#on a tangent but it really reminded me of some very nice slice of life manga i used to read a long time ago | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jimlingss · 5 years

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Jungle Park [23]

Chapter 22 - Chapter 23 - Chapter 24 [Finale]

➜ Words: 4.4k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ NOTES: This chapter consists of short stories on other characters in the series.

The winds are chilly, intertwining through the strands of her hair, nipping at her reddened nose. The tight toque on her head saves her scalp from drying up and causing her hairs that are increasingly becoming gray to fall out. It’s freezing and her hands dig into her coat pocket, cheeks seeking any inch of warmth as she pushes her face down into her jacket. The mist of the water that whips into the air as the waves crash against the shore doesn’t help the situation. The old lawyer has no idea why she’s spending a precious weekend on the pier. She works hard during the week and only dreams about staying in her cozy home, wrapped up in blankets with nothing to do. But here she is….fishing with her husband. “Do you want some hot chocolate?” “No,” she mutters, watching the pole that’s set in front of her, but it stays motionless as his does. It’s been an hour of sitting here. At first it was nice to watch the sun rise, but now the lovely tangerine shades of the sky have faded off and the sunlight hasn’t been beating down on the ground long enough to warm the air. It’s miserable. Gray. And no one was here. “It’ll make you feel better.” “It’s going to make my stomach upset.” “Hot chocolate?” The older man chuckles and pours out the dark liquid into the lid of the thermostat anyhow. His arm extends out and he pokes her arm. “Here, take it. Drink. It won’t make your stomach upset, trust me. It’ll make you warmer.” Naul accepts the lid reluctantly with a sigh. Her fingers curl around the metal, feeling the warmth and she takes a tentative sip. The heat pools down to stomach, indeed making her feel better. “Did you make this using the powder in the top cabinet above the stove?” “How’d you know?” Her husband glances at her with an impressed smile. Yet, she is not amused. “You know that’s expired, right?” “Ah, doesn’t matter.” He bats the air with his hand. “The expiration date is only the recommended date.” “It’s been expired for ten years.” “Still tastes good.” She puts the lid down, returning her hands to her pockets. “Did he call?” “Yeah, he called.” He sits back in the camping chair, enjoying the blue horizon. “He’s too busy to come over this weekend. Looks like it’ll just be us two.” “Did you scold him? He’s been skipping out on these family dinners for weeks now.” “Ah, let him be. He’s still settling down in his new apartment.” “He’s been irresponsible and he’s forgotten about his own parents.” “Oh, c’mon. The bird has to leave the nest eventually, and it’s not like we’ve been abandoned.” He turns to her fully with a bright smile. “You’re not lonely, are you? You’ve got me.” Naul deadpans, “Great.” “Psh. You love me.” “That’s what I remind myself.” The older man grins. He leans over, invading in her personal space. “If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t be here right now fishing with me.” “Yeah.” A wistful sigh leaves her as she daydreams of a better time. “I’d probably be bundled up in blankets sleeping and when I wake up, I’d go to the kitchen and eat a real meal.” “We’ll eat later.” His arm wraps around her, jackets rustling against each other. “You can hide it all you want, but I know you like fishing and spending time with me.” “You think I like sitting out here in the cold at seven in the morning?” “Yes…?” The female lawyer flashes him an indignant expression as a response, in disbelief that he can be so blindly hopeful. And he sulks, countering, “it’s a relaxing hobby and it’s beneficial to your health!” “I think it’s raising my high blood pressure.” Her husband laughs and a tiny smile lifts on her face. They both look off and her rod twitches. Immediately, Naul lifts her hand to silence him, signaling him to be quiet. “It’s moving…” She grabs the rod and the line tugs. “I got it!” “Reel it in, reel it in!” “I’m trying!” She’s reeling as fast as she can and the line curves, the top of the pole beginning to pull. It isn’t seaweed and the hook hasn’t gotten stuck at the bottom like it often does for him. There’s something on the end that’s fighting. “Oh my god, it’s going to be a big one!” His shrieking does nothing to help and Naul spares a quick glance at him. “Honey, help!” “O-oh!” His hands grasp the pole and they both pull together as she reels. Eventually, it comes up and there’s a huge fish at the end flopping around, some kind of trout she’s not sure of. The lawyer grins and he cheers, both hugging each other. They’re the noisiest on the pier, interrupting the peace and okay...Naul admits it...she kind of enjoys fishing. Only kind of.

The bell chimes as the door opens. It jingles, signaling new customers, but instead of the newcomers heading to the counter, they head straight for the booth tucked away in the corner. The woman fiddling with her phone lifts her head as figures approach her peripheral vision. And she gasps. “Oh my god!” The squeals pierce through the area, causing patronages to wince and turn to stare. Lisa can’t help herself, barely keeping her feet from thumping. “It’s been so long!” Sebin’s eyes are wide and she bolts up to stand, smiling wide and hugging her. She motions to Inyoung who lingers, a bit overwhelmed. “Get over here! Oh god, I missed you so much!” “How are you?” Inyoung barely catches her breath and they all sit down. “I’m good, I’m good. Never been better actually. You?” “We’re good,” Lisa replies, still grinning. Once settled down, they order their drinks from the barista and huddle together, tucked in the corner of the café to catch up. “I’ve been going to school in the evenings and I got a job as a teacher’s assistant during the day. Sometimes it’s really hard, but I love the kids and it’s a lot of fun. It feels really fulfilling.” The former paralegal continues to talk about the kids and the school she’s at, as well as a handsome grade four teacher that she’s been especially eyeing these days. Her discussion trails off into her activities and duties, the decent pay and her classes, as well as how she’s on the track to obtain a degree to teach. Once she’s ended her tangent, she leans back and takes a break, handing the baton off to the other two. “How’s the office?” “The usual,” Lisa answers. “Less messy,” Inyoung adds on, “and Hoseok’s a lot nicer. The atmosphere is friendlier than before.” Sebin nods her head, making a sound of acknowledgment at the back of her throat. “Because of Y/N?” “You guessed it,” Lisa laughs before taking a sip of her drink. “She’s doing well?” “Yeah, I think so.” “She was down in the dumps for a while, but she seems pretty happy lately.” Inyoung plays with her straw and as the gears in her brain turn, and she hums, “Same with Hoseok.” The former paralegal seems intrigued by this small detail and she quirks her head in curiosity. “Are they dating?” “God, no.” Lisa shakes her head. “That’s impossible.” “Is it?” The girl sitting across from her questions it while taking a sip, smacking her lips afterwards to savour the lingering taste of her coffee. “I always thought they were a good match. Balances each other out.” “Huh. I guess they’re close these days. I just never really thought about it before.” “Yeah, I can kind of see it.” Inyoung nods of her head, having never pictured you and Hoseok together until this very moment. “Anyways, tell her I send her my gratitude again. I don’t think I’ve shown her enough appreciation. If I hadn’t sat down with her months ago, god knows I’d still be working there.” Sebin sheepishly smiles, more happy than she’s ever been. “I should really visit some time soon.” Both Lisa and Inyoung insists that she should and eventually, the conversation deviates from work and from the subject of you and Hoseok. The girls catch up on all sorts of topics together until the sun has gone down, as if no time has passed whatsoever.

The law firm is bustling with the sound of work. But it stops momentarily as he brushes past. Employees turn their heads, greeting him and he nods in acknowledgment before heading straight towards his office. His personal receptionist opens both doors for him and he thanks her before she shuts it again. He drops down into his swivel chair with a slight sigh, staring out the large glass windows towards the buildings in the city. The phone interrupts his train of thought. “Mr. Wang, Jung Hoseok is on line five.” The corner of Jackson’s mouth tilts. “Put him through.” There’s a beep and then a firm voice. “Wang.” “Jung. To what do I owe the pleasure to?” “You still haven’t responded to my correspondence yet. Please reply forthwith.” Jackson’s smirk grows and he leans back in his chair, playing with the hem of his black blazer, speaking loudly towards his phone on speaker. “Further to your communications, I can advise you that we’re in no agreement to your position.” There’s a beat of silence before Hoseok counters, “Thank you for your earlier communications. Considering the tone of your voice, my office will be contacting the justice directly.” The senior lawyer scoffs. “Are you trying to bypass me?” “You’re obviously being uncooperative and unresponsive.” “And you want to go over my head?” “I have no other choice.” “You are absolutely insufferable.” “Say that to me when we’re in court and let’s see what happens.” Jackson sits straighter, all too entertained by this conversation. “Is this a threat?” “It’s a promise,” Hoseok clarifies with a venomous tone. “Fine.” The lawyer seated in his luxurious office waves the white flag. “I’ll get someone to respond to your damn email by the end of the day.” The sly grin is practically heard in his voice. “Thank you.” “Just don’t come to my office like last time,” Jackson chides. “I don’t want your presence here.” “Don’t worry, I don’t have that much time on my hands.” There’s another unusual pause, Hoseok hitching his breath and Jackson frowns before the other man continues, “But are you worried I’ll poach someone from BTS? Trust me, I wouldn’t want any of your sub-par lawyers working at Jung and Park.” “Sub-par lawyers that win every time?” “Sub-par lawyers that are sore losers and won’t admit when they’re wrong.” Jackson scoffs, leaning his head back and spinning slightly in his chair. As hostile as the bantering could get, it was a pleasant change and dearly missed. He even admits it to his long time rival, “I missed this, Jung. We should go out for a drink some time.” “So you can incapacitate me and frame me for a crime?” He laughs. “Aren’t you a ball of sunshine.” “I’ll take you on that offer when I win this case.” “Okay, deal. But looks like we won’t be going out then.” “Fine by me.” There’s yet one more pause from the other end of the line and as Jackson listens, he hears rustling, another voice followed by the sound of soft giggling. His face blanches immediately, blood running cold. “Jung, what are you doing? Are you with someone?” “Don’t you wish you knew,” Hoseok replies in a snarky tone, absolutely shameless. “I’m going now, Jackson. I have other...issues to tend to.” “You’re sick, Jung! Don’t call me to help with your foreplay! Where do you even get off?!” Unfortunately for the prestigious lawyer, Jung Hoseok hangs up without answering and he’s not even sure the other man heard. The phone goes into a dial tone until he pushes his own button and he sighs with a slight smile before returning to work. His large law firm doesn’t run by itself after all.

