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#understanding of this horrifying and dehumanizing experience'
ohnoitstbskyen · 1 year
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Would I be able to ask what is your opinion and thoughts of representations of Plurality (DID, OSDD, Etc.) in media?
I feel like people like us are both severely underrepresented and severely misrepresented in a negative light and are often used as a narrative device to do "oh wow this person is secretly evil half the time because ooooh scary second personality!".
I just highly respect all of your analyses and wanted to see if you've collected any thoughts on this!
Also as an after note (even if you don't reply to this) I wanted to thank you for all of your work on Youtube and various platforms, it's very nice to have someone who examines different media in a positive way with an open mind! It makes me (a transfem disabled person) very happy and makes me feel like there's a safe space even for someone like me in the league community.
I don't know enough about plurality as a set of psychological diagnoses or experiences to feel comfortable framing any kind of authoritative opinion on it. I defer to the opinions of people who either have lived experience or have done more substantial research.
But if you're asking, and you want me to express my best understanding, I'll give it a shot.
My opinions on it aren't especially deep or insightful, I think. As you say, in character design it has this really unfortunate Jekyll and Hyde baggage which is difficult to dismantle and which you always struggle against when trying to tell stories about it. Most people's point of reference for DID would probably be something like the Gollum/Sméagol system, or horror movies like that M. Night Shyamalan film Split. It is habitually treated as essentially a kind of demonic possession, and conflated with what I would consider very Christian ideas of sin and virtue.
Even on the positive end, I believe it tends to get exoticized, where a character might have several distinct personalities each of whom has distinct sets of superpowers or abilities, which... I mean I guess it's nice to frame it as a form of empowerment and something positive rather than horrifying? But it still kinda reinforces this idea that DID is some sort of magic, or a fantastical condition, like being bitten by a radioactive spider or transformed by alien space rays. I feel like it still sort of dehumanizes the condition, turns it into something other than just another way to go through the human experience.
And I don't know how you untangle those things - Jekyll and Hyde and its derivative narratives are compelling because the experience of not being in control of your own worst impulses is a near universal human experience. The experience of wearing multiple masks and faces in multiple different situations and grappling with existential questions of selfhood between them is a universal human experience.
So that's probably a kind of story that we're going to keep telling, it is a human need to express human experiences. But telling those stories shouldn't tar the experiences or nature of plural people by association, it shouldn't be necessary to exoticize or demonize these things to frame a compelling narrative about them.
What exactly the positive middle-ground between these things looks like, I don't know - again, I really don't feel like I have a strong enough foundation of knowledge to speak with authority, but a good place to start is probably with plural people creating stories about their experiences, and the rest of us taking our cues from that.
(Idly, if anyone has a book or comic recommendation for a story that does plurality well, do let me know in the replies.)
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thyandrawrites · 2 years
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it really was pointless!!!! Toga has his blood, he should have anticipated it! The first clone Toga makes (not her actually transforming) WILL have Jin's personality, memories, etc. He'll be "back" temporarily, and could make infinite clones ESPECIALLY since we know Jin's clones can be used for blood transfusions so she could potentially harvest infinite amounts of blood for keeping the transformation/making sure she can constantly create more clones. There was literally NO point. And Hawks is supposed to be smart enough to have realized this was a possibility given he knew their abilities.
I agree. Hawks should have seen this coming, but I think his oversight (and the Commission's) actually works with his characterization, not in spite of it.
(I hope you don't mind a longer and ramblier response, but your ask gave me food for thought)
Iirc, Toga's powerup, the ability to use the quirk of the people she transforms into, relies on the strong love she feels for them. But Toga is widely perceived as a deviant, and no one except for Jin and the League was ever able to accept her definition of love. In this light, I think it makes a lot of sense for Hawks to underestimate the threat her quirk awakening poses. Hawks never really understood the League as people, or the ties between them as care.
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After all, we already have an example of Hawks Othering Dabi because he can't understand his reaction to Twice's death. He never got to know Dabi well enough to learn that he smiles when he cries, and in absence of tears he's just left grinning manically. So when Hawks sees an expression that he cannot immediately categorize as grief, he tells Dabi that this is not what loss should look like, implying that his reaction is heartless, that Dabi's the monster here, not the person who actually struck the killing blow.
Imho Hawks' failure to read any humanity in the League is supposed to mirror hero society's rejection of those that don't fit in. Compare for example his horrified and judgemental shock to the reaction Toga always receives when she drinks blood or otherwise experiences her version of love:
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The dehumanization at play is very similar. The basics are: "you're emoting in a way that doesn't fit social norms I'm accustomed to, thus you're a deviant that doesn't conform, and as such, a monster".
Considering how Hawks only offered a chance for a fresh start to Twice, despite his time with them he never really got to see past that superficial impression of the League as violent freaks and murderers. It wouldn't surprise me if his idea of Toga is not to far off from that of the people who covered her childhood home in offensive graffiti.
I'm mentioning all of this because Hawks refused to acknowledge Jin's dying words. The hankie story.
In his dying breaths, Jin was trying to make Hawks see the humanity of the people he befriended in his time with the League. He tells him that heroes always divide people into "the virtuous," aka those deserving their help, and the "downtrodden folk" like the League, who don't. And he tells him that even if society sees his friends as hopelessly inhumane, beyond salvation, it was Toga who helped him at his lowest point, lending him a handkerchief to wrap around his head and ease his fear of splitting up. When the heroes left him to fend for himself until he lost his mind, it was a villain who cared to put him back together.
But Hawks never got to see that side of Toga, or that side of everyone else beyond Jin. He never acknowledged Toga's love as care the same way he recognized Twice's genuine love for his friends.
Hawks' worldview isn't wide enough to accommodate for such gray areas. I've written a post before on how I think Hawks functions on a categorization of people into "good" and "bad" boxes because that's what helped him survive the abuse, and imho this is just another example of it in practice. So he decides that Jin is a good man who was led astray by bad company, and only sees the rest of the League as monsters incapable of being as "good" as Jin.
I think Hawks' failure to foresee the consequences of killing Twice might fit into this narrative. It's not that he lacked any intel to make the connection, or that he had an uncharacteristic moment of stupidity and didn't think of the ramifications of murdering him. But if we read him as sufficiently socially inept to miscalculate the bond between lov members as purely transactional, like his reading of Dabi in relation to Jin, I think it helps understanding his incompetence better.
To put it in simpler terms, maybe it's not that he didn't anticipate that Toga could turn into the people she loves, but he simply didn't think that Toga could love Jin. Cause he assumed her version of caring was something more twisted and freaky than a "normal person's." That it had to be fundamentally different from the way people like him and Twice experienced it.
It's true enough that Toga only ever verbalized her romantic love/obsession for Deku and Ochako. We readers of course know that's not the whole extent of it, and that she draws even more strength and growth from the platonic bonds with the Lov. But it's also true that Hawks never acknowledged the League as a group of people brought together by the necessity of belonging with someone who can accept them for who they are. He just sees the villains, but not the humans underneath. Jin could,
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But Hawks doesn't.
In that light, then, when Toga will bring back Twice, that won't just be a moral slap in the face that shows the force of the bond they shared, but it will also nullify Hawks' efforts towards protecting the greater good at the expense of the "downtrodden folks" like Jin.
And in doing so, it might show old guard heroes like Hawks, who represents the HPSC and thus the system itself, the fatal mistake of believing villains aren't human at the end of the day, and exactly what needs changing to have a better future
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krihmuh · 6 months
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"Get Out: Unmasking the Deeper Horrors"
What's good, horror buffs! Let's talk about a film that not only shook the movie world but also had everyone buzzing about race, privilege, and society. Yup, you guessed it - Jordan Peele's incredible debut, "Get Out," which hit theaters in 2017. Now, stay woke because we're diving deep into this cinematic gem, unpacking its layers and uncovering the profound themes that make it so groundbreaking. 
Imagine this: you're watching the movie, and you start to realize that it's not just about the fear of the unknown lurking in the dark. No, it's about racial objectification, cultural appropriation, and the subtle nuances of privilege that often go unnoticed. "Get Out" brilliantly portrays the struggles faced by black people like me in a society where we’re often treated as commodities, our culture exploited and our voices silenced. But hey, we're not just here to scratch the surface, we're delving deep into the heart of the matter, dissecting some significant themes that Peele skillfully wove into this film. This isn't just a horror movie; it's a thought-provoking, eye-opening masterpiece that challenges our perspectives and sparks essential conversations. So, grab your popcorn, get comfy, and join me as we unravel the layers of "Get Out," because trust me, there's so much more to this movie than meets the eye. 
So, this movie definitely requires (and deserves) several rewatches to really understand the pretty heavy topics embedded within it, like you know, the whole “appropriating/coveting of black bodies” thing? The Armitage family's creepy plan? Swapping the minds of older white folks into young, healthy black bodies. It's not just a horror plot twist; it's a powerful yet subtle message. Peele uses the body snatching and kidnapping ring as an element of fantasy in the horror genre. That is to say that since we know that white people aren't actually going around and mind swapping into black bodies, it feels less in your face. However, the concept is still horrific especially when commenting on the black experience because it speaks on something much deeper. We can still relate with the idea from afar due to generations of appropriation and fetishization experienced from non people of color to us. Peele crafted a chilling metaphor for how black lives have been dehumanized and turned into commodities. Essentially, it's like saying, "Hey, look at how society has treated us black individuals as vessels for someone else's existence."
Now onto that cringe-worthy party scene in "Get Out." You know, the one where Chris is stuck in a whirlwind of microaggressions and well-meaning but totally clueless comments. It's not just a random moment; it's a peek into the sneaky world of cultural appropriation. "Get Out" dives headfirst into this tricky topic, showing how black culture often gets picked apart and repackaged for mainstream consumption. And that party? Oh man, this is a perfect example. Chris finds himself bombarded with remarks that might seem innocent but are actually pretty darn insensitive. It's like his identity is being erased, and his cultural heritage is reduced to nothing more than a passing trend. Jordan Peele brilliantly uses this scene to shed light on how casually people can appropriate black culture, treating it like a cool “I would vote for Obama for a third term” type of accessory without understanding its significance. Though this was an obvious commentary that I observed during the first watch, the implications of these scenes hit deeper and deeper with subsequent screenings.
We also can't forget about the eerie yet incredibly powerful "sunken place" in the film. It is imagined as this nightmarish void where people are trapped and silenced, unable to escape. Now, why is it so significant? It's not just a frightening scene to watch, especially when Chris sinks into the chair; it's a brilliant metaphor for the way black voices are marginalized in our society. This horrifying concept is Peele's way of shedding light on the systemic suppression of black stories and experiences. It's like saying, “Hey, look at how society pushes black narratives to the sidelines, keeping them quiet and invisible." And the way he visualizes it – this nightmarish void – makes you confront the harsh reality of social silencing. So, when you're watching those scenes in the "sunken place," it's not just a cinematic choice; it's a call to recognize the voices that have been muted for far too long.
Now to a pretty bold move by "Get Out" – it takes on something called white liberal racism. Now, you might think that progressive folks are immune to racist attitudes, right? Well, not at all. The movie shows us that even seemingly well-meaning, progressive families like the Armitages can have some serious issues beneath the surface.
So, here’s the four-one-one: the Armitage family appears all open-minded and accepting, but they're actually a prime example of what we call performative allyship. You know, where people act like they're supportive but their actions tell a different story. Jordan Peele brilliantly peels back the layers, revealing the subtle, underlying racism that can exist within these circles.
In the film, the Armitages showcase how racism isn't just about blatant hatred. Nope, it can sneak in through small, seemingly harmless comments – those sneaky and derogatory little things we call microaggressions – and even through cultural appropriation. Peele's characters serve as a sharp reminder that racism can hide behind a facade of progressivism, catching us off guard when we least expect it.
Jordan Peele’s “Get Out”, definitely grabs you by the shoulders and violently shakes those who have been kind of living under a rock when it comes to what the film is trying to portray. Think of it as a wake-up call wrapped in a suspenseful story. Yes, it terrifies us, but it does something even more profound – it makes us question our beliefs and biases. It challenges our perspectives and makes us reevaluate societal norms that we might have taken for granted.
This film, to me, is a catalyst for change. It sparks conversations we desperately need to have. When we dissect and analyze the layers of meaning in "Get Out," we're not just watching a movie; we're taking a journey toward understanding and empathy. It compels us to confront our own prejudices, biases, and blind spots. And that’s where the real power of "Get Out" lies – in its ability to inspire change, one uncomfortable conversation at a time. So, the next time you watch it, sit in the discomfort each scene makes you feel. Because it’s in that discomfort that real change starts to happen.
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isfjmel-phleg · 7 months
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Before Thad, who first appeared in 1999, there was Match, who was introduced about two years earlier and filled a similar role. He is a clone of Kon, created by an evil organization as a pawn in their schemes. He and Kon have multiple face-offs, there's a point where Match replaces Kon and no one suspects the switch, and Match's story (at least in the 1990s/early 2000s version of these characters) ends with his running away screaming in emotional pain after realizing he can't have the love he longs for. Very similar to Thad's story, on the surface. But nevertheless, Match remains an antagonist through his appearances and doesn't evoke the reader's sympathy in the same way that Thad does.
I'm going to examine Match's story and characterization, how his narrative approaches him vs. how Thad's does, and why we respond to these boys differently. There are literary devices at work here.
Story time!
