like Leo was representing the humans.

“We have done… horrific things to you all…” the magical being said with a long sigh and a look of shame on his face. “It would be unthinkable to ask forgiveness, but…” “No. We understand,” Leo assured him. “We have no interest in condemning you for mistakes made. On the contrary; we are ashamed for thinking of you as no more than a source of power for war! To ask for forgiveness for our actions is truly what is unthinkable.” “I…” The Eidolon seemed at a loss of words, for a moment. “We… are grateful,” he finally managed to say. “Thank you.”

“Well, that’s that, then.”

Tina looked beside her. Lock was dusting his hands and looking proud of himself. “We found the Eidolons, so our job’s done!” he said to no one in particular. “Hey, maybe we can finally take a break from all this ‘end of the world’ biz, huh?” He turned to his companion with a cheesy grin. The blond-haired girl couldn’t help but smile. She, too, hoped for a reprieve from all the chaos of the last month.

“I cannot thank you enough for your help,” General Christophe said as he returned to the quartet. “Tina. Lock. Stragos and Lilum. This would not be possible without you.” Lock sniffed, rubbing his nose and grinning. “It’s no big deal, Leo!” “On the contrary. This could be the start of something very big!” “If you say so… Say, where’s Celes? I have… a couple words for her.” “Ah…” Leo gave a sad sort of frown. “Walk this way, please.” Tina gave a blink as Lock walked away with Leo. A moment later, she turned her head to the other side. His loyal soldier had walked up beside her without a word.

“Hello, again, Mister Wedge,” she greeted with a smile. The Magitek Soldier faintly smiled at the girl, tipping his helmet to her. “You’re, uh, lookin’ pretty good for someone who wandered the entire region on-foot.” “It was… peaceful. Mostly…” She fidgeted before asking, “H-how have you been?” “It’s… been an interesting time,” was all he felt like telling her. “Hanging out with Leo’s been mostly fun. Not a huge fan of Celes, but she’s not a huge fan of me, so!” She tilted her head, curious about what he meant. However, she let it pass. “Where’s your friend, Mister Biggs?” she asked. “I didn’t see him on the ship, earlier.” Wedge finally frowned. “You’re, uh… you’re not gonna see much of him, anymore…” All-at-once, Tina gave a sympathetic frown of her own. “I’m so sorry…” “I’d be lying if I said ‘it’s okay…’” He paused, thinking about what happened. “I’ll… be alright,“ he said after a few moments. “I’m gonna have to be…” “Have you talked to my dad, at all?” She reached over, putting a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re ever feeling sad or lonely…” “Oh! Actually… I forgot he was with me.” The soldier smiled and patted his chest as he said, “He’s so quiet, it’s like he’s practically not even here!” There was another pause. Wedge noticed Tina tilting her head with a look of intense concentration… He was about to ask what she was doing… “Ah–!” When she suddenly threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

“T… Tina…?” he said with a heavy blush. “What–” “No matter what happens…” she whispered in a soft, warm way, “I’ll never stop believing in you… Don’t ever doubt yourself, Mister Wedge… You’re smarter… braver… stronger than you think. I know because… so am I. At least…” She leaned back, giving him the sweetest sort of smile. “That’s what my dad told me.” “Your, uh… your dad is pretty smart,” was Wedge’s reply. He pulled an arm free, then gently ruffled the girl’s hair as he added, “I should talk to him, sometime. Who knows… Maybe, he’ll stop being so shy and actually talk back!” Tina giggled before hugging the soldier a little more. Not long after… he draped his free arm around her, returning the gesture – though, not quite as tightly. And, that moment lasted… “Hold that pose!” Until another voice broke the peace.

Wedge looked around… then, he looked down. Standing nearby was a much younger girl with short, golden hair. She wore an airy, blue beret with a gold, circular pattern and some feathers coming off the top, a small cloak with a brooch on the collar, a form-fitting, black bustier top, and yellow, silken pants with blue boots. Curiously… she was also writing something onto what looked like a small pad of paper.

“Can I help you…?” he asked as he and Tina both looked her way. “No-no, just stay like that for abooout…” She paused. “That long!” Suddenly, she tucked her pad under her beret, then put the quill onto her hat. “You get Lilum’s blessing!” she said, giving a thumbs-up and a wink, then wandered off. “Um… thanks…?” the soldier awkwardly replied. As Tina gave another giggle, he asked her what that was all about. “That was Lilum,” the girl explained as she finally stopped hugging him. “She likes to draw and paint, so I guess she was sketching us for later?” “I… see.” The affectionate blond smiled and shrugged, then she stared at her friend, prompting him to start a new topic.

“Guess we’re headed back to Vector, huh?” “I guess so!” Tina chipperly replied. “I’m looking forward to it.” “Really?” Wedge tilted his head. “Why? What’s in Vector?” “Peace between humanity and Eidolon-kind!” “O– oh-oh, yeah! Heh, yeah – me, too!” Though, honestly, he was mostly just looking forward to his “date…” “Once we have peace… then, maybe…” He gave another blink. Tina was slowly strutting around him with her arms behind her back and a soft smile on her face. She was also looking right at him the whole time. “We can have coffee… like you offered?” She brightly smiled as she told him, “I don’t like coffee very much… but, I’m looking forward to spending time with you!” Wedge made a lot of random vowel sounds, completely thrown off-guard by that statement. He had not expected her to bring it up… much less seem tot excited about it. Eventually, though… he just smiled right back, giving a thumbs-up.

The atmosphere was very light as the group prepared to head out of the village and back to the boat. Lock and Leo seemed engrossed in conversation, though neither seemed to be smiling. Stragos and Lilum were talking, the latter sketching the various magical creatures who would pose for her while the former told her not to bother them and apologized on her behalf. Even a few of the townsfolk seemed interested in what was going on and, to Leo and Wedge’s surprise, exposed themselves as magic-users as they exchanged techniques with some of the Eidolons.

After his business with Lock, Leo had walked over to Tina and Wedge, talking to the former for a little while the latter simply listened. Suddenly, though, the lattermost realized… “Hang on… Why didn’t the rest of the soldiers come with us?” Not a second after he asked, a haunting laugh ripped through the area, alerting everyone in the square! Then… who should arrive from the south but the owner of the laugh.

“General Kefka?!”

Following his entrance, the group heard the familiar clatter of metal feet stomping their way. As they ran into the area, one of them ran right through Kefka, bowling him over… but, he didn’t seem to care as he got right back up and laughed, again. Soon, it became painfully obvious that the disgraced general had prepared for a big fight… When all the noise died down, the group saw that several Magitek Armor units had arrived along with a legion of foot soldiers. Seeing the great number of units puzzled Wedge. There had only been two armor units on the ship and a handful of brown-suits. But, there had to be six-or-seven armor units and at least four times as many soldiers on-foot, surrounding the area and blocking off all exits. This did not go unnoticed by another person near him.

“Kefka?! You’re supposed to be in prison!” Leo shouted as he ran over to meet the colorfully-clothed man. “Where did all these troops come from?! How did you even get here?” “Well, Leo, I just flew in from Vector,” the man in the clown makeup told him, “and, boy, are my arms tired! Hyo-ho-hooo!!” “What are you even doing here…?” “I thought I’d take the Empire’s newest ship out for a cruise,” he said in a much calmer voice, “and come here and do some light shopping– oh, what do you think I’m here for, fool?!” “Pecan pie and a glass of lemonade?” Lock smartly suggested. “Oh.” He grinned. “Oh, I like him.” Kefka flicked a finger toward the man in the bandanna. “Kill him, first.”

With no warning other than the threat, the Magitek Armor pilots moved into position, then let loose torrents of magic-powered beams of fire, ice, lightning, and raw energy, tearing holes in buildings, scorching the grass and stone of the square, and burning everything that was flammable… even some things that weren’t! No one had been prepared for an attack and, despite putting up a decent fight, everyone who dared to counter the soldiers wa either killed or knocked unconscious. Even Lock’s group took some heavy blows, the party of four knocked senseless!

“Kefka!!”

As the raid rolled on, the madman who started it had found something to occupy his time: attacking an innocent woman and her child! When he heard a voice call his name, he looked up from kicking the woman in the head, then turned around. General Christophe had run over to him, again. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Leo angrily shouted. “Hee, hee, hee…” He grinned before singing, “Emperor’s ooorderrrs.” Leo went wide-eyed. “What?!” “‘Bring back the Eidolon as Magicite.’ That’s what he said, yes, indeed! Now, behold! I’ve developed a top-secret technique to reduce those pesky, fight-y beasties into nice, bite-sized Magicite for easy carrying!”

Kefka whipped his cape around and set his eyes on something. Leo’s eyes focused on his viewpoint and, over in the distance, he could see that Yura had gathered the other Eidolons behind a building. From what he could gather, Yura, being the eldest of the younglings, was trying to comfort them – they all looked absolutely terrified!