Shopping has never been his forte. He didn’t think he’d be here or that this is what hanging out meant. It made him uncomfortable, store clerks standing around in the empty space to stare, running to ask if he needs help whenever he might even glance in their direction a second too long. Another attendant is rolling over another rack of clothes and Jungkook curls in himself on the small couch, finding it all too intimidating. In the meanwhile, Taehyung is staring in the mirror, scanning himself up and down as if he’s about to makeout with himself. The yellow pajamas clinging onto his body is blinding in the store’s incandescent lights. “What do you think, Kook?” “Uh. It’s nice.” Taehyung hums and continues searching through the rack, fingers playing at the hangers like they’re a piano. After deliberately choosing through them, he takes out a pair. “You should try these blue pajamas. They’re silk.” “I’m good.” “C’mon, Kook.” Taehyung puts it back on the rack, signaling to the attendant who nods and wheels away the rack of clothes. Apparently he’s a regular here, coming frequently enough for his signals to be understood. Jungkook muses that Taehyung is acting less like a successful lawyer and more like a son of a rich mogul who has a trust fund. He approaches him before sitting on the couch. “I thought shopping would make you feel better.” “Shopping isn’t really my thing,” the younger admits. “You wanna play games then? I know an arcade around here.” “Uh, I’m okay.” Jungkook smiles at his mentor, not wanting to get in the way. “You don’t have to worry about me.” “Are you sure?” Taehyung tilts his head, searching Jungkook’s features carefully. “Why? Do I not seem okay?” “You seem fine, Kook.” He plays with his ear for a second before resting his arm on his shoulder. “I just don’t want you to be down.” “I’m not.” The younger male blinks in a bit of confusion. Yet, Taehyung continues to comfort him. “Well….it would be understandable if you are. You did have your heart broken.” “What?” The older man is careful when he speaks, treading like it’s a sensitive topic. “You liked Y/N, right?” “I...I don’t...didn’t…” His doe eyes are rounded. “What?” “You don’t have to lie. I noticed your cute crush on our little sweet HR manager.” Taehyung smiles, leaning on him. “It’s okay, Kook. No one really saw it coming — who knew Hoseok would snatch her up.” “What?!” Jungkook is more shocked about this than anything else. “You know?” Taehyung scoffs in offence. “Well, I’m not an idiot! It’s obvious they’re together, right?” “I...uhh…” “C’mon, let’s get up and go eat some ice-cream!” Taehyung pulls him to his feet, ready to march out the door, but then he stops himself. “But...give me a minute. I’m going to change and buy these pajamas first.” Jungkook with a sheepish smile watches his mentor march back into the change room. To be frank, he’s always admired you more than having a romantic interest in you and wanting to pursue that interest. Still, he’s glad that there are people around him who care and pay attention to know these small details in his life that he keeps hidden. But if Jungkook was being more honest, he was intrigued. How did Taehyung know and how has he not said a single thing. You don’t even know Taehyung knows. There’s no other plausible explanation — he must be a secret genius.

Around the table, each and every person is tired. Their eyes are stinging from staring at screens and tiny sentences forced together in large paragraphs. Their lower backs are beginning to ache from sitting all day and their fingers are cramping from incessant typing. Neither Hoseok nor Jimin are in the office, so they take the opportunity to pause from their work. Namjoon removes his glasses, placing them on the table to stretch his limbs. He makes noises as he does so, groans and bones cracking pleasantly. Seokjin pulls out his bottom drawer, exposing bags of snacks kept hidden from Jungkook, and he swipes up a bag of chips, opening the bag to chomp on them. Seulgi also takes her break, rolling her neck in circular motions, leaning back, yawning. “We’ve got two hours to go,” Namjoon mumbles. Seulgi wonders if she should just bang her head on the table and put herself out of her own misery. “Ughhh…” Seokjin hums, dusting off his fingertips and swallowing his mouthful. “What if we just snuck out.” For a moment, they all envision it. A cloud forms over their head and they share the daydream until it pops and reality comes back to smack them in the face. Seulgi narrows her eyes at him. “Do you want to get fired or your pay to be docked?” He shrugs. “Y/N would fight for us.” Namjoon contributes his own opinion, “Probably let us off with a warning.” The female legal assistant tilts her head to stare at the ceiling. She turns from side to side in her swivel chair, distracting Jungkook and Inyoung, who are seated at the other half of the office, before they realize nothing’s happening and they get back to work. “Actually…..when was the last time Hoseok yelled at us?” Seokjin scoffs. “Obviously like...five….months...wait….” “Yeah.” She nods, looking across to both males as realization dawns on her. “Now that I think about it, ever since Y/N came, Hoseok hasn’t been yelling at us or giving us extra work right at five.” “Huh.” “If anything, he’s been more lenient than ever.” Namjoon returns to his work, his fingers moving along the computer keyboard, but he’s still distracted talking. “We went out for lunch two weeks ago and he praised my performance.” “Woah, since when did you get chummy with our crazy boss?” Seulgi is genuinely surprised, feeling a bit betrayed if anything. Usually the complaints for Hoseok were endless. She gets it if you were the one to defend him since you’re in HR and responsible for making a better work environment. But she never expected to hear it from Namjoon. Much to the female’s revelation, Jin also has a good word for his boss. “Now that we’re talking about it, the other week I stayed back and finished some stuff and my damn car wouldn’t start so Hoseok drove me home.” “What?” Namjoon looks away from his monitor. “Has he not done anything for you recently?” “Well….I guess he’s been smiling and talking to me a lot more. He also remembered when I told him my younger brother got into the college of his choice and he asked me what major he was going into.” “I didn’t think he’s raised his once to me in these past few months or even reprimanded me for anything, even when I forgot to do those photocopies for him.” Jin puts his snacks back into his lower drawer again. “He’s been actually pretty nice these days.” “Wow, never thought I’d see the day when someone would say that,” Seulgi muses, thinking about it for a long second. It’s not long before the trio of them get back to their work, but in the back of their minds they dwell on the thought that their boss isn’t so bad. He’s reliable, encouraging, and maybe they didn’t know him so well in the beginning as they thought.

The sheet of the mattress pulls. The sunshine pulls through the curtain. As much as he would like to sleep and hope that after death there’s more and more sleep available for him, because that would certainly be paradise in itself, the sheer brightness of the sunlight forces him awake. Yoongi’s eyes slowly open. His lashes bat a few times until he recognizes the familiar figure beside him. Instantly, a smile tugs on his lips, despite having always been known as the morning grump. He reaches out, brushing hair away from her face before lightly shaking her awake. “Lee…” “Hmm?” “It’s mid-afternoon. We should get up.” The girl grunts, rolling everywhere, building the momentum until she flops over to face him. She pouts with one eye open. “Don’t wanna.” Instead of sounding cute, she sounds angry. But Yoongi ignores her anyway, picking up his phone to check the time. He goes through his messages, skimming them before setting it down and shaking her again. “C’mon, babe. We should eat or actually do something before the sun sets again.” Sunyi sighs, lashes batting as she slowly gains the strength to open her eyes again. Then a sheepish smile spreads through her face at the thought of food. “What do you want to eat?” “I’m fine with anything.” “How about noodles?” “I’ll order that right now.” He opens up an app on his phone and within three minutes, it alerts him the delivery guy is on his way. Yoongi peeks at her. “It’s a date, right?” “All our outings are dates,” Sunyi mumbles, trying to rub the sleepiness out of her eyes. “Really?” There’s a stupid, gummy grin plastered on his face. “I’ve given up,” she sighs, pulling up the blankets and cuddling them, covering her exposed skin from the cool air. “You’d better treat me right before I dump your ass, Min.” Yoongi drops his phone, letting it get lost in the abyss of fluffed covers and he hugs her body, smile infectious on his face and unable to be repressed. “We’ve been together for two years. I don’t think you’d dump my ass any time.” “Don’t get too cocky.” He presses a soft kiss to her forehead before muttering, “Sunny…” “What?” Her tone is harsh, annoyed with how he keeps interrupting her when she’s trying to go back to sleep. “You should shower. Your hair’s starting to smell.” All at once, he’s being smacked and assaulted by a pillow. Yoongi laughs, arms shielding away his face. Suddenly, she has all the energy in the world, no longer tired or sleepy, too passionate about smothering him to death as he’s giggling away. “I’m joking!” “Are you?!” She pulls the pillow away for a second, sparing him from the onslaught. “We’ll shower together.” “Ugh!” Sunyi chucks the pillow and it lands on the ground. Yoongi laughs, getting up and tugging her arm until she’s forced into a seated position on the bed. He walks off to the washroom, flickering the lights on and running the water in the shower. “Come on. Before the takeout gets here.” “Load up my toothbrush!” “Don’t worry, I already have it ready — you need to brush your teeth too!” Sunyi sighs for the second time, bracing herself before throwing off the covers. She grins and runs off towards the hot shower. As unbearable as Min Yoongi can be, she wouldn’t have this any other way.

It’s quiet in the elevator. Maybe it’s a part of the Monday blues. Your mind is slow to operate, brain empty as you watch the numbers go up, increasing at a snail’s pace. Jimin is holding his coffee cup, tired from the early morning as well, but he takes a glance at you and softly smiles. “So…” He takes a sip of his drink. “Hoseok, huh.” “What?” You turn to Jimin, shocked. “He told you?” He has no idea what you mean, but Jimin gives a muted nod anyhow. “Course he did. I’m his partner.” You’re wholly confused. You thought Hoseok agreed to not tell anyone. But now’s not the time to question his decision. “Don’t worry. I made sure the first thing we did was sign the contract and paperwork.” “Oh, I’m not worried about that.” Jimin is talking out of his ass, not knowing where this was going, but he’s a master of winging it. “Alright….okay…” It’s uncomfortable, air suffocating and you clear your throat before glancing at him, not quite sure how to address this. “Hoseok and I, we already had a talk and we want to stay professional in the office. We love our jobs and we don’t want our private matters to affect our work performance.” “Wait.” He puts two and two together, quick-witted to a fault. “You’re with Hoseok?!” “What?” “You’re with him?! Dating him?!” “Hoseok didn’t tell you?!” “No!” Finally, everyone is on the same page and you’re mortified. You can’t believe you were duped to blow your own cover. But Jimin doesn’t mind at all — his grin is spreading into his cheeks and he’s jumping up and down, all around, hyperactive and freaking out. It’s as if he won the lottery or the team he’s been rooting for all season has won the Super Bowl. “Oh my god! Oh my god! That's so amazing!” Jimin grabs your arms, making you hop with him and his giddy laughter is contagious. “I knew it! I so knew it!” The elevator doors open on a different floor. Three people appear, surprised and caught off guard. They step back, deciding to take the next one and you apologize, watching the doors close again. “This is so great! I always knew you and Hoseok were perfect for each other!” You giggle with him. “Well don’t go telling everyone!” “How long have you guys been together?” “Like two months?” “Two entire months?! You didn’t think of telling me?” “We-….I didn’t think you’d be this excited.” Even Hoseok’s parents weren’t this enthusiastic about you and Hoseok. Maybe Jimin was living vicariously through you or he was genuinely just happy. Either way, you’re becoming giddy from just watching him. “I’m ecstatic!�� You end up being summoned to Jimin’s office with Hoseok in tow. The two of you gather like suspects on trial and Jimin is on the other side of the desk, stern with his hands clasped together. The pair of you ask him to keep it private, not wanting to expose your relationship when it was still relatively new and not wanting employees to look at you differently. He agrees, but questions why he wasn’t told. Then you’re bombarded with how it happened, when it happened, where it happened. You’re only freed when Hoseok picks you up from your seat and you both walk out the door, away from Jimin’s nosy self. But really, if you had to retell the story of you and Hoseok, you wouldn’t even know where to begin.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fanfiction #hoseok scenarios #EVERYTHING'S GETTING WRAPPED UP Y'ALL #LAST CHAPTER COMING UP AFTER THIS ONE!!! WOOHOOOOO

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lunasaturnine · 4 years

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Vienna and cultural trauma

WOW so cool to sign into tumblr and see 99+ notifications, and think “oh a post got some attention,” but it’s actually just general attention!