Match was created and grown to late adolescence extremely quickly, and like Kon, has been implanted with knowledge in lieu of life experience. He is introduced rising out of a cloning chamber that is repeatedly described as coffinlike, and his creators refer to him as "the ultimate commodity." He is dehumanized from the start.
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(Superboy 1994 #35)
Especially in comparison to Kon. Although they look identical in form and feature, Match is colorless--paler skin, white hair, white eyes with no apparent irises. This is never explained, but the visual it provides is of a literal "pale imitation."
Although you can't see it in the panel below, he lacks Kon's piercing. Kon was tagged by Cadmus while they created him, and he replaced the tag with an earring after escaping. Match hasn't been tagged; instead, he has been branded on the chest with the Agenda's symbol. And unlike a tag which can be removed, that brand isn't going anywhere, and neither are Match's preprogrammed loyalties to his creators.
He is further dehumanized by first appearing while wearing nothing. Shortly before meeting Match, Kon gets angry at Amanda Spence (head of the Agenda) for not only taking his clothes while they had him unconscious but also ogling him in this state. She has violated him, treated him like an object, and his strong sense of personhood isn't going to tolerate that anymore. But Match has no reaction whatsoever to being naked in a room full of people and only matter-of-factly dresses when Amanda hands him his uniform. He has been programmed to believe himself an object, a tool, and tools don't get to have privacy or boundaries.
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(Superboy 1994 #36)
Match's creators emphasize that they have "improved upon" Kon. He's "a superior life form" who is "more intelligent, more powerful, more durable. And on the whole, far more manageable." Kon posed problems for Cadmus when he resisted attempts to implant control words. He has always been individualistic. This is not a desirable trait in someone intended to be a commodity, so the Agenda specifically designs Match to have no individuality whatsoever. His first words are to parrot history facts that Kon was earlier embarrassed not to know, as a means of proving his intellectual superiority.
Kon is horrified to learn that Match (and his "siblings," because the Agenda has created countless other clones, all of whom end up dying in an explosion) is "for sale."
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Match is so brainwashed by his programming that he is unable to want anything for himself that the Agenda does not want. But even though Match claims he's okay with being enslaved, Kon is ready to accept him as family without question.
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Instead, Match tries to kill him. Kon tries to get him to understand that he doesn't have to do things just because the Agenda tells him to, but the Agenda doesn't even allow him to reply. "Match is a tool," they tell Kon. "He's not distracted by trivial concerns like a conscience or notions of right and wrong. He simply accomplishes the task at hand, which at the moment is your demise." So Match has been denied not only agency but also the concept of morality (another trait that's important to who Kon is). He doesn't have the option to be good even if he could want to, according to his programming.
Kon continues to try to appeal to Match's humanity, to the brotherly relationship they could have. Match rejects this: "I don't need to be human." So Kon gives up on convincing him and points out that despite Match's alleged superiority, he is "empty" inside.
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Kon later berates Amanda Spence for being "so worried about him being obedient, you took all the humanity out of him." But he's still ready to rescue Match when the Agenda's headquarters is about to be destroyed. Match makes his first decision on his own account: he doesn't want to be rescued, because he doesn't need Kon's help. Not a great decision, but it shows that he has developed a distinctive trait of his own--pride, unfortunately. He is believed dead afterward. Kon is saddened by his inability to get through to Match, but Tana brushes that concern aside, so Kon dismisses it as "I guess it could've been a lot worse."
Match isn't dead. Superman, Supergirl, and Steel find him surviving the wreckage of Agenda headquarters later. How he's managed to last that long in Alaska and what he's been living on is unclear. He objects to Superman calling him "the clone": "I'm Match...and I want you to go away!" He refuses to go with them to help the dying Superboy and claims he won't be taken by them or anyone else. He rejects Superman's offer to help him too.
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(Superboy 1994 #40)
(His brand is visible earlier in the scene but missing here. An artist's mistake, perhaps?)
Presumably during his time alone, he's done some thinking about what he wants. He can be individualistic after all, but he's still lacking in morality. And quite possibly hurting. His rejection here has the tone of somebody who is afraid to trust.
There are a lot of similarities between Match and Thad--the creation to be a weapon, the denial of personhood and agency and the chance to be good by choice, the defensive insistence on his own superiority, the rejection of attempts to take him in hand. But there's something missing from Match's story that's present in Thad's.
We meet Thad first from his own POV before he ever meets Bart. His perspective and intentions are presented to us so we see firsthand where he's coming from. During his impersonation of Bart, we are given his inner monologue. We get to know him quite well. And when his inner monologue stops, the narration takes over, and it's sympathetic toward him.
Match's POV, however, is not given to us. We see him through Kon's or Clark's eyes exclusively. He is someone who is reacted to, with no glimpses into his thoughts. There is almost no narration in Superboy 1994, so there's no narrative to potentially offer insight into Match. The Match we meet doesn't come across as someone whose POV would be very interesting, but if Thad's story had been presented without access to his thoughts, he too might have looked like merely a mindless tool of his creators. Access to whatever's going on in Match's head might have opened up some information that contradicts how he presents himself and recontextualizes him into a more complex character. But we aren't given that, so it's more difficult to connect with him and easier to see him as merely an obstacle.
The next time he shows up, he's working for the Agenda again in their scheme to take over Cadmus. He impersonates Kon during several adventures with Young Justice (using an unexplained means to make his appearance seem to match Kon's--he drops it later on and instantaneously returns to his actual appearance).
Match succeeds in mimicking Kon's turn of phrase, but he doesn't get the personality quite right. His version of Kon is much more belligerent, glory-seeking, and prone to arguing with Tim and questioning his leadership. These are traits that the real Kon has exhibited with the team, particularly early in their time together, but Match takes them to a sudden extreme. He's much less sensitive to others too, such as here after he has insulted and punched Red Tornado.
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(Young Justice 1998 #17)
He antagonizes Tim, interacts much less with Bart, and manages to alienate Greta in a way that will adversely affect her relationship with the real Kon. And unlike the real Kon, he starts paying more attention to Cassie. He tells her she looks better without the wig and goggles, uses her interest in him to manipulate her into distrusting Tim...
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...and even kisses her, to her delight. Part of the act, or is Match starting to develop feelings for the girl his counterpart has overlooked? We might have found out if the narrative had allowed us access to his thoughts, but it did not. Match's identity was a surprise that wasn't supposed to be given away yet. But what if the narrative had given Match's POV in a way that made us assume it was Kon's?
His deception is finally revealed during the Sins of Youth arc, when the real Kon finally catches up to him, furious and calling him his "evil twin." Match fights back, taunting him about his lack of intelligence. He gets away and heads back to Cadmus, still impersonating Kon. But Tana isn't as easily fooled as Young Justice.
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(Superboy 1994 #74)
Note Match's stiff hands when she hugs him, similar to Thad's typical response to affectionate touch. Match can show affection, as we've seen with him and Cassie, but he's not comfortable around Tana. (Nor should he be!)
Although initially annoyed at his deception's being exposed, he later claims, "I'm glad you know, actually. I won't have to pretend to be that annoying, brash--" It might have been enlightening to get more of his thoughts on the impersonation. What effect did living Kon's life have on him? Kon's life isn't anywhere near as stable and full of love as Bart's, but it's still probably more desirable than Match's loveless existence.
...but then Kon and Cassie arrive, and we never find out.
When Cassie tells him she knew deep down he couldn't be the real Kon and should have acted on her instincts, Match retorts that she should have known that he was better than Superboy, and he uses his heat vision on her. Is he really insulted about not being thought superior or because the girl he was starting to like has rejected him?
We don't know. He proceeds to make it worse.
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Kon interferes, and he and Match get into another argument about what it means to be one's own person.
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"All I got is who I am." And that's really all that Match has too. This scene might have packed even more of a punch (pun definitely intended) if we knew more about whatever identity struggles Match might be dealing with. Being the Agenda's tool is an empty life. Impersonating Kon is a lie and something that he can never really have. So who is Match, personally? We don't know. The most distinctive thing we've seen from him is his interest in Cassie.
The fight is interrupted and resumed later, after Kon has been aged up. Match is spouting Agenda rhetoric again, but now he's also using Kon's grief at Tana's death to demoralize him and trying to suggest that he and Kon are the same in how they react to loss. His response to Cassie's rejecting him was to express a wish that she be cloned into "my perfect counterpart." And Kon's immediate reaction to seeing Tana be killed was to frantically suggest that Cadmus clone her.
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(Sins of Youth: Superboy Sr. and Superman Jr. #1)
Why exactly is Match, who has been so insistent that he is superior to Kon, now trying to equalize them? Is he starting to see that he wants what Kon had? Getting his POV could have answered those questions and added another layer to this conversation.
We don't get to find out. Match is handed over to the authorities after this fight and doesn't reappear until Young Justice 1998 #38. This issue was connected to a DC-wide event in which the Joker gassed other supervillains into versions of themselves in his image and set them on the loose. A Jokerized Match shows up at YJ headquarters looking to impersonate Kon again.
For the first time, we do get Match's POV, but unfortunately it's during a late appearance and it's while he's had his mind taken over by someone else. Since he's been Jokerized, everything is treated flippantly, and his behavior is erratic.
YJ does assume that he's Kon, but also that he's engaging in an extremely tasteless prank in the middle of a high-stress situation (two members of the team have just abruptly left). Part of his scheme involves making a twisted version of a romantic dinner for Cassie. Despite the Jokerization, is that some of Match's own motives coming through?
Cassie is not impressed, yells at him, and makes a startling confession: "I can't believe I ever loved you!" And Match believes that that was meant for him, personally, not Kon. He is moved to exaggerated tears. He has never been loved before, and the narrative finds this ridiculous.
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He can't handle the knowledge that he was loved by someone whom he believes he doesn't deserve. So he runs away, bemoaning the tragedy of his inability to act on "true love," and he never appears again (until the later series which I don't acknowledge, which has a very different take on him).
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This reads like a parody of the climax of the Mercury Falling arc from Impulse, which had appeared about a year before. In that story, Thad realizes that the people whose revenge he's been created to bring about will never love him and he'll never know the kind of love that Bart and his father-figure have, and he runs away into the speed force, screaming his hatred of the people who lied to him. Because of what we know of Thad and his motives by having access to his POV for so long, this scene, accompanied by narration that highlights Thad's emotional pain, is quite moving and effective. We really feel for this poor kid, who didn't have a chance. Quite a few readers wrote in asking for a redemption arc for Thad.
Match, like Thad, comes to have feelings for someone close to the person he was posing as, is hurt when he realizes that that person doesn't love him for himself, and lashes out in anger. Like Thad, he is offered love, reacts emotionally, but ultimately is unable to accept it. But because the POV of his Jokerized self is so ridiculous and because we don't really have any established insight into Match and his inner life, there is no emotional impact to his response to Cassie. He feels for himself, but we the audience are less likely to feel for him as we might for Thad because we hardly know him and the narrative won't let us take him seriously.
I have not seen any evidence of letters from the original readership calling for a redemption arc for Match.
And it's too bad, really. There's a lot of potential in Match's character. He's a fascinating foil to Kon, everything that Kon could have been if he hadn't developed individuality and compassion. There are signs that Match is capable of change--if not quite actual growth--but the nature of the narrative never allowed him an inner life and a more complex struggle with his lack of humanity. He is there to be an antagonist. And he fulfils that purpose.
Just as the Agenda intended.
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dogpelts-art · 8 months
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trigger warning: sexual assault (child sexual assault, animal child rape, grooming), mass harassment, zoophilia mention, beastiality mention, sexual nudity mention, self destructive behaviours
thank you everyone who sincerely wished for me to get help! fortunately i am already engaged with several therapists. i am thankful to the select few people who reached out & let me talk through everything with them, and helped me realize what was going on. this all led to me being able to speak about it with my support system and start working through my years of online exposure, break out of the cycle of harmful sexual behavior towards myself, learn to unpack why i felt the need to continue that unhealthy cycle and work on understanding the long term effects of animal on child rape, CSA, grooming, etc had on my hypersexuality, online presence and relationships.
turns out being dehumanized through years of sexual abuse and portraying those feelings by drawing yourself as a dog being sexually tortured is not normal behavior! crazy
trying to explore these very complex feelings through art ended with me, once again, exposing myself, my past trauma and my body to others. this is a vicious cycle and i now know just how dangerous, common, yet unspoken about the victimization cycle is for survivors of csa. this is why i won’t be apologizing for fleeing. it was the safest thing for me to do, not just because of some angry people on twitter, but from actual predators i was engaged with. i was in no state to speak up about everything considering all this entails.
in regards to the one zoophile i followed, they had ΘΔζ in their display name. from my understanding the first two are therian symbols (?) and i assumed the third was too. i assure you i shared the shock everyone else had when i realized what it actually meant. taking the time to actually look through shit & when i saw that person fantasizing about committing beastiality in their tweets, the realization hit that i was interacting with people who might’ve been harming real animals, it made me sick to my fucking stomach and thankfully changed my entire view on the situation. you are of course free to believe what you want, but i personally think it’s fucking insane that because of this mistake i am being made out to be someone who “actively endorses animal cruelty and rape”. i can promise you i’d have offed myself long ago if that was the case. i am horrified enough at myself for engaging in feral art at any point in my life but please know i do not align at all with people who wish harm or sexual acts on animals.
as much as i believe i was influenced during all this, i certainly did make decisions to make situations worse, including an attempt to make money, and i take full responsibility for that. i am sincerely sorry for any harm caused. none of this should have happened in the first place and it shouldn't have spiraled so far.
to reiterate and make clear: my art was not real and was not intended to represent reality. it was not meant to represent any harm or sexual acts being done to actual animals. it was not made to encourage zoophilia or acts of beastiality, nor did it represent my personal feelings towards animals. everything depicted was a character meant to represent parts of myself and used as a way to express feelings of dehumanization and to reclaim traumatic experiences. i am now of the understanding it was entirely wrong, and was unintentionally used by zoophiles. i am extremely sorry.
i promise you i have heard quite literally every variation of threat or disparage you could possibly make towards me. i wish to say that you are valid in your anger, however, all i ask is no other people get harassed. i have never and will never encourage hate speech of any kind, no matter what side you’re on.
the original callout itself inherently caused further harm to myself and others. i beg you to stop sending minors explicit porn and directing them to nsfw accounts. no drama is worth endangering more people.
i am putting hard limits on my future online presence and i simply won’t be further engaging with the furry community. however, art is something i am still passionate about and is my main source of income, so i am working on making that a safe activity for myself. my social media will be monitored with help from my disability support workers to help me with my muted fear response and lack of perception concerning safety & danger. i will not be personally interacting or messaging anyone, simply just using my platform to post illustrations. i am focusing on recovery, and you can choose to respect that or not. i know the harassment is something i will just have to live with, but know i will try not to be engaging with it for my own safety.
if you’ve experienced any form of sexual assault as a child, please know you have a higher risk of revictimization. protect yourself. learn from my mistakes. access resources, speak to trusted adults. follow your gut. being led to seeing yourself as an inhuman animal and object can be incredibly dangerous. you don’t deserve to feel that way. don’t let people treat you as such.
for those of you who are genuinely trying to do the right thing and need an outlet for your anger — rather than doxxing, threatening and sending mass harrassment to already at risk individuals, i encourage you to utilize your time, skill sets and donations to support your local animal welfare officers. consider joining animal protection forces. report evidence of occurring animal abuse to authorities.
thanks for reading.