“Gods of life giveth, gods of life taketh away! Death!!” Yura turned around… only to go wide-eyed. Before he could even think about reacting… he felt something cold touch him. Briefly, he looked up to the grim, semi-translucent specter looming overhead, scythe in-hand and a black cowl over its frightening, skeletal body. He tried to scream… tried to breathe… but, in a near-instant, he found his body failing him. Then… “Nooooo…!!” A younger Eidolon screamed. Yura’s body exploded into stardust before being drawn upward to where his soul was hanging. It was there that it formed and crystallized in a bright flash of light… before that crystal flew across the town and into the waiting hands of evil, itself. Not a second later, he leveled his mad grin and narrowed eyes at the other creatures.

“Boo.”

Kefka barely had to whisper a single word to send the Eidolons scattering! “How stupid!!” he cackled. A second later, he stopped laughing and turned around, staring at General Christophe with a cool, almost bored expression. “How… how could you…?” the general asked, his face crestfallen. “Well, first, I had to inject myself with the right Eidolon blood,” the colorful whacko explained with his usual jovial demeanor. “Then, I had to master my new magical powers! It wasn’t easy, let me tell you! So many good soldiers sacrificed themselves to– oh, oh! Do you mean ‘How could you possibly know how that when an Eidolon dies, it becomes Magicite which can then be used to give someone magical abilities and skills?’ Well… we had a little help…” He looked beyond the general, wickedly grinning as his eyes focused on a new target. Leo slowly turned around… only to gasp as he realized who he was looking at. “Wedge…?!”

The soldier went wide-eyed, looking as surprised as Leo! Almost immediately, he shook his head and waved his hands in a “no” gesture. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with Kefka! “Wait, that’s not–? Oh, this is embarrassing!” the armored magician said with a laugh. “Where’s my little lackey? What’s his name? ‘Biggles?’ ‘Bixby?’” “‘Biggs…?!’” Wedge shouted in surprise. “Yes, that’s his name! Ah, Sir Biggsda has been quite the diligent little minion!” “Y… you’re lying!” he screamed. “Biggs would never–” “Why, if it wasn’t for him, the Empire never would have figured out that Eidolons are more valuable dead than alive!! Uwee hee hee… now, where is my little soldier boy? I’d like to thank him, personally! Here, Biggsda! Come here, boy!” Kefka started whistling and patting his legs, trying to call Biggs… who, apparently, had been working for him the whole time.

“Kefka!!” “E’yeeeees?” The mad general whipped his head toward Wedge and gave him a wide-eyed, attentive look. The soldier had drawn Celes’ “borrowed” sword, holding it with both hands. He didn’t know if he was more furious with Kefka for treating his best friend like a lap-dog… or, with Celes for her “insane” theory being true. He just knew he had to take it out on someone!

“This… is for Biiiiiggs…!!” General Christophe gave a blink. Wedge had run all the way over to Kefka and taken a swipe at him. However… “Bad dog! No treats for you!” The sorcerous madman had deflected it with a polearm. A second later… “Wedge!!” The soldier was knocked clear across the village by a fireball from the sky! “Kefka, you– what?” And, just like that… Kefka walked away, seemingly disinterested in following up.

“Poo, this village is no fun!” he said in a pouty way. “Burn it all to ashes!! Let’s see if we can’t make something more interesting from what remains!” Without a word, the soldier Kefka had moved over to – as well as all the others – walked into town. Everyone riding armor set their weapons to use only fire while the foot soldiers ripped limbs off trees and loose planks from buildings, setting those ablaze before using them against the town. And, as everything started catching fire… Kefka just laughed.

“Kefka!” Leo shouted as he ran over to the former general, again. “Stop this! Now!” “‘Oh, Kefka, stop!’” he said in a mocking town. “‘Oh, you’re such a bad-bad man! How could you be so evil?’” It seemed like he was going to laugh… but, his face went deathly serious, instead. “Get him out of my face.” “What…?!” And, before he could turn around to see his assailant… Leo was bashed over the head with a chunk of wood by a random, nameless soldier, immediately falling unconscious.

Just two nights prior, the village of Samasa experienced a fire at the house of a rich child. As Stragos and the others found out… he had invited Lilum over to show off his wealth and, in an attempt to impress her, accidentally ignited a storage room of Fire Rods with a poorly-planned Fire spell. But, even that blaze was nothing compared to what Kefka was doing… The first thing he did was order the tree in the town square burned. From there, other trees were burned for no other reason than “they’re ugly.” The elder’s house to the northwest was ransacked and robbed of anything worth money, then razed to the ground along with the nearby vegetable garden – Kefka always hated vegetables. The house near that caught fire, shortly after, which gave the madman the idea to burn the others, himself. It was no surprise to his soldiers when he accidentally caught himself on fire, but after rolling on the ground and dousing his cape, he ordered the soldiers to start smashing through the flaming cottages and generally ruin everything to a point of being unrecognizable. But, before Kefka could make sure that happened… “Kefka!!” A familiar voice called out to him.

“Welcome back!” he laughed as he watched Leo run up, yet again. “Enjoy your nap?” Though Kefka was laughing… Leo was not. “I cannot… will not… overlook your actions, any longer!” he shouted, drawing his sparkling blade. “Prison is too good for you! Prepare yourself!!” His opponent just yawned… then, he smirked. “Come at me.”

All action in the village came to a stop as the sound of Leo’s Crystal Sword and Kefka’s Partisan clashed time-and-time-again. Between the former’s strength and the latter’s agility, the two were evenly-matched in physical combat… which is why Kefka decided to cheat. “Have this!” he shouted as he started launching quickfire spells at the general. “And, this! And, this– and, this– and, this– and, thiiis!!” Leo rolled out of the way as a fireball crashed to the ground, scorching a wide area around the point-of-impact. The bolt of lightning that followed it zapped the burning tree he ran under, which also served as a shield to absorb the other three spells – Bio, Drain, and Poison. “Dammit! Hold still and take your punishment like a good boy!” Kefka angrily yelled. “You, first!”

The Magitek Knight tilted his head, readying another spell when he noticed the general closing his eyes. “Shock!!” General Christophe spun his sword around before vanishing from sight! “What the hell?! Where did you– gyaaah!!” Suddenly, Kefka felt something cut him from the side. Before he could turn to see what happened, he was struck from the other side. “No– wuh– nooo!!” Several more marks cut his body before a virtual whirlwind of slashes ripped his clothes and tore his flesh! He tried to resist… tried to run… but, it was too late. In a flash of light even brighter than Eidolon becoming Magicite… the mad mage was brought to the ground, battered, bruised, embarrassed, and utterly defeated.

“I can’t believe it had to come to this…” Leo muttered as he stood over the ruined body of his opponent. He was about to roll the dead man over… when he noticed. “No blood… What…?” “That’s Leo for you, putting me through all this! Hah!” He looked around. Kefka’s body had vanished, but his voice could still be heard… “Kefka…?!” the general angrily shouted after catching his breath. “Where are you…?! Show yourself!!” “Emperor Gestahl… oh, Emperor Gestahl… Yooooo-hoo…” He gave a blink. “E-Emperor Gestahl…?” “Come here, please…” the voice beckoned before fading into indecipherable mumbling. Not long after… “Leo.” The general spun around. Out of nowhere… Emperor Gestahl had arrived!

“E-Emperor!” he said taking a knee. “Ah, Leo… my most trusted general…” “Emperor…” Leo looked up with a frown. “Kefka, he–” “I apologize for having deceived you.” “W-what…?” He had to blink, at that. “Your journey to this place… Your recruitment of our former enemies… All of this… was simply to obtain more Magicite for the war effort.” “I… I… no…” The general was speechless. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing…

“You do understand my motives… don’t you?” “I… I don’t–” “No-no… don’t say it, Leo.” Gestahl waved a hand and offered a somber sort of smile. “It is not as though I do not understand your feelings. I simply… do not care.” He gave another blink… “You… don’t care…?” “Hee, hee, hee… you heard our leader!” Kefka’s voice suddenly rang out. “He doesn’t caaare! Our main goal is collecting Magicite, now – in any way possible!” “B… but… Emperor, was all this talk of peace…? Was it all just a lie?”

General Christophe’s head hung low as he ruminated on the words of his emperor. Nothing made sense, to him… The Emperor had sounded so sincere about meeting with the Eidolons… only to release Kefka to come in behind him and attack everyone in sight? “This doesn’t make sense… this doesn’t make sense!!” he roared, pounding the stone under his feet. “If this has been your goal all along, then… then, why bother going to such lengths?! Why the lies?! Why did you even bother sending me and my men on all those missions to seek out living Eidolons?! “Don’t worry yourself with such trivial thoughts,” Gestahl said as he bent down, meeting his general at eye level. “Your job is done.” Leo looked up, staring into the emperor’s eyes. “What…?”