My astro blog is ready for some action! Or maybe ppl are just bored bc of the quarantine. Either way, it would be cool to write.

I want to write about VIENNA.

I just took a course about somatic healing of trauma and it gave me a good overview of how trauma recovery works. Chapter 1 of trauma recovery is gathering resources. Chapter 2 is dipping or oscillating back into the memory, whether it’s a clear memory or just something held hidden in your body, with your new resources, and allowing circles to complete. Chapter 3 is being bigger bigger brighter in the world !!! (It’s a nice course, it’s on somatopia.com, it costs $40 if you have that to throw around, it’s like 2 hours of videos of a nice man talking in a soothing voice in intelligent language about healing from trauma)

Now I’m thinking about cultural trauma and Vienna. I have long felt that helping to heal the Hitler wound of Vienna is one of my soul’s major dharmic thrusts. So I googled “healing cultural trauma” and most resources out there talk about the trauma of the victim culture. That kind of trauma is totally different, because it recommends amplifying the traditions and greatnesses of the culture, and when you’re a cultural perpetrator of violence, amplifying the greatness of your culture is a trigger because cultural superiority is what lead your culture to be violent. But there are still a lot of resources with a lot of valuable information. I’ve only skimmed a couple things so far and it seems like one thing people emphasize in cultural healing is human connectedness.

The internet is a little hard to navigate on this topic, but I found an NYT editorial called “I loved my grandmother but she was a Nazi.” The author’s sweet grandma was literally a Nazi but she was a nice person who didn’t hate Jews. When the author talked to her about it, she would deflect. “He said a lot of things, I didn’t listen to them all” and “I was caught up in my own life” etc. The author says, that’s bullshit, there’s something she’s avoiding, and I can’t understand what it is or why she’s doing it, and I’m hesitant to say this because it might seem like I’m trying to forgive Naziism but I’m really just trying to understand who I look at when I look at my grandmother. It’s the most direct address of the West’s Nazi wound that I’ve found in my two and a half minutes of searching on google and I think it’s on the nose.

In the readmore are my more concrete thoughts on potential resources for Western/German/Viennese healing, and thoughts about what working through phase 2 would look like for a perpetrator culture.

Resources

On this reddit post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/history/comments/5nfqwp/my_grandmother_grew_up_in_nazi_germany/

there are some resources. First of all, 1. there are people from diverse backgrounds respective to WWII, coming together and talking as equals in the same kind of “room.” The descendants of the persecuted and the persecutors are together and they are not enemies. The knowledge, and SOMATIC FEELING EXPERIENCE, of that, can be a resource. I am typing over this brusquely and that’s Mercury magic for you and you should know that I just burst into sobs. That in just a couple of generations, the grandsons and daughters of enemies can be together and not hate each other and even love each other is an immense resource and can be leaned into at any point. There is a vast well of cultural relief available here. My tears are thankful, grateful tears, tears of relief. I am thinking of the parks in vienna that are holocaust memorial parks. I am thinking of that horrible statue out in front of the Albertina that is a memorial to cultural violence but at the same time, also represents the trapped soul of the Perpetrator culture, since we are all One. In the same way that a piece of music which opens with a terrifying chord represents both the terror experienced by the terrorized, and the menace of the terrorizer, AND THE FEELINGS IN THE terrorizer that caused them to generate this chord... off on a tangent, and I’m not sobbing anymore! That was crazy. I have a tendency to lock my feelings up, but being alone in this house and in this quarantine, I can open up locked wells of feeling like that.

That resource is IMMENSE, and it’s RIGHT in front of our faces all the time. I took a class on 20th century germany in undergrad, and the professor was a young guy with a Nazi grandfather, well I’m not sure if he was a Nazi but he was a German soldier, and he remarked on it. And I think at the time I thought “how lovely” but if you sit with that feeling, it’s deep as hell. And if you sit with it from the perspective of a penitent perpetrator, it’s REALLY FUCKING DEEP.

So that’s available. Im gonna post this real quick as a way of saving the draft but I have more ideas.

Okay. Continuing,

Resource 2 also from reddit post

The top respondent says his German POW uncle had a British GF. That’s similar to the first resource, but more immediate. I’m sure there are lots of stories like that. Intercultural experience that nullifies certain tensions

Resource 3 also from reddit post

The stories of people who did do the right thing... maybe. I dont know. I’ll get off this post soon but it’s interesting. Idk if this counts as a resource, it’s kind of a tangent, but the more I learn about karma and trans-life inheritance of it, the more it seems true that it really is better to die living in line with your beliefs than to live safely. Like the person in Pweuy’s post. That father died but his karma was pristine as far as this was concerned and perpetrator trauma did not cling to him.

ok jesus this is an interesting post... the girl skipping over the river of blood as it trickled out of the asylum... the hitler youth boy befriending a lamb and the nazis slaughtering it in front of him... the russian soldier who guarded the german girl because she reminded him of her daughter...

Okay. Before I go on, I want to clarify that I am not specifically talking about people who held Nazi beliefs in their core. There is a special type of perpetrator injury that is specific to that kind of thing, true villains and terrorists. I’m talking more about “ordinary Germans” who didn’t think very hard and got swept along, moderate supporters to moderate resisters. As a culture, they were moved by the tides into Naziism. They have culpability, but not the exact same kind of culpability as perpetrator people. The culture moved to perpetrate these crimes, and they were a part of that culture. That’s the specific kind of wound I’m interested in healing. There is a poster on that page whose grandma really loved Hitler...

Ok! I spent a lot of my energy in that page, now its 10PM and I still have veggies to prepare. I need energy for this next thing I was going to talk about.

Resource 4 - this one specific coffee shop

I’m putting *s in its name because I like this blog anonymous. P*****n is a coffee shop in Vienna that is the only happy place I went. There were places that were ok... and fine... maybe pleasant... but this place was American levels of happy. Waiters danced around and were actually relaxed and happy. P*****n’s theme is intergenerational communication. It hires grandmothers to work behind the counter, and make pies, and you’re supposed to buy a slice of their pie and talk to them a bit. And then the waiters are young, and they communicate with the Omas. And the Omas are maybe not old enough to have been Nazis but their parents were.

They also include a bit in all their menus about intergenerational dialogue and wondering what more they can do and how they can be more of a space for it.

I had MANY genuinely pleasant little experiences there... and I think that little space that some person with a vision made, is a blossoming flowerpot with lots of healing energy where true dialogue could happen. So that could be a resource too. The happiness of that place. In fact, these conversations could happen there.

But I wouldn’t want to break the space. The course I just took talked about titration, which is just accessing a TINY part of the traumatic memory, so you don’t get overwhelmed. This is a very icy fucked up conversation for a lot of people. My Viennese friend told me to talk more quietly about it than I was. Actually I did talk about it there with some people! The German girl was surprised that I thought Vienna had a wound. So was the Irish girl actually. For other people it’s really evident. My Viennese friend. D**n. Rf: “it’s ALL I feel when I am there.” ME. God that conversation was sooo gentle and sweet and light. The Irish girl was wondering if she should move to Vienna or stay in Barcelona, and the three of us talked about Vienna nd it was SOOOOO LOVELY, holy BALLS.

But even if we don’t hold conversations there exactly, that could be a really good place for conversation to start. I could reach out to the people who run the shop to ask them about it. And then maybe conversations could happen in other places (don’t want to spoil the sweetness of the shop).

Resource 5 - personal as I investigate maybe not really a resource - but yes maybe it is a resource: Grounded, comfortable people who are Viennese, and who understand the goals and also understand the sensitivities of Viennese people more than I do;

Resource 6 - people who are experts at cultural healing in victim cultures

Resource 7 - fostering dialogue between those two parties, also me.

Again I’m really playing fast and loose with the idea of resources. Maybe. We’re starting to move into phase 2, also, because with this dialogue, I want to open up some scripts for how to TITRATE sensitively.

phase 2

For instance, notice that I didn’t say something like “Remembering Vienna’s amazing heritage of incredible music that has the power to redeem and heal equal to and more accessibly than religions.” I think it’s true that Viennese music is a major healing resource (BEETHOVENSCHUBERTMOZARSKLTBSLJRTHBLEWSKJNS:OFDFD), but since it is bound up in Viennese identity, that notion is complex. Also, it’s not only that Viennese identity is nasty because it’s nazi and therefore that gives Schubert etc a dark tint, but also, the grand things that Vienna has contributed to western culture are now a part of Vienna’s current wound of degradation, cheapification, and humiliation by TOURISM. although I will say that I think Resource 8 should be MY OWN deep internalization of the healing power of Viennese music. Posting again to save...

...not only does that music help me be healed, but it also helps me understand healing process in the specific language of the culture i’m interested in

okay. Phase 2.

A picture of what I think sorta needs to happen

I think Omas that say “It was just a lot of talk, we ignored it” and “I was busy in my life”... I think what needs to happen for a perp culture is for them to actually own their part in the villainy, to claim it and stand in it and feel the pain, and say “I’m SORRY, this was HORRIBLE, I AM SORRY.” THIS WILL ALLOW THEM TO BECOME NEW!!!!!!!

That’s a v different healing process from like native american healing etc.

I really think somatic approach is a better road in than cognitive because, god, imagine cognizing all of this HORRIBLE SIN bit by bit knowing your culture perpetrated it and not having anyone to blame it on. Jesus.

How might the process of getting there look?

This is vague especially now that I don’t have that burst of energy. Conversations...

Here’s a question. After resource gathering.

“Knowing that bells rang for Hitler in Vienna, how does it feel to be Viennese?” IN YOUR BODY?

Damn THAT’S GOOD! THAT’S THE FUNDAMENTAL QUESTION. How does it feel to be Viennese? The goal is for it to feel OK.

Um, speaking specifically about Wiener trauma and their welcoming of Hitler, a few years ago, I read this in some guidebook, Vienna’s government acknowledged that they welcomed Hitler and that they were wrong, and investigating that is important for my mission. It’s cool because 1. it’s a Big Ol Step and 2. it lays groundwork for all of this.

Step 3 is really beautiful to think about. In the course I took, it’s where the instructor got out of his soothing calm neutral demeanor and started speaking passionately and bursting with smiles.

In addition to being able to be more firmly grounded in their own individual and cultural identities...