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vitalphenomena · 7 months
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why is spirit so <3 spirit <3
spirit was grown in a test tube in captivity. she was treated more like an iphone or a wild animal. she is accustomed, due to the primacy of it all, to being dehumanized. from "birth" to age eight she was raised in and out of severely isolating circumstances. complete isolation is one of the worst things you can do to a child from an emotional and psychological perspective. the effect on developing social connections, attachment, even just development in general is huge and conveyed in spirit's immaturity and stuttering, wavering speech patterns.
spirit had bio-augmenting surgery done on her against her will to compel her to hear dead people. in the place she was raised, almost all of those dead people were human experiments, mostly children like her, who'd been through unspeakable things (and then like, random people who died in the desert throughout history). and all she could do for months on end was sit in a small white room and listen to them mourn and grieve and demand justice.
the same people who put her into complete isolation were the people who "rescued" her from it whenever they (somewhat arbitrarily) decided it was time to study her directly. so theyre the first thing she sees and the last thing. theyre her tormentor as well as her savior. she frequently tries to conflate these two roles, doesn't understand how they could be kept separately.
eventually the ghosts warned spirit she was in a position where she was going to be executed. she was extremely outspoken and frantic in the lab, and her emotional volatility rendered her a less practical experiment. she warned four other experiments (who were, for other reasons, to be executed) of their impending fate. she used her essentially omnipotent connections to construct an escape plan.
so spirit, harris, and burns (with juniper tending to baby lila) set the lab on fire and went out of their way to brutally murder their captors and tormentors. but also, spirit loved them like parents! so did harris! so it's complicated. and also, horrifying to experience.
then she was literally feral until age 12-13. they were wandering the desert and woods killing animals, breaking into homes, doing crazy shit to survive and only surviving because of how they were created ~special~ compared to the average child/person.
i could go on and on about the things she's gone through in her canon starting from when i started writing on tumblr, but these things are foundational and, like, not her fault at all, because she was literally held captive from birth and fighting to survive. if you want me to analyze specific canon events / her addiction / depressive tendencies, let me know.
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edoro · 2 years
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what are your thoughts on "you looked the most like him"? It really is a line that sticks with you after watching the episode
that part gave me several new syndromes <3
okay no but. yeah. it's very evocative and it really has stuck with me. there's so much wrapped up in that, so many implications, and the actions surrounding it - that contemptuous little hair flick, the way Hunter flinched and teared up over it, the visibly evident sadistic enjoyment Belos took in humiliating Hunter in that moment...
i think that line and "it hurts every time he chooses to betray me" really make it clear how he feels about the grimwalkers. none of them are individuals, they're all just pale imitations of someone who is already lost to him, and for all that he wants them to be 'better' and feels 'hurt' by their 'betrayal', he also regards it as inevitable. he's aware on some level of the cyclical nature of this undertaking, but he keeps doing it anyway.
it seems like he may have favored Hunter to some degree (horrifying to consider how this meant he treated the ones who weren't his favorites, although, also, being the favorite of a man like that really is not a good experience, actually) but it had nothing to do with who Hunter actually is.
it's just so dehumanizing, another example of how Hunter doesn't mean anything to him as a person. he's just a toy and Belos values him because he looks the most like the original. it's not something within Hunter's control, it's not even something Hunter knows about, it's just something that satisfies Belos.
and being told that - it's a shame Belos has to kill him, because he looks the most like the original - makes it clear that Belos isn't upset about losing Hunter, he's just upset that he's losing his favorite toy. it further drives home not just how little value Hunter has to him but that it's never been what Hunter thought it was.
so it's really just piling existential crisis on top of existential crisis for Hunter here. he isn't who or what he thought he was, Belos isn't who or what Hunter thought he was, none of this has meant what Hunter thought it meant, and the entire nature of his relationship with his uncle is completely different from what he thought it was.
it's... really hard to overstate how absolutely psychologically devastating it is to realize that someone who you thought loved you, someone who made you feel special, only ever saw you as a toy and used you to satisfy themselves in ways you couldn't comprehend.
it's just very haunting. it's so dismissive and humiliating and dehumanizing. it makes it absolutely crystal clear what Hunter means to Belos and how much Belos simply views him as an object.
(it also, needless to say, really pings my "wow this is sure an incestuous fucking obsession he has" radar here. his absolute smothering possessive creepiness and predatory behavior towards Hunter combined with his jealousy and obsession over his dead brother combined with how to him, the most notable thing that made him really favor and enjoy Hunter is the physical resemblance just... all adds up into a hideous smoothie of nastiness.
plus, that feeling of "i thought you loved me, you told me i was special, i thought i meant something to you, but it turns out i was just a toy for you and you were just using me in ways i literally did not have the ability to understand at the time" sure is a deeply resonant csa type of experience.)
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teaveetamer · 2 years
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The things about anyone who sides with Edelgard is fine actually (tm) interesting and I agree I remember seeing a Twitter post about what a bad character Monica was and the reply was "She actually has a lot of depth and plot relevance because she’s a lesbian. Hope that helps" That doesn't make her a better character? These are the same people who dislike the other simp characters right? They even said it's an insult to compare her to Faye. Why because it's Edelgard she simps for?
God “she’s a lesbian so she must be a good character” gives me the same vibes as “this story is deep because a girl got sexually assaulted” vibes (ETA: See the edit below for further explanation on this one). Like for some people that’s where the whole depth begins and ends. It’s mere existence within the narrative is somehow enough, no need to justify its existence with actually good writing or sensitive handling or meaningful integration into the narrative.
She is fundamentally exactly 0% different from the Faye archetype. Her simping for a girl over a guy does not make her somehow deeper than that. And why should it? Being a lesbian isn’t some deep or profound experience in itself. It’s literally basic biographical information about who you like to kiss/bang. The interesting parts are how it informs your world view and the person it makes you. Which, and I cannot stress this enough, is given exactly zero focus in Monica’s story. So no, it does not make her interesting or better than the other Fayes.
ETA, since it might be unclear why I'm making this comparison in the OP:
It’s the same principle to me: predominately straight, predominantly cisgendered, predominantly men co-opting the experiences of women/queer people under the false impression that it creates narrative depth, while refusing to understand or portray those narratives in a way that is meaningful or relatable to the people they presume to be representing.
I suppose I could have used something different, but SA was simply on my brain because I watch quite a lot of horror games (happy October!), and sexual assault is a very common theme in the genre. It’s frequently treated as a writing crutch, the “easy button” to portray a horrific experience (since naturally all decent people are horrified by it) but it doesn’t say anything. It’s there to create shock value rather than to be a meaningful exploration of women’s experiences with sexual violence or the culture that helps perpetuate it, and thus its use in story or in argument winds up coming off as cheap. The women who experience it in these games are often portrayed as if that is the ONLY thing about their experience that matters, and you are often given no further detail beyond their name (sometimes not even that) and the fact that they were assaulted. It’s incredibly uncomfortable and dehumanizing to hear the meta-message: “The important thing about this character is the fact that they’ve been assaulted. Nothing else, just that. When you are assaulted, there is nothing meaningful about you aside from your experience with assault and thus we feel no need to engage with your experience further.” Not to mention it can have very sexist undertones, but that can be a story for another post.
(Note that I am not saying all portrayal of SA in media is like this. But you can usually tell when a writer is attempting to approach a subject with sensitivity and grace and when a writer is leaning on it as an emergency writing crutch. I’m also not implying that only women experience SA, however in the horror genre this type of writing is disproportionately applied to female characters and is often very gendered).
Similarly, being queer is frequently treated as a meaningful character trait in itself with no need to explore further or engage meaningfully with the experiences of queer people. It can come off as tokenism and dehumanizing to be told the meta-message: “The important thing about this character is the fact that they’re queer. Nothing else, just that. When you are queer, there is nothing meaningful about you aside from who you love and/or who you bang and thus we feel no need to engage with your experience further.” I shouldn’t have to say this, but queer people are complete human beings with a depth of experience and being reduced down to our sexuality, by people who frequently do not look like us I might add, is certainly something. Heterosexual people are never treated as if their experience starts and ends with their sexuality, and I simply believe we deserve the same respect. And being queer should not be treated as a shield against character criticism. Being queer does not make you better or worse than anyone else.
[This part in response to someone claiming that the statement in question in the anon was a joke]
And I’m sorry, but I can’t know whether someone is joking when they say stuff like “being a lesbian gives you depth” on the internet. I don’t know if they’re gay, straight, man, woman, enby, cis, trans, or anything else. It’s not as if every person who says that kind of thing is joking. So I’m approaching it with a serious tone, because even if this particular person is joking and is the kind of person who understands the queer experience, this is still a mentality that is often found in media representation of queer folk and it does warrant discussion from that perspective.
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greetingfromthedead · 25 days
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C59: Comfort in Knowledge
For more information on the series (tags, CW, etc) click the banner!
Series Rating: 18+ / Explicit
Chapter: 59/84
Words: 1.9k
Warning: This chapter handles some very dark themes including nonconsensual human experimentation, dehumanization, torture, mutilation, impregnation, and miscarriage! You'll find a chapter summary in the end.
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You are still in his embrace; you barely breathe as your mind races, the pictures and shards of information flowing through your mind. There are still a lot of details missing; years worth of logs are lost, or at least haven't come up yet. You have no idea of the extent of the experiments that were done; this is but a small sliver. And you're still missing a crucial detail.
You pull free from Vash's arms and look for the tablet; your eyes lock on it. From this angle, you don't see what exactly is happening on the screen; you just see movement, and since you've learned that the videos don't loop, you can only assume the video is of the same experiment. Your hand reaches out for the device, but Vash grabs your fingers instead.
"Maybe you should take a break. This is a lot, and it is horrible." His voice is sad, and as you look into his eyes, you see sorrow in them.
"There it is... the pity I don't want. Don't feel sorry for me... Don't take it on yourself to make it better. It's not your job; you didn't do this, and you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing will ever make this okay anyway. Now give it back; there is still more. If you don't want to see it, then I can go on by myself. You can go to Brad and tell him I'm fine; I'm sure he still beats himself up over it for whatever reason."
"But you aren't fine. You shouldn't be. You have every right to be angry, sad, and horrified." Vash's gaze is tentatively on you, looking for any hint of the different emotions that must be boiling in you, but there is nothing but neutrality.
"Don't tell me how I should feel about this. It is what it is; it can't hurt me anymore. That man is dead; that's the past. Nobody will strap me to a table again and pull me limb from limb; they won't cut me open like a roast tomas; I will not feel this pain again. I am fine." Your voice is calm and collected, with unwavering stubbornness reflecting from your face. It reminds Vash of the early days; your headstrong nature has captivated him since the beginning, your bravery, and your willfulness.
"If that is what you want," he lets go of your hand and picks up the tablet, swiping away the video before handing it to you. "I am not leaving your side."
"That is your choice." You sound a little bit sad, but Vash is unsure why.
December 20th, 2455
0325's body has rejected now all of the 25 human embryos I've tried to implant; none have been attached. Her body destroys the cells completely in a matter of hours and absorbs them, similar to poisons. I have little hope for Plant cells, but perhaps they are more resilient. I will start with the first set tonight.
The results for Plant cell implantation are the same as with human embryos; the body rejects them completely, making me believe that her immune system rejects everything that is not biologically hers and makes the body attack it. I wonder what it includes, how it would react to sperm cells, whether impregnation inside the body is possible, and how her egg cells would react outside the body. I have more work to do; I need more of her.