“Leo… I would like you to take some time off.” The color left the general’s face. There was a sharp pain at his side and he felt sick… A second later, he looked down to see… “A… poisoned dagger…?” “Yes… some time off… A very… veeery looong time, uwee hee hee hee hee!!”

To the general’s horror, the face of Emperor Gestahl was changing… Slowly, it shifted into the white, maniacal face of the man who had set the village on fire. “K… Kefka…!” The insane man chuckled and gave a grin. “Surprise!”

Leo reached for his sheathed sword only to be kicked in the chin as Kefka backflipped away. When he looked up, he saw that his opponent was taking slow, heel-to-toe strides toward him, holding another dagger in his hand and licking his lips… “The me you beat…” he explained in a calm, sinister voice. “That was an illusion of me!” “No…” the general gasped. Slowly, he got to his feet… only to keel over backward. “And, that spineless Emperor Gestahl? Oh, you had better believe that he was fake, too! So, tell me, Leeeeeooo…” Leo rapidly panted, a look of terror on his face as Kefka knelt beside him… “How can you be a general…” he whispered, “if you can’t even tell the difference… between an illusion and the genuine article…?”

General Christophe scuttled backward, drawing his sword only for Kefka to stand and snap-kick it out of his hand. He continued scuttling until he found himself out of places to go. With his back against a building wall, he looked up, watching the villain get closer-and-closer… “You’ve always been so pretentious, so self-righteous…!” he hissed, his smile all-but-gone and curled into a horrible frown. “And, you’re always…” Suddenly, he pounced at the general, stabbing him right in the neck with a dull dagger. “Always…!” He growled as he yanked it out and stabbed Leo’s chest straight through his armor. “Always-always-always…!” he half-shrieked as he jammed the knife in a couple of other places before throwing it away. When he pulled Leo up by his collar, he shoved his colorless face into the generals, eyes locked onto his. “Always…” he whispered, “acting like such a goody-two-shoes…” “K… Kefka…” Leo gasped, coughing up blood onto the clown-like criminal’s face. He didn’t seem to notice as Kefka licked it up… “Honorless… haa…” he said in a raspy, weak tone. He probably had more to say… but, he was in no condition to say it.

“Hee…” Slowly, the maniacal man let the general down, leaving him on his deathbed. “It’s going to be sooo saaad, telling the Emperor that you betrayed him.” Kefka stood up, brushing himself off and adjusting his cloak. “That’s what I’d say if it didn’t bring me such joy!” He spun around, looking over the village for a moment. “Burn, burn, and don’t stop burning until you’re nothing more than an ugly stain!!” The man laughed… then, he spun back around, drawing another dagger. “I wonder how many more holes I can put in you before you stop bleeding…?” He rubbed the flat of the blade against his cheek, then gave it a long, almost passionate sort of lick from the tip of the edge and down to its hilt. “I guess there’s only one way to find out!” With that… “Die, die, die!!” Kefka continued to mutilate the already-dead body of the finest general to ever serve the Gestahlin Empire. –––––

“Th-th-this is insane…!! Wh-wh-what am I even doing here!! I… I need to get out of here!! I can’t run!! I’m a loyal soldier!! What if I just helped out?! Why would I do that?! I’m not cut out to serve this empire!! I need to leave!! I want my mommy!! This is all my dad’s fault!! What’s going on – who am I…?! I– I–”

As the village of Samasa continued to crackle and burn, and amidst the horrifying noises of a blade being repeatedly… relentlessly… plunged into flesh, a survivor had curled into a fetal position, holding his head and breathing uncontrollably. He had been knocked unconscious… only to wake up just as General Christophe met his grizzly end. Seeing the village burning… hearing those horrifying noises… the whole situation had thrown him into a state of panic – he didn’t know what to do… where to go… or even where he was! In short: his mind had shattered.

“Help…” the man wearing orange-red armor whispered to no one. “Somebody, help…” “Eh? What’s that?” The soldier yelped, slamming his eyes close and curling up even tighter. He could hear… something – something he couldn’t have identified even if he wasn’t losing his mind. But, that wasn’t what made him flinch. He was sure… so very sure… that Kefka had realized he was hiding in the well and come to murder him, too! However… “What’s this tingly feeling… Magic? Powerful magic…! Hee hee… hee-hee!!” He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“H-hang on!” squeaked a tiny voice from the other side of town. “We're coming to save you!!” another, deeper voice called. “Hurry!! Hurry up!! There’s no time!”

Hearing those voices call out, brave and true, briefly snapped the soldier in the well out of his mind-break. A moment later, he peeked out… only to go wide-eyed. “Well, well…” Kefka said with a smirk. “If it isn’t the Eidolons!”

Just as the lunatic had said, the Eidolon younglings had found their courage and flew into the horrible scene, attacking soldiers, casting magic at their vehicles and just generally trying to help. Unfortunately for them… it did little to deter the person who’d ordered the attack.

“I’ll be honest,” Kefka laughed, “I was surprised at your sudden arrival… but, now that you’re here, allow me to give you a proper welcome! After all…” His eyes narrowed and his smirk turned dark. “It means you’re giving li’l ol’ me even more Magicite presents. Hee-hee.”

The soldier in the well wanted to cry out… he wanted to shout for the Eidolons to fly away. But, something trapped his voice in his throat. Was it fear? No, it was something deeper than that… Even though he’d regained his wits… he was still terrified nearly to death. All he could do was continue to watch the horrible events unfold as they did.

“So, since you all want to be turned to Magicite,” Kefka continued after a moment, “I’ll do just that! But, first… let’s neutralize those pesky magic powers of yours, hm?” The madman started quietly chanting… Not long after, he threw his hands into the air, sending out a blinding flash of light that caused the hidden soldier to fall down the well with another splash! By the time he climbed back up and looked around… he noticed that all the other soldiers… had vanished without a trace. Even their Magitek Armor had vanished! Moreover, Kefka seemed to have an odd glow about him… “Now, O Eidolons…” the deranged magic-knight called, “Humor me as I really cut loose! Oh, I’m going to enjoy this!”

Kefka chanted, throwing his hands in the air like he just didn’t care! Each time he did, voids of darkness flew across the area, each homing in on a random creature flying through the air. As soon as it made contact, the Eidolon took their last breath before bursting and reforming into Magicite, then flying right into Kefka’s waiting mitts, just like Yura had. And… the evil man just laughed-and-laughed each time he caught one. It was almost like a game to him – in fact, the one time he did miss a crystal, he loudly cursed at himself… only to keep going.

“Oh? You intend to fight li’l ol’ me?” he said after the sixth-or-seventh successful catch. Something was heading his way… “Well, by all means!” Just like that, a massive man-beast with horrible, curled horns and nasty, sharp teeth came down with an earth-shaking crash, snarling at Kefka… who just yawned and grinned.

“You monster…!” the Eidolon roared as it stood up, revealing its full height to be that of a small house. “You took the lives of my brothers and sisters, and for what?! What did we ever do to you?!” “Imbecile,” the madman scoffed. “I can’t belieeeve you Eidolons don’t realize that you’re just tools and nothing more!” “You’re the tool!!” the massive creature retorted. “Have this!!”

He waved a hand, a small blaze engulfing his opponent. When the flames cleared… Kefka was still standing there, laughing. “What… Th-that’s not possible!” “Anything is possible… with enough imaaagination!” he taunted. “Imagine this, then!” With a wave of both hands, the ground tore open, slashing Kefka with a super-heated blade of fire! But, just like before, he was not only unaffected… “That tickles!” But, unimpressed.

“I will end you for what you’ve done!!” the Eidolon screamed, sounding somewhat like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Regardless, he was done playing around. He clapped his hands together then shakily pulled them apart, revealing a growing ball of fire between them. It grew larger-and-larger, scorching the ground and causing the very air to quiver from its heat. After a moment of charging, he brought it into one hand and threw it into the air… only for it to streak at Kefka like a meteor, hitting him squarely and violently exploding! The fireball demolished a nearby building and throwing what was left of Leo’s body far away! The soldier in the well felt its effects, too, losing his grip on the suddenly-scalding stones and hitting the water for the third time. He tried to climb back up only to flinch and drop down – his well had become something of a steam bath, from that attack… but, he didn’t dare try to escape. Something far worse than being boiled alive was up there…

“Pitiful…!” he heard Kefka scoff. “You couldn't possibly beat me with something like that, hee hee!” “You… you survived?!” the Eidolon asked, sounding dumbfounded. “Of course, I did!” was the man’s reply. “Now, turn to Magicite and, together, we will forge the Magical Empire of Kefka Palazzo!!” “N-nuts to this–! I’m outta here!!”