Okay, so, I’m drawn to this because I’m drawn to it, punkt. That’s all. But also, and I think I’m really late on the uptake here, I think I was due in Vienna many years ago, I think that whatever work I do in Vienna is helpful for the echoes of Naziism in today’s world, such as Trumpism (which does not...exactly... have the same kinds of premises but uses a lot of the same kinds of mecahnisms) and actual brazen nationalism, white supremicism, and far right movements. Hitler is a LOUD and REVERBERANT figure in our history for this kind of energy, and if we can do healing surrounding him, re-discovering resilience in the moderates, helping them go through the emotional journey they need to go through, they will be a beautiful resonant horn call from the past, a solid core of NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that will strengthen the culture of the entire FUCKING world.

Music will be a part of it.

I have always loved Vienna, and I can’t really analyze it. I love it like a girlfriend. I know she’s problematic. And she can be really really horrible.

The wound is deep. The horribleness, the life negating quality not only of the FUCKING WRETCHED SHOP CLERKS, but also of the WAY -- THINGS -- HAPPEN, of the overall weird ass SPIRIT in Vienna, is... God DAMN WHY do I like that city so much? It’s bizarre. It’s very pervasive. I don’t enjoy experiencing it, I don’t think it’s attractive, I don’t like it. I love Vienna THROUGH that wound. I REALLY LOVE Vienna. That’s one of the clearest things that I know in my heart. I love Vienna... and that’s the whole story. It’s one of the easiest things for me to say.

Lots of people love a city. We do it for reasons. I think our hearts are drawn where they are drawn because we are attracted to healing the specific karmas of places. The karma of my hometown is mainly racial, with native american underneath. The coffee shop that is equivalent to P*****n serves often as a place of racial conversation and healing. It is actually pretty amazing. And once there was a white supremacist with a gun there and he stood up on a table and let people see his gun. He didn’t yell or anything. But that vital thing happened there in that coffee shop.

Excuse me I also love coffee shops and Vienna is the land of coffee shops.

Okay. I love Vienna! I literally love Vienna, with my heart. I love Vienna.

One last thing. I’m saving then editing...

The postscript: A major resource, and it kinda sidesteps some things, is language. It will be much better if German is spoken in these conversations. When I went to Vienna last, I didn’t prepare my German because when I went to Vienna first, everyone spoke English and it was simply easier to speak English all the time, so I figured I wouldn’t try to give the illusion and disappoint. But lo... the native people really, really resent it if you don’t even try to speak German. They actually seem to experience it as an injury. It is wild, if you’re not expecting it.

ALL OVER VIENNA I saw the Graffiti stamp/brand, “Tourism is terrorism.”

When I was in the airport and the cute customs dudes asked me the purpose of my visit, I said “TOURISM” and they laughed. That was fun. But it was a lie. I was a pilgrim. I... know I was a tourist, technically. But I felt such hatred for the tourists standing like apes in front of the Schubert statue in the Stadtpark. Their wretched selfie smiles plastered on top of the emptiness of their experience. My purpose in Vienna had nothing in common with theirs. And I claim that I didn’t do a lot of the tourist things - not many museums or concerts or whatever.

One of my more pleasant memories was going into a used book shop and asking about a book in the window, a German-language edition of the tao te ching from 1923 (a very strange time). I asked in English. The clerk was confused and asked if I spoke German, and I answered in German that I spoke some German, but was learning, and knew the TTC very well, and that it’s simply usually easier to speak in English. I might have used imperfect German, but I felt dignified and natural doing it.

Ok, not only the German language, but the quiet Viennese demeanor of Scorpiness. Scorpscorpscorpscorp. Quiet, observant, emotional, and responsive to gentle tenderness and consideration, and traumatized by brashness.

Both the spoken language, and the language of the demeanor, I think are somatic approaches that sidestep cognitive...things and make the culture feel unconsciously accepted and open.

On my first trip I learned howwwwww AMERICAN I was, and then on my second trip I opened myself up to my inner Wiener and was quiet and scorpy, and I felt warmth emerge from the people and city in response. It felt really right, and it felt like i was honoring...her, and it felt um sort of romantic. ha

#Vienna #Wien

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i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships · 5 years

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A Slice Of My Love. Chapter 8. The One Where I Get Sent Downstairs And Em Gives You One Of The Stupidest Things She's Come Up With.

Hello, my children! If you saw the teaser then you know where this is going. I think writing about Virgil losing his sanity is making me lose mine. Anywho, it’s serious talk time.

Parings: Vilonso/Deathbread. (Oh god that felt weird to write. I’m normally the person who looks at people’s ocs, not the person who makes ocs.)

Tw: Heathers and Be More Chill references, cursing, a slight NSFW mention (if you’ve listened to the song More Than Survive you know what I’m getting at), bomb mention, the death/murder of the fourth wall, and Virgil being insane. (The norm for this book)

Ok here’s a new thing: I’m going to link the four songs that are mentioned/sang/used:

I Am Damaged (from Heathers tw: explosions, suicide, and suicide mention): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlVxhg-HVCk

Candy Store (from Heathers):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQOoTX1Nxx8

More Than Survive (from Be More Chill): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TuOrwWdJFEs

Voices In My Head (from Be More Chill): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvpaivDBwQs

(Both Be More Chill songs the original cast recording because I listened to like 6 lines of More Than Survive from the Broadway one and hated it. (Will Connolly is SOOO much better for Jeremy) Look at this!! I’ve only been into this show for two days (on the day of publishing this chapter) and I have incredibly strong opinions already!!! And Heathers is the world premiere cast recording because you can hate me later, I hate the West End version of Heathers. They used the HIGH SCHOOL replacement for Blue!! I can tangent more about how much I hate the West End version of Heathers and the Broadway version of BMC later if you so wish.)

Virgil’s POV

----

“Virgil, could you please go downstairs?” Patton asked me.

Well, good luck to princey. I think we just got Ramen murdered. Oops, I did it again. I played with your- Why are you like this? Why are either of you like this?

I let go of Roman’s hand and begrudgingly went downstairs. I want to know what they were saying. Actually, I think I can find out.

Em, what are they talking about?

(Now is not the time for you to find out.)

You’re writing this chapter before you write what they’re saying, aren’t you?

(Umm… Maybe!! But I have notes!!!)

Ahh yes, the very “scientific notes” you have that are written in cursive, with the all caps too because you're just extra like that.

“FaLsEhOoD!!!!!!!!!”

I jumped at Logan’s screech. Jesus!! What was that for?

(Dunno, it was funny.)

You know what will be funny? Seeing how you work that into the next chapter.

(Virgil, Virgil, Virgil, I already know how I’m gonna add that to the story. I’m decently smart when I feel like it.)

I can just hear the angry readers. Like I said in chapter 2, there is no fourth wall for this cautionary tale. For my chapters at least. OH!! That’s a funny idea.

(To the tune of I am Damaged)

It is damaged.

Far to damaged.

The readers think it’s not beyond repair.

I’ll stick around here.

I won’t make things better.

Cause Em’s beat us fair and square.

Step away from the wall now.

Little further.

I know what this thing will do.

Hope you miss it.

Please don’t kiss it.

I don’t need to know that you worship it.

It won’t trade its life for yours.

(Virgil what are you doing?)

And once it disappears,

(I’m in love with the reference but I’m confused.)

There’ll be a mess down here.

(Why do you have a bomb?)

Say bye to the wall.

(*Snaps fingers* There’s no more wall.)

What the? Why did you take my bomb?

(This is why Roman is JD.)

It would’ve been fine.

(You were planning to throw a bomb at the fourth wall. How would that have ended well?)

Magic!

(Ok. Yeah. We’re done. I’m gonna go now. I’ll still be the present force giving you existence. But I’m done with you. Too much lack of basic intelligence here.)

Well, at least I can have a bomb again.

(Oh yeah! And no more bombs.)

Whatever.

I was too busy talking with Em to notice Alonso on the counter again. It startled me. But now I had the perfect opportunity to talk to him without getting interrupted.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

He’d been staring at me since I came downstairs I think. He got off the counter and walked over to me. “Ehh. Not too long.”

You know what? He’s like really sketchy. We’re gonna question him to the ends of this Earth.

“How did you get here?”

“I just appeared.”

That’s a constructive answer. “No like the first time. I could’ve sworn that it was only me and Pat in the kitchen.”

“Yeah I kinda just appeared then too. Also, sweety stop slouching and your bangs!! Who the hell gave you permission to walk around with your hair like that?”

That’s who he reminded me of. The critic character from Thomas’ last video. I told Roman that the character was too similar to Remy, as the fans have dubbed the sleep character from Thomas’ shorts. Did he listen? No.

The fans didn’t care though. The love the critic. If I’m not mistaken this one discord server has dubbed him “Critic Anton Dice”. (Shout out to all my wonderful friends in the The Kinds Of Minds You’d Only Find In Hell discord server! Y’all are amazing!!!)

Still something else though. I can’t quite place my finger on it and it’s pissing me off.

That something else is why you think he’s hot. Not true. It is true. Remy pisses us off, the critic guy is an ass. It’s that something else. Both of you need to shut up or I’m yeeting myself out a goddamn window!!

That shut them both up.

“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck about my hair or posture. And not gonna lie, your ‘appearing’ is kinda creepy.”

He rolled his eyes at me and fixed my bangs. “Ugh! Fine if you won’t fix them yourself I’ll do it.”

He fussed over my hair for quite some time. Once he finished, he finally brought up the ‘just appearing thing’.

“Don’t you just appear?”

I took mild offense to that. See? We don’t think he’s hot. He’s just an ass. The something else is hot. Can you both just stop? The option to yeet me out a window is still on the table. Just saying.

Anyways. I took mild offense to that. “See that’s the thing.” You have no clue how badly I wanted to say ‘with you plastics’. Not the time tho. “I appear in a not creepy way. You just pop up on the counter and don’t make a sound. It’s kinda terrifying.”

He scoffed at me. “Does it look like I care?” I rolled my eyes. “Anyways, do you guys have any coffee?” He asked.

There we go there is the Remy. You’re not wrong. Ya know, it’s kinda nice to have the voices in your head get along for once. SHUT UP!! BESIDES, HE’S STARING!!! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GET HIM COFFEE!!! GODDAMN!!! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!

I played of the incredibly pissed voices in my head like they were nothing and answered Alonso’s question. “Uhh, yeah we have coffee, but it’s like noon now.”

“Do I look like I care? This bitch needs his Starbucks.”

“We have coffee, not Starbucks.”

“Whatever, I just need caffeine.”

Huh. This guy really is Remy, isn’t he? Yeah, he is. I need coffee too so it’s a win-win.

I walked to the kitchen and started making coffee. While the coffee machine was doing coffee machine things, I was sitting on the counter. Alonso had started looking through the cabinets.

I cocked my head to the side messing up my recently “fixed” bangs.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for sugar. You got any?”

“Yeah. It’s in that cabinet.” I pointed out the one that should have the sugar. I have no clue if it does. He went to the cabinet that I had told him that the sugar should be in and started combing through it.

