#there are patterns here that i am UNWILLING to confront | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

larrythefloridaman · 3 years

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Y'all like your deities with or without the shell?

Under the readmore is aaaaaaaaall color god observations and musings based on them, because I am studying to become the world's Premiere Chromatheologian and RGB Understander so under the cut is pretty much Oops! All Spoilers! up to the most recent episode of season 3.

Apparently Universal Color God Attributes:

Damage to their domain hurts them, but fixing the issue, or lashing out by using their powers destructively, can help them to repair the damage.

If they sustain enough damage, it can temporarily paralyze them and send them into a strengthened but 'exposed' state (chartreuse's spirit activation in the last fight of 19) and further damage after that will activate a failsafe, which is unique by domain but seemingly designed to give them the chance to balance things, but can get… very out of hand or backfire depending on circumstances. (see: cobalt’s failsafe sending mark's universe into a never-ending apocalyptic war because word of the cure for death became too widespread for the killing urge failsafe to affectively balance anything because every side could simply revive their fallen.)

Chartreuse's failsafe is something of a stopped time bubble quarantine where processes that require the passing of time cannot complete, allowing her the time to wear down the offending party to beat them to death or plan around finishing them.

Cobalt's is inciting war, the casualties serving to balance the scale. I'm not sure we know Crimson's yet- he's never taken enough direct damage without doing damage to compensate in order to trigger it, although i dont remember season one well enough to recall if any of the universe stuff in it tracks with the pattern bc season one is a bit fucky

Connected in a fashion that allows them to simply Sense the overall status of the others to some extent, although they don't know Why theyre in the state theyre in without asking (chartreuse [and by extension, folk, presumably on her information] confronting crimson via crimsonaut for pretending to be dead, Cobalt confronting both his siblings about how they are handling their duties improperly but not knowing about Folk. He knew about the constants deaths because hes a death god, duh, but he didnt use their names like crimson did, possibly implying they're erased upon death so thoroughly that only crimson and the constants can really recall a shattered constants' existence, not even the other guardians.)

Abilities of the guardians can be replicated by mortals through three apparent methods- through machines (dimensional bus, the time machine, presumably J0hn's part in Sephiroth's resurrection,) simply through advanced enough individual skill (Home MD curing death, potentially Dantoinette's universe portal travel, maybe Genwun's sped up time bubble that evolved them into Genfour? although that could very well have just been an illusion and theyre just like, a fuckin theater kid that was doing pretend character development for the Bit or something given GenFive turned out to be a zoroark) or through stealing some of the power of the relevant god (Dr. Order stealing Chartreuse's power, Dani maybe having stolen some of Crimson's when she beat his ass. Dani's one woman universal travel is like, wicked ambiguous)

Cobalt:

Can seemingly perceive or act through any living material. (The Tree. Cobalt instructed Larry to slap his hand on that tree, that shit glowed and he had a new deal tattoo without Cobalt ever having been physically present)

Can influence the resurrected by giving them a killing urge. Represented by an aberrant brainwave and a ringing in the undead's heads. This doesnt appear to be direct control- as the Grunk could clearly restrain himself from killing people that genuinely didn't deserve it (like nightly and cha cha, who WERE grunk event targets but not fatally so. Nagito was a crimson thing so it really doesn't count here. God poor grunk his life really is just a constant plaything in the hands of the gods huh) and Sephiroth very much had personal motivation to want to kill Folk. failsafe activates this ability on the scale of war.

Deals. The extent of what Cobalt can do with these is unclear but Iggy's god powers were taken from him as his part in the deal so what he can take isn't limited to physical things or things obviously related to his domain.

Weaknesses:

Deals. While this ability is impressive his preference for making deals for those that offend against his domain is potentially very exploitable- Larry's knowledge of the cure for death is, if word of it were to ever get out beyond Larry, wildly dangerous for this dimension, so technically the safest thing for the iron-fisted cobalt to do would be to nip the problem in the bud and get rid of him. But, fascinatingly, that wasn't even put on the table, the first thing Cobalt does is threaten J0hn, prompting Larry to make a deal. While Cobalt enforces death, he also doesn't like unnecessary death, and Larry demonstrably knows how to keep a secret for the good of the world even at great cost to himself and Cobalt is aware of this- easily clarifying to Larry the aberrant thing endangering the universe wasn't his timeloop business. So while he's clearly not letting his resurrection fuckery go unpunished, he's being pretty merciful when he doesn't have to be and from a strictly, brutally pragmatic perspective probably shouldn't be.

His control over the undead manifests as a ringing and an aberrant brainwave trackable by J0hn's equipment, and could probably therefore be accounted for and circumvented? J0hn has, wisely, largely sworn off fucking with people's brains after the sephiroth fiasco went So Wrong, So Very Wrong, Oh God Oh Fuck Someone Cool Almost Died, but if he hadn't, and if J0hn let his dislike for authority and keeping Larry safe outweigh reason like he let safety, spite and comedic value outweigh good ethical sense when reprogramming sephiroth, in theory Mr. 'hacked a time machine for breakfast?' could. y'know. probably do it. what is a god's authority to an anarchist, what better to challenge life and death than the cold and eternal machine, you get the point its a fun scenario

Olive Garden Breadsticks and Small Cute Dogs, apparently

Chartreuse's:

Time Clones: taps into parallel timelines to retrieve alternate versions of herself to utilize.

Time Travel: what it says on the tin. Travel to the past creates painful splits in the prime timeline, but through careful action and traveling back into the past, these can be weaved into a time loop. A split from the timeline is a wound, and a successful timeloop is the surgical scar it can become with attentive care, to use a medical metaphor. Carefully closed and healing. Keeping Folk here is essentially akin to chartreuse pulling out her stitches on the initial incision.

Time Stopping: creates a space wherein things that take time to complete cannot complete, where things can move, but everything within is in a perfect unchanging stasis until the bubble drops. This is the form her failsafe takes.

Timeline Creation: can create timelines from scratch.

Can fuse alternate timeline versions of the same individual to allow them to coexist. (Ryan's confirmed in the discord that Dantoinette experienced both failures in 20, because Chartreuse fused the two instances of her to save the post-raid instance from fading. Could... theoretically do this to Folk and save herself the pain, but while Folk and Therapuppy are the same person, there's seven years and untold amounts of difference deriving from the time and circumstance between them and the inherent cognitive dissonances that would result from attempting that would be wicked fucked up to inflict, and that's assuming there isn't some reason that it wouldn't be possible anyway. while the two Danis had like. A day or so's difference between them, so she could be safely fused with the only dissonant thing being that she remembers both being too slow to prevent order's time escape and beginning to dissipate post-raid, AND losing that fight to her pre-raid. RIP Dani, that perfectionism must be kicking her ass)

Weaknesses:

Unwilling to use her powers destructively in her pursuit of domain repair and thereby much easier to damage to the point of paralyzing her, making her particularly vulnerable to Power Theft

Morally Optimistic. At one point in 19, she briefly justifies Crimson's shitty evil actions to herself after experiencing for herself how Wack the kerfuffleverse is firsthand, ("and all he did was kill a couple people!" Chartreuse. Honey.) and when she fights Crimsonaut she seems to actually believe for a second that he's actually worried about her when Crimson asks if she's okay after he beats her. Additionally, as D+, she concerns herself with trying to understand doctor order's motive, and after Larry defeats Order, he makes a point of confirming she feels no remorse before making his request for what Chartreuse does with her, and appeals to the idea of letting Order fulfill her desire to be a god in a way which isn't a problem for anyone and Chartreuse is more than happy to oblige under these conditions after what Larry's done for everybody. Then immediately threatens to evaporate him for playfully teasing her about having a crush on folk. Fucked up a little bit

Crimson's:

Universe Shifting: Travel between universes.

Universe Correction: appears to replace an aberrant individual with the 'correct' version of themselves for that universe, presumably sending them back to their own. (Mario from super mario was universe corrected, but still seemingly exists in wario form as evidenced by smashup kerfuffle, and was simply temporarily replaced with his corrected universe counterpart. But like. The dimensional bus system is still active crimbo doing the Put That Thing Back Where It Came From Or So Help Me routine aint gonna work if they can come back with a shrug and bus fare. you're fighting the symptoms without treating the problem)

Universal Constants:

Three individuals per universe that serve as the pillars which stabilize said universe, created by absorbing red orbs Crimson creates. Becoming a constant grants power, but also makes the constant fragile, and death wipes them from the face of the multiverse, only crimson, those he's possessed and the other constants seemingly able to recall they ever existed, although some physical evidence is still left behind (Larry's record of Nagito's death, which is just as redacted as everything else relating to him but still is very much something Larry has. Kind of a Voidfish adventurezone type beat ironically enough? Taako really has seen all this shit before no wonder he peaced tf out)

To counterbalance the weaknesses the constants have, they have a sort of spidey-sense to alert them to danger, and an intrinsic bonded connection to their fellow constants, and additionally, Crimson apparently doesn't suffer any pain from the death of constants or the structural instability of a universe.

Possession: what it says on the tin! Seemingly can only be done with permission to living things- none of crimson's direct hosts seem to have entered that agreement unwillingly, Valentine lost a bet, Hamburger and Crimsonaut have been by all evidence intentional allies to Crimson- but electronics are fair game, as seen with The Guy's suit. Kinda curious how that rule applies to bitches that are half and half, like J0hn or the clonebot gang, as its unclear whether The Guy's suit was yoinkable without permission because it was mechanical or because its not sentient. could go either way but if it's the former that's potentially very frightening

Fusion: Two individuals from alternate universes can be fused into one shared body which can take on aspects of either depending on which is currently in control. (possibly allows someone who traveled into a given universe to become a fixed resident there without it being an issue for Crimson, whose job is to prevent interdimensional travel?) Monday Mark and possibly T.O.M. are our main examples.

Corruption:

Unpleasant As Hell and can even kill you instead of changing you if you cant handle it.

turns the corrupted individual into a twisted exaggeration of themself, allows them supernatural control over their shape, and makes them very difficult- if not impossible by traditional means- to kill, based on Garfield.

Subjects them to control by Crimson, but can be exorcised of this influence just like crimson's direct hosts can, although the supernatural changes to their physiology are seemingly permanent, judging from Shantae.

Notable Weaknesses:

Exorcism can be performed to free a possessed or corrupted individual of Crimson's influence. Its unclear how exorcism works/is learned in CPUK, but confirmed exorcists: dantoinette and yung papaya's snake dad, confirmed non-exorcists: folk

The universal constant orbs are physical objects so they are Very Stealable and they grant a power boost so theres literally an Incentive to beat his ass for anybody who wants to be strong and either doesnt know or doesn't care about the whole 'getting erased when you die' part

Crimson has lots of tools to create pawns, but all of them have drawbacks. Corruption could kill a potential pawn, possession generally seems to require permission, and he has no control over the constants' choices and actions

Manipulative bitch's highest stat is charisma and it shows. This motherfucker is selling snake oil. If he was mortal rather than a Whole Entire God he'd make an excellent ineffectual saturday morning cartoon supervillain and i think everyone, including him, would be happier for it, ngl

Something interesting ive realized that likely wasnt fully intentional, is that a lot of Dr. Order's creations, considering her motive, can kind of be sorted by a color god it appears to be a crude attempt at mimicking the abilities of. My Grunk is a poorly executed resurrection, the clonebot gang vs chartreuse's timeclones (this one deserves special mention because Chartreuse used this shitty attempted mimicry to her advantage with D+, very smart and ironic play, excellent job Treusy,) spirits are somewhat similar to universal constant orbs (orbs which can be absorbed to grant power, but which have physical repercussions- key differences being that spirits require activation and grow stronger while attuning to a user without being used, and having far less severe drawbacks, taking a heavy toll on the body, but only once they've worn off and without the risk of wiping yourself from the face of existence,) and she also augmented Perfect Spriteman and Larry, which kind of track as crude imitations of Crimson's corruption!

Garfield was an acerbic cat who loved food and hated mondays, now its an actively malicious ever-hungry amorphous entity whose only weakness is monday and whose only consistency in form is 'cat-like.'

Shantae was (to my extremely limited understanding of shantae,) a friendly heroic type who had to introduce herself often, and she became something akin to a biblically accurate angel that can *only* introduce herself.

The Grunks a tough but sweet and supportive single dad with stage presence and a tendency to fly off the handle when he or his family are slighted, and now he gets so hype in the audience when his son does well that he bursts into flames and ascends and we get random grunk events along with the associated murder charges when he gets mad and the target sucks enough that he doesn't hold himself back from killing them.