The soldier finally worked up the nerve to climb back up… only to duck back down a second later! The fiery beast had run right over the well, thankfully avoiding it… “Boop!” Not a long after… “No…” He gasped his last breath and broke apart, becoming Magicite before going to Kefka’s waiting, grabby hands.

“Oho ho ho!” he chuckled. “This one’s warm to the touch! How very gratifying!” He gave a nasty sort of laugh… then, he sighed. “I’m bored, now. Who’d have guessed Eidolons were such weak creatures? It’s no fun fighting if you’re not even going to try! So, let me save you the embarrassment…”

The soldier in the well watched as Kefka channeled his energy. Moments later, a series of dark orbs flew away from his hands. The sky flashed a series of bright colors… then, Kefka found himself with an armload of freshly-made Magicite.

0 notes

let-the-bands-take-c0ntrol · 7 years

Text

Coincidence

A/N: So this was like a very unrealistic request. So I’m gonna change some stuff. Also I kind of cut this imagines into three sectioned parts

You stood up on your toes to look over the crowd of people as they cheered loudly. That could only mean that one of the guys had come out to greet fans and you were hoping to be one of those lucky people. It had been months since you’d bought your tickets to see the Jacks perform and now that the time has come you were excited to see them. Luckily for you, you had gotten a great deal on the tickets; second row seats and a meet & greet. “I swear it happened! She said Brendon Urie looked right at her and even pointed her out in the crowd,” your best friend, Lilia, shouted. Your attention was brought back on her and you rolled your eyes.

“In a crowd of like a hundred plus people? Sounds completely unrealistic,” you told her, “And from what I heard Kaitlin was in the fifteenth row!” You went back to trying to get a glimpse of at least one of the guys. Like all concert gatherings some people started to push about from the excitement and you found yourself clutching Lilia’s arm to keep your balance.

“Eh you’re probably right I mean Kaitlin is known to be a liar,” she continued to talk. You found yourself becoming easily distracted and soon the screaming of fans could be heard closer to you this time.

“I wonder which Jack is out here,” you mumbled to Lilia, who had abruptly stopped talking and was staring behind you dumbfounded. “What?” you shouted, covering your ears as the screams grew louder. Lilia’s eyes widened and her eyebrows rose. Instead of answering you verbally, Lilia pointed behind you. You slowly turned around only to come face to face with Jack Gilinsky. The smile on his face grew as he looked at you. “H-Hi,” you managed to say, subtly pinching at your thigh to make sure this was actually happening.

“Hi,” Gilinsky repeated, before he was able to say more Johnson had shouted out for him. He gave you a sheepish wave goodbye before jogging back inside to get ready. You couldn’t help but to feel butterflies. It was unusual and you had never seen Gilinsky look at someone the way he had looked at you before. Just as fast as the Jacks had left, everyone was ushered inside the venue.

Gilinksy had been too quiet for Johnson’s liking. It was as if the darker haired boy had seen a ghost and was too petrified to say anything about it. Johnson waved his fingers in front of Gilinsky’s face. “Yo,” he said, dragging out the vowel, “Are you alright man?” Johnson questioned, flicking at Gilinsky’s nose this time. Gilinsky shook his head and blinked twice in response to Johnson.

“Have you ever seen something so beautiful?” Gilinsky asked in a mutter. Johnson’s eyebrows furrowed and he shrugged.

“That depends on what you’re talking about. . . What’s going on did you see someone?” Gilinsky nodded in response. His mind tracing back to the girl he had just saw. The two had barely said a word to one another and he was already sprung.

“She’s here and she’s beautiful and I-”

“And you don’t even know her name,” Johnson butted in. He let out a small chuckle and laughed at his friend. “Besides there’s like a ton of girls out there, she’s lost in the crowd man.” Gilinsky wasn’t amused at his friend’s joking mood. He wasn’t sure why, but he had felt such strong emotions the minute he looked at you. It was almost like love at first sight, but it couldn’t have been that. Jack barely knew you and Johnson was right, he had no idea what your name was.

“I have to find her after the show, or at least try looking for her in the crowd,” Gilinsky said. He shook his head, knowing good and well that find you in that crowd of people was impossible. “Let’s warm up a bit,” he suggested, starting to sing a few lines from “Cold Hearted” all the while thinking of the girl he had just met. Soon they were headed out towards the stage.

The crowd cheered as the Jacks ran up on stage each one of them shouting out a greeting and even grabbing some of the fans hands. “How’s everyone doing tonight!?!” Johnson shouted, eliciting more cheers from the crowd. “Well Gilinsky and I thought that since it’s the weekend we should start off with All Weekend Long. What do y’all think?” More screaming can be heard and both of the guys smiled.

“I think they like that idea, Johnson,” Gilinsky laughed, the starting chords to “All Weekend Long” beginning to play out. Gilinsky began to sing, the concert picking up from there. It was halfway through the concert that Jack recognized the familiar face he had seen earlier and for a moment the girl could’ve sworn Gilinsky had stared right her too.

You felt giddy. Bouncing on the balls of your feet as you waited to meet the Jacks. You were very much excited to see Jack Gilinsky. You weren’t sure if it was in your head, but it felt almost as if Jack had been singing to you throughout the concert. Like his eyes had been following your every move. You knew it was crazy and completely impossible for him to have noticed you, but of course like every stan, your thoughts ran wild. “I’m going to ask Johnson to hold me for the picture, what do you think?” Lilia asked, poking at your side and looking over everyone’s shoulder.

“That’ll be a cute picture,” you mumbled, chewing at your bottom lip as the two of you neared closer and closer to the boys. Lilia could tell something was on your mind and she poked at your side to get your full attention.

“Alright what’s wrong? You’ve been too quiet and that’s unusual especially with Jack & Jack standing less than five feet away,” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow at you. You knew Lilia wasn’t going to let up until you told her the truth, so you of course had to tell her.

“Okay maybe it was just in my head, but did you notice Gilinsky looking in our direction. . . mainly at me throughout the other half of the set?” you asked her. Lilia raised an eyebrow at your words and a small smile embraced her face.

“Who’s sounding like Kaitlin now,” she teased with a roll of her eyes. You frowned at her words and the two of you moved closer towards the topic of interest. “I’m kidding,” Lilia said, sending a playful punch to your arm. You let out a sigh and mumbled something under your breath. “I have to admit Gilinsky was looking in our direction, but like you said in a crowd of people it’s not possible,” she said, “Look we’re up next, so put a smile on that face.” You shook her words from your mind and did as she said. Johnson was the first one you greeted, his smile wide and eyes sparkling just like you’d seen in pictures. You couldn’t believe you were actually meeting them today.

“Hi,” you smiled, giving him a hug. You moved to the side and allowed Lilia to say hello, knowing Johnson was the one she really wanted to see. You turned around and was greeted by Gilinsky’s grin. Though the minute he laid eyes on you, his smile faded into shock.

“It’s you,” Gilinsky blurted. Your eyebrows furrowed at his words and he cleared his throat. “From earlier. I remember you from earlier,” he cleared up. Your lips parted in understanding.

“Oh yeah! You said hi to me. . . You remember that?” you muttered in confusion. After seeing so many people you weren’t sure if Jack had remembered at all. Jack leaned in towards your ear and you waited to hear what he had to say.

“I could never forget a beautiful face,” he whispered making you smile. “I know this is probably a b-” before Jack could finish his sentence the two of you were interrupted by the photographer telling you to pose. Lilia hopped up so that Johnson can pick her up and Gilinsky draped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his arms. He buried his face into the side of your neck and could feel his breath fan over your skin. Once a few pictures were taken, all with different poses, the two of you pulled apart. You waved goodbye at the two of them, but before you could leave Gilinsky pulled you back. “Wait for me afterwards? Please,” he said, looking at you hopefully.

“Yeah-okay,” you found yourself saying. You felt a tingle run down your spine and smiled at the thought of what Jack wanted to tell you.

#OGOC #Omaha Squad #Jack Gilinsky #Jack and Jack #ogoc imagines #Omaha Squad imagines #Jack Gilinsky imagines #ogoc blurbs #omaha squad blurbs #Jack Gilinksy blurbs #here ya go #ogocimagines

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loneberry · 7 years

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This sense of the beat or pulse underlying the whole // Denise Levertov, “Some Notes on Organic Form”

For me, back of the idea of organic form is the concept that there is a form in all things (and in our experience) which the poet can discover and reveal. There are no doubt temperamental differences between poets who use prescribed forms and those who look for new ones—people who need a tight schedule to get anything done, and people who have to have a free hand—but the difference in their conception of “content” or “reality” is functionally more important. On the one hand is the idea that content, reality, experience, is essentially fluid and must be given form; on the other, this sense of seeking out inherent, though not immediately apparent, form. Gerard Manley Hopkins invented the word “inscape” to denote intrinsic form, the pattern of essential characteristics both in single objects and (what is more interesting) in objects in a state of relation to each other, and the word “instress” to denote the experiencing of the perception of inscape, the apperception of inscape. In thinking of the process of poetry as I know it, I extend the use of these words, which he seems to have used mainly in reference to sensory phenomena, to include intellectual and emotional experience as well; I would speak of the inscape of an experience (which might be composed of any and all of these elements, including the sensory) or of the inscape of a sequence or constellation of experiences.

