#obviously it's the cheapest stuff on the planet so like it's not like it was outrageously delicious. it was just addictive. it was my Crack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has a 66 index score for customer satisfaction in the US.

#obviously it's the cheapest stuff on the planet so like it's not like it was outrageously delicious. it was just addictive. it was my Crack

sheocheese · 1 day

Text

I like my work and even my workplace but there is one thing that makes me so furious it's driving me a little insane. So my boss and founder of the company once came up with this quote and he must've felt like a real intellectual when he did because it's plastered in giant letters on the wall I pass every day on my way to the locker rooms. It reads (translated): "Bread is the cheapest luxury item that everyone can afford." I have some issues with that quote. Enough that I spend my paid worktime thinking about it when I gotta do especially boring stuff. 1: Obviously not everyone can afford bread like I know you're the first result on an image search of "Rich old white dude" but come on even you have to know that 2: How dare you try to paint BREAD (like normal ass basic bread, no fancy stuff just flour water and yeast) as a luxury item. It's like. The most basic food there is. If here is ONE food that every human on the planet should have free and unlimited access to it's BREAD. I know I live in germany and we have a... Special thing with bread (we have bread-sommeliers I kid you not) but even "Good german bread" that is "so much better than any other bread anywhere on the world" should be at the very least affordable to everyone. 3: By incorporating the idea that the fulfillment of basic human needs is a luxury into your business philosophy you are part of the reason why there are people who can not afford bread. Because in doing so you have to set a standard for, again, a basic neccessity that inevitably drives up the selling price for your product to the point it's getting ridiculous but also allowing the producers af "non-luxury" bread with low to no standards in ingredient/production quality to sell at higher prices because why should they sell 300% below your "luxury product", when they can sell 50% below and still be the cheapest option on the market? 4: I can barely afford rent and I know this is treated as "normal" for someone in their first year of training and all but I still hate that this quote is in the hallway to my workplace where I have to see it every day especially towards the end of the month when I have to think twice if I can afford to have anything other than bread for dinner.

#sheo talks #maybe I have thought about this stupid quote too much #Maybe I am sick of capitalism ruining everything #maybe its both who knows #but maybe the ugly ass green of that wall and the light grey of the letters that's a tad too dark to appear white in contrast #just make me really really angry #anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk

3 notes · View notes

forestgreenlesbian · 2 years

Text

watched this video about how home sewing is becoming fast fashion which i didn’t agree with fully because i don’t think making things yourself at home can ever be equated with a huge industry that is demonstrably terrible for the planet and for its workers however.. she had some interesting points and i think it solidified why i haate watching any kind of sewing and textile quote unquote youtubers. it probably links into the whole “monetise your interests” instinct but it is wild watching people like “i make my entire summer wardrobe in 3 days!” “sewing a shirt in 2 hours!” like are you not having fun??? do you not want to actually enjoy making the garment isn’t that kind of the point of sewing as a hobby not as a job??? i guess if you’re uploading content to youtube it might be your job lol but still. and on top of that yeah it’s a step up from buying fast fashion but if you’re making a whole new wardrobe every season like where are the clothes going... bodies change and stuff stops fitting and if you’re invested in trends things go out of style (especially if as a creator you’re trying to make “relevant” fashion content that people will watch) like i don’t believe you’re keeping every item for a long time which means they’re getting donated or more likely going to landfill because there are issues with donating home-made things (no safety standards/labels/care instructions/quality control etc.). part of the joy of learning to sew is learning how to mend and make long lasting clothes so that you can wear things for years! rather than remaking your whole wardrobe every year.. PLUS people will just buy fabric from wherever is cheapest with no consideration for how it’s made or if the workers growing the fibres or weaving in factories are being paid fairly. like doing the actual sewing yourself of course removes one big step but it doesn’t mean there aren’t other people being exploited somewhere in the overall process

not to sound overly preachy lol like obviously we are all just doing our best to try and make conscious purchases but there’s just something about seeing youtubers like “i recreated this designer dress for $10!” like. ok. how much did the worker who made those 5m+ of material get paid then..............

106 notes · View notes

readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

A Universe To You

; Soulmate!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Warnings: Mentions of an accident and injury resulting from it, discussions of poverty, minor breakdown, oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex

; Word Count: 41k

; Synopsis: Life for you has always been dull and grey; not only because you grew up on the most over-populated and polluted planet in the galaxy but because you’re colourblind. You’re convinced it’s because you have a soulmate out there, but soulmates are a forgotten concept now that humanity has spread across the stars. What happens then, when you finally escape Earth and discover colour with the touch of a man on a planet in which soulmates are just a tale of myth?

; A/N: Hi, yes. I’m sorry this is so long lol I half proof-read it but...it’s just so long and I’m so done with it haha. Sorry if it’s bad ;-; please reblog it (if you’re on desktop, it’ll kill your phone) and please leave me comments, asks or reviews! I’m convinced this isn’t actually all that great, my first soulmate attempt :/

The familiar roar of a star engine rattles through the ramshackle apartment you’d grown up in, the noise outrageously loud and yet no one in the cramped space pays any notice. It’s the price of living next to the Busan Spaceport unfortunately. The rent is astonishingly cheap, relative to how much anything costs in the 32nd century, but that’s only because it came with the downside of pollution.

All kinds of pollution. Noise pollution from the roars of starships and starfreighters as they fired up their engines, their fusion cores pushing them high into the sky and past the atmosphere limit where they would then jump into hyperspace, heading for whatever planet was next on their list.

Light pollution, from the blinding neon of the signage that littered the area surrounding the dirty port. Signs that screamed everything under the sun was for sale here in Busan, which it was. From entertainment screens to the latest in clothing to prostitutes and cosmetic surgery, everything was for sale here on Earth.

Most of it was supposed to be regulated, and a large portion of it was supposed to be illegal. But Earth had stopped caring about laws a long time ago. Probably five centuries at least. A few billion people ago. Maybe back when you could actually see the sky without it being consumed with the constant smog of pollution from the factories that belched smoke and other contaminants into the air.

Ironically enough, the star engines that were in the various ships, liners, freighters and more were actually incredibly environmentally friendly. They made a lot of noise, but they were relatively clean compared to what Earth produced.

That was probably because other planet’s actually gave a fuck about their environments. You’d heard that there were whole planets out there that had developed entirely clean technology. Neutral carbon, nothing toxic or deadly going into their atmospheres, nothing choking their plant life or killing off their living species.

It was hard for you to imagine really. You’d grown up here in Busan, the second largest city in Old Korea. Centuries upon centuries ago, Busan had been a hub of freight for the old world and it’s old technologies. Actual ships that had travelled upon the oceans had arrived and departed from the now gone port.

That old method of transport had taken weeks to get anything anywhere, or so the e-book’s said. You could believe it, even though you’d never even heard of anyone going on a boat or a marine ship. People didn’t do that anymore. Not since the oceans had turned toxic from the pollution centuries ago.

Any fish or seafood that was for sale on Earth was either processed, by which it meant that it didn’t contain any actual seafood and instead was just made up of various fake food that had been manufactured to taste vaguely like what it was intended to be, or was shipped in from off-planet.

Only the rich could afford to eat seafood anymore. Those who lived near inland lakes that hadn’t been overfished in the years after the seas died could also afford to eat fish. It was a luxury now, more rare than diamonds had been in the 21st century.

The idea of a small gemstone being worth a lot of money was laughable now. They’d discovered a whole asteroid made of diamond four centuries ago and had been mining it ever since. Diamonds were as rare as mice in today’s world. Fish on the other hand? Now that was rare.

Despite the overpopulation of Earth and the environmental devastation that had occured, people still sought what little comforts they could. Which meant that even the poorest tried to stay away from living around the spaceports of each city. It meant the apartments were cheap, but you’d grown up listening to the scream of engines and experiencing the building shake subtly every time one took off or landed.

In a bizarre way, it was almost helpful. You could sleep through anything now. But on the downside, it was a visible sign of the poverty your family lived in. One of the few ways to earn near enough guaranteed money was to be able to get onto one of the United Nations of Earth benefits programmes. It was almost a badge of honour for some people, as it meant a near enough constant steady stream of income that could be used to pay rent, buy food or simply live.

Some people abused it, just like people had abused governmental benefits throughout the history of Earth. But most people desperately needed it.

Earth had lots of people. It did not have lots of jobs to match.

The only real job available on Earth now were factory jobs, building the items and products that the rest of the civilised galaxy bought for cheap. Someone in the early years of the 2nd millennium might have thought that Earth would be given some grand status amongst planets in whatever future space exploration they did.

It was the birthplace of humanity after all.

They would be wrong.

Your home planet was where products and items were built cheaply, relying on the overwhelming number of factories and warehouses that grew like weeds amongst the cities and taking advantage of the over abundant population. With a population of twenty billion people living in squalid cities and towns that were millennia old, creaking with age and underfunded to cope with all those who lived in them, there were plenty of people desperate for a job.

Which meant you didn’t need to pay much to get something. Most factories underpaid their workers because they always knew they could get more. There were no such things as trade unions anymore. People needed work too much to care about things like workers rights. Anyone who got too vocal simply lost their job.

Your parents had been able to gain governmental benefits because of your dad. He’d been a part of the United Nations Navy, which meant the navy in space, obviously. His career had been cut short when his battle cruiser had been destroyed in an attack from terrorists fifteen years ago, ending up back at home while he recovered from losing his legs.

As a result, he’d retired from the navy and been given a military pension, which was incredibly hard to get, along with disability benefits due to him being injured so badly in service to the government. It made him a rarity, and should have meant that in conjunction with your mom’s three jobs as a cleaner that your family would be able to live somewhere a little nicer.

Nicer being a relative time on Earth of course.

But they’d chosen the worst place because it was the cheapest, because of you. Because they’d been informed by your daycare centre that you were showing surprising promise in education. To the degree that they suggested possibly trying to get you sent to a private school that offered a better education than the public schools.

So they had. And they’d succeeded. All the money they saved from skimping on food and rent went to paying your education fees, buying your uniform and school supplies. You took the skybus to class every day and came home the same way, trying to limit your burden on your family.

Scholarships and bursaries were hard earned by you throughout school and you studied hard to make sure that your parents sacrifices weren’t in vain. They had dreams for you, hopes. Hopes that other people on this shithole of a planet had long given up. They wanted you to escape here, to escape the constant spiral of poverty, overpopulation, pollution and more.

To live a life without worrying every day.

Not that poverty and stuff wasn’t an issue on other planets too, but it was far less of an issue than here. The poorest planet in the galaxy was still richer than the citizens of Earth. Whether in terms of real money or just overall living conditions.

You wanted that for yourself too. So desperately. So badly. You wanted to look up at the sky on a night and have the bright lights be twinkling stars that had probably died millions of years ago instead of simply just being the lights of star engines as they powered away. To look at an ocean that wasn’t filled with sludge and pollution and more.

Resting your head against the double paned window, you sighed softly and watched yet another starfreighter rumble it’s way out of the port. It was big, astonishingly big, and extremely hulky. Despite that, it was still sleek and refined, allowing it to cut through the air and atmosphere with ease as it groaned its way further into the sky.

You knew that calling it a starfreighter was wrong in reality. The actual starfreighter’s never came down to the planet itself. They couldn’t; they were too big. What left the depot here planetside was basically a mini freighter, trekking containers and more up to the giant ships that were in orbit until it was full. Those ships physically couldn’t try to land on a planet, they were too big and unwieldy and would burn up in the atmosphere.

It was the same with large war ships and such. You couldn’t even imagine the size of what was out in space, not when what went up there was big enough to big a tower block like yours shudder and shake.

You wanted to though. Oh, the ache to see the galaxy and more than what life had handed you was so strong. Maybe it was your parents fault for instilling in you the desire and need to achieve more than what the society you’d grown up in expected from you.

“Have you heard yet?” The gentle sound of your mom’s voice distracts you from your thoughts, causing you to look over at her with a slight smile. She looks tired, and you realise with a pang that she looks old. You knew that other planets had managed to achieve astonishing life averages, with life extending sciences causing the average age of a woman in the galaxy to now be 123.

On Earth it was 64.

It made you want to cry sometimes when you looked at your parents, at how exhausted they seemed. How at 50 they were already approaching what was viewed as the twilight years here. It wasn’t fair. They worked so hard, working themselves to the bone for you and you knew that even if everything went well, they still probably wouldn’t see their 70th birthday.

Her cleaning uniform was stained and dirty as usual but you could see the hope in her eyes. Shaking your head, you reached out and pulled her into a tight hug before sighing softly.

“Not yet mom. But it’s supposed to be today. I’m just...thinking I guess.” Pausing, you shift until you’re resting back against the aged synthetic fibre couch that had come with the shoddy apartment. Water stains do the ceiling while the beige carpet has been worn threadbare over the decades. A slight odour of garbage emanated from the attached kitchen, probably coming up from the sink or something.

These buildings were old and no one cared enough to fix them properly. The one plus side of it was that a broken elevator meant that you’d always maintained a certain level of fitness by having to climb fifteen flights of stairs. A downside was that it relegated your dad to work that could only be done from home.

“What if I didn’t get in? Or if I did but they want me to pay tuition and stuff? Will the government cover that for me? I don’t know.” Playing with the loose thread of your pants, you bite your lip in desperation as uncertainty washes over you.

You’re waiting for the notification to inform you of whether or not you passed the university entrance exams. They were a galaxy wide set of exams, the exact same that every planet had to take at what was considered to be relatively the same time. It was standardised to ensure that universities from all planets could assess candidates equally.

The only difference was that the exams were each translated into the relevant language of wherever the student lived.

But it didn’t really matter if you passed the exams or not. Each student was instructed to apply for ten universities from the list of all available universities in the galaxy. It was an astonishingly large list that was ranked in various ways; from best value to the best teaching to the best student life and so forth.

Unsurprisingly, Earth universities ranked lowest in every score. They were the universities that only other Earthen students attended, pumping out people with just enough education to become managers in factories or whatever small businesses managed to prosper here. Most of the time though, they produced teachers and medical staff.

You knew many people in your class had signed up to the military. The UN military paid for four years of tuition at the best military university on Earth, which was actually the only university ranked anywhere good. All it required in return was thirty years of service, minimum.

Your dad had refused point blank to let you do that, calling it a con. They allowed people to attend university and attain degrees, but they then stagnated in the military for decades on end. And the UN had a terrible habit of extending out service beyond the mandated years until people found that they were retiring. The only real benefit, he often said sarcastically, is that military staff were one of the few people on Earth who actually lived longer than everyone else.

Choosing universities has been stressful for you. You desperately wanted to teach, to educate and enrich the minds of a younger generation and give them the hope that your own parents had instilled in you. Your high levels of intellect had meant that you had been the top of your class every time in all levels of school and you’d studied your ass off after hours to gain extra qualifications and grades.

The standard education system taught maths, physics, biology, chemistry, history, Standard Language, physical education and literature. Literature and history were the only subjects that deviated in terms of topics and those exams were specific to the planets. Most also had an extra subject in whatever language was native to their planet with Standard being taught simply because it was the galaxy wide language that everyone spoke to communicate.

You’d gone further though, desperate to make yourself stand out to universities. No matter how good your grades were on the tests, universities were still allowed to pick and choose who they wanted to attend. Those from better off planets often got the places and those whose parents could afford to encourage universities to look twice found themselves prospering too.

As a student from Earth, the odds were stacked unbelievably against you. The education system just wasn’t as good here, the students couldn’t afford to even leave the planet, never mind pay the fees that an off planet university would require and there was the awful stigma that Earth maintained.

Most students who managed to get a place in university off world had a ridiculously large set of subsidies, scholarships, bursaries and grants that paid for their further education. None of them ever came back to Earth.

You’d studied harder and more. Your grades included not only the basics, but Korean Language, English Language, Spanish Language, advanced maths, astrogeology and astrobiology. They probably wouldn’t be useful for an education degree, but you’d loved them and you’d wanted to stand out from the rest.

Now you were just waiting...hoping desperately that one of the ten universities you’d picked would want you.

“You’ll be fine sweetheart. I’ve raised you for eighteen years now and I know the girl that you’ve always been. Strong, stubborn and determined,” She smiled softly, running her well worn fingers over your cheek. “You’re going to go out there, to the stars and beyond. You’re going to live the life we’ve dreamt for you, the life that your ancestors would have never thought possible. You’re going to be something.”

Eyes tearing up, you take in the deep sincerity and belief that she holds in her voice and face. She believes that you’ll do it, that you’ll make it despite everything that’s stacked against you. It makes you sit a little straighter, shoulders pushing back as you acknowledge what your parents have sacrificed and how far they’ve gotten you.

You have to believe that it was all worth it.

“I can save and move you both out to wherever I go.” You tease lightly, trying to cheer up the mood before poking lightly at her side. She gives a soft laugh and hugs you back, embrace a little tighter and longer than you’d expected.

“I’d like that. And maybe you’ll finally get to see the beauty that the galaxy holds. Maybe you’ll finally see colour.” Her words are gentle and soft, her touch equally as light but you can see the hope once more in her eyes. If there’s one thing that’s always made your mom believe that you were destined for more...it was the fact that you were colourblind.

Most people who knew this about you just thought it was some weird genetic quirk. It was well known that men were mostly colourblind, but not usually to the extent that you were. Your entire world was monochromatic...greyscale at the very best. Part of you didn’t mind, because it meant that you didn’t notice just how bad the polluted landscape of Earth was.

But part of you knew that you were missing out on so much.

Your mom believed it was a sign when you were younger, alongside your intellect. A sign that you were going to leave Earth. She was a little superstitious, but this was one aspect that you were willing to go along with her.

Because your mom still believed in the theory of soulmates.

According to the history books, soulmates had been a regular occurrence in pre-spaceflight days. Two people whom fate had determined would be the perfect companions. It had been almost a badge of honour back then, centuries upon centuries ago. People had been desperate to find the one person who would love and accept them as they are with no qualms, no worries and no stress.

The person who fits them best.

There had been so many ways of finding out who your soulmate was back then. From tattoos appearing simultaneously somewhere on the body at the age of eighteen to people born with tattoos, seeking out those who had the same. Or the people who gained a tattoo when they met their soulmate, the painful occurrence signifying that their world had just changed.

Some had the first words they would ever hear their soulmate speak written on them, while others didn’t see colour until their other half was near. Some required to be touched to see colour.

And those were just the most popular soulmarks as they had been called.

There were ancient stories of other, more rare methods. One in which a soulmate could draw on their wrist and it would appear on the other wrist as well along with so many others. They were all magical and defied belief, which is why they were decreed a sham by most modern day scientists.

No one could figure out how those remarkable events had occurred, and no one had experienced anything like those rare events in the last few centuries. People born with tattoos or who suddenly gained them thought they were strange, but most didn’t bother trying to find their soulmate because most didn’t even really know the stories anymore.

Finding your soulmate on Earth had been hard back then, finding your soulmate now that humanity had spread itself across the galaxy was nigh impossible. Most other planets had apparently forgotten all about soulmates, the tales simply one of the myths that were spoken about much in the same way that the ancient stories of old Earth gods and goddesses were.

Those born and raised on Earth were more likely to believe though. It was a part of your planet's culture and history, strong and proud. One of the few parts people were proud of. You’d even heard of people actually finding their soulmates, living happily even in the poor environment they lived in.

Your mom was convinced that your color blindness was a soulmark, and that your soulmate was waiting for you out there. She refused to acknowledge that they could be here, on Earth. No, to her it was a sign. A sign that you would venture far beyond and find happiness she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

And she believed so strongly, that you did too. You hoped desperately that you would be able to leave this planet and that one day, you would see the bright and vibrant colours that brought the galaxy to life. That you would meet someone who made your heart sing and your soul vibrate with joy.

Those in your class had laughed at you for the very notion of it, thinking you were being an idiot and setting yourself up for a fail. You just had a medical condition or something, that was all. But you believed in more, you had to believe in more. You couldn’t let your mom and dad down.

“I’d like that. I could tell you all the amazing colours that are out there. There’s even supposed to be colours that we don’t even here on Earth. Though I guess that doesn’t matter to me, does it?” Chuckling, you smile at her before shrugging lightly. She responded with her own smile, skin wrinkling at the corners with affection for you.

A sudden ping from your PED, personal electronic device, caused you both to jerk slightly in surprise. Glancing down at it, your eyes widened as your finger tapped the slim black tube. The familiar holographic screen of your PED came to life before you, glowing white in your vision.

Apparently it was supposed to be what was termed neon blue, but to you it was just like white. Much like any lighting did, no matter the colour. The various apps on your PED were closed at the moment, leaving just the background of the Pegasus cluster and the outlines of the few apps you considered important enough to keep on screen at all times.

One of them was your messaging app, which currently had a little ‘1’ in a tiny circle at the top right. You had one message, one new notification.

Looking over at your mom, your eyes widen as you lift up your PED so she can see better. Chewing on your lip, you press the app and watch as it opens up immediately. The list of messages from your parents, classmates and teachers filled up the screen and you quickly shifted from personal messages to mail.

Your inbox was full of scholarship and bursary applications to various governmental bodies along with newsletters to the random sites that you frequented often. But the newest message, the text bright and bold against the rest attracted your attention.

Clicking on it, you felt yourself go cold as you read it over slowly.

To: Y/N-Y/L/[email protected]

From: [email protected]

Title: University Entrance Examination Results

Y/N Y/LN,

Thank you for participating in the 3121 University Entrance Examinations at Excelsior Academy in Busan, Old Korea, Earth. We appreciate the time and effort that you took in not only studying but taking part in the examinations.

Please see your results from the Standard Education examinations below.

Mathematics: 97/100

Standard Language: 89/100

Physics: 91/100

Biology: 90/100

Chemistry: 91/100

History: 100/100

Physical Education: 85/100

Literature: 95/100

Any extra examinations that you have undertaken outside of the Standard Education will be listed below.

Korean Language: 98/100

English Language: 97/100

Spanish Language: 92/100

Advanced Mathematics: 94/100

Astrogeology: 91/100

Astrobiology: 85/100

We hope that these exam results meet the level you had expected. The universities that you applied to have been in receipt of these grades for the last seven days. Please see below to see which universities, if any, have accepted you onto your chosen course of: Education.

New Seoul University, New Korea

If you have been accepted by any universities, please note that they will be in communication with you separately in regards to your course.

Kind Regards,

Earth Education Board

You sit with wide eyes, neither your mom nor you quite comprehending what you’re reading as you flick back to the top and read again. Before you can even make it to the bottom once more though, another noise indicates you have another notification and you click out in a daze, accepting the second mail that has been sent to you.

To: Y/N-Y/L/[email protected]

From: [email protected]

Title: Welcome To New Seoul University!

Welcome Y/N Y/L/N!

We’re delighted to accept you into the below degree course here at New Seoul University for the 3121 intake of students:

Bachelor of Schooling Education

This is a four year course that will see you studying with some of the top professors across a range of subjects at one of the top ranked university institutions in the galaxy. We hope that you’re excited to start your new education here!

As a student of Earth, please note that you have been granted the below scholarships and grants in order to pay for your tuition, academic fees and accommodation fees. If you require any more help then please respond and we would be more than willing to help!

United Nations of Earth Travel Grant

As a citizen of Earth who has performed above average on the University Entrance Examinations, you have been approved for a grant that will cover the transport costs from Earth to New Korea.

United Nations of Earth Education Grant

As a citizen of Earth who has performed above average on the University Entrance Examinations, you have been approved for a grant that will provide you with money to pay for any academic items you may need alongside any extra academic fees.

New Seoul University Education Scholarship

Due to your high grades, you have been granted a scholarship from the Education department to cover any field trips or placements you will need to partake in as part of your degree.

New Seoul University Equality Scholarship

Due to the circumstances of your monetary background, you have been granted a scholarship that will cover the tuition fees for your degree. You have also been granted a scholarship that will pay for your accommodation here in New Seoul to allow you to study.

We hope that you look forward to studying here. We look forward to meeting you!

If you have any more questions, please let us know. We have provided relevant literature to your degree and the university to allow you to research where you will soon be living more! Included in this pack is an accommodation application, please fill this in along with the New Student form and send it back as soon as possible.

We will be in touch soon!

Kind Regards,

Kim Namjoon

Admissions

New Seoul University

“You did it! Oh my god, you did it! HONEY! OUR BABY GIRL GOT INTO UNIVERSITY!” Your mom starts screaming, tears falling down her face as she jumps around the dilapidated room in joy. Watching her with numb hands, you realise that you’re crying too when you feel the wet streaks down your chin.

Your father comes out of their bedroom, which also doubled as his makeshift office, and looks with confusion between your mom and you. Seeing the tears, he moves over to you, prosthetic legs creaking as he sits down and reads the messages that you hand to him.

Once done, he looks back up at you with eyes that glisten, emotion that you can’t even begin to understand welling deep within him. At seeing your dad’s overwhelming emotion, you finally let out a sob of joint happiness and shock, throwing your arms around his shoulders and crying into him as it all finally hits you.

You did it. You passed the entrance exams. You passed the entrance exams and got into university. A university off planet! One of the best universities in the galaxy at that! You were going to escape Earth, you were going to have a better life.

“I did it!” You whisper, pulling your mom into the hug as she kneels down in front of you both. It’s all you can say, all any of you can see as you celebrate this monumental achievement.

Less than 500 students out of the 5 million who take the university exams get into off world planets. Less than 100 get into prestigious universities.

You managed to be one of those lucky hundred, all thanks to your parents perseverance and belief. Hugging them even tighter, you press kisses to their faces as you all start to laugh while crying, the pure happiness infectious between you all.

You were going to make them proud. You were going to do everything they ever wanted for you and you vowed then and there, with your arms around them, that you would get them off this god forsaken planet.

It was unlikely that you could give them the life they deserve with what they had left, but you would at least let them live out their end years in peace and happiness somewhere better.

And maybe, just maybe...you might find a way to see colour along the way.

Looking out the window, you bite your lip as you watched another starship take off, heading for planets unknown thousands of lightyears away. That was going to be you soon, heading off a planet you’d only ever really heard about.

Maybe your soulmate was waiting for you there.

Either way...you couldn’t wait.

The first few days of being in New Seoul are overwhelming to say the least. You’d spent hours researching the campus and city extensively, scanning over the history and images that were available to you. Admittedly, they all just looked pretty similar given you could only see in grayscale but it looked nice.

The reality was something else entirely though. Towering skyscrapers reached towards the sky like the fingers of a hand in Busan, trying to scrape their way to freedom in space. That combined with the scent of garbage, sewage, the sludge from the ocean and the fumes of exhausts that didn’t quite comply with what should have been the environmental standard.

And all of that competed with the abundance of neon signage that screamed out at passersby, demanding attention from all corners. Busan was busy, overcrowded and dirty but it shouted what it had to offer as loudly as it could. Not that what it did offer was any good.

New Seoul was...similar and yet completely different. The skyscrapers here didn’t stretch as far as possible into the skies, in fact the capital city of New Korea apparently had a building limit of 50 stories. It boggled your mind when you looked around the streets, each one astonishingly wide and lined with an abundance of native trees.

Grass, real grass and not even that fake crap that had been trodden into the dirt over decades, blew ever so gently in the breeze and you had no doubt that it would be a rich and luscious green if you could see it. But nothing really compared to the magnificent sight above your head.

To you, the sky simply looked like a shade of grey. But it was a shade you had never seen on the vast expanse before, occasionally dotted with white clouds with darker grey embedded within them. You’d never seen the sky itself though. Busan kept a perpetual haze in the upper limits, a blanket of thick and suffocating pollution and smog that made the sky as grey for everyone else as it did for you.

Even though you couldn’t see the colours of the sky here, you knew that New Seoul was more beautiful than Busan could have ever hoped to be.

And there was more. The motor vehicles here were energy efficient, powered by solar via the panels that were embedded into the body, only a slight hum emanated purely to make sure that they could be heard by any pedestrians walking around. The streets were impossibly clean, hygiene robots patrolling regularly and cleaning along with hoovering up any rubbish that may be dropped.

It was also so...sparse in population compared to what you were used to. People here often lived on their own in a whole apartment. You had a room to yourself with a little kitchen in it and everything. You’d seen less people here in a few days than you had in two minutes outside in Busan.

Overwhelming, yes. That was the right word for it.

And then of course, there was the sheer abundance of fresh and delicious food available. You’d eaten fresh, real tuna the other day in a sandwich made with bread that had been baked that morning. It had boggled your mind how delightful it tasted, only cementing how terrible the fake food that was served on Earth was.

Milkshakes were also a revelation, the vanilla taste so rich and indulgent with a wonderfully smooth texture that just slid down your throat. You’d spent a good two hours in a café on the first day, amazed at the world as you watched it pass by outside the window.

New Seoul had the neon signs still, they were almost a tradition of big cities in the galaxy at this point, but they were almost tasteful now. Advertising clothes or virt-real arcades where children and teenagers flocked. Restaurants used them to announce their menu of the day and so much more. It was beautiful here, elegant almost.

The people walking around New Seoul even looked different to back in Busan. They looked healthy and strong here, happy and full of life and hope. Everyone was a little taller here too, a side effect of the planet having less gravity than Earth. It had been a little awkward for you at first, feeling ever so slightly weightless.

You were stronger than people born and raised here too. That had been something you’d known objectively but forgotten until you’d accidentally launched an empty cup into the recycling. A few odd stares had occurred but no one said anything. People were generally used to the differences in strength and ability, but it was still amusing to see sometimes.

A slightly more negative discovery had been that your years of studying the Korean language had apparently been in vain. It was your mother tongue, the native language of Busan and therefore the mother tongue of New Korea as well. You’d only naturally thought that it would be useful to continue on your studies of the language past the basic lessons in your early childhood.

As such, you’d never considered there’d be anything wrong. But you’d forgotten that New Korea was founded over 700 years ago and the vast majority of the population today had emigrated at some point over the past few centuries. The socio-economic situation on Earth meant that immigration from Old Korea had been a trickle, one that had often run dry.

With that lack of interaction over the centuries...the Korean language spoken here had become almost unintelligible to you. They used words you’d never even heard of and even some of the grammar had shifted. What should have been a warm and easy welcome had become fraught with difficulty as you struggled to understand the silken tones and dancing syllables they used.

Your own Korean, slightly more standardised in the 32nd century than what it had once been, was equally as confusing to them. They could understand you to a degree, but it was like you were speaking some bizarre dialect with odd formalities. And apparently, your dialect was considered to be rough and grating.

Despite the pain at realising you would struggle with that, you had the reassuring balm that New Seoul taught in Standard. But you were a smart person, you would enlist in Korean lessons here and learn this language that was the same but entirely different.

Biting your lip, you looked out over the large classroom and inhaled deeply. It smelt clean, the slightest hint of vanilla in the air from the scent diffusers installed into the air units while the seats were currently folded up, soft memory foam in black waiting for students to sit in them.

Hesitantly, you head over to one of the centre rows and sit down. The chair is possibly the comfiest thing you’ve ever sat in, and you’re positive it cost more than anything in your old bedroom. It kind of annoyed you to think that, but you pushed the thought away quickly. You were here now. You were going to make something of your life.

Pulling out your PED, you extended it out and turned on the screen, watching the holoscreen come to life in front of you. A quick tap had a keyboard appearing on the desk in front of you and you navigated through to the relevant class information on the university intranet.

“Err...is it okay if I sit here?” A deep voice asks beside you, his accent oddly lyrical as he spoke Standard to you. Glancing up, you see a guy standing next to you. He’s ridiculously attractive with hair that you presume to be black looking all ruffled on his head. His eyes are kind though while his smile is nervous.

Nodding, you gesture to the seat and smile back at him as he sits down.

He sets up his own desk before looking at you, pausing for a moment before obviously taking the plunge and leaning forward. “Are you from here too? Or are you an off planet?”

“Oh, I’m off planet. I’m...err...well I’m from Earth. Old Korea actually. You? I’m Y/N by the way.” His eyes widen at your words and you see him do a quick scan of your body, not even caring that you could blatantly see him doing it. You must pass some internal test before he shrugs, settling back in his seat.

“Taehyung. I’m from Alexandros. I get the feeling we’re both going to suffer a bit of a cultural learning curve.” Snorting, you roll your eyes and nod at that. Already you feel comfortable and at home with him, even though you’ve barely spoken. Something about him is exceptionally friendly and nice.

Despite him not explaining, you know why he said it. Alexandros is a planet with a reputation, much like Earth. Only his planet’s reputation is a little more...hedonistic in nature. Sex of all kinds wasn’t illegal on there, even the kinds that you personally thought should be illegal.

Marriage didn’t exist and polyamory was the norm. Most people had multiple partners which resulted in multiple children. You didn’t know the in’s and out’s of it, but it was basically the planet you went to if you just wanted a good time. It held the title of the best wine and beer made in the galaxy along with a surprisingly good restaurant scene according to the information pages about them.

New Korea...was not as free as Alexandros and you felt that you and Taehyung were certainly going to have to learn what was acceptable and what wasn’t here. Just getting used to the fact that this place had actual laws that mattered, like not walking across the road anywhere other than at specified crossing areas.

“Yeah...we’re gonna have a bit of a tough time huh? I even discovered that not only is Earth considered backwards to everyone else, we really are because I can’t even understand their Korean.” He laughs at that, his smile box like and you can’t help but smile in response.

“Shit...that must suck. At least you can speak Standard though. So like, feel free to tell me to fuck off if it offends you but...does Earth really suck as bad as everyone says? I’ve never met anyone from there.” Taehyung is inquisitive, a tiny frown of interest on his face and you let out a small sigh.

“It really is. Let’s just say...well this is the first time I’ve ever seen the sky. Like...without pollution and stuff. And trees. I’ve never seen a real tree. It’s all very...I tried tuna! And real beef! Oh my, it was amazing. You don’t understand what luxury the galaxy has without even realising it!” The wonder in your voice and excitement that resonates causing Taehyung to grin even bigger.

“I’ve...never considered it before to be honest. I mean, I’ve never had tuna. It’s not a common food on Alexandros but I have had other seafood if that counts? I’m interested in trying the beef here, apparently they have some ancient way of cooking it?” Nodding, you open up a new screen on your PED and quickly type into the search.

“Yes, it’s a traditional Korean barbecue, they cook it on the table for you. Or rather you cook it. We actually do still have this back home but it doesn’t really taste nice because they don’t even bother washing the grills anymore so it’s covered in black crap. And the meat is just...artificial crap. I’m excited to try it here though, I bet they use real sauce too.”

You don’t see the way Taehyung looks at you in pure wonderment, completely bemused by how excited you’re getting over something as simple as real meat and sauce. Pausing, you glance over and lower your head in embarrassment which immediately gets him shaking his head with a smile.

“Hey don’t get upset, I want to try it too. We should go, you seem to know what would be good. This is me trying to make friends by the way. I feel we could both use with at least one friend here, right?” You eyed him in astonishment, surprised that he was this bold and forward. No one cared about others back on Earth, they certainly didn’t embrace friendliness this quickly.

“Are you always this forward?”

Taehyung nods enthusiastically, his hair flying everywhere as he does so and you can’t help but laugh at him. “Oh yeah. It’s an Alexandros trait but my mom’s and dad’s always said I was the most outgoing out of my siblings. It’s why they paid for my tuition and everything to come here. They felt I’d make a good teacher!”

Humming quietly, you wonder whether to be as forward with him as he’d been with you. Eyeing him for a second, you decide to go for it. He can’t get upset when he just asked something that could have been hurtful to you.

“So it’s really true about Alexandros? Multiple partners and stuff?” To his credit, Taehyung doesn’t even look slightly bothered about your question. He’s busy opening up the class documents on his own PED, tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

“Oh yeah. I’ve had a lot of dad’s and mom’s and parents who didn’t identify as either gender. Some of them are still around, some have moved on to other places. At last count, I’ve had eight dad’s, six mom’s and two non-binary parents. I believe I have,” He pauses, looking up and doing some quick calculations. “Twenty two brothers and sixteen sisters. It all started because our planet wasn’t the most hospitable at the start and so they had to have more kids to be able to actually have a normal amount survive. Now everyone just likes sex and big families. It’s cool.”

You’re positive that your eyes are wide, but it’s just a completely foreign idea to you. Earth actively encouraged small families, trying to desperately reduce the rampant overpopulation. You’d never met anyone with a sibling. Nevermind thirty eight siblings!

“That’s...wow. I’m not being like...rude or anything. The idea of that on Earth is...horrifying actually. That’s how to end up in absolute poverty on the streets. It must be nice though, having such a big family around you.” He hums, lips twisting while his hand shakes slightly.

“Yes and no. It’s fun and you always have support but the fights aren’t fun, let me tell you that.” Smiling at him, you turn your head as the professor enters from the door at the bottom of the room.

“Well Taehyung...how about you tell me all about it over some barbecue later?” With an even bigger smile, he shakes your hand and nods his head in acceptance.

4 Years Later

Over the last four years at New Seoul University, you’ve learnt many things about not only the world outside of Earth but about yourself. You’d learnt that you were not as smart as you’d originally thought you were, but you’d come to terms with that and even enjoyed no longer being the shining example in class.

You’d learnt to no longer worry and stress about your future, instead choosing to live in the moment. This was something that people on Earth simply wouldn’t really understand, because they had no real future. But you had the galaxy in your hands now, and after you finished your final year of your degree then you’d be able to venture out into the world.

You’d learnt that the universe really did consider Earth a backwater dump, one to which you couldn’t even really argue about. But the rest of the galaxy wasn’t all roses either. Niflheim, so named after the Ancient Norse world of fog, mist and darkness, was a planet that was probably even more harsh to live on than Earth. A planet of near perpetual storms of ice, most of the inhabitants had to survive underneath specially built domes that protected the buildings that led to the mineshafts deep in the astonishingly large mountains.

Despite it’s unforgiving nature, Niflheim was popular to work in because of the Helite its small towns mined, a material that was incredibly hard yet surprisingly flexible. It had a high resale value, making the tough world hard to live in but valuable to those who roughed it out.

You’d learnt to explore yourself as well, enjoying your life for once instead of pushing yourself hard to succeed academically to the point you had no life. Taehyung had helped here, decreeing that it simply wasn’t acceptable that you kept shutting yourself in your dorm room and doing all of your homework way in advance of the deadlines.

As he pointed out, life was for living...not punishing yourself.

So you kept up your high grades to maintain your scholarships, but you lived a little more freely too. You’d shyly dated a few people here and there, sad that none of them brought beautiful to your world, and learnt many new things about yourself.

Unsurprisingly, you weren’t a fan of casual sex but you’d also discovered that you hated beer but enjoyed wine. Alcohol was far too expensive on Earth so most people made their own version which could be bought cheap. But it also came with a far higher mortality rate because you never knew what was going into it.

But you enjoyed it here, understood why people thought wine was more ‘sophisticated’ and had become quite accustomed to a glass at night. Another benefit to being friends, or more correctly best friends now, with one Kim Taehyung was that he had a much more lax view about sex than anyone else around here. And that was saying something compared to you.

Which meant that instead of casual sex, you’d been friends with benefits with him for well over a year. To him, it was purely sex and he didn’t mind giving it to you even if he was dating because of the culture he’d grown up in. He made it clear with his partners that he was free to date others and have sex with others too. But you’d mostly kept to him, not really enjoying putting yourself out there for anyone else in a while.

This was the start of your fourth, and final year at university. And you still see in black and white and all the shades of grey in between. It made your heart hurt and sometimes, at night in your shared apartment when you were a little tipsy, you lamented to Taehyung that maybe you’d never see colour.

Given the planet he came from and it’s views on sex, dating and all of that, it was perhaps unsurprising that Taehyung viewed the idea of soulmates with more than a little skepticism. In fact, you were positive he thought it was all just a bunch of shit but was being too polite and nice to tell you otherwise.

Not when he could see how much the belief that there was someone out there meant to you; someone who would love you unconditionally and who you would adore in turn, someone who would bring colour and joy to your world.

He’d acknowledged that you were in fact colour blind, many times accidentally asking you for colour advice on outfits or hair before hitting his head in realisation when you stared at him blankly. But he probably just thought it was some medical condition caused by being raised on Earth.

Soulmates didn’t really gel with the Alexandros philosophy on relationships. You didn’t complain too much to him, even though you knew of stories where people had multiple soulmates back in the old times. A lot of people today who heard about soulmates thought they were always, ironically, black and white in terms of who was bonded together.

A man and a woman, but that was wrong. Fate brought together the two souls who complemented each other the most. Men and women, yes, but also two women, two men, those who don't identify as either and so much more. Fate didn’t care about humanity’s ideas of sexuality or gender...it just cared about finding two people who would be perfect for each other.

But most people didn’t believe it anyway, so you didn’t see any point in trying to educate them. Not when they obviously had no visible reason to believe in it.

You did though. The café that you stared out at right now told you that there was someone for you, because there was no way you’d been born this colour blind and had such a desperate urge to leave your planet and come here otherwise. They were here, you were sure of it.

It’s just that there were over 2 billion people on this planet, so your chances were slim.

“Is there a particular reason you’ve been drying that cup for five minutes now?” The deep voice of Taehyung causes you to jump slightly, jerked out of your thoughts abruptly. Turning to look at him, you see his ever smiling face watching you intently as he leans his hip against the sink.

“Sorry...I just...new year and all that. Just...thinking.” You can’t even find a reason for him, instead just shrugging and placing the cup down before grabbing another and beginning to dry it. Glancing out over the café that you both work in, just one of the many that dot the city of New Seoul.

If there’s one thing that both old and new Korea have in common, it’s their avid love of coffee. The only difference between the two is that real coffee and milk is actually used here and not fake stuff. You could personally attest that it made all the difference to have the real stuff, it was far more flavourful and creamy.

This café is one that’s just on the outskirts of the university, meaning that it was frequented by students at all times of the day. From noon to midnight and even at 4am, there would be at least one student in its warm and fragrant walls.

You liked working here, even if it added to your stress by giving you even less time in the day for yourself but it also helped to give you an extra money flow. The scholarships and grants were great, but you needed more money to save away for when you’d finished uni.

New Korea thankfully gave automatic citizenship to anyone from Old Korea due to the historical relations between the two and you would be accepting that as soon as you’d finished uni. You would admit that perhaps you were trying to game the system by waiting until you had a degree in your hand as accepting citizenship now would mean losing the money from the United Nations Government.

Taehyung said you were being smart, but you felt like you were being selfish. But at the same time, you almost felt like Earth owes you it at least. You would be the best kind of PR for the planet, born on the ancient homeworld of humanity and dragged yourself out of it through sheer willpower and smarts.

So you worked at the café to help yourself out, letting you put away half your wages into a savings account that you would use to put down a deposit for an apartment when you finish school. The other half went to just actually enjoying life.

��All your classes are sorted right? You’re in the same Children’s Cognitive Development class as me right? With Dr Oh?” Your best friend asks, reaching past you for a cup before heading over to the coffee machine. The selling point of this café is that it uses traditional methods to make its coffee, which means the machines here are just modern versions of those that were used over a thousand years ago.

Apparently it made the best tasting coffee, despite all the advancements of technology since.

You would agree to be honest. It wasn’t quick but that almost seemed to make it taste better.

“Yeah, I’ve got that and then I’ve also taken Interplanetary Children’s Education, The Psychology of Childhood and Teaching Special Needs.” The cups are all dry now and you begin stacking them back up in their relevant area, making sure that the café logo is facing forwards as you’d been taught long ago.

“Damn, big schedule. You’ve got the dissertation to do, you need to remember that too.” Tae points out, grabbing the carton of milk out of the refrigeration unit and adding it into the drink he’s making. Nodding, you give him a quick smile.

“I know. I’ve already decided on my topic, it’s basically going to be about how the education system is meant to be set up to be applicable to all children across all planets but it still benefits those who are better off than those in poverty.” Glancing over at you, Taehyung puts the cup and saucer onto the small tray before reaching into the counter, cutting off a piece of luxurious strawberry and cream cake before carefully placing that on the tray too.

“I wonder why the girl from Earth has chosen that topic?” He muses with a smile, brow rising at you and you just give him another innocent shrug. Your teacher had thought that same thing when you proposed it, but he’d supported you in your topic anyway.

“Can you take this out? Table 12.” He says, nodding out into the area and you smile before acknowledging his request. Brushing your hands down your black apron, you look out and your eyes widen as you see who’s sat at the table, PED glowing in front of him as a small frown knots his brow together.

“Jung Hoseok? Are you kidding?” That Tae laughing quietly, looking over before giving you a conspiratorial grin. He knows full well about your little crush on one of the most eligible bachelors on New Korea.

Everyone knew who Jung Hoseok was, his family had been one of the first to emigrate to New Korea and had been instrumental in the founding of New Seoul. His family was astonishingly rich and well cultured, his genealogy being traced back not only centuries but centuries before humanity left Earth.

That alone made him one of the most eligible bachelors. Everyone wanted to be rich, and bagging one of the founding families was certainly the way to ensure you were rich and someone who mattered. You knew that Hoseok’s father was a Congressman in the government of New Korea, involved in regulating laws, business and more for the whole planet.

His mother was heavily involved in the education system itself. Despite that, Hoseok had got into university on his own merit. Despite your dissertation subject, the university exams were all done anonymously. So he’d gotten here by his own brain and not by the money his parents had.

Another reason he was incredibly popular and wanted though, was because he was so damn attractive. A straight slope of a nose ended in the slightest curve upwards, combining with the sharp cut of his jaw to give him one of the most astonishing side profiles ever. Soft cheeks were dotted with sweet dimples that showed when he was happy, frustrated or thinking.

Long and elegant fingers had apparently grown up playing the piano while his eyes were pools of friendliness and warmth. Jung Hoseok was well known for being exceptionally polite and friendly, one of the most affable people in the whole university. He had no real enemies and tried hard to stay on the good side of everyone.

And he did, because he was just so damn...nice.

He was astonishingly beautiful, his black hair a little fluffy and mussed together with no styling in it. You didn’t know what colour his clothes were today, all you knew was that it looked like his jeans were dark and his shirt was white. Taehyung had confirmed his hair colour long ago to you and you could only imagine how astonishing he looked in colour.

In monochrome, he was quite possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

You were best friends with Taehyung too, so that was high praise.

And Taehyung knew all about your little crush on the important, influential, beautiful and friendly heir. You’d never even spoken to the man before, simply simpered over him from behind the counter whenever he was here.

You’d never encountered someone who had lit up your thoughts and captured your dreams quite like him. He made your stomach feel a little funny when he was here, like there were little birds flying around inside that were trying to make their way out.

But now you had to go out there and talk to him. And give him what he’d ordered. He probably wouldn’t even notice you. Hoseok was two years older than you, in his final year of a business management master’s degree and you were positive he was going to go into some area of his family business once done.

As such, your paths had never had any reason to cross outside out of the café, so he probably hadn’t even noticed you existed. Most people didn’t really pay attention to the staff in places, even here in New Seoul where everyone was meant to be a little more ‘cultured’.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly brush over the flyaway hairs on your face and brush away imaginary dirt from your apron once more before grasping the tray. It shakes only a little bit, and part of you wonders why you’re so bothered about him. You’d never been this bothered about anyone even when you’d been dating them.

Heading out, you see Taehyung give you a thumbs up with a cheesy smile as he accepts a new order from the terminal that a customer has sent through from the holo menus in the tables. He’s distracted immediately and you’re left on your own, walking over to Hoseok.

Smiling politely with your best customer service face, you place the ceramic saucer on the table before carefully placing the matching cup on top. The familiar clink that occurs when they meet each other is lost in the overall noise that crowds the café. Glancing down, you add the piece of strawberry and cream cake that he’d ordered as well before placing the dainty silver fork next to it.

“Here’s your drink and food sir, I hope you find it enjoyable.” You say politely, tipping your head in a slight bow as you hold the tray against your waist, pressing against the apron that makes up part of the uniform you had to wear here. This had been part of the training that you’d had to actively learn when compared to the others who worked here and had grown up on New Korea.

Taehyung had had to learn to incorporate cultural differences into his daily and work life as well, so at least you hadn’t been on your own there. Customer’s were treated like mini deities here, and while it was pleasing when you were on the receiving end, it wasn’t entirely nice when you were on the other end. Most customers were equally nice but some, as expected, were not. Those were the ones who tried to take advantage of staff.