The period dedicated to research on her reproduction has had interesting side effects. To provide optimal conditions for fertilization, I have cut down on physical experimentation, only dabbling in cloning as per previous reports, and it seems her consciousness has returned to some extent. She is no longer a mere husk; she appears to have an understanding of her surroundings and has vocalized distress, but she doesn't appear to have memories. This requires further research.
January 10th, 2456
It has all been a failure. Subject 0325's body reacts to all foreign cells. Impregnation with the current means is futile; the only unexplored path is that of Independent Plants. In theory, the biological makeup could be similar enough to hers, but I have no way of testing that. I am inconsolable, my Eve is useless, and the only comfort these days is her music of agony. But her cell rejection goes further; her body seems to learn from previous experiences. At some point, she has started to reject Plant organs, no longer working to adapt them but instead destroying them and replacing the missing part with her own. I am not aware when this change took place.
I have delved into research on the soul and the Higher Plane. I believe there is a connection between subject 0325's mental state, her soul, and the plane of the Plants. As a short recap: for a while during my extensive research into her regeneration, she was wholly unresponsive, and she triggered the ship's sensors about the disturbances in the fabric of our world. Her body reacted strongly to it, but at the time I believed it to mean little more than her healing ability kicking into higher gear and her subconsciously drawing out more energy from the Higher Plane. My theory has changed slightly. I believe the signals stemmed from her fake gate widening as her healing abilities hastened after those incidents; the difference was so small I missed them previously. I believe her soul is slipping into the Higher Plane, and this action has something to do with her memories.
Today I showed her old recordings while measuring her brain activity. They seemed to trigger memories, meaning they weren't deleted completely even during the experiments. This means that not only do the cells regenerate with full data of what they need to be, but for brain cells, it also contains information about all the connections since, after experiments 2567 and 2843 (attached), all brain matter has been regenerated from zero. The other possibility is that the memories are connected to the soul and are being stored in the Higher Plane.
[attachment missing]
[attachment missing]
You look at the messages appearing as you swipe away from the text. There are no videos, but a slightly blurry thumbnail in the background depicts you inclined on the table and the robotic arms all honed in to the top of your head. You don't see anything more, so you keep going.
January 31st, 2456
I have hit a wall with my research; my current skill is not enough to delve into memory modification through manual rewiring of neural pathways, but I have found no other way to prove my hypothesis of her regeneration being so advanced that her cells remember everything, perhaps though there being a version of her blessed with instant regeneration existing on the Higher Plane.
Pain acts as a stimulant, keeping her soul from slipping into the Higher Plane. It is unclear what makes her travel or if there are alternatives to my current methods. I have found a compound that will continuously attack her nerves, but it is just a matter of time until she has developed resistance to it. Physical means remain the only alternative. She sounds beautiful as she sings.
It is unclear if she is capable of learning to control her fake gate, and if so, it would mean an end to her slipping away. Maybe the Higher Plane is simply preferable to this world, her soul desiring to be there in comfort but being forced back because of its tie to the body. This could mean she is immortal as long as her soul is tied to this realm.
Eve has yet to bear children; my research is stunted by her defect. She repents with her screams for each of her failures.
"Disgusting." You have never heard quite a tone like that in Vash's voice—the condemnation dripping from the word. This is the first time he vocally reacts to anything he has seen on the tablet.
"Yes," you simply acknowledge it and swipe, but the next text coming up is not dated after January 31st of 2456, but instead dates all the way back to 2446. You keep swiping without reading the logs to see that the following reports are all jumbled up, their titles probably got damaged and don't align anymore, and the attachments that might have been once added don't pop up. It's just more text.
You go back into the folder view to see that you have tens more text files to read, but instead go to the other media files. You open them and start going through them. You don't linger on any for too long; your brain takes in most information at a glance. There are hundreds of pictures of you, cut open one way or another; on many, you seem to be conscious; on others, your eyes are closed. It is hard to date them; you always look the same, with the only exceptions being some pictures and videos from the beginning of his experiments. The videos are mostly of either the doctor dressed head to toe in surgical attire or the robotic arms performing surgery, removing organs, replacing them, or just taking samples. There are videos of you thrashing on the table as you're tied up, screaming at the top of your lungs, praying and begging to die, with tubes and wires covering your body. They all start to look the same to you—just more and more horrors that you've mostly forgotten. Only a few new memories pop up, stemming from the tail end—the months leading up to the crash. The buzzing in your head is gone; you know, they were the machines constantly working around you, the robotic arms and devices. The screams are gone. There is no more noise pushing against your skull; the pain and discomfort have disappeared.
"How are you feeling?" Vash asks quietly; his arm has remained reassuringly around you all this time.
"Disappointed. You'd think that the man who tortured me for his own sick desires for over a decade would know everything about me... Yet he still didn't give me the full answer I was looking for." You stare at the screen, a list of chemicals and doses written neatly in a table.
"That's not what I meant." His voice is soft.
"Oh," you sound like you only now realize what he said, "I'm fine."
"Really?"
"Yes. Don't worry your pretty head about it," you smile at him brightly.
His eyes remain concerned and sad. He is shaken to his core by this information; never could he have imagined the extent of this kind of cruelty. He remembers Tesla, her remains, and the brief overview of her given on the ship's computer; it was enough to nearly drive him mad. But this was worse. Not only were there notes about what was done, but he also saw the pictures and videos of the procedures. All the pain, suffering, and death that one man caused. He doesn't have the right to fall apart at this information, but you do, so how could you smile and say you are fine? Your screams of pain ring in his head.
"At least I know," you say, looking back at the tablet. "I know how I became this way; I don't know why or what exactly I am, but I have an understanding. Maybe it's true that the Higher Plane or whatever held my memories; maybe my soul yearned to be there because it's comfortable; maybe that's why I slipped into madness, the voices calling me back. Maybe that's where the desire to lay to rest stemmed from. But now I am bound by more than just my body to this mortal coil. Maybe now that I know the truth and remember more... maybe my soul will want to stay. I have you. You feel like home to me. Maybe my days of slipping away are past, and maybe if they come again, you can guide me back like a shepherd."
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Chapter summary: The doctor continues his experiments to make Iris bare children, but human embryos and Plant cells fail, her body destroys the foreign matter. It is unclear if a male Independent would yield results, but all other explored options fail. With less torturous experiments, Iris' memories starts to return. Instead of adapting transplanted organs, Iris' organism destroys them and generates new ones. During experimentation the doctor came to the conclusion that her fake gate has the ability to rip itself even more open and that hastens the healing factor, he also theorizes that all of Iris' memories are stored in the Higher Plane and that causes her to slip into the other dimension, because it is more inviting and comfortable with all the knowledge there. This could mean she is immortal as long as her soul is tied to this realm. Years worth of information is missing from the logs and a lot of it is jumbled up. Iris doesn't regain many new memories from this, but the noise and buzzing in her head disappear. Vash seems to be more shaken up by the information than Iris who assures him she's fine.
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heaven-acustic · 2 months
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I was harassed online and now I can't speak to anyone
Just some brief notes after I wrote this all, that I may be considered contextually important.
I'm probably autistic. I'm not diagnosed yet because I've had bad a experience with a psychiatrist and I'm working through the trauma to go again, but I've had suspicions for a long time. This sub helped me asses myself and understand how to navigate life as a possibly autistic person, so it's why I'm here. (This is a throwaway btw)
I am fat. I know I am fat, I've been fat my entire life. I thought I made peace with it. I don't love my body so don't tell me to, but I'm okay with living in it and I understand that I should not, not enjoy life because my body don't look like the way I want to. I take care of myself, I love fashion and makeup, I dress the way I want to, I care about the way I look. I'm beautiful, but I am also fat. Also, please don't give me physical health advice, I'm not here for that.
Please don't say I need new friends and partner. Some of them I've know for a decade, we've been through worse. I'm not going to leave, block or disappear. Advice on navigating the situation is more than welcomed though...
Tuesday I was mass harassed by a community of internet men on Twitter. Although I've experienced harassment before, it was the first time they used my body to publically mock, shame and expose me to everyone. It was lead by someone with 65k followers on the gaming community. It all started because they were sexually harassing a woman, so I made a comment to defend her, and they proceeded to make many fat phobic, sexual and degrading remarks about me. They shared my pictures around (selfies I posted on my profile) to mock me, said dehumanizing things and proceeded to attack me until I was able to block everyone and close my profile.
It was hard reading them all, but as a fat person they said things I've listened to or said to myself my entire life. Yes, on a surface level I became desensitized to everything, it still hurts to remember what they said, but I know it'll pass like it did many times.
The worse thing was realizing no one cared.
I've struggled with friendships all my life and I thought (after almost 30 years) I finally had a close, safe relationship with people who cared and looked after me. Somehow I was wrong because close to no one asked how I am after this and I think it's traumatized me more than the comments themselves.
They know I'm probably autistic and have an anxious attachment style, they know I need reassurance to be okay. They've failed me before, but after years and many conversations, it's been a while they understood what I need from them (and what they need from me too!).
Some of them were horrified of what was happening and defended me on Twitter (just a like or a reply), but none of them cared to check up on my mental state after. What hurts most is to think that this happened in our friend group before (not online sexual harassment, but extreme harassment) and they rallied to shower them with love and affection, to visit them, to cook them meals, sleep and watch shows with them to distract. And they can't even ask me how I am.
The person who I'm most disappointed at is the guy I'm seeing, it's a weird long distance situationship, but we still deeply care about each other (we live different states; I was supposed to leave the country this month, so we didn't want to start anything serious until I figured out when/if I was going; but we talk every day, we travel to see each other, we met our families etc). He proceeded to never comment anything about the situation... no support at all.
He didn't check up on me, he didn't ask me how I was or if I'm alright or if I wanted to do something just to clear my mind. He didn't defend me, and I was stuck here wanting some sort of reassurance that he isn't disgusted by my body like everyone on those comments were. (He knew he was the first guy I had something with for a long time, after I understood my body, my autism and what I need in a relationship etc)
I know I am not disgusting, and those men would pick on everyone, if I were not fat they would pick something else to harass me. And I know he is okay with me looking the way I am... but somehow I still wanted the reassurance, I just wanted to listen from someone that I am beautiful, and they are just shit incels online.
So yeah. I'm just stuck here genuinely not knowing what to feel, my only response so far was a complete shut down. I've barely eaten, I've cried all day since it happened. I've cancelled all my plans, I left all social media, I haven't responded to him or any of my friends (just brief, souless responses like "ok").
I just can't understand how they could leave me like this. In other situations I've learned I had to communicate, say "I don't like that you left me like this, this and this" because they can't read my mind, but I can't fathom the idea that no one cared so far. I can't stop thinking I'm that insignificant to them. It's obvious behavior, if someone went through a hardship, you check up on them!!
My instinct is to just shut off completely and live in solitude for a while. And I hate that for me. I've done that before and it fucking sucks having no one to rely on, missing my friends etc. Specially now that I finally understood people and thought I had friends and partners.
Is it too much to ask from them to not carry on with their lives for a second, stop and check up on me after I've experienced a traumatic episode? Because I've had people text me the ins and outs of their days like nothing happened. And I just can't reply to them with: "Why are you texting me this? I'm not doing great, can't you see?" It's fucking pathetic. I feel fucking pathetic.
Again, sorry for the long rant. I don't know what exactly I want from this post, maybe some reassurance, maybe advice, I just needed to say this to someone until time's passed long enough to manage my life.
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ghostonly · 2 years
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Gentle and heartfelt reminder that if you are abled and got COVID sometime in the past two years, the brain fog, exhaustion, general fatigue, inability to think straight and move around normally, and lots of the medium-term after effects are things that many disabled people go through every day and will go through every day for the rest of their lives.
This isn't a guilt trip, I just want people who have experienced that to be aware so that they can sympathize in a way many others will never be able to
When we ask for help with things like our human rights and government financial assistance, it's because that kind of thing is our life, and we're expected to either work regularly to take care of ourselves, or get on disability, which is markedly lower than even the cheapest cost of living and prohibits normal work of most kinds in order to keep it.
As you recover and get back to something more normal, hold on to that recovery with both hands and cherish it
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limelocked · 3 years
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I saw that post u rbed about ppl saying dream should be put down like a dog and like. This fandom has such a horrific issue with ableism. Dehumanizing mentally ill characters, villainization of mentally ill characters, the thing going around where they call Techno "emotionless" because they think his voice is monotone—
Like it's not even just the characters! It's the ccs too! Like there's the Techno emotionless thing I just mentioned, the excessive amount of people who baby tubbo/dream because of their adhd/dyslexia... Then there's people who go after ND people in the fandom too?
I made a post about it a while back, and someone rbed it with a joke. The joke derailed the post into an anti-Techno thing, which while showing that they don't really care about ableism in the fandom, that isn't really the point. They made a joke, I didn't understand it was a joke bc I'm ND. I answered the post as if it wasn't a joke & got betrated for not realising. I'm ND. No tone indicators were used, there were no tags to indicate it was a joke, and after I told them I was ND they were like "well how was I supposed to know, NT people can talk about ableism too" because they'd. Automatically assumed I was NT so it was... okay to get mad at me for not understanding a joke, I guess?
But this fandom is unquestionably the most ableist fandom I've ever been in, and the worst part about it is that a lot of that comes from other ND people. And it's just... It sucks! It's really fucking horrifying to deal with! And it's slowly but surely making me not want to interact with this fandom anymore!