A partial definition, then, of organic poetry might be that it is a method of apperception, i.e., of recognizing what we perceive, and is based on an intuition of an order, a form beyond forms, in which forms partake, and of which man’s creative works are analogies, resemblances, natural allegories. Such poetry is exploratory.

How does one go about such a poetry? I think it’s like this: first there must be an experience, a sequence or constellation of perceptions of sufficient interest, felt by the poet intensely enough to demand of him their equivalence in words: he is brought to speech. Suppose there’s the sight of the sky through a dusty window, birds and clouds and bits of paper flying through the sky, the sound of music from his radio, feelings of anger and love and amusement roused by a letter just received, the memory of some long-past thought or event associated with what’s seen or heard or felt, and an idea, a concept, he has been pondering, each qualifying the other; together with what he knows about history; and what he has been dreaming—whether or not he remembers it—working in him. This is only a rough outline of a possible moment in a life. But the condition of being a poet is that periodically such a cross section, or constellation, of experiences (in which one or another element may predominate) demands, or wakes in him this demand: the poem. The beginning of the fulfillment of this demand is to contemplate, to meditate; words which connote a state in which the heat of feeling warms the intellect. To contemplate comes from “templum, temple, a place, a space for observation, marked out by the augur.” It means, not simply to observe, to regard, but to do these things in the presence of a god. And to meditate is “to keep the mind in a state of contemplation”; its synonym is “to muse,” and to muse comes from a word meaning “to stand with open mouth”—not so comical if we think of “inspiration”—to breathe in.

So—as the poet stands open-mouthed in the temple of life, contemplating his experience, there come to him the first words of the poem: the words which are to be his way in to the poem, if there is to be a poem. The pressure of demand and the meditation on its elements culminate in a moment of vision, of crystallization, in which some inkling of the correspondence between those elements occurs; and it occurs in words. If he forces a beginning before this point, it won’t work. These words sometimes remain the first, sometimes in the completed poem their eventual place may be elsewhere, or they may turn out to have been only forerunners, which fulfilled their function in bringing him to the words which are the actual beginning of the poem. It is faithful attention to the experience from the first moment of crystallization that allows those first or those forerunning words to rise to the surface: and with that same fidelity of attention the poet, from that moment of being let in to the possibility of the poem, must follow through, letting the experience lead him through the world of the poem, its unique inscape revealing itself as he goes.

During the writing of the poem the various elements of the poet’s being are in communion with each other, and heightened. Ear and eye, intellect and passion, interrelate more subtly than at other times; and the “checking for accuracy,” for precision of language, that must take place throughout the writing is not a matter of one element supervising the others but of intuitive interaction between all the elements involved.

In the same way, content and form are in a state of dynamic interaction; the understanding of whether an experience is a linear sequence or a constellation raying out from and into a central focus or axis, for instance, is discoverable only in the work, not before it.

Rhyme, chime, echo, reiteration: they not only serve to knit the elements of an experience but often are the very means, the sole means, by which the density of texture and the returning or circling of perception can be transmuted into language, apperceived. A may lead to E directly through B, C, and D: but if then there is the sharp remembrance or revisioning of A, this return must find its metric counterpart. It could do so by actual repetition of the words that spoke of A the first time (and if this return occurs more than once, one finds oneself with a refrain—not put there because one decided to write something with a refrain at the end of each stanza, but directly because of the demand of the content). Or it may be that since the return to A is now conditioned by the journey through B, C, and D, its words will not be a simple repetition but a variation . . . Again, if B and D are of a complementary nature, then their thought- or feeling-rhyme may find its corresponding word-rhyme. Corresponding images are a kind of nonaural rhyme. It usually happens that within the whole, that is between the point of crystallization that marks the beginning or onset of a poem and the point at which the intensity of contemplation has ceased, there are distinct units of awareness; and it is—for me anyway—these that indicate the duration of stanzas. Sometimes these units are of such equal duration that one gets a whole poem of, say, three-line stanzas, a regularity of pattern that looks, but is not, predetermined.

When my son was eight or nine I watched him make a crayon drawing of a tournament. He was not interested in the forms as such, but was grappling with the need to speak in graphic terms, to say, “And a great crowd of people were watching the jousting knights.” There was a need to show the tiers of seats, all those people sitting in them. And out of the need arose a formal design that was beautiful—composed of the rows of shoulders and heads. It is in very much the same way that there can arise, out of fidelity to instress, a design that is the form of the poem—both its total form, its length and pace and tone, and the form of its parts (e.g., the rhythmic relationships of syllables within the line, and of line to line; the sonic relationships of vowels and consonants; the recurrence of images, the play of associations, etc.). “Form follows function”(Louis Sullivan).

Frank Lloyd Wright in his autobiography wrote that the idea of organic architecture is that “the reality of the building lies in the space within it, to be lived in.” And he quotes Coleridge: “Such as the life is, such is the form.” (Emerson says in his essay “Poetry and Imagination,” “Ask the fact for the form.”) The Oxford English Dictionary quotes Huxley (Thomas, presumably) as stating that he used the word organic “almost as an equivalent for the word ‘living.’”

In organic poetry the metric movement, the measure, is the direct expression of the movement of perception. And the sounds, acting together with the measure, are a kind of extended onomatopoeia—i.e., they imitate not the sounds of an experience (which may well be soundless, or to which sounds contribute only incidentally), but the feeling of an experience, its emotional tone, its texture. The varying speed and gait of different strands of perception within an experience (I think of strands of seaweed moving within a wave) result in counterpointed measures.

Thinking about how organic poetry differs from free verse, I wrote that “most free verse is failed organic poetry, that is, organic poetry from which the attention of the writer had been switched off too soon, before the intrinsic form of the experience had been revealed.” But Robert Duncan pointed out to me that there is a “free verse” of which this is not true, because it is written not with any desire to seek a form, indeed perhaps with the longing to avoid form (if that were possible) and to express inchoate emotion as purely as possible. There is a contradiction here, however, because if, as I suppose, there is an inscape of emotion, of feeling, it is impossible to avoid presenting something of it if the rhythm or tone of the feeling is given voice in the poem. But perhaps the difference is this: that free verse isolates the “rightness” of each line or cadence—if it seems expressive, then never mind the relation of it to the next; while in organic poetry the peculiar rhythms of the parts are in some degree modified, if necessary, in order to discover the rhythm of the whole.

But doesn’t the character of the whole depend on, arise out of, the character of the parts? It does; but it is like painting from nature: suppose you absolutely imitate, on the palette, the separate colors of the various objects you are going to paint; yet when they are closely juxtaposed in the actual painting, you may have to lighten, darken, cloud, or sharpen each color in order to produce an effect equivalent to what you see in nature. Air, light, dust, shadow, and distance have to be taken into account.

Or one could put it this way: in organic poetry the form sense or “traffic sense,” as Stefan Wolpe speaks of it, is ever present along with (yes, paradoxically) fidelity to the revelations of meditation. The form sense is a sort of Stanislavsky of the imagination: putting a chair two feet downstage there, thickening a knot of bystanders upstage left, getting this actor to raise his voice a little and that actress to enter more slowly; all in the interest of a total form he intuits. Or it is a sort of helicopter scout flying over the field of the poem, taking aerial photos and reporting on the state of the forest and its creatures—or over the sea to watch for the schools of herring and direct the fishing fleet toward them.

A manifestation of form sense is the sense the poet’s ear has of some rhythmic norm peculiar to a particular poem, from which the individual lines depart and to which they return. I heard Henry Cowell tell that the drone in Indian music is known as the horizon note. Al Kresch, the painter, sent me a quotation from Emerson: “The health of the eye demands a horizon.” This sense of the beat or pulse underlying the whole I think of as the horizon note of the poem. It interacts with the nuances or forces of feeling which determine emphasis on one word or another, and decides to a great extent what belongs to a given line. It relates the needs of that feeling-force which dominates the cadence to the needs of the surrounding parts and so to the whole.