I stared at the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish. I had subconsciously started to drum my hands on the counter-top. “C-c-c-come on!! C-c-c-come on!! Go! Go! C-c-c-come on!! C-c-c-come on!! Go! Go!”

Ok. You have no right to judge me. I fricken love Be More Chill. I continued with the song. Slowly getting louder. “I’m waiting for my porno to load. My brain is gonna fricken explode.”

The coffee finished. I grabbed two mugs, still singing. Like I said, I fricken love Be More Chill. I’m not gonna sit there and only sing 4 lines of More Than Survive. Also, the next part of the song fits.

“And now, of course, it’s time to hit the road.” I poured some coffee into the mugs “Which means I’ll be uncomfortable all day, but that really isn’t such a change. If I'm not feeling weird or super strange, my life would be in utter disarray. 'Cause freaking out is my okay.”

If Jeremy Heere isn’t me than I have no clue what is. “Good morning time to start the day.”

“But it’s noon.”

I jumped at the voice. I may or may not have forgotten that Alsonso was still there. I attempted to recover from the very obvious fact that I’d forgotten about his existence.

“It’s called Be More Chill. Have you ever heard of it?”

He had found the sugar and it was sitting on the table. I brought over the two coffee mugs.

He scoffed. “Of course I’ve heard of Be More Chill!! What rock do you assume I’m living under??”

Extra bitch. You’re not wrong though.

Me, being the idiot I am, actually, I’m not an idiot. This rather creepy man is. You don’t just interrupt someone jamming out to a Be More Chill song like that.

“So why did you interrupt me?”

He gave me this look of judgment. But judgment and something I couldn’t read.

What is it with you and not being able to read things today? First the something else and now this?

Yet another way I relate to Jeremy Heere. I could feel myself zoning out again.

“And there are voices in my head. So many voices in my head. And they can yell and hurt like hell, but I know that I'll be fine. I still have voices in my head. Yeah, there are voices in my head. Of the voices in my head, the loudest one is mine!” I had started singing again. “Loudest one is mine! Loudest one is mine!”

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Roman walking downstairs and screaming “C-C-C-COME ON!! C-C-C-COME ON!! LET’S GO!!!”

One thing that y’all need to know about being best fucken friends with Roman: He will randomly start screeching lyrics from random musical theater/Disney songs at random times.

In that moment, I was singing Voices In My Head. This added the idea/impulse (you never know with Roman) to his brain to either join in at some random part or jump in once I had stopped, even if that meant restarting the song. We don’t care.

Yes, we.

Roman doesn’t give a fuck.

I don’t have any fucks to give.

Anywho, I joined him. “C-C-C-COME ON!! C-C-C-COME ON!! LET’S GO!!!”

I heard Logan groan behind him. “OH MY GOD!! BOTH OF YOU NEED TO SHUT UP!!!!”

I locked eyes with Roman to make sure that we were in sync for the plan that was forming in our heads.

I stood up. Roman steamed “SHUT UP HEATHER!!!!” I very over dramatically fell on the floor. Roman then began to sing the Candy Store riff. I quickly stood up and sang “TIME FOR YOU TO PROVE YOU’RE NOT A LAME ASS ANYMORE!!!”

We both came in for the end. “AND STEP INTO MY CANDY STORE!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY!!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY!!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY SOOOORE!!!!!!”

We looked at Patton and Lo-, well, he had gone upstairs again. So we looked at Pat. He looked like he was about to flip his lid.

I mean, Pat had never been one for Heathers, or BMC, because of the death, murder, sex, cursing, drinking, and drugs/smoking in the shows. It’s sad though!!! All of the good shows are the ones that aren’t 100% kid-friendly!!

I looked back at Roman. We began to laugh hysterically.

I realized that Alonso wasn’t there anymore. Like anywhere.

But I didn’t care.

Right now wasn’t about Alonso.

Right now was about me being a theater geek with my best friend.

----

Y’all can judge me later for all of the BMC and Heathers references!!! Heathers is Virgil’s favorite and then BMC. Fight me.

I would say that this chapter is the longest, but it’s only because of my theater tangent (which is a half a page long on google docs) in the first A/N. (The chapter is 5 pages on Google Docs)

Oof. Umm. I don’t like this chapter very much. Well, not as much as the others. I like it more than other chapters, but I still don’t like it. But not enough dislike to rewrite it.

Also, I failed my own goal. I WANTED to make this chapter post 666 on @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships, but it’s post 695. *Sad author/theater geek/prinxietea trash goblin noises*

But I guess that this is my birthday present to myself? I’m posting this on chapter on September 22. My birthday is September 23. Ehh. Good enough.

----

Ok, so before this gets really confusing:

This is the main voice inside Virgil’s head.

This is the other voice in Virgil’s head.

This is the two voices together.

(This is me, the author, Em, talking to Virgil, adding a random A/N in the middle of the chapter, or just establishing something like a stage direction almost. Ex. (To the tune of I Am Damaged) in this chapter. The difference between this one and the one above it is the parentheses.)

----

The now almost 13-year-old “author” (that isn't really an author),

(P.s with the sign-off and this part, the chapter is now just barely over 5 pages long on google docs. I need to cool it with the A/Ns. No one cares/reads the A/N. Why do I tell you guys this random crap?)

----

Taglist (I need to be informed if you’d like to get added, preferably through DMs or the inbox so I can make sure you get added): @winterswishing-reblogs @just-some-gt-trash @thetomorrowshow @iixclementine @an-existing-leah @elatedgiff

#Look at that rather healthy taglist.#If there's any chapter I'd like feed back on it would be this one #Please.#You feed back is greatly appreciated.#A Slice Of My Love #Em's crappy attempts at writing #Vilonso #Yes it gets a tag.#Uhh oof.#What am I doing?#Also #I have no damn clue as to when chapter 9 will come into existence.#I wrote Alonso's character in a way that I'm making myself suffer.#And I made it 10x harder for Vee to fall for the prick.#oof

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danyka-fendyr · 5 years

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As the Raven Flies: Part 5

Here it is. Chapter 5, as promised. It’s not super long, but it’s a little longer than normal at least. I’m working on longer chapters but also I’m lazy so what I’m saying here is that I’m the worst. Anway, I hope you guys like this one!

Taglist:@dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli @disengagefrmreality @superwolfchild-fan

Wordcount: 3210

“Moving in with Karen was quite possibly a terrible mistake.”

“You know something?” Vivien asked.

“Hmm?” Karen turned slightly, strawberry blonde hair cascading down her shoulder.

“I think you’re trying to kill me,” Vivien said seriously.

“Vivien! It’s just a smoothie!”

Vivien sat back in her chair at the kitchen counter. “This? This is not a smoothie. This is all vegetables, K!”

“You know, most people might look on the bright side on their late start day. Nothing can bring you down! You know, that sort of thing.”

“That’s what I think on the weekends when I go to bed. Nothing can go wrong when you’re asleep.”

Karen sighed, leaning her hip up against the counter. “Okay. So we can work on it.”

“Honestly, you’re better than my actual therapist.”

“Whom you need to go see. Today,” Karen reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have a story to write?”

“I do. It’s about bad little girls who get suspended from school because they missed the bus.”

“Well, good luck finding one of those,” Vivien said, standing up and slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

“Thanks.” The sarcasm was tangible.

“Thank you for breakfast Karen. It wasn’t as gross as the green juice I tried to drink last week when I thought I should eat something healthy. Bye!” Vivien ran out the door since Karen was indeed right about her being late, again.

“You can’t eat juice!” Karen called after her.

Know it all.

Vivien just barely caught the bus, breathlessly slumping down in the nearest seat. Fortunately, it was empty, just the way she liked it. Unfortunately, by the next stop, it was not so empty.

“Hello, Hunter.”

“Oh good, You’re in a good mood. I was afraid you might be dull or cranky this morning.”

“It’s been three days since this friendship started. I wouldn’t test me just yet. Sarcasm is my thing.”

“Apologies, my lady.” He mockingly bowed.

“You’re on thin ice, Hunter. Thin fricking ice.”

“I love it when you talk memes to me.”

She only gave him an icy glare.

“Alright, what’s bothering you this morning?”

“I stayed up too late last night and now I’m both tired and cranky.”

He stared. “Then why don’t you sleep?”

“We have school.”

“Not right now. Just take a nap. I’ll wake you up.”

Vivien squinted skeptically.

“I promise.”

She sighed. “I’m no good at napping.”

“What? What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m no good at napping.”

“How can you be bad at napping? It’s not like...a talent, or a skill.”

“I have to have complete darkness to sleep,” she explained.

“Like...complete? Not even a little light?”

“I mean, a little is okay. Like, the smoke alarm light. Or if there’s a light on outside my room shining through under the door. That kind of interferes with my sleeping, but not enough to keep me awake for long.”

“Interesting.” He nodded, body turned to face her.

“Annoying,” she corrected.

“Here.” He pulled off his jacket, handing it to her. “Just put this over your head. It will be like the sun isn’t even shining.”

“It isn’t. It’s raining James.”

“You know what I mean. It will block out what limited light we get in this lovely little corner of the worst place in the world.”

“You forgot about Detroit.”

“You’re right. How obtuse of me.”

She smiled a little, shaking her head at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Just go to sleep.” He balled up the jacket, throwing it at her.

Vivien unrolled it, pulling it over her head and leaning up against the back of the seat. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. It smelled like his cologne, spicy and warm. It was soothing, not too strong and not too soft.

Before she knew it, she really was asleep. She never thought she would be very good at napping, but James’ jacket was surprisingly comfortable and kept it just dark enough for her to be able to slip away into her dreams or lack thereof.

When she woke up, it was to a light shaking of her shoulder. It took her a moment to gather her wits, eyes slowly prying themselves open and squinting against the light. The sun had found its way into her eyes, the jacket having slipped down around her shoulders. At some point, her head had also slipped, landing on James’ shoulder, where she had unconsciously snuggled into him.

“Hey there, sunshine. Time to wake up,” he said softly.

“No.” She whined, sitting up slowly.

“Yes. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we have arrived.”

“I don’t want to learn today.”

“Do you ever want to learn?”

“Yes. Did you know that when you’re stabbed the best idea is for you to actually not pull the knife out? It acts as a stopper to keep the blood in. Also, if you pulled it out you could end up scraping major organs and further hurting yourself.”

“How..?” He trailed off.

“A very excellent English teacher of mine. She taught us all kinds of fun stuff, and she used to go on these incredible tangents about her own personal life as examples of how to tell a story. She was absolutely wild. I was never sure if she was telling the truth or if she was just making up a new story.” Vivien smiled.

“I’ll admit it. That sounds awesome.”

“Yep. And we’re going to be late. Can’t have you ruining that shiny reputation of yours.” Vivien grabbed her backpack again, getting up with James to head off the bus.

“Reputation? What reputation?” He grinned at her.

“You have one. Trust me.” She hopped down off the bus.