I just people looked at what they posted with a slightly more critical eye, and that ND people realised that they can be ableist too..
(side note, the whole thing about "dream isn't someone you can relate to/you're not supposed to relate to dream and it you do you're evil" thing is also quite a bit iffy, bc a lot of ppl w personality disorders — like me — DO relate to dream, and do so easily, and it's like. A whole villainization of us as well as dream and I just. /sighs)
yeah i get you, this fandom is just a whole load of oof wrapped in a bow, i just take solace in the fact that the block button and xkit exists so i can curate my own experience
ALSO cuz i wanna talk about this; the “were not supposed to sympathise with dream” thing comes from a tweet that ALWAYS MISQUOTED!!! dream didnt say we WERENT supposed to sympathise but that it was harder (iirc) for us to do so with c!dream and c!schlatt prolly cuz we dont see their side of things
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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years
Text
For the Romping and the Roaring- Part 3
My submission for Day 3 of @serpentfever's Inhuman Event!
Link to read on ffn.net (Recommended if you are on mobile or haven't read the previous parts yet)
Preview:
Dammit, this was all his fault! He was so pathetic, how had he let this happen?
The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he glanced up and caught sight of Borg standing outside his cell, staring at him.
“You almost messed up everything, you brat. I’m not going to forget that.”
The pain increased again, and Kai screamed, feeling his eyes roll back in his head as blackness swamped at the edges of his vision.
“Turn it down, I don’t want him passing out.”
The pain dropped suddenly, and Kai gasped in relief, tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t gone completely, though- there was still a faint buzzing emitting from the collar- not enough to be painful, but enough to put him on edge.
Enough to remind him that he wasn’t the one in control here.
(Full chapter under the cut)
Prompts Used: Chase, Dehumanized
Word Count: 9,206 (welp we're back to browser-crashing length again)
Rating: Definitely T, maybe like T+
Trigger Warnings: Dehumanization (obviously), Imprisonment, Torture, Attempted Murder, Drugs, Blood, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts (yeah… this one’s pretty heavy, guys. Probably the darkest thing i've ever written...)
Consciousness came slowly, as if the air around him was thick and sticky. A metallic tang filled his mouth, and his limbs felt weighted and heavy. Everything hurt, and Kai wanted nothing more than to just fall back into the comfort of sleep, but his head was throbbing too much to do so. Breathing slowly, he opened his eyes.
At first, he just saw more darkness, and he wondered if he had even opened his eyes at all. After a few minutes of just staring at the ceiling, though, enough light made its way to his eyes that he could make out the long, steel bars that made up the far wall. Shackles dug into his wrists, the chain only giving him enough room to move his hands up to a foot apart, and another restraint, around his right ankle, was attached to a chain a couple yards long that tied him to where it was bolted to the floor in the corner. His muzzle was gone, although there was a leather band strapped around his throat, almost like some sort of collar. The cell was completely empty except for a toilet in the corner, and a sorry excuse for a mattress against the back wall.
Groaning, he raised his hands and rubbed his face, slowly pulling himself into a sitting position. Immediately, fluid rushed into his throat, and he choked, spitting and sending blood splattering all over the concrete. Running his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he felt the puncture wounds and realized that he must’ve bit down on it sometime when he had been unconscious. Coughing up the rest of the blood, he forced himself to breathe slowly, trying to ignore his stinging tongue.
When he had gotten his bearings a little better, he squinted, peering through the bars. In the cell across from him, Nya laid sprawled out on the floor, her chest rising and falling steadily as she slept. There was a nasty cut across her forehead, blood dripping into her eyes. Kai tasted the air, trying to catch the scent of any other injuries she might’ve had, but the scent of his own blood flooded his nostrils, blocking out anything else.
Against the back wall of the room, between their two cells, was the other occupied cell, where Lloyd was curled up on his mattress, the ashy gray color stained red beneath where his injured leg was stretched out. His chains were similar to the ones Kai and Nya had, although a significant amount shorter, so he could hardly even move around the cell.
Forcing himself to jerk his gaze away, he looked in the other direction. A few more cells stretched down the hallway, but they were all empty.
They were utterly alone.
The only sign of life in the place was the thin crack of light from underneath the door at the end of the hallway. Apart from that, though, the room was pitch black.
Kai leaned back against the wall with a huff. He had really done it now, hadn’t he? Gotten them all thrown in prison- they were likely either going to die or be kept here for the rest of their lives. There was no way that Borg would ever give them any freedom again, now that they knew too much.
There really was no escaping this one, was there?
Augh, if only him and Nya hadn’t had that stupid argument, they would be safe, back with the others right now.
Kai wondered how long they had been here. Had the others noticed their absence yet? Would they try to come after them?
As much as he wanted to be saved, wanted Nya and Lloyd to be safe, he really hoped they didn’t. The last thing he needed right now was the others being thrown in here with them. He hoped they ran far, far, away and never came back.
Kai wished for nothing more than to be back with them now, to feel one of Cole’s strong hugs, or Zane’s comforting presence, or even to hear one of Jay’s horrible jokes.
Kai buried his face in his knees and cried.
He just wanted to go home.
A soft moan sounded from across the room. “...Kai?”
Kai lifted his head briefly, meeting Nya’s tired, scared expression. “What?”
“What happened? Where are we?”
“Borg found us. He’s keeping us prisoner.” He lowered his face back into his knees, not even having the strength to hold his neck up anymore.
“Have you seen him yet? Borg?”
“No.”
“Have you spoken to anyone yet? Has anyone come down here?”
“No.”
Sensing the frustration in his tone, Nya fell silent. He heard the rattle of chains as she paced around the cell. For a long time, that was the only sound he heard, and after a while, he laid, face up, on his mattress, the sound of the chains the only thing reminding him that he wasn’t alone down here.
It could’ve been minutes or hours later when a noise sounded from the other side of the room. Kai sat up, glaring.
The door on the far end swung open, and light washed into the room. Kai threw his arms over his face, hissing at the brightness of it. After only a moment, though, the light faded, and Kai lowered his arms to see the door had been shut again. Flashlights clicked on, shining down the hall, and Kai squinted, catching sight of two trainers, and a vet, none of whose names Kai could remember.
With them, was Borg.
Nya growled at him, gripping the bars of her cell. “What do you want with us?”
“What I wanted was for you to do as you were told,” Borg told her, shining the light in her eyes, “but you just had to go and mess that up, didn’t you.”
Nya blinked furiously at the harsh light, but didn’t back down. “You wanted us to stand by and do nothing as you killed Lloyd?”
“Certain words are not meant for certain ears, dear. You two shouldn’t have been there that night. You really did make things much, much more complicated than they needed to be.”
“Why did you do it,” Kai snapped. “Why did you ever shelter us in the first place if all you were going to do was kill us?”
“Not you,” Borg corrected. “Only the boy. He messed everything up. The rest of you were supposed to be incredibly useful.”
“Stop dodging the question.”
“Boy, I am not dodging anything.” He turned his flashlight’s beam on Kai, his face suddenly looking a lot more threatening than Kai had ever seen it. “You are the one avoiding the truth here. I didn’t ‘take you in’ from anywhere. I made you. You and your mutant friends are nothing more than a lab experiment.”
Kai fell back from the bars, breathing out heavily. He heard Nya gasp, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t look at anything, just at the ground.
“The truth stings, doesn’t it? You aren’t anything special, you aren’t unique. You were merely a trial for what is to come.”
“A trial for what?” Nya growled.
“You and your friends have been plenty useful. You have been resources to study, to sample DNA from, a test to see if we could contain you before we started making the others.”
Kai blinked. “Others?”
“Of course. You and your friends obviously didn’t work out- and you’re all too far gone now.”
“I don’t understand,” Kai asked. “Why do you want more… more people like us? You obviously don’t care about us.”
“I care about what you can do. Imagine the potential- a legion of seemingly normal people, such as yourself- who can, in the blink of an eye, transform into an army of great beasts! People who could fly, who could cross great distances in the blink of an eye, those who could hear our enemies coming from a mile away, or who could wield the strength of ten men. I’d be unstoppable!”
Kai and Nya exchanged horrified glances. “You’re building an army? What for?”
“Kai, my dear boy. Borg Industries is powerful, but we cannot do whatever we please. We still have so many regulations, limitations, and surveillance. Biotechnology, such as what we have developed, could change the world. But the world is deeply rooted in tradition, afraid of change. They would shun us, sue us for our groundbreaking discoveries, when we deserved to be praised and cheered for. What we need is more power. And power never comes for free. True power is only won through brute force.”
“You’ll never get anyone to comply with that,” Kai hissed. “We’re not objects, we’re living, breathing beings. You can’t just bend that to your will.”
“Oh, but we will. In time, anything can be controlled. We just need to make a few altercations to our future experiments. Something you and your friends have made incredibly easy by being our test subjects over the last couple decades. Your kind is really quite fascinating, you know.”
Kai bared his teeth and roared at him, but Borg merely laughed. “See, the problem with you is that we made you too human. Too sentient. There needs to be some balance, of course- a wild animal is untamed, it has no master- but a human being has too many weaknesses, too many thoughts of rebellion and betrayal.” Narrowing his eyes at Kai, he added, “Something we found out the hard way.
“We got closer with the child- his instincts appeared to be less humane, and he didn’t cause so much of a fuss.” He paused, frowning. “That is, until a few weeks ago.
“I think where we went wrong with him was the species. An oni and a dragon- two of the most powerful creatures known to man- we thought he would have unspeakable power. And he did- but it was too much, too much to be contained.
“But he has been a valuable resource- we shall use what we have learned with him to create a somewhat less powerful species. This time, we will get it right.”
Nya hissed at him, and he scowled, leaning over and spitting on her.
“The child has been very useful, indeed, but he has served his purpose, now. We no longer have a use for him.” Gesturing to the vet with one hand, she stepped forward, the carefully wrapped parcel in her hands now visible as she, Borg, and the trainers walked towards Lloyd’s cage.
“No!” Kai roared, jolting to his feet and racing to the bars. “Get away from him!”
“It’s for your own good. This child could off you in your sleep, if he so wished.”
Time was moving in slow motion. The door of Lloyd’s cage swung open with an eerie creak, and they filed inside. The vet unwrapped the parcel, revealing a syringe filled with a blue liquid, and a long, pointed needle on the end.
“Don’t you fuckin’ touch him!” Kai screamed, shaking at the bars of the cell. “You’re a deranged, psychotic, murdering bi-”
“Please, Dr. Borg, reconsider,” Nya whined, cutting off Kai’s violent string of curses. “We’ll be good, we’ll do what you want, just don’t kill him, please-”
“Shut up, the both of you,” Borg snapped. “We’re trying to work here. Nya, stop your sniveling, we know you’re not on our side. You’re no use to us anymore- Kai, stop trying to break through the bars, don’t you think we thought of that? Why do you think these cells are here in the first place? I had them made a while ago, as a precaution. They’re specifically tailored to counteract your special abilities. Nothing you do is going to break them.”
“I’ll kill you, I’ll find a way out of here and I’ll murder you-”
Borg sighed. “He’s losing it.” Turning to a trainer, he asked, “Turn it on, will you?”
The trainer pulled a small remote from his pocket, and turned a little dial.
Sharp, stinging pain shot through Kai’s neck, and he yelped, falling back from the bars and gripping at his neck- which was when he remembered the leather band there.
“I’m not-” he reached out, gasping as he wrapped a hand around one of the bars. “You’re not making me-”
The pain increased, and Kai doubled over, wheezing, his eyes watering. “Ahhh!”
“Kai!” Nya yelped. “Stop it, what are you doing to him?”
“Handy little device your trainers whipped up for you. Human shock collar. You like it? Except these things can deliver a lot more voltage than the kind people put on their dogs.”
“Stop it, please-” he moaned. Pins and needles were stabbing into his neck, the zinging reverberating down his spine.
“Do it, while he’s distracted.”
Kai pushed back against the pain, rolling his eyes up so that he could see Lloyd. The boy was still sleeping soundly on the mattress, although one ear was twitching slightly. Or maybe that was just the collar, vibrating him.
“Lloyd!” He screamed, the collar making his voice tremble. “Wake up, wake up, they’re going to-”
The pain increased tenfold, and Kai choked, falling to his knees. He gritted his teeth, and they chattered from the vibrations. He wasn’t giving up, he couldn’t-
“Lloyd!”
The roar ripped through the room, echoing off the walls and causing everyone in the room to flinch. Lloyd jerked awake, squealing as he caught sight of Borg and the needle. Leaping off of the mattress, he darted across the cell in a flash-
He stumbled with a squeak of pain as he tripped over his injured leg, tumbling to the floor. The trainers and Borg surrounded him, boxing him in as the vet approached slowly with the needle.
“Lloyd, fight! Fight back!”
Lloyd hissed in the vet’s face, fire shooting from his throat. The vet cried out, stumbling back. One of the trainers grabbed at him, and Lloyd whipped around, chomping down on her hand.
“He bit me,” she shrieked, pulling back. “The brat bit me, I’m probably going to get like, rabies or something!”
“You’ll be fine,” Borg snapped, “just stop him!”
Lloyd hissed in his face, jumping from the man’s hand as he reached for him-
Just as the vet stabbed the needle into his thigh.
Kai, Nya, and Lloyd screamed.
The pain from the shock collar barely registered anymore, the burning in his chest so much stronger. Kai gripped the bars of the cell, rage and fear and despair wracking his body so he didn’t even know how to function.