Perfect Spriteman and Larry fit the trend of exaggeration of already present traits- Spriteman fucking loves sprite and became something that only thinks about sprite, and Larry the Florida Man, characterized from minute one by unpredictability and who spent his first matches in the series pre-shapeshifter transformation staying alive keeping stocks for Shockingly Long even despite getting seventh, became literally physically random as well as developing the ability to regenerate, albeit with the ability to feel pain normally very much intact, unlike Garfield just... Soaking up damage like its nothing in his pursuit of Jon. The fact that Arbuckle legit defeated Garfield, even temporarily, is terrifyingly impressive honestly that dude is fucking built different for being so chronically bland

i dont think they're actually corrupted in any meaningful way we have to worry about, to be fully clear, Spriteman was cured with fucking antacids, i simply think they could be a fucked up attempt at making something that kind of seems like it from a functional standpoint, from the wannabe god doctor that brought us green clones whose only fundamental association with time was accelerated aging and who thought an actively rotting corpse thats just reanimated enough that it can throw hands was as good as curing death

#cpu kerfuffle #cpuk cobalt #cpuk chartreuse #cpuk crimson #im like. 80% all this info is correct but im not feeling up to rewatching matches to doublecheck rn ngl asdsfgfghgfhfgsdf #will probably edit with fixes if im misremembering smthn later

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im-the-punk-who · 4 years

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Black Sails as John Silver's SuperVillain Origin Story

Okay so I recently got asked about my views on Silver in a roundabout way so HERE ARE SOME OF THEM. I don’t often post about him because honestly I just really dislike him but he’s an extremely well written character and one of the best ‘villains’ I have ever seen portrayed. The reason Black Sails is such a compelling prequel to Treasure Island is that it does not just say ‘John Silver is a villain because he does bad things.’ Like all the characters in Black Sails he is complex, with deep and thoughtful motivations for the things he does. We see him as a villain because Black Sails sets his goals up in opposition to those of the protagonists we want to succeed - Flint and Madi - but he is not villainous in his own right.

But it is the effects of those motivations on himself that, to me, are the most interesting.

And just up front because I know this is a touchy subject - especially coming from, well, me, lmao. This is how I read Silver. If you disagree, that’s cool. Like literally everything else in Black Sails(and fiction in general), Silver’s character is mutable based on your views and experiences. Tomato/Tomato.

So! To me, the most important thing about John Silver’s character in Black Sails, is who he is in Treasure Island. Black Sails is a prequel, and Silver is a major character in Treasure Island. We see his actions in the book(albeit through the story of the man who survives him, and, oof, isn’t that a bit of a kicker). We know that in this future Silver is still a lying, manipulative and mysterious person, hard not to like but hard to know.

That consistency is the most important part of Long John Silver’s character to me: he doesn’t really change from the beginning of Black Sails to the end, because he’s not really meant to.

Silver may not exactly like the person he is but there is no point in trying or wanting to change. In his view, who he is is just as immutable as the world he exists in.

And that's the brilliance of Black Sails.

Silver isn’t the way he is because he is ‘evil,’ or because he wants to intentionally cause harm. He is the way he is because it is the only way he’s worked out to survive. It is “the only state in which he can function.” He does not believe in a cosmic story, in a grand design or justice in the world - and because of that he does not see the point in trying to change something that has kept him alive thus far to appease it.

The entirety of the beach flashbacks is, to me, the summation of both Flint and Silver’s characters but this in particular I feel is important:

-Do you really imagine a few weeks of this is going to make much of a difference? Am I not what I am at this point?

-It's better than nothing.

In the grand scheme, Flint and Silver only know each other for about six months.

Their relationship - especially to Silver - is a transient one. A handful of weeks. Was it ever enough to expect it to make any bit of difference?

But not so for Flint. He truly believes humans are capable of change, and he believes even the smallest bit of progress is worth the effort. Flint takes the things that happen to him and make them a part of him.

But for Silver,

I've come to peace with the knowledge...that there is no storyteller imposing any coherence, nor sense, nor grace upon those events.

Therefore, there's no duty on my part to search for it.

Silver refuses to acknowledge his own story and so is unable or unwilling to see himself as capable of change throughout it. Or even really the need for change. And that’s not said as a negative - that is who he is. That is who his past - whatever it was - has taught him.

And so he consistently acts solely for his own gain, benefit, and safety. Because if he doesn’t, who else is going to?

And this continues the differences between Flint and Silver.

While Silver is very wrong that his past is irrelevant, he is correct in that it doesn't matter. It doesn’t matter what his past is, because we can clearly see the effects of it. We don't NEED to know his past to understand his actions.

However, without knowing Flint’s backstory - Thomas, Miranda, England’s betrayal - his actions don't make sense. They are erratic: they seem villainous and vile and like the acts of a tyrant or a madman. Because his actions are tied to his story.

But from the very first moment we see Silver fight the cook over what he presumes is a chance at living, Silver is clearly trying to figure out what is best for him.

He doesn’t care about Flint’s war, or what the treasure could fund. He doesn’t care about the pardons, and he doesn't care about England. He doesn’t care about piracy. All he cares about at first is the life the treasure could buy him. But when he loses his leg, suddenly the thing he literally spent two seasons fucking everyone over for becomes completely inconsequential, because it no longer benefits him.

It is without relevance.

And through the very last time we see him speaking him to Madi, he is doing the same thing.

That's not to say he doesn't form friendships or care about people. He is, indeed, a hard man not to like, and I think he also genuinely likes people as well. But that doesn’t mean he changes because of them. The friendships he forms with Flint - with Billy, with Muldoon and Randall and the other crew members - the relationship he forms with Madi. They are all real, but they are also all expendable to ensure his own comfort and survival.

In the first episode of season 2 we’re told point blank:

It’s likely that if our interests were averse, I’d betray you to save myself.

And of course at this point Silver and Flint are little more than necessary enemies, Silver has no reason to want Flint alive. But the pattern holds throughout the whole show.

Later in season 2, when Flint is thinking about changing tactics to prioritize the pardons over the gold, Silver has no problem screwing over the entire crew(minus the two men he’s recruited) to meet his own ends. It’s what’s best for him, and Silver operates on this assumption that every person needs to look out for themselves.

And then again, in the finale of season 2 - he saves the crew because it also means saving himself. When Vincent brings up leaving, Silver says that they would likely be killed if they tried - he’s already considered that option and rejected it because his odds of survival are higher sticking with the crew.

And then of course, in season three, in the maroon cages - you can bet that the fact that flint’s psyche basically controlled whether they all - including him - lived or died was a major driving force behind his dedication to getting Flint to come up with a plan better than Billy’s in which - again - they all likely end up dead.

His relationships with Madi and Flint in particular are deep, and so it is the worst thought possible when he realizes that they are starting to agree with each other, but not with him. When Madi agrees with Flint over trading the cache for the fort, I read this as the true end of Silver’s support of the war because the war now threatens his personal ‘safety.’

Because at that moment, the thing most important to him is keeping Madi - who he not only has come to care for but who supports him. And she makes him know she supports him. And the prospect of losing that is what ultimately I think drives him to planning to send Flint away, rather than bring Thomas there or some other plan.

And again it isn’t maliciousness - not outright. He is doing what he thinks he needs to to survive, because he cannot have enough faith in either Flint or Madi to think they won’t drop him the moment he stops being invaluable. And in the end, that lack of faith is what spells the end for any chance he has at having them in his life.

When he thinks Madi might die if they continue, he doesn’t care if she hates him. He doesn’t care if Flint hates him. He doesn’t care if the relationship is destroyed if he gets what he wants out of it. Madi’s survival. The end of the war. An end to Flint and Madi’s relationship so that he can ‘protect’ her from death and choose how he ‘loses’ her. It is always less painful to be the one doing the leaving.

Based on his world view - that you must protect what is in your own interests and the only person you can count on is yourself - that is the right thing to do.

Over and over we see that Silver is mostly interested in other people through the guise of his interest in keeping himself alive. And I also think that because of that, he views himself as expendable to other people as well.

When Muldoon insists that the crew would take care of him if he needed that, it’s clear that Silver doesn’t believe him. He still believes himself to be expendable unless he is useful. He is constantly managing his image, managing how people see him, managing the things he allows others to see and what dangers or threats they pose to him, because he believes these are the things that keep him safe. Not his friendships, but what he brings to them.

Part of what’s so heartbreaking about Silver’s arc in season 4 is how terrifyingly close he comes to believing himself worthy. He wants the war because the two people who mean the most to him, who he sees as vital to his own survival - Flint and Madi - are both committed to it. And he’s committed to them. But I also think that just for a second, he starts to see their vision.

When things are going well, when he can’t see the body count, he comes so close. But then of course, when everything falls apart and he is forced to confront once again the horrors of the world, he retreats.

That line he has:

And as long as (I have his true friendship) he is going to have mine.

I see that get thrown around a lot as a declaration of love, of deep feelings - and it is, to an extent. But it is also a sign of the deep mistrust that Silver harbors even when he is not looking to.

Even in this moment when he has Madi, when it must seem like they are nigh unstoppable and Silver himself is poised at the head of this great thing - when he and Flint are closest and when, I assume, Flint couldn’t fathom betraying him. Silver is still thinking in the eventuality that it will happen.

I have his true friendship, and as long as that is true, he is going to have mine.

Silver’s love is always conditional. And that doesn’t make it any less ‘real’. It doesn’t make it any less important. But it does make it easier to take back. And that’s important for him!! It’s important for Silver’s own safety that he never rely on someone so much that he cannot cut them loose if they pose a ‘danger’ to him.

And to me, that’s the most important thing to realize about Silver. He is a ‘villain’ - and again I use the term loosely because he is ONLY a ‘villain’ because our protagonist’s stories are set in opposition to his - because he will always put himself above the grander goal.

We see this in Black Sails, and we see this in Treasure Island. John Silver betrays Jim even though he feels conflicted about it. It isn’t until the very end, until Silver sees once again the same opportunity flash before his eyes where someone he loves is in danger and he cannot live with their death, that the treasure itself becomes unimportant again. Black Sails does an incredible job of giving us an antagonist whose defining trait is that he cannot see himself being meaningful in any way that matters.

Silver ends up destroying just about every relationship he has because of this inability. Time and again when he is faced with an opportunity for growth that comes with hard decisions, he chooses to destroy himself. Because it is easy.

It is easy to destroy the thing you do not care about, it is easy to destroy yourself if you don't value yourself. To call it winning because at least you are still alive and the things you’ve had to sacrifice are merely unimportant - inconsequential. But thinking like that hurts not only ourselves, but others too.

And it is not that Silver puts himself first, plenty of other characters do that as well - Miranda, Jack, Max. It is the fact that Silver must deny himself in the process that makes him the villain not just in Black Sails, but in his own story. And THAT is the origins of his supervillain story. That he is, in fact, his own.

#black sails #john silver #milos black sails meta #black sails discourse #black sails meta #we'll see how this goes over lmao anyway CATCH ME ALWAYS SAYING THAT THE WHOLE POINT IS THAT SILVERS INABILITY TO CENTER HIMSELF #/MAKES HIM THE VILLAIN/ AND THATS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL #long post

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argyrocratie · 4 years

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1. For scholars, I’m always interested if there were formative life experiences which led them to pursue their specific field of study. Were there any events or figures which led you to research collaboration and translation between Japanese and Russian Anarchists?

Your question about life experiences is an interesting one. Our memories of life experiences often lead us unconsciously to (re)examine our world in a particular way. We are usually unable and unwilling to recognize this tendency, so we create narratives that allow us to live within such invented narratives. We tell stories that conveniently makes sense afterward, and which continue to change over time as we ourselves change. Our autobiographical narratives would appear to be the most accurate, but they are possibly the most inaccurate form of narrative. We’re all very good at pretending as if we know what led to what… We’re natural storytellers for our own psychological well-being. I guess our death-bound subjectivity leads to such creativity. So to respond honestly to your question, ‘I do not know’ is probably the most accurate answer.

Having said that, I imagine that my interest in Russia and Japan may have had something to do with my unhappiness with formal schooling in Japan back in the 1980’s when I grew up. I have almost no memories of my school life in Japan – it’s like a big blank in my mind, as if it had never happened, probably because I hated it. It became stronger as elementary school progressed. I still remember clearly when I asked in Year 7, which is when children began studying English as a requirement, why we were studying only one foreign language and why that had to be English. I failed to understand why English language should have so much power over us. The teacher answered that that’s the language required to get into high school. I responded, ‘If I don’t go to high school, then I don’t need to learn it?’ His response was that I was a bad influence on my classmates. I was asked to leave the classroom and stand outside. I got beat up by the teachers and had to stand outside the classroom, but none of this served to help me understand – in fact just the opposite.

I began to realize that the problem was too large to solve in one classroom. Of course I threw away my English texts at the time. My schoolmates came to me with admiration and reverence for what I said and did – they agreed with me — yet they themselves did and changed nothing, fearful of saying anything and doing anything. It was as if nothing happened. The best students academically were the wisest, as they knew how to do well in such a system.

That was the pattern of my everyday school years. So I quit and became a school dropout, drinking by myself in the park from the morning, while my peers were preparing for their exams. My confrontation with modern state education had started much earlier, almost as soon as I was asked to go to school, but I won’t go on about that here. This sort of experience, and countless more, probably influenced how I saw the world, and played a part in what I wrote decades later. I was quite seriously concerned about that country’s future.

My early interest in Esperanto language (not that I studied it then) had something to do with this, for example, in that Esperanto is a kind of linguistic solution to all sorts of discrimination.

My interest in Russia was formed in this same way, because Russia was always so hidden in Japanese education. In Japan they never talked about the Soviet Union in school back then, as if it did not exist, or as if it were something bad and scary to talk about. If English had celebrity status, Russian was the opposite. So I ended up doing my undergraduate education in Russia.