“What? You have to tell me!”

“Maybe later, gotta go!”

She ran off before he could say anything else, racing to make her World History class. Vivien listened intently, watching the story of those who came before her unfold itself slowly. Even if the narrator was perhaps not the most talented, the story itself was undeniably interesting. There was just something so fascinating to her about how completely different the world had been even just a year ago. The way people were always bending, always changing. It was like nothing else.

History ended too soon, fading away into what was easily her least favorite subject. Math was cold and hard and confusing. It had no personality, no life to it. It was completely empty to her. Maybe some people found meaning in the numbers, but to her, it was all cynical and calculating. She couldn’t understand it at all.

Also, it was hard to concentrate because she had a crick in her neck. Damn it, James.

Eventually, she got the small mercy of being able to head off to lunch. She said small mercy because she had the same lunch period as James, meaning she wouldn’t get a moment of peace for herself. There was still food though, so that was nice.

Karen had packed her a lunch today, and she wondered if that was going to become a regular thing. It was peanut butter and jelly, cut diagonally in a nice, clean slice. Was it a little juvenile? Yes. But Vivien had to admit that she sort of liked it. It made her nostalgic in an odd way, considering she hadn’t really eaten peanut butter and jelly as a kid and so didn’t really have any reason to be nostalgic. She wasn’t complaining though.

She bit into it, humming slightly at the taste. There was nothing quite like peanut butter. Unquestionably one of the best foods in the world.

She ate slowly, unable to bring herself to speed up the process so that she could eat before James arrived and tried to talk her ear off.

“Peanut butter and jelly.” She heard him before she saw him. “Nice. A classic.”

He sat down across from her, unpacking his own turkey sandwich.

“Yeah. I guess.” She shrugged.

“There’s just something about the classics, you know? It’s like, Pretty Woman reasonably should not be that much better than any given modern movie, but it is purely because...it’s a classic. It’s like wine that gets better as it ages. It’s such a weird social phenomenon. I wonder if there’s a scientific explanation for that. Like, why do we think things that are older are better?”

“Exactly! Maybe it’s because we’re socialized to respect our elders, and so we assume older things are better?” Vivien pondered, taking a sip of her juice.

“Yeah, maybe. I feel like that’s not it though. Too logical.”

She laughed. “Yeah, pretty much. If it makes sense, it’s probably not the answer.”

“Psych 101.” He gave her finger guns from where he sat across from her.

“Seriously though? Most of what you learn in psychology is that your brain is dumb as a rock. I mean, for real. Ockham’s Razor. The simplest answer is the answer. No questions asked.”

“That sort of explains how humanity is so dumb at least.”

“Untrue. There are smart humans.”

“Maybe they just beat the system,” he suggested.

“Maybe.” She shrugged.

He laughed, shaking his head as he finished off his sandwich. “Damn, Vivien. It’s going to be hard being friends with you. You’re too clever for me.”

Her smile faltered, and she picked the crust off her sandwich. She was going to eat it, but only the top part. The rest of it was gross and unnecessary and an affront to humanity when it wasn’t toasted.

“What?” He frowned, seeing the look on her face.

“Nothing.” She smiled stiffly.

“Okay, something is wrong, and you’re not telling me.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “Knowing me, it’s probably something I said. So, are you going to tell me?”

“It’s nothing. Really.”

“Careful. Your pants are going to catch on fire.”

“I’m willing to take that risk.” She smirked, unashamedly arrogant.

“Pretty please with me buying you ice cream on top?”

“You’re going to buy me ice cream?” She raised an eyebrow.

“If you tell me why you’re upset.”

She sighed. “You drive a hard bargain, Hunter. If you must know, most people find it difficult to be friends with me because I’m too clever. Or whatever nonsense. People just...find me difficult. Which you probably will eventually.” She cleared her throat. “Which will probably be to my benefit, since you’re insufferable.”

“Well then I guess that makes us a good match. We’re both insufferable, which means we’re probably the only people who can stand each other. Nice try, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Now, what’s your last class of the day?”

Naturally, James won the ensuing fight about whether or not he should actually buy her ice cream. He really was the worst. Her irritation towards him only increased when he was waiting for her outside of therapy. “Did you have to-”

“James!” Mrs. Brannigan smiled. “So good to see you. How can I help you?”

“I’m just here to pick up Vivien, Mrs. Brannigan.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d made a friend,” Mrs. Brannigan said, turning to face her.

“It didn’t seem relevant,” Vivien grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The thing I’ve been bugging you about for months didn’t seem like something you should tell me about?” Her annoyance was palpable.

“We really have to go, Mrs. Brannigan. We’ll see you later though!” James gave her a smile, trying to charm the woman, no doubt.

“Alright. Well, I’ll see you soon Vivien.”

Vivien was already speed-walking away, only offering a wave over her shoulder. James was jogging to keep up with her, nearly out of breath.

“What part of, ‘you can meet me by the gym,’ didn’t you understand?”

“The entire reason you agreed to be friends with me is so that Mrs. Brannigan would get off your back. Now, she’ll get off your back.”

“Knowing her, she probably won’t, but thank you for the effort I suppose.”

James opened the door, and she thanked him quietly, eager to get out of there.

“So where are we going, oh knight in shining armor?”

“O'Connell's. Best ice cream in town.”

“That’s the most accurate thing you’ve said all day.”

“Not true,” he said, heading out into the parking lot. “I gave a great presentation in English Lit. You just weren’t there to hear it.”

“Well, my apologies. I thought you took the bus this morning?”

“I did. Because I left my car in the parking lot yesterday. I don’t usually drive into school, but I missed first period yesterday and then forgot that I drove here after.”

“Absent-minded much?”

He unlocked his car, the clicking noise guiding her eyes to the white 4-door about 5 cars away from them.

“You have no idea. I would forget my own head if it wasn’t attached to my shoulders.”

They got in the car, bantering with each other on the drive to O’Connell’s.

“Mint chocolate chip is way better than generic chocolate.”

“Not true!” He argued, opening her door for her. “Chocolate is the ultimate flavor. The OG. There is no questioning the greatness of chocolate.”

“Listen, chocolate fudge? Chocolate with brownie bits? Chocolate with candy? All superior to mint chocolate chip. But regular chocolate? No way. There’s just no way.”

“Blasphemy.” The bell over the door jingled as they headed into the little ice cream parlor.

“I’ll have your best flavor, mint chocolate chip,” Vivien said when it was their turn to order, giving James a pointed look.

“I’ll have chocolate because it’s way better than mint chocolate chip.” He didn’t break eye contact with her, and she squinted as they had a stare-off.

She caught the smirk of the cashier as James reached over her shoulder to pay. “I can pay for my own.”

“You probably can. But we had a deal.”

She frowned. “I was conned.”

“You were conned into me buying you ice cream?”

“Yes. I’m buying you a candy bar tomorrow to make up for it.”

“You have a problem. Do you know that?” He headed over to one of the high stools by the counter, Vivien hot on his tail.

“So I’ve been told.” The bitterness seeped through her words as she took a seat next to him, taking a bite of her ice cream and licking the spoon.

“That’s not what I meant.” He spoke quietly, spinning the pink bar stool back and forth slightly with his feet.

“I know.”

The counter was a very fascinating shade of lime green. Gosh, she’d forgotten how completely ugly this place was. She loved it.

“I didn’t mean to imply that there’s anything wrong with you. I just meant…”

“Really, Hunter. Don’t worry about it. In both senses, you would have been correct, so no hard feelings.”

“I’m a jerk.”

“True, but unrelated to the current conversation. Now shut your pretty mouth and eat your boring chocolate ice cream.”

“It’s not boring!”

She giggled, eyes growing wide with panic as she caught the scheming look in his eyes. She realized too late though, and then he was tickling her.

“Stop! Stop this is torture!”

She was crying, laughing so hard she didn’t hear the ring of the doorbell again. The last thing on her mind was the tall man in all black ordering strawberry ice cream at the counter, so when he came to sit down next to them she didn’t think much of it. Or at least, not until he said her name.

“Hello, Vivien.”

James stopped tickling her, and she looked up in surprise. His baseball cap was sitting on the table, and he was watching her, looking faintly amused.

“Frank? Is that you?”

He just grunted in response, which she took as a yes.

“What are you doing in town?”

The slight blush and the shifty eyes told her pretty much everything she needed to know.

“Here to see Karen, huh?” She grinned.

“We have some business we need to discuss.”

“Uh huh. Sure. Would that business involve you guys practicing your mouth to mouth skills? CPR is important to know.”

Frank gave her a look.

“All I’m saying is that Karen still hasn’t stopped talking about your last visit.”

He seemed pleased by that, while James looked a little confused.

“Hi. I’m James,” he said, taking it upon himself to do introductions.

“Frank. Frank Castiglione. You a friend of Vivien’s?” Frank looked skeptical, at best.

“Yes, sir.”

“James, this is Karen’s boyfriend Frank. Don’t mind him. He looks cranky but really he’s a marshmallow.”

James smirked a little, eyes dancing with the laughter she was starting to become familiar with.

“I’m not Karen’s boyfriend. She’s just a friend,” Frank spoke up.

Vivien ignored him. “Anway, they probably have a date tonight or something.”

“It’s not a date. It’s just a casual dinner. You’re invited too. I’m surprised Karen didn’t tell you.”

“Wait wait wait-you’re having dinner at our house?” Vivien said. “Karen didn’t tell me!”

Frank got a strange look on his face, and Vivien quickly decided that she really, really didn’t like it. It was his thinking face and not a thinking face that meant anything good for her. Eventually, it turned into a smirk, and Vivien liked that even less.

“James, right? You should come too. I didn’t know Vivien had friends.”

“I don’t think-”

“I’d be honored. Thank you for the invite, Mr. Castiglione.”

“James, are you sure you want to-”

“Don’t worry Viv. My parents are always trying to get me to get out more anyway.”

He had a knowing grin on his face like he knew he was pushing her. He had a knack for always knowing exactly how far to push her, and she didn’t like it. She preferred to stay in her comfort zone, even if it made her a social fossil.

“I guess I’ve been outvoted.”

“I’m supposed to be good for you, Vivien. Good for you doesn’t mean letting you make bad choices. Like choosing mint chocolate chip over chocolate.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Perhaps.”

“Are you two done yet?” Frank stood up, putting his baseball cap back on and pulling the hood of his jacket up.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re coming. Did you drive here?” Vivien asked.

“Yep. I’m the black Acura.”

“I hope you know that I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s that one, right over there,” James said, pointing over her shoulder.

“Yep. Kid’s right. You guys can follow behind me.” Frank did a crappy job of showing it, but if you squinted you could tell he was impressed by the kid’s car knowledge.

They headed out, Frank holding the door for both of them. She buckled up in the passenger seat of James’ car, leaning back and closing her eyes while he turned on the radio to some generic pop station. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this was what he always listened to, or if he was just playing it in the hopes that she would like it, or at least not hate it. In the foreground though, she was thinking about how she was going to turn Frank Castle in to the police.