Borg had done it, he had killed him, he was gone-
Kai’s stomach heaved, and he turned away, throwing up across the concrete. How could this be happening, what had he done to deserve this, what had Lloyd done?
He hugged his knees to his chest, sobs shuddering through him, teeth rattling. He hadn’t even been able to save one person, he had failed everyone, Zane and Cole and Jay were going to hate him when they found out their baby brother was dead and Kai had done nothing to stop it-
Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like he was going to ever see them again.
Dammit, this was all his fault! He was so pathetic, how had he let this happen?
The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he glanced up and caught sight of Borg standing outside his cell, staring at him.
“You almost messed up everything, you brat. I’m not going to forget that.”
The pain increased again, and Kai screamed, feeling his eyes roll back in his head as blackness swamped at the edges of his vision.
“Turn it down, I don’t want him passing out.”
The pain dropped suddenly, and Kai gasped in relief, tears streaming down his eyes. It wasn’t gone completely, though- there was still a faint buzzing emitting from the collar- not enough to be painful, but enough to put him on edge.
Enough to remind him that he wasn’t the one in control here.
Not that Kai really cared anymore. Lloyd was dead. Nothing mattered.
Kai wanted to die.
---
Over the next few hours- days? minutes? he didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care- weariness dragged at Kai, but sleep wouldn’t come. No, sleep would be too easy, too peaceful. Instead, he laid awake, staring at the ceiling as darkness sapped at his limbs. He didn’t move to the mattress, just stayed on the floor. Maybe the coolness of the concrete could alleviate some of the raging heat storming inside of him.
Every once in a while, he mustered the strength to crawl over the toilet so he could throw up. He didn’t know why he bothered. Being hygienic didn’t matter to him anymore. Nothing mattered.
After the third time, though, he had thrown up everything his stomach had to give, and when his insides kept churning, he just rested his head on the side of the toilet and dry heaved.
“Kai,” Nya whispered after a minute of this. “Stop, you’re just going to make yourself sick again.”
“I don’t care,” he rasped, his throat dry and raw.
“Damn that, I don’t want to lose you too.”
“We’re all going to die down here eventually.”
She fell silent at that. She knew he was right.
“You’re scaring Lloyd, Kai. Don’t let him see you like this.”
“Are you delusional, Nya? Lloyd’s gone.”
“Not yet,” she whimpered. “It… it hasn’t kicked in yet. I guess it must take a while until… anyway, see for yourself.”
“I don’t want to. I’m scared.”
“He’s here, I promise you.”
“What if it’s too painful? I don’t want to see him if I’m just going to lose him in a few minutes.”
“What if you miss out on your only chance to see him one more time?”
Kai was quiet for a moment. Mustering all the strength he had left, he slowly turned over.
Lloyd was sitting at the edge of his cell, staring at him. He was smiling softly at Kai, but his eyes were fearful. Kai tried to ignore how his ears were drooping, how his tail hung limp, and his eyelids heavy with sleep, one he would never wake up from-
Kai broke into tears, and Lloyd churred softly, leaning against the bars as he reached his fingers through. Kai did the same, although there was still a gaping distance between them.
“I’m scared,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Kai choked through the tears. “I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve any of it.”
“‘s not your fault,”
“It’s not yours, either,” Nya told him. “None of this happened because of you. I want you to remember that, okay? Don’t… don’t think about that, now.”
Nya buried her face in her hands, whimpering. Lloyd leaned his face on the bars. “I love you guys.”
“We love you too, bud,” Kai whispered. “More than you will ever know.”
---
Sleep found him eventually- that, or lack of fluids caused him to pass out. Either way, some time had passed by the time he drug his eyelids open again.
Squinting, he realized there were people standing in front of Lloyd’s cell. Sounds filtered in slowly, taking a moment to come through clearly.
“-don’t understand, why hasn’t it kicked in yet? He should’ve stopped breathing long ago.”
“I’m not sure. This should have worked. It might have something to do with his lineage, I suppose- perhaps his genes grant him extra immunity to fight back against it.”
“That seems logical. He definitely seems very drowsy and sluggish, so it obviously had some effect on him-”
“But not the one we wanted,” a third voice snapped. As consciousness came fully, he connected the voice to Borg. “Apparently he’s immune to euthenasia drugs, now? What next? This is only more proof of what I’ve been saying- he’s becoming more dangerous. We should’ve killed him right away, that first night, when we had the chance.”
“It’s alright, sir, we still have time. He’s not going anywhere, down here. We can develop a stronger serum.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“With the right blood samples from him, I can be confident of it.”
“How soon can you have it ready?”
“A few days, a week- it’s hard to tell until I start.”
“Fine. But it better work this time. Or you’re fired.”
“You have my word, sir.”
Footsteps echoed past his cell, then down the hall. The sound of the door swinging shut determined they had left. Kai sat up immediately.
“Nya! Did you hear that?”
“It didn’t work,” she breathed. “He’s going to be okay!”
“For now. How long do you think it’s going to take them to make the new drug?”
“If I know Borg, I wouldn’t bet on long. We have to find a way out of here before we actually do lose him.”
“But how?” He breathed out, falling back against the wall. “We’re trapped here. The securative measures aren’t exactly light. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
Nya was quiet for a moment. “We’ll figure something out.”
“I sure hope so.”
Nya turned towards Lloyd’s cell, pressing her face against the bars. “How’re you doing, Lloydster?”
Lloyd murmured sleepily at her, and she sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it didn’t kill him, but I hope it doesn’t make him sick.”
“Yeah. It seems like he’s just tired, but who knows.”
The door swung open again, and the two shied back from the light. Two people shuffled in, both unfamiliar, and Kai eyed them warily.
They were young, probably not much older than Cole. Kai was surprised that Borg was even letting them know that Kai and the other hybrids existed, not to mention letting them in their cell block alone.
The male stretched out his hand as he passed, letting his knuckles clack against the bars eerily.
“What do you want,” Kai snapped.
“Chill out, mutant boy, I’m here to feed you.”
Just at the mention of food, Kai’s stomach rumbled. His mouth watered, and against his will, he found himself leaning towards the man. He hadn’t eaten- or drank- anything since the morning of their capture- which, although he had no idea how much time had passed, felt like forever ago. He had even considered drinking out of the toilet at one point, but had decided he wasn’t that desperate.
Yet.
The man laughed at his expression. “Check it out, Em. They really are like animals.”
Kai clenched his teeth, surging up to the bars. “Listen, you punk, you don’t know-”
He was interrupted as his shock collar went off, screaming with pain as he rolled to his knees, frothing at the mouth. He heard shrieks from Nya and Lloyd too, but he was in too much pain to move. The rusty hinges of his cell door screeched as the man entered, laying two metal bowls by the wall. He felt his arms get tugged back, metal cuffs clicking around them. He wanted to kick and hiss at the man, hurt him while he was still within distance, but the pain from the collar stopped him.
There was a dry, rattling sound as the man filled his bowls, then exited the cell, locking the door firmly. Then, finally, the pain dropped away.
“What was that for,” he rasped, his voice still raw from the sudden shock.
“Couldn’t have you fighting back, could we?”
Kai grimaced. He glanced over at Nya and Lloyd and saw they had been cuffed too. “Why do we need handcuffs to eat? Isn’t that sort of counterintuitive?”
“Borg says you’re feisty. Doesn’t want to take the chance of you using anything that’s not bolted down to your advantage. Or to try and kill yourself. He wants to keep you around for a while yet, in case he needs to do any more testing.”
“You think I could escape- or kill myself- with a bowl?”
“You’d be surprised what people can do when they’re desperate. Now, eat up- unless you want to be handcuffed the rest of the night.”
Kai turned to the bowls, squinting at them. One was filled with a gritty-looking water that didn’t seem much more appealing than the toilet water. The other was filled with small, hard, brown pellets.
“What is this, dog food?” Nya scoffed.
The woman smiled. “That’s exactly what it is, sweetheart. What, you weren’t expecting a five-course meal, were you?”
“You can’t seriously expect us to eat this!”
“Would you rather have no food?” The woman asked sweetly. “I’m sure that could be arranged.”
Nya went quiet, but her nose wrinkled as she stared down at the food.
Kai sighed. As unappetizing as it was, it beat the horrible hunger pangs, or passing out from dehydration. He went to reach for the bowl-
Then he remembered the handcuffs.
“How the hell are we supposed to eat with our hands tied behind our backs?”
The guy smiled wickedly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, kitty.”
Kai felt his face turn bright red. They wanted them to eat from the bowl like dogs. This was humiliating.
But he was so hungry. He didn’t know when the next opportunity for food would come.
Leaning down, he scooped up a mouthful of the pellets. They were gritty and sour, one of the worst things Kai had ever tasted in his life, but at this point he didn’t care. He could hear the man and woman who had brought the food laughing and jeering behind him, and he tried to ignore it. It was this, or starve.
After he had finished the food, he burped at the awful taste, trying to suppress the urge to throw it all up. But he forced himself to lick the sides of the bowl, getting every bit of food he could scrounge.
The dry, salty taste of the dog food had only worsened his thirst now, and by this point he didn’t care how dirty the water looked, setting upon it with frantic laps of his tongue. He immediately found it to be much harder than eating. Water dribbled down his chin, so by the time the bowl was empty, his front side was soaked and only about half of the liquid had actually been swallowed. The man and woman got a kick out of that, joking that he had wet himself. Kai had never felt worse than this in his life. He would rather take the pain from the shock collar. He had wanted to go hide behind the toilet for the rest of the night, but knew that would only make the teasing worse.
After what seemed like forever, Nya and Lloyd finally finished their meals and the man and woman turned their attention away from Kai. The shock collars were turned on again, and Kai was once again helplessly paralyzed with pain as the man came in and removed his handcuffs, put the more flexible shackles back on, and took away the bowls. When the cell doors were locked, the shock collars were turned off. Kai forced himself to stay still until the man and woman were gone, but as soon as the room’s door was shut, he collapsed into a ball, hugging himself and shivering.
No one spoke for a long time after that, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one deeply disturbed by their experience.
Kai’s sleep was broken and feverish that night, filled with dreams of him, Lloyd, and Nya locked up in a giant kennel. Children kept peering in, poking their fingers at them and barking at them. They dressed him up in bows and made him do tricks, laughing and giving him dog treats when he complied, and zapping him with the shock collar when he didn’t.
He burst awake in a cold sweat, crying with relief when he realized it had just been a dream.
He didn’t fall asleep again after that, even though his whole body felt heavy with exhaustion.
The next time the door opened, he scrambled back from the light, hissing. His head was aching, and the darkness offered the only sort of comfort right now.
But he was ignored, four trainers walking past his and Nya’s cages and towards the one on the end. Instantly, Kai was at the bars, watching them carefully with bared teeth. If they tried to pull something again-
Well, what was he going to do? He was helpless in here.
Glancing over, he saw a pair of yellow-green eyes glowing in the darkness and knew that Nya was watching, too.
The door of Lloyd’s cage slowly creaked open, and a pair of trainers slipped in. Lloyd hissed at them as they approached, and they stopped. Slowly, one of the trainers reached out, and Lloyd snapped at his hand, and he yanked it away, barely escaping unscathed.
The other trainer grabbed an object from his pocket that Kai recognized as the remote to the shock collars, and Kai immediately shied back, trembling as he remembered the pain.
“Behave, mutant,” the trainer with the remote snapped. “Or we will not hesitate to turn this on.”
Lloyd looked at the remote with wide eyes, his ears pressed flat against his head. Kai had been in some of the worst pain of his life the previous night- or whenever it had been, his internal clock had been all thrown off by the dark dungeon- and Lloyd was less than half his size. He didn’t want to think about how hard it must’ve been on his little body.
Reaching down, the other trainer in the cell clipped something onto his collar, then unfurled it. It was a blue, leather leash.
The trainer with the remote pulled a key out of his pocket and crouched down next to Lloyd. He hesitated, giving him a pointed glare. “Remember, no funny business.” Swiftly, he unlocked the chain around his leg.
Lloyd bolted, immediately falling to the floor as the trainer switched on the collar. Lloyd whimpered, writhing, and Kai growled, “Stop!”
A trainer outside of the cage whipped around. “Be quiet, or we won’t hesitate to turn yours on, too.”
“Turn it off,” another one said. “He needs to have strength to walk.”
Lloyd fell still, chest heaving as the collar deactivated. “You’re not going anywhere, pet,” the trainer with the leash scoffed, giving the leash a sharp tug for emphasis. “So don’t even try.”
The trainers filed out of the cage, tugging Lloyd none-to-genly behind them.
“What are you going to do to him?” Kai growled. “Where are you taking him?”
“Your little mutant has proven to be quite stubborn,” one of the trainers scowled. “But our vets are some of the best out there. With only a few blood samples, we’ll have a strong enough drug, don’t you worry.”
“He’s lost too much blood already,” Kai hissed. “You can’t do that.”
“What does it matter to us if he passes out? The creature is of no value to us- in fact, that would only make our job easier.”
Kai roared at her, and a sharp jolt zapped through him. He glared at the trainers. “It’s going to take more than that to quiet me.”
“Careful. If you cause too much trouble, we might zap the little guy, too.”
Kai snapped his jaws shut, his gaze drifting to Lloyd, who was struggling to his feet as the collar tugged tightly at his neck.
“Come on, pet,” the trainer holding Lloyd’s leash demanded. “We don’t have all day.”