Similarly, the military in Japan is always hidden from public sight and scrutiny. ‘The military does not exist in Japan,’ they used to say. So I became interested in military affairs precisely because of that. Of course, the requirement to study English has a lot to do with a longer and broader global history and, more immediately, Japan’s defeat in the Asia-Pacific war. This intertwining of the hidden presence of the Japanese military with the all pervasiveness of English language probably also had something to do with my becoming a cadet at a military university in the US, where I trained in military affairs while learning Chinese and Russian languages— remnants of the Cold War. This university possessed a highly rated Russian language program, including the best summer Russian program at the time. I ended up representing the US military school in the Russian/Soviet city of Tula, a military industrial complex that had just opened to foreigners the year I came. So I was ‘the first foreigner from the West’ (as Russians used to labeled me then) to enter that city since it was closed during the Soviet period.

Funnily enough, nearby Tula is also the Russian writer Lev Tolstoi’s estate home. I first encountered Tolstoi, who was to become an important part of my book, while I was living in Tula as an undergraduate. But it was not through the front gate of the Tolstoi Museum that I encountered him, but through a back way, when my Russian friends and I went to ‘gulyat’, walk around aimlessly to smoke and joke, to rest, or to swim in the same pond that Tolstoi used to swim in. The water looked filthy, smelly and green, but nevertheless… That was my first real encounter with Tolstoi – imagining him swimming in that pond on the estate neighboring the city that decades later would become a Soviet military industrial complex. When we did go to the Tolstoi house and museum for no particular reason, I did notice that his house had preserved a surprising number of books and letters in Japanese, which made me curious. Also, I realized then that the microbiologist Ilya Mechnikov and other scientists befriended him, despite his embrace of a pastoral, simple life of manual labor. I became curious about these people who were from such different backgrounds and professions, and yet appeared to be networked in multiple ways to one another, directly or indirectly. So yes, my curiosity was there then. But frankly, at that time, just to make my body move was tiring at the end of the Soviet regime. Especially being the first foreigner ‘from the West’ as a first-year undergraduate, without any family or friend connections, with endless shortages of everything, my primary focus was finding food to survive however I could — not scholarship.

Before my university studies, I had also become homeless for a good while in a number of countries. While I slept on the street, I was still holding on to my 9th-year school completion certificate as if that was going to help me. But quite the contrary, the certificate was of no value at all. I didn’t realize it then. While I slept on the street, I had many encounters with other homeless, as well as certain ‘tribes’ of outcastes (whether ethnic, racial, immigrant, social, intellectual or otherwise) in various countries. In the US, some of these ‘teachers’, as I used to consider them, were often the disposable and hurting veterans of America’s various wars. Some of them told me about America’s de-institutionalization policy, which released patients, many of whom were vets, from mental and other hospitals onto the streets. I am not an Americanist or sociologist and have no idea what led to all this homelessness among folks with war injuries in both mind and body. I have no idea if what they told me was true either. This type of experience, nevertheless, also helped lead to my interest in the problem of seeing like a state, not only in Japan, but internationally, creating a global if not transnational ‘underground’ world. On the streets of New Zealand, I encountered people of various ethnic and national backgrounds. I was wanted to learn more about what tied certain Maoris to the Malaysians, and Indians to others underground, with various ethnic and religious backgrounds, who made themselves invisible and escaped such national labels.

Ultimately, while homeless, I started speaking to God without an ‘o’ — not ‘God’ as a historical artifice, in the narrative sense, but Gxd without Being, without church, Bible, preacher, etc. It was just me and Gxd, always and everywhere, in an intimate relationship. I had lost utterance being alone there. I didn’t want to be a part of capitalist modernity (I didn’t call it as such then, it was more like ‘the money-centered empty culture of post-war Japan’ or some such expression I had), but to avoid being part of it had made me homeless. There was no one other than myself to justify my derailment. I felt then that if no one followed me, even if they agreed with me, then at least I should act alone. When you have no one else to talk to on the street, you naturally develop a conversation with Gxd about right and wrong. Without that experience, I probably couldn’t have thought about ‘anarchist religion’, a term that I invented, then discovered in historical reality, as a term to make sense of what was in fact there. Then I had to make sense of the space-time that had necessitated such an idea.

So this might have been an influence on my interests. It probably led me to be curious about the history of thought and practices that overturned the existing culture. My skepticism about any institutionalized knowledge that was in the interest of the state within the rigid departmentalization of modern institutions, and the accompanying politics of knowledge, all made me want to think outside them. Applying that to modern Japanese history many years later has at least partly led me to disclose anarchist modernity as a major cultural and intellectual current in Japan. All this is in hindsight of course. Until you asked me, I hadn’t thought about such links. But my attempt to create new approaches to study the history of modern Japan outside the fold of ‘West’-, Soviet- or Japan-centric historicity to make sense of the intellectual phenomena captured in my book, in hindsight had something to do with some of these ‘life experiences’.

(...)

#russia #japan #sho konishi #anarchism #long post

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theramseyloft · 5 years

Text

Not Birds, but

Guys, I could use some help.

The man who has spent the last year doing his absolute DAMNEDEST to help me restore something like healthy human function, and with whom I have made HUGE strides in breaking down and getting around my maladaptive behavior patterns, is about to be living out of his van.

I have been able to help out with gas and repair and prep money here and there, but the longer a person is homeless, the harder it is to be not-that.

My family and I are helping them look for housing and work down here because of the low cost of living.

They have asked family and other friends for help, but they have either been unable or unwilling.

I will be linking their paypal, and would really apreciate any support any one is capable of giving.

Trigger warnings past this point for... severe, prolonged abuse.

I am not generally in the habit of advertizing my struggles with ADHD, ASD, PTSD, and depression.

I highly value my privacy, fearing consequences that a lot of you have probably experienced first hand.

As soon as being any shade of mentally ill becomes known, people treat you differently.

Many disregard what you have to say under the assumption that you may not be in full control of your mental faculties at any given time (and can, thus, never be assumed to be, so are assumed to never be)

Well meaning people trying to make things easier for you are more likely to restrict or undermine your agency than actually help you more successfully maintain it.

People who are not well meaning will intentionally undermine your agency under the guise of protecting you from yourself, most often by gaslighting you into second guessing your memory and perception.

I have talked about the things Ankhou Assists me with.

Under severe enough duress, I go into a full catatonic shut down, where I may or may not be aware of people talking to me.

Ankhou is good enough at his job that he's all I need to either prevent or break out of a general shut down, but there are other degrees of that that require therapy involving another human.

I was literally raised by a megalomaniacal southern preacher.

Who has literally described his parenting meathods as performed in such a way that "God himself couldn't say I was wrong."

In a church where women are very much their father's property, until they become their husband's property.

Where women and children who are abused must have done something to deserve it.

I was literally raised and trained to be a perfect stereotypical 50s house wife, and rented out as a live in servant to one of the ladies from the church.

What Daddy says goes, and I was literally not allowed to express being upset at him.

Not for trivial things like tv time being interrupted, either.

I was, while in college, held down by the neck to have my face scoured bloody by a bleach soaked brillo pad...

Because I had acne.

No remorse was expressed for bloodying and chemical burning my face. All that was said was "Maybe next time you'll do it (wash my face) right, and won't make us do this again."

One of their favorite punishments for things like bad grades was to either kill my pets, or make me do it.

I was forced to put week old baby mice and their mother in a fire ant's nest for wasting my tuition by struggling with classes.

After being punished, I had to tell him, in my own words so he'd know I wasn't just parroting it back to him, why I deserved what ever punishment I had recieved, and how it was just, fair, and in fact lenient.

I could express remorse for what I'd done, but being too sad got me punished for being manipulative, and letting any hint of anger show on my face got me (more specifically pets that I realized later that I was allowed to have specifically so that there would always be something to threaten when I stopped caring what happened to me enough) punished more severely, and all lines of outside comunication severed.

The only response that made punishment stop or had any hope of lessening its severity was quiet, genuine agreement.

On top of that, I was prevented from eating at home (for existing as a fat woman) for literally two years.

I survived by eating meals at work, on the days I could get work, foraging, and eating with my now-husband's family on weekends when I visited.

We got married in a hell of a hurry when I got to the point that I could no longer hide that I was malnourished to the point of struggling to physically function, because I was literally afraid that I would die if I stayed any longer.

My lifetime of abuse was very specifically targeted: systematically breaking down my ability to even process that the way I was being treated was abusive, and literally stripping my ability to speak or act in or even consider my own defense.

I learned to dismiss words and read tone of voice and body language like a dog, because the words did not line up with the actions of my abusers.

Eventually, words came to have so little reliable meaning that I struggled to process them at all.

I read social dynamics and pick up on the subtlest hints of stress in tone and behavior because I adapted to maybe having SECONDS to diffuse enough tension to avoid being blown up at. (And either being whipped with a switch, or a living thing in my care killed either quickly or slowly)

I still physically cannot speak a thought that I have any reason to expect to be any shade of contentious.

My throat closes on the words, my tongue won't move, my jaw sets, and if I try to speak through that, I lose access to what amounts to my internal language processor.

I can write it, usually, but under the worst circumstances, my hands shake so hard I physically can't manage to pen or sometimes even type.

My intrusive thoughts are deafeningly loud and viciously hateful, but I struggle to express them to ask for help dealing with them, because they are thoughts I am Not Supposed To Have, and thus physically cannot speak.

You can imagine, I hope, a bit of the exhausting hell that makes attempting to maintain open comunication with other humans.

The change in environment has done a world of good, but I still was not equipped to actually analyze, confront, and find ways to defuse or work around my bizarre mine field of hair trigger defense mechanisms.

Benny's linguistic orientation equipped him very well to help me break down and work around my intrusive thoughts and maladaptive defense mechanisms, and if it has not been his top priority to help me through that, he's sure made it feel like it was by being there for me to practice and unpack with every day that rolled since we met.

We have struggled together through the complications of the PTSD and Depression that severe, prolonged abuse piles on top of our pre-existing mental conditions, and both made huge strides towards improving our mental health enough to function more like mentally sound adult humans.

His safety means the world to me, and there is only so much I can do alone.

If you are able, please consider donating to their Ko-fi:

http://twizzlertrolls.tumblr.com/post/182443269513/buy-vaporwitchcraft-a-coffee

Thank you.

#abuse mention

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independence1776 · 5 years

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Master and Apprentice by Claudia Gray review

This is a bit of a coincidence with my posting this review today, but it's certainly apropos: twenty years ago today, The Phantom Menace had its US theatrical release.

First off, this is not an unbiased review. It's about as biased as you can get for two reasons:

I wholeheartedly love the Jedi Order.

I've had a crush on Qui-Gon for twenty years.

That said, on to the review. Cut for serious spoilers. Possibly a bit more on the meta side in parts than outright book review.

My overall thoughts: it's a solid, enjoyable book. I have a few minor quibbles with it and two major ones (one out-of-universe, one in-universe), but it's good enough I'll likely buy it when it's released in paperback. So of course, the quibbles take up more room than the good things. *rolls eyes at self*

Good Things

~ The characterization of Qui-Gon is excellent: he's the perfect mix of "that makes sense" and "I want to shake some sense into him."

~ Obi-Wan is bit less so, though I do think he's more or less in line with how he is in TPM.

~ Jedi Temple worldbuilding: gardens, mediation rooms, a meditation path/maze, aquatic levels, areas specifically for Padawans with no Masters allowed (which likely means there are Master-only areas), everyone not living in the creche has their own room, etc. And the best thing: it's another nail in the coffin of the Legends Jedi Apprentice books where if you don't have a Master by age thirteen, you're kicked out of the Order. This book explicitly says that thirteen is young to become a Padawan. (These details are, uh, a significant factor in why I want the book. I did mention I love the Jedi, didn't I? :P)

~ The Jedi Council asks Qui-Gon to join it specifically because they want his unorthodox viewpoint.

~ Dooku left the Jedi years before Qui-Gon died! No one knows why, either. But he was already starting to fall while he was training Qui-Gon; he's heavily implied to use Force lightning at one point (as in: the only reason I can't say states is that Qui-Gon didn't see the Force lightning itself).

~ The main plot is an action-adventure plot that probably a little more convoluted than it needs to be given the climax and resolution could easily have been another chapter, but the book seemed to run out of page room first. The middle drags a little, too. Overall, that aspect makes me go: "Self, you're never going to be hired to write a Star Wars novel; you just can't manage action/adventure plots of any length."

The subplot is not as much fun; it's very much a miscommunication novel where people don't make the effort to talk to each other even though they know there are communication problems. On the other hand, that makes complete sense given how those two do and don't communicate in TPM, so clear communication would have been somewhat out of character to me.

~ I really like Rael Averross and want to see more of him. He's a great example of a somewhat non-traditional Jedi… and how coming late into the Order (he was five) can be a problem. And it's not like the Jedi don't try to help him adjust; the text says they made leniencies for him but he was determined to stand out.