There was no way this was going to go well for her. An awkward dinner party. Why did it always have to be an awkward dinner party?

#as the raven flies #frank castle #the punisher #oc #karen page #mcu #frank #castle #punisher #karen #page #kastle

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canvaswolfdoll · 7 years

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CanvasWatches: Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid

Sarcastic lead? Goofy supporting cast? Loving use of nerdity? Maid uniforms? Fantastical elements stuffed into a slice-of-life narrative? Well, that’s certainly something for me!

Also, it’s alarming how often Quetzalcoatl's been popping up in my work and entertainment. I mean, it’s not an excessive amount, to be honest, but considering my original assumption was ‘Obscure Mythological Figure improperly transplanted into an anime film’, anything more than once is notable.[1]

Perhaps this is punishment for using a mondegreen of the name as my sign off phrase…

Anyways, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid! It was spoken of highly by an anime reviewer I follow, it was on Funimation, and I need to justify that subscription beyond letting my brother watch Case Closed all the time, so…

Let’s talk about the show.

In a bit of an oddity, I’ve found the Opening and Closing sequences very absorbing. Now, I’m not one to ever skip either in a series, as it’s usually well animated, the music is catchy, and it’s a couple minutes to settle in or grab food or whatever, plus (depending on the player) it can be a chore to skip anyways. There are often neat details hidden away, too, and it’s fun to learn the context of images as you go through the series.

The OP in this case struck me by how it triggered not the ‘Ah, Anime opening song’ switch in my brain, but a ‘Ah, Visual Novel opening song’ switch, which is a weird switch to learn I have, since I haven’t actually played that many Visual Novels. Still, the music itself is upbeat, very energetic, and very “Oh yeah! Let’s get into this! Time to read a bunch, make choices, and seduce a girl!” But I have no agency in the upcoming events, Anime! Why are you trying to make me hyped? It’s working, but I don’t understand the effort.

It’s also paired with the trippiest imagery I’ve seen in awhile, with fractal dragons and people spinning like falling seedlings. Still bright and colorful, and there’s faces to meet over the course of the show, but it’s just utterly bizarre. Maybe because I don’t get exposed to purely comedic animes that often I’m not used to it, but it’s still a ride that I lack the tools to properly contextualize.

Actually, now that I think about it and listen to the song divorced from the imagery, the song reminds me of Rune Factory Frontier’s opening. Huh…

The EP, on the other hand, is a more reasonable montage of Daily Life, with a song that’s also fun. It actually strikes me as more of an OP piece. I really like the song. Considering it’s been a very recent realization for me that Music Albums are intentionally curated objects meant to be listened to straight through to convey meaning, instead of a bunch of singles thrown on a disc, I may not be the guy for musical criticism.

Music is an ineffable magic to me. I lack the tools to create or understand it, but some songs are good?

This had been a tangent. Let’s go to what I’m comfortable with: storytelling!

So let’s take a brief look at something most people take for granted: the episode titles and, in relation, names.[3]

Naming things is a hard task which I have managed to become moderately good at, a fact I derive from the time a classmate in a scriptwriting class asked with mild awe at how I came up with so many names[4] for my 10-minute comedy play. The secret, as with all artistic aspects you find difficult, is figure out a functional system and maintain it.

So I’ve developed a few methods for characters:

Start with a theme (in the case of my play, I was actually going through alphabetically as characters are mentioned) but don’t be afraid to break it if you feel like it.

Stick with one or two syllable names. The longer the name, the harder it’ll be to remember. Same with not going too archaic or foreign with the name. If your audience can’t remember the character’s name or how to pronounce it, they’ll focus more on that than the story.

If you break rule two, it’s on you to have a nickname prepared that follows rule two. If you don’t, I’m going to call you Windy Jerk in my post RPG Session write-ups.[5]

Which is fine for characters, but then there’s titles, which I’m no good at. Titles need to be both intriguing and vague, to draw in an audience, but keep them surprised. This is compounded when you have 13-26 episodes to name. Some shows do a good job at consistently coming up with names, or at least semi-adequate puns, and others just call the episodes ‘[Episode/Chapter/Part]’ and the number in the sequence. Both of these are valid techniques.[6]

Which is why Word Salad Titles stick out so much, and why I love them yet can’t quite master using them myself. They manage being vague not by carefully revealing little information, but overloading with data so fast the audience doesn’t have time to parse it before the shows starts.

Also, they just sound funny.

What’s intriguing about Dragon Maid is that it’s not an extreme example of the Word Salad some comedy animes tend towards (Exclamatory statement! Vague plot summary), but it is a style very similar to myself.[7]

Dragon Maid’s episode titles follow the structure of exclamatory sentences, then gentle snark about the title in parenthesis. While I don’t use exclamations often, the statement followed by snark is something I do with my art work [[Maybe provide examples?]] and is even punctuated the same way, with parentheses implying an aside.

Which is also the speech style of our titular Miss Kobyashi. (Check out my sweet transition!)

Ms. Kobayashi is the first character I’ve deeply related to in a long while. Sarcastic and pretty asocial, she starts the series living alone in an one-bedroom apartment and has a single friend from work. Otherwise, Kobayashi is content with her solitude, engaging in quiet interests. It's not exactly emotionally fulfilling, but it's okay. She doesn't really feel the need for more.

Which is just the opening needed for a Manic Pixie Dream Girl! In the form of a Yandere Dragon Maid Girl.

Manic Pixie Dream Girls have received some negative press,[8] which isn't completely unwarranted, but sells the trope short. After all, when you really get down to it, they're the personification of the inciting incident. A character whose arrival kicks starts the protagonist’s journey of self improvement. Sometimes they need to be dragged kicking and screaming for the first leg, because it's funnier that way. Often times, when using a Dream Girl character, writers take a romantic angle because… that's a popular and relatable motivation I guess? The problem comes when the narrative is locked close to the protagonist, leaving not enough space to develop the Dream Girl beyond that scope.

Fortunately, since Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid is a serial narrative, and it's Tohru bringing in most of the supporting cast, our Dragon Maid doesn't fall into that pit trap.

Tohru is a fish out of water, which I really love seeing when the environment is our own. It’s a good method to work observational humor into a work, as well as odd ball humor for the alien being. Usually, there is an air of innocence to the character. Tohru, meanwhile, comes from what is implied to be a war-torn fantasy realm, and prefers to default to chaos and destruction when unsure.

It’s a good take.

Kobayashi doesn’t take too much interest in Tohru’s origins, greeting (most) new acts of magic and property damage with half-lidded neutrality or annoyance. Since the focus of the show is ‘The supernatural adjusting to the mundane,’ Kobayashi’s disinterest is important. There are many other shows you can watch if you want to see a normal person come to grips with a magic world,[9] so Kobayashi needs to act as a guide character for the normal world.

Even as these dragon interlopers force her into a parental role and build out her friend circle.

That first point is possibly one of more unique traits, as rarely do Animes present their protagonist taking on the role of adoptive parent. Or parent at all. Maybe a few world-wandering shows will have found families, but I can’t think of another example where the character’s arc is that of becoming more domestic.

Which is why I appreciate Kanna.

Kanna is the second dragon to move from The Other World to Our World, banished for playing too many pranks to get attention from her parents. However, despite this supposed impish nature, she’s the most reserved of the Dragons, content to living like she’s Kobayashi’s nine-year old daughter, with Tohru acting as sort of an older sister. I think this is kind of a lost opportunity, because we could’ve kept all that, and also have Kanna play a few small pranks from time to time out of boredom and discontent. That could’ve been a nice, additional reason for Kobayashi to enroll Kanna in school: not out of malice but to give the young dragon some engagement during the day.

Then Fafnir and Queztal ‘Lucoa’ Coatl start visiting, then moving into the neighborhood.

Fafnir is my favorite of the dragons. He’s initially introduced as your usual bloodthirsty and treasure-obsessed dragon, which is fine, but then the series uses those traits to have him comfortably slip into a NEET lifestyle, which is hilarious. He gets to enact violence in video games and collect treasures in the form of promotional items, while still staying a grump.

Lucoa is… she started as the Sane member of the Dragon cast, giving exposition on what Tohru was like before and generally just being chill. However, in moving her to the world, she signs herself up as a familiar for a young mage, and starts… creeping on him is the best I charitably describe it. Shouta has no interest in these advances, and watching it played out on screen isn’t charming. Also, I’m afraid I have to align myself as opposed to the ‘Patriarchy’ line, because it does seem out of character.[10]

About halfway through, Elma arrives, after seven episodes of being the mysterious water dragon in the opening, inspiring me to see if I couldn’t align the dragons with the Rune Factory dragons.[11]

I… like Elma, but she’s underutilized. After her introductory episode, she’s just food obsessed and does literally nothing of consequence. She doesn’t even get a human to bond with like the others. Nothing is fleshed out for her. Unfortunate, as she looks cute with her glasses.

As a part of the theme, most of the dragons[12] are given a human to who they grow close.

Tohru, obviously, has Kobayashi. Tohru is very direct with her affections, while Kobayashi has to warm up to her dragon maid, and the exact degree Kobayashi returns the affections (whether it’s platonic or romantic on her end) isn’t pinned down exactly.

In contrast, Kanna has Saikawa, who has an obvious crush on Kanna, which she hides poorly. Though Kanna acts oblivious to what she does to Saikawa, Kanno does indicates an interest in… some sort of relationship that parallels Kobayashi and Tohru.

Actually, the show seems to have a problem with putting minors into sexual situations. It’s fine with Kanna and Rika, as they are essentially the same age and Saikawa’s squeeing, though transparent, is kept at an age-appropriate level. The two only have the one moment while visiting Saikawa’s house that’s uncomfortable, and that’s initiated by Kanna.

Shouta and Lucoa are just uncomfortable.

Fanservice is a contentious subject. What is okay, and what crosses a line? What level of slapback against perverts makes it even? Why am I (seemingly) one of the few that takes no umbrage against MHA’s Mineta but dislike Lucoa’s portrayal?

I typically avoid Anime that put sexual fanservice as one of its selling points. For example, before starting on Dragon Maid, I watched the first two episodes of WorldEnd: What are you doing at the end of the world? Are you busy? Will you save us? which is an epic word salad of a title which invokes the image of some shy person trying to ask someone out on a date that’s also a world-saving quest, but doesn’t want to over step. However, it quickly became clear the focus is pretty much a rescue romance focused on a bunch of characters the narrative goes through pain to tell you are 15 at the oldest. Also, a troll that wants to eat the protagonist which, recent meme culture aside, would’ve been an interesting dynamic to watch. Too bad the rest of the introductory episodes were too skeevy.

Which is to say, I’m easily tossed when a piece of media’s centerpoint is fanservice, made worse when it’s creepy fanservice to the detriment of world and narrative.