Lloyd stumbled after him, but after only a few steps, his bad leg gave out and he tumbled to the floor, crying out.
“Get up!” The trainer yanked on the leash, jolting Lloyd towards him.
“Stop it, he can’t walk on that leg!” Nya cried. “It’s still injured!”
“Then crawl,” the trainer snapped, kicking him forward, and Lloyd jerked onto his hands and knees, shuffling after the trainers slowly.
Kai watched him pass, his ears flattened and his tail tucked between his legs as he was yanked along by the leash, and felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach. This wasn’t right, it was humiliating and a blatant disregard of dignity.
He didn’t understand how he had gone so long in Borg Tower without realizing the signs. How they had always been viewed as lesser, as objects for Borg’s use. No one had ever cared about them. All the toys, the trinkets, the gadgets, the outings- had been nothing but a trick to make them feel like they were worth something.
Nya had been right. As soon as they got out of here, Kai was gonna let Lloyd be whoever he wanted to be, and not make him change for anybody.
If they got out of here.
Kai crawled into the corner of his cage and curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to ignore the depressing thoughts raging around in his head. He couldn’t afford to listen to them right now, right now he was just trying to focus on not throwing up. He didn’t know how long it would be until they next got food or water.
He was faintly aware of the shivers wracking his body, and wondered if he was coming down with something. He wouldn’t be surprised- he hadn’t consumed anything but dog food and stale water since they had been here, and had been wearing the same crusty clothes the whole time, too. There hadn’t even been a sink provided in the cage, not that it would do much to help him without soap, anyway.
Just another problem to add the list, he supposed.
It was funny how, before they had been captured, he had been so resentful and stressed about their situation, thinking it was one of the worst times of his life.
He would give pretty much anything to have those problems back, now.
---
“It’s been twelve hours since they were supposed to be back,” Jay yelped, pacing back and forth, his footsteps echoing sharply with an unusual agitation. “Even if something had happened, they would’ve come back by now, or at least called us.”
“They could’ve ran out of minutes,” Cole rationalized. “These damn prepaids don’t last very long.”
“But why wouldn’t they come back? Kai and Nya would never worry us like this, not unless they didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
“I know.” Cole ran his fingers through his hair. “But maybe they escaped. Maybe they ran and didn’t want to risk leading anyone back here.”
“I hope you’re right. If anything’s happened to them-” his lip quivered, and he looked away as tears pricked his eyes.
“Jay, it’s going to be okay.” Cole reached out, setting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to find them.”
“You can’t promise that,” Jay barked, flinching away.
“No. But I’m going to do everything in my power to try. They’re our family, Jay. Family doesn’t give up on family.”
“I know,” Jay sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “I’m just scared.”
Cole wrapped his hands around him, letting Jay bury his face in his shoulder. “Me too, bud. Me too.”
Jay and Cole jumped nearly a foot in the air as the door swung open, and Cole let out a breath of relief as he realized it was only Zane.
“Did you find anything?”
Zane shook his head. “No sign of them anywhere. I even asked a few of the shopkeepers- as many as I could without raising suspicion, anyway- by showing them a photo I had. A few of them thought they looked familiar, but no one was able to tell me where they went or if they had seen anything out of the ordinary.”
“We have to do something,” Jay insisted. “If they’re being held hostage somewhere, who knows what they’ll do to them.”
“What can we do?” Cole asked. “I want to do something as much as you do, but we don’t have anywhere to start. We don’t even know where they are.”
“Maybe not,” Zane admitted, “but we can make an educated guess. The most likely reason that Kai and Nya have not gotten back to us is that they were captured. There are two main parties most likely responsible. Borg Industries- and the Ninjago City Police.”
Jay frowned. “How do we know the police are against us?”
“We don’t. But we can’t entirely clear them yet, either. If they found out Kai, Nya, and Lloyd’s secret, they could possibly see them as a threat and lock them up.”
“But if hybrids like us are such a rare thing, the news would be all over this if the police had discovered them,” Cole pointed out. “We’re basically living under a rock in here, but you would’ve seen something, like on TV or somewhere, when you went out, wouldn’t you have?”
“Fair point. So we can most likely conclude that it was Borg that found them.”
Jay put his head in his hands. “Last time we saw Borg, he wanted to kill Lloyd. If we’re going to do something, we better hurry.”
“Where do you think he’s keeping them?” Cole asked. “Borg Tower?” “That feels too simple,” Jay muttered. “He knows that’s the first place we’d look. But at the same time, I have no idea where else they would be.”
“We can’t just storm the building,” Zane argued. “There’s only three of us. Even with our enhanced abilities, it would never be enough to get through Borg’s headquarters. If we even knew where to begin looking for them, that is. Borg Tower isn’t exactly small.”
“What options do we have?” Jay whined. “We can’t afford to waste any time. We have no idea what Borg could be doing to them right now. And, besides, even if we could wait a while, it’s not like we’re magically going to gain more allies or anything.”
“We need to come up with some sort of plan,” Zane insisted, “Otherwise we’re going to end up getting captured too, which won’t help anyone.”
“You’re both right. We can’t go in without a plan, but we can’t afford to wait, either. And no one’s going to have an epiphany just sitting around here thinking. If we’re going to make a plan that’ll work, we need more information.”
“How do you suggest we get it?” Zane frowned.
“We sneak down and scope out Borg Tower. We don’t breach it, just observe what we can from afar.”
Jay glanced at him skeptically. “You really think we’ll be able to find out much like that?”
“Does anyone else have any better ideas?”
No one said anything.
“Then it’s settled. That’s what we’re doing.”
“When do we set out?” Jay asked.
“I would like to leave as soon as possible, but it’s just too risky. If we don’t want to get caught, we should wait until the cover of dusk is on our side. I also don’t think we should risk taking the bus at all, and it’s a few hours walk to Borg Tower. We’ll leave here late afternoon.”
Zane and Jay exchanged glances, nodding. “Do you want us to do anything, Cole?”
“I dunno. Grab something to eat, get some rest if you can. I have no idea how long this is going to take. Pack up the bare essentials, just in case we’re not able to come back.
“Come this afternoon, be ready. We’re going to get our family back.”
---
Cole stared up at the looming skyscraper in front of him, his heart pounding in his chest.
This was it. They were here.
“Keep walking, Cole,” Zane whispered from behind him. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
Cole picked up the pace, falling into step behind Jay, and melting into the crowd of passersby around them.
“What do we do now?” Jay whispered back to him.
“Just keep an eye out for-” Cole stopped, his gaze drifting towards the front doors of Borg Tower.
“What is it?”
“Over there,” he hissed, nodding sideways in the direction. Two people, emerging from the doors of Borg Tower, whom Cole didn’t recognize, but noticed the familiar outfits of the caretakers, had slung garbage bags over their shoulders, and were heading towards the back to toss them out.
“It might not be much, but it’s as good a place as any to start,” he whispered. “Let’s go!”
Subtly slipping past the citizens, he darted around the side of Borg Tower, Zane and Jay on his heels.
He froze in place as the muffled voices of the caretakers came into view. They were close. But not close enough. He needed to get closer if he wanted to be able to listen in.
If only Kai were here. Where was the guy with superhearing when you needed him?
If only they were all here. Cole just wanted them to be safe. He didn’t know what he would do if they found them and one or more of them were already gone.
But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Now, he had a job to do.
“Transform,” he whispered to the others. “You’ll be smaller, and easier to hide that way.”
With a flash, the three boys were gone, and a badger, a labrador, and a falcon stood in their place.
Crouching low to the ground, Cole edged around the corner.
The caretakers were hauling the trash bags into a dumpster a little ways down. Jay dropped down onto his belly and wriggled under the dumpster in front of them, Cole and Zane squeezing under after him, with considerable more difficulty.
“-giving us a lot of trouble,” the voices filtered in as they got within earshot. “I can’t wait until this whole thing is over and done with.”
“Have they gotten any closer with the drug yet?” the male voice asked.
“Somewhat, I think.” A second voice, the female. “They’re gathering a lot of blood from the kid, which seems to be helping, but it still could take up to a week.”
“What about the older ones? What’s he going to do with them?”
“Borg wants to keep them alive, for now, to see if they can give him any clues to where the rest of them are. I’m not so sure, though- they’re both very stubborn. I think they’d rather die than give up any information. Especially the lion one- he doesn’t seem like he’s gonna last much longer. We can hardly get him to eat anything.”
Cole clenched his teeth, biting back the shuddering breath. So they had been right. Borg did have their friends.
And, from the sounds of it, they were running out of time to save them.
“Do you have the key?” The female snapped. “We can’t have anyone breaking in here.”
“Here.” There was a jangle of metal as the padlock was locked, and then footsteps came sharply towards them. Cole shrunk back, watching their feet cautiously as they passed.
“Why would they need to lock a dumpster?” Jay whispered.
Zane’s eyes glinted. “The only logical solution is that there’s something in there they don’t want anyone to see. They must be hiding evidence. We need to see what’s in those garbage bags.”
“Zane, wait-” Cole hissed, but the falcon was already slipping out from under the dumpster where they were hiding, and over to the one the caretakers had put the bags in.
Jay let out a whine, and Cole crept forward, so he could peer out at Zane. The falcon was perched on top of the dumpster, sticking a talon into the lock as he jiggled it. The clanking of metal echoed threateningly through the air.
“Zane, stop,” he begged. “We can’t let them catch us, we have to wait until we know for sure they’re-”
“What the- I knew I heard something back here!”
Cole cringed back, and Jay yelped beside him as the man’s feet came into view. Cole quickly shushed him. The man had only seen Zane. Revealing themselves as well would only make it easier for him to connect the dots about who they were.
“Shoo, pest, shoo!” The man cried, running towards Zane but still keeping a respectable distance from the large bird of prey. Zane squawked, and Cole heard a flutter of feathers that he hoped was Zane flying away.
“What’s going on, Jake-” the woman called, her footsteps hurrying over and halting abruptly. “Holy shit! Is that a falcon?”
Cole cringed. It didn’t take a genius to know that falcons weren’t native to Ninjago City.
“It’s him!” she cried. “The falcon. It has to be! Quick, catch him!”
Cole shuffled forward as the two scuffled after Zane, who was shrieking and squawking as he flapped just above their heads.
C’mon, Zane, get them out of here-
The woman jumped up, catching his wing in her grasp, and yanked, sending a handful of tawny feathers flying. Zane screeched in pain, falling to the ground.
Jay yelped behind him, and before Cole could stop himself, he shot out from under the dumpster, and latched his jaws around the woman’s shoe.
She screamed, attempting to shake him off. “The other one’s here too! It’s got me, it’s got me, get it off!” She kicked, hard, and Cole went tumbling off her foot, right in front of the man, who raised his foot to deliver a kick-
The man stumbled backwards as something jerked at his leg. A yellow lab was sinking his teeth into his pant leg, holding him back. Releasing it, he barked loudly, running circles around the man as he tried to land a hit on the small dog. But Jay was too fast.
On his other side, Zane was struggling to his feet, oblivious of the woman running up behind him. Dashing past the falcon, there was a flash, and suddenly Cole was five feet taller, and punching the woman in the face with very human knuckles. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The man cried out as he tripped over Jay, and before he could blink, the dog was gone, and Jay was pinning him to the ground with a foot.
The man’s face dissolved into panic as Cole approached him. “Please, don’t hurt me, I won’t tell them about you, I promise.”
Cole paused, narrowing his eyes at him.
“Don’t do it, Cole,” Zane urged, now no longer a bird, and sitting on the floor. “He’s lying. He’ll run right back to them and we’ll be captured before the day is up.”
“I swear, I won’t!” the man begged. “I needed this job! I was told it was such a great opportunity, I had no idea what I was getting into! I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Rich that you’re having a change of heart now,” Jay snorted. “You didn’t seem too concerned about us a minute ago.”
“Please, let me go, if they find me here and figure out I let you escape, they’ll kill me! I have a family!”
Cole glanced at the others. Jay looked uncertain. Zane looked angry. “I still say he’s bluffing.”
Cole glanced down at the man. The terror in his eyes was real, that was for sure. Relenting, he breathed out, taking a step back. “That may be so, but we’re not like them. Jay, let him go.”
Jay looked up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Slowly, Jay moved his foot, and the man bolted to his feet. Cole reached out, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before he could slip away. Pulling him close, Cole gave him the hardest glare he could muster.
“If I let you go, you’re gonna run. Run as far away from here as you possibly can, and never come back. If you rat us out to anyone- anyone, Borg worker or otherwise- I will personally track you down and find you. And I’ve got the best tracker in the whole city on my side, so I won’t fail. Is that clear?”
The man nodded frantically, his eyes wide. His voice came out a squeak. “I swear on my life, I won’t tell a soul.”
“You better not.” And, with barely a beat of hesitation, Cole released him.
The man was gone in the blink of an eye.
“I hope I didn’t just blow it,” he breathed.
“I can’t tell you if that was the right decision or not,” Jay said, “but you were right about one thing. We’re not like them. If he tells anyone, he’s the scum, not you.”
“I know this sounds dumb, but I don’t think he will. I just had… a feeling.”
“Feelings and survival don’t mix,” Zane snapped.
Cole turned to him, where he still sat on the ground. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.”
“I’m not blaming you, I just don’t trust him,” he muttered, pulling his leg closer to his body with a wince.
Debate forgotten, Cole started forward. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”
“Just pulled out a few feathers, nothing serious. But I think I landed badly on my ankle.”