Minor Quibbles

~ There were a couple of worldbuilding details that make no sense if you spend more time thinking about them than on a surface level. One of these is that it doesn't seem that it's standard practice to teach Jedi younglings how to swim! This despite 1) their missions drop the Jedi all over the galaxy in all environments and 2) this book establishes that there are aquatic levels in the Temple for amphibious/aquatic species.

~ My quibble with Obi-Wan's characterization is that the book makes a point of showing over and over how much he loves flying… until the very end when a bad experience with an autopiloted ship turns him off flying. That makes no sense given that he thinks droids should be pilots. It feels a bit like the author tossed in the "loves flying" angle as a deliberate twist on expectations without doing the work to support it.

~ Prophecies… I roll my eyes at them in general. I knew it was a factor in the book because Qui-Gon (and the blurb), but that element was not much to my taste overall. Welcome to one of the reasons I kept wanting to shake Qui-Gon.

~ The male secondary lead character is very much of a "logic wins the day; emotion is bad" type who gets the girl after he realized emotions are a good thing when her capture makes him confront his feelings for her. Tiresome trope at best. I know there are parallels between him and Rael (Pax was raised by protocol droids from the age of five, which is why he is how he is; that's the age Rael entered the Order and had problems because of it), but Pax was simply annoying.

~ The climax of the book is a little muddled, not in the action sense, but the thematic sense. And why ties into what I'll rant-meta about below. It also wraps up in a couple of pages of "hey, actually, due to XYZ, everything turns out okay after all" kind of storytelling that I'm growing more and more annoyed by.

Major Quibbles

Okay, so here comes the meta.

~ Quibble 1: the book takes place quite a few years before TPM, when Obi-Wan is seventeen. Apart from a thematic connection of prophecy aka Anakin the Chosen One, there is no reason the epilogue should be set moments before Qui-Gon's funeral in TPM. This wouldn't bother me so much except that it might be the beginning of a pattern; the Padmé-and-handmaidens YA novel Queen's Shadow epilogue is set after Padmé's funeral despite the story itself ending after her first year in the Senate.

Either one on its own would have been an "okay, this is how you chose to end the story" moment. Together, they become, "Actually, forget about a happy ending; we have to remind you these characters are dead." That's… not what I want from EU novels set years before the characters die. Can we not have moments of triumph untainted?

~ Quibble 2: Until now, what I've read of the new EU was pretty consistent in avoiding the attachment = love misinterpretation of the Jedi's "no attachment" rule. And I am flatly sure that this is a misinterpretation.

Reason 1: George Lucas explicitly stated that attachment is not love; that love is fine for a Jedi; it's obsession that's the problem. Also that Jedi aren't celibate, which this novel also contradicts. I know I'm in a minority when it comes to word-of-god stuff (especially because I don't enjoy actor/director/whatever interviews and behind-the-scenes material so don't watch or pay attention to it outside of this), but I come from a fandom where word-of-god and canon-compliance/knowledge is important. In this instance, I do think what Lucas says about the Jedi, as their original creator, is vital to understanding them. I just wish he'd been a better scriptwriter so this distinction between attachment and love would have been clear in the movies.

Reason 2: The Prequel Trilogy itself shows Jedi caring for each other (when Qui-Gon is dying and Obi-Wan is really emotional), Obi-Wan telling Anakin that he considers Anakin to be his brother and that he loves him (end of Mustafar battle), and those are just the first two scenes off the top of my head. Plus, there's Luke redeeming Vader through love. Caring and love are not attachment.

(Also, what would that mean for Kanan/Hera in Rebels S4? Kanan is a Jedi. If attachment was love, he wouldn't have been in a relationship with Hera. But he was able to put others above his life despite that he would have rather lived and that's what a healthy relationship is for a Jedi, not putting his own desires first. The opposite is why Anakin fell.)

But this confusion about attachment/love is why the climax is muddled: it really only makes sense viewed through that prism. Yes, Rael loved Fanry… but that wasn't his problem. His problem was his attachment to his belief that he knew Fanry and was working for her when her own desires (bad ones, as it happens) were actually quite different; Rael was unwilling to see what he didn't want to.

In Conclusion

Despite the flaws, this novel is in my top three new EU books; the other two are Star Wars: Propaganda and A New Dawn. It's definitely the top EU novel I've read so far. I love being able to see Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan again.

#star wars #books #jedi #master and apprentice #spoilers #meta

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getyourblisson · 5 years

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A Look At February 2019

February is normally a month where we tend to thrive and start to see some successes in our lives. It is a time where wisdom in motion unfolds in breaking through the tests and challenges we have been facing. However, this year seems to only partially be supporting that. This year February is unfolding as a HUGE learning experience for us.

People are still going to be looking for timeless wisdom as a guiding light. However, they are also, going to be looking for mentors and guides. Some will naturally find themselves in this position; and others will be seeking it out. It is important that with the 2019 energy patterns present that we really look closely at those that we work with; and that say they want to work with us.

A true mentor does not push you, decide for you, or tell you what is best for you. They do not demand major sacrifices, or place you in a position of being “less than” at any point; it is more about taking a journey with you both learning together. This month is likely to see a huge rise in false gurus and teachers; and so it is best to perhaps, even simply gather information and make your choice next month. A real guru will not tell you that you have to decide now; and will have a sliding scale or reasonable payment options, and many will not charge.

When we find the real mentors in the world, they will work with you because of what they see in you. While they may not require a financial payment, what they will require will be honesty and integrity; and that will never be used against you or in an abusive way. I encourage you to question any guru that uses phrases like “this is in your best interest” or “I am saying/doing this because it will help you”. Do not let their appeals to your ego suck you in; because they can be very good salesmen just by throwing a few terms around here and there. No true mentor will hold you in fear in any way.

The first 2 ½ weeks of the month finds many people feeling conflicts between the soul-self and the material world. It will be quite evident where we are not working in alignment; mostly likely that will show itself in our jobs or work. This is because often times we are working somewhere for money and not because it is aligned with who we are or actually fulfills us beyond material things.

During this time it can be easy to feel dis-heartened, and we may feel too restricted to follow our dreams or heart’s desires. The key is to not buy into this lie. The challenge is that there is a tendency to lash out or rebel against what we feel is restricting us. A strong sense of failure can surface if we choose to buy into these lies.

A key to dealing with this is to provide some space between those that seek to squash your dreams. It will be important that you honor some time in every day for soul nourishing; giving yourself a quite space to be still in, or a peaceful setting that is soothing and calming. No matter what the material world is offering it is important to find a way to do this. It can be a walk, a yoga class, meditation, simply taking time to breathe, sitting and watching the night sky or a sunrise/sunset, or any number of things.

Globally we are likely to see some revolts and signs of revolution surface. The inner upheavals are seeking outward expression; especially if they have not been dealt with. As a result taking time to address our inner upheavals will go a long way in dealing with what can feel like a harsh cruel world void of spirit.

There is nothing wrong with indulging in some material pleasures at this time; the key is to make certain that you are not over-indulging. Ironically, when we take the time to enjoy things that indulge the earthly senses; it can be a great way to work with heavy material world energy. It can help ease tension and pressure, as long as you are not creating debt doing it. That being said staying focused on simple, cost effective ways to indulge your senses can bring a great balance to body, mind, and spirit.

The last 1 ½ weeks of the month finds a sense of balance getting restored a little. This is a time that favors doing a little socializing, working as part of a team or with others. It is a time where we may have the opportunity to shine a little or step up and take the lead on something.

We are likely to find at this time that success will happen where we have persevered in our own efforts and made responsible choices. A time where we start to see some results from our efforts. It can also be a time where we learn if others have swayed us off course; and learn where and with whom we are turning our power over to, by letting them influence our decisions.

It is best to make your own decisions because at this time, those with controlling tendencies and desires to obtain power are likely to use deception to gain followers and keep a sense of control. Again, give yourself some space and time to make your own decisions. Even if you value the opinion of others, or know they mean well; they may not be steering you in the direction that is best for you.

If someone in power is feeling threatened, we are likely to see them do what they can to silence those that they fear may threaten their position. If you find others restricting you at this time, realize that they are operating in fear; particularly a fear of exposing their shortcomings or unethical practices. You will do best to step back, observe, and let things take their own course at this time.

Speaking up can be very detrimental at this time; and create some very unfavorable results for everyone. Just observing and letting things take their course will most likely allow them to resolve themselves; as the person will expose their own hidden agendas, or fall by their own actions and not yours. Remember we are not here to bring others down; and sometimes when others are on a destructive path, it is important to step out of the way to avoid being hurt.

I provide the example of a hurricane for you here. A hurricane is a powerful force that is spinning basically out of control. You can run around and confront the hurricane and tell everyone that the hurricane is destroying everything; but it will not stop the hurricane from doing what it is doing. If you choose to stand in the path of the hurricane you will be destroyed with everything else in its path. However, if you step out of the way, you can avoid being harmed; and eventually the hurricane will settle down. The hurricane shows itself as destructive if you get out of the way; confronting it only makes it stronger and creates further damage.

I welcome you to consider what feels like timeless wisdom to you. Are there phrases that seem to apply to anything at any time?

I welcome you to explore what it means to be or have a mentor in your life. What type of relationship would you want this to be?

I welcome you to indulge your senses in cost effective ways.

I welcome you to explore making your own decisions without the input of others.

I welcome you to explore the power of observation and stepping out of the way.

Actions to focus on

From the 1st – 14th will be a great time for us to put into motion physical exercise programs or other health regimes for ourselves. How we take care of our body at this time can play a big role in the direction our health goes; as well as the success we experience in other areas of our lives. A healthy body generates health in other areas including finances and love. However, unhealthy choices at this time can also have greater detrimental health impacts as well. The more care you are giving to your body, the greater the flow in all areas of life; and the more you will generate “luck”.

From the 15th – 28th you may find yourself feeling physically challenged due to stress. It is important to not let go of the healthy patterns established earlier in the month. The code patterns here, find people feeling challenged in some way on the physical level. The key is to adjust your physical movement and health options to those things that will be easier on the body. For example, try choosing restorative yoga over running, focusing on the core muscles in the body, and eating foods that are very easy on the digestive system.

When the body is in stress, it has a very difficult time digesting food. Things that are more liquid based such as soups, yogurts, Probiotics, soft in texture will be better. Many times, the body will not even really need food; but simply needs to have extra rest.

Things that help the muscles relax will also be favored at this time. This may include a hot bath or shower, stretching, breathing, etc. Think peaceful and soothing in your choices.

I welcome you to take time to honor your body.

I welcome you to consider what a strong body and good health mean for you?

I welcome you to explore the interaction between good health and other areas of your life.

What to focus your thoughts on

From the 1st – 10th communications are favored, and this can be a great time to speak up about what is on your mind. This is a time for you to be heard. This time favors thinking about what is important to you, and what you would like to share with others. Thus, we will do best to talk about our thoughts and ideas; exploring how to put them in motion. I would say be careful of those that are unwilling to share at this time, as there may be hidden or known patterns of manipulation or control going on. Give your thoughts an outlet to manifest.

From the 11th – 28th it is easy to get into downward mental spirals. There is a tendency towards seeing the worst of things, and getting wrapped up in what isn’t working or feels “disastrous” to us. During this time we will do best to work with re-framing our thoughts; and being careful of who we spend time with. It will be important to not avoid the uncomfortable thoughts; but to also find those people and places that help you stay in a more positive mindset. Staying in a mindset of positive possibility can go a long way to seeing ourselves through, as can a positive friend.

Our mind is also greatly affected by what we are doing with our body. Since both mind and body are challenged at this time, it will be wise to take advantage of any time outside in the Sun that you possibly can; even if it is just for a few minutes. The nutrients, particularly vitamin D3, will be very important to keeping our mind and thoughts in a direction that supports us.

I welcome you to explore ways and opportunities to speak your mind and voice your opinion. How can this be done in non-confrontational ways?

I welcome you to be conscious of how people, places, and situations are influencing your thoughts.

I welcome you to pay attention to how your mind responds when you care for your body.

Nourishing The Soul

During this month the soul self really wants to soar. It will not want to be held back. That means that it is important for us to take time to make certain we spend time in those activities and environments that nourish us from within.

We have some very deep soul releasing opportunities right now, so anything that allows you to bring closure to old patterns, thoughts, and behaviors will be beneficial. Introspection will also be very beneficial at this time. While we can do major retreats to release anything that we feel is preventing us from living a soul filled life; we can also do simple things to connect and allow ourselves to let go of what is in conflict with the soul’s path.

I have found that it is simple things, and minimal doing that can often times be beneficial at these times. These are times of major transition, and sometimes rest (even if one is awake) in quiet peaceful settings can do more than major activities. This can be sitting and watching for signs that a new season is working its way in. It can be taking a slow and gentle walk. It can be breathing in the Sunrise. Our souls are craving release and freedom from what restrains us from living freely. The more we are active in that process the smoother the transition will be.

I welcome you to explore what inside of you feels like it needs to be released. How can you do this with a loving blessing?

I welcome you to honor some quiet moments of introspection.

I welcome you to engage in something simple that fills your heart.

The Code Journey ~ Jesse An Nichols George

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 6 years

Text

A premiere pattern?