You hated dealing with those.

But you knew Hoseok wouldn’t be like that. He’d never raised his voice to any member of staff here at the café before, in fact you’d never heard of him shouting or being mean to anyone. You wish you could that was because of his upper class upbringing here on New Seoul, but usually those people ended up being the ones who had the worst manners.

Not Hoseok though. Jung Hoseok was always exceptionally polite and friendly to everyone. Part of the charm that made him idolised by those at New Seoul University while also making him a prime bachelor for the many single women and men here. If you had to make a list of the top ten most eligible men in New Seoul University, Hoseok would probably be in the top three.

Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin would be battling it out for the other places no doubt.

You turn once he’s acknowledged you with a small smile and a quick thanks, his voice deeper and quieter than you expected, shifting your tray in your hands as you look back over to the counter to check if Taehyung’s okay or if you’re okay to collect the leftover cups and plates on the empty tables.

A sudden warm weight on your wrist jerks you to a halt, surprising you because you weren’t expecting Hoseok to interact with you anymore. Brows raising, you turn back to Hoseok as you hear him begin to speak.

“Excuse me, miss-” He pauses though and you frown, wondering why until you look directly into his eyes once more. They’re a colour that you’ve never seen before, which causes you to pause in surprise, leaning back slightly.

Hoseok is staring at you with equally wide eyes that flick over your face, brow creasing ever so slightly while his mouth remains open. For a few seconds, it seems like the world outside of you both has paused and there is only Hoseok and you.

Brown. That must be the colour. You’d overheard girls on occasion gushing over Hoseok’s rich brown eyes. At the time, you’d shrugged off the comment without a second thought. Life without colour had become familiar to you, so you couldn’t miss what you’d never had.

But now, now that you can see the beautiful colours slowly bleeding to life as you look him over. His skin is more vibrant in colour, his sweater an odd shade darker than white actually that you can’t quite figure out. Jeans remain black while his equally black boots remain on his feet, matching the dark and luscious locks on his head.

Even there though, you can see hints of brown shining through their strands, blending together in a beautiful colour. Looking away from him, you see colour everywhere suddenly. Green, the colour of the grass outside that had always just looked pale to you.

Hoseok’s hand tightens on your wrist and you look back at him, ignorant of everything else once more. Confusion is written all over his face and you get the sudden sense that he’s probably extremely overwhelmed with what’s happening right now.

“What just happened?” He whispers, confirming your suspicions. But he sounds so lost and meek, almost afraid that your heart clenched tightly with the need to console him. Uncaring whether your manager or colleagues get annoyed, you sit opposite him at the small table, the cup of coffee still steaming between you both.

His hand is still on your wrist, warm and solid.

“Are you seeing colours right now? Like...real colours?” You ask softly, leaning forward and keeping your voice low. Part of you wants to look around and take everything in, but the abundance of sheer...variety of colour that the world has makes your brain hurt a little, unable to take everything in.

It’s even worse given that you don’t even know what some of these colours are, your mind grasping for answers it simply doesn’t know.

Hoseok looks much the same, squinting his eyes slightly and you marvel at the fact that even light itself appears to have a colour.

“How do you know that? What just happened?” Hoseok asks insistently, moving forward to shorten the distance between yourself and him. You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re going to say next to him will make no sense. New Korea is a planet that stopped believing in soulmates long ago, the concept dying quickly as those with the knowledge passed away.

Anyone who finds their soulmate now does it by accident, so there’s no wonder Hoseok has no idea what’s going on. He probably just thought he’s always been colourblind because of some medical reason no one can figure out.

Just like you.

“I...okay, this is going to sound very strange and silly. But...have you heard of soulmates?” He tilts his head, eyes still blank at the word before shrugging slightly, lips pursing.

“In films I think. Maybe a book or two. Aren’t they just myths?” You shake your head slowly, taking a deep breath to stabilise yourself and your feelings before letting it out just as slow. It doesn’t really work, but you try to pretend that it did.

“Soulmates aren’t myths. They’re real. And...well...I don’t know how to say this to you without weirding you out but...I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate. And I’m yours.”

Hoseok just stares at you, face completely expressionless. For a moment, you think he’s going to laugh at you loudly and walk off, resolving to never come to this café again because of the strange Earthen girl babbling about soulmates and stuff. But instead, he releases your wrist and sits back against his chair with a soft ‘oof’, eyes widening.

“What?”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, there’s an odd tension between you and the man you fully believe to be your soulmates as you walk quietly through the nearby park. He hasn’t said a word since leaving the café and the bubbling in gut is a mix of excitement that you’d finally found him and worry that he wouldn’t believe you.

That he’d turn and walk away.

It had been ten minutes since you’d quickly rushed back to Taehyung behind the counter, begging him to cover the rest of your shift even though he was due to finish. Understandably, he’d been more than a little confused and surprised.

The half counter door swings shut behind you silently, the only sign it had been opened was the gentle swaying as it settles back into its usual place. Taehyung is currently adding the cherry syrup onto the whipped cream in the hot chocolate he’d made for a waiting customer, his face scrunched as he concentrated on the task at hand.

Chaeyoung is currently pulling the freshly baked goods out of the auto oven, placing the tray on the side to let them cool down for a bit before adding them onto the shelves in the counter for people to choose something to snack on. She hasn’t noticed your rushed appearance though, only her vibrant blue hair visible as she hums quietly to the gentle music piping through the hidden speakers in the café.

Once Tae had finished his latte and placed it on the counter to be collected, you grabbed his arm tightly and tugged him towards the back. He looked at you with confusion, dark brows tighty knitted together in concern at whatever expression you had on your face.

“Tae...I need you to cover my shift. Please, please say yes!” You beg him, letting go of his arm to clasp your hands together while you made your eyes go as wide as possible, pleading with him desperately to get him to agree.

“What? Why? I finish in ten minutes? You don’t finish for another two hours!” He begins to complain, the corners of his lips already turning down in a pout that would tug at your heartstrings.

But you can’t give in to him this time. Not now.

Glancing back outside at the café, you’re relieved to see that Hoseok is still sitting at his table. His own expression is a carefully blank one, the lower half of his face hidden as he drinks deeply from the cup you’d placed in front of him only minutes earlier.

“I found him. I found him Tae.” Taehyung’s expression slips into its own version of Hoseok’s, face not giving away anything as he obviously doesn’t understand what you’re on about.

“My soulmate! It’s Hoseok.” That gets an incredulous look, Taehyung’s eyebrows rising high on his forehead until they’re disappearing beneath his ruffled hair. They soon begin to track down though as disbelief fills him and he leans back, looking out of the door himself at the man in question.

“Jung Hoseok...is your soulmate...right. Okay.” You can tell he’s trying really hard not to put down your hopes here. He’s never believed in soulmates and despite the stories you’ve told him over the years, he’s remained firm in the belief that they’re just old wives tales from a planet that’s been dying for centuries now.

A small piece of hope for people who don’t have any.

But you still believed. And now you’d been proven right.

Glancing around the items stored on various shelves in the back room, you suddenly point towards a box of fresh coffee beans. “That’s green. And...and your hair is blue! Like the sky outside. That cup is...red and that box is brown.”

Taehyung follows your gestures, suspicion deep within them at first before slowly his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

“Holy shit. You can see colour now? What colour is this?” He asks loudly, pulling out another box from one of the shelves and holding it up. You can’t even begin to describe the colour, your brow creasing in a frown as you try to find a reference for what it could be.

“...light red?” Taehyung laughs loudly.

“Kind of. Pink. It’s pink. Actually it’s more of a fuchsia which is like...a pink mixed with a purple. Which you also don’t know so I should shut up. But anyway...how did that happen?” Chewing your lip, you shrug lightly.

“I don’t know. I mean...well...Hoseok touched my wrist to get my attention and then suddenly...it was like the world filled in. And he had the same expression, looking around everywhere. So I asked him if he can see colour now and he asked how I knew that. He...I...I mean...if he couldn’t see colour either until he touched me? You know I’ve liked him for ages too!” You’re not entirely sure why you’re almost begging him to believe you, but you need someone to accept you’re not just talking bullshit.

“Damn...yeah. Okay...I’ll bite then. Yeah, I’ll cover your shift. Go talk to him or whatever it is soulmates do. If it really is soulmates. Holy shit. Y/N, you do realise that’s Jung mother-fucking Hoseok out there? Not just some regular college guy?” Pointing out the door, he looks at you with deep concern and you feel warmth blossom inside at his protectiveness over you.

You know what he’s talking about. Of all the people in the universe, it had to be him.

“I know. I know...I just...well we’ll talk to each other and...see what happens I guess?”

What happens is apparently a lot of silence. You’re not sure if this is just Hoseok’s general nature, if he’s angry or if he’s just in shock. What you’ve seen and heard of him over the years indicates that he’s not particularly a generally quiet person.

Sure, he has his moments. But mostly he’s pretty loud when with people he likes and almost abnormally friendly. Not right now though. Right now he’s the quietest you’ve ever seen him, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans while his boots are silent on the ground. They’re obviously high end with in-built silencing fabric. You don’t even want to imagine the cost.

His bag is now slung over his shoulder, the contents of which you don’t know. Bags aren’t exactly the most common thing in today’s society, nearly everything could be done either on a PED or the small biochip that was implanted into everyone’s wrist. A combination ID card, bank card and more.

Finally though, he stops at an old-fashioned wooden bench with ornate metal woven between it. It’s been coated in weather-resistant paint, the black colour still as vibrant and shiny as the day it had been originally painted on.

For a moment, you simply stare at that and find yourself speaking without even thinking.

“Wow, even black looks different in colour.” It’s true, even if you didn’t mean to say it out loud. Hoseok’s lips pursed for a moment before he looked to his side, taking in the railing with interest before nodding and letting out a quiet noise of agreement from his throat.

And then you find yourself staring at him, taking in his sheer beauty before then looking around the park as well. It’s truly astonishing to see so much colour, to know that people just grew up being able to see this all the time. You couldn’t have even imagined just how many different variations of green there are, the shades running from the darkest green that almost borders on black to the pretty and palest green you’d spotted on a few flowers.

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper gently, eyes running along an ancient tree that towers above you both. It’s trunk is thick and strong, the bark a shade between grey and brown while the leaves that sway in the breeze are a mixture of greens and what you presume to be orange and yellow. The science books said that was generally what colour leaves went during autumn, but New Korea had species of trees that weren’t found on Earth.

Either way, it was possibly one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

“It is. And I don’t really mean to interrupt you, because I kinda really just wanna look around too, but...I need you to explain. Please.” Hoseok gestures to the bench next to him with an imploring look and you see the pure confusion in his eyes. The poor guy's life has suddenly been turned upside down and he has absolutely no idea what’s just happened apart from a quickly blurted out statement from you in a café.

Honestly, he’s taking it all pretty well.

Taking a deep breath, you use it to fortify yourself as best you can before sitting down next to him. A quick glance over at him lets you see that he’s staring at you, and you find yourself looking away shyly in response to his intense gaze. Somehow, you’d always imagined meeting your soulmate as being a little more...romantic.

Obviously you hadn’t actually considered the awkwardness that would ensue upon two or more random people meeting each other and finding out that they’d been chosen by destiny to be perfect for one another. Then again, the stories focused on the love and romance of it all.

“Erm, well. Like I said earlier...we’re soulmates. Or like...I’m pretty sure we are. I err, I grew up on Earth. In Old Korea. And there’s still stories about soulmates back there, they’re not as popular anymore and they’re almost gone everywhere else but my mom always told me about them. She was convinced that the reason I couldn’t see in colour was because I was meant to get off Earth because someone was waiting for me out there.”

“What if your soulmate had been on Earth though?” Hoseok interrupts, looking thoughtful as he leans back against the bench and you pause, considering that. You’d pondered this a few times yourself over the years, but she’d been so adamant and desperate for you to leave that you’d pushed it away every time.

“Well...she might have just been telling me it. I mean, whatever you’ve heard about Earth...the reality is ten times worse. No mother wants to try and keep their kid on that hell planet anymore. So maybe she was but, I believed her. I used to read the stories all the time, of people finding each other through soul marks or just accidentally coming across each other. Two people who fate had decided were perfect for each other, complementary souls who would make each other happy in the long run. Who wouldn’t want that?” Hoseok’s brow rises slowly.

“I don’t know, freedom of choice is a really great thing.” He says dryly and you feel yourself wilt under his tone. You’ve dealt with Taehyung for long enough to understand where this is going. Hoseok thinks you’re being outrageous, having all these wild claims. Understandable, but it doesn’t stop the pain in your stomach when you think that it probably means he’ll leave.

“Yeah…” Trailing off, you look down at your hands and simply watch as you play with your fingers nervously, wondering what you’re meant to say. Anything is going to sound crazy to him and you’re trying to think of things that won’t send him running.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I just...this is all a little overwhelming and I get the feeling you’re understanding more than me. So please, continue. I’ll be less of a dick.” With those few sentences, you can already hear the centuries of high class breeding that has gone in Hoseok. Because there’s no one on Earth that would’ve been that polite about just potentially causing offence.

“It’s...it’s just. It all sounds so silly now I’m saying it out loud and you’re right. There’s no choice involved which makes it bad, right?” Looking at him, you give him pleading eyes but he has no response for you. “But I just...I’ve spent all my life looking in black and white. I used to watch the spaceport out of my bedroom window and wish I could see the stars, see the universe in the same colour everyone else did. And my mom told me it's because I have someone out there, someone who will make me happy and who will love me.”

Pausing, you swallow before shifting slightly to look at him.

“You have to understand. I can’t even begin to describe Earth to you, how bad it is. I made it here and...I can’t even begin to say how low my chances were. But I did. I just...I really believe that you’re...my soulmate. As stupid as that sounds to you. I’ve always felt like I needed to leave Earth, that I had to leave Earth. And I always wanted to come here to New Seoul. I thought it was just because I thought I’d have an easier time you know? Old and New Korea, it’d be similar. But when I made it here, I knew that I had to work to sustain myself and I picked here...like I just felt it was right for me. That probably sounds weird and stalkerish, huh? I just...looking back now, it feels like everything in my life has-”

“Lead to you a little café off the campus of New Seoul?” Hoseok says, his voice is carefully neutral and you look at him with surprise. You hadn’t expected him to say anything and he sounds strange. His expression is odd too, almost thoughtful as he stares down at the path.

Slowly you nod, even though he isn’t looking at you but you feel the need to let him work through whatever his thoughts are. And then he lets out a snorted laugh, shaking his head as he gives you a lopsided smile.

“You know, I thought you were full of shit in the café. I mean sure, I didn’t have any other explanation as to why suddenly I was seeing colour but I thought I’d let you talk. Even if I was sat here thinking ‘what the fuck is she on about? Soulmates?’. And then you kept talking and...it made sense,” Pausing, he glances over to you. “I’ve always been obsessed with Earth. The history and the culture. I actually wanted to do an Earth Studies major but my parents would’ve killed me. I didn’t really know why I was fascinated with it, not when everyone knows it’s one of the worst planets in the galaxy. But I just...absorbed everything I could about it. My mom was terrified that when I was eighteen that I’d run off there or something.”

Hoseok laughs at that, his face breaking into a bright smile as he glances up at the astonishingly blue sky. There’s a moment where he stops talking, his eyes simply wide as he watches it in wonder and you can’t take your own eyes off him. The smile of pure joy and wonder on his face makes your heart twist a little and you rub at your chest.

“I’m not that stupid. Besides, I got to choose a university and I just...wanted to come here. Had to. And then when I finished my degree, I felt like I should stay. Do a postgrad course. This makes a lot of sense now.”

Chewing your lip, you wonder what to say to him and shift nervously, hands clasping and unclasping as you run through options in your mind. Was he seriously saying that he’d experienced the same urges that you had throughout life? The obsession and desire to go somewhere else with no real knowledge as to what was pushing it? Was it really the bond between you?

“I just thought I kept going to the café because I thought you were cute.” He says it so casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, that you don’t even realise what he’d actually said. And when it finally processes, your eyes widen almost comically.

“What?” You blurt out and Hoseok gives a small smile, looking a little awkward as he rubs the back of his neck before letting out one, long breath. This wasn’t where you’d been expecting it to go at all.

“I mean...are you really surprised? If what you say is true...and we’re...soulmates, then it kinda makes sense. From what you’ve said and what I just told you, it seems like we’ve had something trying to get us near each other even if we didn’t know what that was. So if whatever that was, was powerful enough to make you move to a different planet...then I think me liking you is the easy bit really.” Hoseok shrugs slightly, shifting to face you a little better before holding out his hand.

Pausing, you stare down at the palm facing you and lick at your suddenly dry lips. This is both exactly how you’d imagined this scenario going but also nothing like you’d imagined it all at once, and you’re not entirely sure how to feel about it all.

“Don’t you think it’s weird though? I mean...I just came up to you and started spouting all this soulmate bullshit and yeah sure, if I did this back on Earth to someone then they’d probably believe me easily because we believe in the stories more back there but you don’t. Not here. And you have no choice, like you said. I mean, you’re right, it’s not fair really. I don’t like...want you to feel pressured into anything because that’s not right.” You’re babbling, and you’re well aware that you’re babbling. There’s an inkling inside you that tells you that Hoseok also knows that you’re babbling, because he’s giving you a distinctly droll stare.

“Okay, Y/N,” You’re shocked that he knows your name but then remember the badge on your shirt that portrays the letters proudly in white holograms on a black background. “Yes, you’re right. I don’t think it’s fair, but then it’s also not fair for you. And it’s all a little fantastical and strange. But I have heard of the stories. I don't know much about them but I’ve heard of them. I was obsessed with Earth remember? Plus...both of us started seeing colour the moment I touched you. And even though you’re telling me all these things that sound pretty crazy and I’m more than a tiny bit bewildered by it all...sitting here with you is just about the best thing I’ve done all week.”

Silence fills the air between you after that statement, expectant from him and stunned from you. You suppose that you should be thankful that he’s not running away from you as fast as he possibly can but you’re just...confused as to why he’s so laid back about it all.

And also shy, because this man who you’ve been crushing on for a long time, who is your soulmate, has admitted to liking you in turn. So much that he thought just sitting with you was good.

“Look, I could freak out and start screaming about how you’re talking bullshit and then walk off. I could avoid you for the rest of my life whenever I see you. But I don’t want to do that. I really, really don’t want to do that. I considered it while walking here, but something in me...something really deep in me shied away from that idea. So I’m going to roll with the punches. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard I guess. And I mean...it costs me nothing to try, right?”

Staring at him with wide eyes, you feel your mouth open and close dumbly. Finally, you jerk your head away and swallow, wondering what you’re meant to do now. You’re not surprised to realise that you have absolutely no idea, so you tell him so.

“I don’t know what to do now. I mean...the stories never really talked about...this,” You gesture between you both. “So I mean...what happens?”

Hoseok lets out a cheerful laugh, the sound surprisingly high and infectious as it causes you to smile along with him. Looking at you, he carefully reaches out and takes your hand. His skin is soft and warm against yours and it’s almost like everything in your body focuses on that touch.

Glancing back at him, you wonder if he’s feeling the same because he can’t stop staring at your hands as well, his brows knitted slightly as a curious expression paints itself on his face. He snaps out of it quickly, turning his eyes to your own face before giving you a slight smile.

“Well...I guess this is probably the part where we get to act like normal people and just...go on a date? Maybe not somewhere too colourful right now but...I like the sound of that?” You can tell that he does by the hopeful tone to his voice and your mind does a leap of joy at it, amazed that he’s not only taking this all pretty well but seems to be pretty excited at the prospect of dating you.

So you smile at him sweetly, turning your hand until you can thread your fingers with his own before nodding slowly. “I like the sound of that too. So...where to?”

Two Months Later

You didn’t have a huge amount of experience when it came to dating. That was something that you had already been well aware of upon moving to New Seoul and something that had been made abundantly clear to you in the last four years. You’d never dated anyone back on Earth, too busy studying to try and pass your exams to even notice if anyone had potentially been interested in you.

Learning to date here had been interesting as a result. Despite the fact that you’d been well aware of how others dated back on Earth, even if you hadn’t been part of it, you’d quickly discovered that dating was very different here.

For starters, people were far more sexually liberated. Which was odd, because you’d had thought that the backwater of Earth would be. But while you’d entered into the world of sex thanks to Taehyung, who you’d not been surprised about at all given where he came from, it had surprised you to discover that New Koreans were actively having sex.

Which meant that you’d been on a few dates with people only to discover that sex on the first date was very much normal here. Hell, sex before the first date. It made you feel like a prude because on Earth it just...wasn’t done.

People avoided sex because there was always the risk of a baby. And babies were not wanted on Earth, for many reasons.

But here, the population could withstand any number of children. New Korea had only just over a billion people on the entire planet, despite being founded centuries ago. It was something that you’d only really just gotten used to.

Other strange things were that people actually went out on proper dates. Like...to other places and would spend money on things. From what you knew, a date on Earth was probably just a virt-real session in a cheap arcade in some back alley. Here though, they were whole day experiences.

Getting used to that had been a learning experience, but you soon discovered that experience hadn’t prepared you in the slightest for dating someone like Jung Hoseok.

His level of wealth was something you couldn’t even begin to compare, and his own friends must be of a similar enough status because he kept making accidental mistakes with you. Your first date had been a prime example of that.

Brushing your hands down the dress you’d bought, you admired it once more in the mirror of your bedroom. It was a pretty design, one of those timeless classics that had existed for centuries now with the body tight on your waist before gently flowing out around your waist. It stopped above your knees while the top of the dress was cut into an elegant shape, thick straps over your shoulders that became slim points, connecting to the bodice and the material cut into a shape that enhanced the shape of your breasts.

Taehyung had agreed that it was the perfect shape for a first date, especially given that Hoseok had told you that he was taking you somewhere that had a dress code. Your feet were currently inside some dainty flat shoes with black ribbon that criss crossed up your calves.

The dress was particularly nice because it was made of a special material that allowed it’s wearer to change the colour or pattern at will. A useless dress for you before, but now you got to see colour in its full glory and you wanted to revel in that.

You’d designed to go for a simple black today but Taehyung had encouraged you to make the flowing ends sparkle like the night sky, the tiny glittering specks becoming more sparse the higher up the dress they went.

It made a beautiful effect and you’d thanked Taehyung profusely.

Hoseok had apparently really liked it as well when you met up an hour later. You’d met up at a designated spot in the centre of New Seoul, the neon lights surrounding you making your dress shimmer in a beautiful array of colour that you’d never even seen before that had you feeling like the walking embodiment of a galaxy. His eyes had lit up when he’d met you, his own body attired in a classic black button up with matching black slacks.

It had taken a lot to keep your jaw closed at first, eyes almost bulging at the sight of how unbelievably attractive he’d looked. You’d been shy after that, convinced that fate had it wrong and that there was no way he was your soulmate.

Hoseok had been a little awkward as well, his movements almost stiff while his speech had been a little stilted. That hadn’t stopped him from complimenting you though, his smile genuine and eyes warm as he’d looked you over repeatedly.

“You look beautiful. The dress is...I’d say it’s possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve seen but then I’m looking at you so…” That had made you snort with laughter, the sound not attractive but you’d been unable to stop yourself as your hand had moved to cover your mouth.

“Wow...use that line on all the ladies Mr Jung?” His cheeks had flushed red at that, embarrassment making him look elsewhere while his fingers had played with each other in the classic body language of uncertainty. It had made you feel bad, so you’d reached out to him and grasped one of his hands carefully, pleased when he’d instantly shifted to thread his fingers with yours.

“So where are we going?” Had been your next words to him, the gentle smile on your face trying to let him know that you weren’t trying to make him feel bad or stupid. He’d given you a relieved expression in response and a small part of you had marvelled at the fact that already you could read him so well despite the little amount of time you’d spent together.

Hoseok had led you through the streets then, happily pointing out various stores or bars that he’d been to while at university and regaling you with stories of incidents that had happened. One clothing store had been the unfortunate recipient of Hoseok and his best friend, Jaebum, when they’d been drunk after a night out.

Apparently he was now banned from it, something that had caused him much embarrassment. A throwaway comment had let you know that it hadn’t pleased his parents either, but he’d danced away from that topic quickly.

You’d reciprocated his stories with the few you had of your own. The street where Taehyung had run the whole length stark naked after getting absolutely wasted on Mei Long, an infamous spirit with a high alcohol content made using native plants on Yangzhou. It’s name came from ancient China on Earth and meant sleeping dragon.

Needless to say, you’d discovered why when Taehyung had ripped his clothes free and proclaimed himself to be a spirit of the universe who no one could hold back. It had taken you, Chaeyoung and one of his girlfriend’s at the time, Jisoo, ten minutes to chase after him and finally get him back into his clothes.

Thankfully, this had been at three in the morning and there’d been no one in that particular area which meant there had been around to call the police on him.

Hoseok had laughed hysterically at that, telling you that he definitely wanted to meet Taehyung properly and get a look at the guy who’d decided to drink a whole bottle of Mei Long. You’d given him a look, asking him if he’d ever done that before.

He’d become very innocent looking after that, but you’d been unable to query him given that you’d apparently arrived at your destination. The building was huge, one of the skyscrapers that dotted the very centre of New Seoul and you stared up at it.

“This is the biggest building on the entirety of New Korea.” Hoseok said with a smile, leading you inside and taking you to the elevator. It opened immediately with a soft ding, the holographic numbers above not telling you how many floors there were.

He input a number into the datapad beside the doors and you watched as the numbers zoomed past, a funny feeling in your stomach as it moved upwards at an incredible speed. On floor 120, it finally stopped and you both walked out to find a beautiful restaurant that had a classic feel to it.

There were no holograms here, no neon or anything. Just subtle lighting that was almost yellow in colour, giving everything a look that made it all feel old somehow. It also felt very romantic, with the tables far apart from each other and each table having a traditional wax candle burning away in the centre.

You’re so busy taking in everything that you don’t even notice when Hoseok gives his name to the woman dressed in an elegant uniform. It’s only when you’re being led to a table by the windows that you realise this is where your date is going to be.

But you can’t find it in yourself to say anything as you take in the jaw dropping sight of New Seoul before you. The windows are floor to ceiling and stretch from wall to wall on both sides of the restaurant, only the bar, kitchen and entrance exempt. New Seoul glitters and shines in the night, stretching out far below you and you’re almost pressed to the window in amazement at it.

Part of you wonders if this is what Busan looked like when you lived there, but then you realise that it’s so much better than that. As the tallest building, the restaurant towers above everything else and let’s you get the perfect glimpse of your adopted city. The neon signs you’d become so familiar with gleam brightly in the darkness and you admire the way everything looks so beautiful despite all the technology littering it.

Even at this late hour, the buildings still look clean and simple while the city itself looks almost elegant. It’s so unlike anything on Earth and you smile softly to yourself, a warm feeling spreading in your chest as you realise that you truly do consider this place to be home now.

The city turns abruptly into darkness far in the distance and you know that’s because it’s the very edge of New Seoul, the mountain range of Namsan rising into the sky behind it. It had been named by the founders of New Seoul after the mountain in Old Seoul and you thought it was rather fitting that it still towered over everything centuries later.

“Wow, it’s incredible.” You whisper softly, unaware that the waitress has left and that you’re alone again with Hoseok. He’s just watching you quietly though, chin in his hand and a gentle smile on his face as he does so. It’s only when you shift back to look at him that he sits up, the softness in his eyes vanishing until you only think it’s the reflection of the city lights in them.

“Yeah, it looks a lot better in colour.” He admits, grinning shyly and rubbing at the back of his neck. Reaching for the menu that had been placed in front of you, and marvelling for a moment over the soft feel of real paper, you scan over the options with narrowed eyes.

“Do you come here often?” You ask, keeping the conversation going while you try to figure out what some of the food was. It didn’t have explanations on it bizarrely, nor did it have how much anything cost. Half of the names made absolutely no sense to you and you chewed on your lip, probably ruining your lipstick but uncaring.

Hoseok looks up at you awkwardly, shrugging with one shoulder. “I’ve been here a few times. My parents made me come when I was younger. It’s one of the best restaurants on New Korea and I knew the view was amazing so...I wanted to share it with you. So we could both see it in colour for the first time.”

The sentiment behind his desire is sweet and you go warm all over at it, fingers playing with the white cloth napkin that was placed beside an elegant glass. At the same time though, the fact that he’s brought you to one of the best restaurants makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

Combined with the lack of prices on the menu, you had a feeling that this place was probably going to wipe a big chunk out of your savings. The common courtesy for men on New Korea was to pay for the dinner still, an outdated belief that was still somehow prevalent in a society that was remarkably forward with dating.

You would be insisting that Hoseok split the bill of course. It simply didn’t do for you to accept him to pay for it all.

Though you would at least like help on what to order. Other than that, you couldn’t fault him for picking what had to be one of the most stunning sights on the planet to witness, because the view truly was incredible. And you had to remember that he did come from money, so it probably hadn’t entered his head.

It was something you could work on.

After that, you’d admitted to not knowing what the food was and had been instructed by Hoseok on what everything on the menu actually was. Apparently this was all traditional New Korean food, which was amusing to you because most of it didn’t really represent the food you’d grown up with in Old Korea, aka the real traditional Korean food.

A lot of the classic meals here had been adapted from old recipes to incorporate native plants and animal species here or had changed throughout the centuries to accommodate spices and foods brought in from other planets. The results meant that you barely recognised them and when your order of what was the New Korean equivalent of kimchi jjigae arrived, you’d been bemused to discover that it was nothing like what you were used to.

“This is not kimchi jjigae,” You said with laughter, sipping at the soup anyway and enjoying the taste despite that. It was sweet, incredibly sweet to the point that you were almost cringing with only the slightest hint of spice to it. “Where’s the spice?”

Picking up a piece of kimchi between your chopsticks, you ate it carefully and hummed in contemplation. Whatever this vegetable was, it wasn’t what you were used to and you carefully ate another piece.

Hoseok watched you with a laugh, shaking his head and grinning. “It’s been a few centuries, apparently recipes change. Either that or this place is just too fancy. You know what it’s like with restaurants like this.”

He’d said it so airily, so completely unaware that you haven't grown up anything like him. But the innocence with which he says it makes it hard to feel annoyed at him, not when you can tell that he genuinely doesn’t mean anything mean or rude by it.

“Not really. I don’t think they have restaurants like this on Earth. Or if they do, they weren’t in Busan and I could have never gone there.” That stuns him into silence, his jaw audibly clicking shut while red appears once more on his cheeks. You get the impression that Hoseok is mentally slapping himself and laughed, letting him know that you’re not really bothered.

That leads on to a whole discussion about Earth, with Hoseok peppering you with questions about what it was like growing up there and what Earth was actually like. It was hard to describe somewhere so completely destitute and poor to someone who came from a place that was as rich and powerful as New Korea, but you tried for him.

You could tell that he was genuinely interested in your home planet; not only because of his own interest in the homeworld of humanity but because it was where you had come from. He asked you unique questions that you would have never thought of and the time had quickly passed as you had answered him, firing questions back to him about growing up here.

It was during this conversation that you found out that Hoseok had mostly grown up in New Seoul though his parents had often taken him to other cities for months at a time. You got the impression he resented this but despite the subtle querying, he didn’t take the bait and discuss it further.

All you knew was that neither of you had grandparents; your own dying when you’d been a child from what was deemed old age on Earth while Hoseok’s had apparently died before he’d even been born. You presumed from that then that his parents were on the older side, which you found interesting given their position in New Korean society.

Finally though, it was time for the bill and you were surprised to find out that three hours had passed by. You’d eaten all the kimchi jjigae, despite the laughter about how different it was to what you were expecting, and had fully enjoyed the dessert that had followed it.

The waitress placed the bill on the table, the paper printed carefully with the meals and drinks that you’d both ordered and eaten throughout the evening. It was a novel concept to see paper being used so liberally here and you took it from Hoseok, ignoring his protest.

“I want to pay for half. That’s how we do it on Earth and I know that it’s different here but I-” You stop suddenly, eyes widening as you read the total at the bottom. It’s so high that your brain can’t even compute it for a few seconds and you simply gawp, blinking before frowning. “Is this right?”

Hoseok takes the receipt from you and scans over it, nodding slowly before looking at you. Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed, hands playing with the hem of your dress as you carefully avoid his gaze.

“Yes? It’s right? I mean...is there something wrong? I can’t see anything? And I’m okay sharing the bill, it’s not what I’m used to but I want to make you comfortable.” You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself to stop those words coming out of your mouth, because now you’re going to have to embarrass yourself even more.

For a minute, you struggle to find the words to tell him, shame at your own situation and a sudden hatred of where and how you’d grown up taking over. You’d spent years studying to get here and then years working here when you had, yet you still weren’t good enough. Especially not for him, not for your soulmate.

“Hoseok...I’m really sorry. I...I can’t afford this.” The words are whispered, barely audible and he frowns for a moment. You wonder if he’s not heard you, humiliation rising at having to say it for a second time before suddenly his eyes widen, jaw dropping.

“Oh fuck.” He curses loudly, attracting shocked looks from other patrons. Shoulders hunching, you try to make yourself even smaller to avoid their gazes but it’s Hoseok’s you want to escape from most of all. The way his face crumples into dismay and then pity makes you want to throw yourself out of the damn window.

“Shit. I’m so sorry. I just...I forgot and I wanted to show you this place but I forgot the pricing and-” He’s about to continue, prostrating himself to you from the other side of the table and you can hear the genuine apology in his voice. Not to mention his worry about making a bad impression.

Holding up a hand, you give him a slightly strained smile and sigh deeply. “It’s okay. I...the food was great, the view was amazing and I really enjoyed it. I just...do you mind paying? I’m really sorry.”

“Please don’t say sorry, this was my mistake. My bad. I’m so stupid, oh my god. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. Fuck.” He lets out a groan, running his hands through his artfully done hair before tugging on the strands a little. It makes him look even more attractive and you hum in amusement at that, despite the little bubble of negativity you’re feeling.

“It’s okay. Honestly. We’ll just...learn from this right? That’s what we’re doing...learning.”

He’d spent the rest of that night apologising profusely, his cheeks bright red in shame and a look of sadness on his face as he chastised for his mistake.

Hoseok had already admitted to you before then that he’d never even met anyone from Earth, despite his obsession when younger. As such, he hadn’t quite realised just how poor people from there were. After that date, you’d carefully given him more cultural lessons about Earth from someone who had actually lived there.

You had money here, yes. But you didn’t have the kind of money required to sustain those levels of dating.

Thankfully, he’d proven to be a quick learner and had made sure to propose dates that were a little more amenable. Whole days spent running around virt-real landscapes that took you both away to planets you hadn’t even thought of or engaged in full story led experiences. A day at the closest amusement park, the rides there engineered to almost defy the laws of physics. Another day at a conservation park, full of wild animals that were being carefully raised or nurtured back to health.

Some of them had been native to New Korea whereas others had been bred here specifically to repopulate other planets wildlife species. You had both learnt that apparently there were many attempts being made across the galaxy to bring back once extinct Earth wildlife with the eventual hope of repopulating the homeworld of humanity with the animals they’d once killed off.

You’d been a little dubious of the whole idea. People had already messed everything up once and Earth was polluted enough just for humans. The idea of putting all these innocent animals back there to potentially just suffer and die wasn’t good for you, but you appreciated the attempts in the hope of a future.

What had maybe surprised both of you though, had been just how well you got on with each other. You could tell that Hoseok had remained a little dubious about the whole soulmate thing and you hadn’t pushed him on it either. But even you were finding it a little strange just how well you both were interacting with each other.

The two of you came from wildly different backgrounds and completely different planets. Neither of you had watched the same things growing up, hadn’t read the same things or done the same activities. And yet you’d both discovered so many commonalities already.

Your music tastes didn’t quite align with each other, but they were complementary enough that neither of you complained when you heard something playing that the other loved. Your film tastes aligned perfectly though and you’d both spent more than a few evenings at the retro cinema a few blocks away from the university.

Cinemas were a novel thing nowadays, given the galaxy’s penchant for things immediately. They were mostly just for those who wanted to pretend they were living a few centuries ago when a cinema was the only place you could watch something new. They’d also gained a new life as social places to meet up and hang out with friends and family.

Hoseok and you had watched so many films, from those made right here in New Korea to those from all reaches of the galaxy. They even showed the Ancient Classics from Earth, the home of film.

The cinema has that familiar subtle lighting that makes it feel warm and welcoming while the scent of fresh popcorn, an old Earth staple for this kind of event apparently, flavouring the air. Traditional style posters were hung everywhere, advertising what films were going to be shown in the upcoming weeks and you hummed as you looked over them, sipping on your drink as you waited for Hoseok to come back from the bathroom.

The two of you had been dating for a month now and you were surprised at how relaxed and comfortable you felt with him already. It reminded you almost of your friendship with Taehyung, but far more intense.

You suspected that Hoseok reciprocated the feelings as well, given that the two of you had been going on ‘dates’ or just enjoying time together at least once every two days. Almost like neither of you liked going longer than that without seeing each other.

By this point, he’d become well acquainted with Taehyung, visiting your apartment frequently. The two of you had done everything from watch entertainment to simply sitting together and reading and even studying for your classes. It felt nice, just to be near him. Relaxing almost.

Unsurprisingly, it had been Hoseok who had introduced you to cinemas. They didn’t have them on Earth anymore, which he’d been surprised about. Though you’d pointed out that even if they did have them, no one could afford to go to one anyway. Or even have time.

But apparently he loved them and was a huge aficionado of the old films from Earth. He’d been surprised to discover you hadn’t really seen any, only really watching the newer stuff that had been released. Which had led to him taking you to this specific cinema in New Seoul which specialised in an authentic and traditional experience.

They even had old style projectors here, which you hadn’t even known still existed. The first film he’d taken you to see had been something called Star Wars, apparently the first in a series that had been hugely popular in the 20th and 21st centuries. Given its age, it didn’t look its best and you’d both laughed over how it treated space flight and so forth but you’d surprisingly enjoyed it a lot.

As such, you’d come with him a few more times since and had watched a wide range of genres with him. Everything from something called Mamma Mia! to Alien, all of it so old that you didn’t even recognise half of the stuff you were looking at. It was like a window into another world, but you loved it and so did he.

Tonight though, you’d be watching something called Jurassic Park. Apparently it was one of the best films from Earth and featured dinosaurs. That had immediately fascinated Hoseok when you’d both read the description. You had been interested too but New Korea had nothing comparable to the dinosaurs of Earth.

“Hey, I’ll take that.” Hoseok says as he comes out of the bathroom, smiling at you brightly as he reaches for the large tin bucket full of sweet flavoured popcorn. You give him to happily, holding onto the drink in a reusable cup and take another sip before gesturing to him as you both walk to the correct screen.

He leans forward and you carefully press the cup to his lips, tilting it just enough for him to drink before taking it back once he’s had enough. The screen is dark when you go in, the generic lighting letting you find your seats in the small room and you listen in happiness at the gentle chatter of the people around you.

You’d been surprised to find that these screenings were very popular here and it never failed to amuse you the fascination people still held for Earth. Particularly given their contempt for it as well.

Hoseok shifts in his seat, slumping even further and you smile at him. This cinema apparently wasn’t in the actual traditional style with individual seats that were numbered. Instead, it had opted to go for a more casual approach that appealed more to the citizens of New Seoul, it’s one concession to modern day preferences.

Each screen has multiple different kinds of seats available, with some long couches allowing up to four people on them or alternatively, smaller armchairs for those going alone. You always booked tickets for two seater couch, enjoying how comfortable it was and how you could relax completely in your seat to enjoy the film.

It also helped that it let you get a little bit closer to Hoseok, his warmth exceptionally comfortable and soothing to you. You’d even fallen asleep once against him, walking up to his gentle prodding in an hour later and having to steadfastly ignore his amused expression.

Unfortunately, you’d drooled all over his shoulder. He’d thought it was cute, you’d been mortified.

Today though, he simply held up an arm and gave you a questioning look. Smiling, you placed the cup into the inbuilt cup holder on the arm of the couch before shuffling over, cuddling into his side and enjoying the way his arm felt on your shoulder while he felt so solid against your side.

You both chat for a few minutes, your voices quiet and low as you discuss how your day had gone before the lights dimmed and the screen came to life. Almost immediately you both quietened down, eyes glued to the screen as it went through the usual advertisements for brands and films.

And then the film began.

Neither of you talked at all throughout it all, both of you completely enraptured in the film that had been released over a thousand years ago. You were in complete awe over the storyline and the magnificent dinosaurs, squeezing Hoseok tightly in fear at the scene with the Tyrannosaurus Rex and the car before pushing your head into his shoulder with the Velociraptors in the kitchen.

It was all over far too soon, with the soaring music that filled your chest signifying the end along with the credits that rolled of people who had long since died. Looking at Hoseok, you grinned at his awed expression, taking a handful of the remaining popcorn and stuffing it into your mouth before getting up.

You both stretched with a groan before exiting, placing the popcorn tin and cup into the relevant recycle bins before quietly heading into the bathrooms. Hoseok was waiting for you outside and he took hold of your hand, holding on tightly as you both exited the cinema and began to chatter about the film you’d both watched.

It had become a tradition quietly to go for a meal afterwards and talk all about what you’d just seen; from analysing the storyline to discussing the effects and acting. Some of the films you’d watched had been truly atrocious, but you got the feeling that what you’d just seen was special.

Sure enough, you’re both sat in a Valerian restaurant half an hour later, the pasta that had been brought with Valerian’s from old Italy mixed with the native spices and flavours from their planet being eaten without even properly appreciating what you were eating.

“Was it just me, or did the dinosaurs still look really good? I mean...the film’s over a thousand years old but it didn’t look...crap?” Hoseok says, wonder in his eyes as he talks and you nod in agreement.

“I did some quick reading beforehand and apparently they used physical props for like the T-Rex, so that was actually real. Maybe that’s why it looked like that? I mean, the dinosaurs at the very start looked pretty awful.” He nods and hums, tapping his finger against his chin before eating some more.

“Makes sense I guess. Though they used physical props in Star Wars and that still looked absolutely shit. Maybe it’s the lighting they used? It was dark often and you can hide a lot in darkness.”

Shrugging, you took a deep drink of Valerian wine, enjoying the subtle fruity taste of the alcohol before swallowing it. “I really liked it though. I think that’s been my favourite so far.”

Hoseok grinned broadly, happiness radiating from him and you felt a blossoming warmth in your own chest at his expression. Gripping your fork a little tighter, you watched as he nodded, eyes almost sparkling and you wondered if your own expression looked like his.

“Definitely. I can see why it’s been rated so high for so long. Apparently there’s sequels.” He raises a brow at you, the question in both his tone and face and you grin immediately.

“If we finish this quickly...do you want to go watch one at mine?” The question was already defunct as Hoseok was nodding immediately and you laughed loudly, loving how eager he was to spend more time with you.

Not that you were complaining of course…

Today, Hoseok had asked to meet you outside of your apartment in the early hours of the morning. You’d do so with a gentle whine, heart racing a little at the sight of the little smile on his face as it hovered above your PED. He’d promised that it would be worth it though.

And the sight of the silver air car coming to a quiet landing in front of you told you that it probably was. Brow rising, you watch as the passenger side door opens and Hoseok grins at you from the other side. Carefully, you climb in next to him and sit down, pressing the button where the safety harness engages and the door closes.

The interior of the air car is possibly the nicest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life and it smells clean and fresh. That’s not surprising, given one of the things you’ve learnt about Hoseok is that he’s pretty sensitive about smells and only likes light fragrances. Apparently he really liked the fruit scent that you’d taken to using here on New Seoul, a fruit called peach that you’d never heard of before.

But despite all of that, you can tell that this air car costs money. They’re common here in New Korea, less common than on Earth though but these air cars are made to the highest galactic standards. They produce almost no pollution and have high safety standards. A law was passed over a century ago that required all air cars to be less than four years old to reduce accidents.

Unlike Earth, where you knew of people with two hundred year old air cars that occasionally stopped working.

As a result though, air cars weren’t the cheapest form of transportation and most people took the excellent public transportation which connected every city, town and village on the planet together.

“I should’ve known you had an air car.” Smiling slightly, you reach out and run your fingers along the black dashboard. It’s sleek and beautiful, soft to your touch but you know if there was an accident that it would immediately swell with life saving foam.

“Oh yeah? Why?” Hoseok’s question is genuine, you can hear the actual curiosity in it and you just stare at him dryly until his mouth drops in realisation. Seeing that gentle flush of pink on his cheeks, you turn away and shake your head slightly in amusement.

“Anyway, where are we going that requires this?” He’d only ever taken you places using the public transportation before, so going somewhere privately intrigued you.

“We’re going to Sejong. I thought you might like it.” The statement is so casual that you almost miss it at first until it finally registers in your head. Then you look at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Sejong? You’re taking me to Sejong? Seriously? Why?” That gets a confused look from him, almost affronted and you want to laugh at how genuinely baffled he looks by your suddenly accusatory tone. He takes a moment to formulate a response, hand reaching out to press confirm on the begin button on the journey map holo and you can’t help the small ‘ooh’ of pleasure as the air car rises silently and smoothly.

“Because my family has an estate there, on the beach. And...well I always really hated it when I was younger and I couldn’t see what it all looked like because everyone always talks about Sejong being beautiful. But it just looked like everywhere else to me. So...I want to see it, and I want you to see it too. You brought colour into my life...it’s only fair that I show you one of the most beautiful sights in New Korea.”

It wasn’t a hugely romantic statement that he’d just said. People might even view it as a little selfish, using you as an excuse to go on an excursion to his family’s estate in one of the most affluent areas in the entirety of New Korea. But the breathlessness that had taken over your chest and the way your heart fluttered told you that you thought it was the romantic thing you’d ever heard.

He wanted to go see what was considered to be one of the natural wonders of New Korea in its full colour glory...and he wanted to go with you. The woman who claimed to be his soulmate and whom he didn’t quite believe but didn’t quite not believe either.

Your stomach felt a little funny.

“Okay...I mean...yeah. I’d love to.” It was the only thing you could say really. You wouldn’t have turned down the offer anyway, but the fact it was with him made it all the better. The last two months had made your crush on Hoseok grow bigger, the feelings swirling inside you snowballing faster and faster until you weren’t entirely sure what you felt anymore.

Being around him was the most exciting thing in the galaxy to you but it was also one of the most calming and relaxing. He made you smile with his sweet attempts at dating and conversation, his uncertainty with how to act endearing, and made you laugh with his good humour. But he also made you feel safe in his presence, like you could tell him all of your problems and he’d be a vault for you or fall asleep in his presence and he’d protect you.

You’d wondered whether the whole soulmate thing really was real sometimes after finally meeting him, or if you’d just projected hard. It was complicated to comprehend, but you genuinely believed in it. You weren’t sure what he thought, but you’d never met someone you just felt so...right with before.

And so quickly.

After only two months you already felt like you’d been friends for a long time while the romance between you both made your stomach fizz sometimes. It was a strange mixture of comfort with excitement.

Glancing over at him, you realise that he’s already looking at you and you pause in surprise. There’s a moment of hesitation from you before he smiles softly, reaching out across the gap that separates your seats and grasps your hand gently. With a movement that’s become practiced over the months, his hands shift until he can lace your fingers together, squeezing tightly for a moment.

“So how big is this estate? The very fact that you can use the word estate is mind boggling to me. The fact it implies you have more than one is even more so.” That gets a laugh from Hoseok now, his head rocking back to rest against the soft headrest behind him.

“It’s...of a good size. And I wouldn’t go around thinking everyone here has an ‘estate’, they don’t. It’s just...my family…” He trails off awkwardly and you nod, acknowledging that with a quiet sigh. Hoseok had proven to be rather reticent about his family and you’d been a little insulted at first, wondering if maybe he didn’t think you’d be good enough with your incredibly low birth status.

But you’d soon realised that it was actually because he wasn’t really sure how to go about it. He’d never actually said that out loud, but the way he danced around conversations that veered too close to his family told you everything. You’d even noticed that he did it around his own friends, whom he’d introduced you to last month.