Then there’s Mineta who, foolishly, I’m going to try and defend now? Because the subjects of Mineta’s perversions are also approximately 15 years old, as above. However, Mineta is the same age as his classmates, which flattens the power dynamic.

‘But Canvas! It’s an excuse to show the audience fanservice of 15-year olds!’ you may say.

Okay. It’s a Shonen. The target audience are young males, approximately the same age as the cast. Are you really going to say you didn’t have a couple crushes on your peers as a teenager? It’s okay to let teenagers be attracted to other teenagers. As for the adult members of the audience? Let them smile whimsically at what it was like to be that age.

And his peers do admonish and punish him for going too far. If it’s not enough punishment for you, well, that’s up to your interpretation. I give it a pass because the tone is kept light and Mineta unable to do any actual harm. And comedy works best through exaggeration. A man getting stabbed is tragic. A man getting impaled onto an oversized firework that shoots into the air and explodes is slapstick. Also, the kid’s 15, he has time to mature and get character progression.

But you know who I never hear any ill words against? Midnight. Superheroine in a skintight outfit, whose schtick is bondage, and uses flirty tones towards students. Now that’s super uncomfortable. Because she is in a position of authority, and receives zero pushback for how she acts around her students.[13] Yet, the fanbase seems to give her a pass. Why? She actually acts more predatory than Mineta, and her power literally knocks her opponents out. She is dripping with poor implications.

I could go in depth, but I think that’s enough of a baseline to continue the review. The appropriateness of Fanservice depends on the viewer, and can be fickle, so excuse me if I can’t give a bullet point list of my own policies.[14]

So, let’s return to Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid, which undoubtedly has strong element of fanservice. Why does it (mostly) succeed?

Well, first off, it’s kept tongue in cheek. The adult female dragons have ridiculous proportions, which gets lampshaded heavily, but their huge tracts of land are rarely used as a value judgement on the cast. They’re magical beings, if they want to look that way, it’s on them.

Next, there’s little power imbalance in the relationships. Tohru begins the series making her intentions towards Kobayashi clear, but after a couple rejections, the lines are established and respected. Tohru loves Kobayashi, but she wants any return in affections to be gained honestly. So even with Tohru’s immense physical and magical strength, and Kobayashi being placed in the role of ‘Master’, they’re both equal in establishing boundaries and respecting them.

And tone is very important. It’s a comedy series, so actions and emotions can be big and exaggerated. So, exaggerated proportions, exaggerated yuri-teasing, exaggerated violence, and exaggerated reactions. Saikawa happily screams every time Kanna does something cute, and it works because it’s a comedic reaction.

However, Lucoa breaks these rules. She answers Shouta’s summons and becomes his familiar. However, Shouta is maybe 10 or eleven to Lucoa’s presented, let’s say, late-twenties, and Lucoa comes on to this literal child. A child who rejects the advances and explicitly tells her not to. And Lucoa can’t claim ignorance, so she’s intentionally violating boundaries. It’s unbalanced power, ignores established lines, and turns Lucoa’s physical form into a joke, which all shifts the comedic tone.

Then (and I originally wanted to avoid this topic) the dub gives her a line about changing to more conservative dress because she was growing tired of patriarchal pressure. Lucoa had spent the series to the point as the most overtly sexualized character by her own decision, even getting into legal trouble once or twice, and creeping on a child. Then the writing wants to try and shame the audience over a character placed before them. It’s a line that might’ve worked if delivered by Tohru or Elma,[15] as it would’ve continued the theme of the the world pushing back against Lucoa. It’s also winter, so passing it off as the ex-goddess caving to nature would have worked, especially since the feathered serpent is from a tropical climate, and is a giant snake, so needing to bundle up against cold works.

I should not be forming opinions about this mythology! Why are you doing this to me, anime?

So, late-run Lucoa aside, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid is a fun show with strong world building, an interesting story, and pretty good comedy. I recommend it.

If you enjoyed this review, you should check out my other writings. I like talking about things, so if you want to send me asks, I’d be happy to engage. Also, hey, I have a patreon, in case you want to support me and my various endeavours. Thanks for reading.

Kataal Lucoa.

[1] I was kind of sort of hired to write a children’s play about Quetzalcoatl once, and I was not the person to suggest it.[2] [2] It was an okay piece. There was talk of maybe developing it further, but to be honest, South American Mythology doesn’t interest me. [3] A topic I must’ve covered before, but I can’t remember where. Repeated lessons can be good, though, so tough it out. [4] To be fair, there were only two active characters on stage, one body, and three further mentioned names, for a total of six. I still take pride because I lack confidence in names. [5] I only do this when I’m a player. As a GM I try to respect player choices, but still, throw me a bone, please. [6] This is why my reviews have the formula of Canvas_____: Review Subject. [7] I am vain and like things that remind me of myself. [8] Says the never been kissed white guy… [9] I recommend Digimon! [10] However, it’s a brief throwaway line, so I’m not one to make a fuss. Just gentle tutting. [11] It falls apart very quickly. Terrable could be Lucoa, but there’s no one for Ventuswill. [12] Or ex-goddess, in the case of Lucoa. [13] Student-Teacher romances being, of course, a bugbear that’s been growing for me recently. [14] It’d probably be mostly glasses focused, anyways. [15] Who is lawfully aligned. And would’ve given her more than food to stress about.

#CanvasWatches #miss kobayashi #dragon maid #anime #CanvasReviews #kobayashi-san chi no maid dragon

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drink-n-watch · 4 years

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Genre : Comedy, Slice of life, school, yurish

Episodes: 12

Studio: Passione

High school is the busiest time in a young woman’s life. It’s a time when she has to figure out what she’s going to do with the rest of her life, who she wants to be with and just generally what kind of person she is and wants to become. There is so much going on. Everything is changing at breakneck speed and everything is left to be learned. It’s a miracle high school girls get any sleep at all. So naturally, high school is the best time to waste as much time as possible on “amazing” ideas and idle thoughts. High school can be stressful but it can also be hilarious.

I’ll be honest with you, I wanted to watch Wasteful Days of High School Girls pretty much as soon as it got announced but didn’t get to it as it was airing and then couldn’t find it on my streaming platforms. So now, I actually got HiDive mostly for this one show. (I really like HiDive, I’m glad I took the plunge). And the reason I wanted to see Wasteful Days of High School Girls so much??? The title was vaguely evocative of Daily Lives of High School Boys. That’s all. I looked into it after watching the show and the two really have nothing to do with each other at all. Hooray for informed decisions!

look we all do things on a whim sometimes…

I really like comedies. Actual HAHA slapstick comedies as opposed to the more common MOE or CGDCT genre which I also like for different reasons. I only make the distinction because traditionally these two genres have very different art styles and visuals. To put it bluntly, I really like comedies but they’re often kind of…ugly… OK not ugly but maybe a little flat? Moe and Cute character animes bank a lot on visuals as part of the appeal. As such they often have very beautiful colour palettes and really adorable designs. Straight up comedies (in my experience) tend towards simplistic and easy to distort designs that aren’t bad but are rarely that special. And for some reason they often have very saturated but restrained colour palettes. The aforementioned Daily Lives would be an example, Saiki K is another that comes to mind. I love both of these shows and I think some of those characters are quite scrumptious but you know what I mean. Right? Man I hope you know what I mean. Cause if you don’t I just wasted a lot of both our time. How fitting!

Anyways, I just said all that to tell you, Wasteful Days of High School Girls isn’t like that! Do they have amateur reviewer awards? I feel like I just earned one!

Thank you!!!

Wasteful Days of High School Girls is really great to look at. I love all the character designs, the backgrounds are simple but nicely rendered and scenes feel full. I particularly liked Akane’s (Wota) bedroom and was even a bit jealous. Then I realized I love my bedroom. The visual world is nice and lively with background characters milling around and animation is fluid and pleasant to watch.

It’s a well crafted show and maybe I’m being unfair but it’s much nicer looking than I expected from a comedy.

look at this sunset!!!

Narratively speaking, well it did in fact remind me a whole lot of Daily Lives of High School Boys. That’s why I looked it up, I was sort of convinced they had been written by the same person. Turns out, not at all. Wasteful days is based on a pixiv comic written by an very talented young lady. I’m really happy to we’ve gotten to a point where pixiv artists can get an anime made based on the quality of their work. It’s sort of inspiring.

I went on a tangent there. That’s o.k., this show does that a lot. It’s essentially a series of absurdist or observational jokes strewn together. Unlike Daily Lives or even Saiki, instead of being short sketches with a constant setup – punchline rhythm, Wasteful Days is more structurally similar to a sitcom where the jokes are all brought together in a loose episode specific plot, often with a B plot thrown in. As such there is a bit more continuity in the delivery and less jokes to leave more room for development. This said, the type of humour is pretty much the same.

the reinvented running to school with toast joke felt like a smart hommage

And that’s a good thing. Wasteful Days of High School Girls made me actually laugh out loud a few times which is not that common for shows to do. Some of the jokes were quite brilliant and I got pretty attached to the characters in only 12 episodes as they served as more than just vehicles for jokes and even got individual character arcs. This cast was really well developed in just one season. On the downside, this tweak in structure meant that boring episodes really dragged on and if a joke or premise wasn’t my thing I was stuck with it for close to a half hour instead of just a few minutes.

Still, I thought this show was utterly enjoyable and an easy distraction for when you are in the mood for a few laughs. I was very happy I randomly watched it on a completely mistaken assumption that was all in my head. So if like me you enjoyed the Daily Lives of High School Boys, I would recommend Wasteful Days of High School Girls, the two have nothing to do with each other….

Also, because I think this post is not nearly confusing enough, here is my favourite Daily Lives of High School Boys sketch. Still one of my favourite comedy sketches.

youtube

For the record, me favourite episode of Wasteful Days was the night at the school swimming pool episode!

Favorite character: Kanade

What this anime taught me: Strapless bras are full of risks

“Everybody’s got to believe in something. I believe I’ll have another drink.”

Suggested drink: Toxic Waste

Every time Tanaka is boy crazy – take a sip

Every time Akane lets her hair down – take a sip

Every time Akane gets BL eyes – Gasp!

Every time Tanaka gets insulted – giggle

Every time Sensei is exasperated – sigh and take a sip

Every time Tanaka gets serious – take a sip

Every time loli is preoccupied by her looks – take a sip

Every time Robo shows emotion – stop drinking you’re clearly drunk

Every time loli cries – switch to water

Every time Sensei clarifies his preferences – take a sip

Every time the girls are at the train station – take a sip

Every time Kanade blushes – take a sip

if it’s at Robo – squeeee

Every time Tamamoto gets called to the office – take a sip

Every time Tanaka has something “amazing” to say – take a sip

I said it was a pretty show so I should really prove it somehow…

Wasteful Days of High School Girls Genre : Comedy, Slice of life, school, yurish Episodes: 12 Studio: Passione High school is the busiest time in a young woman's life.

#anime #comedy #LesYay #School #slice of life #Wasteful Days of High School Girls

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