In 6.01 Exile On Main St., we find Dean struggling with his new life in the suburbs, an environment completely alien compared to his life prior. He tries to fit in, but he is an outsider. He manages to play his role, and is genuinely good with Lisa and Ben, but those things are more of a testament to his adaptability and his caring nature combined to his long history of being a family person.

In 7.01 Meet The New Boss, the Leviathan return to earth after a very, very long time. Oh, this is going to be so much fun.

In 8.01 We Need To Talk About Kevin, Dean goes through another shift in environment, going from Purgatory to Earth again. While he is human, the experience in Purgatory has deeply affected him, although by 8.01 we still don’t know how and why exactly. He returns a changed person to a world where things are wrong - Sam isn’t acting like The Sam Winchester, Cas isn’t there...

In 9.01 I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here, the angels find themselves on earth, among humans, and are mostly unequipped and unwilling to adapt to the new environment, although they try. You were right, Castiel. With us together, I think I could learn to like it here, says Hael.

In 10.01 Black, the theme is further developed, especially though the angel Daniel’s words. Dropped unwillingly... unknowingly... into a strange land, a land that, as it turns out, celebrates the free, the individual. For the first time in thousands of years, I have choices. And with each choice... I begin to discover who I really am. Parallels abound in Carvertime, subtlety is for the weak.

In 11.01 Out Of The Darkness, Into The Fire, Amara, the most alien thing to creation, is released into the world. For now she is just a baby, but the premiere puts the basis for the character’s storyline of confronting God’s creation.

In 12.01 Keep Calm And Carry On, Mary founds herself in what feels like the future to her. Everything has changed, most notably her little children, and she has a hard time sliding into place in this new world.

In 13.01 Lost And Found, Jack, an uncanny unique creature partly human partly inhuman, starts confronting the world, and is perceived as... different. (And by the way, there’s no such thing as “weird.” Everyone’s normal in their own way.)

And now we are waiting for 14.01 Stranger In A Strange Land, a title that, more or less, could be applied to most season premieres of the show since the Gamble era. (I’d say that the premieres in the Kripke era follow more of a ‘thing is released back to earth’ pattern - Dean from the veil, the demons from hell, Dean from hell, Lucifer from hell).

Did this post really have a purpose? Not really, but I thought I’d point out the pattern. We always start the season with one or multiple strangers in a strange land. I wonder how much of the titles from the previous premieres also apply, in a way or another, to 14.01: Dean is in exile on ‘main street’, his own body. Michael is the new boss. (I guess the 8.01 title doesn’t apply, poor Kevin.) Michael decided to go to the other world because he expected to like it there...

Also, I’m expecting parallels between Demon Dean and Angel-Possessed Dean, but also between the Leviathan and Michael, and Amara and Michael (Michael is there supposedly to subjugate humanity+destroy this world, sounds familiar? I guess we can throw the BMoL here too, with their aim to subjugate hunters - paralleeels), but also between Jack and Michael (“new” creatures in the world they’ve just entered, in very different ways).

Thoughts?

#my spn thoughts #paratext #is the title of 14x01 really a spoiler #spn spoilers #spn 14x01 #spn

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two-halves-of-reylo · 6 years

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Submission for the "Fear" story challenge.

Hi Two-halves, this is my submission for the “Fear” story challenge, I hope you enjoy it, got a bit carried away, but had so much fun writing it!

* * * * *

Rey is gazing out of the grimy cockpit window, a million flashes cold-blue against smooth-black space, the freighter falls through tortured star trails. Gently directing the thrusters, she shoots the Falcon out of light speed.

As a roll of cannon fire, dull hums in her ears, she takes in the scene before her. Above, below and around appear hundreds of razor sharp metal fragments flecked with red light, The First Order’s fleet, at full battle strength.

Seeing those greasy grey destroyers hanging motionless in space is in stark contrast to the last time she’d seen such vessels slumbering atop mountains of Jackku sand. Skeletal forms sinking into tidal dust basins, crumbling slowly into memory. She knows how easy they are to dismantle, how fragile and delicate they become. After all, she’s cannibalized most of them, flown this junky old freighter through one of them, swatted Tie fighters against them as if they were insignificant biting gnats.

But here, hanging like so many monstrous bats in clean blue space, is their natural habitat. Feeling her presence is uncomfortably conspicuous, Rey checks the Falcon’s alarms for signs of reaction from the fleet, her fraught expression softening as the monitor shows negative.

This confrontation is inevitable, Rey’s bound to this course and ready to face him, she’s braced to meet any trials which lie ahead, resist attempts to break her resolve.

Rey’s standing atop a dune crest near Kelvin Ridge, sinking dust seas at her back, drum sands to her left and right, only one way of escape. More exposed than on any other path through her life and frightened to tread it. An unexpected sudden timidity in her heart, a revulsion for the man’s she’s planning to save, pulls her attention from the fleet, disturbing the bird.

The little porg perches on her shoulder, wet nose nuzzles gently against her neck, brushing hair aside, the soft caress of its feathers bringing a glow to her cheeks. Rey imagines a touch, a reassuring caress, never experienced only dreamt of from her mother, or was it perhaps a lover? A tingling feeling in her fingers surprises her, that craving for closer contact. A thought more appropriate to the woman she is becoming.

What had she done, had she left Luke too soon? His steadfast determination to suppress his abilities is only serving to heighten her erratic behaviour. Rey’s a creature of habit, routine comforted. Its all been blasted away by the arrival of that seemingly harmless droid, sounding so frightened, looking so vulnerable, accepting her help so happily.

Luke, he needed and accepted no help from her feeble hands. He’s been a myth to her so long before she arrived on Ahch- To, the island she’d seen in her dreams, that imagined escape from terrible solitary existence on Jackku, conflicted by her longing to return to that seclusion and see a clean smooth sand horizon. Reassuring feelings of parents returning any day, soft fine sand between her toes, the unconfined cinnamon-orange sweep of open bled between herself and an enemy gave her time to prepare for their arrival, arm against their attack, an air carried acrid smell of burnt flint warning of landing thrusters.

The Porg feels growing fear and desperation, drops from her shoulder to the floor with a frightened screech.

“I’m fearful for myself, not Luke… and I fear so much for Re… Ben,” slamming her fists against the switch covered console.

She no longer wants or cares for Luke’s approval, realizing her fear is nothing in comparison to theirs, clinging to those lessons they’ve both unwilling taught. Rubbing her cold hands together to stop them shaking, she’s been bruised by their impact. Bending down, she picks the frightened Porg from the cockpit floor, strokes it reassuringly as it chirps and coos, her hands warming against it’s downy feathers.

“I don’t need anyone’s help, I can do this myself, if you’ve taught me at all Luke, it’s to rely on my own judgement, trust to that.”

The lesson Ben’s teaching her isn’t quite so straightforward.

Rey slips off her rain soaked clothes, the Porg now siting peacefully on a shelf watching her anxious movements as she dresses back into her repaired Jackku tunic.

“Why shake off what I am, I’ll choose my own path, and to hell with Fear!”

A feeling of inner calm elusive, she’s stepping into the escape pod, lightsaber in hand. That shard of gleaming metal, crystal hearted clean death, it no longer feels a burden to her palm but more familiar now, an extension of her arm, of her will. Just as eager is a sting of remembrance in a boastful mind that the last time she’d drawn it was in anger at the man she’d substituted for parents she needs so badly.

She has to admit that Luke also taught her that failure is inevitable, hubris folly, and more importantly what regret will do to a generous well meaning heart.

Giving Chewbacca a final message for Finn, she lays back smiling up at her friend, his shaggy head shakes in farewell. Swallowing in a dry throat Rey’s cold fingers grip the sabre tighter. A smooth forward motion and the pod exits the freighter, red-white flash, the Falcon falls back through the stars.

Suddenly a huge screech above pulls at every nerve fibre, sets Rey’s muscles trembling involuntarily. The two Tie fighters bearing down on her position, slipstream towards the largest, grandest ship of the fleet floating languidly below, filling the vacuum with a concentrated menace. Her innermost soul is screaming retreat, fall away, run for home as fast as you dare.

Don’t go to him, he wont help, cant help, will kill you if he can, or worse.

Persuade you to join him.

That thought is the most twisting teasing, enigmatic, beautiful idea. An opportunity to save the Resistance, bring about peace. A chance for power, the ability to control her life and answer to no one. She doesn’t want to admit that its appeal as a chance of companionship with someone who understands, who listens, who needs her help so fearfully is bringing colour to her cheeks.

A warning in Rey’s soul snuffs out the hope. Vanity, Luke’s vehement statement that it had been a Jedi weakness! Instead she’ll be secretive and quiescent, provoking and confrontational. To protect her soft well intentioned heart she’ll use any means at her disposal.

But to him, will she expose her innermost fears and weaken when pressured? Is it the fear of vanity that’s sending cold shots of adrenalin through her frame?

Her hands are cold.

Quiet calm is no release from the tension. But that another, not so far away on the edge of her awareness is also feeling as she does is a gleam of hope, made more poignant by the fact that he’s considered the First Order’s best hope for victory.

And for the Resistance.

A stifling blast of rocket smoke shrouds the craft as it lands in the gigantic hanger bay. Breathing in short gasps, exhilaration puts citrine shine in her eyes. Resolutely she turns those eyes towards the figure now standing gravely at the side of the Falcon’s escape pod.

* * * * *

Kylo Ren stares from behind the frigate’s control room glass. Angry green-blue streaked plasma fired against empty vacuum space, they hurry toward infinity. That tortured focused energy bolts unceasingly through his head, deep reverberations from the ship’s engines synchronize alongside his heart beat. Depressing a switch on the main communications console he calmly gives orders to two Tie fighters circling the ships main gun positions.

“Locate and form up alongside, deposit in the main hanger; OUT!”

Seeing a small red-white flash in the corner of his eye, he offhandedly discounts it as the fighters swoop to meet it, instead looks distractedly down at his hands, turns each over slowly, deliberately.

These heavy gloved hands are worn and ungentle. The hours spent on the combat practice floor are eons ago but still fresh in his mind. A small army of servo-motor guided training droids, lethal machine minds had perfected his every move, speeded up reaction times, built stamina, muscle. Attempted to focus those infamous Skywalker genetic talents.

Each day new dangers were imagined for him, exercises taught with a frantic urgency born of greed and pride. Increasing the threats to twist his intellect, building Ren’s mental powers. Afterwards he would sit comfortless in stone silent rooms, digesting his master’s sharp stinging lessons on how to dominate, how to threaten, how to win.

It’s made Kylo Ren what he wants and needs to be, undaunted, confident and indefatigable, just like his grandfather.

Those long drawn out hours of Snoke’s rhetoric have made him boastful and thoughtless, ignorant to the real dangers in his world. He’s not the master of his own actions, it’s turned him into a mocking puppet for higher minds. A useful dangerous toy, discarded at the first sign of insubordination.

Intense training has left him mentally unprotected. Snoke didn’t give enough thought to vulnerability, only as a weakness to be exploited. Body fatigued by the constant exercises never ending, Ren’s mind reeling from the influx of information, brief periods of rest had taught a lesson only he could take the credit for.

How to build up unstable deep rooted anger.

But he’d failed miserably, defeated by a woman as green in The Force as the Takodanan trees, he feared that weakness would rise in him again. The soft sentiment which had led to his grandfather’s demise. His lightsaber wound aches with remembered pain, through gritted teeth he watches a new barrage of fire hit the back of the rebel cruiser.

Kylo Ren knows instinctively that his volatility can be used as a weapon, enemies never aware of your next move, unable to detect patterns of behaviour which could be exploited. Arrogance fuels that belief till his pale face glows crimson. Snoke’s training gave no advice for periods of inactivity, how to compose one’s thoughts, conserve your energy, plan your attack.

Kylo Ren’s managed that important lesson on his own.

This waiting is punishing, memories rise behind those dark half-closed eyes. Rey, dare he speak the name? That young brazenly confident brat had opposed his authority. Some scruffy young scrapper from a dustbin planet, dared face HIM down! He’d smashed droids into shards of white hot steel for beeping too haughtily, sprayed dripping metal from his lightsaber at subordinates reporting mission failures.

But here in Ren’s minds eye she stands, dishevelled, rain soaked and did he detect, slightly amused? A hint of sea salt vapour drifted from her hair, no doubt driven off by heat generated by hostile memories of the forest on Star Killer Base.

He remembers the forest somewhat differently. Her slash of blue grates along his red crackle glow, driving snow cooling his face, catching in his hair, the look of depth in Rey’s eyes, finally the realization of her strength as the planet rents itself apart. His terror as she’d almost split his torso down the centre, excruciating pain and then worse.

She’d abandoned him.

Had she taken pity, or was it just luck that the chasm had opened up that instant? Would Rey have killed him in revenge for Han? This is a feeling Ben understands only too well, but to watch it take possession of Rey was a shock, to see his feelings in another’s face a revelation.

He knew her strength could be almost equal to his and had not bargained for this eventuality. The feeling he could not be defeated was in itself a weakness, the deep loneliness it brought, no anger would relieve that sorrow, damp fear of failure, small hope of success. Exciting possibilities may remain however, a companion who could understand, who experienced the same pains, doubts and anger.