Quickly though, you’d decided not to push him on it. He would tell you all about it when he wanted to and you didn’t want him to feel pressured or anything. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel pressured, especially when he didn’t pressure you on anything. You were a little curious though as his family dynamics were something you couldn’t even comprehend really.

“It’s okay. So...we’re going to the sea?” You grin at him, causing him to smile back and the happiness in his eyes makes you feel content. Nodding at you, he leans back and lets out a deep sigh.

“Yeah. I used to go to the Sejong estate when I was younger a lot. It’s one of my favourite places in this world. And I’m aware of my privilege when I say that, but I want you to see it too. You’ll love it, I’m sure.” That has you wiggling in your seat in excitement. You’d seen pictures of Sejong throughout your years here in New Seoul but they’d all been in black and white obviously.

You hadn’t looked at any since being able to see in colour, so you were excited to see what Hoseok had to show you. Particularly if he loved it too.

The rest of the journey to Sejong was quiet after that, the two of you settling down with just your hands holding. You even slept for an hour or so, content in the gentle noise of Hoseok’s music playing over the speakers while he read an e-book. It felt nice to not have to find the need to talk, the contentment of simply being near each other satisfying enough.

Despite joking around with Hoseok beforehand, you really were excited to see Sejong and experience it with him. A small coastal town on the equator of New Korea, it had been named after the ancient Korean King Sejong, the creator of the Korean alphabet, hangul.

Sejong had originally been founded by the planet’s richest inhabitants four centuries ago, bestowing the name of the famed king upon it. It was considered to be one of the most beautiful places on the whole planet and was populated with the sprawling estates of the oldest and most influential families.

Hoseok had also informed you that it did have a normal, fully working town as well with a population of people who simply lived their lives like any other person. The original founders of the town had built affordable housing for everyone and special laws had been passed to ensure that the price of the buildings never rose. Even now, centuries later, houses still had to be sold at the price that had been specified all that time ago.

It had helped to encourage more growth in the town and a diversity of people from all walks of life, as all new buildings had the same regulations. The proximity to the planet’s richest people made it a popular place for people to live and visit but it had industry had been banned in the area to protect it.

A small beep alerted you both to the fact that the air car was about to land and you sat up, sad that Hoseok’s air car didn’t have windows in it. They were considered a structural safety hazard as there hadn’t been a glass invented that was strong enough to protect an impact that an air car could have in an accident so they just didn’t have them.

Glancing at you, Hoseok grinned before pressing a button once the car came to a gentle halt, the soft sound of the landing gears engaging as they touched the ground. Both doors hissed open and you bounded out, excitedly looking around and not even noticing when Hoseok came up behind you.

His arms wrapped around your waist before he lay his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck briefly before taking in the sight as well.

An obscenely beautiful fountain made of what you thought was some material like marble took up most of the entrance courtyard, sprays of water shimmering like diamonds as they fell elegantly from a beautifully carved dragon and tiger that were intertwined. The black stone was engraved with hangul and you read it over, noting that they were names.

“It’s all the members of my family. Somehow it became a tradition to engrave the names of family onto the fountain throughout the centuries so...it’s like a living family tree.” The very notion that he could not only trace his family back so far but actually had a fountain with their names on it blew your mind.

“Hoseok...this is...I don’t even know the name of my great-grandmother.” It made you feel almost...ashamed to admit that to him. But while you knew he was rich, and came from an important family, it was another thing entirely to be face to face with it. The house behind the fountain was...obscenely large. A mansion, something you thought was only an image in e-books from centuries ago.

But this was actually a mansion...two stories high and long. So many windows dotted it’s sides, gleaming in the sunlight while the two-door entrance required three steps to climb before entering the entrance canopy. The walls were a beautiful off white colour while the tiles on the roof were a burnished orange, giving it a look that you recognised from images of ancient Italy and Spain on Earth.

The difference was the style of the architecture though. It was a blend of what had once been called Asian and Western on Earth. The house itself, the windows, the colouring and the doors were all clearly inspired by the mansions and houses of old Europe and North America. But the roof itself arched in the elegant lines of old Korea, reminding you so much of the ancient palaces and temples that still dotted the landscape of your home country.

Hoseok sighs gently before kissing your temple, resting his lips there for a moment before pulling away and taking your hand once more. “I’ll give you a tour of the house later...but for now...I want to take you to the beach. And the ocean. I just...please don’t stress yourself about this place. I like to think you know me well enough now to know that I don’t really care about stuff like this. I just want to show you something that’ll make you smile.”

Watching him quietly for a moment, you just smile a little to yourself before letting yourself be led down a gravelled path that was surrounded by vibrant green hedges that bloomed with a whole array of pretty flowers. You presumed that these were likely native to the planet but you couldn’t be sure.

Either way, they were beautiful and smelled just as delightful too. Pausing for a moment, you leant forward to smell one of them and hummed lightly. It smelled like oranges bizarrely, and you frowned in confusion at it.

“Weird right? It’s a flower that smells like a fruit. And what’s even stranger is that the scent changes according to the season. Mom loves it though so she made them put these in when I was younger. Now the whole place smells like them but I don’t mind.” With a little tug, he continues leading you through until he reaches a tall, white stone wall that rises high above you both.

It looks to go for a distance in both directions and you presume it marks the boundaries of the estate itself. The gate Hoseok opens doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen in person before. It looks to be in a traditional iron gate, the metal intricately curled into patterns while the black colour stands out starkly. You like it though, strangely.

“I thought the sea was like...right here from what you were saying.” You say to Hoseok lightly, following him carefully through the small trail that looks to have been worn into the tall grass over years of use. It must be very old, because you can’t imagine many people being here all that often.

“Well...I mean it technically is. It’s just over this little rise. Apparently this was here when Sejong was founded and it makes like...a natural sea wall to prevent any tsunamis. Not that there’s ever been one but...I guess it’s nice to know it’s there. And then we have the estate boundary wall as a defence as well. Though I think that was more to keep prying eyes away. But anyway, I digress. The sea is right here, and you can see it perfectly from my bedroom in the house.” That gets a laugh from you and you push at his side gently, humming in amusement as he lets out a tiny wail and overdramatically pretends to fall.

“I lived near the ocean too on Earth but I couldn’t see it. Not that I’d ever want to. It wasn’t anything interesting to look at. And I wish I could say that was just because of being colour blind but you know...dead ocean and everything.” You say it lightly but Hoseok looks back at you with slight concern.

Even though he knew a lot about Earth thanks to all his self-studying growing up, you knew that he’d been learning a lot from what you’d been telling him. A lot of it had been shattering that idealised image he’d had but at the same time, it had just increased his concern for you as well.

You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that he felt a lot of shame at the vastly different ways you’d both grown up. But you didn’t want that. Neither of you could have changed your situation back then and you wanted to just focus on the here and now. You’d made it away from there, you were where you’d always dreamed of being and now...now you had your soulmate too.

Finally, the two of you reach the top of the ridge and both pause. Partially, it’s because you’re both a tiny bit out of breath from the small climb but mostly it’s because you’re stunned by what you see.

Carefully moving down, you take off your shoes once the coarse grass meets the fine sand. Moving onto it barefoot, you look down and smile as you feel it squish between your toes, moving beneath your feet and making it a little harder to stand. It feels so soft and warm, so unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

Crouching down, you run your fingers through it and smile as it leaves behind trails, a few grains rushing to fill the gaps. Taking a handful, you hold it up and watch as the perfectly white sand slips between your fingers, falling to the ground gracefully in the gentle breeze of the wind.

You’re so enamoured with the sand that you don’t realise Hoseok is crouching next to you too, just watching you with a fascinated look. It’s only when he pushes some sand over to you, covering your hand that you look at him.

“I thought you said you lived by the ocean?” Nodding, you look at your hand as you lift it up to your face, noting how it seems to stick to you. “So why do I get the feeling you’ve never seen sand?”

“Because I haven’t. The sea is dead on Earth. No one goes to a beach anymore unless you want to risk getting something. And even then, most of the sand beaches are gone. This...this is...beautiful.” Looking up, you take in the astonishing sight before you.

The white sand extends out around a hundred metres before it meets the ocean, the waves lapping against the shore lightly. White foam bubbles at the lip of each wave, extending out as it slides along the sand before sinking back out and awaiting the next wave.

Jogging forward, you note that it’s not as blue as you’d expected. Or at least, not as blue as you’d seen in the photos that you’d looked at over the last two months. The sea closest to the shore is crystal clear with the slightest hint of an almost green shimmer to it, letting you see directly to the shells, stones and driftwood that dot the ocean floor.

Moving further away, it deepens into an exquisite green that’s so light and so unique. It reminds you of the colour ‘seafoam’ that you’d looked up on the colour charts when you’d gone home the first day after properly meeting Hoseok. You’re not sure you’d ever be able to replicate the colour here.

This astonishingly beautiful green slowly turns into a crystal aquamarine as it gets farther out, deepening until the horizon is a rich and luscious navy against the clear and clean blue of the sky. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen anything so...magnificent.

The ocean here isn’t a stretch of land though, and you note with awe that it’s more like a bay. White sand circles around in a wide arch and you take in the sight of the mountains that thrust proudly towards the heavens in either direction. The right side of the bay is heavily forested in luscious green, as if it has a living coat made of emerald leaves that breath in time to the wind.

On the left hand side, the mountains are coated in the same forests, but this side doesn’t approach the ocean gently like the other. Instead, it meets the elegant sea in a crash of jagged cliff sides, their faces bone white as they push back against the ever looming waves.

Gazing around everything in wide eyed wonder, you turn and look at Hoseok. You’re slightly pleased to see that he’s also looking everywhere with the same awed look as you, finally catching your eye and giving you a smile that slowly turns into a grin.

“Wow. I knew it was beautiful here, it was beautiful even in black and white but this...this is…” He trails off, unsure of what to say and you find yourself nodding in agreement with him. It was easy to see why this was considered one of the natural wonders of New Korea and it boggled your mind even more to know that his family had a whole estate right here.

The bay was big enough that it didn’t take up a huge amount of space in reality, but it still blew your mind. And you knew that unlike the oceans of your homeworld, this ocean would be in pristine condition because of the strict environmental laws in place.

It was why you couldn’t resist running forward to the water, shrieking with laughter as warm seawater splashed your feet. The very fact that you could do this without any words was amazing but you didn’t pay attention to that, just looking at Hoseok with a bright grin.

“It’s warm! Come here!” You gestured to him but he shook his head, laughing in response as he pushed his black hair away from his forehead.

“I have my clothes on. I don’t want to get them wet.” He said lightly, ignoring the fact that your own leggings were now soaked around your calves as you kicked around in joy. But you pouted at him, sticking your lower lip out far and giving him the biggest puppy eyes you could possibly do.

And you literally saw the moment he gave in. The moment when his resolve died in him. It was astonishingly fast but soon enough he was kicking off his own shoes, placing them next to yours where he’d brought them after you’d taken them off before coming over to you.

He hesitates for a moment at the water’s edge and you grin, bending over and spraying him with water that you throw upwards. The yelp he lets out makes you laugh even harder, but not as much as you do when he does it straight back to you.

That starts a whole water fight between the two of you, throwing water that glitters in the sunlight at each other until you’re both drenched and tired. Heaving a breath, you let out a breathy laugh as Hoseok moves over to you, the water up to his stomach now.

He cups your face in his hands, smiling down before kissing you quickly. “So...how do you like the sea?”

Twisting your lips, you think for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. Pushing up on your tiptoes, you kiss him once more and enjoy the way your stomach almost buzzes in content delight at the sensation of his lips against yours.

“Amazing. I could live here.” You say once you pull away, admiring the way his sun makes his skin almost glow golden from where it reflects against the water on him. His hair is plastered to his head, the strands an inky black and you reach up to gently move them away.

“I’m glad you like it.” He whispers and then he’s kissing you again. Only this time, he reaches down and grasps the back of your thighs, encouraging you to jump. Even if you weren’t stronger than him because of your Earth heritage, the water adds a buoyancy that allows you to feel lighter than ever. Squeezing your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his neck and simply enjoy the sensation of making out with him in this beautiful place, the water warm against you while the sun beats hotly onto you both and the gently crashing of the waves make the most perfect soundtrack.

It’s something you never could have even imagined back on Earth and the thought makes you grip him a little harder, not wanting to let go of him in case this all just turned out to be a dream that would break your heart. He doesn’t complain, just lets out a quiet groan into your mouth and squeezes your thighs a little harder.

Hoseok has been good for the last two months. Despite the common prevalance of sex in dating here, he’s understood the differences between you both more than you thought he would. Your shyness around sex with new people was still there and you hadn’t liked the idea of jumping into that with him.

Especially given you were confident he was most definitely your soulmate. You didn’t want that fact to pressure you into something, no matter who he was. What you’d wanted to do was get to know more of him and his personality before any of that and let him do the same for you.

And so you had. He hadn’t complained or even tried to insinuate it, not after you’d told him the differences between Earth and New Korea dating culture. Instead, he’d been respectful and told you that he’d wait until you were okay with it all.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to sometimes, even though you hadn’t felt entirely ready. He was your soulmate and you did feel a deep and intense sexual attraction towards him. Sometimes the tension between you both was so strong that you could cut it with a knife. You knew that because Taehyung had complained about it whenever Hoseok came to your apartment.

He’d pointed it out and said that every time, he had to go to one of his partners for an intense session because of how turned on he became because of the untouched attraction between you both. You’d just laughed at him at the time, but you’d also felt grateful to know that Hoseok desired you as much as you did him.

Right now though, you’d admit the ocean wasn’t the only reason you were wet, but you didn’t want to ruin the sweet and romantic moment you had going with him.

And you were glad that you didn’t, because you both spend the next ten minutes simply...enjoying each other and the tranquility of everything. The way he feels against you, the way he tastes, the way he smells and some part of you, deep down inside, relaxes. As if you’d finally, finally come home.

It all sounded silly and stupid, you knew people would laugh if you said it out loud but it’s the only way to describe how you feel around him. Home.

Finally though, you both separate and wade out of the sea, holding hands and laughing as you occasionally spray each other with kicks of water. How could anyone think soulmates aren’t real when you feel so comfortable with him so fast? As if you’d always known each other.

He hadn’t said whether he felt these same things, but he seemed to enjoy spending time with you or just talking to you so you thought he probably did. It was...nice, to know that there was someone who enjoyed everything about you.

The two of you walk a little along the beach before finally sitting down. You grimace slightly from your wet clothes and the way the sand seems to stick even more to your skin now, making Hoseok chuckle lightly before he sits a little closer to you and wraps an arm around your waist.

Slowly, you rest your head on his shoulder and inhale deeply before letting it out just as slowly. The two of you are quiet for a few minutes and you just take a moment to enjoy it all; the peace and tranquility that comes from him for you alongside the calm that nature provides in this exquisite place.

Finally though, you ask him the question that’s been festering inside you for the last month. You’re afraid of his response, but you know that you need to ask.

“Do you...do you believe in soulmates now? Do you think this is moving too fast or anything? I...I really…” You trail off, body warming in embarrassment as you wonder how on earth you’re meant to tell him your feelings. It’s only been two months. That’s far too fast to tell him that you love him, right?

“I don’t think we’re moving fast. You’re not moving fast if it feels right. You’re moving at exactly the pace you need to. And...yeah. I do. I can’t not, not after the last two months. Besides the fact that I actually get to see everything like everyone else does...the thought of not being around you physically hurts. In a way that’s never happened with anyone before. Being with you feels like-”

“Like you’re home.”

He tilts his head to look at you and you lean back, staring straight into those beautiful deep brown eyes that you’ve fallen for. There’s a moment of surprise that you’d said it, but then you recognise the acceptance of what you’ve said in his face as he nods.

“Yeah...home. It’s weird that it feels like that but I don’t think it’s weird I feel like that. If that makes sense?” Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze tightly.

“No, no it feels...good. I feel...I feel happy with you.” You get a little choked up at that, the words squeezing your throat tightly and he makes soft soothing noises. His free hand runs along your cheek, stroking gently as he presses a kiss to your nose and then your forehead.

“Hey, hey don’t get upset. We’re apparently living some super romantic ancient bond thing. Everything makes sense when you think of it that way.” That gets a snort from you and you rest your head on his shoulder again, nuzzling closer to him.

“No one will believe us. You know that right? I mean...even you didn’t really believe me at first. Taehyung is still half convinced we’re just having a ‘moment’ or something. If this was Earth then...there'd be a bit of disbelief but that would be it. But here? They’ll just think we’re lying or making up stories. Especially...especially given who you are...and who I am.”

He’s quiet for a moment, running the words through his mind and you hear the caw of birds. Glancing up, you take note of the unusual colouring of them with slight awe. Their wings were burnished gold and red, melting between each other as the sun glanced off them. You knew the name of these, it had been one of the things you remembered reading before.

The bulsajo, the Korean version of the ancient Greek phoenix. It had been named that due to the similarity of colouring and shape, with its long tail feathers helping to give the illusion of fire and warmth. It was even prettier than you’d imagined.

“Did you know that there’s a legend around the bulsajo here?” Hoseok asked softly and you looked at him, frowning slightly. “It’s not really something that would get noted down, just a legend here in Sejong. They’re a bit more common here than anywhere else, but still rare. It’s meant to be that you if you see two of them then it’s a mated pair, and the couple who sees them will stay together through their life and the next, like the bulsajo in the myths.”

Glancing up, you note that there’s two of them playing together in the breeze, their magnificent wings beating to keep them flying while they soar and swoop together. Something inside you gets a little emotional and your voice catches.

“Is that real? Or did you just say it right now to try and make me feel better?”

“Totally real. I spent a lot of time here growing up, you learn some things. One of my tutors lived in town and told me about it. I guess it’s kind of like...our version of soulmates or something? Either way, I believe in both. So it doesn’t matter what other people think, it matters what we think. I don’t care that you grew up poor on Earth, or that I grew up here with all the shit my family has. I don’t care if people think we’re stupid or weird. I know and you know. I spent twenty-three years of my life seeing in black and white. You spent twenty-two. And then I touch you, the girl I’d been crushing on for months and suddenly we can both see? I have no other explanation for that, and frankly I don’t want one. I’m happy with what we have.” Biting your lip, you curl into him a little more and sigh.

“People will think I’m just looking for money or status though.” That has Hoseok snorting and he stretches his legs out.

“Let them think that. It doesn’t matter, we know what’s real. That’s what matters.” Looking at him, you scan over his face intently and see clearly that he’s being completely serious about it. He really doesn’t care what anyone will think, despite the vast wealth and social status gulf between you both.

Thinking about that too hard makes you feel upset though and you don’t want to feel that. Not right now. Not here with him.

So instead, you just look out across the incredible ocean in front of you. The sun isn’t as high as it was anymore and you wonder how it would look with the blaze of fiery colours that splash across the sky at sunrise will look against the exquisite jewel of the sea. You’re sure it’s probably phenomenal and you try to imagine it already, putting what you’d already see of sunrises against this beautiful background.

And then suddenly, you’re reminded of Busan. Of the grey world you’d grown up in, the heaving city with the dirty streets and buildings. The mountains that had once soared into the sky but were now outmatched by the skyrises that loomed even higher. You had seen the ocean there, known that at once point in its history it too had probably resembled something approaching what you saw here today. But that had been so long ago.

Now that ocean was as dead as everything else around it, a sullen grey that was probably exactly what you had always seen growing up. Your mom hated going to the ocean, even though one of her cleaning jobs had been stationed on the dock there.

It was a feral ocean on Earth, angry and riled up by the weather constantly. Hell bent on destroying what humans had built in revenge for the pollution they had caused centuries ago which had suffocated the planet. You knew that was just your mind being over-active, but you could believe it.

You’d want revenge on humanity as well.

And it was all your parents had known. You were suddenly reminded of how you’d promised to get your parents off Earth once you had the money and you swallowed thickly, throat tight as hot tears burnt your eyes. Here you were, swanning around New Korea with your soulmate and taking in the sights of one of the most beautiful and exclusive places on the whole planet while your parents were back on Earth, still labouring and toiling in their exhausting existence.

The first tear falls, trailing down your cheek before it’s rapidly joined with another on the other side. Deep pain that you’d pushed down for years, the homesickness now for Earth but for the two people who had loved you so much that they’d given up everything for you roaring to life. They would love it here.

Suddenly, a ragged sob leaves your mouth and you bury your face in your hands as your shoulders shake from the strength of your cries. The startled noise Hoseok makes tells you that he doesn’t understand what’s happening at the moment but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and rocking you slowly as he whispers soothing words to you.

For a few minutes, all you do is cry out the pain and longing, the desire and guilt that all mingles together when you think of your parents until finally your crying is more stable again. Your eyes are puffy and sore, cheeks stained wet with your tears and you have to wipe away some delightful mucus from your nose.

“I’m sorry.” You croak out, voice breaking slightly. The tears still fall, only quieter this time, their intensity burnt out of you as you take in deep and shaky breaths to try and stabilise yourself. Hoseok’s hand rubs your back in long and slow movements, the feeling so calming and reassuring.

“It’s okay...are you okay? What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?” His concern is sweet and you smile weakly, wiping at your eyes before resting your hand on his knee. Licking your lips, you wonder how to word it before finally deciding to just jump straight in. You hadn’t explicitly discussed your parents with him before, not wanting to seem so...poor in front of him but now you felt shame for thinking that.

“I just...I wish my parents could see this. Just...all of it. The ocean, the sky, New Seoul. Everything. I wish I could bring my parents and give them a better life than what they had. I promised them I would but I don’t know when that will be. I don’t even know if they’ll be alive then,” You look at Hoseok, his face blurry from the tears and your breath catches in your throat. “My mom is fifty-four currently, and my dad is fifty-six. I don’t...I don’t think I’ll be able to meet my promise to them and I just...feel so guilty about being here and enjoying myself when they’re back there.”

The tears track down your face against, following those that had already come before and you sniff, the sound gross but you can’t help it. Hoseok’s got a frown on his face, not quite understanding.

“There’s still plenty of time to bring them here. You can do it, don’t put yourself down like that.” He starts but you shake your head, interrupting him.

“What’s the average age here in New Korea?” The frown on his face shows that he’s confused, but he answers slowly. He knows, you know that he knows it. With parents as influential as his, there’s no way he doesn’t. New Korea has a higher life expectancy than normal, with a woman living on average one hundred and thirty one years. Men live an average of one hundred and twenty nine years.

“Earth is sixty-four for a woman. Sixty-four Hoseok,” Your face crumples as you say it out loud finally, a sob choking in your throat. “According to the average she has ten years left. How am I meant to bring them here in 10 years? My dad has even less and he already has issues. They’re going to die in that shithole without ever getting to see anywhere else. Without getting to see a blue ocean or a blue sky. Never getting to breath air that isn’t polluted, go into a building that isn’t dirty and falling down. Never get to eat fresh meat or have fresh, real ice-cream. None of that. Because they spent their entire life working to get me here.”

Sniffling, you wipe at your nose once more and try to take a calming breath. You can tell that Hoseok doesn’t really know what to say, but you didn’t expect him to honestly. What could he say? He truly had no idea what life was like on Earth. Growing up there was one thing, but you’d escaped at eighteen. You were never going back. But they were never getting out.

“I’m sorry. I...I wish I had an answer for you. Some...some way to resolve it. I’d offer to pay but I get the feeling you wouldn’t really like that.” Looking at him, you shrug weakly and give him a limp smile.

“It’s my mom and dad. My only family. I think I’d do just about anything but that would definitely reinforce the idea that I’m just with you for your money. And...I’d feel too guilty towards you. That I’d have a debt to repay already. It’d make me feel like I was using you too.” Before you can even say anything more, Hoseok is shifting to face you properly.

“Okay, I’m going to say this nicely. You’re not with me for my money, and even if you are then I guess I’m an idiot because I don’t care. I offered this, you didn’t ask. You’re even turning me down. I have money Y/N, you know that. We both know my family probably has more money than sense and we don’t need it. Bringing your parents here? That’s probably the nicest thing we’ll do in years.” He sounds so honest and stern that you can’t help but pause, eyes tracking every minute expression of his face to see if he’s being truthful.

And surprisingly, you get the sense that he is. Hoseok would probably transfer that money to you right now if you asked, but the shame and pride you have whirring inside you stops you from doing that. Instead, you just look down at where he’s taken your hand, uncaring if it’s covered in snot and tears.

“Your parents might not approve of that.” It wasn’t cheap moving someone from Earth to New Korea. Your flight had been paid for by a travel grant. Not to mention then they’d have to find somewhere to stay. They had no money saved up and they might not even be fit enough for jobs here. But it was still tempting. So tempting.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this...but I don’t really care what my parents think. My parents are...well they only really cared about themselves and their image I guess. The Jung name is the most important, you know? They cared about politics and making sure they had influence. I drove them up the wall when I showed zero interest in any of their stuff. Did my degree cos they wanted it and I couldn’t be bothered to argue with them if they were letting me go to New Seoul. This estate is nice and all but...it’s not really that nice when you never see your parents. They always had business to attend to, events to plan, events to go to, work to do or just...plain not caring about me.” You squeeze his hand, distraught at how callous they sound. Even though you’d grown up in the backwater of Earth, you knew that your parents would have died for you if they’d had to.

“They’re older by New Korea standards for parents. Too busy having social lives and influence I guess. Kids would have interrupted that. And then suddenly they realised that they had no heir so they tried for five years. Natural and artificial until finally...baby Hoseok arrived. And then they just couldn’t get pregnant after that. I was it. All they had. They wouldn’t even consider adoption. A Jung that’s not in the bloodline? Not acceptable. So yeah, I grew up being the family disappointment because I didn’t want to do what they did but they couldn’t turn me down or throw me out. Can’t disown me because then the family name dies. I’d enjoy getting stuff out of it if I didn’t feel like it was such a heavy burden.”

He’s not looking at you now. Instead, his gaze is focused firmly out on the horizon and your heart clenches when you notice the bleak expression on his face. Now you understand why he’s never liked talking about his family.

You couldn’t even begin to understand his feelings towards his parents or the society he’d grown up in, but at the same time he couldn’t understand yours either. Which made you both kind of perfect in a way, as it meant you were both bridging the gap between each other’s worlds.

“I think you’re perfect.” The words are a little limp, quietly spoken without you even meaning to but you can feel the honesty from deep within you as your grip tightens on his arm. It makes him smile though, no matter how lame it sounded and he kisses your forehead affectionately.

“Thank you. I think you’re perfect too,” He quietens momentarily, looking down and playing with the sand before taking a deep breath. “These last two months have been amazing. For once, I feel like someone likes me for just me. Not my family name or money or influence. Just me. Jung Hoseok. I feel like I could be the poorest person on this planet and you’d still look at me that way.”

“Because I would. You look at me the same way and I was the poorest person on the planet when I arrived. I came from nothing and I arrived with nothing really. Just some clothes packed up in an old bag that my parents had managed to scavenge from one of our neighbours and a pocket full of credits that they’d given me. I won’t lie that the idea of financial stability is attractive but...I’ve been in poverty before. Poverty to the levels no one understands here. I wouldn’t be happy if I was back there, but I’d at least be happy to have you.” That makes Hoseok make a quiet noise before he’s hugging you tightly, pressing overly exaggerated kisses to your head in an effort to lighten the mood and you can’t help but giggle as he rocks you from side to side.

“You can’t say things like that. It makes me feel all funny and then I’m definitely convinced that soulmates exist because there’s no way they don’t when you’re saying something that deep to me so soon and all I can think is to make heart eyes at you.” Snorting, you push his face away with one sand covered hand and watch in amusement as his expression contorts in disgust, spitting noises being made as he tries to rid himself of the sand that had fallen into his mouth.

The next few minutes is taken over by you both play fighting, getting your still wet clothes even more covered in the fine sand that you’d so loved at the beginning. You didn’t love it as much anymore, but that didn’t matter because you were making him smile and laugh again. The sound and sight filled you with such joy that you felt like you were floating.

It’s when he’s tickling you that you get the urge, laughing loudly at his touch. You get an odd out-of-body experience, like you’re looking at him from outside yourself and you see the most beautiful man ever. His skin is glowing fiercely in the slowly lowering sun while his black hair has highlights of soft brown from the gentle rays, his delicate half-moon eyes dancing in happiness while the roundness of his cheeks is higher than ever from the heart wrenching smile on his face.

If you had to spend twenty-three years seeing in black-and-white, you thought it was all worth it for this one moment. To watch him in glorious colour, so vibrant and full of life, against the backdrop of the jaw-droppingly beautiful vista of jutting mountains, luscious trees, the jewelled ocean and a sky that was beginning to streak beautifully with the rich, warm strokes of nature’s sunset.

“I love you.” It falls from your lips without you even realising it. Those three words, three syllables that mean something so deep and intense that has been said for centuries in hundreds upon hundreds of different languages across hundreds of planets and billions of people. Words that portray your feelings and yet can never adequately get across what you truly feel deep within, the well of sheer and intense emotion that still feels so young after only two months and yet so old that it almost makes your bones ache.

Hoseok stops moving, his face shocked for a second as his jaw drops open. But then you spot those sweet dimples indenting themselves in his cheeks, the way his full, pink lips begin to curve into that beautiful heart shaped smile that you’ve fallen for so quickly. The happiness that had been present in his eyes turns quickly to pure and unabashed joy.

And then he’s kissing you, those lips soft and gentle against your own yet you feel the powerful force of his own emotions behind them. He pushes you backwards gently, the sand cushioning your body as he lays next to you, his torso leaning over just enough to keep the kiss going and you sighed into it, running your fingers through his sea salt encrusted hair gently.

There’s no time wasted from him as he dips his tongue into your mouth quickly, the movement familiar after so many makeout sessions that your dates often devolved into. One hand cups your face so gently, his fingers stroking your skin tenderly and you suddenly feel the urge to cry at everything. Like the emotions and feelings are all too much.

Almost as if he recognises that, he lifts his head from you, the sound of your lips separating almost audible despite the crashing waves. Opening your eyes, you take in the sight of him in so much beautiful, luscious colour that only he had brought into your life. Lips that were swollen from the kiss, flushed a deep pink from the movement while the chocolate brown of his eyes has darkened as his pupils widened.

“I love you too. And I don’t care if anyone thinks that we’re rushing or any of that. I believe you, with this soulmate thing. I really do,” His thumb runs along your cheek gently and his eyes dart all over you. “I’ve never felt as at peace or as happy as I do with you. Might sound like a drama, but it’s true.”

“I get it. I do.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you give him the biggest smile that you can only hope shows even half of the pure ecstasy and joy that lights you up from within. There’s a moment’s pause before you’re simultaneously pulling him down while leaning up, meeting his lips once more in a kiss that you’ve grown addicted to.

At that moment, he moves to almost lay on top of you, the sand shifting beneath you as he does so and you gasp when it shifts enough to cause his hips to slide against yours firmly. It wouldn’t bother you normally, but this time you can feel that Hoseok is as happy and excited as you are.

Almost immediately he’s jerking away, eyes wide with worry as he holds his palm out in a calming gesture. Chest heaving ever so slightly, he wipes at his lips before reaching out and resting a hand on your knee. Despite everything, you don’t even hear him apologise as your eyes are focused solely on his groin.

It may be the 32nd century and clothing material may have been drastically improved over the centuries but they still couldn’t quite make anything that wouldn’t be painful and restraining for when a guy got an erection. Which meant that unfortunately, they still had the telltale tented pants when they were feeling frisky.

Or those awkward moments where they just randomly got hard.

You knew that Hoseok probably wasn’t bothered about the erection itself. People in New Korea were more sexually liberal as you’d already discussed and those who grew up and lived in New Seoul were even more promiscuous than more rural areas or other cities. As such, you had no doubt that Hoseok didn’t give a flying fuck about it.

But he knew that you didn’t grow up like that and even though you lived with Taehyung, you still got a little shy about it.

Not now though. Now you wanted him in all the ways possible, not just the soft and tender ways that you’d been experiencing.

“I want you.” You blurt out, looking up at him. For a few seconds he pauses, almost like the words are filtering in his brain but then his eyes widen and his jaw drops. It almost looks like he’s going to protest and you’re fascinated by the concept but then suddenly he’s standing, brushing the sand from his clothes before grasping your hand.

“We may be more sexually liberal here but our first sex is not going to be on a beach in public for everyone to see.” He says sternly and you feel your stomach drop with anticipation while your pussy clenches tightly at the thought. His words are so plain and blunt and you almost whine as he pulls you into a standing position, kissing once more before walking as quickly as he possibly can back towards the estate.

You’re almost dragged behind him, almost falling over multiple times as you struggle to balance properly in the sand. It was the strangest thing really, how it kept moving beneath your feet. A five minute walk on this beach made you feel like you’d run for ten minutes, and you were working with an Earth physique too.

Despite the sexual tension that was now bubbling over, your body hot with desire while his hand grips yours so tightly that you’re positive he’s just as warm with anticipation, you both can’t stop giggling at the way you struggle. Quick laughs are taken over by kisses peppered over your face, returned by you to him whenever he stops and leans towards you. More than once, you wrap your arms around his waist and simply enjoy a deep and delightful kiss, the cooling air rushing past you yet doing nothing to quell the flames of need.

Finally though, you both cross the rise and run towards the black gate that stands out so boldly against the white wall. You’re so enamoured by Hoseok that you don’t even notice the way his family estate rises so boldly behind the tall wall, it’s foundations deep and strong. All you see is Hoseok.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you had hormones racing through you, desperate to get your hands on the delightful body of your soulmate finally, then you might have taken more time to look around the house as he led you through it. Or maybe it was a good thing you’d been too absorbed in him, given the complete disparity in this house and where you’d grown up.

You don’t get to think of it though as soon enough, Hoseok is opening a door on the second floor and quickly pulling you through, closing and locking it behind him instantly. There’s a brief question of why he’s locking the door in an empty house but you don’t get to think of it as Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer before attaching his lips to your neck.

Almost immediately you sigh in delight, shifting your head back to give him better access as his kisses your sensitive skin. His experience shows clearly as he licks at you before blowing on it, the cooling sensation making you shudder before he laughs and tries his hardest to suck a bruise into you. All the while, his hands are slowly trailing along your skin beneath your shirt, the pads of his fingers soft and gentle yet firm when he grips at your ass.

“Hoseok…” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair before tugging a little, enjoying the whine he lets out before he finally lets you lift his head until he’s looking directly at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever been as turned on as you are right now, staring into an expression of pure lust and desire.

Slowly, you extricate yourself from his grip all the while fully ignoring his grumblings at the loss of you. And in carefully paced movements, you strip yourself of any clothes until you’re standing before him bare, the temperature of the room just warm enough to stop you from feeling chilled. But the goosebumps on your skin aren’t anything to do with temperature, nor the way your nipples peak almost painfully.

That’s everything to do with the hungry look in Hoseok’s eyes, the low growl that reverberates from his chest at the sight of you. You’ve never been this bold with sex before, even with Taehyung for whom sex was the most natural thing in the world. But there’s something about Hoseok that just commands you to move forward, to keep moving and take what you want.

Even now, in your vulnerable state, you feel safe and protected in his presence.

Carefully, you move backwards until your calves hit the tall bed that you’d spotted upon entering the room. It’s in a traditional style, with four dark wood posters reaching up towards the tall ceiling and an impossibly soft looking cover set covering the astonishingly large mattress. Of course a house like this would have a bed big enough to get lost in.

But you don’t care, keeping your gaze on Hoseok’s as you slowly make your way around to the open side of the bed, biting your lip as you crawled up onto the softness and simply kneeling there. Hoseok hasn’t moved once, only his eyes following you and you feel the pure desire for him to touch you.

So you reach out, hands palm up as you try your hardest to bring across your need for him. And he understands instantly, his hands working to throw his own clothes off with a haste that would almost make you laugh if you weren’t so turned on.

Instead, you watch hungrily as luscious golden skin is revealed, taught muscles and a perfectly formed body that makes your mouth water and your pussy clench in lust. Hoseok is taller than you and has the slightly leaner body structure that those on lower gravity planets had. It looked good on him.

He moves over to you quickly, cock bouncing with every stride from how unbelievably hard he was and you lick at your lips, grinning when he threads his fingers through your own. You don’t get to admire him anymore though as he leans forwards, latching his lips onto yours and you moan into his kiss, opening your mouth and letting him have his way with you. It’s nothing that you haven’t both already done before, but it almost feels like a tease of what’s to come, the way his tongue slides into your mouth while his hands tighten on your own has you gasping, thighs clenching together as an almost painful ache takes over between your legs.

You’re almost amused to find out that you’re impatient for him, the need for him to be inside you so strong. None of the other times you’d had sex had ever been like this. While you’d certainly enjoyed it, you hadn’t felt an all encompassing desire to have sex. Until now.

Falling backwards onto the bed, you forget about the disparity between your strengths and Hoseok pulls away from your mouth with a yelp as he almost crashes into you on the bed. What you’d thought had been a gentle, almost playful tug of his hands from you had actually been much stronger than you’d anticipated, your Earth heritage coming through and you immediately begin apologising.

He laughs though once recovered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before trailing slowly down your chest to your neglected nipples. Tongue swirling around one peak, Hoseok peaks up at you playfully, grinning despite what he’s doing with his pearly white teeth on full show.

“Someone forgot how strong they are huh?” He teases, sucking on the bud hard after speaking until you’re whining beneath him, body writhing in a movement that ends up with him perfectly on top of you and between your legs. The hardness of his erection pressing against your stomach is erotic, the heat of it causing more wetness to leak from you as you shift your hips in an effort to try and get him to slip inside.

But he thwarts your attempts, the husky laugh vibrating against your chest delightfully and you can’t help the smile at the sound. His happiness is infectious, particularly given how excited you are yourself. Hoseok doesn’t let you bring him back up though, instead he’s pressing butterfly kisses down your stomach, your muscles sucking in to try and hide them a little.

Despite your need for him and complete uncaring about your body at first, you still can’t deny the tiny voice in your head pointing out that you’re far heavier looking than most girls here on New Korea. Their lower gravity meant they all naturally looked slimmer than you anyway, but Hoseok doesn’t even pay attention to it. Instead he just lavishes your body with kiss upon kiss, focusing entirely on you without a care and you feel yourself relax a little in comfort with his attention.

“Hoseok, you don’t need to. We can just-” He interrupts you with a hard look, his hand moving to push your thighs apart as he finally reaches the place he wants. There’s a moment of stillness before he slowly lowers his face and you feel his tongue press against your pussy’s entrance firmly. He holds it there for a second before slowly dragging it up, the sensation wet and yet so unbelievably amazing.

His tongue is flat as it presses against the hood of your clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves desperate for his attention but he doesn’t give it to you. Not yet. You’re not sure if he’s just teasing you or if it’s because he hasn’t found the spot to make you moan but you don’t care, can’t find it in yourself to care.

“I am not going to just stick my dick in you without any foreplay.” Hoseok says, his tone not allowing for anymore nonsense and you go hot at the steel in his voice. Part of you wants to go against him but you can just tell that you’ll get nowhere. So your jaw snaps shut, instead just watching as Hoseok gives a smirk of satisfaction before dipping his head back down.

It takes only a minute or so for him to actually find your clit with his talented tongue, a minute of him exploring you and taking in your taste before you jerk in pleasure. A deep hum leaves him as you do so, letting you know that he’s pleased himself by finding it and you spend the next few minutes being edged towards an orgasm so wonderfully by his hot, wet mouth.

You’re not sure if it’s because he has the experience and knowledge or if it’s because of whatever bond you have with him as your soulmate, but the pleasure he gives you seems to be double what you normally experience. Each ghostlike touch of his fingers as they dance along your inner thighs feels almost unbearable, each lap of his tongue on your pussy sending jolts of pleasure through your body that are more intense than you’ve ever experienced and you’re almost embarrassed by how slick you’ve become down there, inner muscles clamping in a painful ache around nothing.

“Hoseok please, god please,” You beg, voice high pitched and whiny as you gently tug at his hair. It takes a lot of effort to remember to be careful with him but you do, successfully getting him to look at you. “Please, I need you now. Please.”

He watches for a few seconds before grinning, pressing a kiss to the hair on your mound before making his way back up the bed. Glancing down, you bite your lip at the sight of straining erection, the tip of him flush with colour while a clear liquid drips from him in his excitement. It makes you feel even hotter, even more lustful for him and you’re running your hands along his body, memorising every part of him before you kiss him deeply.

Neither of you makes any effort to stop the kiss, enjoying the feelings and the sparks it generates. Until you feel the head of his cock pressing against your clit, his hips rocking ever so slightly to try and get what stimulation he can from you. Reaching down, you grasp him gently, enjoying the way he groans into your mouth and how his hips push forwards, rutting into your grip.

Squeezing him, you give him a few strokes, fully enjoying how hard he feels beneath your hand, the thickness of his girth and the pure heat of him. Finally though, you direct him to your sopping entrance, so unbelievably wet and slick in preparation for him. As soon as you feel the tip of him push into you, he takes over and surges forward.

Hoseok isn’t as big as Taehyung, but you hardly notice with the pure ecstasy that his cock produces in you. Your entire body shudders violently beneath him, the sensation of him rubbing against your sensitive walls overwhelming in a way you’d never experienced before and your head falls back into the pillow, ragged moans leaving your throat.

He’s not spared from it either, whatever special bond the two of you have that has made you both feel so happy and comfortable with each other apparently magnifying in the heat of sex. It’s unlike you’ve experienced before and you don’t complain when he begins thrusting immediately, the sharp slap of skin on skin loud in the room.

It’s almost drowned out by the hedonistic moans, groans and growls that escape your throats in the desperate pursuit you both have for an orgasm. The familiar tightness in between your legs seems to be bigger and tighter than you’ve ever felt before, stretched almost to breaking point and you heave breaths beneath Hoseok, hands scratching at his back desperately. The pleasure he’s giving you is almost too much, almost too painful for you to cope with and your mind can’t quite work out what’s going on.

“Fuck Hoseok, I...Hoseok...oh my g...uurgh please.” You beg incoherently, unaware of what you’re babbling to him. He’s moaning out your name and curse words in Korean that you don’t even understand, words you’ve never heard before. But you understand the meaning behind them, the pure need and strain in them as he fucks into you hard.

Your pussy clenches around him almost rhythmically, the friction his cock causes as he slides in and out of you in a smooth glide thanks to the obscene amount of slickness you’ve created causing more feelings than you’d ever experienced in sex before. Legs tightening, you almost feel a cramp in your thigh from how hard you’re holding your muscles in your body, gasped moans encouraging him forward.

And then he brings a hand to your pussy, fingers coating themselves in your sticky wetness before he fumbles for a few seconds, looking for something. The way you cry out, body spasming on him let him know that he’s found what he wanted and those talented fingers continue to rub at your clit, quick little circles in a rhythm that has your breath stuttering.

“Come on baby, come for me. Come on. I know you can.” He whispers into your ear, kissing along the sweat soaked skin there before trailing his lips along your jaw. His hair is jet black once more, only the wetness now has been caused by the sweat of effort and sex. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a sexier sight and moan, the combination of it all finally spiralling you into what had to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life.

For a few seconds, you can’t think even properly, your mind whiting out and your hearing going fuzzy. You momentarily wonder what’s gone on before the blazing heat of your orgasm overloads the nerves of your body, your pussy spasmodically tightening on Hoseok’s cock in a way that has him whining out in dual need and agony. There’s no controlling your strength here, and as the blistering pleasure begins to subside, aftershocks ricocheting through you, you realise that Hoseok’s probably never fucked someone so tight as you right now.

Sure enough, he comes almost instantly once you begin to wind down, the vice your inner muscles made on his cock too good for him to be able to last any longer. Hips stuttering violently, a deep groan that borders on a growl is dragged from what sounds like the very pit of his stomach, entire body shaking as you feel his cock twitch with each pulse inside you.

Humming in delight, you watch him through tired eyes as his face scrunches up, giving away every single thing he’s feeling. It causes a surge of pride inside you to see it, to know that you’ve caused that and you run your fingers through his hair, messing up the strands. It brings him back to you though, his gaze almost lazy as he finally slows to a halt inside you.

The two of you are breathing heavily, as if you’d just run a marathon in forty degree heat but there’s a feeling of satisfaction in the air. Taking in his face, watching as a bead of sweat track down his temple, you feel more in love with him than ever.

Fully aware it’s probably just the after effects of the sex, the incredibly good sex, you nonetheless bathe in the sensation as he gives you a tired smile. The kiss you both share now is almost sluggish, your energy gone but it feels so incredibly intimate after what you’d just done, with him still buried inside you.

“Fucking hell, if that’s what our first time is like…” Hoseok trails off, pulling out of you and flopping onto his back beside you. That toned stomach you’d admired so much before is breathing heavily, lungs sucking in breath in an attempt to recover from the frenzied workout he’d just had.

Like everything else so far, it had been quick and intense but you already knew that you wouldn’t change it for the world. Rolling to your side, you smile at him before kissing his shoulder and then resting your head on it.

“I look forward to us in the future then.” You tease him lightly, running your fingers along his chest and causing him to shiver. The temperature in the room was perfect before, but now it feels almost cold as you both begin to cool down.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok grins, looking at you with mischief in his eyes. “Do you wanna shower? I swear you’ve never seen a bathroom till you’ve seen this one.”

Pushing up onto your elbow, you raise an eyebrow at him in interest, pursing your lips. “Oh yeah? Big enough for two?”

“Oh baby...how naive you are. Let me educate you in the ways of rich people having way too much fucking money and not enough sense.”

Waking up the next morning is the most luxurious thing in the world. The bed is just as unbelievably comfortable as you’d first thought and the pillow beneath your head is so soft that you’re tempted to just let yourself drift back off into sleep.

This is truly a luxury that you’ve never even considered before and part of you wants to ask Hoseok if you can have this bed. Not that it’d fit in your apartment but still.

But what really makes it all feel so much better is the warm presence behind you, the solid arm slung over your waist and the gentle puffs of breath that tickle the back of your neck. Groaning quietly, you stretch and enjoy the way you ache delightfully all over, the slightest soreness between your legs as your muscles relax once more.

The two of you had indeed enjoyed his astonishingly large bathroom and you’d discovered that shower sex really wasn’t as fun as it looked. Taehyung had told you that once but you hadn’t believed it. You did now, particularly given Hoseok had accidentally thrust so hard that you’d lost balance, taking the two of you down onto the slick tiled floor.

Thankfully, as Hoseok had said, the shower was ridiculously large and so the two of you had been safe from any real damage. That hadn’t stopped you from feeling embarrassed of course, but Hoseok had simply laughed and kissed you, taking the opportunity to enjoy one of the benefits of his family's wealth as he pulled you on top of him.

It hadn’t been the most comfortable sex you’d ever had, but you’d enjoyed it all the same.

You finally understood though what Taehyung had talked about when he’d discussed the honeymoon phase of a relationship because you didn’t want to take your hands off Hoseok. It was like the sex had unleashed a primal desire within you to have him as many times as was physically possible.

Which meant that this morning, you were aching but also feeling exceptionally fulfilled.

Twisting around, you take in the sight of Hoseok fast asleep beside you. His expression is gentle, almost innocent looking in his sleep and you take him in with unhidden delight. The rays of sun peeking through the gauzy curtains that hang over the large bay windows streak over his face, lighting his skin from within to give him a healthy glow.

Dark hair is splayed across the pillow and you have no doubt that he’s probably going to get up with some serious bedhead. Equally dark lashes flutter slightly as his eyes move beneath his closed eyelids, breath a little faster suddenly as he twitches and you smile as you watch him wake.

Neither of you had slept in a bed together so far. You’d fallen asleep on each other occasionally sure, but that had almost been on a couch or something. The bed had felt a step too far.

You almost understood why now,

Because you weren’t sure you would ever let him go now that you’d been so intimate with him, now that you’d slept beside him and experienced what a night with your soulmate was like. Even though you were tired, you felt so refreshed and just...happy.

Like he’d somehow rejuvenated your senses and mind. You were positive that if you told Taehyung this that he’d roll his eyes and laugh, telling you that you sounded like some kind of sappy romance writer and that it was probably all in your head.