Duncan also pointed to what is perhaps a variety of organic poetry: the poetry of linguistic impulse. It seems to me that the absorption in language itself, the awareness of the world of multiple meaning revealed in sound, word, syntax, and the entering into this world in the poem, is as much an experience or constellation of perceptions as the instress of nonverbal sensuous and psychic events. What might make the poet of linguistic impetus appear to be on another tack entirely is that the demands of his realization may seem in opposition to truth as we think of it; that is, in terms of sensual logic. But the apparent distortion of experience in such a poem for the sake of verbal effects is actually a precise adherence to truth, since the experience itself was a verbal one.

Form is never more than a revelation of content.

“The law—one perception must immediately and directly lead to a further perception” (Edward Dahlberg, as quoted by Charles Olson in “Projective Verse,” Selected Writings). I’ve always taken this to mean, “no loading of the rifts with ore,” because there are to be no rifts. Yet alongside this truth is another truth (that I’ve learned from Duncan more than from anyone else)—that there must be a place in the poem for rifts too—(never to be stuffed with imported ore). Great gaps between perception and perception which must be leapt across if they are to be crossed at all.

The X-factor, the magic, is when we come to those rifts and make those leaps. A religious devotion to the truth, to the splendor of the authentic, involves the writer in a process rewarding in itself; but when that devotion brings us to undreamed abysses and we find ourselves sailing slowly over them and landing on the other side—that’s ecstasy.

#denise levertov #poetry #form #literature #theory

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tefltraininginstitute · 4 years

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Understanding Connected Speech (with Mark Hancock)

You taught the vocab, you practiced the grammar, drilled the pronunciation, checked the concepts, played the listening and… the students understood next to nothing. But why?! We ask Mark Hancock (author of Pronunciation Games, English Pronunciation in Use and Pron Pack) what makes authentic English listening so difficult for students and what teachers can do to help learners understand connected speech

Understanding Connected Speech - Transcript

Ross Thorburn: Hi, Mark. Thanks for joining us. To start off with, what is connected speech? What makes it difficult for students? Is there ever a time when we speak English where we're not using connected speech?

Mark Hancock: Well, if you imagine an old fashioned robot saying, "Salt and pepper, salt and pepper, I want the salt and pepper." That's English with no connected speech about it. Each word is separate, as if it were the dictionary version of the word.

Salt and pepper, actually used that as an example. Salt and pepper, we've got the t of salt appears to join the and, salt and pepper, t and pepper, t and pepper, salt and pepper. That's called linking. You've got the a of the and is reduced to a weak vowel. Salt and pepper. So that's called a weak form.

Then you've got the d of and disappears, that's called illusion. Instead of and you've got n. Then finally, the n of and changes into something like a m. Because if the p in pepper involves the lips being closed together. In preparation for that when the mouth is saying n, it tends to want to say m, so that it's ready for the pepper that comes later.

That's called assimilation. Those are all examples of connected speech. As you can probably tell that they are features for the benefit of the mouth, like the n changing to m is not so that I'm going to be more intelligible to you, so it's easier for me to say it. These features of connected speech are about streamlining the articulation.

Ross: Obviously, there's lots of things there that are really hard for students in terms of listening to connected speech. I think often when we do listening activities in class, the way we run them, maybe doesn't actually help students very much, right?

Mark Hancock: Yeah. It's interesting that in teaching listening, teachers often assume that the problem is going to be with difficult vocabulary or difficult grammar, and they pre‑teach the new vocabulary in the listening. Then they focus on listening comprehension questions.

If the students get them wrong, just play their audio again and say, "No, no, no, listen again. Do you hear it now?" If a student goes, "No, I don't hear it still." It's nothing to be done about it. What the teacher is missing here is that the problem wasn't with the long words.

The problem was with the short words or the common words that the student is not familiar with, in the connected speech form. For example, in connected speech, there are five words which may be reduced to homophones, like the word a, the. I can't say it right now, but there's a lot of different words end up sounding exactly the same.

If this student is expecting them to sound the way that they sound in the dictionary or said separately, then they're not going to be ready for that, what they're not ready for is the way that the words blend together.

What we can do I think is, devote some class time to focusing specifically on the way that words blend together in connected speech for the purpose of making the students better equipped as listeners.

Ross: As part of the problem there, Mark, that when we teach new words or phrases, we tend to drill them in a way that sounds a bit more like Robby the robot saying salt and pepper, rather than saying salt‑and pepper.

Mark Hancock: I think your student is probably going to store it in their memory in something like a dictionary citation form. You're saying that that might be a problem because when they hear it in the flow of speech, it might not have that form.

I think you could probably do it in two stages. In the first stage, they would learn it as a separate form in the case of a word like salt. Then in separate stage, learn how it sounds in a joined up way, think it might be a bit much to do it all at once. However, with other words, which are typically reduced, like, and.

I probably wouldn't teach the word and in a citation form because it's never cited on its own. It's always in the flow of speech. It depends on the word really. Another example for a longer word would be actually. Actually is rarely, if ever, pronounced the way I just did it then.

It's something like a discourse marker and it can be heavily reduced to things like act‑ly, or in the flow of speech. That was actually very easy. It's actually quite a good idea.

Some words are more reduced than others, and actually is one of them because it's not used in its literal meaning necessarily. It's used something more like a discourse marker. You would need to make students aware of the way that words like that tend to be severely reduced.

Ross: I guess also it's difficult for teachers to know how these words are actually pronounced in connected speech because dictionaries don't actually have this information in them. There's also no pronunciation equivalent of a corpus to see how language is actually pronounced in real speech.

Mark Hancock: It's difficult to find out. In fact, it's not really been dealt with systematically before, until now we have the work of Richard Caldwell. He has started to work trying to systematically focus on the way in which words are eroded in connected speech. They're much more eroded than following the rules that I just mentioned before about linking, weak forms, assimilation, illusion.

Those are relatively minor compared to some of the forms of the words that are reduced in natural, fast speech. He has started to work on systematizing our understanding of the ways that these words are reduced. Yeah, you're right. This material is not easily available. In fact, it hasn't been seen as a need, anything that was needed before.

People haven't really been aware of it. I guess the people who speak the language aren't really aware of it because we don't hear objectively. We hear what we expect to here. When people hear something like, act‑ly, the mind fills in the gap, so it sounds like they're hearing actually. They're not aware that it could be problematic for the non‑native listener.

It is problematic for the non‑native listener of course, because what the evidence they're getting through their ears is much reduced. They probably think it's their own fault for not having good hearing, whereas in fact, it's the speaker who is reducing it that way.

Ross: What can teachers do then, Mark, to help raise students' awareness of connected speech, so that they can understand more when they're listening to authentic audio?

Mark Hancock: Although the purpose of this is for listening as I've said, I do think the best way of raising awareness of these features for listening purposes, is through getting students to try to say them, to say articulate them that way themselves.

I use various kinds of drilling, coral drilling or individual drilling to get the students saying these pieces of connected speech, so that they become hyper aware of the way that they sound, because there's nothing more awareness‑raising than attempting to do it yourself. You could take a short phrase like salt and pepper again, salt and pepper, salt and pepper.

If you run repeat Multiple times that very short section or even shorter sections. Let's try it. I'll go, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper, tmpepper. I've taken a part of that phrase, not necessarily complete word.

I've taken the t out of salt and added it to the rest of the and pepper. I put it on a loop, repeating it. If you do that, put it on a loop. It makes it sound weird, because it stopped sounding like the meaning of it and starts just sounding like a piece of sound. It helps I think, the listener to perceive the way it sounds rather than the way they expect it to sound.

I use quite a lot, this kind of micro loop with multiple repetitions of a very short segment, getting students to try saying it that way themselves, and it's quite good fun. It really raises their awareness of connected speech as well. That's a technique, micro drilling.

Ross: You've obviously written a whole books on activities for students to practice pronunciation. What are some other activities that you like to do to help students become more aware of connected speech?

Mark Hancock: An activity that I use for drilling to focus the students' attention on features of connected speech, is something I call bricks and mortar. That's a metaphor. The bricks are the content words, and the mortar are the grammar or functional words that go between the bricks and tend to be crushed and misshapen.

In order to take the attention off the content words, I have just replaced the content words with numbers. I say the one, two, three, four with the different segments of connected speech you stuff in between and get the students to listen and then try to produce. For example, one or a two or a three or a four, one and a two and a three and a four, one and a two and a three and a four.

That's the easier level getting more difficult. Things like, one has been two has been three has been four, one must be two must be three must be four. One could be two could be three could be four.

Then students would have to notice things like the t in must, tends to be inaudible or elated, cut dropped, or the d in could, will sound like a b, coulb, could be one could be two. That kind of thing.

That's a very simple activity. Easy to invent your own version of it. Just have one, two, three, four and any segment between that you think might be tricky for the students listening. You can drill it and that way you saying the phrase and then repeating. That's a simple activity, to focus these students' attention, not on the content words, but on the function words that go between them.