Ren’s expending no small amount of effort holding back that passionate thought! It’s tempting to betray all the cold tortures Snoke could produce for one more stolen force connection. Wasting hour upon hour of worthwhile teaching, revelling in the delicious thought of watching a pair of confused but determined eyes under angry brows, directed at him alone.

“I’m waiting patiently for her”

A greedy calculation darts through Ren’s callous mind. No thoughts for her, just about her. No feelings of concern, care or sharing, just the cold resolution to dominate. Snoke’s lessons were hard to put down.

His eyes are full of tears. That fearless control he boasts of, its starting to falter. Snoke’s guidance is of no use to him now, the glass around his heart is shattering.

“Its all Rey’s fault!” His shout returning to a whisper as the realization that the frigate captain is watching him bemusedly from under his cap.

Ben Solo wonders how long this new weakness can be concealed from his master. If that white hot fear of failure could be the best defence?

“I’ll use any means possible to protect myself” The fault in his reasoning starts to glow a bright idea.

“Can I use it to protect us both?”

A comforting warmth extends from Ben’s right hand and brushes gently up the arm to his shoulder. Shaking that hand violently, displacing the feeling, Ren drowns it in failure, submerges in fear, dark and deeper still, generates a new shield against his enemy.

Whoever that was now.

The frigate captain has been keeping a safe distance, experience taught him to tread carefully with Snoke’s pet Jedi. He takes a step closer.

“Small craft arriving main hangar, three minutes, Guard intercept and detain prisoner”

Ben, momentarily shaken from his reverie, starts to turn towards the turbo lift.

“Sir, orders?”

Turns to the captain, chops off two words;

“Maintain pursuit”

And steps into the lift.

It’s too cool and bright in here, he closes his eyes and the vibration of distant cannon fire destroys any hope of peace. The realization that Rey only pities him makes his head spin, putting the sensation down to the lifts descent he checks his lightsaber is on his belt.

She’s voluntarily flying into the flagship of the First Order to face him, it bolsters Ben Solo’s grim resolve and turns Kylo Ren as pale as death.

A decision’s been made, a sudden instinct, and all these weeks of torment have been for nothing. Wakeful nights alone and days spent under the repair droids sutures, irrelevant.

Ben knows no amount of force induced confidence is going to make this encounter easy. It’s such a small window for success, that spark of hope in the dark is better than… he feels the lift slowing. Hope was his mother’s mantra. Hope in the dark, belief in the light. He pulls his fingers through unkempt hair, takes a deep breath. Holds it.

Walking stiffly toward the hangar guard group, Ben clenches his fists. Just for a moment he felt her stroking his hair, Leia’s eyes full of concern as his uncle guided him toward the transport to take him away all that time ago. The feeling of rejection smoky black between him and Han, Luke’s calming assurances that he could help using the skills he’d gained from Yoda and Kenobi.

It wasn’t enough to harness Ben’s conflicted soul.

He’s leaving himself accessible to thoughts inspired by the lesson Rey had unwillingly taught him. Kylo Ren crushes her lesson, chokes the life from it, drains the hope suffocates her, destroys, compounds his hate.

One final step and Ben Solo stands over a remnant of his father’s freighter. Swallowing useless hope, he stands composed, two guards behind waiting for the landing jets to clear. Revealing hazel eyes full of fearful hope staring straight back up at him.

Lots of fun from Morby….. April 21st 2018

#reyloweeklychallenge #signal boost!!#submission #long post #longpost

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anathemanonymous · 3 years

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Spilling it in the first person: truths I need to accept

Well, it's not going well. I feel like I am not moving forward,but backward. I held myself back by trying to do the right thing.

I gave you the whole house in trade for my freedom. There was no end date on the agreement. It simply stated you would get the property and all the responsibility of the associated bills. It also stated you would agree to hold me harmless.

Well, that didnt happen.

I'm still stuck 4 years after leaving. The attorney told me not to pay off the foreclosure but I did. Twice. I stopped the process of filing contempt in August. She was livid. She offered me the option to have you removed from the house and I could keep it. Well, I had just signed the apt lease. A one year contract. How was I supposed to afford two house payments? I didn't want that responsibility. I left the house to prove I wasnt married to this man for the money. He refused to leave. So I did.

Both our names remain on the title. Bank cant take me off. You refuse to sell. You cannot afford to refinance.

What are you trying to do here?

As I am being held in place by obligation you insist upon complaining about how it is my fault that you are suffering. How you are refusing to cooperate. Refuse to work or pay bills. Refuse to accept that I left. Refuse to reach out or grow in healthy ways. Refuse to stop drinking or doing drugs. Refuse to try to improve our shitty relationship. Refuse to reach out to your own child. Refuse to sell the house. Refuse to clean it. Trick me into calling off the attorney at the last foreclosure: you say you will pay me back the $5500 and we can fix up the house. I tell you how uneasy I feel about this deal. You tell me to trust you.

I clean and clean on my days off work and you sit and ridicule and drink. You tell me it's no rush. You literally have no money to fix it up. I have gone round and around with Fred at the agency to get him to agree to put the house on the market and how we need to sell to a qualified buyer. How to ensure no consequences from this home being doomed. How to do the right thing. How to honor the promises to the agency and to the bank. Its ridiculous how often I've triaged with your mother. How many phone calls and notes kept on the research of creating a plan to salvage the property and you.

And you. I have given you money. I have paid your debts. I have taken you to the doctor. I set you up for evaluation of ADHD. You cry about your health. You cant get off the couch. You cry about being broke, depressed with no reason to live. When I speak to you, you continue to put me down, to accuse me of never caring. You accuse me of malicious crimes against you for the past 16 years. You claim I just used you. My entire life was built around supporting you. You accuse me of going against you deliberately. You blame for your behaviors of rude comments and refusals to cooperate or participate in anything related to parenting or household chores or budgeting or my feelings. I was threatened by your recklessness. I was doomed to being overly responsible but got nothing but contempt in return.

There wasn't peace. There wasnt love. No support. Constant arguments and blow ups. Constant strife. Constant pain. Carrying your weight twice my size. Trying to rape me. Trying to negate me. Trying to minimize me. Criticizing every fucking thing I did or said or believed. Faking it in front of your friends and parents. Giving nothing but expecting me to provide for your every need on a whim. Needing help with your business books, spending hours only to be discredited and rejected. You put your shit first. You blocked my path with your messiness. You left it all up to me but gave me no credit, no control and no power. Then accuse me of doing the same to you. You ridiculed my hobbies, my goals, my dreams. You chose your friends over me. You drank to the point of black out every day. You stopped working. Your buisness partner abandoned you even after he stole from the business account, you kept him around. You kept giving him your share of our household bills instead of pay our bills. So I paid. You stole my tax returns for years. You were rude and inconsiderate toward how any of your shitty choices affected me and our family. You have withheld love and given only pain. You ignored my feelings and needs. And now you complain and claim to suffer worse than me?

What about me??

To top it off: after moving out and returning on a regular basis to check in with you even as you deliberately were harming me financially and emotionally...I get hate when I remove the loaded guns in the house bc you're suicidal from all the drugs and no sleep and not eating and not working and I worry and I feel sorry and I want to keep things normal so I see the mess and try not to do the cleaning, the yardwork.

I play with the dogs and feed them and you always leave when I arrive ...or start an argument until you chase me away.

After 4 years of being ridiculed and blamed....instead of being heard and validated.

I have to actually accept that you are openly and intentionally holding me hostage financially and emotionally. You admit it on text. Your mother claims you were just drinking and you didnt mean it. What will it take to justify my actions?

Its been 4 years of waiting on pins and needles. Of not breathing. Or being stuck. Not to mention the 7 years before I left the house. Trying to fix things.

Looking back, I've never received emotional support from you. Other than to stay away from my family.

I have a hard time accepting the fact that you didn't improve yourself when I left. You got worse. You stopped trying long before I left. And I hoped you would recognize how awful you'd become. I was risking a chance that you would change into a responsible adult. Learn to care for me in real ways. Appreciate me, quite frankly. I was looking for appreciation. Recognition. Acceptance. Acknowledgement. The elements of love.

I left because there was no love.

It was the right thing to do.

Unhealthy relationships are meant to fall apart.

Blame me or blame you. It doesn't matter. It takes two to have a relationship. It becomes one sided.

Wait. It was always one sided. I wanted to believe it was a mutual relationship. I dreamed it. I created the illusion of it. But it could not be felt. Bc it was a mirage. It only looked like something real. It felt empty. Like a shell. Like a home without a foundation. Ready to fall apart like a Hollywood studio prop.

I was lying to myself the whole time.

The only way out now is to tell the truth. To let shit fall apart by not adding to it. To stop putting in.

But it feels wrong to let my house go into foreclosure. It feels wrong to file with a lawyer. It feels so wrong to do nothing to help, on purpose. Yet it is the right way. Right? This world is absolutely ridiculous. Just fucking back breaking and disheartening. People are so viscous. Banks and lawyers. Without hearts. Empty motherfucking shells of humans.

I knew the truth but didn't want to face it. Denial is so powerful. It can change the way you see things. Or exclude what you do not want to see. Or feel.

I wanted to believe love could make my dream come true, become real. Make me real.

All the proof was in your actions. Fighting me every step of the way. Calling me crazy. You're right. It is crazy to live that way. I agree.

So if it's TRUE : then I have to accept the reality that you don't care about me. Either you cant, or you are just unwilling. You say you love me. But what does love mean? It seems you only care that I care for you. How much I can give and prove that I care. Prove by sacrificing my needs, time, money, energy.

Every fiber of my being is going against the fact that the only way out of this situation is divorce and foreclosure of my home. Abandoning you. Why does it feel unethical and immoral? Huge conflict within.

I tried to help you and to salvage my credit, I have spent over $15,000 to bail it out . ..because I'd already put so much into it that I want to keep on the same path. I dont want a different anonymous path. I want to stay where its familiar. But then again, why? I've never been happy on this path. From experience, moving on does not guarantee happiness either.

I'm standing my ground. I'm honoring my values of integrity and refusing to tolerate abuse and nonsense.

But yes it's hard to move on bc I am ever-wanting to keep convincing myself and the world ...proof of how mature and dedicated I am, of my own goodness, my own kindness, my own value.

If my value rests on a successful career in marriage then I have discredited myself. I have failed to be a quality product. Yikes.

..because I hid behind it, and I'd do anything to keep up the facade. I am afraid to be seen as alone, maybe. I am afraid to stand up against the abuse bc it means I have failed. That I am faulty. Not worthy. Maybe I asked for it. Or deserve it.

Shame is a terrible feeling.

By the virtue of which I choose to honor, I thereby become less valuable. I protected your reputation. I kept silent. I protected my own reputation as well. Now I am throwing it out the window. Breaking a promise to myself to never do that again. Yes, I have experienced this all before. Many times. Throughout my lifetime. I had to destroy my own identity.

Because I could pretend I belonged. I could pretend I had a healthy relationship and family. But the sacrifice was too much. And I was so off-balance. I was shut off. Closed down. Depressed. Sick.

You refused to lie for me. So I left. We dont have to keep pretending to play house. Maybe that disappointed me. You want to play cops and robbers. I refused. Lol. Whatever.

And maybe the ultimate cage I try to break free from is being forced to stay small, a repeating pattern from throughout my entire childhood. It is the shame I carry. The unworthy nature of my wounded inner child.

When confronted with opening up I remain skeptical and scared. I beat myself up. I feel rejected, disillusioned, hurt, betrayed, and I am ashamed of showing that I am being harmed. I am am afraid to speak up. When I do, I get shut down by you, your family, my attorney, the court, society.

This triple whammy has knocked me off my feet every time I try to stand up. I feel insulted by the slights of neighbors, the sounds of the outside world. I speak up against emotional manipulation and I feel the feather of rejection like a sledgehammer.

... I am accused of being crazy. I post on social media. I get very little support. The message I'm receiving is: your perception is inaccurate, we all have a human right to happiness and respect but you should be ashamed of exposing yourself like that. It makes you look vulnerable, it tarnishes our code of taboo subjects, think about your reputation, bc we as a society are not comfortable with displays of vulnerability. Call a hotline or something.

You know what? I dont need a fucking hotline. My counselor didnt even recognize me during our last phone session. Fuck this system. I'm on my own. And if I have to become more viscous and bitter to fit in, I prefer to stand alone.

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mustdang-100 · 7 years

Text

Shifting Perspectives - Ch. 4

Teru, Ritsu, and Shou's adventures in Keeping Your Friend/Brother Clueless About His Dad's Disappearance. Plus, Serizawa confronts his greatest challenge yet: teenage willpower.

Summary: How many espers does it take to rescue one abducted conman?

Months after the events of the World Domination arc, Reigen disappears sometime between leaving the office and after-work plans. Serizawa finds himself the unwilling leader of a bunch of former Claw members and a couple of stubborn teenagers, determined to get Reigen back.