And maybe it was, but even so. It felt so good.

Bringing your hand up, you let your fingers run along the smooth skin of his rounded cheek, taking in every centimetre of his face while you had the time. His lips were pursed in a pout, their soft pinkness not as swollen as last night when he’d kissed you like his life depended on it.

Gently, you slide your thumb over the softness of his lower lip, enjoying how it felt before you move to his nose, trailing the pad of your finger down the elegant slope of his nose. Lips quirking into an awed smile, you simply watched him as you took in his regal features and felt that familiar bubble of marvel that you’d found him.

Out of the entire galaxy, with the odds of a whole universe against you, you’d found your soulmate. And he was everything you had imagined and so much more.

“Mmm, if you keep doing that I’m going to have to repeat last night.” He murmurs suddenly, his voice so unbelievably deep and husky from the deep sleep he’d been awoken from. Grinning, you rest your palm on his cheek and kiss the tip of his nose, careful to avoid his breath or let him smell your own.

As much as you love him, you don’t think you’d love the smell of his breath in the morning. Society still hadn’t figured out a cure for that unfortunately.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind that.” You tease him lightly, thumb stroking and you feel something joyful blossom in your heart as he tilts his head into your hand, shifting until he can kiss the palm of your hand affectionately.

“Oh I would, but we weren’t meant to stay here last night and I think we need to get back. Someone doesn’t have any clothes here.” His eyes open and that, the deep brown dark against the whites of his eyes and you chuckle with a shrug.

Sitting up, you take a moment to stretch once more and sigh in relief at the feel of your muscles relaxing from the stiffness of sleep. True to his word, you were currently as naked as the day you’d been born.

Hoseok had run downstairs last night to get your clothes washed for today, the material stiff at the time with dried saltwater from the ocean. You’d both chosen to sleep with nothing as Hoseok didn’t even have clothes here anymore, a sensation you weren’t used to but that felt oddly liberating.

The covers of the bed slip down to your waist and you exhale deeply, looking over to the large windows with curiosity. You hadn’t bothered to look last night, too enamoured with Hoseok and sex at first and then it had simply been too dark to see anything later.

But now, now you can see it and your eyes widen as you realise what you’re looking at.

Slipping out of bed, you pause for a moment as you feel the vulnerability of your nakedness. Shifting slightly, you look back at Hoseok only to see that his eyes are closed once more. Chuckling to yourself, you move over to the curtains and peek through them carefully.

Hoseok’s bedroom apparently faces the ocean and your jaw drops as you take in the view. It’s the bay that you’d both enjoyed yesterday, the sea shimmering in it’s luscious greens and blues while the deep emerald of the forests on the mountains provide the perfect contrast.

“Holy shit, you didn’t tell me this was your bedroom view!” You say loudly, pushing the curtains aside as you realise there’s no one to see your nakedness. Opening the doors that make up the windows, you push them to the side and lean against the metal barrier that prevents you from falling out and take it all with greedy eyes.

Almost immediately you’re hit with the soothing sound of the crashing waves and your eyes close as you take it in with a smile, the unique scent of the ocean filling your nose as a warm breeze rolls by. You’re not sure that you’ve ever felt so at peace somewhere before than you do here, with the strong mountains and the serene ocean.

“I forgot honestly.” Hoseok’s voice is close and you turn slightly, finding him almost directly behind you. The sun makes him almost look like some ancient god and you feel your mouth dry at the sight of him, his skin so vibrant and the tone of his muscles making you want to reach out and touch him.

Though that’s not what distracts you the most though. No, that would be the sight of a very proud erection jutting out from the dark pubic hair, cock quivering slightly as it fights gravity and your brow quirks up in amusement.

Looking up into his eyes, you ask him the question silently and he just grins, shrugging without a hint of shame or embarrassment.

“What can I say? I’m looking at my very naked, very beautiful soulmate standing in front of one of the most astonishing views on the whole planet. Forgive me for being a little turned on.” Laughing, you don’t protest as he moves forward to you and turns you around so you’re both facing the ocean once more.

His lips press to your neck in gentle kisses while one hand shifts down your body dangerously, meeting the hair that nestles between your legs and dipping beneath. The touch of his fingers against the hood of your clit has you sighing, legs shifting slightly to give him better access and you feel the whisper of a laugh against you.

“I thought we don’t have time?” You ask breathlessly, the ghost of a moan in your voice as he darts his fingers lower, coating himself in the slickness that somehow is already present despite the short amount of time since this started. Maybe it’s just because of who and what he is to you that he has you so turned on so quickly.

“We’ll just make time.”

It’s over forty-five minutes later when you both finally get downstairs, now fully clothed and clean again after yet another shower. Hoseok had promised you that there would be food in the kitchen as apparently they had house staff who kept the estate operational at all times in case anyone wanted to come back.

That had made you pause and he’d rolled his eyes, saying it was a family thing that he thought was excessive but he still appreciated it at moments like this. You couldn’t find an argument with that when your stomach rumbled, the two of you realising that you hadn’t bothered to eat much yesterday and so you were both determined to have a big, hearty breakfast to make up for all the...exercise you’d both done.

Following Hoseok down the ridiculously large staircase, you almost walk into him as he stops suddenly halfway down, yelping as you struggle to balance before resting your hands on his back. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he suddenly speaks and you go cold.

“Mom. Dad.” Without even a word to you, you can feel the tension in his body as the muscles of his back go stiff, his shoulders rising ever so slightly. The anxiety in your stomach bubbles at the realisation that his parents are here, but there’s also a worry about how he’s reacting.

From what he’d told you yesterday, and what you’d gathered previously full stop, you got the distinct impression that Hoseok and his parents didn’t get along with each other. And now you were, in their fancy estate with their only son.

“What are you doing here?” He asks in Korean, the Korean that they use here rather than the one you’d learnt back on Earth, his tone so blunt that you’re pretty sure he could have hammered a nail with it and you cringe slightly. Even you recognised the belligerence in him and you wonder if you’re going to have to be witness to a fight between them both.

That was an alien concept to you, as you’d never witnessed your own parents fight. Nor had you fought with them.

“What are you doing here? Why are you not at the university?” A crisp voice responds, the tone light and feminine yet filled with an underlying steel. It makes your stomach sink to hear it and you swallow hard. “And who is that with you?”

Hoseok stiffens even more if possible and your hands tighten on his shirt, knuckles pressing into his back in simultaneous comfort and concern. He doesn’t bring you out from behind him though, not immediately.

“It’s university mom, not a job. I don’t have to always be there.” It’s confusing to you why they’re being so...harsh with each other. Even with the animosity he harbours towards them, you can’t imagine ever being like this with your own parents.

“What are we paying for then if you’re swanning around the planet like you own the place? And who is that? Who have you brought into our home?” You almost feel sorry for whoever she works with in the education system as you can practically hear the underlying ‘I’m right no matter what’ in her voice. It’s a wonder that Hoseok has grown to be so friendly and warm in comparison.

What’s even more surprising is that you haven’t heard his dad speak at all. Maybe he’s more diplomatic given his career in politics.

“Firstly, I do technically own this place. It’s a family home, not your home solely. And second of all,” He hesitates for a moment before he turns slightly, giving you a small smile that told you so much before he grasps your hand, threading his fingers with your own and squeezing gently before moving to let you be seen better. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. I brought her here to see the ocean and beach.”

Your first thought upon seeing his parents is that Hoseok got his mother’s eyes and his father’s nose. They’re both astonishingly beautiful, which doesn’t surprise you at all given how exquisite Hoseok had turned out. It also isn’t a surprise given they’re rich and influential. You highly doubt that people like that married those who weren’t equally as beautiful.

Your second thought is that they don’t even remotely look like parents. Which is stupid, because anyone can be a parent obviously. But you just get the aura of them that there’s not a single maternal or paternal instinct in them both. Which given what Hoseok had said about his childhood, makes a lot of sense.

His mother is dressed in a white pant suit, the lines of her trousers crisp with not a hint of dirt on her. Her hair has obviously been dyed a luscious hazelnut brown and there’s a few signs of age hidden beneath the veneer of perfectly done make up. Lines that not even the best medical technology or make up can get rid of without it looking artificial.

She’s quite possibly one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen but she’s also one of the most intimidating. Her stare is as cold as ice, those red lips turned down at the very edges in disapproval as she scans over your body slowly. An elegant white bag that is probably made out of real leather is hung delicately over her arm, understated in a way that made it clear it cost money while her wedding ring on her finger is large, the multi-coloured rock of what had to be pure enchantium glittering in the light.

His dad is equally intimidating, his own attire a match to hers only in black. Black slacks matched with a black button up shirt, his own hair allowed to grey in that way that men can get away with. He looks ever so slightly kinder than Hoseok’s mom, but you don’t trust that at all. Given his career, he could be a viper in disguise.

Swallowing hard, you find yourself gripping Hoseok’s hand even tighter in a fear you hadn’t even realised you truly had. You’d always known Hoseok was far richer than you, that he came from a wealth you couldn’t possibly understand and a social standing that was a foreign concept to you.

But it was entirely different seeing it like this, being stood in the centre of a ridiculous grand staircase in a mansion that was as beautiful as it was overwhelming in its subtle wealth. You hadn’t queried it last night, but a quick glance around told you that everything in this entrance hallway alone was probably worth more than the apartment you’d grown up in.

And that said nothing of the chandelier that hung above it all, glittering in an astonishingly beautiful sight that you couldn’t even begin to properly comprehend. The expense of just that alone had to eye watering and with all this combined with the frozen aura of his parents, you realised just how big the gap between you both was.

Still though, you had to try. You’d managed to get yourself here with pure effort and hard work, fighting against odds that were impossible to understand. You deserved to be here.

“Hello, I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Every bit of politeness you have goes into your tone as you speak Standard to them and you give them a smile, trying your hardest to look warm and welcoming to them. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they don’t react.

“Come into the dining room. We had breakfast prepared before we arrived. I would like to talk to you both further.” His mother states before turning and walking away. Hoseok’s dad watches you quietly for a moment before inclining his head with a slight smile and following his wife.

Once they’ve both gone, Hoseok turns to you and cups your face immediately, fingers stroking at your cheeks while a distressed look takes over his expression. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know they were gonna be here, I swear. I did not want you to meet them like this.”

Carefully, you give him a smile and take his fingers, pressing a kiss to the pads of his fingers one by one before sighing. Looking back in the direction where they’d both gone, you swallowed thickly and took a deep and fortifying breath.

“Okay, we can do this. We can do this right? It’s just breakfast.” Hoseok lets out a harsh laugh, his face turning ugly for a second.

“Yeah, breakfast with my parents. I don’t even fucking like being near them. They’re...it’s not going to be nice. I wish I could say otherwise but it’s the truth. And I just want to apologise beforehand for anything they say.” His voice is soft and gentle, a deeply hidden pain buried within it and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your head to his chest while you squeeze him tightly.

“It’s okay. Honestly. I grew up on Earth...anything they throw at me is nothing compared to that. Let them try.” Looking up at him, you rest your chin on him and beam up at him brightly, hoping to brighten his mood. He stares down at you for a few seconds before chuckling reluctantly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you. Just...remember that.” Nodding, you let go of him and retake his hand, following carefully as he leads you through the maze like hallways of the house. As he goes, you take the time to take it all in, acknowledging how bright and big it all seems. It’s tastefully decorated, but you suppose that would be expected with his family.

Finally though, you come to a room that’s even more astonishing than everything else. The ceilings are high, painted the same white as everywhere else that makes it all seem so much larger than it actually is while the centre is taken up with a long table, elegant chairs pushed in while his parents sit at one end.

You almost want to laugh at how large it is, the dark table made from real wood that must be native to the planet given the purple tint to it. They’re a family of three but you’d think Hoseok had ten siblings given the size of this table.

But you don’t give in to that urge though, instead putting on a carefully neutral smile and following your boyfriend as he moves towards the table. There’s a spread of breakfast on top that makes your eyes widen despite yourself, the sheer amount of food astonishing given that they didn’t even know Hoseok was coming.

It all seemed far too much, and you wondered if they actually would eat it all if Hoseok and you were not here. The idea of wasting all of that made you cringe, nose wrinkling ever so slightly as you sat in the seat that Hoseok offered to you. He took the one next to you, closest to his father who sat at the head of the table while his mother sat opposite him.

Everything felt very awkward and you wondered how you were supposed to react. Was there special instructions on how to eat? Did you have to use certain cutlery to eat certain foods? You had no idea what to do and your hand rested on Hoseok’s thigh without even meaning to, your anxiety calming slightly at the feel of him.

“So, where are you from?” His dad asked politely. You were relieved to see that he at least had the decency to plaster a smile on his face, even if it was one of those blatantly fake ones that politicians mastered in their lifetime.

“I’m...I’m from Earth. I got into New Seoul University four years ago and moved here then, enrolling in the education department. I met Hoseok properly two months ago.” You’re not sure which bit is the one that causes Hoseok’s mother to wrinkle her nose in what you presume to be disgust but you carefully bite your tongue, smiling at Hoseok as he quietly asks if you’d like something off the plate he’s holding.

There’s nothing for a few minutes as you prepare your breakfast from the available foods, making sure to not look like you’re eating too much while making sure that you actually have enough to fulfil you. Hoseok is stiff next to you, his unhappiness so obvious to you that you wonder if it’s equally as obvious to them.

And then, his mom says something that leaves you stunned.

In Korean, or the New Korean that you’d had to study so hard over the last few years, she asks Hoseok something with a distinctly unimpressed look on her face. Something that leaves you shocked and Hoseok fuming beside you.

“Earth? Really? We’re not paying for you to be educated if you’re going to slum it with some backwards girl like this. Break it off with her today, this is just embarrassing to you and to us. Think of what it would do to our family image to have you associated with someone from Earth of all places. What do you think we are Hoseok? A charity? We raised you better than this, to have better standards. Your obsession with that cesspit is becoming too much.” Hoseok’s jaw drops at that, his hands fisting around his cutlery so tight that his fingers turn white.

You can’t even find it in yourself to say anything, understanding that she was at least having the decency to say this in a language she didn’t think you’d understand. But the fact she was still doing it in front of you was beyond mind boggling and straight into the realm of ‘holy fuck’.

And despite all that, her words hit every anxiety that you had deep inside you. Every worry that you’d buried deep when you’d realised that Hoseok was a sweet and kind guy who seemed to be unaware of the differences between you both. Because no matter what he thought, the rest of society would have a different opinion.

“First of all, you’re not paying for my education in order for me to date anyone, so why does that matter? Second of all, that’s where she grew up. If you’d take your head out of your ass and actually asked her, then you’d realise that she grew up in Old Korea. You know, our ancestral homeland? More than that, I don’t give a fuck about our family image. That’s all you guys. And finally...she can speak Korean.” He shoves a piece of fruit into his mouth after that, glaring intently at them as he chewed furiously.

His mother’s face pales slightly as she looks at you, shock the first time you’d seen something beyond disgust and the careful expression of neutrality on her. You’d almost be amused if it wasn’t for the fact that you knew she was only shocked because she was probably embarrassed at being found out like that.

But you decide to be diplomatic, recognising that Hoseok was evidently the one who was going to be battling with them today. Instead, you wanted to take the approach of trying to be sweet and kind with them, even if stuck in your throat that you had to do that when she’d been so blatantly insulting.

Sure, Earth was a backwards shithole but it had been your backwards shithole.

And besides all that, you just really hated their belittling of your soulmate. You got the distinct impression from only five minutes with them that this was common. His mom didn’t even seem offended by his harsh words.

“Well...why didn’t you state you could speak Korean?” His mom asks bluntly, a frown marring her brow in obvious disapproval. Swallowing the harsh retort you wanted to say, you instead plastered a neutral smile onto your face and gave a delicate shrug of your shoulders.

“My apologies. Most people just speak Standard to me here at the university so I’ve gotten used to it. I grew up with Korean back in Old Korea, but upon arriving here I discovered that the centuries of separation have changed the language so I had to relearn. I’m sorry if I appeared rude, it wasn’t my intention.” There, that was nice and polite.

You got the sense that Hoseok was pissed that you had to be that polite and before any of you could say anything, he suddenly spoke again.

“Did you know that she can also speak fluent English and Spanish alongside standard, New Korean and Old Korean? Or that she got better grades than me? Or that she managed to overcome unbelievable odds to get here? She’ll be graduating this year in the top 1% of her class and has already been accepted for a graduate degree. On top of all that, she works hard to maintain her grades while also working to save money,” Hoseok looked at you then, pride in his eyes. “She’s the perfect example of someone who works hard and makes it through effort. Not just being born into it.”

The silence that falls over the room is beyond awkward and you shuffle slightly, feeling flushed with embarrassment at his words. You weren’t embarrassed over him being proud of your effort, in fact you were happy that he’d remembered everything you’d told him. No, it was the ugly look on his parents faces.

“Yes well, I suppose it’s easy to do well when everyone feels sorry for you.” His dad said suddenly and you looked at him in surprise, shocked that he’d think that way. He catches this and shrugs, taking a deep swallow of juice before carefully placing the glass back down. “It’s true. You’re a novelty here and no one wants to be the one to send the girl from Earth back.”

Jaw clenching you try hard to clamp down on your temper but Hoseok beats you to it, slamming his fork down onto the table so loud that you jump.

“For your information, father, essays and exams are anonymous. They have no idea who it came from. You know that, after all, it was mother who helped to implement that standard,” He glares at his mother who sniffs in response. “And secondly, stop being so fucking rude. I thought we cared about our family image?”

His voice is so pedantic here that you almost want to laugh, Hoseok’s facial expression twisting almost comically as he parodies them. Both of their faces convulse grossly, unhappiness evident and you feel Hoseok take your hand tightly.

“Jung Hoseok, don’t you swear at us.” His dad grates out and Hoseok snorts, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck. What are you gonna do? Disown me? You can’t, you have no other heirs because you waited too long and you were too snobby to adopt. I have no cousins so our name dies with me. Disown me if you want, I don’t give a fuck. But I’m not going to sit here and subject my soulmate to the two of you.” He goes to move then when his mother lets out a bark of laughter, causing you both to pause and look at her.

“Soulmate? Is that what she’s fed you? Is that how you’ve managed to latch onto him so fiercely? I thought you were smarter than that Hoseok. Instead, apparently you’re too busy thinking with another body part to realise how you’ve been led along by someone who probably only wants to make sure she’s well off. Soulmates, are you stupid?” She spits, tone venomous and eyes equally hard.

You want to respond when Hoseok holds up a hand up to you, his face suspiciously calm and you frown at him. There’s a moment of silence in the room, everyone waiting for the next harsh words to be spoken and you quietly take a sip of your juice in an effort to just do something.

“I can see colour. Your hair is brown mom, with a slight red tint to it. Dad, the apples you’re eating this morning are a wonderfully rich red, almost purple in shade. The Earth mangoes also look particularly ripe today. I believe that being this orange means that they’ll be very sweet, yes? Though this one probably isn’t the best given it’s more green.” He finishes, glaring at them both and they stare at him in shock.

But he doesn’t let them speak, his underlying anger and disgust bubbling over. “I first saw colour over two months ago when I touched Y/N. She saw colour for the first time too. I don’t care what you believe or what you think, nor am I going to explain why I believe that she’s my soulmate. You don’t really care. All I will say is, I don’t want to talk to either of you again. Not until you’re willing to apologise for what you’ve said today and accept my girlfriend, because I will not be leaving her. Not for you, not for anyone. Disown me if you want, I’ve already said. I don’t care. I’ve had enough of you both over the years and I’ll be damned if I let you both walk all over me in this regard. It has nothing to do with you and it never will.”

They don’t speak for a few moments, eyes wide before his mother’s gaze hardens. “Fine, we won’t cut you out. Like you said, we can’t. But as long as you’re going to slum it with her, we won’t talk to you. As per your wishes. I feel like this has been a long time coming Hoseok.”

He snorts at that, rolling his eyes and standing abruptly. “Yeah, it really has. And it feels fucking amazing. Goodbye.”

You follow him as he almost storms out of the room, eyes wide in confusion as to the sudden events that have occured. Glancing back into the dining room, you note that his mother is stony faced while his father looks a little more uncomfortable, almost unhappy with what’s just happened.

Grasping Hoseok’s hand, you practically run after his long strides, almost giggling at how much faster you catch up to him. But then you see his face, the pain in it and you stop, biting your lip and climbing into the air car with him quietly.

For a good ten minutes, neither of you says anything and you simply stroke his hand reassuringly. Guilt bubbles in your stomach, causing you to look down unhappily as you wonder how everything had just happened like this. So fast as well.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper gently, licking at your lips. Almost immediately though, Hoseok is cupping your face and kissing you softly, his movements so much sweeter than the harsh and uncaring man you’d just witnessed in the dining room.

“Don’t ever say sorry for them. As my mom said, this was a long time coming. We haven’t been able to meet and not have an argument for the last few years anyway. It annoys them I don’t care about the same stuff they do. And I’ll be damned if I let them push you away with their horrible ways.” You can tell by his face that he means every word, but the very idea of pushing your parents away like this is so alien to you that you almost can’t believe it.

“But...I mean...you’ll talk again, right? They’re your parents.” Hoseok lets out a laugh, his face softening as he looks at you so fondly. Any anger he’d been feeling has evidently vanished and you revel in the attention he gives so you willingly.

“They’re not my parents. Parents are what you have, people who love you so deeply that they’d give up everything for you to make sure you’re happy. Mine are just the people who created me. They’ve never shown any interest in me, I was raised by staff. I’m not a person to them, I’m just the heir to their fortune and name.” It’s a concept you just can’t really understand, your mind refusing to wrap around the words.

You can’t even begin to imagine your own parents acting like that, even though they had nothing to give. To know that his parents had everything and yet had given their son nothing that he actually wanted was horrifying.

“I’m sorry Hoseok, you deserve better.” He smiles and shrugs, his expression a little sad. Leaning forward, he kisses your forehead and remains there for a moment, nose pressed to your hairline as he simply breathes you in.

“I do. And I have. I’ve got you now. You’ve shown me more love and affection in two months than they have in twenty-four years. I’m okay, I’m used to it. I just...are you okay? Please don’t believe what they said. They have a public persona that’s much nicer and sweeter than their real identity, as you saw. Don’t believe anything, you’re so much better than what they said.”

Watching him over quietly, you give him a small smile before moving to sit in his lap. He chuckles at the movement, arms wrapping around your waist tightly as you kiss him sweetly. The air car complains at the sudden double weight of his seat but he turns the alarm off, both of you well aware that he’s now breaking the law.

But you don’t care at the moment, too busy hugging him and just being content in his presence.

“I won’t. I can tell when someone’s saying something to just be mean. Like I said...I grew up on Earth. They have to try a lot harder to truly hurt me.” You say lightly, grinning at him before burrowing your face into his neck. He squeezes you tightly and sighs, the both of you settling into a gentle peace. “My parents will love you, I swear.”

“I have zero doubt of that, not when they did so much for you. I can’t wait to meet them.” That makes your stomach twist and tumble in excitement, the feelings buzzing through your body and you hug him harder.

“We’ll be okay, right?” You’re not sure what you mean by that, but you feel the sudden urge to ask him. The knowledge that his parents didn’t approve of you wasn’t surprising, but his willingness to cut them out of his life so quickly was. Maybe it shouldn’t have been, given what he’d told you yesterday and the way he’d avoided talking about them for so long now.

“We’ll be okay. I promise. I’m happy with you, happier than I’ve ever been. I swear.” He kisses your forehead once more, nuzzling against you and you sigh in contentment, the feeling of bliss rolling through your body at his touch.

“I’m happy with you too.”

Fifteen Years Later

The sun is high today, without a hint of any wispy white clouds to block some of the intense rays for a few minutes. It’s the middle of summer in Sejong, the days long and bright with a temperature that made you want to stay inside the air conditioned house all day long. But at the same time, the gentle breeze that blew in from the sea helped to cool the air, the scent of salt pleasant while the distant lapping waves created a calming soundtrack.

Walking out of the house that borders the beach, the home that Hoseok’s ancestors had so carefully built and maintained over the centuries, you smile brightly at the scene in the extensive garden.

The tall white walls surrounded the whole boundary of the Sejong estate, protecting it from prying eyes and providing a safe space for anyone who came here. Carefully maintained green grass that had been imported from Earth a long time ago gleamed a beautiful emerald while tall trees with the indigo stain of the native New Korean trees stood proudly amongst the lawn, their towering branches providing much needed shade.

You’d been bemused by their colouring when you’d finally been able to see colour. Even though you’d never seen brown before, or even really proper trees back on Earth, you’d grown up being told that trees had brown trunks. It had been unusual that the indigo bark had been hard to get your head around given you’d never seen anything else.

Glittering violet leaves shifted in the low wind and you inhaled deeply, the succulent scent of those special flowers that Hoseok’s mom had planted so extensively throughout the estate today smelling of luscious strawberries. Real strawberries too, not the fake crap you’d grown up with.

The sound of laughter distracts you from the nature around you, your gaze immediately being drawn to the colourful play equipment that had been set up in the very centre of the garden. Pure white sand took up a square in the middle of the grass and slides, swings and more was set up in this small play area, a traditional way for children to play in this modern era.

Your seven-year-old son was the source of the laughter, his giggle so sweet and high that it made your heart clench. Watching as he throws a handful of sand into the air, you can’t help but smile as you see your soulmate in him so strongly. Even from here, you know that his eyes would be the same half-moons of delight that Hoseok’s got when he was happy.

A shout of annoyance came from your four-year-old daughter, her small hands pressed to her hips as she scowled at her older brother. She was at that age where she wanted to follow her brother around all the time to play but he was fast approaching that strange age in childhood where they didn’t want to play with their siblings anymore.

Especially not a little sister who clung to his every movement.

Sarang shrieks in anger when Hajoon runs away from her, his longer legs letting him climb the ladder to the wooden playhouse quicker than her. You go to put a stop to their fighting, as usual, but you’re beaten to it by the elderly lady who tuts at them both in stern amusement.

“You two...stop fighting.” Your mom says, running her fingers through Sarang’s dark hair while she gestures at Hajoon who leans dangerously over the railing. He says something back to her but you can tell it’s nothing mean and you sigh quietly, looking to your side as she manages your children.

Your dad is sitting in his usual comfortable chair on the extended porch, safely in the shade but able to enjoy the weather, smells and the sight of his grandchildren without having to move. Which you’re glad of, because despite your hopes, the medical staff here on New Korea hadn’t been able to do anything for him in regards to his legs.

Hoseok had been true to his word fifteen years ago, looking into how he could bring your parents to your new home to live out their final years with you. He hadn’t let you know he was doing it, or that he’d even been in contact with them.

All you’d known was that a year later, you had been undertaking your graduate degree and Hoseok had begun working at one of his father’s companies after they had finally begun talking again. Their communications were still icy cold, but you got the sense that his dad cared more than his mom. The two of you had moved into his apartment in downtown New Seoul, an expensive building that you would have had no chance of beforehand.

And then suddenly, one day you’d come home to find your parents sitting in the living room with a smiling Hoseok. There had been a moment of complete disbelief before you’d burst into tears, running over to them both and almost choking them in tight hugs. Neither of them had complained though, instead just hugging you back just as tightly as they cried themselves.

In the five years since you had left Earth, they had aged dramatically and part of you had wondered whether Hoseok had brought them here to die within a year. Their hair had greyed quickly while the wrinkles in their skin had deepened. Despite all that though, you had been so unbelievably happy that they were finally there with you.

Hoseok had confirmed that he’d managed to get them the citizenship that you’d only just acquired last year, pulling more than a few strings with some of the family friends he knew. It had been a blatant abuse of power, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to complain. Not when your parents had finally left Earth and that your promise had been fulfilled.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, they had become completely taken with Hoseok. It had been a bizarrely amusing situation for you in which your own parents, who had been so far away, became the rocks that Hoseok and you had relied on when times get tough. His own parents had remained very distant after the whole debacle of your first meeting; Hoseok had still yet to forgive them even now.

Despite being unable to help your father with his legs, the doctors here had been able to extend your parents lives a little further than should have been possible on Earth. The combination of medicine, clean air, healthy living, no work and good food meant that they had slowly come back to life before your eyes.

A regimented skin care routine that your mother had discovered was slowly reducing the wear and tear on her skin while your father simply enjoyed not being run ragged by work. Fifteen years later, they were still here and going on strong.

It brought you to tears sometimes to know that not only had they escaped from Earth finally, but they had been at your wedding to Hoseok and had then been lucky enough to witness their grandchildren being born and growing up. All of this, because of your wonderful soulmate and two parents who had refused to let you stagnate on a dying planet.

Two arms wrap around your waist from behind, a warm body pressing against your back while petal soft lips pressed against your temple. Grinning broadly, you rest your hands on his own and tilt your head back to take in the still beautiful sight of your husband; the love of your life and your soulmate.

He smiled back at you sweetly, contentment on his face as he pressed a kiss to your lips and you sighed happily. The two of you had decided to move to the Sejong estate after Sarang’s birth just over four years ago. While you both loved New Seoul, you’d desperately wanted your children to grow up with everything you hadn’t.

Which meant a childhood free of towering buildings and busy streets. Sejong was the perfect mix of urban and rural, with Hoseok’s already owning the estate here. His parents had given to him as a wedding present, despite their distinct unhappiness at him marrying you.

So you’d made your home here. Hoseok worked for his father’s company remotely, occasionally travelling into New Seoul or any other cities he needed to before coming back. You taught at the local school in Sejong, enriching the minds of the children of those who had made their homes here in one of the most beautiful places you’d ever seen.

And just on the other side of the wall was the beach and bay that still astonished you every time you saw it. It had not only been the place where Hoseok and you had admitted your love to each other, but also the place where he had asked you to be his wife and the place where you had both sealed your love together in matrimony. As such, it had become a special place to you and you’d hated the idea of the estate standing empty when you had a family ready made to move in there.

“Let me guess, Hajoon made Sarang cry again?” Hoseok sighed quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder and you chuckled. Despite being inside when it had happened, your husband knew your children very well.

Nodding, you grin and lean back against him, the familiar contentment at his touch spreading through you.

“Yep, but my mom put a stop to it. I think she might take Sarang inside to bake soon, she bought a load of stuff at that traditional store in town.” That made Hoseok laugh, his breath warm and ticklish against your neck.

“I’ll never understand why she likes to bake when she could just get Somin to do it.” Somin was the cook that apparently came with this estate, because that was a thing. You hated it, but you wouldn’t deny that she did make the best food. Which was why you’d reluctantly agreed to keep her. That and Hoseok had pointed out that the estate was so big that you simply needed to have staff to help maintain it.

Somin at least let you cook if you wanted to, or showed you how to make things. She’d also taught your mom how to bake in the last fifteen years and Sarang had taken a fascination to it as well, so your protests had long since died down. Hoseok still didn’t understand why they liked doing it though.

“She finds it relaxing I guess. I’m not going to tell her to stop doing anything she enjoys.” He hums lightly, swaying you both gently from side to side in a rhythmical movement. It lulls you into a wonderful sense of calm and you smile, still amazed that this was your life now.

“How’re you? And is the baby okay?” His hands move down to gently rub at the bump protruding from your belly, the swollen roundness an obvious sign of the child that grew within. It was still odd to know that it was acceptable to have large families here and you’d quickly discovered after Hajoon that that was exactly what you wanted with Hoseok.

After a childhood of growing up alone with uncaring parents, Hoseok wanted it too. Which is why you are now pregnant with your third child, due in another three months.

“We’re fine. Everything’s fine.” You murmur, reaching up to gently stroke Hoseok’s cheek as you just enjoy the feel of him against you. Fifteen years later, he still makes you feel so safe and protected.

“Good,” He quietens for a moment, simply enjoying the moment with you before he kissing your temple once more. “Are you happy?”

Gazing out, you take in the sight before you. Your children are now playing happily in the sand, both cooperating as they work to make miniature sand castles with your mom. She’s smiling so brightly, happiness that you’d never seen on Earth radiating from her so strongly that it makes tears bank in your eyes.

Your father is still asleep, but the lines of worry and exhaustion that had long since plagued him had smoothed out, his days spent simply enjoying his life now. And then there was Hoseok, your beautiful, wonderful, amazing Hoseok.

The man who had taken a chance fifteen years ago when a woman had told him she was her soulmate, despite knowing nothing about it. Who had taken seeing colour suddenly in his stride and had plunged into dating without any knowledge of what was going on.

The man who you’d fallen so deeply in love with so fast and who had reciprocated so quickly in response, who had defended you and chosen you over his parents when he could have abandoned you so quickly. Meeting Hoseok had been fate and you couldn’t ever imagine your life without him now.

“I’m happy,” You whisper, throat tight with emotions as you feel your baby kick inside you. The movement is directly beneath Hoseok’s hand and you feel him grin, your own hand pressed lovingly on top of his. “I love you.”

There’s a brief moment of quiet after you say it to him, the words so common in your conversation that you could almost be mistaken for thinking there was no real meaning behind them anymore. But you mean every syllable that drops from your mouth when you tell him that, never wanting him to think that you don’t love him.

When he responds, you can feel the same unspoken weight of emotion behind them too and you feel joyful at the knowledge that he feels the same for you.

“I love you too.”

2K notes · View notes

paintoverthepain · 4 years

Text

It wasn’t long after Alex and Forrest shared their first kiss at The Pony, in front of everyone, they started to share other firsts with each other. Alex had been struggling with himself. He needed time to adjust to his well-deserved freedom as a gay man, out and proud. Alex was still taking things slow, but Forrest was a patient soul. He never forced himself on Alex, and gave him space when needed.

“You don’t have to go through this alone. If you want me to, I will be there every step of the way.” He once said, while he stirred his milkshake around absentmindedly, not taking his eyes off of Alex. Alex had appreciated it. Dealing with the death of his father, his abuser, at the same time as he was trying to get through to Flint, was a challenge. But Forrest had been there for him, and they had shared stories back and forth about family drama, military stories, early childhood memories, musical similarities, high school angst and of course, past lovers.

“So, you and Michael Guerin are like high school sweethearts then? Kinda figured there was something there.” Forrest had said once.

Forrest had a soft look on his face as he looked at one of the photographs Alex had handed to him from a book in his shelf. There were several photos. Some of Alex and his brothers, others with him and his friends. One of them was of him and Michael.

“You guys looked so happy…” Alex raised his brows and laughed slightly before shaking his head. He stared at the photo for another minute before placing it back into the book, and down into the box he was packing up.

“Yeah, I suppose. At the time anyway… Those teenagers in that photo, were naïve and reckless, living in a fantasy bubble, shielded away from reality. Now, I don’t ever want to hide in that bubble ever again. ” He replied and taped the box shut before facing Forrest, giving him a warm smile.

Alex and Forrest shared their first milkshake at the Crashdown only a week after their first kiss. It wasn’t planned, but Forrest had accidentally ordered a large vanilla and chocolate-swirl with two straws and a cherry on top. He could have sworn he ordered just a simple chocolate-swirl, but Liz had glanced at their table once and already taken their order. Michael had been sitting at the counter, sipping to a coffee that was slowly turning cold. He had forgotten all about it because he had been too busy staring at the two men sharing a milkshake and giggling about it.

A month later, Alex had been upset and struggling with nightmares. The weather had been gloomy, and soon after, it was pouring down. Forrest had arrived at Alex’s place at around 9 pm, soaking wet from the rain, and a box of Chinese in his hands.

“You’re soaked. You can borrow some of my clothes.” Alex had offered and headed to his bedroom to retrieve said clothes. When he walked back out into his living room, he stopped abruptly in his tracks, mouth slightly open. Forrest was standing by the couch, shirtless and hair still dripping wet. The droplets fell from his hair and traveled down his neck, down his chest and down towards his sculpted abs. Their eyes met and it was a losing game for both of them. They lost track of time from the moment their lips collided and their clothes found their way to the floor. Both nervous, but burning with desire for one another.

“Are you sure?” Forrest had asked, staring deeply into Alex’s warm eyes. They were both breathing heavily already and hearts beating faster. Alex wrapped himself around Forrest, feeling his warm skin on his, feeling his heart beating atop of his.

“Yes, Forrest. I want you… I need you.” Alex said, almost pleaded. He was ready, and he wanted this. He wanted to take it a step further with Forrest, and he wanted him. Needless to say, as the two men explored new and vulnerable parts of themselves, the Chinese takeout was long forgotten.

As time passed by, they only seemed to get closer and closer. One evening, Forrest had invited Alex to a fancy restaurant to celebrate their three-month anniversary. Alex felt spoiled, and had insisted on paying for his part.

“It’s a gift, so please, accept it and let me treat you, for once.” It wasn’t up for debate, and so Forrest winked at him, and took the check. Alex still felt guilty. He wasn’t used to getting spoiled, or getting sweet goodnight-texts. He also wasn’t used to having someone to write songs with, or getting songs or poetry written about him. He wasn’t used to shoulder massages after a stressful day or falling asleep in someone’s arms while watching movies. There was a lot of new things to get used to, but it was definitely something he could get used to.

A solid half a year had passed, and their relationship was only growing stronger. They were practically inseparable at this point, but not entirely. There were days when they would go to the farmers market together, with Buffy happily shuffling along in tow, and they would bicker about which vegetables were the cheapest or what would be more practical, writing your shopping list on a note or on your phone.

“Obviously it’s more practical to write it down on your phone. It’s much faster.” Alex argued while checking if the salad was fresh before putting it in the cart.

“How is it so much faster? You write down your stuff, and you can add things later on as you remember more things to buy. It’s way more personal and you have easy access to the note as you’re walking through the store.” Forrest tried reasoning with him, while holding up his crumpled piece of paper as proof. Alex just rolled his eyes while trying to hide his amusement.

“It’s the exact same with a phone. Also, it doesn’t blow away with the wind.” Alex quickly gripped the piece of paper out of Forrest’s hand, held it up to his mouth and blew the paper at his face.

“That’s cheating, you-“ Forrest was about to reach for Alex’s phone, where he proudly displayed his shopping list, when someone cleared their throat and spoke.

“Is the honeymoon phase over already boys?” Isobel had her arms crossed and smirked at them. Beside her, Michael rolled his eyes and tipped his hat further down his face. Alex pretended he didn’t notice and just laughed along with Isobel. Michael now regretted letting Isobel talk him into leaving the junkyard for once.

It was little things like this that made it into their routine. Grocery shopping, taking Buffy on walks, milkshake at the Crashdown, movie nights with too much popcorn, watching the sun set over the desert landscape, wild nights at Planet 7 and open-mic evenings at The Wild Pony. A year had passed and Alex still found himself amazed and in awe each time he woke up next to Forrest. He almost couldn’t believe that he was allowed to be this lucky.

To celebrate their one-year anniversary, they decided to have a few drinks at The Pony. Throughout the night, they laughed and reminisced back to when they first met in the barn at the Long farm, and when Forrest totally kicked his ass in paintball.

“You totally watched 10 reasons why I hate you before that date, am I right?” Alex smirked at him. Forrest playfully nudged him while trying to hide his flushed cheeks.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for the classics.” He replied.

The hours seemed to pass by too fast, and soon they were dancing in the middle of the crowd, singing and laughing along to the music.

Not long after Forrest had excused himself to go to the restroom, Michael found himself seated next to Alex by the bar. He had placed his hat down between them and ordered another drink. Michael had watched Alex and Forrest have a good time all evening, and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he needed to try one last time with Alex.

“You know you’re lying to him, right?” Michael said quietly while staring into his drink. Alex furrowed his brows and turned to face him.

“What?”

“He still doesn’t know about me, does he?” Alex just stared at him with confusion written all over his face.

“Of course he does. I’ve told him everything about us, and what we used to have.” Alex replied, but Michael shook his head and took a deep breath.

“I mean, he doesn’t know what I am?” Michael asked and tilted his head slightly. Alex glared at him, not knowing what to answer.

“I made you a promise once, to keep you and your family safe.” Alex began, but was interrupted by Michael’s scoff.

“Oh, so you don’t trust your partner to keep that secret safe. I bet it would be a whole lot easier to go on with your life not having to sneak around and lie about your confidential alien research.”

“Michael!” Isobel’s voice was harsh and disappointment was painted all over her face. Alex was pale and his fists clenched. He had to find and grip onto every shred of willpower in order not to punch Michael in the face.

After that encounter, Alex had slowly but, surely let Forrest in on some of the stuff going on in Roswell. To his surprise, Forrest had his own suspicions about aliens. He was a historian and a Long after all.

“Do you think you’ll miss this place?” Forrest asked. He had his arm around Alex’s shoulder as they stared around his empty apartment. Alex shrugged slightly and rested his head against Forrest.

“Not really. I don’t have anything attaching me to this place. It just became a hideaway. I’m ready to start over, but this time, I got you by my side.” Alex said and looked up at Forrest, who smiled at stared back at him with so much passion and love written in his eyes.

They finished packing up, picked up Buffy and got into the car. With one last glance at his house, Alex smiled back at Forrest and they drove off, on their way to their new home far away from Roswell.

#roswell new mexico #forlex #alex manes #forrest long #alex x forrest #jealous michael #michael guerin #malex angst #forlex fic

39 notes · View notes

beardycarrot · 4 years

Text

Alright! Now that I’ve finished Aliens Ate My Homework (kids’ books really are just a couple hour read for an adult, huh?), I have in mind some things that I think are important for the movie adaptation to stick to.

The look of the characters should be the easiest thing to nail... their outfits probably won’t match what’s described in the book (movies always feel the need to change that in some capacity), but I don’t really care about that. What I’m more interested in is how they portray the less humanoid characters. Pong, Grakker, and Snout can all be played by actors in costumes, but Tar Gibbons is described as having a lemon-shaped body with four legs, a long neck, and a turtle-like head with bulging bug eyes; that’s gonna be a fully CG character.

The other is Phil, a potted plant. Basically a big stalk covered in leaves and vines, with a flower where a head would be, who moves around with thrusters on his pot. He has a symbiotic relationship with creature called Plink, described as kind of a blue cat-monkey. I really like how this illustration portrays it; even if it looks more like some kind of cartoonie bug, I would be perfectly happy if this is the design the movie goes for. These two are also going to be fully CG, so unless they base it entirely on the description provided for Plink, base its design on an illustration from another artist, or just do their own thing with it, I can’t imagine them finding a way to mess these designs up... but who knows.

BKR, the evil alien, should be interesting. He’s described as having blue skin, pale orange spikes covering his head (I was picturing maybe a dozen four-inch-long spikes, but the spike density could also be interpreted as covering his head like hair), and... otherwise, looking like Shirley Temple? That’s gonna be interesting, but this is also the character I expect them to take the most liberties with. I can’t say why... maybe just from experience with this kind of adaptation.

There are a few major plot points that I think they have to adhere to. First, that the good aliens’ ship is malfunctioning (the illustrations portray the ship as a traditional flying saucer, but I don’t think the design matters much) and they’re stuck shrunken to two inches tall until the end. That’s... basically the only reason for Rod, the protagonist, to be involved. The aliens need to repair their ship, so Rod has to carry them around to investigate BKR.

Secondly, they need to eat his homework. It doesn’t have to be the papier mache volcano and math assignment portrayed in the book, but, I mean, it IS the title of the movie.

Grakker and Snout have an unspecified relationship... Snout is very, VERY clearly based on Spock from Star Trek (in fact, I think the third book in this series is called The Search for Snout, a play on the third Star Trek movie, The Search for Spock), so it might just be a close friendship, but they share a room on the ship while everyone else has their own, so who knows. At one point it’s mentioned that they’re “bonded”. Potentially Gayliens. I don’t remember what their relationship is like in later books.

Next, Rod is incapable of lying. There definitely won’t be a flashback to the traumatizing-to-a-toddler reason for it, but that’s Rod’s defining characteristic: he doesn’t, and can’t, tell lies. Who knows whether that will be included.

Finally, Rod’s dad having been missing for quite a while isn’t a huge part of the story, but it does play an important role. Him lying to Rod’s mom strengthened Rod’s inability to lie (you’re not told what the lie was, but it’s implied that this was the night he left), and towards the end of the story BKR claims to know where he went, and implies that he’s no longer on Earth. I don’t remember if this is a plot point in future books, but Bruce Coville did something pretty similar in My Teacher Flunked The Planet, so it could be. This is the kind of thing that adaptations will just arbitrarily change, though, so who knows.

So! With all that out of the way, it’s time to watch the movie!

...Okay, first thing’s first, the opening credits of the movie are set to shots of a model solar system, so I’m assuming that’s the replacement for the volcano. I’ll allow it. Also, William Shatner is in this movie? What? As who?? The only adult male character in the story is an android of a man in his thirties, and he’s only there for what would amount to two minutes of screen time at the end. Rod’s grandfather is mentioned, but only once, in the context of “this is my grandfather’s farmland”.

Alright, definitely a modern setting. I guess the model isn’t for a science fair, instead being something Rod’s filming on his smartphone with his mom, twin siblings, and... his dad. Now, this looked like is was going to be an adaptation fail, but it turns out this was a flashback to the night he went missing. Clever!

Less clever is this abysmal color grading meant to represent a dark and stormy night, and the fact that they live in a cul-de-sac instead of being out in the middle of some farmland... but that’s not that significant of a change.

For some reason the story now takes place in the winter instead of mid-May, making me wonder where BKR (in the guise of Billy Becker) is getting the bugs to smash against Rod’s head. More importantly, as revealed at the end of the book, most intelligent life in the universe is about three feet tall, which is why BKR is pretending to be a kid while hiding on Earth. Instead of being a foot shorter than Rod, however, he’s now taller. Weird. Rod also now has his cousin Elspeth staying with his family for winter break, for... literally no reason that I can think of. Elspeth is a character from the second book in the series, but she wasn’t even mentioned in the first.

Grakker isn’t quite book-accurate, but not entirely inaccurate either... except for the color of his skin. He’s supposed to be green. What the hell. They whitewashed an alien. On the upside, the dialog in this scene is all pretty book-accurate. Unfortunately, they lose a lot of points with Madame Pong, who is supposed to be a very calm, understanding, zen character... but comes across as a little condescending. Also, this:

What? What?? Why did they keep this book dialog, when the house is VERY CLEARLY part of some kind of housing development area? I legitimately have no idea what they were thinking.

I also have no idea what’s going on here. Elspeth is... I guess looking through family photos on a computer? Ignore the subtitles, that’s from a weather report on tv. What I’m curious about is what exactly is going on in the photo. That’s clearly Rod’s dad, from three years ago... but recent pictures of the twins? Did Rod’s mom, who apparently runs a pet photography business, Photoshop a family ski trip that never happened? Is that what’s being implied here??

We’re then introduced to the rest of the aliens, and... wow, I can’t describe my disappointment. Remember how I said Tar Gibbons and Phil would be fully CG characters? Yeah, that, uhh... that didn’t happen. I was hoping they would do as much of this movie with practical effects as possible, but I meant that in the “get good SFX people” way, not the “do everything as cheaply as possible” way. They’re literally both just guys in suits.

Yeah sure eye stalks and a thick neck are absolutely the same thing as bulging eyes and a long neck. More importantly, look at that clearly human body with extra legs just kinda hanging off the hips. Phil is just as bad. You can’t really tell from still frames, but yeah, he has two vines with leaves coming off of his human-body-proportioned stalk at shoulder level and moves like a guy in a suit... and for some reason, his flower is split into halves so that it can be puppeteered to move like a mouth. Despite the fact that in the book his flower doesn’t even play a part in communication. They could’ve easily just installed a light inside the flower and explained that he communicates through pod burps, and would’ve been perfectly book-accurate. Why make this specific change. Also, if you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering where Snout is. Yeah, uh. Me too.

Anyway, they appear to have combined the characters of BKR and Arnie into one person to simplify things (but then why introduce Elspeth??), and for no readily apparent reason, changed BKR, which is pronounced how you would expect, into B’KR, pronounced... b’car. For no reason.