Ross: Finally, Mark, when do you integrate pronunciation activities into a class? Like for you, where do you put them in a lesson plan or in your stages of a lesson?

Mark Hancock: That's interesting because I just finished a intensive month at the school here in Chester, where I live doing a full‑time summer program. We have to go through the course books. The course books tend to have very little space left over for our pronunciation, as you may have noticed.

What I found was really interesting, was to flip the presentation phase of the lesson. Let's say that your main point of the lesson was some grammar construction. Then afterwards, there'll be some example sentences pulled out and they might be listening repeat the pronunciation right at the end.

I have took them out at the beginning and wrote them on the board these example sentences before we even analyze the grammar or anything.

I did some of this pronunciation work, like doing these looped repetitions and this drilling work, focusing on the pronunciation of those three or four example sentences very thoroughly, and getting the students completely familiar with them before they studied the grammar.

Then when you kick into the lesson, there is already three dimensional pieces of language. They've already got a mental trace of how it sounds. When they come to study the grammar in it, as in the course book, they're already old friends. It seems so natural to do it that way around.

Yeah, flipping the presentation, instead of leaving the pronunciation to an afterthought, put it right at the beginning and bring the language alive. Make it three dimensional for the student before you go into the more cerebral grammar exploitation of the language.

#interview #Phonology

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talabib · 5 years

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How To Improve Your Memory

We’ve all been there: we see someone at a party or meeting, someone we’ve met at least two or three times before and even talked to for a few minutes. But the thing is, our memory betrays us, and we simply cannot remember her name.

Perhaps you devise some ingenious way to get it out of her without asking her directly. Or maybe you’ll run into a friend of yours and introduce him to this woman, hoping that she’ll then introduce herself by name!

Wouldn’t it be nice to finally put an end to forgetfulness?

If you want to improve your concentration, you’ve got to clear your mind and be in the now.

Everyone wants to have excellent memory, right? But considering how many people find it hard to concentrate on details, remembering them just seems out of the question.

There are ways to do it, though. Here are some top tips to improve your concentration.

First, rid yourself of conflict – that is, anything that leads your mind in different directions and stops you from concentrating. Do you spend time switching between checking your e-mail and sending several messages on your phone? Well, that would make you like just about everyone else.

But how do you get rid of internal conflict without doing something drastic like joining a monastery? A good starting point is to stop multitasking. According to neuroscience experts, multitasking actually slows you down by 50 percent and increases your chances of making a mistake by 50 percent.

For example, chatting on the phone while driving will lead you to hit the brakes 0.5 seconds slower than normal. If you do the math, at 112 kilometers per hour, your car would need an additional 15.5 meters to come to a complete stop – and a lot can happen in that space, at that speed.

Another smart move is to prevent your mind from wandering by giving yourself a purpose. That way, you can easily remind yourself why you wanted to concentrate on something in the first place.

In this case, the PIC rule might come in handy: (P)urpose gives you a reason for learning. Take learning a programming language, for example. Your purpose there could be building a website for your family.

Once you’ve found a purpose, ask yourself questions so you become (i)nterested and (c)urious about what you’ve chosen to learn. “Is this currently relevant to my life?” or “Can I use this at work?” are great ones to start with.

So, now that you know how to improve your concentration, it’s time to discover how to retain information, too.

Use your creativity to bring information to life in a fun way that will help you remember it.

Have you ever read a page of a book and then immediately forgot what you just read? Well, that never has to happen again.

An easy way to remember a bit of information is to bring it to life, and this is all about using your creativity to make a memorable movie or picture.

When it comes to words, there’s a lot to play around with. They can often be broken down into smaller words which sound similar to others – that way, you can make them more memorable by making them sound funny or absurd. This is great when it comes to memorizing foreign words or capital cities.

Say you’re trying to learn “pollo,” the Spanish word for chicken. Picture yourself playing polo while riding on a massive chicken and you’ll never forget it again! Or, let’s take the capital of Australia, Canberra. If you’re trying to remember it, visualize a KANgaroo eating some BERRies to help jog your memory. It takes some practice to think in this way, but it makes the process of remembering things much easier.

To make the pictures you’ve imagined super exciting, and therefore more memorable, just use the SEE method.

Information always enters our brains via our (s)enses. So, for example, when you’re trying to remember the word “horse,” it’s important to imagine its skin, smell, touch and even its taste. That way, you’ve created a multisensory image that’s far easier to recall than five letters.

Up next is (e)xaggeration. Compared to an ordinary horse, you’re more likely to remember a giant bright pink horse wearing a tux, right? Forget logic, it’s all about making funny, fantastical images.

And lastly, (e)nergize. A horse galloping at full speed into the sunset is far more entertaining than one standing still in a stable. Adding a bit of action will make the information you’re trying to retain a lot more vivid.

The key to remembering information, then, is to use your imagination to bring it to life.

Sort information into categories that already exist in your long-term memory.

Now that you’ve discovered how to create memorable images, it’s important to learn how to organize them in your mind. The best way to do this is to use the loci method, also knows as the route method, which is the practice of combining new information with something already familiar.

Humans are experts at remembering specific routes or places (just think about your commute to work), so most memory systems already make use of loci. It works by putting the items to be remembered at specific locations along a route that is already vivid and familiar in our minds.

Here’s how you can put the loci method to work: Say you’re trying to memorize bits of a speech you have to give. You would imagine walking around your house along a particular route. The idea here is to create a string of locations to visit as you go.

So, in each room you imaginarily venture to, pick three specific locations in the room, and put them in a specific order. In this way, as you go around your house, you combine each part of the speech with the locations you’ve picked.

Let’s say you start in the kitchen and the first loci is your favorite pink breakfast bowl. You’d think of the horse in a pink tuxedo from the SEE method and remember that the word “horse” is in the first paragraph of the speech. To make it even more memorable, you could imagine spinning the pink breakfast bowl on its head!

Next, let’s say the following paragraph in your speech includes the words “summer camp,” which you remember by imagining your family pictures on the refrigerator.

This method is effective because it’ll work with any structured location that you know well. Whether it’s your car, your body or a museum, you can use your route to recall your list. If your route is intentionally structured to hold, say, five objects per room, then you’ll remember both the list and its exact order.

And if you’re still not convinced, consider this: experts used this very method to remember the first 10,000 digits of the number π (pi)!

Use sounds to remember numbers and dates.

It’s always remarkable when a person can easily recall complex mathematical facts or historical dates at the drop of a hat. If you want to be able to do the same, here’s a simple way to remember numbers that only requires three steps.

The idea is to transform numbers into images that’ll stick in your mind.

First, you’ll need to learn a system that changes numbers into letters or alters how those letters sound. Take the number zero, which can be represented by the letters s, z and c. Tough to remember? Think about a hissing wheel. After all, zero looks like a wheel anyway!

Each number from zero to nine can be assigned a group of similar sounding consonants. For instance, the number six can be represented by the sounds j, sh/ch or a soft g. You can also use the shape of the numbers when you assign the sounds to make them easier to remember. For instance, if you flip the numbers two and three on the side they look like the letters N and M respectively and if you flip the number 9 horizontally or vertically, it looks like a p or a b. Vowels are left out for now, but come into use later.

The next step in remembering a date or number is to write down the letters that represent them and make up a word.

Say you want to remember the year 1969, when humans first walked on the moon. Most memorable dates happened in the last millennia, so you only need to remember the 969 bit. Therefore, the sounds b, sh and p should come to mind. Together, they can be used to make the word BiSHoP.

The last stage is to make a picture for you to remember. Using the SEE principle, take the word you’ve created and your chosen date or number. For the above, a bishop dancing on the moon with Neil Armstrong should do the trick!

Now that you know how this system can transform numbers into words, it should be simple to create memorable images that you can use to recall particular numbers or dates.

Use the four C system to remember names.

Is there anything more embarrassing than forgetting a colleague’s name? Well, when it comes to memorizing this kind of information, just remember the four Cs: concentrate, create, connect and continuous use. If you use this handy system, you’ll never have to deal with this awkward situation again.

First and foremost, you’ve got to concentrate on the person’s name if you want to remember and use it. Say the name out loud and then repeat it. If it’s a tricky one, just ask for the spelling.

To help the name stick, pick it apart and use any words that come to mind to create a memorable image. Take, for example, the name Horsley. To remember this name, you might picture a fight between a HORSe and Bruce LEE.

Once you’ve sorted your image, connect it to the person’s face whose name you’re trying to remember. That way, seeing their face will immediately bring up their name.

A great way to match a face to a name is to use the connection method. If the person has a striking feature, connect that to the name you’re trying to remember. If your colleague Janice has icy blue eyes, imagine icicles flying out of them!