Read on AO3 Ch.1|Ch.2|Ch.3|Ch.4 Tumblr Ch.1|Ch.2|Ch.3|Ch.4 - below|Ch.5

Some notes: Y’all should know that I adopted bakanohealthy’s headcanon that Teru & Reigen bond over plants with my whole soul, because I love the idea that Teru and Reigen share a hobby that gives Reigen an excuse to dad Teru. And THEN the blessing of the new omake chapter i.e. Reigen Creates Obvious and Elaborate Lies so that Teru Can Not Be Lonely caused me to screech in joy for at least an hour, and I gleefully used it as an excuse to EVEN FURTHER elaborate on Teru’s & Reigen’s relationship, and I am not sorry.

Teru well knew just how much Shigeo cared about his younger brother, but he still managed to be surprised by the lengths Ritsu could go to and get away with.

“Oh crap, sorry Nii-san – I meant the other blanket. The one with the black-and-white stripes? Because that one is… warmer. I think it’s in the hall closet upstairs somewhere,” Ritsu said in what Teru considered to be a far-too-innocent voice.

Perhaps Shigeo, holding out the green blanket he’d just brought down, thought so too. Or maybe it was the fact that this was the third and stupidest item he’d been sent to fetch yet that caused him to blink at Ritsu, slowly, with the merest hint of exasperation. But then he simply sighed, and turned to go back up the stairs.

“Fuck, you are shameless – you can get away with literally anything with him, can’t you,” Shou said in amazement as soon as Shigeo was out of earshot, unknowingly parroting Teru’s thoughts. Ritsu’s face took on an expression that was half-ashamed, half-defiant, and he opened his mouth to hiss something back. Teru tuned them both out, instead looking back down at Ritsu’s phone and the reason he kept sending Shigeo from the room.

Serizawa Today 3:47 PM We found the phone and his wallet, but no sign of him. It doesn’t look good. I need to know if Reigen’s had any run-ins with anyone lately at work when I haven’t been there? Someone who might have been angry enough to take him? Today 3:48 PM Think you could try and ask without letting Shigeo know that Reigen is missing? I’m still trying not to worry him yet. Today 3:49 PM Unless you can’t manage that, then you might have to tell him? Maybe we should just tell him. What do you think?

Teru’s stomach tightened; reading over the texts again, he found himself worried to a disquieting degree.

He hadn’t… quite realized how much he’d come to rely on Reigen’s presence, always there waiting at the Spirits & Such office. Reigen had gotten them all out of trouble on more than one occasion, and somehow learning that he didn’t actually have psychic powers had not diminished by one iota the feeling of safety he represented.

A memorable day of insect collecting and beach time over half a year ago had resulted in a pattern: when his own apartment got just a little too quiet, a little too lonely, Teru showed up at the office. Reigen pretended he had just been looking for some extra help, and found something for Teru to ‘work on’ for a few hours, chatting amiably with him in between clients. At first Teru had always checked to make sure Shigeo was there as well, but that had stopped as Shigeo didn’t work there as often anymore, while Teru still craved that feeling of safety, of belonging. And Reigen never seemed to mind the extra company.

That place, Reigen’s place, was a refuge. It had never crossed Teru's mind that that refuge could disappear, along with the person who had created it.

“We should tell Shigeo,” Shou said suddenly, leaning over to re-read the texts from Ritsu’s other side and jarring Teru from his thoughts. Shou had evidently abandoned his and Ritsu’s other argument to return to the more relevant one. “I said it already – it’s stupid not to.”

“And as I keep telling you, here’s no need. He’ll get really upset, for what is probably no reason,” Ritsu said stubbornly, still holding his ground.

Shou looked at him disbelievingly. Ritsu usually caved to whatever scheme Shou had decided to pull him into, eyes rolling but agreeable. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his brother seemed to be the one issue Ritsu wasn’t willing to back down on.

“Somebody dumped the guy’s phone and wallet – that’s not nothing! C’mon Ritsu, you’re being irrational,” Shou turned to look at Teru, who’d remained uncharacteristically quiet. “Tell him I’m right!”

Before Teru could respond, they all heard the soft thud of bare feet hitting stairs as Shigeo returned with the striped blanket. The three boys on the couch moved away from each other automatically, guilty. Ritsu spoke quickly.

“Ahhh, thanks, Nii-san! But, you know, I was just thinking… maybe a sweatshirt would just better? There’s a couple in my closet, if you don’t mind grabbing me one…?” Ritsu said, as upbeat as he ever sounded.

For someone so innately suspicious, Ritsu was really not a great liar. Shigeo looked at him in incredulity, and Teru wondered if this might be the final straw in his friend’s endless patience.

“Ritsu, it’s July.”

“Um, yeah, well…”

“It’s almost thirty-five degrees outside.”

“Well… the AC’s kinda chilly. Or… maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Shigeo’s irritation transformed instantly into concern, and he walked over to feel Ritsu’s forehead. He frowned slightly, the barest indentation between his brows. “You don’t feel warm, but then, I don’t always when I get colds.”

He paused for a moment, considering.

“Okay Ritsu, take this,” he tucked the blanket around Ritsu in a very older-brotherly fashion, and Teru couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. Shou was smirking a little as well, but Teru suspected that was more at Ritsu’s discomfort that was entirely of his own making – it was already quite warm in the room.

“I’ll go get you that sweatshirt.” Shigeo retraced his steps back up the stairs.

As soon as he left, Ritsu pushed the blanket away and looked at Teru inquisitively, still waiting for his input.

Truthfully, despite his own worries for Reigen, Teru was feeling conflicted about whether to inform Shigeo. Shigeo certainly deserved to know the truth, and an unfamiliar feeling of guilt squirmed in his gut at the idea of keeping something like this from him – the fact that Ritsu supported it so strongly made Teru feel more doubtful, not less.

And yet…

Shigeo did not like violence. Despite how often he was drawn into it, he really, truly hated it. And Teru knew he would likely feel obligated to engage with whomever had taken his mentor. In fact, knowing the almost familial relationship between the two of them, obligation would be the minimum. Shigeo would be scared, and hurt, and… and sad.

And that simply was not needed.

No; this was something that others could do for him. Something that Teru could do for him, something he could do to pay him back, and to pay Reigen back. Teru could help find Reigen, and retrieve him. Reigen would be back, safe and sound, and Shigeo would not have to experience the pain and fear of having someone he treated like family ripped away from him.

Teru didn’t mind Shigeo being angry at him, if he could prevent that.

Teru looked at Ritsu. “I think we should wait to tell him. At least for a while.” Shou immediately frowned at him, disappointed, while Ritsu seemed surprised but satisfied.

“However,” Teru continued, “That leaves us with the problem of how we are going to ask about any shady dealings Reigen might have had.”

Shou, sitting slouched with his arms crossed, suddenly perked up and grinned at Ritsu. Ritsu eyed him warily. “Oh no. I know that look.”

Shou grinned wider. “I have a plan.”

Ritsu sighed. “Shit. Yep, that’s the look. I’m not going to like this, am I?”

Shou’s laugh had a wicked edge.

***

“You know, Shigeo,” Teru said an hour later, taking advantage of a pause in their conversation as the four of them sat around the kitchen table, drinking the tea Shigeo had insisted on making for Ritsu. “We were talking earlier, about how Ritsu’s powers have really progressed in the past few months.”

“Yeah,” Shou said instantly, eager to set the plan in motion. “They’ve come a long way.”

“Oh,” Shigeo said, “Yeah, they really have.” He looked over at his brother fondly. “You must be so happy about that, Ritsu.”

Ritsu gave him a weak smile, but didn’t say anything.

“Well he’s been wanting to ask you about something,” Teru continued breezily. “Ritsu thinks he could benefit even further by consulting with a true expert in using psychic powers. He thinks that someone like Mr. Reigen would be perfect.”

Ritsu glared daggers at him, and Teru held a straight face with difficulty.

Ritsu had argued vehemently against Shou’s plan, pointing out its weak chain of logic, but when Teru asked him if he could think of anything better – only partially because he wanted to watch Ritsu internally combust – he’d been forced to capitulate.

They’d have to be careful; Teru was pretty sure Shigeo’s suspicion had already been roused once that day.

“Oh. Is that what you were talking about when you kept trying to get rid of me earlier?” Shigeo asked, his expression not perturbed in the slightest.

They all paused in surprise.

Apparently, he’d been more than just suspicious.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” Ritsu said, alarm finally pushing him into joining the conversation. “I just, wanted to get their opinions before I asked you.”

Shigeo hesitated.

“Ritsu, it’s really great of you to ask for help. But… I’m not sure how much Shishou will be able to help you with that. I’m sorry to disappoint you, I thought you knew,” he paused, as though he was going to tell Ritsu something that might devastate him. “He’s… not an esper, in the way we are.”

Ritsu stared at him, then closed his eyes slowly; the deep emotional pain over all the words he could not say was an almost palpable thing.

Teru desperately tried not to laugh. “Ritsu knows that,” he jumped in. “But he still thinks he could benefit from Mr. Reigen’s wisdom. You know, in the application of his powers.”

Shigeo brightened, a smile breaking across his face like a sunrise. “Oh! Oh, Shishou is brilliant at that; I’m sure he would be happy to help you, Ritsu.”

Ritsu’s teeth ground together. Through a clenched jaw he gritted out, “Thank you, Nii-san.”

Teru was practically choking down his laughter. Shou’s face was steadily approaching the same shade as his hair, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughs of his own. He clearly wouldn’t be of any help, so Teru nudged Ritsu with his foot. Ritsu sighed resignedly, and opened his eyes.

“So, yes. I wanted to, you know, arrange everything, make an appointment, make sure I don’t see him on a busy week, or, when he’s feeling stressed, by, uh, any particularly threatening clients?”

“Um, I can ask Shishou about it?” Shigeo said, sounding a little puzzled. “I can text him and see if he’s got time this week.”

“Yeah, good luck with tha- ow!” Shou yelped as the TV remote, the nearest small object Teru could grab telekinetically, thunked hard against his shin under the table. Shou scowled at Teru, eyebrows lowering as he exaggeratedly rubbed his leg. Teru smiled sedately back at him.

Ritsu hurriedly distracted his brother, who was looking confusedly back and forth between the two.

“Oh don’t worry about that, I uh, want to make the appointment myself. But, so, you think this week would be a good time? He’s not occupied with any particularly troubling cases, or customers?

Shigeo shrugged. “I haven’t been working much over the summer, since Mr. Serizawa has been more available. But as far as I know, it’s been the usual types of cases, nothing they couldn’t take care of.”

“Okay, uh, good to know. Thanks. Well then, I will… make that appointment later.” Ritsu said, unconvincingly. Shigeo smiled warmly at him anyway.

There was another pause, during which Ritsu tried not to look like he was hiding something and, in Teru’s opinion, failed spectacularly.

Now that they’d gotten the information they needed, Teru was eager to pass it on so that they could move to the next stage of the plan. He glanced at Shou, who met his gaze as though he had been waiting for it, and the two exchanged a look of perfect understanding. Teru didn’t know why, but Shou had decided to get involved in this too, and was ready to get on with it.

“Welp.” Shou jumped out of his seat. “Been here for practically two days, time for me to head out.”

“Yes,” Teru agreed, standing and pushing his chair in. “Me as well. I have some errands to run. Tell your parents thanks again for letting us stay the night.” Teru winked. “And, happy to kick your asses at Super Smash any time.”

“Oh,” Shigeo said, startled; by now they’d grown used to Shou’s abrupt disappearances, but Teru usually dragged out his goodbyes.

Ritsu’s eyes widened.

“Wait, you’re leaving? But what about… that um… that thing you were going to help me with?”

Shou tched and didn’t halt in his saunter out the door. “I have every confidence you can handle it all on your own. It was your idea, after all.”

Shigeo walked with Teru to the door, eyeing Shou’s retreating back curiously, but politely not inquiring into whatever issues he must imagine they were having. As he stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, Teru turned to give him his most brilliant smile, trying to make up for the sudden departure.

“See you later, Shigeo. Let me know when you’re free next week – you mentioned you wanted to meet up, to study together?”

He was rewarded with a nod, and very small smile.

Teru waited until he heard the door close behind him to turn and walk in the direction opposite his own apartment. After a couple of minutes Shou materialized out of thin air at his side, and the two headed for the Spirits and Such office.

***

Serizawa was not a natural leader.

He did not come up the ideas; he helped implement them. He made suggestions, he asked questions, and then he did as he was told. Until the past few months, that is; until Reigen had started to ask for his opinions, encouraging him to act on his own ideas. With each push, Serizawa had discovered a slowly-blossoming confidence in himself he had never known before.

Although, he thought, looking around at the five pairs of eyes waiting for him to make a decision, this might be jumping a bit ahead of myself.

He did have one small advantage over the others. Serizawa’s team of powerful psychics were unused to solving problems in situations where their powers were useless, and were all a bit baffled by the problem: how do you find someone that doesn’t have psychic powers? There was no indicative aura to search for, no trail of confusion and mayhem left in their wake - though having witnessed some of the shenanigans Reigen got up to, Serizawa thought that point was debatable.

Unlike the rest of them, Serizawa well understood that bigger and better psychic powers were not always the answer. Indeed, in his life they were far more likely to be the cause, not the solution, of traumatic events. Through Reigen’s help and Shigeo’s example, he’d been able to shift his view of psychic powers, to understand that his life did not have to revolve around the problems they created or resolved. But now that the first wave of anger had passed, its wake left him feeling tired, scared, and, looking around at the small band of waiting would-be rescuers, more than a little lost.