Good GOD is this movie cheap. I appreciate the set they created for the top of Rod’s desk, with the giant pencil and such, and obviously they’re going to use a green screen for scenes like this... but it looks SO bad in motion. Like, see how the shot ends at his knees? That’s because he’s very obviously running in place, in front of a green screen. Also, why are sixth graders learning about the Drake Equation, which concerns the statistics relevant to intelligent alien life in the universe, in math class? I guess it’s technically a math topic, but not the kind of thing you’d learn in pre-algebra...and for comparison, Rod’s math homework consisted of single-digit multiplication tables, the kind of thing you do in like, second grade.

I’m also not fond of the degree to which Grakker is a comic relief character. Like... throughout the book, he’s completely strict and serious, and most of the comedy comes from Phil, Gibbons, and Rod. The first time you see genuine emotion from him is when Rod accidentally injures Snout, causing Grakker to hold him tenderly and shed a tear (again, potential Gayliens).

This is supposed to be the inside of a thick black canvas backpack. Am I crazy? Did I not see the Universal Studios logo at the start of this movie? Why does it look like the cheapest of cheap made-for-tv movies? Anyway. They appear to have given Snout’s ability to slow time to Madame Pong, which is worrying. Did they just... remove Snout, one of most important characters in the entire book series? To what end? To fit in all the stupid pointless Elspeth stuff? If they were hoping to make sequels to this movie, well... bad news, because again, the third book in the series is called The Search for Snout. Okay, I gotta know, is he actually cut from the movie or just a surprise reveal for later?

Alright, I am now officially dragging this movie. Also, I guess we now know where William Shatner fits in... I hadn’t even noticed it was him. Also Also, is that furry pink lump with one eye supposed to be Plink? Why all the arbitrary changes? Did they just decide that since they couldn’t fit a person inside of it, they would give it no limbs at all? Why is it pink??

Eyyy. Roll credits! Yeah, I wish... I’m only halfway through this thing.

They made Rod’s best friend Mickey Asian, which is fine, he’s a very minor character and never really described in the book... but unfortunately, they also decided to make him Data from The Goonies. He’s an inventor. Because he’s Asian. Coooool character, movie. So far it’s lead to an unfunny Coke and Mentos gag and an unfunny Pop Rocks and soda gag (which resulted in projectile vomiting). They cut Snout out of the movie to make room for this stuff, mind you. I’m sure this is building up to some kind of payoff, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to enjoy it.

Speaking of payoffs, there seems to be an implication that there’s some kind of paranormal activity at Seldom Seen, the hidden field on Rod’s grandfather’s property, and at Rod’s school. I can understand the field, in this version Rod’s dad definitely seems to be involved with aliens in some capacity, and that’s probably where he was keeping a ship or something... but the school is kinda inexplicable. Like, it’s covered in snow... and it’s the only place in town that’s seeing snow. I can only assume it’s BKR’s... sorry, B’KR’s doing, but I’m not sure why. Did they decide that being blue means he’s from a cold planet, and requires it to be cold wherever he is?

No idea what’s up with some of these changes. Instead of BKR’s house being like an unlived-in model home, it’s... a complete sty. The exact opposite of the book. Why. Also, that coffee table is completely covered in video game consoles... GameCube, Dreamcast, PS2, N64... but Rod says he’s got “all the latest video games”. Does he? Does he really? Was that line in the script, so the crew just bought whatever they could find? As for BKR himself...

I mean, I don’t see Shirley Temple, but it’s not bad! Rod wasn’t trapped inside a pocket dimension inside a CRT tv when he took his mask off, but they wouldn’t have been able to manage that scene with this budget anyway. So far, this is the only alien design I fully endorse. There WAS a point to him having a cherubic face in the book, but it’s never addressed, only implied, and I get why they would make him look more menacing.

In the book, BKR didn’t really have any goals. He just enjoyed being cruel for the sake of being cruel, and was hiding out on Earth because it was unlikely they’d find him there. In the movie, B’KR intends to destroy Earth by opening a wormhole (which is what’s causing the snow), and the good guys have about an hour to save the planet.

They kept another of Snout’s abilities, the Vulcan Mind Mel-- er, knowledge transferal, but gave it to Tar Gibbons. This is literally the only thing he’s done in the entire movie. For the record, this was originally the scene where Snout connects their minds, but Rod is startled by it and pulls back, causing Snout severe psychic harm and prompting the aforementioned emotional response from Grakker.

...They just had to get William Shatner to say Klingon, didn’t they. The climax of the movie is all him flying around spouting (sprouting?) plant puns, then Rod throws a banana cream pie (which was, apparently, part of someone’s science project) at BKR’s face... and finishes him off with foam shot from his papier mache volcano. I guess the shrunken spaceship expanding inside of a house, causing the roof to collapse and knock BKR unconscious, was too expensive violent for the movie... but why is getting him messy a solution to anything? Ah well.

Bruce Coville himself has a cameo as the judge for the science fair, which is nice. I think he might be the principal of the school... I didn’t really notice in the scene featuring the principal earlier, since that happened to be the projectile vomiting scene. I can only imagine he was honored to have his work recognized in this capacity... he’s a good dude, I’m sure he wouldn’t be as horrified as I am with the writing and quality of it.

Also the movie ends with the reveal of the actual size of the aliens... which is, uhh. About the size of adult humans. Hrm. Guess they just straight up decided not to get anything right, huh? Oh, and they reveal that Rod’s father actually is a member of the Galactic Patrol. So, that’s a thing.

Please don’t say that. God, was this movie bad. I would understand if they were passionate about bringing the story to more people and just didn’t have much of a budget, or if they made changes to better suit a visual medium, but that... is not what they did. I’m not the kind of person that demands an adaptation remains 100% faithful; if you want the experience of the book, you can just read the book. This, however, changes so many things. Like, in the book, BKR’s crime is cruelty. That’s the message of the book... that in truly civilized societies, kindness is the norm, and needless cruelty is a criminal act.

The characters in the book all either have depth to them or are interesting as sci-fi concepts, but the movie... Gakker is Mr. Slapstick, Madame Pong is Cool Collected Female, Tar Gibbons is... I dunno, wisdom obscured by things that just don’t translate into English and saying Warrior Science a lot (honestly the closest to his book counterpart, though HE was more interesting and actually did stuff), and Phil... yeah, just William Shatner saying plant puns. Bleagh.

Well, despite that end screen, it’s good to know that we won’t be getting any sequels. I mean, like I’ve already mentioned, Snout going missing is a major plot point in the second book, and the third is literally called The Search For Snout. What are they going to do, just skip to the fourth book?

...Oh hey, George Takei.

#aliens ate my homework #bruce coville #long post

5 notes · View notes

uman143 · 4 years

Text

Dream Journal 5

7/28/20

It has been awhile since my last Dream Journal post. In general I don’t use tumblr much anymore, sad but that’s what happens. But when I remembered this dream a few minutes after getting out of bed in the morning, I knew I’d have to write a post about it if I could remember enough. In my spare time at work I jotted down everything I could recall, about two strange folks I just call...

“The Sisters”

- There was stuff before the part I really remember of this dream, but I don’t really recall it and it’s not that important. It took place on a series of raised platforms similar to one of the trading posts you find on planets in No Man’s Sky. I have no idea what was going on there, there were a group of us, one of them was an online friend I’ve never met in real life and never dreamed about before. - So, on one of the lower platforms of this place, only a few feet up off the ground, there was a staircase that went from the floor of the platform, down INTO the barren ground, in continued, into darkness. I went down these stairs and had the feeling I was going down a long way. At the bottom is a long, long hallway, itself probably inspired by the long underground hallway level in No More Heroes (not the last video game inspiration in this dream either). - I must have gone down this hallway for a long time, but in the dream my point of view just zoomed down the stairs, zoomed down the hallway, quickly. It’s very very dim. As I reach the end it slows down, though. Things get brighter as the end of the hallway begins to come into focus.

- Something I distinctly remember about this is that the end of the hallway, despite getting brighter, was still very blurry until I got close, like even though I was the person that was there looking at this, there was something obscuring my vision. I could make out that there were two people sitting at a table, but only when I was a few feet away could I actually make them out in detail. - There were two women sitting at a very simple table, like the cheapest card table you could buy from anywhere. They were dressed nicely in old-fashioned clothing, like something from the 1800s. They had nicely done hair, but not much makeup on. Their faces were pale, but not lifeless. They were both looking straight at me, with their hands flat on the table. I could tell that they were related, and I got the impression that they looked somehow young and old at the same time. - We must have talked but I honestly don’t remember what we talked about. Thinking on it later, I think they must have had high-class sounding Kentuckyian or Cajun accents. I think the one on the left was much more talkative, the right sister did not talk much if at all. Their personalities were cold but they were not devoid of personality. It’s hard for me to tell how much of this is actually from the dream, and how much is me sort of adding it in mentally later. - There are a couple more things I distinctly remember about my interaction with The Sisters. About two thirds of the wall behind where they sat at the end of this hallway was just that, a concrete wall. There may have been some storage shelves there, with random unimportant things on them. But the right third of the wall was an opening where the hallway continued into complete darkness. This logically must have been where The Sisters came from. This sub-hallway was only narrow enough for one person at a time, it was pretty creepy. - The second thing I remember was that at the end of this interaction, I got up from my chair across from them, and walked around the table on the left side of it. I bent down, bending past the left sister, and the right sister, the non-talkative one, gave me a kiss on the cheek. It felt like a cross between letting your grandma kiss you when you don’t really want her to, and kissing the ring of the mob boss, like something ceremonial. - That was all I remember of my actual contact with them. But I also remember what must have been a return to that place, though I don’t know when I left or came back. I remember that at the other end of the hallway where the stairway ended, where there wasn’t anything before, there was now, next to the bottom fo the staircase, an alcove that led to a back area with a sort of workshop desk with tools and things on it. To the left of this desk was a metal door similar to the one seen in the mine area of Resident Evil 7. I never opened that door, but I did take a small Japanese-style saw from it that I later used, though its handle had broken off, to cut a rope that lowered a ladder on one of the upper platforms. - I also remembered seeing a cavern that seemed to be in between the stairway and the hallway. Even though I just said that the end of the stairway went straight into the hallway, now with this alcove - this is a dream, it doesn’t make sense. This cavern was big and high, and must have been lit from above somehow, it was not lit by torches. The stairs ended on a stone floor that went into a stone bridge over a chasm. Across this pit was a raised platform with two ramps leading up to it on either side, carved into the stone - think something similar in construction to the crystal cave from season 3 of Attack On Titan. In front of the ramps, on the sides of the platforms, were two huge statues of women. I think they were robed. Logically, these would probably be The Sisters, but I don’t know. On the platform itself, there were other statues, people-sized or smaller, surrounding a circular area a couple inches deep into the ground, that may have been filled with a very small amount of water. I don’t really remember what these statues were, but I think one of them was a mother holding a baby. This was obviously an altar of some sort. - That, really, is all I remember.

- So, this dream fascinated me because all the elements combined to make these two people (?) and the place they inhabited just incredibly mysterious, scary, and intriguing. There are several things that are probably only there because, you know, it’s a dream, but that thinking about it logically, could have some sort of explanation: - The Sisters’ hallway being blurry until you get close to them, plus them seeming both young and old at once, might make you think they have powers over illusion or perception. Once I received the kiss from them, I could then see parts of their domain I wasn’t able to before - once again, that is not necessarily what actually happened in this dream, but if you were to look at it like a story that DOES have logic behind it, that’s what you would think was the reason I could see these new places. - It’s also just the perfect mix between creepy and just weird for my tastes. It doesn’t verge into full-on creepypasta or SCP territory, The Sisters’ appearance in antique clothes in this weird bright hallway at this cheap table could even be seen as somewhat humorous. If I were to see a place and characters like this on TV, I think I myself would be impressed with how it skirted that line of being creepy without seeming like something that’s been done in this age where there’s a million spooky stories out there. - But speaking of things that have been done...There’s one very clear inspiration for The Sisters themselves that I haven’t mentioned until now: The vampire witches from the trailer for as-yet-unreleased Resident Evil Village (RE8). They also dress in old fashioned clothing, and while you can’t really infer from the dream what The Sisters might be, I feel like they have elements of vampires (stealing life force with a kiss?) and witches. There is absolutely inspiration there, but - as if I need to defend my own dream from accusations of plagarism - I think it’s original enough.

#dream journal

4 notes · View notes

kiiroitori97 · 4 years

Text

New Chapter for Domesticity: The Random Files

Chapter Title: Stars

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21612148/chapters/51761017

Rick really had said yes, but to what exactly?

“So, like, you like me? Like, Like Me. For the sole understanding to continue our relationship but with extra steps; girlfriend and boyfriend type stuff??

You were very much caught off guard. Where to go from here was the question now.

Rick thought your blatant confusion was rather endearing, and chuckled softly at you,

“Well yes, I think that's how it works. I think it's only proper that I take you out on a Date first though, right?”

Rick Sanchez was taking you on a date. Rick Sanchez was taking you on a date? Rick Sanchez was taking you on a date!

Shit.

You looked around your room. Rick had been very gracious over the past however long you have been here, and that grace did not fail in the clothing department.

You had obviously not wanted to take advantage of his resources, so you had picked out very practical clothes and very few accessories; after all, where DID his income come from? You supposed from his inventions, but WHERE exactly you weren't sure. A question for a later date at any rate, you had an actual DATE to prepare for.

You had never been on one; out of all the things Rick knew, he did NOT need to know that.

Looking through your closet and dresser drawers, you scoured for something decent; taking inventory of what was available,

Two knitted sweaters, two pair of jeans, multitude of socks and various but plain undergarments, two sets of pajamas, three plain t-shirts( 2 of which had rock band graphics, one being for Flesh Curtains) (What? You liked more than one Rick it turns out, just Zeta-7 was more your type.)

Your accessories included, a watch, some gold plated star earrings, a star shaped locket that you kept what was now your home address in, and a pair of knitted gloves.

You sighed, not much to work with, considering you owned a total of zero makeup products. In terms of cosmetics your collection mirrored your wardrobe. Nothing but necessities:

A facial moisturizer, a plain ivory bar of soap, generic toothpaste and the cheapest toothbrush you could find, sanitary napkins for that time of the month, and deodorant.

Frustrated you grabbed the watch, necklace, and earrings, gathered them up and selected a plain white t-shirt and the less worn of your jeans.

The Date was tomorrow night, and you wanted to get everything ready so as not to get in a tizzy when it came time to leave.

Actually; you didn't know where this date was happening.

That's an important part of getting ready, Rick has a portal gun, what if he takes you back to the Winter Planet or somewhere else cold?? Or what if it's somewhere summery??

With the goal of finding out where it was you were going to be tomorrow evening, you marched out to Rick's workshop and opened the door without even a knock, too focused on your mission.

“Hey Rick, where are we going to-”

Where was he?

You looked around the vacant room, glass beakers and other various science y things strewn about in a semi organized fashion.

Rick certainly wasn't here; but- but, he said he was working until dinner tonight? Where is he?

Utterly bewildered you reached for your cell, 'another gift from Rick', and hit speed dial.

Straight to voicemail. Hm.

Thoroughly miffed, you trudged out of the workshop and checked all the other parts of the house. Your investigation came up empty handed, and you were starting to worry.

In fact, you were feeling a bit like Molly Weasley; “no note, car gone, you could have been killed!” echoed in your mind.

“Oh crap” you said out loud to no one. Anxiety gripped your heart tight, well this just wouldn't do.

In this particular case the 'car' was the portal gun, and portal guns can be tracked.

Quickly, you scrambled back toward the workshop, rounded the corner of the hallway a little too sharply and hit the wall, knocking over a small picture frame. You ignored that.

You fumbled with the doorknob, having closed on your way out last time, and swung the door open and hurtled through the entryway, intent on pulling up one of Rick's computers and tracking him down.

However, as it turns out, you didn't need to track him down anymore; here he stood, shocked by your violent entrance and utterly dumbfounded when your face turned an ugly shade of red and you began to tear into him. Molly Weasley would have been proud.

“Rick Sanchez of J19 Zeta 7, you have given me one of the biggest scares of my life! Where were you?! I come in here expecting to find you working away on one of your projects and instead I walk into an empty room, then I call you; no answer, it goes straight to voicemail. I'm worried now, so I search the house, no luck, you're not here at all; now I'm REALLY worried! I go to track your portal gun and here you stand, right as rain. How dare you not at least tell me were you were going!'

Rick's eyes began to shine, and he looked appropriately abashed. He lifted his arms up, presenting what you had failed to notice in his arms was a plain white box, and meekly said,

“I-I wanted to surprise you.”

Oh.

Well now you feel a little bad for ragging on him, but only a little.

“Oh, well thank you. I'm sorry I yelled, it was out of concern, please don't cry.” softly, you tried to amend your outburst.

Rick, while still a bit shaken, smiled a wobbly attempt and gave you the box, “Here, open it!”

OK.

You took the box from him and gingerly pealed the top back, letting the cardboard lid fall to the floor. It was a dress.

A really, really, absolutely gorgeous dress. Now you felt a bit more than a 'little' bad for raising your voice at him.

So amazed were you, that you forgot to say anything, just staring at the garment and stroking it with a slightly shaking hand, Rick tore you from your reverie by shyly inquiring,

“Well, w-what do you think? Do you like it? If n-not I-I can take it back and you can-can come with me and pick something else out. It's just that, well, I know you tried to cut costs by choosing the most minimalist things you could; at first I thought it was just your style, but then, I saw how when we would go shopping for groceries or my tools that you would look over to some of the nicer clothes and look a bit sad, so- so I thought..”

You cut him off, “It has stars on it. Embroidered golden shiny stars, all over it.”

“Oh, well yes, I remembered your locket and earrings and thought it would go well with them.”

Now it was your turn to get all misty eyed, “Thank you Rick! Thank you so much!”

You tossed the box over onto the workbench and jumped up to give Rick a hug, and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek; before either of you could process what you just did, you snatched the dress from the box and dashed out of the room, down the hall, and threw yourself into your own room and slammed the door shut.

Holy crap, Rick gave you a dress and you kissed him on the cheek!? This was not how you thought today was going to go.

Tomorrow you were going on a date with Rick Sanchez and you were going to look good doing it!

#doofus rick x reader #doofus rick #rick sanchez #rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #domesticity: the random files

9 notes · View notes

preserving-ferretbrain · 5 years

Text

The Knife of Never Letting On

by Wardog

Sunday, 06 March 2011

Wardog says no spackles, no Irish.~

The Knife of Never Letting Go is the first book of the acclaimed ‘Chaos Walking’ trilogy and another entrant in the increasingly over-populated category of young adult Dystopian fiction. (Incidentally I quite like the idea of young adult Dystopias being over-populated, soon the lesser Dystopias will be pulped and fed to other less Dystopias. Or perhaps the lesser Dystopias will have to fight each other to the death for shelf space. Okay, I’ve played this joke now haven’t I?) Given that the key trope of Dystopian fiction is basically a sucker punch, delivered without mercy, there is an extent to which we must also accept that it is the nature of Dystopian fiction to be manipulative. However, The Knife of Never Letting Go is so blatant in its manipulations and so profoundly unsubtle in every conceivable way that I couldn’t, in any honesty, say I actually enjoyed reading it. I was compelled by it, yes, but that isn’t the same thing. When I

reviewed

the first two books of Daniel Abraham’s The Long Price quartet, I remember being interested by the portrayal of manipulation in those texts. What I found intriguing was the idea that manipulation does not need to go unrecognized to be effective. As applied to The Knife of Letting Go, this basically meant I “fell for” all its tricks, even as I saw right through them, but also that knowing I was being manipulated by the text made no difference to its impact.

It seems to me that the difference between a piece of fiction being emotionally manipulative and emotionally effective is whether or not you think you can see the strings, and how much it matters to you if you can. And this is, of course, a very personal distinction. It is possible to argue that the death of Wash in Serenity, for example, was effective because it was so shockingly cruel and arbitrary; I, however, have always regarded it as rather cheap, firstly because I have little patience for that sort of justification and secondly because it was blatantly obvious that by that stage in the film Whedon didn’t need the character of Wash for anything other than generating pathos. Because of the highly individual nature of such judgment calls, I feel genuinely uncertain about my reaction to The Knife of Letting Go. I am not unable to see its merits – and it is, in many ways, a bold and powerful book – but I personally found it cheap and frustrating.

The hero (or, more accurately, protagonist) of The Knife of Letting Go is Todd Hewitt, the last boy in Prentisstown. Prentisstown is a settlement on New World, a planet colonized by people from Earth seeking a simpler, less corrupted life. However, New World was already inhabited by an alien race known to the colonists as the spackles, and, during the inevitable war, the spackles unleashed the Noise Germ, a biological weapon that killed all the women and made the men and animals broadcast their thoughts to each other. This outpouring of thoughts, images, words, emotions and fantasies is known as The Noise. And Todd tells us:

…the thing to remember, the thing that’s most important of all that I might say in this here telling of things is that Noise ain’t truth, Noise is what men want to be true, and there’s a difference twixt those two things so big that it could ruddy well kill you if you don’t watch out.

One month before he turns 13 – the point at which a boy in Prentisstown becomes a man - Todd encounters a strange area of silence in the swamp. This, of course, turns out be a girl and precipitates his flight from Prentisstown. The rest of the novel is basically one long chase. Todd and the girl, Viola, reel from security to danger and back again, propelled breathlessly from one event to the next. But gradually they come to understand each other, and Todd learns the dark truth of the world he inhabits. And also important lessons about, y’know, identity and manhood and all that jazz.

As I said above, there is good stuff in The Knife of Letting Go. It is most assuredly a stylish and gripping book. Todd, for example, has a very authentic voice. Here he is, at the beginning of the novel, thinking about his annoying dog:

The first thing you find out when yer dog learns to talk is that dogs don’t got nothing much to say. About anything…Ben’s sent me to pick him some swamp apples and he’s made me take Manchee with me, even tho we all know Cillian only bought him to stay on Mayor Prentiss’ good side and so suddenly here’s this brand-new dog as a present for my birthday last year when I never said I wanted any dog, that what I said I wanted was for Cillian to finally fix the fissionbike so I wouldn’t have to walk every forsaken place in this stupid town, but oh, no, happy birthday, Todd, here’s a brand new puppy, Todd, and even tho you don’t want him, even tho you never asked for him, guess who has to feed him and train him and wash him and take him for walks and listen to him jabber now he’s got old enough for the talking germ to set his mouth moving? Guess who? "Poo," Manchee barks quietly to himself. "Poo, poo, poo."

And the characterization – even of the dog – is generally pretty deft. I liked Todd, and I liked Viola, who is just as tough as Todd, and smarter too, and the cute, noble-hearted talking dog was, of course, utterly irresistible. They other thing that is well-handled about the presentation of the characters is that their portrayal, along with the characteristics that receive emphasis, changes over the course of the book, as Todd learns more about himself, more about his world and more about the people who surround him. Equally, Todd’s relationship with Viola develops in a plausible way and the apotheosis of their friendship, when Todd realises that caring for someone is the key to knowing them, even if you can’t hear their Noise, is rather touching:

I can read it. I can read her. Cuz she’s thinking about how her own parents also came here with hope like my ma. She’s wondering if the hope at the end of our hope is just as false as the one that was at the end of my ma’s. And she;s taking the words of my ma and putting them into the mouths of her own ma and pa and hearing them say that they love her and they miss her and they wish her the world. And she’s taking the song of my pa and she’s weaving it into everything else till it becomes a sad thing all her own. And it hurts her, but it’s an okay hurt, but it hurts still, but it’s good, but it hurts. She hurts. I know all this. I know it’s true. Cuz I can read her. I can read her Noise even tho she ain’t got none. I know who she is. I know Viola Eade.

And, of course, since it is primarily a chase, it is an action-heavy and fast-paced book, through which a detailed world gradually emerges. It’s so fast-paced, in fact, that I felt almost exhausted by the time I got to the end, and there’s so little time to process the information we are given (when, finally, we are given it) that I can’t tell whether it was a deliberate attempt to make the reader feel as numb and drained as the characters or a genuine problem with the telling.

However, the fact remains that although I am capable of seeing what is good about the book I still couldn’t like it. The Knife of Letting Go is basically one of those guys, one of the ones you know is going to mess you around and treat you badly, but you just can’t stop shagging – even though you know better - because he’s so gosh-darned hawt. I’m going to go into some of my problems with the book now, and they are naturally going to be spoiler heavy. If you want to stop reading here, however, you can take away a reluctant and dubious recommendation for The Knife of Letting Go.He's a good lay but don’t come crying to me when it turns out the time he said he was at the launderette he was actually banging your sister.

To Say Nothing of the Dog

He kills the damn dog.

It’s very affecting. I cried.

But I absolutely hated Ness for doing it, not simply because I liked the dog – as I was bloody well meant to – but because it’s just about the cheapest trick in a box of cheap tricks.

It’s obvious from the beginning of the book the dog is going to die.

He nearly dies a couple of times.

Then he does die.

Of course, I’m aware that is something to which people will respond very personally. And I’m not saying there’s anything inherently wrong in doing things to cause an emotional reaction in the reader but I found it both manipulative and cowardly. Especially since in a text otherwise replete with violence and cruelty, having the bad guy kill the cute talking animal side-kick is little more than the fastest, easiest way to evoke pathos and grief without hindering the plot. Humans do die as well but in a very off-pagey sort of way.

Tune in next episode

The book ends on an enormous cliff-hanger. Such an overwhelmingly enormous cliff-hanger than it practically invalidates the act of reading the book. It’s the equivalent of buying one third of a season of Lost. Again, I don’t have a general problem with books being the “first in a trilogy” or even with some aspects of a text remaining unresolved at the end but The Knife of Never Letting Go is not the first in a trilogy, it’s the first third one very long book. And yes, relationships develop, dogs are killed, truths are revealed, one bad guy is dealt with but it’s all so obviously part of a more important, bigger arc that there’s no point in reading The Knife of Letting Go without also committing the next two. And I know there’s an extent to which you can argue this is a problem with trilogies in general but usually some attempt has been made to give the act of reading the first book some meaning on its own. For example, although The Hunger Games is clearly the first book in a trilogy, there is just enough arc, development and closure in the text that you could read it and stop. The Knife of Never Letting Go gives you a big fuck all.

Just kill him already

Given that The Knife of Never Letting Go practically makes an art of the unsubtle, it should come as no surprise that the villains are a manipulative politico who is trying to make himself figuratively into a God, and an unkillable, frothing preacher man who pursues Todd relentlessly for the entire book, getting increasingly maimed but yet in a manner that doesn't seem to hinder him the slightest. There's a very horror-movie feel to Aaron the psycho preacherman – the first few you times you think he's dead only to have him pop up unexpectedly, with another piece of his face missing, are genuinely shocking and scary. By the midway point, however, it's all become a bit routine, and the repetition of the device has not only dulled the tension it has rendered the whole process somewhat ludicrous.

For symbolic and personal reasons I'll go into later, the text can't permit Todd to kill Aaron, and therefore he has to be evaded and incapacitated in increasingly awkward ways. He doesn't actually get an anvil dropped on his head from a balcony but it feels like you're getting close to it. And as much as I understand the need for a book to define, and stick to, its own symbolic and ethical framework I also think there's a point at which not killing the murderous nutcase who has been after you for 500 hundred pages becomes an act of gross stupidity. It's the equivalent of the head cheerleader in a slasher movie hitting the bad guy over the head with a vase and running away, thus giving him time to regain consciousness and dismember her later. I know this is required by the slasher-movie narrative but The Knife of Never Letting Go is a roadtrip-sci-fi-western-chase-story, and consistently leaving Aaron alive to continue to fuck everything up not only strains credulity it strains the story.

I’ll tell you everything but first…

There is a lot of artificial deferral in The Knife of Letting Go – the truth, when it finally comes out, is pretty much what you think, but it’s withheld from the reader in ways that are as cheap and frustrating as you might expect from this text. I mean, there are actually scenes in which somebody looks intensely at Todd, says it’s time to tell him the truth and, oh noes, at that precise second they get interrupted by people trying to kill them:

He lets out a breath. “It’s time you knew, Todd,” he says. “Time you knew the truth.” There’s a snap of branches as Viola comes rushing back to us. “Horses on the road,” she says, outta breath.

Oh come on! Seriously?! This happens over and over again. Over-using an over-used device is a lot of over-use.

What’s even more frustrating is that Todd learns the truth about halfway through the book and refuses to tell us because he doesn’t want to wreck the tension…I mean… because he doesn’t know how to express it.

Again, perhaps I’m being unfair, but this strikes me a fundamental violation of the ‘rules’ of first person present tense narration. This seems to the de rigeur technique for young adult Dystopias, and I can see it has advantages: it’s dramatic and immediate, allows for an original and potentially very informal voice, and keeps the reader restricted to the knowledge and understanding of the protagonist. It also means we share the journey and feel close to the character, learning things and feeling things alongside the hero or heroine, which makes the inevitable sucker punch of “oh my God, all the time we thought it was like this but actually it was like THAT!” all the more painful. Ness really does milk this to the absolutely maximum, constantly pumping up the tension, and revealing snippets of information here and there, but I think doing this while deliberately denying the reader information already known to the protagonist constitutes a betrayal of trust and an exploitation fo the style.

Cheap, Mr Ness. Cheap. Cheap. Cheap.

Girls and Aliens

The Knife of Letting Go is a basically a book about manhood and masculinity. It is very much Todd's coming-of-age, not Viola's, and there's an extent to which the book just isn't all that interested in her. She's a decent character, in spite of this, but whereas Todd Hewitt grows, learns and changes, Viola Eade just is. Again, this largely a result of the fact the book is entirely told from Todd's perspective, and when he first encounters her, although he can instinctively recognise a girl, she might as well be an alien for all the understanding he has of her. And she is, of course, qualitatively different from him: she has no Noise, which initially leads him to conclude there is nothing inside her at all.

As a metaphor, I think it works. Just as in young adult paranormal romance for girls the seductive and dangerous otherness of boys is captured in making them a werewolf, a vampire or a fairy, here we have the unfathomable nature of the teenage girl to the teenage boy reflected by the presence, and absence, of Noise. However, the thing that troubles me about this is that it is a difference that genuinely exists in the book, and one that moreover defines all men and all women. The thing about the vampire boyfriend is that it's about one girl and one boy, making it a very personal metaphor about the inaccessible otherness of specific guys you fancy. Not all guys in general. I mean these books aren't devoid of awkward gender stuff either but it's a different flavour of awkward gender stuff.

But in the The Knife of Letting Go, all women are very literally Other to all men, and much of the backdrop to the rest of the book only serves to reinforce this as we see communities of men and women finding ways to deal with these differences which, in the context of the text, are absolute and innate. There are examples of healthy relationships (although actually the relationship given the most page time and thought is, I think, between two men, at least it's very strongly implied they're a homosexual couple) but the preoccupation always seems to be with the power differential of women being able to hear the Noise of men, while broadcasting no Noise themselves. This whole setup is grounded in an unquestioned Mars/Venus worldview, with men being essentially straightforward brutes while women are complicated and inscrutable.

It reminds me of something I read on the internet once. During a discussion of female superheroes on, I think, Girls Read Comics (And They're Pissed), one commenter, afflicted with a terminal case of Nice Guy Syndrome, launched into an argument that, all things being equal, women simply wouldn't choose to be superheroes because they're “too sensible.” This is a beautiful example of somebody being profoundly offensive under the cover of deeply respecting women, man. And I got something of a similar vibe from The Knife of Letter Go. Women are solely defined in opposition to men: men are violent, women are not, men have Noise, women don't, men are simple, women are complicated, men have to work hard to understand women, women are instinctively able to understand men, and so on and so forth. Defining women purely through opposition with men is simply not okay, not even if you're saying they're better by comparison. It's equivalent of the Victorian notion that women were spiritually superior to men.

And given what happens to the women of Prentisstown (yeah, the men all kill them), what The Knife of Never Letting Go seems to be saying is that some men simply can't cope with the inherent unknowability and otherness of women. Thus we have a moral baseline in which not giving in to their own innately violent nature and killing a bunch of women is the best that can be hoped for from men. I know there's probably an extent to which I'm over-reacting to this, but it seems to me that the Noise Germ is not a metaphor for the extent to which a teenage boy feels women are an alien species, but a metaphor for the fundamental differences between the sexes. Relationships form when we overcome those differences, not when we learn that those differences are largely invented. The point is Todd learns to communicate with Viola despite the fact she has no Noise. He never comes to the conclusion that she is not from Venus. And this sort of unquestioned gender esentialism was genuinely problematic for me.

Killing In the Name Of

Another unquestioned assumption in The Knife of Never Letting Go concerns the intertwined nature of violence and manhood. A boy becomes a man in Prentisstown when he turns thirteen and kills for the first time. Todd spends the whole book rejecting this notion of masculinity forging for himself an adult identity that does not involve killing. My problems with this are very similar to my problems with the whole Women as Other theme: situating yourself in opposition to something else is predicated on acceptance of the original dichotomy. Thus women are Not-violent, and Not-Noisy (it rather reminds me of the Renassiance conception of female genitalia being characterised by an absence – a NoThing), and manhood becomes defined by killing or Not-killing. There is never any exploration of the idea that killing, or not killing, may simply be irrelevant to either manhood or adulthood.

The other irritating thing about Todd's refusal to kill is that he only gets away with it because Viola steps up to do the deed when things with Psycho Preacherman finally come to their inevitable, if much delayed, climax. It's pretty easy to take a moral stance, or indeed make something into a moral stance, if it doesn't actually interfere with your survival, or day to day life. I could take a moral stance against hoovering tomorrow – the hoover is an agent of the patriarchy, and as a woman I refuse to be oppressed – as long as I knew Dan was going to keep the carpets clean. Also, it's more than a little bit irritating that killing is massively definitive for Todd but Viola can throw someone off a cliff without batting an eye. Again, we come back to the gender essentialism: men are defined by violence, women by their lack of violence, so if a woman kills someone it doesn't matter, and doesn't affect her.

And, finally, of course, for all this hoo-hah over killing the local fundamentalist, nose-less psycho, Todd does actually murder someone in the middle of the book. He comes upon a Spackle, and, having been

carefully taught

to fear and hate, reacts on instinct and kills the poor guy stone dead. Needless to say, once he realises what he's done, he's pretty freaked about it but everybody else, and the novel as a whole, seems to disregard it. At least three people tell him basically it doesn't matter and it would be fair enough to see this as a reflection of the prejudices of the setting IF we weren't also expected to accept Todd's new definition of himself as a man-who-does-not-kill.

Since killing only counts if you're a woman or the victim doesn't look like you.

Ouch.Themes:

Books

Sci-fi / Fantasy

Young Adult / Children

Minority Warrior

bookmark this with - facebook - delicious - digg - stumbleupon - reddit

~Comments (

go to latest

)

Arthur B

at 16:24 on 2011-03-06I've not read this, but it sounds like the "I ain't gonna kill" thing would bother me too. It's easy to be a pacifist when your good buddy will do all that messy killing on your behalf.

Plus, maybe it's just that I've still got Elric on the brain, but it seems to me that it's just more interesting to take someone who lives by a simple and extremely reductive rule like "I won't kill" and then make them do it in a way which they can't deny or rationalise away than to let them live by that rule and let them actually succeed in not breaking it.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 20:43 on 2011-03-06As you say, Knife is the first part of a long book, not a complete work, so having read the other two parts it's tricky to respond to your criticisms here - though I'm happy to if you'd like. What I will say is that the last two points are central issues in the series, and on Noise specifically I'd say that's one reason why it's important this story is science fiction, as opposed to fantasy - because in a science fiction universe all rules are local. In this case, as the presence of Viola points out, the distinction that obtains between men and women on New World is definitionally *not* innate, or natural; it's a consequence of this particular place. So I take it as a general metaphor for difference between men and women, as you do, but I take it very precisely as a metaphor for *constructed* difference.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 23:12 on 2011-03-06Firstly I don't like the idea that I have to read several books in order to "properly understand" one. I think a book should stand on its own - even if later books build on, and refine, what was initially presented. So if these criticisms arise from the fact I just didn't get it, I'm inclined to say it wasn't appropriately presented.

I don't mind spoilers incidentally - and I have no intention of reading the other two - so feel free to weigh right in.

I recognise that the Noise is a consequence of THAT germ and THAT place but I don't think you can divorce the specifics from the general by playing the "ah, it's science fiction" card. I mean he using THAT germ and THAT place to make more general points about the nature of men, and the nature of women, and the way they interact with each other.

The thing is - I can see your point, but to me it seems that it can't be about *constructed* difference because women literally ARE different in this world. They literally ARE unfathomable to men. And what we see through the relationships depicted in the book, as I said in the review, are not men and women recognising the fact that they aren't, in fact, utterly different, but finding ways to deal with the differences that are taken as read.

It's like Todd's relationship with Viola - he learns he doesn't have to hear her Noise to know her. But that's not the same as recognising that she is the same as he is.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 23:19 on 2011-03-06Also, I'm not sure I quite understand what this means: "because in a science fiction universe all rules are local."

I'm not a big sci-fi reader, admittedly, but generally I don't think you can look at ideas in isolation like that? I mean all fiction, whether it's set in an imaginary world or not, relates to the real world.

I mean, The Left Hand of Darkness is partially about what it would be like if you lived in a gender-neutral society but it's ALSO about our gender constructions in this world. If it was only the former it would be a lesser book for it.

And by the same token, I don't think you can look at the Noise Germ and say "oh that's only about what it would be like if women could really hear what men were thinking." Since there are plenty of people here and now, in this world, Ness among them apparently, who already genuinely believe that men are from Mars and women are from Venus.

Weirdly it reminds me of all those old 60s Star Trek episodes in which they tried to make valuable points about black people by using aliens as allegorical substitutes. No matter if the message is "we should respect these aliens and not kill them" you still ultimately have some members of the human race presented as green frog people. Which is not okay.

And I think it's a moral copout to turn round and say "oh no, no no, we're not reinforcing the otherness of human beings by associating them literally with a different, and potentially funny looking species, it's specifically about the political situation on Sigma VIII."

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 23:25 on 2011-03-06

in a science fiction universe all rules are local

Umm, according to whom?

Surely the point of science fiction is that it's in some way grounded in science, and surely one of the major defining features of science is that it's sort of universal.

the distinction that obtains between men and women on New World is definitionally *not* innate, or natural; it's a consequence of this particular place

Umm, unless it comes out in a later book that somebody *deliberately* went around and injected all the women with something so that they would react to the Noise differently, then how does the fact that men and women have a *fundamentally different reaction on a physiological level* count as a "constructed" difference.

To put it another way, I think you're putting the metaphor one level lower down than Kyra is - if I'm understanding you right, you're suggesting that the fact that men and women react to the noise differently is just a fact of the setting, but then the way in which the men in the world react to this is a metaphor for the way society reacts to artificially constructed gender stereotypes. This just doesn't seem like a coherent reading to me (whether "all rules are local" or not is neither here nor there).

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 23:53 on 2011-03-06I think the big thing here is that, yes, whilst it's undeniable that the Noise affects men and women differently, it's also undeniable that it works that way because Ness decided to make it work that way.

You can analyse the way the society he depicts reacts to that one way or another, but that doesn't change the fact Ness created a situation where they

had

to react to it. He made the rules of the game, and the rules of the game (as explained here) seem stacked to reinforce gender essentialism.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 00:56 on 2011-03-07

Firstly I don't like the idea that I have to read several books in order to "properly understand" one.

Eh, I'm agnostic. You're right, it's not unfair to criticise book one in isolation for being problematic for reasons X, Y and Z ... I just don't think it's particularly interesting to do that, when it's clear that book one is not a complete artistic statement, it's only a convenience of marketing and publishing.

The first key spoiler is that book two has two narrators, Todd and Viola, and book three has three narrators, Todd, Viola, and a Spackle. So the series continually expands its (and Todd's) worldview; by the end of the series it's quite clear that Todd's murder of the Spackle is a murder, for instance. (Although the idea of Todd as The Boy Who Does Not Kill continues to be pushed, if in a more problematised fashion.) The second key spoiler is that the Mayor has a cure for noise; the third key spoiler is that the other colonists turn up, they don't have Noise when they arrive but the men catch it, and they look into their own kind of cure. And it's also revealed in the third volume that women can be given Noise, although this isn't followed up on as much as I might have liked.

"All rules are local" was hasty and badly phrased. To try to unpack it a bit more, what I mean is something like: a science fictional setting implies a connection to our present, and in turn implies a universe larger than the individual story being told. There is always an implicit "things can be different." Fantasy settings -- or I should say, the disconnected secondary world type of fantasy setting -- are more absolutist. What there is of a fantasy universe is as much as an author wants to show us. There is no necessary connection between this difference and the political content of a story, but there is a connection in this case. Right from the start, the very presence of Viola seemed to me to challenge the apparent essentialism of the setting -- she *proves* that things are different elsewhere -- and that challenge is only made more explicit and thorough as the books unfold.

To address Dan's point:

It seems to me that there are actual biological/physiological/biochemical differences between men and women, and that a lot of real-world sexism is rooted in exaggeration and distortion of the importance of those differences. Ness is playing with that notion, speculating that there is some biological difference that is inconsequential outside New World but massively consequential on New World, and then progressively revealing that even in the context of New World it's not nearly as absolute as it seems, and that much of its consequentiality comes from human action and choice.

(I'm actually trying to remember whether or not the Spackle deliberately infected humans in an attempt to communicate. I think it's floated as a theory at one point but proves to be wrong? Or it may just have been something I speculated as I was reading the books.)

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 01:02 on 2011-03-07

How is that relevant? All sorts of works have ended up horribly compromised as a result of conveniences of marketing and publishing. Should we not point out that they are, in fact, compromised as a result?

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 01:13 on 2011-03-07That's why I'm agnostic. It should be pointed out. But I personally find it hard to care that much, if the overall work is coherent.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 01:15 on 2011-03-07Also, and entirely unrelated to the current thrust of the discussion, I meant to comment on this:

And say, yes, absolutely, this is very well expressed. I don't mind seeing the strings. I'd even go so far as to say I can admire a good set of strings! But Ness is very transparently a manipulative writer. The other two books in the trilogy aren't chases -- they're more of a war story -- but they're very nearly as obvious in their ploys.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 01:20 on 2011-03-07

But I personally find it hard to care that much, if the overall work is coherent.

Personally, I don't give a toss whether the overall work is coherent: if I have to wade through shit in order to see the coherence, I'd rather not bother.

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 10:39 on 2011-03-07

I don't think that's particularly true.

I mean yes it's obviously the case that a lot of science fiction is about exploring possibilities rather than certainties, but it's still rooted in a set of basic assumptions about how the world works. Star Trek for example, is based around Gene Rodenberry's idea of what a perfect future society would look like and because of this there is no room within the text to explore the idea that his society may be far from perfect.

To put it another way, I think you're taking an over-literal interpretation of the interaction between a fictional world and the real world. You seem to be arguing that because a science fiction novel is supposed to be connected to the real world, that we can therefore assume that the text encompasses and is aware of all of the subtleties and complexities of the real world. This seems silly. The vast majority of fiction is set in the real world, does that mean that - for example - we can't complain about 24 having an extremely trigger-happy attitude to torture, on the grounds that it's set in the real world, and some people in the real world *don't* have that attitude to torture?

I see that. Where I think we disagree is that I believe "women and men are so fundamentally different that an alien germ produces radically different physiological and psychological effects on people depending on their sex" *does* constitute an exaggeration and distortion of the importance of those differences.

Ultimately there's some room for legitimate disagreement here, but what Kyra is objecting to is the fact that tKoNLG treats the innate differences between men and women as something which *concretely exist* when she belives they don't (and I would happen to agree with her).

To put it another way: if you were to read a book about a virus which turned black people (and only black people) into mindless savages that went around raping and devouring white women, then I don't think you could really claim that the book was "exploring socially constructed ideas about race".

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 11:21 on 2011-03-07I think it's probably quite difficult to discuss Ness's book without, y'know, having read the book...

You're right, it's not unfair to criticise book one in isolation for being problematic for reasons X, Y and Z ... I just don't think it's particularly interesting to do that, when it's clear that book one is not a complete artistic statement, it's only a convenience of marketing and publishing.

Again, I think this is a complicated issue. I think providing a coherent artistic statement within the limitations of the medium in which you have chosen to make that statement is, well, it's what an artist does. And I don't think it's necessarily uninteresting to analyse a text *for what it is* rather than *what it will be* or *what you think the author meant it to be*; sorry to get all Barthes about it but I don't think it's my role to assemble the artistic statement. I think it's my role to evaluate the artistic statement as presented to me.

In terms of the rules being local - I think I get what you're saying but I'm not sure I'm on board with it :) I'd probably just be slightly wary, on principle, on trying to define that science fiction works like this, and fantasy works like that. I just don't think it's possible to divorce the story being told from the context in which it was written.

And perhaps Viola becomes more a challenge in the other two books but I actually read her as largely supporting the essentialism of the setting. As I said in the review, all Todd seems to learn that the fact women are inherently and absolutely difference is not necessarily a problem for getting on with them.

At the end of the first book the "truth" about the Germ was that it was a naturally occurring virus on New World. I don't know if this "truth" gets later modified.

But Ness is very transparently a manipulative writer. The other two books in the trilogy aren't chases -- they're more of a war story -- but they're very nearly as obvious in their ploys.

I'm conscious that my bad-reaction to this text was pretty personal. I mean the thing that bothered me over and above what I suspect was skeevy gender and spackle politics was the blatant manipulation. I guess that shows I have dodgy priorities but knowing Ness was taking me for a ride and didn't give a damn genuinely hindered my pleasure in the story.

Given what you've said here, it's probably for the best I've resolved not to read the next two :)

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 12:07 on 2011-03-07Dan:

I don't think that's particularly true.

Evidently. But we've been round similar houses before, and I don't think we're going to convert each other to different ways of reading at this point! In any case, the general argument isn't necessary for my specific argument about Chaos Walking.

Where I think we disagree is that I believe "women and men are so fundamentally different that an alien germ produces radically different physiological and psychological effects on people depending on their sex" *does* constitute an exaggeration and distortion of the importance of those differences.

No, we agree on that. Where *I* think we disagree is in what the argument that develops from the fact of that difference is.

There are innate biological differences between male and female human beings. (There are also intersex human beings, different again.) What's up for debate is the extent of these biological differences, and the extent to which they shape behaviour -- how "men" and "women" are created. I agree with you that the evidence strongly suggests that, in our world, the differences are limited, any shaping effect of biology is small, and on an individual level outweighed both by other genetic variation and by social influences.

What Ness has done is create a situation where a new biological factor shifts the balance. What he has not done is change the underlying perception: ultimately, there is a balance between social and biological factors, and ultimately the social outweighs even the enlarged biological difference.

Kyra:

I think it's my role to evaluate the artistic statement as presented to me.

I agree. But I don't see Knife as a complete artistic statement. The artistic statement as presented to you encompasses the other two volumes as well. Neither publisher nor author tries to hide the fact that Knife is not a complete work. (Put another way, it's entirely possible that we're both correct -- that Knife is problematic and that Chaos Walking is coherent.)

In other words, I read Knife as setting up starting positions, not making definitive statements -- I felt there was too much up in the air at the end of book one to say where the text was going to come down on all these issues. Although obviously I felt there were indications in the text about where it was going to go. On that point:

As I said in the review, all Todd seems to learn that the fact women are inherently and absolutely difference is not necessarily a problem for getting on with them.

I take "I can read her Noise even tho she ain’t got none" as a recognition that the difference of Noise is superficial, actually. But I don't think that's the main way Viola undermines the apparent essentialism, because we know Todd's perception and understanding of the situation is limited. What's important to me is simply the fact of her presence. (Which is where I got sidetracked into the general argument above.) Viola is a constant reminder that New World is a limited, distinct space, and that the constructions of "men" and "women" there are not universal constructions. (Which is a larger barrier to Todd understanding Viola? The fact that she doesn't have Noise, or the fact that she's from a different planet?) It's a matter of when the other colonists are going to arrive, not if. From my point of view, ignoring this is to divorce the story from its context. That larger context is part of the story from the start.