But what happens if you already know someone with that name? This is where the comparison method comes in. The key to this technique is to compare the new face to the one you know. Take two people with the name John. You could imagine both of their heads on one body, chatting to each other about how they look that day.

Whichever method you use, make sure you revisit the names you’ve learned so that you use them continuously. It would also be handy to list the names in your diary or add the people whose names you’re trying to remember on your favorite social media channel.

Stop yourself from forgetting information by reviewing it.

Do you remember much of what you learned at school? According to research, within two years of finishing school, people can only remember the equivalent of about three weeks’ worth of lessons from 12 years of daily classes.

It’s no surprise, then, that without training your memory you’ll forget most of what you’ve learned.

To put it simply, all this brain training is pointless without a review process to make it stick. But what’s the most effective way to do this?

Each time you revisit what you’ve memorized, the information you’ve absorbed has more of an impact in your mind than it did before. Therefore, to really make sure your brain never forgets what you’ve learned, you should gradually leave more time between one review and the next.

After learning something new, you should go over it after one day, then three days, then seven days later and so on. You should return to it two final times after you’ve had a two-month break and again following a subsequent three-month break.

Another point to remember is that when you’re going through the process of reviewing, take advantage of the memory techniques you’ve learned. The SEE principle should have provided you with clear, vivid images to bring your information to life. Has the bishop still got moves on the moon? Make sure to use the tools you’ve got, otherwise you’ll lose what you’re trying to retain.

It’s always a good idea to stay focused on your main goal, too. If you’re learning a foreign language, booking a trip to that country could be the motivation you need to study extra hard.

When it comes to memorizing what you’ve already learned, the key is reviewing what you’ve done to prevent yourself from losing your newfound knowledge.

#improve you memory

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bieups · 5 years

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KIIP level 4 (round 2)

Alright, so those of you who were around last summer might remember that I signed up for the “Korean Immigration & Integration Program” language class last year (it’s the free one supported by the government).

So to recap, I started level 4 with evening classes 3 days a week, but then due to my work schedule I wasn’t going to be able to get all the hours I needed to pass. I ended up only doing like 4 classes before dropping it. My classmates at the time were all older than me, half of them being like 50-60 years old, and it was everyone’s first time in the program. Our teacher was super chill and engaged in conversations about non-textbook stuff (mostly because the 60 year old Chinese-Korean students were practically fluent and talked all the time about everything) but she also did a great job explaining the grammar patterns and giving us tips for the future final and whatnot. Overall the class felt more like a structured study session than a class and I would’ve really enjoyed it if I wasn’t half-dead from work.

Moving on to now. I signed up again for level 4. I could’ve gone to level 5 thanks to my topik score, but there are actually some grammar patterns I don’t know that well in this level, plus it’s free! I have a lot of time this semester so I figured why not. Welllll turns out the why not is because this level 4 is more like a Sogang level 3 and I actually don’t enjoy reviewing if I’m not also learning something new...

(This is gonna be kinda long because I haven’t really organized my thoughts, so I’m putting it behind a cut...)

Okay, so basically, I think this class is a better example of this program, compared to my last experience. And now I am kind of less enthusiastic about recommending it to people who are looking to learn Korean. Obviously, if you want the visa points/citizenship, there’s no question — do the program. But for actually learning....university programs or hagwons or even a dedicated study group would probably be a way more effective use of your time.

The one thing this program has over other programs is that it’s free. (Although they now charge like 30k won for the test? Also the textbook is 7k won and pretty good for a class but horrible for self-study)

Alright, so what changed my mind?? Well for starters, my class this term has 0 time for conversation. We never even introduced ourselves. Our teacher is alright, like she explains things decently (but is the type to spend more time giving examples than explaining the situation around when you’d use the grammar...so her style doesn’t match me). I also appreciate how she gives us a list of all the vocabulary from the chapter with a space to write the definition next to it. It’s really helpful for studying cause now I don’t have to reread the chapters. Also we start the class with a short little review quiz over the previous chapter.

BUT. My classmates are not as high of a level as my previous classmates were. I don’t know why that is... My last class, all of us tested into level 4. This class has like 18 people (which is part of the reason there’s no time for chatting) and maybe 8 tested into this level while the rest moved up from level 3. The ages seem to average around 30s, there’s one guy, and most people are married. Also there are a few westerners, so I’m not the only one haha Only 2 people said they’ve never formally studied Korean before. But literally every hour our teacher has to explain some basic grammatical principle.

For example, if you have ever seen a Korean textbook, or studied Korean grammar, you have probably seen stuff like this:

N과/와 N(이)라고 하다 A/V ~아/어요 A/V지 않아요

What does it mean?? Our teacher spent 15min reviewing N = 명사, A = 형용사, V = 동사 and what those words mean, and the dictionary form of verbs/adj (~다) versus present tense, past tense, future tense (~아/어요, ~았/었어요, ~을 거예요) and reminding students not to say stuff like “어제 숙제 해요.”

I can understand level 1 students not knowing what a 동사 is, but we are level 4. Everyone except the 2 newbies said they have studied Korean before. How did they learn without seeing grammar patterns written out?

We also had to review conjugation when it comes to words like 되다. 되다 + 어요 = 되어요 which is often shortened to 돼요 But if you want to use a different ending, let’s say ~고 되다 + 고 = 되고 not 돼고 because we didn’t add a vowel And finally, our teacher spent a long time explaining how to do workbook exercises. For example, there’s a word bank and you complete each sentence by choosing the right word from the word bank and adding the grammar to it, or there’s one line of a conversation and you have to write the next one (from your own mind, no word bank) using whatever grammar we’re studying, or you need to draw a line between the word on one side and the correct definition on the other side. Many students were very confused and were just writing the words on the blanks in the order from the word bank, or were not using the written form when the teacher said to do so (so then we reviewed the difference between speaking forms and written forms), or weren’t writing complete sentences, or just drew lines from the word to the definition straight across without checking if they matched, etc.

Now, I don’t really care that people struggle with these things because it could be their first time learning like this. I was a beginnger once, too! Making mistakes is a natural part of learning~

My frustration is that all of these people either A. took the level 3 class and, I assume, looked at a textbook very similar to the one we’re using now or B. took the level test, which is a very standard multiple choice test + interview, and knew enough to get into level 4. But our class feels very slow because every time the teacher gives instructions and then asks for questions, no one says anything. Then multiple people do it wrong (because they didn’t understand the instructions) or the teacher calls on someone to do some speaking exercise and they just give a blank stare or start saying some random things (because they didn’t understand the instructions).

Maybe the level test needs less multiple choice questions and more writing questions (topik manages to have 2 essays, after all! They could have one “make a conversation” or something simple)? Our teacher always asks if there are any questions and no one says anything, then she goes “some of you look confused...” but doesn’t know what to further explain if people don’t tell her what part they don’t get!

So actually, our class does have time for chatting, it’s just that instead of talking about our experiences or comparing Korea to our countries (like in my last class) we have to use that time to listen to lectures on basic conjugation or why spacing is important or what endings are for writing vs. speaking...

I will say that many people in the class do seem to be at an equal level to each other. Like when these grammar questions have come up, it’s pretty much never been just one person who’s confused. Like half the class thought “돼지 않아” was correct, then after being told why they were wrong, at least 3 thought “돼고” was correct.

I don’t want to sound like ~I’m sooo far above all these peasants~ because I know that there are things I can work on, too... but I don’t think I’m really going to get to work on them in this class. Plus...I got a topik 5...I am a higher level than this class hahaha

The other thing is the content. Like do I really need to know the whole timeline of a Korean wedding? Why does every single Korean textbook have a chapter on weddings? Not everyone learning Korean is going to marry a Korean... There’s also lots of cultural info that feels more like propaganda, which is dumb cause everyone in this class is a foreigner living in Korea... we know that people don’t always give up their seats for the elderly on the subway, or other “social rules” that aren’t actually followed in reality. It’s also totally designed for foreign wives, so some of the chapters might be irrelevant for people who aren’t married to a 회사원 or don’t plan on having kids.

Okay well that’s all for my rant. I do plan to finish this and level 5 (even though I’m probs just gonna get the marriage visa in a couple years instead of the points visa hahahaha) so I’m keeping my mind open for learning~

I plan to do a post specifically on the textbook because I do actually like a lot of things about it and then people can see some more details of what you’re actually supposed to learn in KIIP level 4.

If you’ve got specific questions, feel free to ask me! If you’re also doing KIIP in Seoul (or not) and want a study friend, hit me up! And if you want to learn to swing dance & practice Korean at the same time, my club’s starting a new round of classes this week! ㅎㅎㅎ

#langblr #korean #kiiip #language learning #thanks for being great sogang #and thanks to the gov for this class even tho i hate it

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