He reminded himself that, like him, they had all been a part of Claw. Followers. Just like him. It was why in times of uncertainty they had gravitated towards Reigen, who always seemed to know what to do – whether Reigen actually did or not, Serizawa thought fondly, he certainly always seemed to know what to do.

And that’s what Serizawa would do now. Act.

He took a deep breath.

“Okay. We should start with the basics. We’ve searched the office, and the last place he was, where he was probably taken.” He closed his eyes, clenching his hand around the phone and wallet in his pocket like a lifeline.

“While we wait to hear whether Shigeo knows anything, we should check out Reigen’s apartment.”

He found Reigen’s home address on some paperwork in the office, only a short train ride away. When they arrived, Serizawa was stumped for a moment by the locked front door, an issue that Koyama solved by grabbing the handle and emitting a sharp burst of power. Something in the lock mechanism broke with a crunch. Serizawa winced, but said nothing, and the others showed no indication that Koyama had done anything wrong as they filed inside.

There were, arguably, many advantages to working with former criminals.

They split up to search the small apartment, Serizawa directing Tsuchiya, Koyama, and Sakurai to search the bedroom and living room while he and Minegishi took the kitchen. He was having some trouble not seeing their search as an incredible invasion of privacy, despite their entirely noble reasons for snooping into Reigen’s belongings. Keeping out of his bedroom, at least, lessened the guilt slightly, but the dirty dishes, empty takeout containers, and odd dusty bag of salt offered no further information as to who could possibly have taken him.

Searching the kitchen did not take long – it wasn’t big, and Reigen wasn’t exactly a packrat. He didn’t seem to spend much time at home. Serizawa slumped into a mismatched kitchen chair to wait for the others to finish, fighting the fatigue that was slowly trying to swamp him in the wake of despair and a sleepless night. To keep himself alert, he watched Minegishi inspect the flourishing house plants sitting above the kitchen sink with what seemed like approval.

A pothos vine with lush, gold-streaked leaves curled a shoot around Minegishi’s extended wrist, like a cat welcoming its owner. Minegishi seemed charmed, murmuring softly, and Serizawa reflected that he was certainly not the only one who had changed since Claw. Minegishi, now practically cooing over a common house plant, had come a long way from the plant-specialist esper who ‘didn’t even really like plants.’ The vine certainly seemed gratified, responding to Minegishi’s soft words with a stretching of leaves.

That thought gave Serizawa pause.

“Can they tell you things? The plants?”

Minegishi disentangled himself from the vine gently, shaking his head.

“Not quite – not like what you’re hoping, I’m afraid. They couldn’t know if anything had happened to Reigen. It’s more, impressions; are they getting what they need, or not, for example.”

Serizawa sighed. “Well, it was a nice thought.”

Minegishi crossed his arms, almost grudgingly. “This one certainly likes Reigen though. Looks like he knows his plants.”

Serizawa’s heart hurt that Reigen wasn’t here to hear that praise. Reigen didn’t talk about this particular hobby much, which, given how little Reigen talked about personal things, made Serizawa suspect he cared about it very, very much. Reigen tended to keep any true feelings close to his chest, and that worried Serizawa. What if he had gotten into some kind of trouble that he hadn’t bothered to tell anyone about, and that’s what had gotten him kidnapped?

He wasn’t a martyr. Surely… surely he would have told Serizawa if he’d gotten himself into something that deep… wouldn’t he?

One by one, the others finished their searching and joined the pair in the tiny kitchen. They shrugged, or shook their heads, and despite having tried not to get his hopes up, Serizawa’s heart sank.

Nothing.

***

The group grabbed takeout before deciding to head back to the office, mostly because Serizawa’s apartment was really too small to be an adequate meeting place for so many people. However, he admitted to himself it was also because he couldn’t suppress his irrational hope that Reigen might swagger back through the door, look around at the crowded office with raised eyebrows and ask what the heck they were all doing there.

Instead, they entered to find two teenagers sitting expectantly on the office couch.

Serizawa stared at them in confusion, looking back at the office door that had definitely been locked and the surprised faces of the four other people behind him, then forward again at the two intruders. They looked back, one eagerly, one evenly, as though politely waiting for him to talk first.

Shou, of course, he knew well, though Serizawa hadn’t seen him often over the past few months. Shou looked more like his usual self than he had recently too, the inner fire that drove him seemingly stoked back into full flame, though by what he couldn’t imagine. Teruki Hanazawa he knew less well, though he saw him around the office often enough. In fact, he knew more about Teruki than he knew him personally, a little from Shigeo, but mostly from Reigen.

It was in discussing Teruki that Serizawa had seen Reigen truly angry for the first time – the only time, in fact, he had ever seen him so. Reigen’s anger was a cold thing; his hands had stilled, and then he’d shoved them into his pockets as though fighting to prevent their curling into fists as he’d described Teruki’s living situation. The kid lived alone, and had apparently been doing so for years. His parents were ‘working overseas’ – the way Reigen said it implied that he did not know whether that was actually true or not. What was true, though, was that his parents were not in the picture, and Reigen had taken it upon himself to do what he could.

He’d kept to the edges of Teruki’s life, hovering as though encounters were accidental and impromptu, inviting him to events and subtly encouraging office visits just often enough to maintain a presence. And then, a couple of months after Serizawa began working at Spirits & Such, Teruki had taken an interest in Reigen’s plants, and started his own small collection. It was all the excuse Reigen needed to start gifting some of his own plants to his new ‘horticulture student,’ half for the excuse of having a reason to check in on him under the guise of teaching proper plant care.

Serizawa gave himself a mental shake; he needed to stop letting his tired mind drift.

“What are you doing here?” he asked the two, deciding that was the most important question.

“Passing on Shigeo’s information,” Shou said promptly. “Or, the lack of it.”

“Oh. Wait, but… why…” Serizawa pressed the thumb and fingers of one hand against his eyelids. He was really too tired for this.

“We were already at Shigeo and Ritsu’s house,” Teruki said helpfully, seeming to notice his struggle. “Ritsu’s busy keeping Shigeo occupied, so we figured we’d let you know Shigeo didn’t know anything.”

“And that required you two to come all the way here to tell me in person?”

“Of course not,” Teruki said. “We’re here to help, obviously.”

“What?”

“So what are our next plans?” Shou asked, eyes bright.

Teru nodded, easing back on the couch. “We’ve come up with a few ideas as well, and-”

“Our plans? Now, now hold on a minute.”

Serizawa frowned at them, indecision churning in his mind.

On the one hand, he should be eager to accept any help he could get. He still had no idea who had taken Reigen or what their motivations were, and once they found him, who knew what kind of firepower these people might have. He knew that Shou was a powerful, competent fighter, and had heard enough about Teruki to know that the kid was formidable as well.

And yet…

In his time as part of Claw, Serizawa had encountered many things he had forced himself not to think about too hard. Over time he’d formed a mental box of sorts, into which he shoved anything about Claw that struck him as wrong; whenever he broached the topic of anything that sat uneasily with him with the President, he’d received an explanation that somehow made perfect sense – at least, in that moment. He’d learned to slap the ill-fitting explanation he received over the issue and shove it in the box before he could think about it any further. The President was his savior, and thus the President could not be wrong. Serizawa's understanding of all things had to fall within these boundaries, or everything - his ability to be among other people, his escape from the dark, lonely room, his hold on his powers - fell apart.

The idea of child fighters, and children forced to endure unimaginable pain for the barest hope of awakening abilities that weren't that powerful anyway, had rattled that box particularly loudly.

He'd learned more than how to run a business from Reigen; he'd let the box burst wide open, re-examined the ideas in it one-by-one, and had realized that he'd been correct about many of the things that had made him uneasy about Claw. Working with Reigen, talking with him, watching how he interacted with Shigeo and his friends, told him that he’d been right; children shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of thing, that violence. It was wrong. And these children had already been exposed to enough violence. This was an adult problem, and this time, the adults would be the ones to solve it.

Certainty settled him, and it was Shou’s gaze he met, calmly, assuredly.

“No. Thank you, but we don’t need your help. At least, not with any fighting that has to be done. I don’t want to put you – either of you – into any more danger.”

“What?” Teruki looked offended; Shou, utterly perplexed, and a little betrayed. “Why shouldn’t we help? I’m at least as powerful an esper as any of you,” Teruki stood, stiffly, arms crossed, and somehow managed to look down his nose at him – an impressive feat, considering that Serizawa was about a foot taller than him.

“What’s more,” Teruki eyed Sakurai and Koyama darkly. “I’d think most of you would be more knowledgeable about the particulars of doing the kidnapping, while I, if you remember correctly, am far more skilled at avoiding and escaping the kidnappers.”

Sakurai’s eyes narrowed. “You weren’t looking particularly successful at that when we caught you at the Seventh Branch.”

Teruki looked at him haughtily. “I got out though, didn’t I? With some assistance from Mr. Reigen, of course. I owe him for that, and more. Which is why I have every right to help find and retrieve him now.”

Shou hadn’t moved from his casual position on the couch during this diatribe. He didn’t contribute, but his eyes were narrowed as he stared back at Serizawa, and his usual smirk was nowhere to be seen.

Koyama rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know Serizawa, you haven’t seen this one fight before – he could be useful. The day the president made his move – this is the kid who almost beat Shimazaki.”

Serizawa was impressed, in spite of himself, and heard Minegishi give a soft snort behind him. “That doesn’t change the fact that you are still a kid,” Serizawa said gently. “This isn’t your responsibility.” He spoke in response to Teruki's outburst and Koyama's words, but he was still looking at Shou, trying to impress that he wasn't doing this because he didn't believe in him, or because he didn't want him around, but because he wanted him to be safe.

“I agree,” Tsuchiya said, leaning a hip against a desk and folding her arms, cutting off Teruki’s next words. “Claw did a lot of horrifying things we were blinded to, or ignored, at the time - children shouldn’t be forced into fighting. It can do… awful things to them.” Her eyes were shadowed, and Serizawa knew she was thinking of Mukai. “Thank you, but Serizawa’s right. And besides, between the five of us, we pack a lot of psychic power. I doubt we’ll encounter anything we can’t handle.

Koyama shrugged large shoulders, agreeing with that if nothing else, and Teruki’s mouth closed, jaw muscles working. Shou watched them all through half-lidded eyes, saying nothing, but his disapproval was clear.

Finally, Teruki relaxed some of the stiffness in his body, and propped his hands onto his hips. “So, do you want to hear our ideas, or not?”

A tension in the air dissipated that Serizawa hadn’t even noticed until it was gone. He sighed with relief – he’d been worried Teruki would continue arguing.

“I’d be happy to hear out any thoughts you have, thank you.” Truthfully, the vague plans he’d come up with were far from promising, and he was eager for any other possibilities.

Teruki nodded. “There are two approaches you could take, as I’m sure you’ve already realized: search for the one who was taken, or pursue the kidnappers themselves first. The most obvious issue with the first option is that Mr. Reigen has no psychic aura to sense and track down. Thus, he could be right nearby or not even in the city and we wouldn’t be able to sense a thing.”

Serizawa nodded in agreement, trying not to flinch. He could be right here on this block, on this very street even, and we wouldn’t even know. He tried to ignore the thoughts whispering through the back of his mind, and instead focus on Teruki’s words.

“That and the complete lack of clues negate the first option, at least for now. The problem with the second option, of course, is that you have no idea who took him, so you don’t know who to search for. However, I believe Suzuki had a possible solution for that?” He glanced back at the still-silent Shou, who at the sound of his name finally spoke.

“You all are still so wrapped up in psychic solutions, you forget that there are other tools. You don’t know who took him, but you know from where. And street cameras are a thing, ya know.” Shou looked at Serizawa, then Minegishi, before he tipped his head back, as though he didn’t really care about what he was saying. “Ironically, of course, you may need to get a psychic’s help with accessing any footage. I assume at least one of you still has Hatori’s number?”

Serizawa felt his heart lift.

Cameras. Of course. They would have captured everything: the time he was taken, what the kidnappers themselves looked like, how many of them there were…

The condition Reigen was in when they took him away, Serizawa tried and failed to not think.

And Hatori, with his specialty with electronics, would certainly know how to get access to the footage, legally or not. Minegishi had already pulled out his phone and was rapidly texting, thumbs flying over the keypad. Sakurai was typing on his phone as well, pulling up a map and trying to narrow down the most likely locations for camera placement.

“It depends how close they were to this street corner,” he was saying to Tsuchiya and Koyama. Serizawa let the words fade for a moment, focusing on the still unhappy faces of the two teenagers.

“Thank you,” Serizawa said, trying to express just how grateful he really was to them, for this chance. “I’m sorry, I know you’re disappointed – but this was so much more helpful, and doesn’t put you in any danger at all. It’s the best possible solution.” He smiled at them, and then allowed himself to be drawn into Sakurai’s deliberations.

He was so absorbed that he didn’t notice when Shou and Teruki left, neither having actually voiced an agreement to stay out of the way.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp100 fanfiction #shifting perspectives #serirei #*whew* this one got a bit longer than my usual #long post #fanfiction #my fics

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