(I went to see if the Tiptree judges made any useful comments about why they gave this book an award; they often do, but

not really this time

I guess that shows I have dodgy priorities

I don't think so; as you say, it's a personal preference. I don't think there's a right or wrong there.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 12:48 on 2011-03-07

But I don't see Knife as a complete artistic statement. The artistic statement as presented to you encompasses the other two volumes as well. Neither publisher nor author tries to hide the fact that Knife is not a complete work

Well, no, it's obviously not a complete artistic statement but, nevertheless, in *being a book* it is expected to constitute one. Again, I'm not trying to define arbitrarily what a book should be but only reading the first book of the Chaos Walking Trilogy is *not* equivalent to, I don't know, only choosing to look at half the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It is kind of the equivalent to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel being spread across two different chapels, in different countries.

As I said, I think it's reasonable for future installments of a trilogy to refine on an theme or present new ideas, or a different take on old ideas, but equally if you want to argue that my interpretation of the events presented to me in one book is *factually incorrect* because of later elucidation in a later book ... that strikes me as a problem in the telling, not the reading.

Equally, an argument that you should read the next two in order to be permitted to have a valid opinon during discussions strikes me as simply another layer of meta-textual manipulation.

I take "I can read her Noise even tho she ain’t got none"

Again, I read the same problem into this as I did Todd's unquestioning acceptance of the binary of man-who-kills / man-who-does-not-kill. We're still always operating within the structure: man and not-man, violence and non-violence, noise and not-noise.

Viola is a constant reminder that New World is a limited, distinct space, and that the constructions of "men" and "women" there are not universal constructions.

Yes, but even in the distinct space of New World, Ness's constructions are still informed by the constructions of *this* world. It's all very well to *attempt* to write a story, as I believe he does with Todd and Viola, about a relationship between a man and a woman that is not founded on preconceived notions about gender and the relations between the sexes. I believe he fails in this - not least because I think Knife does reinforce the gender-essentialism of his setting.

And because as much as you argue that it is important not to divorce the story from its context, it is equally important not to divorce the text from the context in which it was written. Trying to do something is not the same as actually doing it. And one of the massive massive problems in trying to present a world without constructions of gender is that we are, of course, at the mercy of our own.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 13:13 on 2011-03-07

It is kind of the equivalent to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel being spread across two different chapels, in different countries.

I guess I just don't get this. The number of sets of covers is entirely arbitrary, as far as I can see. Plenty of sf books get split into two volumes against the ideal wishes of the authors (The Wizard Knight by Gene Wolfe, for example; Mary Gentle's Ash, in the US). It's almost routine for large fantasies to be published in one volume in hardback and two in paperback these days; the same happened to Peter F Hamilton's space operas in the US. The Lord of the Rings gets published in one volume, or three, or six. It's clear from the text itself what the complete work is, so that's what I tend to default to. In the case of Chaos Walking, clearly Ness did write to a publishing schedule that chopped the story into three parts. But equally clearly (at least, so it seems to me) that division is arbitrary.

an argument that you should read the next two in order to be permitted to have a valid opinon during discussions

Well, that's why I said we can both be right. An American reader who thinks the first book of Ash raises issues that it doesn't resolve is not wrong; but a British reader who thinks everything raised at the start of Ash is beautifully paid off at the end isn't wrong, either.

I'm not sure I see what you're getting at in the last part either, I'm afraid. I don't think Chaos Walking is a story about a relationship between a man and a woman that is not founded on contemporary preconceived notions about gender; I think it is in part a story that is absolutely founded on those notions -- that appears to embed them in reality -- and then confronts them and starts to break them down. So I'm not sure how my reading is divorced from the context in which the story was written; to the contrary, I think Chaos Walking is more consciously and directly engaged with the contemporary world around us than most sf I've read in the last five years. But I think the existence and origin of Viola, and the larger fictive universe she implies, is vital for that reading.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 13:25 on 2011-03-07

Plenty of sf books get split into two volumes against the ideal wishes of the authors (The Wizard Knight by Gene Wolfe, for example; Mary Gentle's Ash, in the US). It's almost routine for large fantasies to be published in one volume in hardback and two in paperback these days; the same happened to Peter F Hamilton's space operas in the US. The Lord of the Rings gets published in one volume, or three, or six.

Speaking with regards to

The Wizard Knight

and

Lord of the Rings

, though, although the individual parts are clearly components of a whole they're also (as far as I'm concerned) good and enjoyable reads whose flaws aren't sufficient to dissuade me from reading the rest. Sure, the individual books might not completely stand on their own, but they should at least pull their weight in maintaining the reader's interest.

Also, if I learned anything from Text Factor, it's that reading the first third or so of a work is usually a good pointer as to whether you're going to like the last two thirds. The way Chaos Walking's structured just leaves more tangible jumping-off points where the reader can stop and consider whether they want to keep going - reading the rest of the series involves buying or borrowing the next volumes rather than simply turning the page and continuing.

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 13:25 on 2011-03-07

No, we agree on that. Where *I* think we disagree is in what the argument that develops from the fact of that difference is.

Not quite, I think that where we disagree is that you view the "fact of that difference" as independent of the argument, whereas I view it as part *of* the argument. Or to put it another way, the book *might well* be arguing that the innate biological differences between men and women are unimportant in the overall scheme of things, but what I'm objecting to is the bald assertion that those differences exist in the first place.

I think we basically agree on what the argument of the book is, roughly it's something like: "to what extent does it matter that women are predisposed to be more caring, intuitive and non-violent than men?" Even if the answer it comes out with is "not at all" that doesn't change the fact that the argument itself is grounded in an assumption I don't actually buy.

You only get to ask "to what extent does it matter that X" once you have established categorically that X is the case. You can't write a book that's based around the question "how much does it matter that black people are less intelligent than white people?" and not have some people annoyed at the terms of the question.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 13:39 on 2011-03-07Arthur:

they should at least pull their weight in maintaining the reader's interest.

Well, there's no doubt Ness's books do that, pace the discussion about manipulation above.

Dan:

it's that reading the first third or so of a work is usually a good pointer as to whether you're going to like the last two thirds

Mmm. I find this is true for bad books, much less true for good ones. Which is inconvenient, I know.

the book *might well* be arguing that the innate biological differences between men and women are unimportant in the overall scheme of things, but what I'm objecting to is the bald assertion that those differences exist in the first place.

You can't possibly actually mean this at face value, unless you didn't study any biology in school, or are using "biological differences" to mean something very different to what I understand it to mean.

I'd phrase Chaos Walking's question as something more like, "How do we get past what the world around us constantly tells us are fundamental differences?" I can certainly see feeling like you're already past the point at which that would be a useful question to ask. On the other hand, this is a book written for a young adult audience.

(The idea that the question might be "to what extent..." actually made me laugh out loud. There's no way Chaos Walking thinks women are predisposed to be more caring, or men are predisposed to be more warlike. The war in books two and three falls along gender lines, and characters on both sides display the full range of human behaviour.)

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 13:42 on 2011-03-07

Mmm. I find this is true for bad books, much less true for good ones. Which is inconvenient, I know.

Do you want to cite a few good books whose first third or so are actually kind of lousy? Because to be honest, I can't think of any. I can think of plenty that have a fairly slow buildup, but even there quality shows.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 13:52 on 2011-03-07I can't think of any books that are technically incompetent in the first third that then improve dramatically. I can think of plenty that didn't click with me in the first third, or which seemed to be going in directions that I didn't care for, and then came around and ended up impressing me: Light by M John Harrison; The Prestige by Christopher Priest; Graceling; Acacia by David Anthony Durham; The Gone-Away World by Nick Harkaway; Justina Robson's Quantum Gravity series (final volume at the top of the TBR, so opinion may be revised again, of course) ... which is why I very rarely abandon books. But of course we run into the problem that "lousy" is entirely subjective -- I don't think Chaos Walking falls into this category, and I suspect most of you loved Graceling from the first page, whereas it felt awfully thin and cliche to me to start with, and only the number of recommendations I'd received induced me to continue with it. (And they were right, of course.)

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 13:59 on 2011-03-07I certainly wouldn't deny Knife is *interesting* - it's just manipulatively interesting :)

No, I know this - but I guess there are two different issues at stake here, one about the literalities of publishing a book, and one about the nature of what a book is. I mean I know one of George RR Martin's books got split into two because it was so big paper couldn't cope but that's not the same as how Knife functions as an artefact in its own right. I mean The Fellowship of the Rings is *entirely* readable in its own right - yes there's obviously a lot more to come, but, y'know, it has beginning and middle and end. I obviously have no insight into the publication of Chaos Walking, or Ness's writing schedule, and actually I have no insight either: as far as I'm concerned if you publish a book it should have some validity as a book, even if it's not a complete plot arc.

It's a bit like TV shows when every episode, and every season, does nothing but contribute to a wider arc - you feel a bit cheated, and the show feels shallow. But generally what happens in arc-based television (BSG, The Sopranos) is that you get a coherently satisfying story AND a contribution to a wider arc, and the way the two inserct is interesting and engaging.

Knife is all arc, and fuck all else.

This was a tangential musing - basically when Todd meets Viola he has never met a woman, never seen a man interact with a woman, and therefore has no idea what the relationship between a man and woman might be like. So there is an extent to which their relationship, as it develops, is (or should be, or could be) de-anchored from an established social or cultural setting. I'm not saying that this is what Knife is "about" - I'm just saying it's an aspect of the text.

I think it is in part a story that is absolutely founded on those notions -- that appears to embed them in reality -- and then confronts them and starts to break them down

Again, I don't really see that in action - to me I only see people working about unquestioned difference rather than breaking down the difference.

There's no way Chaos Walking thinks women are predisposed to be more caring, or men are predisposed to be more warlike. The war in books two and three falls along gender lines, and characters on both sides display the full range of human behaviour.

Again, I don't quite see that. I mean, how does that work with the fact Todd cannot kill Aaron because he must be The Man Who Does Kill, whereas Viola can. That seems to me to reinforce the notion that violence is central to the definition of man, but not to a woman. Equally what about the role of Todd's *grotesquely saccharine* mother, being all "I wuv you, darling, I wuv you so much, and teh world is beautiful and the sun is shining and I have a vague sense we're all going to get horribly murdered but no, that's not going to happen because everybody is fundamentally nice and the world is so beautiful and did I say I wuv you so much yet?" in the diary.

I mean Todd's mother's diary is the only authentic, unmediated female voice we hear in the whole book and it's practically a parody of the care-giving woman. I'm not saying she should be all "hey, you in my womb, i hate you" or anything but it is presented as this extreme opposition to all the horrible violent men going around killing each other.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 14:11 on 2011-03-07

I can think of plenty that didn't click with me in the first third, or which seemed to be going in directions that I didn't care for, and then came around and ended up impressing me: Light by M John Harrison; The Prestige by Christopher Priest; Graceling; Acacia by David Anthony Durham; The Gone-Away World by Nick Harkaway; Justina Robson's Quantum Gravity series (final volume at the top of the TBR, so opinion may be revised again, of course) ... which is why I very rarely abandon books.

But presumably even before they "clicked" with you they had you intrigued and interested enough to keep going, right? You didn't just keep slogging on thinking "I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this

oh!

Now I like it!", did you?

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:13 on 2011-03-07

therefore has no idea what the relationship between a man and woman might be like

Er, doesn't he have the Noise of the men in his village having blasted him for years with horribly distorted images of what the relationship between a man and a woman might be like? He may be aware intellectually that Noise ain't true, but emotionally and psychologically he's not.

That seems to me to reinforce the notion that violence is central to the definition of man, but not to a woman.

Two thoughts here: first, an expectation of violence *is* something men have to confront growing up; to that extent, violence *is* central to our culture's definition of what makes a man. It shouldn't be, but culturally, it is. Given that Chaos Walking isn't a wipe-the-slate-clean story (in contrast to, say, Graceling), that has to be factored into its initial givens.

Second, the number of characters increases dramatically in books two and three. This helps make it clear that what violence/non-violence is actually central to is the definition of *Todd*, and that Todd is not all men. (Equally, nurturing/women/Todd's mother/Viola becoming a narrator in book two.) I mean, once again I'd argue these things are there embryonically in Knife -- Ben is a man but violence is not a central part of his definition, ditto the guy who gives them a ride on his cart, and you have Hildy (I'm fuzzy on the names, but the woman Todd initially assumes is a man because she has a gun) and Viola to counterpoint Todd's mother for ideas of women -- but having more characters around certainly makes things clearer.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:15 on 2011-03-07

You didn't just keep slogging on thinking "I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this oh! Now I like it!", did you?

Yes, I did. Several of those were award nominees -- I wanted to see what others had seen in them, or at least have a fully informed opinion of my own. Others were for review.

permalink

go to top

http://wrongquestions.blogspot.com/

at 14:17 on 2011-03-07I don't want to interrupt anyone's conversation, but I just thought I'd point out that my reaction to

The Knife of Never Letting Go

was very similar to Kyra's, and that Niall and I had a very similar conversation in the comments to my

post

about it.

On the whole, I'm more positive towards

Knife

than Kyra and, if memory serves, a lot less positive towards

The Hunger Games

, which I discuss in the same review. As Kyra says, the success or failure of the novel comes down to whether its manipulation works for you, and for me Ness was successfully manipulative while Collins wasn't. I do think it's significant that the two sequels give Viola and the Spackles a voice, but that doesn't negate the fact that

Knife

buys into the otherness of women - I haven't read the concluding volume,

Monsters of Men

, yet, but

The Ask and the Answer

seems to leave the issue of the nature of women by the wayside. It is, as Niall says, a war story, and more concerned with how Todd and Viola deal with being prisoners of war (Viola becomes a terrorist, Todd becomes a collaborator). It's as if Ness thinks that having given Viola a voice completely addresses the otherness with which she's viewed in

Knife

, which I don't think it does.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 14:23 on 2011-03-07

Yes, I did. Several of those were award nominees -- I wanted to see what others had seen in them, or at least have a fully informed opinion of my own. Others were for review.

OK, I think this just comes down to personal tastes here. For me, if a book has me thinking "I hate this this is dull why don't you fucking shut up stupid author" for a third of it I tend to hold that against it, even if the last two thirds end up being good. No mercy, no second chances, an eye for an eye, blood calls out for blood, etc.

Sometimes multi-part works are structured that you can actually pick and choose what you want to take from them - see my Elric review where I tell people to ditch about three-quarters of the series because it's unworthy of the quarter that remains. Sometimes they just aren't; you can't just watch two out of the six episodes of the original

Edge of Darkness

and expect that to form a coherent and satisfying experience.

A friend once told me "If you put piss in wine, you get piss; if you put wine in piss, you get piss." I just don't have the time or the energy these days to slog through a book of which a third is made of tedium and dull based solely on the promise of good stuff being just around the corner; no matter how fine the wine is, that doesn't change the fact I'm being asked to drink piss with it.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:24 on 2011-03-07I'd forgotten that discussion! Interesting, especially since I'd only read Knife at that point.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:26 on 2011-03-07

OK, I think this just comes down to personal tastes here.

Indeed. For me it's more like acquiring a taste -- when I do these sorts of re-evaluations, it's usually not the case that I end up thinking the first third was terrible but the end was great; rather I end up thinking the whole is good, and I just didn't get what the first third was doing.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 14:32 on 2011-03-07

Er, doesn't he have the Noise of the men in his village having blasted him for years with horribly distorted images of what the relationship between a man and a woman might be like?

No, fair point. But, again, we have that sort of Noise if you like around us all the time *now* but it we also have specific demonstrations of relationships between men and women going on. I mean people see their parents before they seen pornography. I would hope.

Two thoughts here: first, an expectation of violence *is* something men have to confront growing up; to that extent, violence *is* central to our culture's definition of what makes a man.

Okay, now I'm really confused. Doesn't that go against the all rules are local principle you were stating earlier? I mean, yes, I do there is a perception in our culture that Men Are For Violence, and that this is somehow innate to being a man. But this looks a little bit like you're saying what our culture says about men is relevant to interpreting this text but what our culture says about women is not because of the specifics of the situation.

But, regardless, this continues to niggle at me for being problematic in that accepts the dichotomy as presented by the surrounding culture. I mean even though it is just the definition of Todd it is still a definition entirely reliant on the presence, or absence, of violence. Thus violence is still utterly central in Todd's understanding of himself as a man, and thus to the concept of men as a whole.

It never seems to occur to anyone that violence might be irrelevant. Or equally relevant, or irrelevant, to women.

And about Ben and Cillian - they are, once again, defined by violence or the absence of it, specifically they can't fight in Prentisstown to protect the women because, instead, they have to protect Todd. They're both - Cillian in particular - consequently shown to be quite messed up about this. Obviously Ben and Cillian aren't around very much, although I always kind of liked Cillian, so it's hard to analyse them but I think there's an implication that not fighting is not just against their moral codes, it's against their natures.

With regard to books getting better, this is an entirely frivolous point but I sometimes fear you (as in one, not you personally) get a sort of Stockholm syndrome if you force yourself through a text you're not enjoying. The thing is, if you read 500 pages of rubbish you hated, you either have to accept the fact you, in essence, wasted your time OR convince yourself the book had some value after all. There is something quite liberating in decided not to finish a book - although I'm not nearly as good at it as I would like.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 14:35 on 2011-03-07See, I take the view that even if I'm not sure what the first third of a book is getting at, it still shouldn't be boring or irritating me whilst it's doing it. And if you enjoy the first third of a book better once you know what's going on, that's an argument for letting the reader in on what's going on at the start so they can get that enjoyment on the first go-around. Life is short and time is precious, too precious to reread 500 page tomes to reappraise them in the light of something revealed on page 499.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:46 on 2011-03-07

Doesn't that go against the all rules are local principle you were stating earlier?

No, it's pretty much a restatement of what I meant -- that in setting Knife on another planet, with an intrusive reminder that it is only one planet, Ness is pointing out that the rules of that planet (and by extension our contemporary rules) are not the only rules there can be. That goes for the female characters as much as the male. I expressed myself even less clearly than I thought!

It never seems to occur to anyone that violence might be irrelevant.

Well, that's because they're not living at a time and a place where that's an option; life on New World is structured by violence, and you have to reject violence before it can become irrelevant. If you want to chalk this up as another example of Ness being manipulative, I'm happy to do that.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 14:59 on 2011-03-07

No, it's pretty much a restatement of what I meant

I have a feeling we're simply not going to meet in the middle on this one :/ But trying acknowledging that "things do not have to be this way" does not change the fact that Ness has essentially presented a world in which things are problematically (to me) like this world, and he has done this without any awareness of it. I think maybe it comes down to this: you think Ness is questioning the slightly skeevy gender essentialism of his setting through the Noise device and I think he is reinforcing our own ideas of slightly skeevy gender essentialism by the way he has deployed the Noise device.

Well, that's because they're not living at a time and a place where that's an option; life on New World is structured by violence, and you have to reject violence before it can become irrelevant.

Sorry, irrelevant to personal identity. My turn to suck at articulation.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 15:08 on 2011-03-07

I think maybe it comes down to this: you think Ness is questioning the slightly skeevy gender essentialism of his setting through the Noise device and I think he is reinforcing our own ideas of slightly skeevy gender essentialism by the way he has deployed the Noise device.

More or less, yes. I'm planning to re-read the whole trilogy soon, though -- I've only read them all once -- and I'll be bearing this discussion in mind when I do.

Sorry, irrelevant to personal identity

I don't think that makes much of a difference? I still don't think Todd the space or the experience to even consider that a possibility. Which may be your point.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 15:16 on 2011-03-07@Wrongquestions

Oh, you expressed that so much better than I did...

Actually looking Knife in the context of The Hunger Games is actually fascinating - for me it was very much the other way round, Ness was unsuccessfully manipulative, and Collins was successfully so. But, yes, that's largely personal.

I also think Collins got away with more because I glutted myself on YA Dystopias after The Hunger Games. I think I read that trilogy, and then Uglies (which I disliked - urgh), and so I came to Ness basically in a bad mood with the genre.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 15:23 on 2011-03-07

Which may be your point.

At this stage, I'm even starting to wonder what my point was :D

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 19:09 on 2011-03-07

I'm using it to mean "specific, biological differences related to specific, identifiable parts of the body or genetic structure *which account for gendered behaviour stereotypes*".

Obviously there are biological differences between men and women in the same way that there are biological differences between tall people and short people and as long as you define "biological differences" as being "differences that are vaguely related to the body".

Specifically, I do *not* believe that there is any evidence *whatsoever* to support the idea that the brains of men and women operate differently, or that men and women have different ways of seeing or interacting with the world (all of which many people believe to be literally true). The idea that men's brains and women's brains are somehow differently wired is as far as I can tell a harmful, essentialist myth.

I'd phrase Chaos Walking's question as something more like, "How do we get past what the world around us constantly tells us are fundamental differences?"

You see, I don't see where you're getting the "what the world around us constantly tell us" bit. There *are* fundamental differences between men and women in the setting, men have Noise and women don't and that's rooted in an absolute biological (and presumably neurological) difference.

Now you can make the argument that the book is interested in the ways such differences can be overcome in the face of a society that declares them to be insurmountable, but if what bothers you about the book is the fact that it presupposes the *existence* of those differences then that problem can't be resolved by declaring that those differences can be overcome.

I can certainly see feeling like you're already past the point at which that would be a useful question to ask. On the other hand, this is a book written for a young adult audience.

I think you're falling for the fallacy of balance here. It's not like there's a spectrum of opinions along which people must be carefully led lest their tiny minds explode. It's not like everybody has to start out believing that women are aliens, then gradually learn that they are aliens with whom we can communicate, before finally coming to the realization that they're people.

What Kyra and Abigail objected to in tKoNLG was the Othering of women - something the book very clearly does by positing real, pseudoscientifically justified differences between the sexes. This isn't something you can compromise on - if you say it's not okay to treat women like an alien species, and I say it *is* okay to treat women like an alien species, then you can't split the difference and agree to treat women like an alien species with whom one can never the less have a fulfilling relationship.

What it reminds me of a lot (and I think Kyra's used this metaphor as well) is the way that fantasy novels try to explore real-world prejudice by substituting some kind of non-human species for the minority in question. Sometimes this works, but nine times out of ten the non-human species is presented as either genuinely dangerous or literally inferior.

Basically I think the problem we have here is that several people are saying "My issue with this book is that it says X, and X isn't true" and your response seems to be "but it's okay, because the book says that X doesn't matter anyway." It's perfectly reasonable for you not to be bothered by X, or to believe that X is in fact true after all, but it doesn't really address the original issue.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 19:59 on 2011-03-07

No, my response is "I don't think this story says X." But I don't think I can put my case any more clearly than I already have, and what you're rebutting here is a case I didn't make, so we're stuck.

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 21:01 on 2011-03-07

No, my response is "I don't think this story says X." But I don't think I can put my case any more clearly than I already have, and what you're rebutting here is a case I didn't make, so we're stuck.

I am sorry if I misrepresented you, but I genuinely can't work out the case you're making.

The complaint leveled against the book is that it's extremely Othering of women. Your case seems to be that the book doesn't Other women because Todd eventually gets past Viola's essential Otherness. Or perhaps you're arguing that Viola is not presented as possessing an essential Otherness (except that he's forced to interact with her in a way that is completely different to the way he interacts with everybody else) or that the perceived Otherness of Viola is shown to be a social construction (except it *isn't* it's a concrete, biological phenomenon).

I really don't understand how you can take a book which has, as its premise, the idea that men and women have differences in their neuropsychological makeup which cause them to perceive the world in observably different ways, and argue that it does not support the common misconception that men and women have differences in their neuropsychological makeup which cause them to perceive the world in observably different ways (this being the basis of the "Mars and Venus" mentality which Kyra and Abigail both observed and objected to).

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 22:17 on 2011-03-07OK, one last try, since:

The complaint leveled against the book is that it's extremely Othering of women.

Aha! There are by my reading several different complaints leveled against the book in Kyra's post, and the one I was interested in defending it from is the one about essentialism, not the one about othering. (My first comment: "... the distinction that obtains between men and women on New World is definitionally *not* innate, or natural; it's a consequence of this particular place.") I don't think these things are equivalent or inherently linked; that is, I think it's possible for a book to be essentialist and othering, or essentialist but not othering, or othering but not essentialist.

Knife is clearly othering, yes. The viewpoint is male and has been raised to believe all sorts of bizarre and horrible things about women; the primary female character is an alien that he has to learn to understand. All given.

Where I start my defense is (a) this is not reflective of the totality of Chaos Walking -- indeed one of the points of the series is to break down such othering, per the introduction of additional narrative viewpoints and other developments; and (b) the othering is not essentialist in nature, though it appears to be.

On (a), I think we've pretty much gone round the houses in this thread about whether or not it's OK for a series to continue to unpack its world to that degree after the first volume; I think it's fine, I think the hints are there (as evidenced by my comments in Abigail's thread), many people here disagree with me, fair enough.

On (b):

a book which has, as its premise, the idea that men and women have differences in their neuropsychological makeup which cause them to perceive the world in observably different ways

This is not the premise of the series. The premise of the series is that there is a place in the universe where an otherwise inconsequential biological difference becomes consequential. In Chaos Walking men and women do not, as a starting point, perceive the world in different ways. A difference in how they perceive the world is created when men are infected by an external agent. That is, men and women

on New World

have differences in their neuropsychological makeup which cause them to perceive the world in observably different ways

when untreated

. In Knife, the "on New World" part of this statement is clear; in the later books, it is explored further, and the "when untreated" part also becomes a focus.

This is not essentialist because it is limited and modifiable and not defining; that is, it is not an essential characteristic of all men in Ness's universe that they have Noise, it's not even an essential characteristic of all men on New World that they have Noise, and the presence of Noise does not axiomatically mean that women become incomprehensible to men. What this setup

does

do, however, is create the circumstances for essentialist ideology to run riot -- as exploited and propagated by the Mayor -- which is how you end up with Todd's othering perspective. And also how I get to the notion that the story is asking us to consider how

resist what our world around us constantly tells us.

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 23:01 on 2011-03-07@Niall - Okay, that's somewhat clearer, I still think we disagree (although I should point out that I've not actually read the book, I'm just working on the details that you and others have presented to me).

I think this clears up a lot of the issues here: on the other hand, I think there is a difference between "this book presents women as Other" and "this book is about a character who views women as Other". I don't actually think you *need* to have one to have the other.

This is not the premise of the series. The premise of the series is that there is a place in the universe where an otherwise inconsequential biological difference becomes consequential.

I can see where you're coming from here. The reason that it bugs me is because while it might be an inconsequential biological difference, from my point of view it's this "inconsequential biological difference" which makes the whole thing essentialist.

The very fact that the Noise affects men and women differently implies, to me, that the book assumes that men and women are in fact *innately different* on a neurological level. Otherwise, why didn't the Noise affect everybody the same way?

It doesn't help that the way the noise is set up conforms *directly* to Mars/Venus assumptions about the way men and women are "wired". Men send out these big, obvious, easy to read signals, while women are much more subtle and opaque. The symptoms of the Noise really do seem like they were cribbed directly from MAFMWAFV.

Again, I don't buy the idea that the fact that all of this is restricted to New World makes a difference because, well, the story you choose to write is the story you choose to write. And either way, what bugs me about the whole Noise setup is not the (local) effects of the noise on the population of New World but rather the (universal) principle that the Noise affects men one way and women another, in such a way that it dovetails with conventional stereotypes about masculinity and femininity.

Again, and sorry to keep using race analogies but I really think they highlight the problem, if the Noise had the effect of turning black people and only black people into violent maniacs, I don't think you could legitimately argue that it wasn't racist on the grounds that the Noise was a local phenomenon.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 23:43 on 2011-03-07

rather the (universal) principle that the Noise affects men one way and women another

From my second comment: "And it's also revealed in the third volume that women can be given Noise, although this isn't followed up on as much as I might have liked." By which I mean that we get the theoretical discussion, but not an actual demonstration. Anyway, the upshot is that it's not impossible in women. Sex differentials in infection and disease rates are reasonably common; Noise is exaggeratedly one-sided, but not unprecedented.

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 12:13 on 2011-03-08

Sex differentials in infection and disease rates are reasonably common; Noise is exaggeratedly one-sided, but not unprecedented.

But still exaggerated.

Again I think what bugs a lot of people is that Ness ultimately chose to explore his ideas about masculinity through a metaphor which unnecessarily exaggerates the differences between men and women.

This gets into counter-factual criticism, but there was ultimately no reason for Ness' misogynistic, gender-segregated society to have had its basis in an observable biological difference, there was no reason for Viola to feel so *innately* alien to Todd (as you observe further up - she's already from another planet, the fact that she also has no Noise isn't really here or there). If what Ness was really interested in was exploring *purely socially constructed* gender differences, it seems like a peculiar and ultimately unsuccessful way to do it.

Again I can see that if you come at this from a pure-sf "well that's just how it is in that universe" perspective then, well, that's just how it is in that universe. It's just that I feel authors can still be held responsible for the facts of their fictional realities.

permalink

go to top

Andy G

at 13:10 on 2011-03-08I'm reminded a bit of what Daniel Abrahams said in the interview Kyra linked to in the Playpen:

"Wherever the story is set, it’s going to be read here, by folks in this era and culture. If you have your made-up magical race have black skin and live in slavery, you’re going to be talking about the history of the American south whether you mean to or not. It doesn’t matter if the perfect thing for the story I’m writing is to have gigantic phoenixes throw themselves into the High Towers of Khathe. It’s going to read like a 9/11 comment. If it isn’t, it’s got to go."

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 13:30 on 2011-03-08Are we now disagreeing about the definition of "purely"? I don't think the gender stereotypes that obtain in our society are "purely socially constructed". I think, as I said upthread, that they are often rooted in exaggeration and distortion of the significance of biological differences. That means, to me, that biology is a component of their construction. It doesn't mean the biology is significant or explanatory.

To go back to what you said earlier about biological difference:

I'm using it to mean "specific, biological differences related to specific, identifiable parts of the body or genetic structure *which account for gendered behaviour stereotypes*".

I'm not. I'm using it to mean actual biological difference. Difference in reproductive system, hormone balance, all that. "Which account for gendered behaviour stereotypes" is social construction being placed on top of biological difference.

So to my mind, the mechanism at work in the construction of difference in Chaos Walking is the same as the mechanism at work in the construction of difference in our world. It is necessary that it involve exaggeration of our stereotypes [1], and it is necessary that there be a biological difference at the root of it.

[1] Although to be honest I think mapping it straight on to "Men send out these big, obvious, easy to read signals, while women are much more subtle and opaque" is an oversimplification. There are times early on when that's how the relationship plays, certainly; there are also times, more and more once Todd has learned that Viola is not after all inscrutable, when it plays as an

inversion

of another relationship trope, that of the taciturn man and the garrulous woman. And then there are times when Todd

the taciturn one, because his Noise is switched off; and times when Todd finds Viola utterly transparent and ... you get the point. They both occupy a lot of positions in relation to each other, and while those positions are shaped by Noise, they are not defined by it in a straightforward way.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 13:31 on 2011-03-08Andy: oh, hell yes. Per

this review

, on the racial point, "just because Ness is confronting civil war doesn't mean he is afraid to address genocide and slavery as well. He is facing the whole of American history head on."

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 13:50 on 2011-03-08

I don't think the gender stereotypes that obtain in our society are "purely socially constructed". I think, as I said upthread, that they are often rooted in exaggeration and distortion of the significance of biological differences.

Really? If you think it is true of some but not others (which is the implication I'm taking from the use of the term "often"), which do you think it is true of?

Also, do you think this is specifically true of gender stereotypes, or is it also the case with (for example) racial stereotypes, or stereotypes about sexuality?

I ask because, as Dan's pointed out in an article which I can't find right now, it's easy to get lulled into believing the old "no smoke without fire" line and convincing yourself that stereotypes tend to be based on real trends and tendencies which they just exaggerate and distort, when in fact a lot of the time they're just demonstrably false.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:00 on 2011-03-08

Really? If you think it is true of some but not others (which is the implication I'm taking from the use of the term "often"), which do you think it is true of?

Women are weak because they menstruate. Women are nurturing because they bear children.

Also, do you think this is specifically true of gender stereotypes, or is it also the case with (for example) racial stereotypes, or stereotypes about sexuality?

Of course. Black people are monstrous because their skin is a different colour. Homosexual people are deviant because they are less common than heterosexual people.

convincing yourself that stereotypes tend to be based on real trends and tendencies which they just exaggerate and distort, when in fact a lot of the time they're just demonstrably false.

If it would help to make things clearer, feel free to substitute "lying about" for "exaggerating and distorting"; less nuance, but same basic meaning. All of the statements above are lies; they have inserted a socially constructed judgement into a biologically descriptive sentence.

As I already said, the fact that there is a biological difference at the root of a stereotype does not mean the biological difference is significant or explanatory; in your terms, it does not mean there is a real trend or tendency, just that there is a difference that by malice and ignorance can be mythologised into prejudice.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 14:05 on 2011-03-08

Women are weak because they menstruate. Women are nurturing because they bear children. ... Black people are monstrous because their skin is a different colour. Homosexual people are deviant because they are less common than heterosexual people.

Yeah, I think these are all examples of "blatant lying" as opposed to "exaggerating and distorting". The latter implies a connection to reality which just ain't there.

So, what's the biological difference between heterosexuals and homosexuals?

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 14:12 on 2011-03-08Sorry to double post but I wanted to make clear why I meant by asking that:

Declaring that all of these stereotypes are somehow

caused by

the empirical facts cited to support them is dangerous. Again, it suggests the whole "no smoke without fire" thing. Sometimes - often, I'd say - stereotypes have no root cause aside from people's natural tendency to be abhorrent to each other. It was convenient to white people to believe that black people were monstrous brutes because that meant that there was no reason to feel guilty about enslaving them. It is convenient for homophobes to believe that gay people are fuck-crazed moral deviants because that makes it OK to object to them on the basis of who they choose to have sex with. It is convenient for men to believe that women are soft and nurturing and best off staying at home looking after kids because then it's OK to keep them at home and shut them out of important stuff like war and business and politics.

Stereotypes didn't come about because men, or white people, or straight people were stupid and had to come up with simplistic little rules to get their heads around the idea of "ladies" or "foreigners" or "homosexuals". They came about because people are awfully clever at coming up with ways to feel better about the terrible shit they do.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:15 on 2011-03-08

The latter implies a connection to reality which just ain't there.

I disagree. A lie still has a connection to reality. But now we really are into semantics!

So, what's the biological difference between heterosexuals and homosexuals?

God knows, given the mess that is current research on the topic, but I'd be amazed if there isn't one. Probably not a straightforward one, though -- my bet would be on a complex of genetic factors that, given certain environmental conditions, predispose to homosexuality. But you're right, my example there is actually a lie based on differing phenotype, not on differing biology.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:18 on 2011-03-08

Declaring that all of these stereotypes are somehow caused by the empirical facts cited to support them is dangerous.

That would be why I didn't do that. (To go back to Chaos Walking, Noise isn't

caused by

whatever the permissive biological difference between men and women is; it's caused by a germ native to New World.) But in their pursuit of ways to feel better about the terrible shit they do, I do believe people have a tendency to latch on to visible difference, which is often biological difference.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 14:20 on 2011-03-08

Andy: oh, hell yes. Per this review, on the racial point, "just because Ness is confronting civil war doesn't mean he is afraid to address genocide and slavery as well. He is facing the whole of American history head on."

Um... Daniel Abraham being TOTALLY COOL AND AWESOME BECAUSE HE JUST IS AND I WUV HIM does not somehow miraculously apply to Ness. Unless by "facing the whole of American history head on" the reviewer meant "embraces the idea that killing only counts if you kill someone the same colour as you."

Also quoting a reviewer who happens to agree with you does not actually address the criticisms raised here.

You've said that it is later emphasised that Todd killing the Spackle is *murder* - but this cannot be the case if the text simultaneously reinforces, and approves, Todd's self-definition as a man-who-does-not-kill.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:26 on 2011-03-08

Sure it can. Acknowledging you are a man-who-has-killed doesn't mean you can't aspire to be a man-who-does-not-kill.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 14:29 on 2011-03-08

I disagree. A lie still has a connection to reality.

Only in the sense that it's contrary to reality though. The point is that so many stereotypes have no basis in fact at all, they're pure fictions. It's when people are challenged at them that they start crawling towards the facts to try to cobble together a justification (and even then they usually have to mangle the facts extra hard to do so).

But in their pursuit of ways to feel better about the terrible shit they do, I do believe people have a tendency to latch on to visible difference, which is often biological difference.

I think you have the sequence of events almost entirely wrong. I think it goes like this (to use the "Women are weak because they menstruate" argument as an example):

- Men suppress women.

- Men declare that this is the right thing to do because women are the weaker sex.

- People ask men what basis they have for declaring women the weaker sex.

- Men um and ah a bit and then say "Well, they menstruate!"

Either way, I think the stereotype comes first, and then the perceived explanation for the stereotype comes in later. You seem to be suggesting that the perceived explanation for the stereotype precedes the stereotype, which would imply that people were actively looking for a question ("Why do we believe this stereotype in the first place?") which couldn't have been asked yet because the stereotype hadn't arisen yet.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 14:40 on 2011-03-08

Sure it can. Acknowledging you are a man-who-has-killed doesn't mean you can't aspire to be a man-who-does-not-kill.

But it's not a question of aspiration is it? He doesn't go around self-defining as "a man who will try very hard not to kill again."

Also can you two stop bickering about definitions of lies or whatever - I'd actually like to talk about the text.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:42 on 2011-03-08

You seem to be suggesting that the perceived explanation for the stereotype precedes the stereotype

On evolutionary timescales, of course it does. Menstruation precedes patriarchy. As to how the two became intertwined, I doubt it was a linear process, but I really have no idea, and I don't know what research exists on the topic -- would be interested in pointers, though.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 14:51 on 2011-03-08

He doesn't go around self-defining as "a man who will try very hard not to kill again."

He goes back and forth and up and down and side to side on his position in relationship to killing, over the course of Chaos Walking. At various points he is a man who has not killed, a man who has killed, a man who cannot choose to kill, a man who wants to kill, and a man who does not want to kill. And probably other things as well.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 14:55 on 2011-03-08Fair enough, but the presentation of the event during the first book is still relevant for discussion I think. Also I think the fact it is portrayed as being *open to question* is mildly problematic anyway - but then I can't comment on the relationship between Todd's position and the text's position without reading the books. Nor is that something someone else can tell me.

Regardless we're going round in circles.

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 17:29 on 2011-03-08@Kyra

Also I think the fact it is portrayed as being *open to question* is mildly problematic

Just pitching in to say that this is often a problem I have with this sort of text. It's sort of like the "teach the controversy" thing that you get from Creationists: a lot of time merely implying that there exists room for doubt about something is too great a compromise.

It's a problem I often have when a book seems to be asking "to what extent X?" when my personal answer is "no X, at all" or "all X, always."

@Niall

Are we now disagreeing about the definition of "purely"? I don't think the gender stereotypes that obtain in our society are "purely socially constructed". I think, as I said upthread, that they are often rooted in exaggeration and distortion of the significance of biological differences.

This is pretty much where we hit the "teach the controversy" problem. I do, in fact, believe that gender stereotypes are purely socially constructed. I do not believe that stereotypes about men and women (or black people and white people, or straight people and gay people) have any grounding in biology *whatsoever*.

I also think that part of the problem here is that you aren't doing well at distinguishing between *exaggeration* and *fabrication* when there's actually a very big difference.

One of the examples you give of an "exaggeration based on a real biological difference" is "black people are monstrous because they have dark skin". I sincerely hope that *exaggeration* is not the word you mean to use here. If it is, then that implies to me that you believe that the dark skin of black people makes them *a little bit* monstrous (or at least less attractive than white people) and that racisim consists of *exaggerating* the monstrousness of that dark skin.

Assuming that isn't what you mean (and I certainly hope it isn't) then you *aren't* looking at steretypes being based on real biological differences. You're looking at stereotypes being based on *nothing at all* and then justified by *post hoc reference* to biological differences. There is a really important difference between these two things.

Again, sorry to bring this back to race analogies, but I think it helps get our point across.

Suppose the narrative of the book had been as follows:

- The Noise makes all the black people devolve into bulging-eyed bloodthirsty savages.

- The white people respond by rounding up all the black people and enslaving them.

- Our hero makes friends with a black person, and finds that although they have bulging eyes and are quite bloodthirsty, they can never the less have a real human relationship.

- We discover that some Bad White People have a cure for the noise, but are deliberately keeping the Black People in their degenerate state in order to continue using them as slave labour.

Now the thing is, I can absolutely see how this would look to some people like a heartwarming pean against racism, an analysis, in fact, of the way in which society exaggerates the importance of superficial differences between the races. On the other hand, a lot of people would read it as being grounded in some creepy, racist assumptions about the innate savagery of black people and I don't think "but it's specifially only caused by the virus" really helps matters.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 17:33 on 2011-03-08

I think it helps get our point across.

I think it just makes it clearer that you haven't read the books, and that I'm apparently incapable of expressing myself. Kyra's right, we're going round in circles. Sorry. :-(

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 22:22 on 2011-03-08

I think it just makes it clearer that you haven't read the books

Perhaps, but since what we're arguing here is a general point I'm not convinced it matters.

Several people (including *you*) observe that the Noise exaggerates commonly perceived differences between men and women. You argue that this is okay, on the grounds that these differences are shown to be unimportant and, ultimately, to be created artificially by a virus which can be cured anyway (and possibly also by society).

I simply attempted to construct an analogy which would apply the same principle to one of the other "exaggerated biological differences" which, again, you yourself identified (the perceived monstrousness of black people). My hypothetical plot summary includes pretty much all of the elements which you insist make Chaos Walking into an interesting deconstruction of socially enforced difference, yet somehow it still comes across as *really quite racist*.

The thing is I can genuinely see how Planet of the Zombie Slaves could be defended as a condemnation of racism, or an exploration of the ways in which people justify slavery. It might even *be* that to a lot of people, but a lot of people are still going to react badly to the central metaphor because no matter how externally enforced, locally contained, or artificial your exaggerated difference is, there is a point at the beginning of your story in which an offensive stereotype is the literal truth.

What I find most bizarre about this whole thing is that you admit yourself that The Knife of Never Letting Go is grounded in an intense Othering of women, which is sort of the central complaint anyway. The question of whether its Othering can technically be called "essentialist" is irrelevant, the question of whether it gets better later is irrelevant, the fact that it later includes a female viewpoint character is irrelevant. The fact that people think the books are good or that it won an award is irrelevant.

Nobody is saying this makes them bad books, just that it's a thing which bothers some people (most of them, funnily enough, women). It's perfectly okay for you to say that it didn't bother you, but you seem to have spent a long time arguing that people who *are* bothered by it are just wrong.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 09:01 on 2011-03-09

"exaggerated biological differences"

Please stop putting things in quotes that I didn't say. I didn't say this; I didn't say "exaggeration based on a real biological difference", as you put in your previous comment. I wrote "exaggeration and distortion of the importance [later I said significance] of [biological] differences." The

and distortion

is important to my meaning. The

the importance of

is important to my meaning. That is, I am talking about biological differences that are unimportant, but get distorted to seem important; and I am talking about exaggeration of those distortions. That is, as I have already said to Arthur but which you seem intent on ignoring, I am talking about lies.

The question of whether its Othering can technically be called "essentialist" is irrelevant

I don't think it is. Kyra's original argument was that the Othering led directly to "unquestioned gender essentialism". I think there are grounds for disagreeing with that reading -- of Knife on its own, but more strongly through the rest of the trilogy -- i.e. that there are broad hints that women are neither Other nor essentially different than men which become the actuality of the text later on -- and I've been saying so. I'd like to think this means I've convinced you that it's not an essentialist text, though.

the question of whether it gets better later is irrelevant

I don't think it is. Knife is not a complete work, and not intended to be treated as such. You say "there is a point at the beginning of your story in which an offensive stereotype is the literal truth": no, there is never a point at which it

the literal truth, only a point at which it

looks like

the literal truth. To steal a phrase, there’s a difference twixt those two things so big that it could ruddy well kill you if you don’t watch out.

The fact that people think the books are good or that it won an award is irrelevant.

I don't think the fact that it was awarded the James Tiptree Jr Award, "for science fiction or fantasy that expands or explores our understanding of gender", by a panel of judges who have track records of being very smart readers (Grant, Bradford, Kaveney and Valente; I don't know the fifth judge for that year, Leslie Howle) is irrelevant, unless you're so arrogant as to think that you can never be mistaken about a book that you haven't read. I don't think it definitively proves my case, either, mind. I think it is another datapoint it is useful to take on board.

You may have the last word!

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 11:18 on 2011-03-09

Kyra's original argument was that the Othering led directly to "unquestioned gender essentialism".

Did it? I don't *think* was saying that. I was raising them both as things I found problematic in the text. I think there's an extent they're connected, yes, as being part of the wider issue Dan has attempted to address here.

Oh come on, you're just wilfully bitching at each other now.

For fucks's sake, I will read the other two since it seems any point I attempt to raise on this matter will be met by "ah but in the context of the whole artistic statement..." which is honestly starting to bring me out in hives. It is not, I say again, unreasonable to judge something based on what is presented to you - and if reading two whole other books is *essential* to proving Ness's worldview is not based on an intense othering of women, he shouldn't be charging me an extra £20 for the priviledge of enlightening me. And don't play the "publication / marketing" card at me either - an author has to take some responsibility for the implication of what he writes.

And equally I guess what 'datapoints' we consider relevant is an entirely personal matter. I have to admit, I don't factor awards and accolades into my interpretation of a text either. And this has nothing to do with my respect, or lack thereof, for the panel of judges - I might be more inclined to read a book because Daniel Abraham said it was worth reading, but that alone is not going to make me think well of it.

Also I don't know by what standard you judge a "smart" reader. I fear it might be a meaningless compliment because we attribute intelligence to those we agree with, and the opposite to those we don't. And I'm not saying a well-turned argument can't change a mind but ultimately we are more likely to accept well-turned arguments from those we have already "decided" are smart readers. Sorry if this sounds cynical. It's not meant to be. But I guess the question one must always ask when it comes to issues of authority is: "who says?" And I don't *automatically* consider prominance in a community to be a sign of value, although, of course, it can be an indicator.

The thing is, perhaps it is arrogance, but I think I have a reasonably coherently expressed and textually supported argument as to why The Knife of Letting Go didn't work for me, and why I found some aspects of the text problematic, specifically the textual manipulations and the gender politics. This is not a case of "IT'S MY OPINION AND OPINIONS CAN'T BE WRONG" - it's me presenting my case and backing it up with reference to the text.

I am, in no way, disputing the relevance or the value or the existence of other readings. I'm not making a judgement on people who like the book, or who don't agree with my criticisms - although as a general rule one of the problems with trying to challenge implied or inherent sexism is that there are always a lot of people who want to brush it under the carpet. Nor have I had any point claimed Knife was a bad book, or made unsupported criticisms. Nobody, for example, has tried to convince me killing the dog was deeply subtle and mature. And when you have challenged my reading, with direct reference to the text, I have, at the very least, taken onboard your points. And had the judges of the Wossname Award actually bothered to articulate *why* Knife whatevers our understanding of gender (rather than reinforcing, as I believe, an unhelpful Mars/Venus paradigm rooted in a literal biological difference) then there might have been some relevance to mentioning the award at all.

But "the text says this because this reviewer says so" or "the text has a good attitude to gender politics because it won an award for it" doesn't work for me as a counter-argument to, well, anything. I know you say you're presenting these things as, err, datapoints but, to me at least, it always comes across as argument-from-authority, which I think, as a general rule, makes people get twitchy. And, again, I know you think this is arrogance (if x thinks y, who the hell am I to insist on thinking z) but we have to treat secondary criticism at the same as we treat primary texts: by asking questions about what it's saying, and why.

Actually, it's like the review you cite in response to Andy's comment above. I'm not disputing the quality of the review or anything like that, and I certainly mean no disrespect to the reviewer, but here's the full quote:

"However, I have heard criticisms of the depiction of these indigenous people so I will say that just because Ness is confronting civil war doesn't mean he is afraid to address genocide and slavery as well. He is facing the whole of American history head on."

I find this quite frustrating, to be honest, because to me that does not constitute a response to criticisms of the spackle. He says he doesn't want to give away spoilers - which I understand - but ultimately you can't mention a criticism and attempt to rebut it with an unfounded, blanket statement. This basically amounts to "However, I have heard criticisms of the depiction of these indigenous people but they're wrong." And you quoting it again just reinforces the problem - there's still no *actual* (by which I mean a textually supported) answer to the criticism there.

I know we've had this slightly tense and awkward discussion before - and I can only think it comes down to a fundamentally different approach to texts, or perhaps a way of talking about them. And I know you probably think you only have to put your head round the door here and you get dogpiled by people yelling at you - I hope you don't feel like that, I would hate to think that, but I do feel we seem to have some kind of ... I don't know ... profound communicative barrier. Omg, I othered Niall.

Perhaps it's because you are so conscious of an established community of discussion and criticism whereas I have no pretensions to be anything other than someone who reads things and writes about them sometimes - but I think it often feels as though you're basically coming at the discussion from two streets ahead of me. I mean I do read reviews, and contrary to what you might think, I don't just read them just to think they're wrong. But it's almost as if while I'm still looking at the text, figuring out what it means and what I thought about it, you want to present to me with an already established canon reading. As you did with the quote I just mentioned.

Again, I apologise if I have misread your intentions, or your approach. I am simply trying to figure out why any time we try to talk about anything it goes horribly wrong :P And if I come across as arrogant, I can, again, only apologise.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 11:18 on 2011-03-09Also this is not an attempt to have the last word.

*kills a dog*.

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 11:29 on 2011-03-09

That is, I am talking about biological differences that are unimportant, but get distorted to seem important

No, I get that, I still think the language you're using misrepresents your position (or at least, I hope it does).

I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to stick with the race examples because, as you persist in pointing out, I haven't actually read The Knife of Never Letting Goand I repeat I am trying to make a *general point* here. I don't think this is a problem because I'm trying to make the *same* point which at least two people who *have* read the book have tried to make.

To my mind: "Black people have darker skin than white people" is a biological difference. "Black people have really really dark skin and massive thick lips and bulging eyes" is an exaggeration and of a biological difference. "Black people are less intelligent than white people" is not a biological difference at all, it's just a myth. It is in no way related to any biological difference, and to describe it as an exaggeration of a biological difference is, arguably, offensive because it admits to the existence of a biological differece *which affects intelligence*, which almost certainly does not exist.

Similarly, in terms of gender, "women are on average slightly shorter than men" is a real biological difference. "Women are small and fragile and men are big and strong" is an exaggeration of a biological difference. "Women are better at communicating than men" is nothing to do with biological difference at all.

Again, I think what we actually have here is a fundamental disagreement about how the real world works. You read the Noise as a metaphor for superficial biological differences which really exist, and of which society exaggerates and distorts the importance. Kyra reads it as a metaphor for specific innate (and possibly biological) differences which *do not* exist, and which should not be presumed to exist.

This is one of those subtle differences of opinion which is never the less profoundly important. "Society exaggerates and distorts real differences" is a different message to "society creates differences out of whole cloth when really none exist." Everything I have heard about The Knife of Never Letting Go(including, I should add, from you) implies to me that it supports the first reading but not the second. Now the difference between those two readings is very *small* but it matters to some people - it matters to Kyra, I suspect it mattered to Abigail, and it matters to me.

I don't think it is. Kyra's original argument was that the Othering led directly to "unquestioned gender essentialism" ... I'd like to think this means I've convinced you that it's not an essentialist text, though.

I think you've convinced me that there's room for argument, and that your definition of "essentialism" is sufficiently different from my own that I don't think any further discussion is going to be fruitful.

Basically I read the fact that the Noise has a different effect on men and women as de facto essentialist. You don't. This comes down to the fact that we define "essentialism" slightly differently. Broadly speaking, I would define gender essentialism as the notion that social stereotypes about the sexes are grounded in innate (possibly biological although it's a very old concept) differences and that (crucially) this definition is broad enough to include "sex-differentiated reactions to foreign substances" as an innate difference.

I'd also add that my definition of "grounded in" is broad enough to include "are exaggerations of the importance of".

Once again, I think we might be might be getting tripped up over definitions, in this case the definition of "literal".

In the text as it has been described to me, it is *literally true* that Viola is not only the first person, but the first *entity* which Todd has met that does not have Noise.

This *on its own* gives you a situation in which an offensive stereotype (girls are fundamentally different to boys) is literal truth. The fact that Noise is a local phenomenon, or that it is curable, or that it can be given to women *does not matter*. The Noise functions, in the first book, to highlight how alien Viola feels to Todd, and this is not a result of cultural or social pressures, it is a direct result of her being *literally* and *observably* different from him.

Again, all of this tallies *exactly* not only with other people's criticisms of the book, but *also* with your defence of it. You think the book's analysis of gender issues is *good* because it highlights the way in which society exaggerates and distorts the importance of superficial differences. Kyra believes (and on the basis of what she has told me I agree) that it is bad, because it posits the existence of differences which do not read to her as superficial.

Again to use an analogy which I, Kyra and Abigal have all independently used in this situation: it feels a hell of a lot like those fantasy novels that use Orcs or the equivalent as an analogy for black people. It doesn't matter how wrong you're saying racism is, some people will insist that it isn't okay for you to use non-human species to represent non-white races.

I'm really not sure how to respond to this because this is so utterly alien to my whole way of engaging with fiction.

I do, in fact believe I can never be mistaken about a book I haven't read. I don't believe this is arrogance, I believe it's the way fiction *works*. Barring actual issues of fact (of which there are actually very few in fiction), I don't believe it is possible for *anybody* to be mistaken about a book *at all*.

Those guys who thought that Dumbledore was Ron from the future? They weren't "mistaken" about Harry Potter - they had a perfectly legitimate interpretation of the text that actually explained a lot of things better than Rowling's actual backstory.

Allecto's insistence that Joss Whedon's shows are full of rapists? Again, not mistaken. An extreme reading of the text but a valid one.

People who said that The Thirteenth Child whitewashed American history through its removal of the Native Americans? Not mistaken. And for what it's worth, most of those people hadn't read the book *either* because if your objections to a book are based on *factual statements about its contents* you don't need to read it to object to it.

Could I be mistaken about The Knife of Never Letting Go. Yes I could. It could, for example, be the case that Kyra, Abigail and in fact *you* have all deliberately liedto me about its contents. It's possible, for example, that the book contains no concept called "Noise", or that it doesn't affect men and women differently, or that Viola actually has Noise just like everybody else. Unless I am mistaken on one of those three points, the treatment of gender in the book bothers me - and it bothers me purely on the basis of those elements which have been described to me.

I don't think it definitively proves my case, either, mind. I think it is another datapoint it is useful to take on board.

Data point?

Sorry, are you actually saying that you believe the act of responding to a work of fiction is some kind of *data analysis* exercise? That if you somehow line up enough Very Clever People to say that a book is good that this somehow "proves" it?

Not only does literary criticism not work that way, nothing works that way. The fact that a lot of clever people believe something *is not and never has been* any kind of evidence that it is true. Lots of clever people believe in God, that doesn't prove He exists. Lots of clever people believe in evolution, that doesn't prove that evolution is real either (there's quite a lot of *actual evidence* that proves evolution is real, but weight of scholarly opinion is *not* evidence and never has been).

You cannot address specific criticisms of a text by citing the fact that other people felt broadly positive about it. You cannot even address specific criticisms of a text by citing the fact that other people felt those criticisms were invalid. You have to present an *actual argument* which addresses those criticisms. You have in fact done that ("The Noise is Local" and "The Noise is shown to be curable" both address the issue of essentialism to some extent) but a lot of people still have an essential problem with the *whole premise* of the Noise and still feel it to be grounded in essentialist assumptions *even given* its local nature.

Again you seem to be coming at this from the position that there is some kind of objectively correct interpretation of the book, which can be reached by sufficient analysis of the available data - that if you can cite enough people who agree with you that this will somehow "prove" that your interpretation of the book is correct, or at least more valid than Kyra's and Abigail's. Again that just isn't how reading works.

You have in fact provided some perfectly good arguments from the text that the Noise is less gender essentialist than it might originally seem. For me personally, that's still more essentialist than I'm comfortable with. You seem to be intent on trying to prove that the text cannot be described as essentialist *at all* and that's not something we're going to be able to do, because things really do just get subjective here.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 13:22 on 2011-03-09

profound communicative barrier

The irony of this had not escaped me, either. I agree with you: we have different styles of reading, different preferences in reading, and (especially me and Dan) different ways of arguing our case. I'm interested in those, which I think is why I keep getting sucked into these discussions here; it's almost enough to make me volunteer to write an FB article about those issues, entirely divorced from any text. But not quite, not least because I'm not at all confident that I could find a way to express my perceptions of those differences that wouldn't sound (against my wishes) pejorative.

But on one point: I don't mean, by citing Martin's review or the Tiptree win, to try to establish that there is an inviolable Truth about the book out there that can be proved. As you say, I am very conscious of an established community of discussion, I always want to test my response against other responses that are out there. I take something like winning an award I respect as a challenge: what did those other readers see in this book? (By no means do I agree with all of that year's Tiptree judges about everything, but I certainly respect them enough to ask that question. As I respect you enough to bear all this in mind when I reread Chaos Walking. Smart readers are ones that provoke me, not just ones I agree with.) Martin's quote I cited because his phrasing had stuck in my mind and I didn't want to plagiarise; it wasn't meant to comment on the success or failure of Ness's handling of the Spackle so much as to say that it seems absolutely clear to me that the resonances with our world and history are deliberate. On the other hand, up until Dan's last comment there, I would have said that he was convinced that there is an objectively correct interpretation of The Knife of Never Letting Go.

I sort of hate the idea that you're now going to go and read the other two books, because as was said way up above, they're just as manipulative as the first one and you're going to be frustrated with them on that level, even if you agree with every bit of my interpretation of them -- which, let's face it, is unlikely. No, I think it would be much better for Dan to read the whole lot and get his rant on properly. I won't comment on his article, though. Probably.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 11:16 on 2011-03-10Don't worry, I'm going to read a bunch of books I actually want to read first. And I may just not be arsed. Life is too short to read books you don't like for the priviledge of discussing them.

There's quite a lot to address in your comment, and I'd like to talk about community and criticism but as much as I think it's bad form to be a selective respondent I kind of want to focus on what seems to me the most important thing.

On the other hand, up until Dan's last comment there, I would have said that he was convinced that there is an objectively correct interpretation of The Knife of Never Letting Go.

This strikes me as a little bit strange, since we are all actually in agreement about the interpretation of the Noise. Where we differ is the extent to which it's a problem.

The Noise is, as we have largely agreed over the course of this discussion, a metaphor for the way social stereotypes are constructed by the distortion and exaggeration of biological difference.

What Dan, and to a lesser extent I (lesser in the sense that I can't be arsed, not that I feel less strongly, if anything I feel more strongly), have been painfully arguing over the past three days is this is problematic because it taps into, and reinforces, the idea that biological difference is a base cause of sexist and racist stereotypes, rather than it being something cited *after the fact* as justification for them.

And this is where you move from a subjective and interpretative space of the text, into a more objective one - because, for many people, issues of race and gender politics are *not* subjective. There is a right and a wrong at stake here.

As far as I can tell there are maybe four reasons why you might argue the Noise is not problematic as a device:

1. The *very real* biological difference it posits is actually superfical (I would dispute this with reference to the text - the fact Viola is so very other to Todd, but that is a matter for interpretation, however, I think my interpretation is more arguable than the alternative)

2. It's not a problem because that's how stereotyping in the real world works (problem! it isn't! and it is utterly offensive to suggest that it is, as it buys into the justification rather than the reality and *only emphasises* why the Noise-metaphor makes me uncomfortable to the degree it does)

3. A whiff of lowkey sexism doesn't personally bother you (again, I have no issues with this, there's entirely the reader's call)

4. It's a specific planet with a specific germ on it so it doesn't matter(irrelevant - as you yourself have stated texts resonant with our world, we cannot close them off like this).

Also I wouldn't have categorised someone giving a damn about the presentation of socially constructed difference as 'getting his rant on.'

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 15:50 on 2011-03-10

As far as I can tell there are maybe four reasons why you might argue the Noise is not problematic as a device:

I think (2) is the real sticking point here -- (1) is where we get into Knife vs Chaos Walking, in which I say that your reading is supportable (but also arguable) for the former, and not really supportable (though probably arguable) for the latter, and you say Knife must be judged on its own; (3) is certainly true, although I do try to become more bothered; (4) is irrelevant, as you say -- but I'm having a horrendous time trying to find something to address it that doesn't just involve repeating myself. (e.g. pointing out that you too have dropped "the importance of" from your restatement of my position, which I continue to insist matters to the sense!) So perhaps we should just go direct to each others' sources, instead, and see if that gets us anywhere. I recommend Daniel Lord Smail's

On Deep History and the Brain

, in particular the third and fourth chapters, as something that has informed my views on the relationship between biology and culture. I've only checked a few of the references, but they seem pretty sound. What would you recommend as a good summary of research informing your views, in particular the model for the evolution of prejudice you're arguing for?

Also I wouldn't have categorised someone giving a damn about the presentation of socially constructed difference as 'getting his rant on.'

I wasn't, I was categorising Dan on a tear as getting his rant on. Subject matter seems to have very little to do with it, so far as I can tell.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 16:00 on 2011-03-10I'm not sure either side of this writing a recommended books list is necessarily going to help the debate.

However, reading summaries of On Deep History I note that its essential premise is that a lot of cultural developments appear to Smail to be influenced by neurochemistry. If that's true, though, then that surely bolsters the argument that many cultural features, like prejudices and stereotypes, do not arise from cold, rational analysis but from essentially irrational instincts prompted by neurochemistry, and that any "explanation" a person from said culture may offer for why they happen to be prejudiced is a post-hoc explanation of the sort that you're trying to argue doesn't happen?

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 16:18 on 2011-03-10

do not arise from cold, rational analysis

I'm not arguing that they do.

a post-hoc explanation of the sort that you're trying to argue doesn't happen?

I'm also not arguing that post-hoc rationalisations play no role in the construction of prejudice.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 17:24 on 2011-03-10Ok, so when you're saying that the people in

Knife

are exaggerating the "importance of" biological differences, you're saying they are citing the biological differences as a post hoc rationalisation of prejudice?

Because if that is true we've been arguing at cross-purposes a bit. But only a bit. It still seems that - in

Knife

, at least - Ness has constructed a scenario in which treating men and women differently as a consequence of their varying reaction to Noise is actually a rational response to the facts of the setting. It's almost unthinkable that a world in which men are telepaths and women aren't

wouldn't

give rise to a culture which treated men and women inherently differently, because on a fundamental level - again, just from the scenario we see in

Knife

- there is a seriously major difference there. And maybe Todd is a good guy who looks beyond that culture in order to try and treat Viola as an equal, but that doesn't change the fact that he's got Noise and she doesn't and as far as can be told that's something they're always going to have to deal with.

Ness might be saying that these inherent differences should not be cause for stereotyping. But he's still saying that, in that scenario, those inherent differences exist in the first place. And if the Noise is a metaphor for the stereotype of women as being these inscrutable creatures which inherently think differently from men, then he's effectively saying "Yeah, OK, women do think differently from men and are inherently hard for us guys to understand. But that's no reason we shouldn't try extra hard to understand them, and it's certainly no excuse for being mean!"

Whereas many people (including myself) would say "Rubbish, women don't come from a different planet, if a guy finds it difficult to understand women that's a problem with him, not a problem inherent in all women."

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 18:49 on 2011-03-10

So perhaps we should just go direct to each others' sources, instead, and see if that gets us anywhere. I recommend Daniel Lord Smail's On Deep History and the Brain, in particular the third and fourth chapters, as something that has informed my views on the relationship between biology and culture. I've only checked a few of the references, but they seem pretty sound. What would you recommend as a good summary of research informing your views, in particular the model for the evolution of prejudice you're arguing for?

Niall. Do you realize how *utterly* condescending you are being right now.

You are now actually insisting that we have to do *research* just to be able to have a conversation with you. Because apparently your beliefs are subtle, so complex, and so deeply grounded in serious scholarly research that we cannot hope to engage with them unless we do actual *homework*.

Sorry. No. Not going to happen. Not only do I not have the time but you are, once again, resorting to argument from authority. Your beliefs about the relationship between biology and culture should stand on their *own merits* and you should be able to argue them from *your own* understanding of the evidence. Telling me that there is this book (a book, I should note, written by a historian, not a neuroscientist) which apparently informed the beliefs which you have so far *failed to articulate* does not help.

Basically, when it comes to the evolution of prejudice, you keep making two arguments that seem contradictory. The phrase we keep coming back to is "exaggeration and distortion of the importance" (which yes, I have occasionally trimmed down to "exaggeration" - I don't think this changes the meaning as much as you do). As far as I can tell, by this you can mean one of two things:

One. You can mean that biological variation creates difference markers. Black people have dark skin, gay people are sexually attracted to members of their own sex, men and women have different secondary sexual characteristics. Society "exaggerates and distorts the importance" of those markers, leading to prejudice and, crucially, to other stereotypes which have no basis in biology whatsoever (black people have huge penises, gay people are all paedophiles, women's brains overheat if they read too many books).

Two. You mean that biological variation creates real, but small differences between people which to some extent tally with stereotypes. Black people are slightly less intelligent than white people, women are slightly less rational than men, gay people are slightly more sexually promiscuous than straight people. Society then "exaggerates and distorts the importance" of these differences (black people are all stupid and dangerous, women are all hysterical bitches, gay people are all paedophiles).

Now if what you mean is option one (which I think is what you generally claim you mean) that's pretty uncontroversial, but in that case I don't think the Noise is a good way of exploring this phenomenon because, as Kyra observes above, Noise is a big freaking deal (at least in Knife) and I think drawing parallels between genuinely superficial differences like skin colour and sexual orientation, and major differences like the presence or absence of telepathy does *in and of itself* constitute and "exaggeration and distortion of the importance" of those superficial differences. There is a world of difference between "women are on average slightly shorter than men" and "women tend not to have Noise and men do."

If what you mean is something more like two, then you're on rather thinner ice, because then you basically are arguing that "stereotypes are based on fact" and that causes some really quite serious issues. You generally don't seem to be saying that this is the kind of biological difference you're talking about, but at the same time, this seems to me to be more the kind of biological difference that the Noise *is*. So when you say that the Noise is a metaphor for real biological differences between men and women, the importance of which is "exaggerated and distorted" by society it sounds to me like you're arguing something more like two than one.

If you're arguing one, then we have a basic disagreement about the interpretation of the text. If you're arguing two, then we have a basic disagreement about the real world.

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 20:12 on 2011-03-10

Do you realize how *utterly* condescending you are being right now.

I apologise. That was not my intent.

you should be able to argue them from *your own* understanding of the evidence.

I should, and I've been trying to do that all week. Self-evidently, it has not been working. At the same time, however, you haven't been convincing me from your own understanding, either. And since I agree with you that this is an important area, one where I do work to improve my knowledge, I'd like to know where your understanding came from. I want

you

to set

homework. I mentioned one example that I've read because I thought it would seem arrogant to ask for references without showing my own. Oh, irony.

I don't think your option one is complex enough, but I don't think your option two is true at all.

There is a world of difference between "women are on average slightly shorter than men" and "women tend not to have Noise and men do."

And yeah, this is where we fundamentally disagree. What are the consequences of women being on average slightly shorter than men? Our culture associates height with authority (hence the well-known correlations between the height of a presidential candidate and their chance of victory); our culture associates height with athleticism (which contributes to the dominance of mens' sport over womens') and with health (which contributes to the perception of women as "the weaker sex"). Are those insignificant consequences? I don't think so. Are they comparably consequential to Noise? I think it's at least arguable.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 20:34 on 2011-03-10

Are those insignificant consequences? I don't think so. Are they comparably consequential to Noise? I think it's at least arguable.

But the thing is, the

objective, universal, not culturally-constructed

consequences of possessing or not possessing Noise are absolutely massive, whereas there's no reason aside from the cultural ones you've mentioned that a person who happened to be short couldn't exert authority. You can imagine a culture where shortness is associated with authority, for example, whereas the effects of Noise are not culturally specific at all - regardless of your background, if you've got the Noise you're broadcasting your thoughts, if you're not infected you're not going to be able to broadcast anything no matter how hard you try, that's kind of a really fucking huge deal.

The Noise is a bad way to say that these differences between men and women shouldn't matter because the consequences of having Noise are actually vastly and objectively more important than the consequences of having an extra millimetre or two of height, regardless of culture. It's not a minor, trivial, easy to ignore difference that is tied in with major, important differences, it's a major and important difference

in and of itself

(Note that I said "tied in" there as opposed to "leading to"; I don't think a small statistical variation in height led to women being sidelined and portrayed as weak, I think the cultural bias came first and then the height thing crept in as a means of rationalising and reinforcing it.)

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 20:41 on 2011-03-10

that's kind of a really fucking huge deal.

But it's not. That -- to me -- is the point of Todd's conceptual breakthrough re: Viola that's quoted in Kyra's post. And of the next two books. And the effects are

hugely

culturally specific. It's the combination of Noise plus evangelical Christian morality that's toxic, not the Noise in itself -- one of the other movements going on over the final volume is towards imagining a world where Noise is a good and productive thing, not a stigma and an inhibition.

I think the cultural bias came first

Out of interest, what do you think the origin of the cultural bias was?

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 20:46 on 2011-03-10

And yeah, this is where we fundamentally disagree. What are the consequences of women being on average slightly shorter than men?

The consequences are that they have a slightly harder time getting things off of high shelves, on average.

Our culture associates height with authority (hence the well-known correlations between the height of a presidential candidate and their chance of victory); our culture associates height with athleticism (which contributes to the dominance of mens' sport over womens') and with health (which contributes to the perception of women as "the weaker sex").

Okay, I see where you're coming from but I think you're getting into circular territory here. Yes, our culture associates height with a bunch of different things, but that does not make those cultural associations a *consequence* of height. In particular, height tends to correlated strongly with income (because height is strongly influenced by diet) which in turn makes it correlate strongly with pretty much every desirable quality you might care to name (tall people do, on average, have a higher IQ than short people).

I also do not believe for one *femtosecond* that the popularity of men's sports over women's has anything to do with the men being taller on average. I'm also not really sure you can say that there's a cultural association between height and health. Thinness and health, possibly, but not height and health.

And regardless I think there's still quite a big difference between "the fact that women are, on average, very slightly shorter than men may be a minor contributing factor to some gender stereotypes" and "men can read the minds of other men but not of women and this leads to the men freaking out and murdering them".

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 20:56 on 2011-03-10I'm finding the idea that telepathy - even the sort of involuntary telepathy the Noise produces - isn't in and of itself a really big deal kind of baffling.

I mean, I know I haven't read the book and all. The thing is, you have, and you've just told me that the Noise (coupled with the cultural reaction to the noise) is presented as being a key component in making the world either a hellhole or a paradise. That would suggest to me that Ness considers it a majorly huge deal as well.

Yes, the reaction to the Noise might be very culturally specific, but the Noise is such a huge deal that

no culture

presented with the issue could possibly fail to react to it in one way or another. It simply isn't something you can ignore or brush over like, oh, I don't know, whether your bellybutton is an "innie" or "outie".

permalink

go to top

Niall

at 23:48 on 2011-03-10I suddenly feel like we're getting somewhere! Dan, thank you for "difference markers", that's a good phrase. Arthur, thank you for "You can imagine a culture where shortness is associated with authority" -- yes, that's crucial. It's much harder, I submit, to imagine a culture where height is truly irrelevant. It's possible to imagine all sorts of meaning being attached to difference markers; possible to imagine different sets of difference markers being paramount; harder to imagine difference markers being meaningless.

Similarly, Noise is a honking great difference marker, you're right. But it's possible to imagine a situation where men get infected by Noise, and women start to see them as monsters, and the women from one village kill all of their men; and then you have a story about a girl encountering a boy with Noise, that she's been taught all her life to fear and hate ... or it's possible to imagine a culture where Silence is what is talked about, is the default, and the men kill their women for being Noisy (tell me

that

wouldn't play into stereotypes...) ... yes, I agree with you that Noise is something that will have an effect on a culture. When I say that it's not a big deal, I mean that its effect is not absolutely deterministic. It is not a given that a man with Noise will find women to be baffling and strange -- it does not make them alien -- Todd finds Viola alien because of the way he's raised, but plenty of other men and women are living together in other places on New World and communicating just fine.

Dan:

I'm also not really sure you can say that there's a cultural association between height and health.

Aw, I missed the "cultural" there and was all ready to throw a couple of studies at you that find an inverse association between height and mortality. But my argument would be this: certainly, height is strongly correlated with quality of diet, which is correlated with a bunch of other factors. But height is the visible difference marker, much more so than diet; so cultural associations accrue to height, and not diet; so it's meaningful to talk of cultural associations being a consequence of height.

(Still interested in where the cultural bias came from. And still interested in the homework.)

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 23:59 on 2011-03-10

It's much harder, I submit, to imagine a culture where height is truly irrelevant.

Harder, but possible. Definitely possible.

I would submit it is nigh-impossible to imagine a culture where Noise is not relevant. Because dude: telepathy. Te. Le. Pa. Thy. Kind of a big deal.

permalink

go to top

http://everythingisnice.wordpress.com/

at 21:29 on 2011-03-11Kyra:

This basically amounts to "However, I have heard criticisms of the depiction of these indigenous people but they're wrong."

That is what I believe but that is not what I was trying to say. The criticisms I vaguely refer to are ones I have seen indirectly or heard anecdotally and for that reason have not engaged with them directly. I do think I could respond to such criticism but since I had no specific argument to rebut I did not think that review was the right venue for going into detail. So you are right that this is not a meaningful or successful attempt to respond directly to such criticism. Rather my intent was to signpost to those who found the treatment of the Spackle in

Never Letting Go

problematic that they may find some evidence to change their minds. In this I was motivated by the fact I think

The Ask And The Asnwer

is an impressive work of fiction and I think it would be of interest to those who have read the first novel, even if they didn't like it. (I am entirely alive to the idea that any work published as an individual volume should stand in its own right regardless of it relation to other words the author has written.)

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 23:08 on 2011-03-11I, err, didn't meant to lay into your review - hope it didn't come across that way. And what you say here is entirely fair, I'm certainly not trying to tell you how to write a review! And, yes, of course there is a place for rebuttals of specific analyses of a text, and reviews are probably not one of them. The only reason I referenced it at all was because I perceived Niall as quoting that review in support of his interpretation, which struck me as somewhat unfair since, as you have said above, you weren't trying to present an argument at all.

I am coming round to the idea that I might read the second book, just out of curiosity now. Although weirdly you were much more critical of the second book but you seemed to like it more - I wonder if that's because it seems like a more ambitious text.

permalink

go to top

Dan H

at 23:52 on 2011-03-11

yes, I agree with you that Noise is something that will have an effect on a culture. When I say that it's not a big deal, I mean that its effect is not absolutely deterministic.

Okay, I get where you're coming from, I think the problem with that is that while it's possible to imagine ways in which a phenomenon like the Noise could have affected society *differently* the way in which it *actually* affected society in Knife followed patterns which read to some people like they're based on common pseudoscientific beliefs about biologically-based gender roles.

Basically I think that (from what I've seen expressed by other people) the presentation of gender roles in Knife falls down a bit of an uncanny valley, because it presents a situation in which a large (albeit circumstantial) biological difference appears between men and women which closely parallels real-world gender stereotypes.

To put it another way, it feels like the book is using too many metaphors at once. Todd is clearly supposed to find Viola alien, and to an extent "the opposite sex can seem alien" is a perfectly reasonable idea to explore in a children's book. The problem is that it double-dips, Viola seems alien to Todd because of his upbringing, but she *also* seems alien to him because of her lack of Noise. This makes it seem like instead of saying "girls might seem alien, but they aren't" the book is saying, "girls might seem alien, and to some extent they are". Essentially because the Noise isn't needed to make Viola *seem* alien to Todd, it creates the impression that she is supposed to be *genuinely* alien to Todd.

I think either element on its own - highly gender segregated society / extreme biological difference between the sexes - would provide room for effective exploration of how apparent differences are really artificial. Both together makes it seem (to me at least, and to several others as well) more like an exploration of differences that are presumed to really exist.

But height is the visible difference marker, much more so than diet; so cultural associations accrue to height, and not diet; so it's meaningful to talk of cultural associations being a consequence of height.

I know I keep doing the "focus on specific words" thing but I think it depends on what you mean by "consequence". I know it's an over-specific meaning of the word, but because I do read a fair number of social justice blogs I tend to steer away from words like "consequence" because they can seem to carry connotations of blame or responsibility (as in "the consequences of your actions").

Height is a good example here actually. Most positive qualities are associated directly with height, both in terms of cultural stereotypes and also in terms of real statistical correlation. A lot of this simply comes down to the correlation between height and diet, diet and income. So it's not really that the cultural associations are a consequence of height, rather they're a consequence of a third factor which correlates with both height, and the thing with which it is associated.

A good example here is lice: several hundred years ago, lice were culturally associated with good health. The reason for this was that lice generally prefer to live on healthy people and will naturally leave the (uncomfortably hot or cold) bodies of the sick or dying. It would not really be true to say that the cultural association between lice and health was a consequence of lice, rather it was a consequence of a hidden third factor.

The same is true of, for example, racism. Racism isn't caused by the fact that some people have dark skin, it's caused by the fact that people instinctively band together against those they perceive as different (there are a great many sociological and psychological reasons for this). Again, there's a hidden third factor which is very important. Racism is very much *not* caused by skin colour.

The problem with the Noise is that (to a lot of people) it feels like the hidden third factor is missing (particularly since the manifestations of the Noise seem to parallel real-world gender stereotypes). The reaction of the men of Prentisstown to the Noise feels rather different to - say - the reaction of white people to black people or men to women. Here you have a large and *unambiguously significant* difference between the sexes. Although the reaction of the men of Prentisstown is extreme to the point of psychotic, it still comes across as a *direct consequence* of the Noise, which makes it feel, to me, qualitatively different from real world sexism or racism.

permalink

go to top

Robinson L

at 20:30 on 2011-03-16Oh wow, talk about your freaky coincidences. I also reviewed this book

a couple days before you posted this

. At the time I put it up, I told myself 'nobody's going to care by this point, what with the final book having come out last year and everything.' Weird.

But anyway,

thank you

, Kyra, for devoting the time and brainpower to articulating so many of my issues with this book—and so much better than I could've, too. Also, it's nice to know another reader had such an ambivalent, even negative reaction to this book.

One thing I'll never understand is why neither you, Niall, Abigail, nor any other reviewer I've read so far has brought up the novel's most damning trait: the effing awful writing. Oh sure, the narrative voice is good (if a bit too repetitive and ungrammatical at times), but where the blue burning bison's bollocks does Ness get off with that godsawful phonetic dialect in the

effing first person narration?

For those of you who haven't read the book, that passage quoted in the review is mild stuff. Sure, it can get irritating reading “tho” and “thru” when it should be “though” and “through,” but just wait until you get to “direkshun,” “explozhun,” “payshunce,” etc.. It's unrelenting, at least in the first book. “Cuz e's a hick, d'ya see?” Rinse and repeat for

almost five HUNDRED PAGES!

Ness did an excellent job of keeping me turning pages, but I seriously considered giving up on the book about a hundred pages in to spare my brain and my eyeballs this torment. Ultimately, I let my desire to know what happens next get the better of me, a decision I now sorely regret.

It's worse than that. If Todd knew the truth and were just trying to come to terms with it, that'd be one thing. But it's more like as soon as his mind took the information in and then suppressed it on the spot. For the rest of the book up to the reveal, (as in his encounter with Ben) Todd acts as if he not only doesn't know the truth, but he doesn't even have the faintest suggestion of a suspicion of a clue as to what the truth might be.

That's an interesting point you make, about the ending, Kyra—I hadn't even considered it beforehand. Now I do think about it, it strikes me as more the sort of ending I associate with the middle book in a YA trilogy. It seems to me when it comes to YA trilogies, the first book tends to be incredibly self-contained, whereas the second ties off some plot threads while still leading directly into the final book. While you can read

The Hunger Games

and stop there, I don't think you can really say the same for

Catching Fire

I've just read

The Ask and the Answer

, and it, ironically, has more of a proper ending than

The Knife of Never Letting Go

, though it still ends on a major cliffhanger.

While it delves deeper into the point that Spackles Are People Too, I've yet to see Ness satisfactorily address Todd's murder of the Spackle in book 1. It comes up, sure, but it still doesn't

count

, kind of like Mad Dog Tannen in

Back to the Future III

boasting of having killed something like 12 people, “not counting Indians and Chinamen.” Towards the end, even the effing Mayor affirms that “For all my efforts, I have been unable to turn this boy to the Dark Side,” and acknowledges Todd as “the man who doesn't kill.” Apparently, murdering a Spackle doesn't push one toward turning to the Dark Side the way murdering a human does.

The Ask and the Answer

tones down the horrible spelling—partly by making Viola a co-narrator, and partly, I'm convinced, by Ness cutting back to bearable (though still irritating) levels. And it turns out that Todd apparently can say “explosion” properly, but he usually says it wrong anyway to preserve

“that wonderful, dialect-heavy voice”

(seriously, Martin Lewis, what the flaming hell?). It gets surreal when the highly emotional (and manipulative) climax is constantly undermined by the ridiculously misspellings.

Niall: The other two books in the trilogy aren't chases -- they're more of a war story -- but they're very nearly as obvious in their ploys.

Really? If you asked me, I'd identify

The Ask and the Answer

as the point where Ness ditched all the subtlety of the previous book (/sarcasm) and started laying in with the Themehammer. The themes he's tackling—the slow process by which good people are co-opted into and perpetuate tyrannical regimes, and the way the two opposing sides in an armed conflict grow increasingly alike in terms of brutality—are good and all, and he illustrates them brilliantly.

The problem is that 1) I don't for a minute believe Ness has the understanding to suggest a realistic alternative to the second point, and 2) more importantly, this involves putting the main characters in a situation where they are either totally at the mercy of tyrannical forces or actively working for them – both of which repel me as a reader. I read through the whole thing because Ness is so goddamn good at his manipulations and making me need to know what happens next, but I didn't enjoy the actual reading process one little bit. By the time I'd reached the end, Ness had taken third place in my list of Most Cussed-At Authors.

(In this book, some humans do die on-page, and at least twice, it's almost as blatant as Manchee.)

Book Three,

Monsters of Men

, is 603 pages long. Gods help me.

Dan: It's a problem I often have when a book seems to be asking "to what extent X?" when my personal answer is "no X, at all" or "all X, always."

I think you'll be pleased to hear you're right in line with our old friend Arundhati Roy on this one. In an interview several years ago, she mentioned turning down an offer to participate in a debate on the merits of Empire, because the point isn't even debatable. She asked “would you debate the merits of child abuse?”/tangent

I think it's perfectly legitimate to weigh the faults and merits of a series in total - I think it's equally legitimate to weigh the faults and merits of an individual instalment in the series.

I'm on the fence about whether "Chaos Walking" or any of the individual books preach an innate relationship between violence and manhood. I think I could be persuaded to Niall's "that's just the setting" argument on that score, or the other way.

As for gender essentialism: I find the idea that all male humans and only male humans have Noise, and no female humans

at all

have Noise pretty damning.

I can't find it now, but somewhere Niall pointed out some diseases progress faster depending on their victim's gender. Right, but 1) that's just a tendency, not absolute statement ("disease X takes 1 day longer to develop symptoms in

every single man exposed

than it does for

every single woman exposed

). 2) I find

13 years

difference strains my Willing Suspension of Disbelief well past breaking point. 3) Especially if the discussion of women's Noise in

Monsters of Men

doesn't come out at one point and say "by the way, women's and men's brains absolutely are not wired radically differently, despite the peculiar behavior of the Noise," because a lot of real-world readers probably do believe that already.

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 23:19 on 2011-03-16Thanks for the comment :)

Oh sure, the narrative voice is good (if a bit too repetitive and ungrammatical at times), but where the blue burning bison's bollocks does Ness get off with that godsawful phonetic dialect in the effing first person narration?

Heh, actually I didn't mind that at all - I mean I guess it doesn't make *literal* sense in that it's first person present tense narration, not a written account, and we're left asking ourselves why Todd's stream of consciousness can't spell. But I felt it made a sort of literary sense - in that it creates a fitting picture of Todd. I actually quite liked Todd's voice - I mean, yes, it's overdone like everything else in the book. But y'know... Also I don't think it was meant to reflect on Todd's intelligence, or constantly reinforce the idea he's a hick - merely to demonstrate that he's passionate, smart and reasonably eloquent but not formally educated.

For the rest of the book up to the reveal, (as in his encounter with Ben) Todd acts as if he not only doesn't know the truth, but he doesn't even have the faintest suggestion of a suspicion of a clue as to what the truth might be.

Yes, you're right. As I said in the review I really hated this particular device, not only because it was manipulative but because it seemed to me it was *cheating*.

That's an interesting point you make, about the ending, Kyra

I'd just read Uglies so I was feeling INCREDIBLY PISSED OFF with self-conscious cliff-hanger endings.

It gets surreal when the highly emotional (and manipulative) climax is constantly undermined by the ridiculously misspellings.

Again, I'm with Martin - the voice was one of the few aspects of Knife that didn't bother me. And I never found it got in the way of drama or emotion - the scene I quoted between Todd and Viola is a good example, I think, of it being really quite effective. Also, although I think it's fair enough to say "this narrative voice didn't work for me" - I don't necessarily think it means all the people for whom it did work have been lobotomised :)

I'll have a think about the other stuff when I've read the next book (eek).

permalink

go to top

http://everythingisnice.wordpress.com/

at 16:58 on 2011-03-17

Heh, actually I didn't mind that at all - I mean I guess it doesn't make *literal* sense in that it's first person present tense narration, not a written account

It had never occured to me that this would be an issue since it is a pretty noble tradition in literature. You particularly see it amongst writers who are not operating in English in a non-majority culture. Black American writers, for example. Or Scots: say, Iain M Banks in

Feersum Endjinn

or more trad realists like James Kelman and Irvine Welsh. Is Scots just mispelled English? A lot of people would probably say it is but the boundary between dialect and language is pretty blurred and when it comes to first person narration the boundary between written and spoken is equally unclear. What form do thoughts take? There is a lot to unpick here but I don't think there is anything unusual or problematic about such narration.

permalink

go to top

Sonia Mitchell

at 22:30 on 2011-03-17A general point not a response to the book (haven't read it)...

It had never occured to me that this would be an issue since it is a pretty noble tradition in literature.

I wouldn't say literary precedent excludes the possibility of a technique raising issues. There's phonetic dialogue in Wuthering Heights, but that doesn't stop it being problematic that despite being set in Yorkshire and filtered through anything between one and three narrators, Joseph the servant is the only one to have his dialect rendered.

I'd suggest that in general (again, not read the book) when an author uses phonetics they're *inviting* you to question why, given that it's one of the more obvious stylistic choices.

I quite liked the extracts Kyra chose though. Great article.

permalink

go to top

http://everythingisnice.wordpress.com/

at 09:27 on 2011-03-18Oh, I agree entirely. There is always a

why?

for every artistic decision and as readers we should be thinking about these. But that is a question of considering the execution/intent/etc of the specific deployment of a technique. Robinson, on the other hand, is suggesting that there is something a priori wrong with using dialect in the first person. This is what I'm refering to when I say I don't see it as an issue.

On your point, there is probably lots of stuff to get into. What is Ness trying to signal in terms of class and intelligence? How much is Ness explicitly trying to evoke something like

Huckleberry Finn

? Is Todd's voice purely American or a Transatlantic amalgam that reflects Ness's own journey?

permalink

go to top

Wardog

at 13:03 on 2011-03-18With the whole "literal sense" angle, I was trying to see both sides of it but, honestly, it had never crossed my mind as being a problem either. I could see it could be *personally* annoying, but I can't actually think of a sensible argument as to why artful-stream-of-consciousness-first-person-present-tense narration would be actively a mistake. I mean I know there are some people who just can't get their head around present tense first person anyway but, again, that's down to reading preferences.

permalink

go to top

Arthur B

at 14:15 on 2011-03-18When I was a lot younger, first person tended to throw me and first person present tense threw me a

lot

. I kept trying to work out when the protagonist had the opportunity to write all of this down, and in the case of present stuff why they didn't write it down in the past tense.

I eventually realised that a first person narrative doesn't imply the existence of an actual text written by said person in their world, but it was kind of an intuitive leap.

permalink

go to top

Robinson L

at 15:02 on 2011-03-18@ Kyra: Yeah, sometimes the narrative voice works very well, though I'll note that the passage you quote doesn't include any of Ness' most egregious spelling, such as “stayshun.” I was referring specifically to the end of

The Ask and the Answer

when I talked about the spelling undermining the (melo)drama. Hmm, maybe it was more glaring in that book because those kinds of misspellings were less ubiquitous.

@ Martin: Huh, I hadn't even considered any of that. Which I guess goes to show that in some respects, I'm a very sheltered reader.

I never said that phonetic dialect should be rejected in all cases

a priori

in first-person narration or anywhere else—I only indicated that Ness' particular method really, really didn't work for me. (I think you could make the argument that it also doesn't make literal sense in that it's not consistent—if Todd and also Davy can't spell “-tion” words right, how come they don't have trouble with “thought” or “enough,” or any of the myriad other weird spelling conventions we have in English?)

I do think there's a difference between faithfully recording an existing dialect phonetically and making up your own, but not having read from the examples you cite, I can't comment on how they'd affect me. (I suspect that if

Feersum Endjinn

is consistent in its spelling throughout, I'll wait for the audiobook.)

I can only figure my obsessive-compulsive streak runs deeper than I thought, because unlike everyone else I found the spelling in

The Knife of Never Letting Go

actively painful to read through.

Kyra: I'll have a think about the other stuff when I've read the next book (eek).

Personally, I'd recommend against reading it, but mostly because I can't stand narratives where the main characters are at the mercy of the villains for a significant amount of pagespace, or where the main characters spend a lot of time doing something which the text makes perfectly clear to the reader is Evil (and not fun evil either, but evil evil). Those two together pretty much describe

The Ask and the Answer

in a nutshell.

If you're not as bothered by that sort of thing you may find it enjoyable, though it's at least as manipulative and heavy-handed as the first book.

I'd just read Uglies so I was feeling INCREDIBLY PISSED OFF with self-conscious cliff-hanger endings.

Huh, it actually didn't bother me. Then again, I listened to the whole

Uglies

series on audio—I tend to be more indulgent towards books which remove most of the effort of reading, and I'm chronically low on audiobooks. (Which isn't to say that I didn't get royally pissed with some other aspects of the books …)

Again, though, this has got me pondering. I'll agree the ending of

Uglies

was a bit much of a cliffhanger (he did better with

Leviathan

), but would you characterize the ending to

Pretties

as similarly excessive? I admit I don't recall

Pretties

as strongly, but from what I do remember, it doesn't strike me as a more egregious cliffhanger than most second-volume-in-the-trilogy books have.

permalink

go to top

Janne Kirjasniemi

at 08:33 on 2012-04-12I've just stumbled upon Nicola Griffith's novel Ammonite, which I haven't yet read, although I'm planning on purchasing it post haste. It seems to have a striking similarity to this Ness story or at least to the setting, as it seems it is a book focusing more on the contemplative, more thoughtful scifi rather than the action packed, suspenseful stuff. But basically it tells of a colonized planet where a local disease kills off all the men (and some women) and the women who are left have developed a shared Jungian consciousness as the disease's result. It also won the Tiptree award, but I haven't found much thoughts on connecting these two, perhaps because the similarities are kind of superficial. But still, it does seem rather striking that the settings are so similar. Does anyone have any knowledge regarding this?

permalink

go to top

In order to post comments, you need to

authenticate with OpenID

. Don't have an account? See the

About Us

page for more details.

Show / Hide Comments -- More in March 2011

#Ferretbrain #Chaos Walking #Patrick Ness #Wardog

4 notes · View notes

sashagilljournalist · 4 years

Text

The Febu-NON-dairy Showdown

Have you ever found yourself lost in the non-dairy aisle, flummoxed by the sheer volume of non-dairy milk in front of you? Which to choose? Which brand? What on earth is pea milk? In this wholly scientific (Sample population – One. Me.) we take an in-depth look at which non-dairy beverage performs best in several milk-requiring situations you may find yourself in.

For your cuppa There is simply no better bedfellow for your coffee or tea than oat milk. It is creamy, has a neutral flavour, and is the only plant milk that steams up, like a cloud, giving you the perfect microfoam on top your morning latte or cappuccino. Good microfoam means good latte art. Which, obviously, means a cuppa good enough to snap for Instagram, if that’s your jam. Oat milk is also, as a perk, the plant milk that requires the least amount of water to produce – good for your cuppa, and for the planet. The soy milk that is preferred by cafes and the like is a good second, only because soy has a more assertive taste than oat does, and certain brands tend to curdle when met with the acidic tea or coffee, giving you a coffee that is speckled with flecks of soy clumps. Not sexy. For the best bet, get a barista soy milk – these tend to be more resilient – and warm the milk up before adding to your coffee/tea situation. The sudden change in temperature you get from plunging fridge-cold soy milk into a hot beverage, more often than not, freaks your soy milk out and causes it to seize. We like: Oatly Barista Edition, £1.80, Tesco / Alpro Barista Soya UHT, £1.90. Sainsbury’s

To drown your cereal or thicken your porridge I know the joke has been made before, but I will make it again. Oat milk and oats – oatception, if you will – are an excellent pair for the ultimate porridge situation. The perfect example of ingredients coming full circle. On the same thread, rice milk is slightly sweeter than oat and works well to perk up any bowl of cereal. Particularly the bran-y, whole-wheat, no-fuss sort (I am looking at you, all-bran). If you prefer your cereal on the sugary side – pick oat over rice as it won’t overwhelm your palate, but will still provide the creamy velvet background number to your cereal-saturated breakfast. We like: Rice Dream Original, £1.55, Waitrose / Oatly Original Oat Drink, £1.50, Sainsbury’s

For baking Soy milk matches dairy milk in its silkiness, and because of this, it can be used as a substitute, in equal proportions, for dairy milk in your favourite baked good. Its distinctive soy flavour mellows out when subject to the heat of the oven, so don’t let that worry you. Soy is also the best of all the non-dairy milk for a buttermilk substitute, where its coagulation property rather works in your favour. Before I went vegan, whenever a recipe called for a cup of buttermilk, I would fill a cup measurement with a tablespoon of acid (lemon juice, vinegar, et cetera), then top it up with dairy milk. When left to its own devices, the acid causes the milk to thicken and curdle. Soy appears to be the one non-dairy milk that performs this role just as well. Since you will be baking with it, I tend to go for whatever is cheapest, and Tesco’s home brand version has been instrumental to all my vegan baking experiments. We like: Tesco Longlife Unsweetened Soya Milk Alternative, £0.85, Tesco

For savoury cooking If your next savoury dish requires a splash of milk (soups, pasta sauces, or similar) – two of the plant milk rise above the rest. Hemp milk, with its ever-so-slightly vegetal taste, works well when paired with grains or pulses. The herbaceous quality of it bounces off the neutral, grainy taste of quinoa – for example. For something slightly more neutral where there are already a lot of flavours in attendance, cashew milk imparts maximum creaminess with only a vestige of a pleasant nutty taste. We like: Good Hemp Creamy Seed Milk, £2, Sainsbury’s / Plenish Organic Cashew M*lk, £2.55, Waitrose

For the whipped-cream enthusiast I always keep a tin of coconut milk (none of the low-fat stuff, please) in my fridge, ready to deploy whenever a dessert calls for a crowning of whipped cream. When picking a brand to use for your next dessert, keep two things in mind. One, the higher the fat content the better; and two, try to find one with little or no stabilisers (Guar Gum, Carboxymethylcellulose…). The Essential Waitrose brand has never failed me. Keep a can in the fridge overnight. Open it, and scoop out the thick, solidified coconut cream that will have settled in a layer on the top of the can, leaving the clear coconut water behind. Use a hand whisk, or sheer elbow grease, to whip as much air as you can into the coconut cream. The colder it is the better your whip. Keep whatever residual coconut water you have – the high electrolyte content makes it a great post-workout drink, and it also makes a terrific addition to a smoothie. We like: Essential Waitrose Coconut Milk, £1.55, Waitrose

For the ambitious vegan ice-cream maker I use the word ambitious, here, because ambition is necessary to cultivate the compulsion to make one’s own ice cream. But if you are a better person than I am, and resolve to make your own non-dairy frozen dessert (we aren’t legally allowed to call it ice cream, with it lacking the cream and all…) – pick a higher fat plant milk. Coconut reigns supreme here, and just like for a good whip, look for more fat and less stabilisers. If you are looking for a lower fat option, consider using soy milk – although your resulting ice cream (pardon me – frozen dessert) may not be nearly as luscious. We like: Essential Waitrose Coconut Milk, £1.55, Waitrose / Alpro Soya Unsweetened Longlife Drink Alternative, £1.30, Tesco

For drinking, solo. With a cookie, perhaps. One of life’s simple pleasures involves a cookie and a cold glass of milk. Some alchemy is at work here, giving you a treat that is greater than the sum of its parts. Rice milk, with its sweet subtlety and velvety mouthfeel, works wonderful tricks when it is soaked up by the cookie. It is also perfect as a stand-alone drink – and while I was never the sort of person to neck a glass of milk when I was parched – I am perfectly content with a glass of ice-cold rice milk to sip on. I imagine that Santa wouldn’t mind in the slightest. We like: Rice Dream Original, £1.55, Waitrose

For the Health Junkie And now – a curveball. Sure, we all know almond milk. You may already hold a special place in your heart for Oatly. What was once bizarre (you can milk a nut?!?) we have since come to accept without much thought. When I first heard of pea milk, I thought it was a step too far. Come on, milk from peas? I spotted it on offer a couple of months ago and decided to give it a whirl. I am happy to report back that pea milk does not, in fact, taste of peas. It is delightfully creamy, thick like soy but with a very slight savoury edge. It has the highest protein content of all the plant milks, perfect for the gym bunny on the quest for a post-workout smoothie. It is hypoallergenic, so if you have a nut allergy (bless you) – here is your answer to delicious, anaphylactic shock-free plant goodness. We like: Sproud Original Pea Milk, £1.80, Waitrose

It is worth adding that while plant milk is a little pricier than the regular ol’ pint of cow’s milk you can grab from Tesco, it is sometimes worth investing a little more in a product that is better for our planet. Every little counts (a fitting phrase to add in here), even if you just swap out for a plant alternative once a week. One or two varieties are, seemingly, always on offer. Since so many of these are shelf-stable, stocking up whenever a discount hits can save you in the long run. Now go forth and proceed to add oat milk to everything you consume, we’ve all been there.

Image Credit: Sasha Gill

0 notes

derkastellan · 5 years

Text

Review: The Outer Worlds (amended)

Well, color me surprised.

After having watched Jim Sterling’s praise for “The Outer Worlds” (TOW) I went and read the full tvtropes.org page on the game, something which I like to do to learn more about a game or franchise after having experienced it myself (because it will be full of spoilers) or after having decided that I never will. Because you will get a pretty good walk-through of all major themes and ideas present in a given media product and also quite a bit of background trivia.

So here’s a few amendments to what I wrote earlier.

Spoilers will follow...

Invisible starvation?

“The "plague" in Edgewater is caused by nutrient deficiency from a diet consisting entirely of beer and canned fish. There are many such diseases in real life, including pellagra, which was practically an epidemic in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Dr. Joseph Goldberger proved it was caused by niacin (Vitamin B3) deficiency in a series of experiments beginning in 1915, but his results were ignored by the scientific community (who insisted it must be caused by a pathogen, much like the inhabitants of Edgewater) until 1937.“ (tvtropes.org)

There is historical precedent. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that a quality development team like Obsidian’s will actually research quite a bit and put that in their games. But I have a bit of a problem with it - you see, these deficiencies were bad but they weren’t exactly on the verge of eradicating humanity. It essentially remains a plot hole but one made more shallow.

Besides obviously still being here as a species humanity not only survived without this knowledge for more than half a century, we also pulled of a major World War while doing it. So, people got sick, people may have experienced “plague,” but we did not face an extinction event no matter how bad it got. (And I bet worker diet on the turn of century was pretty atrocious, this being the Gilded Age the game tries to project forward into the future.)

So, kudos to doing their research on that one. It invalidates my point certainly that people would notice starvation - they just call it plague.

Are marauders suicidal?

“The most commonly used kind on the planet, Adrenal-thine, results in homicidal rage, paranoia, and depression. It is implied to be responsible for both suicides and the rampant Marauder problem.“ (tvtropes.org)

I should have actually spotted that one in game. In fact I saw it, but it didn’t sink in. Maybe also because the player has no way to do anything about it (as far as I know, could have missed it) and also the player sure does snort the damn stuff in the dozens, so how bad could it be? Admittedly, if you opt for combat you are basically slaughtering your way through hundreds of beings, so maybe “adreno” is indeed bad for you?

What it really explains is why marauders chose to stand around in the most stupid places, attacking on sight. What it doesn’t explain is why these guys gang up? It seems that “adreno” has some vicious way of getting at you, increasing certain emotions but not completely disabling your faculties. Just like the marauders tolerate Zoe (IIRC) as long as she can supply sweet, sweet adreno (another clue), they might just find no other way to deal with their increasingly violent thoughts. We probably should see, however, marauders shoot each other instead of acting like armed gangs and efficient combat teams.

I guess one of the biggest missed opportunities here is giving marauders no cut scenes, no things we can observe them do in-game. They will try to seek us out, do the usual enemy chatter, but they never appear human or conflicted in any way. Maybe so that the player doesn’t mind treating them as cannon fodder?

I wouldn’t bet on it. If adreno abuse was meant to tell us something about the world beyond mere “Look how fucked up it all is”, it would be front and center in some ways, like observing marauders (or “regular” people) having freakouts, episodes, anything to humanize the whole thing. As they stand, marauders are cheap cannon fodder with a flimsy backstory, their placing in levels doesn’t make much sense once you progress to Monarch, etc. That they effectively outnumber settlers is one of these necessary things games do that I find hard to excuse, but TOW is no worse on this than “Fallout 4″. Hardly any game could be...

There is a better way?

I figured that you had to chose between Adelaide and her Botany Lab followers and the inhabitants of Edgewater. Turns out you can achieve a compromise ending here too, making her the mayor of Edgewater. I really tried finding this option originally but I sure didn’t.

I admit being disappointed by the poor ending I got for Edgewater. So it may seem hypocritical if I say I like this less. But in some way I do like it less - not in all but bear with me...

You see, I actually felt conflicted about this choice. It seemed like a forced choice, but it was a moral dilemma because somebody would suffer. If you add in an option where practically no one (but the shitty town mayor and his incompetent cronies) have to suffer, there is no more dilemma. I can have it all. Eat my cake and have it too. All is great.

Now, you see I was disappointed by the poor ending I got for Edgewater but the choice I made I actually thought about. And sometimes you are forced into a bad choice - just like the game does force you, or seemed to do - and have to live with the consequences. (Just like Phineas regretted the deaths he caused.) As long as you have any choice, however, it’s your choice, and if it was carefully weighed, it matters and says something about you.

In real life - a long shot from video games, I admit - there are no guaranteed happy ends, no painless options. Even navigating your life to the absolute optimum will probably cause pain and suffering in others, probably due to their own choices as well, but it will happen. So even if the choice seemed forced - or rather contrived - it had a certain validity to it. I had to overcome some resistance to make either choice which tells me it was an actual dilemma.

Getting another, easy choice defuses this. I mean, it totally makes sense that you don’t have to make life hell for half the colony, believe me. Because, as I’ve repeatedly said, the choice was contrived. It just allows you to cop out from a dilemma because if costs are taken away, there is no dilemma. If there is an optimal solution the others are simply... wrong.

You can get the Iconoclasts and MSI to work together. You are not forced into a choice. And besides confronting a sucky leader about it, no matter how lofty his goals are, is not a big dilemma. Graham is such an idiot in-game, it’s hard to feel morally conflicted about getting rid of him. The easily achievable “third option” is really the only option, proven by the fact that if you facilitate it, you will get twice the support in the endgame. This is the optimal choice and it is only minimally gated behind a few speech checks and doing a little sidequesting.

Combat

Even if your dialogue skill help you in combat that doesn’t validate combat as game element to me. Take “Disco Elysium” (DE). It’s a game about roleplaying a detective, and it’s heavily about the kind of character you build, chose to be, and the choices you make. (Well, which ultimately do not matter, but hey, there had to be a sour grape.) You get tons of great dialogue, intriguing little mysteries to solve, and world detail more than you can really absorb.

And it doesn’t have a combat engine. In a move emulating “Dungeon World” (the tabletop) it fits its combat into the narrative mode. (Then the dev praises himself for this being the new shit on their blog and I feel a bit dirty...) And it is good. I mean, combat is still dominated by skill checks - and DE’s skill engine is brillant! - but it becomes a thing of cleverly crafted choices.

If I compare “Divinity: Original Sin” (D:OS) and its “puzzle combat” mini game then DE wins hands down even though both do essentially turn-based combat and D:OS is hugely popular. Because in D:OS it is simply about a combat balance tilted against you which you try to level by or tilt the other way by finding weak spots, focusing on the right things, making the right combinations. It is indeed a puzzle. And frankly, a boring one.

But DE makes even a regular combat seem like a series of dramatic choices - which it should be! Similarly, TOW makes it so that the choice of weapon and the way you tackle your opponents (somewhat) matter. But there is no true depth to it. That’s what happens when RPGs become shooters. Combat is a nuisance that I usually hope to minimize by optimal gear, sniping from afar, etc. Combat pads games. Combat is either a turn-based mini-game or an exercise in more or less clever and twitchy shooting. Combats engages many players because of the adrenaline rush. But if you look at a clever game like TOW, combat doesn’t really add to it.

Ironically it’s very easy to see the invisible game side of things in TOW. You can rely on enemies not opening doors, you can rely on them not patrolling. You are in a room without enemies, you can assume you can loot it in peace. Even stupid spawny quests like the Boston Library in “Fallout 4″ felt more risky because enemies would spawn and seek you out, feeling more dynamic than the whole of TOW even with the cheapest bag of tricks.

It certainly benefited my plodding game style where I resolve a combat, than start to look around, heal wounds, etc. I probably would have finished the game in 30 hours including sidequests if I hadn’t played it so safe. And the game enables you. Because its sense of risk is quickly exposed as limited.

Conclusion

TOW is doing better on many counts than I have admitted earlier. It is a good game. But with such a good, polished title by such a competent studio it hurts if it misses out on true greatness. It is not that the game is bad, it is that it could have been even better.

About midgame my engagement with the whole thing was flagging. And as the Jimquisition pointed out, TOW does not, not in the least, try to get between you and your fun. It’s easy to control, easy to master, it adds a lot of flashy stuff like companion special abilities (which I never used) and science weapons (which I never really ended up using after getting them all) to enhance its already somewhat diverse gunplay.

Still, I’m not in it for the shooting. And though it is a competently done shooter, much better than “Fallout 4″ or predecessors for example, I somehow feel like my 41 hours of gameplay were padded out with way too much combat. The actual fun in the game was in its dialogue and when it was clever, not when you shoot stuff. And Monarch was so chockful of stuff to shoot, it got annoying.

Is there a clever quest in this game I will really, really remember? I’m not sure. None comes to mind right now. The grindy “I have to loot or buy some gear and model it, then loot some stuff off of monster” comes to mind immediately, only not as a positive example. The fact that you can bypass combat, sometimes make robots murder each other or the opposition... that doesn’t change the fact that the game is often heavily about stretches of combat or combat evasion.

I wish there had been more actual world-stuff to justify this. More places with living residents. More small stuff. Less shoot-to-kill stuff. I think once you’ve made the monsters and the shooting engine, it’s easy to repeat that. But each new line of dialogue needs voice-acting now. Fair enough. But that’s what role-playing to me is all about. The endless walls of text of DE were fine by me, and also the choice to voice-act only key passages and key people. I dig this stuff. I was heavily impressed with the absence of meaningless combat.

TOW is a good game. And I hope there will be better games to follow, that they will evolve it. They’re off to a good, solid start. Better than Bethesda for sure. No keep reaching, don’t get complacent.

#the outer worlds #obsidian #science fiction #scifi roleplay

0 notes

imperialtrellis · 7 years

Note

Please rattle off more interesting caste cases!

Anonymous said to imperialtrellis: Can you rattle off interesting caste cases from other countries too please, I want to hear them

{context}

somehow I knew this was going to happen.

(Preemptive note for anyone who’s about to come complaining about things being so rare it shouldn’t be countable: there are 13 billion people on our planet. Something with a one in a million chance has reasonably happened 13 thousand times just among people alive right now).

Alright,

Caste shenanigans: babies

So an actually comparatively common one is, anytime in a patrilineal country when someone who does the ‘two hookups with new people every day’ in spring thing gets pregnant and decides they want to keep the baby and go for an aftermarket credit and not only doesn’t know who the father actually is but doesn’t even know how to contact a good bit of the potentials so they can’t even do a test.

Obviously there’s an incentive around for the mother to just say it was the caste with the currently cheapest aftermarket credit (since the ordering of those doesn’t actually always track with the ordering of auction prices this can sometimes vary) (and some incentive to say something else if they want a kid of a particular caste for some reason and have figured out how to afford it). And then places divide between being fine with this vs going matrilineal for these cases. (There was a rather elaborate proposal at some point about genetic testing and trying to figure out the father’s caste that way, but it ran into a) medical issues and b) first you then have to figure all your standards out, and then no doubt someone’s going to try to take it to court…)

There’s one place where three part marriages are common enough and if it’s two husbands it’s considered really insulting to try and figure out who the ‘real’ father is. They’re matrilineal, but it means in a most mixed case you can have a kid having two parents of castes they’re not actually in one of whom they’re not genetically related to. And in a two-and-one case you can have a kid who’s similar to say a half yellow in terms of being raised even though they’re in fact all green.

There was the case in Voa where a couple who came in on tourist visas decided to try to have a kid while there and weren’t caught until they had the kid (no I have no idea how or why they thought this was going to work…). And their country was patrilineal so there was a bit of a debate (that was also all tangled up in the legal issues and who was supposed to deal with what and all).

There’s the completely bizarre case that’s I guess kind of the opposite of mine where the couple decided they were going to have a kid on a boat in international waters and, uh, just live there, and then that went about as well as you’d expect but somehow not in a way where anyone died and their countries also had different caste inheritance rules and it was a mess all around. (And someone wrote this op-ed about how if only one of them was from Tapa haha and then a bunch of people jumped on him and there was an extra mess too.)

If anyone’s familiar with intersexuality, ‘caste matches parent’ countries can have that come up, and there’s been stuff around changes caused by the fact that advances in medicine means there’s information we can tell now that we couldn’t longer ago.

Of course there’s always blues from whatever is -lineal in their countries who want to do the ‘side family’ thing anyway and try to arrange for their partners to pretend the other parent was whatever caste they want to buy a credit for. For obvious reason this tends to men, but there’s a non zero number of women who tried or succeeded at the ‘I’m going to take a long spring vacation at my isolated vacation home and oh look one of the staff has had a baby what happy news’ thing, and now a non zero number of women who try to finagle things with surrogacy.

(I’m actually pretty sure this one’s underreported - it’s in some ways even easier than the usual because you can arrange with a couple and then no one needs to make up excuses about where the missing parent is, the pregnant person does get to end the pregnancy with a baby to take care of, and the couple can often get a chunk of money toward their own baby a future year and can usually count on some amount of nice stuff for the kid down the line. And as long as the doctor’s discrete and there’s no really obvious blue hair incidents, it’s pretty unlikely anyone’s finding out.)

(Ever since I found out that Met officially does matrilineality by womb I’ve been very curious about this kind of thing going down there because it looks like you could get it done and not even have to do anything illegal or quasi-legal, though I haven’t gotten around to actually looking into it.)

Also people usually talk about this one with credits, but while it’s hard to get numbers you definitely have cases in permissions countries with blues who can grant kids to other castes but not themselves who, um, utilize this solution to that.

Oh, and while the stereotype about this is blues greens do sometimes do it too, especially in the places where greens are permissions too and other castes are credits.

Caste shenanigans: not babies

So with kids while as demonstrated things are not as straightforward as they might often be presented, in the end usually some decision gets made and the kid has a caste to be raised as and all that. This remains of a lot of interest to caste freedom type people re the arbitrary vs natural categories discussion, but it does often enough have that ultimate conclusion for those involved.

And - of course, sometimes it doesn’t.

Cases like Afen Kisantami where there’s no legal claim but it’s put through anyway are - I’m not going to say it never happens, I’m guessing there’ve been other cases where someone had the right combo of aptitude and influence to get it to stick, but there’s certainly not many, at least in recent history.

Cases like Afen’s kids where someone really wants something and decides to try to leverage having some claim come up a bit more.

For the side families case this is fairly rare with blues, which I think is generally because the blues have been doing this a while and have the organization to block things off, though there’s been a few cases where an only heir ends up dead or unable to have more kids and suddenly look a lovely grandchild materializes. Greens seem to have a slightly higher rate of trying to claim the kid later on, usually when ‘green has since ended up with more money’ and ‘kid is displaying aptitude the green parent is interested in’ intersect. Since greens generally have less ability to make inconvenient admissions to fraud go away, this is usually guys playing the ‘there was that night of passion right when she was trying to get pregnant and I just recently ran into her again and thought the kid’s eyes looked just like mine!’ card.

For the ‘yeah I’m not going to be able to round up everyone I slept with’ case there’s a few versions - kid grows up and has some trait that makes it in retrospect clearer who dad was, mom actually knew all along but wanted the cheaper credit and she plays the ‘I saw him and recognized his eyes’ card, someone or other actually runs into each other and recognizes eyes… If everyone around is fine with kid’s caste this will usually be left to lie; if someone isn’t you get stuff.

And of course intercaste cheating accusations are always… fun, but if the cheating comes up not right away and the -lineal’s in the right direction that’s also a thing.

(In as much as you can observe trends on such fairly small numbers, how these things then end up seems to mostly hinge on the judge of whatever court stuff goes up before, or else on the amount of either influence or indifference one has to avoid the judge route.)

#amenta rp #luminousalicorn #asks #anonymous #ooc: thanks again to Alicorn for canonicity okness checking #I post #castes #caste freedom #met #dyadic person talking about intersex things cw

16 notes · View notes

wildflowerhowell · 7 years

Text

I Found, chapter 11

Dan Howell and Phil Lester hate each other, and everyone at the Ida Gatley school of dance knows it. So what happens when the two are paired together to choreograph and perform a duet at England’s most renowned contemporary dance competition?

word count (in total): 22,139

chapters: 12

genre: fluff and angst

tw: alcohol

read on ao3

all chapters

Phil put their blanket down on the sand and sat down while Dan set out all the food they’d brought: a baguette, goat cheese, some strawberries, and the cheapest champagne Phil could find. The younger boy wanted to get something more expensive but Phil agreed to buy the champagne and insisted on the cheapest bottle in the store.

“This is probably the fanciest thing I’ve eaten in years,” Dan said as he took a seat on the white blanket next to Phil.

“It’s not even that fancy,” replied Phil as he ripped off the end of the baguette.

“I know,” Dan laughed and reached over to grab a strawberry. He looked out at the water for a minute, watching the sun begin to set in an orange blur across the horizon. “Y’know,” He said as he took the glass of champagne that Phil was holding out to him, “I’m kinda really glad that Grasp is over.”

“I thought you really enjoyed it.”

“Oh, I loved it. But I guess the end of the competition almost signified a fresh start, you get what I mean? Before we started to prepare for the competition, we hated each other. Then, we became friends because of the competition. And now…. Well, now, we’re more than that, I guess.” Dan blushed a bit as he looked over at Phil, who chuckled nervously.

“We should probably uh… talk about that?”

“Yeah.” Dan looked down at his glass, unsure of what to say.

“So um,” Phil started talking, much to Dan’s relief, “I know this is really new but I wanna be completely honest. A little bit after I turned seventeen, I started to like you. And I couldn’t let anyone know, so I started being even more cruel towards you. I know that’s such an awful thing to do, but how could anyone guess that I liked you if I treated you like that, y’know?” When the older boy saw Dan nod in understanding, he continued. “So I went on like that for a whole year. It hurt me so much to act like that but I felt like if you found out, my life at the studio would be even more awful. But then we started working together on the dance and we became friends and that was one of the best things to happen to me in a while. I thought that if you knew I had feelings for you but didn’t feel the same way, you wouldn’t totally ruin my life. So when I finally mustered up the courage, I kissed you. And here we are now.”

Dan could see the relief all over Phil’s face, clearly thankful to have told him all of that, and the younger boy felt relieved to hear it.

“So,” Phil took a sip of Champagne, “What’s your story?”

“Well,” Dan sighed, looking out at the sloshing waves and disappearing sun, “To be honest, I didn’t realize I had feelings for you until you kissed me. But looking back on this past month, I’ve definitely liked you for at least a few weeks. When you started being nicer to me, it was like a switch flipped in my brain. I was always afraid that the next time we’d see each other, you’d just go back to acting the way you had before. I started to love spending time with you, and I looked forward to our choreography sessions more and more each day I’d see you. I guess I just thought my feelings for you were purely platonic because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone before. I’d obviously liked all of my other boyfriends a lot, but I like you so much more than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”

Dan looked back over to see a huge grin unfold onto Phil’s face.

“I’m really glad you feel that way about me,” Phil said, throwing the top of a strawberry into the bag they were using for trash. “It would have been really embarrassing for me if you didn’t like me.”

“No shit,” Dan snickered, leaning in to kiss Phil.

“Hey,” Phil pulled away, “Just now, you said you’d never felt this way for any of your other boyfriends.” He smirked, and a bright shade of red enveloped Dan’s face. “Does that mean you think of me as your boyfriend?”

“I mean,” Dan said, still blushing, “We both like each other a lot and we’ve kissed multiple times, so yeah, I’d say we’re boyfriends. If that’s good with you, of course.”

Phil smirked. “That’s perfect with me. Kinda been wanting that for a year.”

Dan gave Phil a sympathetic look. “That must’ve sucked.”

“Yeah, but it worked out in the end.”

“True,” Dan said, moving closer to Phil so that he could rest his head on the older boy’s shoulder.

The two boys looked out over the water, which had been turned a dark navy by the sun that was now below the horizon, leaving only a faded orange sky in its wake. They could see the moon and a few stars scattered around the atmosphere, becoming more and more visible as the sky darkened. It was peaceful. A type of peaceful that Dan and Phil rarely got to experience living with their ever-hectic schedules. Just sitting there on that blanket, feeling so small in comparison to the vast sea that was in front of them was comforting. With Phil by his side, Dan didn’t want to leave.

“So I’ve been wondering,” Phil broke Dan’s train of thought with a soft voice, “What made you act so hostile towards me in the first place?”

Dan chuckled, remembering his dumb nine year-old self. “Well, up until you came to the studio, I’d always been the best at everything I did. I got the best marks, I was the best at playing piano, I sucked at art but I was still the best in my year. When I started dancing, I was the best in my level. Being the best was what I was used to. And then you came along. It came as a shock to me, how good you were at dancing. So I did everything in my power to be better than you. I tried training harder, and when I saw you train as hard as I did, I just started being mean. Yeah, talking about my feelings with someone probably would have been the better choice but I was young and scared of losing my reputation.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Phil nodded, taking in the new information. “I’m just glad we got that whole thing sorted out.”

“Well duh,” Dan baited, leaning further into Phil.

“Wait, how did I not know that you play piano? I’m a little hurt,” Phil teased, although it was true that he didn’t know about Dan’s ability to play the instrument.

“I just… never told you?”

“Y’know, we haven’t actually had the chance to really get to know each other. We should probably do that if we’re gonna be boyfriends.”

“Yeah,” Dan laughed, sitting up again to look at Phil, “That sounds like a pretty good idea.”

“Okay, ask me anything you want.”

Dan pondered for a second, trying to come up with a good question to ask. “Ooh, got it. What’s your favorite thing to do besides dance?”

“Easy. I make art.”

“Art? Like paintings?”

“Yeah, mostly watercolour. Sometimes I do drawings. Most of my stuff is stylized but I’ll occasionally do some realistic art.”

“Dude, that’s so cool,” Dan said excitedly, “Do you have any pictures?”

“Yeah,” Phil replied as he grabbed his phone, which had been resting on the blanket next to him. The older boy unlocked it and went to his camera roll, opening up an album that contained pictures of his art, letting Dan scroll through them as he pleased.

Dan could quickly see that Phil mainly painted people. There was one painting of two girls, twins, with lilac hair and glittering crescent moons on their foreheads. One painting was of a girl with teal hair that had white line drawings of koi fish swimming around her head. Another piece was of a boy with huge flowers growing all around him. Phil’s art was beautiful. Every piece was amazingly detailed and all of the colors worked perfectly together. Dan stared at the photos in awe, wondering how Phil was not only so good at dancing, but incredibly talented at painting as well.

“These are so fucking good,” Dan marveled, “How do you have time for all this?”

“I manage to get a lot done in art class at school,” Phil said, “But I also paint at home whenever I get the chance.”

“Damn,” Dan said, handing the phone back to Phil.

“Okay. My turn to ask a question.” Phil sat in silence, coming up with something to ask. “So. If you suddenly won a million pounds, what’s the first thing you’d do with it?”

“Good question. I think I’d save most of it, donate to a few different charities, and buy a TV for my room. My best friend and I always have to watch stuff on my laptop if my older brother’s watching the TV in the lounge. It pisses us off.”

“Nice answer,” Phil nodded in approval. “Wait. haven’t I met your best friend?”

“I think he’s only seen you when he’s come to performances, but I don’t think you’ve talked to each other.”

“I could have sworn I’ve met him. Guess not, though”

“Oh wait, yes you have,” Dan said, suddenly remembering the encounter at the Hyde Park. “You two met at the rose garden.”

“Oh yeah! I was such a jackass that day, sorry about that.” Phil giggled. “I thought he was your boyfriend.”

The younger boy blushed. “Oh, God no. Anyways, I’ve got a question. What’s something on your bucket list?”

“Hmm. I really wanna travel.”

“Where?” Dan leaned back, putting his weight on his left hand and taking a sip of champagne with his left.

“All over Europe. Paris, Berlin, Milan, Vienna. I love Europe’s old architecture and culture. I also really wanna go to Tokyo someday. New York City, too. I just eventually wanna travel all over the world and see as much as I can.”

“Ugh, that sounds amazing. I really wanna travel, too. Alright, ask me something.”

Phil ripped off a piece of the baguette, thinking. “Do you believe in aliens?”

“Absolutely,” Dan said almost immediately, “How could I not? The universe is just so fucking big, there has to be life on other planets.”

Phil nodded. “I know right? I don’t know how there are people that don’t believe in them. Alright, ask me something.”

“Um, what do you like about your best friend?”

“Well,” Phil contemplated, “Her name is Ryan. I love how passionate she is about everything she does. She fully invests herself, y’know? She manages to keep her grades up while being an actress and artist at the same time. She dances a little bit, too. She’s there for me whenever I need her. You really need to meet her,” Phil said with a glimmer in his eyes, “I think you’d love her.”

Dan gave Phil a fond look. When the older boy was talking about Ryan, Dan had noticed how lovingly he was talking about his best friend. It was adorable. The younger boy set his now-empty glass down on the blanket and reached up to rest his hand on the side of Phil’s face. It was getting to be quite dark out, but Dan could see the creases around Phil’s eyes as he smiled, leaning in to kiss the brown haired boy. A breeze swept their hair into their faces and Dan giggled as Phil pulled away from the kiss to push the younger boy’s curls away from his forehead.

The lights from the Brighton Pier danced in the distance, illuminating its surroundings with a soft, colorful glow. Waves washed up onto the shore, and then receded back into the ocean. Dan hadn’t felt this happy in a while. He was sitting under the moon next to the boy that he could now call his boyfriend, the boy he’d won the Gold Award at a renowned contemporary dance competition with. Everything was perfect. Dan knew that he and Phil would have to go back to normal life the following day, but in this moment, he didn’t care. He was living life to the fullest until he had to go back to London, and that was all that mattered.

The two boys stayed at the beach for another 45 minutes, talking about everything from future careers to their favorite dog breeds. Once they both got bored of the ocean, which was now blanketed in darkness and therefore hard to even see, they packed up everything they’d brought with them. Phil called an Uber to take them back to their hotel, and they walked hand in hand away from the waves.

“Alright, what now?” Phil looked up at Dan, who was drying his hair off with a towel.

The boys got back at around 10 pm, and each took showers before deciding on what to do with the rest of the night. It kind of went unsaid that they’d be sharing a bed that night, as they both flung their jackets onto Dan’s bed when they arrived back at the Hotel. For Dan, it was exhilarating, knowing that he’d be spending the night snuggled up next to Phil. He was honestly up for whatever as long as it meant cuddling with the black haired boy.

“Movie?” Dan looked over at the older boy, who was sitting on his bed in pyjamas, hair slightly damp as well.

“Sure,” Phil said as he reached for the TV remote, “Do you have one in mind?”

“Not really, let’s just look through what movies we can watch.” Dan tossed his towel into the bathroom as Phil began to scroll through the options listed on the TV.

“Let’s see. There’s Ghostbusters, La La Land, Fantastic Beasts….” Phil listed out possible choices as Dan climbed into bed, leaning back against the pillows.

“Ooh, wait,” Dan butted in, “What about Arrival?”

Phil, who had been leaning forward, turned his head to look at the younger boy. “Yeah, I’ve heard it’s good.”

“Dude, I’ve seen it already, it’s good. No spoilers, but there’s this one point where everything you thought you knew completely changes and-”

“Calm down, let me actually watch the movie.”

“Oh, sorry,” Dan said bashfully.

“I hope the competition will pay for this,” Phil said as he bought the movie.

“Eh, paying for it yourself will be worth it. If not, I can always pay you back.”

“Oh, shut up,” Phil countered, getting up to turn all of the lights off, “You will not.”

“Not complaining,” Dan smirked and extended his left arm across the pillows as an invitation for Phil to lay back and cuddle up next to him.

Phil positioned himself next to Dan, resting his head in the crook of the younger boy’s neck, an arm reaching across his torso. Dan wrapped the arm that Phil was now leaning against around his shoulder, pulling him in closer.

This is so perfect, Dan thought to himself as the movie started to play. Just a month ago if anyone told me that this would be happening, I would have called them crazy. But look at me now. He looked down at Phil and kissed the top of his head, and the older boy squeezed Dan’s torso for a second in return. A huge grin unfurled on Dan’s slightly freckled face. Yeah, this is fucking amazing.

The movie played for a good hour or so until Dan realized that Phil had fallen asleep. God damn it, he didn’t even get to the mindfuck part, Dan sighed to himself as he reached for the remote and paused the movie. He gently removed his arm from around the older boy and moved two pillows out from under his head, leaving just one to sleep on. He then threw two of his own pillows to the ground and turned the TV off; it had been the only source of light in the room since they’d started the movie.

Dan curled up next to Phil, reminiscing on the day’s events. In just one day, he’d been kissed by the person he’d had a rivalry with for years, won the Gold Award at Grasp, and become boyfriends with the aforementioned boy. He didn’t have a list of the top weirdest days in his life, but if he did, this day would definitely be on it. Just as he was drifting off into sleep, his phone lit up on the bedside table next to him, the screen illuminating the room. He groggily rolled over and reached for the device. When he saw that Liam was calling, he shot up and answered the call immediately

“Shit,” Dan said apologetically, “I was supposed to tell you how it went.”

“You were,” Liam replied, “But it’s alright ‘cause you’re still awake.”

“Fuck, so much has happened today. You probably won’t believe a lot of it.”

“Doubt it. So what happened?”

“Okay,” Dan said quietly, trying not to wake Phil up. “We got to the theater, did our hair and makeup, got into costume. Y’know, all the stuff dancers usually do before a show. After that, we had time to spare, so we played a game of truth or dare which was hilarious, played around on our phones, and stretched. Then-”

“Dan, I appreciate how you’re going into detail, but I just wanna know how you placed, to be honest.”

“Shut up! Something happened before the performance that you need to know about.”

“Ugh, alright.”

“So this dude came into our dressing room and told us we were about to go on, and he lead us to this hallway just outside the theater and Phil was being all quiet but I just assumed it was because he’s nervous.”

“Okay….”

“And when I asked him about it… he kissed me.”

Silence. Dan had expected Liam to freak out and start asking a thousand questions, but instead, he just heard silence. He had to check to make sure Liam hadn’t accidentally hung up. He hadn’t.

“So,” Liam finally spoke, “You’re telling me that you’ve had a feud with this boy for, what, seven years now? And just before your duet together, he kisses you.”

“Yep.”

“Well, what did you do?”

“At first, I was just confused. But I didn’t really have time to think about my feelings because that same dude came back and told us it was our turn to perform.”

“And how was that?” Liam was obviously more interested in this story now that he knew that Phil had kissed Dan.

“It was fucking amazing, I’ve never heard an audience applaud that loudly for a piece I was in.”

“So you won Platinum?”

“I’ll get to that. So after we walk offstage and out into that hallway again, I kissed Phil. I guess I realized that the feelings I had when I was around him weren’t just platonic. It was amazing, I-”

“You really don’t need to go into detail about that.”

“Oh, right, sorry. Okay, so the award ceremony rolls around. Two dancers win Bronze, and two others win Silver. And we won Gold!”

“Dude, you totally deserved Platinum.”

“I mean, I guess this means we have to back next year with an even better dance, right?”

“Did they invite you back already?”

“No, but I assume they will. We did get second place. And Phil and I are the two best dancers at the studio so unless next year’s theme is solos, we’ll both be going back.”

“Damn, your day has been wild.”

“That’s not all!”

“There’s more?” Liam sighed through the phone, “I’m tired, Dan!”

“Yes, there’s more. But long story short, Phil and I went on a date to the beach and we’re officially together now. And that’s all.”

“I guess I’ve gotta properly meet him now, don’t I?”

“Duh. And he told me about his best friend, Ryan. He said I’d love her, so we should all hang out sometime.”

“Definitely. Well, congrats on your Gold Award and enemy-turned-boyfriend. I’m gonna sleep now.”

“Alright. G’night.”

“Night,” Liam ended the phone call.

Dan smiled and set his phone back down on the bedside table. It felt good to tell someone else about his relationship with Phil. He laid back down next to the older boy, who threw an arm around his torso.

“You awake?” Dan whispered, turning onto his side to face Phil.

“Yeah,” The black haired boy said faintly. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

Dan beamed. “Thank you,” He giggled. “You are too.”

Phil leaned in and kissed Dan. The younger boy couldn’t help but smile as he wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck, tangling his hands in his raven hair, kissing him back.

Phil pulled away and rested his head on the other dancer’s forehead. “I don’t wanna have to go back to London tomorrow.”

Dan stroked the older boy’s cheek. “Me neither. But we’ll be back next year.” He rolled onto his back, keeping one arm wrapped around Phil, who rested his head on Dan’s chest. “Good night, Phil.”

“Good night.”

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #phandom #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #wildflowerhowell

10 notes · View notes

loltraumabrain · 4 years

Text

Ugh. Just Ugh.

Okay so we’ve been in the UK almost a year now, and we’re moving house. This has been the most batshit unpleasant palaver I have EVER experienced in my life, and I’m including a good portion of the divorce and the move across the Atlantic in that estimation, because if there’s one thing I fucking hate it’s being homeless and in the US I’ve only ever had to do it for twenty four hours but at the minute we’re in the middle of a two and a half week stint.

[I am aware that people who are permanently homeless have it worse. This is a venting blog. Fuck off with your oppression/depression/grimdark olympics]

First off, the UK rental system seems designed to stress everyone the fuck out. We’ve been looking for a place since April and only got accepted for one on August 18th, the day before our lease ended. You’ll notice this is being written on August 26th. I’ll get to that. The reason for this extraordinary length of time searching is that a) once you find a place you like, you have to put in an application and wait for the landlord to get back to you. During the time you are waiting, the place is still on the market, and the damn landlords can take their sweet fucking time responding. We had an application in on one place for two and a half weeks before we got accepted for the one we’re going to move into. It’s also not advisable to put in more than one application at once, because if more than one landlord accepts your application at the same time, you’re on the hook for a weeks worth of rent no matter what.

SO. We have to move out by the 19th and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that we’re not going to find a place to move into in time. So what do two pretty broke millennials with a cat do? We try to find a place to crash for two weeks. I’ve got friends and family in the UK, it shouldn’t be too tricky, right? Except coronavirus is a thing. So not only am I trying desperately not to get on any kind of public transportation because tbh I should really be shielding and nowhere NEAR public transportation, but the more elderly of my relatives (coincidentally also the ones with the most space and ability to deal with two people and a cat for two weeks) aren’t really comfortable with us crashing there for completely understandable reasons. Because they’re 80. So now I’m freaking out but my amazing wonderful fabulous friend came through and said we could stay with her for the first week (not for the second because her partner’s kid sister and father had already made plans to come and stay and they are also obviously super COVID conscious as a teacher and a literal child. But it’s a week. Time to get our bearings and sort something else out right?

HAHAHAHA you must not have read a lot of the posts round here.

We spend the whole week trying to find somewhere to crash. Finally my cousin (who lives way the fuck out in Bristol but beggars can’t be choosers) very kindly says we can crash with him, but he’s uncomfortable with us bringing the cat because he has a new puppy and he’s worried the puppy will do damage to the cat. Fair enough. So we call every. single. one. of my remaining friends and family in the UK to see if someone can take the cat for a week. No dice. So we look into catteries. They’re pretty damn expensive and it’s at this point that my friend suggests we just try to get a hotel room in a place that allows cats and is super cheap. They have a point. So we abandon our super complicated attempts to get to Bristol (and believe me, I had a meltdown and a half about those because we had to ask so many people for so many favours and I was massively uncomfortable about this) and just get a hotel room at a really cheap hotel super close to where my angel friend lives.

Oh did I mention that by this point due to pharmacy fuckups I haven’t had my meds for like three weeks? Yeahhhh. Not good.

Now while we were packing to move out and sorting out the one suitcase to put stuff in for the two and a half weeks ahead of us, I completely forgot that other people do not have sensory issues. I’ve always had them to varying degrees of severity (the more anxious/uncomfortable/generally miserable I am, the worse they get. Oh look). So I forgot to pack most of my comfy pants (thank god I put my soft leggings in) and my fluffy socks that really help with the sensory issues. Normally I don’t need them so much because we have sheets that don’t trigger them very badly when they do at all. I managed mostly well at my friend’s house because while they weren’t ideal, they weren’t awful and I was in a super safe spot that I wasn’t worried about. But when we decided to book the hotel, I forgot one massive thing about cheap hotels: their sheets and almost every other surface are THE WORST on the planet for sensory issues, bar none. And the hotel in general just makes me want to slit my wrists. OH. And because we are broke millennials, we got the cheapest rate. Which means the hotel room we will be living in for the next ten days has no mini fridge, no decent workspace, nothing to eat on (the takeout places here do not provide cutlery apparently), and no way to prepare food if we don’t feel like spending waay too much money on takeout every night. My angel friend let us borrow her spare microwave from when they moved for the week (she is absolutely amazing and I have no idea how I’m ever going to repay her for this but I. Will. Try. Goddammit), but we’re still SOL for the rest of it. Which means my brain is pitching an absolute fit. Which means, among other things, my sensory issues are going crazy which is making the anxiety worse because I literally can’t put my feet on the bed, which makes the sensory issues worse which makes yada yada yada you get it. I’m probably going to have to sleep on the floor tonight and tomorrow we’ll have to go out in public (which is something I have not done since the beginning of lockdown because I’m terrified) to try to go to the shops and get some microwaveable meals that don’t involve being frozen and a decent set of pyjamas and socks that covers the majority of my exposed skin so I can sleep.

And this will be my life until the 4th. Because COVID so it’s not like I can really leave the hotel for anything other than super necessary shit.

Am not okay. Send help.

#fuck this shit #homeless #wtf is this #no meds #sensory issues #symptomatic #cw: self harm mention #covid #moving #stressed tf out

0 notes

janetchavezcom · 5 years

Text

Things You Should Know Before Renting A Car & Driving In Morocco

Tips For Renting A Car In Morocco

Morocco Driving Guide

Renting a car in Morocco and driving yourself is a great way to experience this beautiful country. But there are a few things you should know before you embark on a road trip.

When Anna and I were planning our first trip to Morocco together, we were initially hesitant about renting a car to explore the country by ourselves.

Morocco has a bit of a reputation for crazy driving (and drivers!).

But the more we researched, the more we realized renting a car in Morocco wouldn’t be as difficult as we thought, plus it would save us a lot of money.

We love the freedom of road trips and planning our own travel itineraries. Morocco is such a diverse country that it made sense to rent a car so we could stop anywhere exploring local villages, mountains, and deserts at our own pace.

Here are some important tips we learned from our experience renting a car in Morocco, to help you save money and stay safe while driving around the country!

What To Know Before Renting A Car In Morocco

Driving in Morocco was Awesome!

Should You Rent A Car In Morocco?

Hey, if you’re a fan of bus tours, by all means, go book one. It’s a decent way to see Morocco if you don’t have a lot of time.

No planning, no driving, just sit back and let someone else do all the work!

But if you’re like me, you prefer the challenge of independent travel.

True adventure, with no set schedule or timetable. Driving around Morocco with the freedom to stop anywhere fun you happen to find along the way.

If that’s the kind of traveler you are, renting a car in Morocco is the way to go!

Just keep in mind that driving times in Morocco can be longer then Google tells you. It helps if you have someone else to split the driving with.

Another nice thing about having a car was the ability to store things in the trunk, so you can explore cities with small daypacks rather than lugging around a giant backpack or suitcase.

Where To Rent Your Car In Morocco

The best site to book your car is Discover Car Hire. They search both local and international car rental companies to help you find the best possible price. This is the easiest way to rent a car in Morocco.

We rented our car from the capital city of Marrakech, taking a Southern road trip route towards Ouarzazate before heading on to Merzouga and the Sahara desert.

From the desert we drove North to the blue city of Chefchaouen for a few days, finally ending in Fez where we dropped off the car and flew out of the country. However there are many different types of routes you can take.

Why Did the Camel Cross the Road?

Car Rental Insurance In Morocco

Some of the rumors about driving in Morocco are true, and people can drive crazy here. That’s why I highly recommend getting full insurance coverage.

Typically, rental cars in Morocco come with a basic Collision Damage Waiver (CDW), but this isn’t exactly insurance, and only covers the car for up to 10,000 dirhams ($1000 USD) worth of damage.

While you can often save money if you book your car with a credit card that includes car rental insurance, you REALLY need to read the fine print, because many people wrongly assume their card covers everything, in any country.

If you get in a wreck driving in Morocco, decided to decline full insurance coverage, and you suddenly learn your credit card doesn’t actually cover the damage — you’re screwed.

This is why I usually pre-book full coverage through Discover Car Hire for about $9 a day. It’s cheaper than at the counter.

Driving through the Moroccan Desert

How Much Does It Cost To Rent A Car In Morocco?

Renting a car in Morocco is going to cost you around $25-$40 USD a day, depending on the type of car you get. Our 4 door sedan was about $30 per day.

I recommend renting a car with an actual trunk (no hatchbacks) to hide your luggage from prying eyes. It helps prevent break-ins if thieves can’t see your stuff.

Gas (petrol) prices in Morocco might seem cheap to Americans, but remember that the rest of the world quotes gas in Liters, not Gallons (1 Gallon = 3.78 Liters).

Currently, gas costs about $4 per gallon in Morocco. Remember that diesel cars are often cheaper in gas consumption than regular gasoline too.

Age Requirements For Renting A Car

The minimum age for driving in Morocco is 18 years old, however most car rental companies enforce their own age limit of 21 years old to rent a car.

Stopping Anywhere is One of the Perks of Renting a Car

Moroccan Driving Laws Tourists Should Know

The speed limits in Morocco are generally 60 kph in urban areas and 120 kph on highways. Police speed traps are very common, so pay attention to your speed.

I was actually pulled over for speeding during our road trip outside Ouarzazate, but they let me go after paying a small “fine” (bribe?) of 150 dirhams (about $15 USD).

You might also encounter the occasional police roadblock, but often they just wave tourists through. Or they’ll simply ask you where you’re headed.

Moroccans drive on the right side of the road, just like in the United States. So you shouldn’t have any issues there (unless you’re British!).

International Driver’s License

No, you do not need an international driver’s license to drive in Morocco or rent a car there. Just bring your passport, credit card, and your driver’s license from your home country.

Switchbacks in the Atlas Mountains

Tips For Driving In Morocco

Learn how to navigate the roundabout! Morocco is full of roundabouts rather than stoplights, and if you’re new to them, you might piss off the locals or get in a fender-bender.

Road traffic in Morocco comes in all types, sizes, and species! Be prepared to dodge scooters, over-filled trucks, buses, bicycles, donkeys, sheep, camels, pedestrians, and more. It can be mayhem at times, especially in the cities.

Honking your horn in Morocco is a form of everyday communication. It means all sorts of things, not just “get out of my way!” Honk your horn to thank people for letting you pass, or to encourage a troupe of camels to hurry up. Don’t be afraid of your horn!

Try to avoid driving in Morocco at night. Street lighting is minimal, and road markings can be too. Not to mention people or animals suddenly appearing in the middle of the road.

Many Moroccans will use their turn signals to let you know when it’s safe to pass them. For example, a big slow moving truck going uphill. They’ll hit their blinkers when the road is clear ahead, so you don’t have to guess.

Advice For Renting A Car In Morocco

Don’t book a car without reading the company reviews. Obviously you’ll find plenty of bad reviews for every company (people love to complain online), but try to pick one with the LEAST bad reviews.

Remember that you may not always get the make/model/type of car you booked. If they give you a smaller car, or a manual when you asked for an automatic, be pushy and ask for an upgrade.

Beware of mysterious “cleaning fee” hidden charges. If it’s not in your contract, you don’t have to pay it.

English is not spoken widely. You’ll have an easier time if you speak some French or Arabic. Communication isn’t impossible, but be patient.

Inspect your car thoroughly and record video on your smartphone pointing out damage before you leave. This is a backup if they try to charge you for damage that was already there.

Pay special attention to the interior too. A common rental car scam is getting charged for “cigarette burns” on the seats — that they conveniently “forget” to mark on the original damage form.

Make sure your tank is full before you leave. Some car rental companies in Morocco will start you with an empty gas tank, forcing you to fill up immediately.

Enjoy Your Moroccan Road Trip!

Exploring the small villages, hidden canyons, colorful mountains, and vast deserts of Morocco in a rental car was definitely the right choice for us.

Road trips let you get off the beaten track to see things most people miss! ★

➜ Check Car Rental Prices & Availability In Morocco

Travel Planning Resources For Morocco

Packing Guide

Check out my travel gear guide to help you start packing for your trip. Pick up a travel backpack, camera gear, and other useful travel accessories.

Book Your Flight

Find cheap flights on Skyscanner. This is my favorite search engine to find deals on airlines. Also make sure to read how I find the cheapest flights.

Rent A Car

Discover Car Hire is a great site for comparing car prices to find a deal.

Book Accommodation

Booking.com is my favorite hotel search engine. Or rent apartments from locals on Airbnb. Read more about how I book cheap hotels online.

Protect Your Trip

Don’t forget travel insurance! I’m a big fan of World Nomads for short-term trips. Protect yourself from possible injury & theft abroad. Read more about why you should always carry travel insurance.

Recommended Guidebook: Lonely Planet Morocco Suggested Reading: In Arabian Nights

Enjoy This Post? Pin It!