Cole crouched down, tracing his fingers along his ankle. Zane flinched back, grimacing.
“Sorry. Does it hurt bad?”
“Yeah. I think it might be sprained.”
“Hey, guys?”
“Not now, Jay. Do you think we could-”
“Guys!” Jay cried. “This isn’t really something that can wait!” Cole glared back at him. “What?”
Jay held up a small, black device. Cole squinted at it, adjusting his glasses. “What’s so important about that?”
“It’s a pager, Cole. It fell out of the caretaker’s pocket. If she used it, there’s probably Borg employees on their way here right now!”
“Shit,” he muttered. “We gotta get out of here.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!”
“Cole, I don’t think I can walk,” Zane admitted. “You two should go without me.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Cole fumed. “We’re family, we don’t leave each other behind!”
“I’ll only slow you down.”
Muffled shouts and harried footsteps came from somewhere nearby. Jay whipped towards them, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hurry, guys, they’re coming!”
“Get on my back,” Cole demanded. “Now.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m going to carry you. Now, hurry!”
Jay helped Zane to his feet, and his friend slipped his hands around Cole’s neck, wrapping his legs around his waist. He had only just about gotten into place when Cole took off running, Jay on his heels.
The lab hybrid quickly overtook him, sniffing the air and leading them down a maze of alleys and backroads. He glanced back at them, his gaze nervously darting to something behind him. Cole didn’t even dare look back.
“Hurry, Cole! They’re getting closer!” “I’m running as fast as I can,” he huffed, although he forced himself to put on a burst of speed.
“Cole…”
“I swear, Zane, if you ask me to leave you behind one more time, I will punch you in the face.”
Zane fell quiet after that, but Cole could still feel his reluctance.
“Cole, watch out, they’ve got-” Jay’s warning was cut off with a yelp as a net came hurling through the air towards them, snagging Jay’s leg.
“-net launchers!” he finished.
“Jay!” “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I’ll be out in a second-”
Cole gritted his teeth, and kept running, even as he passed him.
“Jay, hurry!”
“I’m here, I’m here,” Jay called a moment later, already at his side again. “But they’re getting closer! This isn’t working!”
“Stop running!” A voice called from behind them, over a megaphone. “You will not evade capture. You are only making the consequences worse for yourself. Give up now, and you will be shown mercy!” “Sorry, but last time Borg showed us ‘mercy,’ we barely escaped with our lives,” Cole retorted.
“They’re right, though,” Jay murmured. “We’re never going to be able to outrun them! We need a new plan.”
“Well, we don’t have another plan.”
“I might have one. Keep running, stick to the left roads, that’ll take you out of town.”
Cole snatched his wrist before he could dart away. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m gonna distract them. Lead them somewhere else so you guys can get away.”
“Will you two stop trying to sacrifice yourself,” Cole growled, “For five minutes?”
“I’m not sacrificing myself! I know these streets. I’m faster and more cunning than either of you. I can get away, if I’m on my own. I have no intention of getting caught, trust me.”
“It’s too risky. We’re not splitting up.”
“But-”
“Cole’s right, Jay. We already are down three members, and it’s going to be a whole lot harder to save them if there’s only two of us left.”
“I told you, I won’t get caught!”
“You can’t promise that,” Cole argued. “You’re staying with us, end of discussion.”
“Then what other plans you got, badger boy?”
Cole didn’t look at him.
“Over there!” Zane pointed. “Down that alley, about one hundred feet down, there’s a path hidden behind those vines.”
“What?” Jay snapped. “No there isn’t!”
“Are you forgetting who has falcon-vision here?” Zane retaliated.
“Just do it,” Cole hissed. “It’s not like we have a wide range of options, here!”
They darted down the alley Zane had pointed them down, and Cole scanned the wall for anything unusual. “Where is it?”
“Keep going,” Jay pressed, “We need to get through it before they round the corner or they’ll just follow us in!”
“Right there!” Zane pointed.
Following his finger, Cole caught sight of a patch of vines, the brick crumbling away behind it.
“Jackpot, Zane!” Cole cheered.
Jay scrambled through first, holding back the vines as Cole maneuvered through more carefully, trying to account for Zane. As soon as they were through, Jay yelped, “Go, go, go!” Cole’s lungs were killing him by this point, but he didn’t hesitate to race after him. He would be stupid to belive they were safe now. Already, he could hear the angry shouts of the Borg security officers behind them, and knew it wouldn’t be long before they found the broken wall.
But it had given them a moment. And, right now, they needed every moment they could get.
“What are… what are we going to do now?” Cole wheezed.
“We can’t keep this up,” Zane frowned, watching him with concern. “You can’t keep running forever. Not even Jay.”
“We need help,” Jay panted. “We can’t do this on our own.”
“Who’s going to help us?” Cole huffed. “We’re alone. Nobody has our backs in this.”
“I don’t know, maybe we can go ask someone. Those are houses over there, right? Maybe someone will agree to hide us.”
“They’ll probably think we’re escaped criminals, bozo. No one’s gonna agree to hide some random fugitive.”
“Well, what other choice do we have?”
“I… may have an idea,” Zane said quietly.
They looked at him expectantly, but he hesitated. “Well?” Jay yipped. “Are you going to tell us, or not?”
“You’re not going to like it… but there is somewhere we could go.”
Jay threw up his hands. “We don’t have time for this Zane, they’re gonna find us any minute! Just get to the point!”
“We could go… to the police.”
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whumpingcrow · 3 years
Text
Ink Poisoning - Chapter 11
The Art of the Crash
CW: bbu and everything in relation to that, drugs/alcohol (explicit), noncon drug use, aftermath of drug use, vomit mention, food mention, discussion of noncon, dubcon kissing, conditioned/trained responses from whumpee, brief mention of suicide (vague), dehumanizing language/themes (let me know if I missed anything!)
Gio slept well into the afternoon the next day. Nicko let him, he knew from experience with Rory that there was an inevitable crash that followed the highs, and he'd spent quite a few days ignoring her sleeping body on his bed, usually it ended in her getting up only to vomit and then cry to Nicko about how shitty life was. So this time, with Gio, he waited in the bedroom with him until that happened. He finished the painting he'd started the night before. He had to refrain himself from waking Gio up to see it. Then he sat on the floor and sketched more, using Gio's face pressed against his dark pillow case and the dull light of sun through snow clouds dancing across his face as inspiration. He didn't draw the bruises or the hickeys, found himself strangely jealous over them both. He kept the tattoos, because those belonged to him, and Giovanni's adorable crooked tooth, and his messy, wavy hair that splayed out across the pillow and his face. Nicko couldn't wait for him to wake up so he could draw him with bed head.
When Gio finally woke up, it wasn't to throw up or to complain about the nightmare of his life crumbling around him, not that Nicko would've blamed him, but to the sound of some music that Nicko had put on quietly to help him focus, deciding to work on some long put off art assignments. Nicko didn't notice that he woke up, and Gio rubbed his eyes just a little and glanced over Nicko's shoulder to see the bright array of colors across his page, dark marker scribbling purposefully against the paper. He was enthralled for a moment, then he turned his focus up to the large canvas he'd caught a darkened glimpse of last night, and he gasped sharply.
Nicko swiveled around to look at him, eyes blown wide like seeing Gio conscious was jarring. It made him wonder how long he'd been out. "Oh. You're awake."
Gio glanced at him for a second, then turned his attention back to the painting. The painting of him, sleeping in bed, lost in a world of blankets. He pushed himself up to his elbows with a wince. "Is...is that me?" He whispered.
Nicko looked back at the painting in question, smiling bashfully to himself. "Uh, yeah. Yeah you were just...you look nice in my bed." He fought the blush creeping up his cheeks, the embarrassment was uncomfortably new. He didn't know why he was embarrassed, just that suddenly he was the one who couldn't make eye contact with Gio. The switch in dynamic was painfully tangible to both of them, with Nicko on the ground, cheeks rosy and face turned away, and Gio sitting on the bed, looking down at him. With a yawn, Gio pushed the blankets off of him and stood up.
Nicko watched him closely, surprised that he hadn't hurled already. Then, as if on queue, he closed his eyes and swayed forward, bringing his hands up to his head with a groan. Before he can tip over, Nicko is up on his feet next to him, placing strong hands on his shoulders to hold him steady. "Are you ok?"
Gio dropped his hands, blinking a few times before squinting up at Nicko. "Dizzy." He looked a little dazed, his face pale, and Nicko crouched down on the floor, gently pulling him down with him. Gio easily knelt, body soft and easily movable, as always. Once Gio was all the way on the floor, hunched over just a little to make himself smaller, as if he wasn't already pathetically tiny already, Nicko ran his hand up his neck, across his jaw.
"I'm gonna go make you something to eat. Ok? You wait right here."
Gio nodded eagerly, towards Nicko's hand, his huge vacant doe eyes gazing up at him through his curtain of hair. Nicko had been right, his curly hair was framing his head in a dark halo, and he had a sudden sense of urgency to get some food in him so he could draw him. Nicko smiled at him, patting his head softly as he stood straight.
Salem was in the kitchen when Nicko came out, and they both froze awkwardly in their places when they saw each other. Nicko nodded at him as he passed, opening the fridge and grabbing a bowl of fruit and a protein shake, then deciding last minute to also palm a bottle of water. When Nicko shut the fridge, Salem was standing a couple feet away watching him.
"He woke up?" Salem asked.
"Yeah. I think he's ok, just hungry." Nicko hesitated, they both looked at each other, then away, then Nicko sighed. "You wanna come? I think he'd like to see you."
Salem lit up just a little, straightening his posture and smiling to himself. "Sure."
When the door opened, Gio flinched upright from where he'd been leaning over just a little, looking at Nicko's sketchbook, at the cartoonish portrait of a woman he had been drawing. He turned to see Nicko standing in the doorway, Salem a couple steps behind him. Gio couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.
They both came in and joined him on the floor. Nicko opened the bowl of fruit and set it in front of Gio, but he wasn't paying much attention, watching Nicko's face apprehensively. He knew from observing that Salem and Nicko weren't particularly fond of each other, he'd heard them fighting before, and he was a little worried to show any attention to Salem in case it came across as disloyal. He couldn't afford anymore mistakes, when it came to Nicko.
Nicko sensed it, and opened the water bottle and forced it into Gio's hand as he said, "Salem was waiting for you to wake up like a kid on Christmas. He missed you."
Salem laughed awkwardly, shifting where he sat. "Yeah. It sucked not having anyone to show my lame music to."
Gio was grinning ear to ear at them both, but he said nothing. Truthfully, he didn't really understand what they were talking about, didn't remember what Christmas or lame meant, but he was happy to have them speaking to him anyway. Salem only stayed for a few minutes, then he told them he had to get to class. When he said goodbye to Gio, he gave him a soft pat on the top of the head, like Nicko kept doing, and Gio smiled up at him as he left. Nicko wondered why Salem wasn't Gio's favorite. He was at least nice.
Once he was gone, Nicko picked up a block of fruit, mango maybe, and gently coaxed it into Gio's mouth since he hadn't eaten any yet. Then he reached for his sketch book and his pencils, moving so he was squared up to Gio, who looked a little nervous when Nicko's pencil started scratching across the paper.
"So you were with Rory, huh?" Nicko asked. He kept his tone light, he knew that Gio was anxious enough around him already, could see his face get a little more horrified every time Nicko's voice was a little too loud, too harsh.
He nodded stiffly, only once, then moved very slowly to eat a strawberry. He knew Nicko was drawing him, he was trying to be as still as he could be. He was too cute.
"And how was that?"
Nicko thought he heard Giovanni huff in disdain at the question, and he looked up to see his face screwed up in a tight frown, like it pained him to think about. Nicko sighed, then kept drawing.
"You can tell me as much or as little as you want, Gio. It's just...you don't look too good. I just want to know how she hurt you so I can help." His pencil froze on the paper when Gio reached up and covered his eyes for a second, then he hastily dropped them back to his lap like he remembered he was supposed to be sitting still.
"She told me she was gonna bring me back," he whispered, voice trembling painfully as he thought back to that day, how stupid he was, "she wouldn't tell me where we were going, but she just kept saying she would bring me back before anyone noticed I was gone."
"Ben called me right after you left, I think."
Gio frowned at him. The entire time he'd been wishing that Ben would come out and stop Rory from taking him, and he had called Nicko right after he left? Why did he wait? Gio bit back his frustrated tears, then continued on.
"We went to this guys house. Oscar." Gio flinched as the name passed his lips, then shook his head to himself. "The entire time we were driving she was drinking and smoking, and so I was too. I tripped at some point and made my nose bleed, so he let us in so Rory could clean me off. Then she was talking about...about buying something. From Oscar."
Nicko knew the name, he'd met him only once before, but he knew that he was huge and even more of an asshole than Nicko was. He was the one Rory always went to for her hard shit, which Nicko hated so he hadn't accompanied her after the first time. He stopped drawing altogether, setting his sketchbook down and moving closer to Gio, who was now shaking all over.
"She didn't have enough money, I guess, and uh...um." He couldn't look at Nicko anymore, turning his head away from him completely. He couldn't bare to see Nicko's face when he admitted to the horrible, unfaithful things he did. Giovanni knew he belonged to Nicko and only Nicko, and he was absolutely disgusted in himself for having allowed Oscar or Rory or the motel owner or any of the others to do what they did to him. "He wanted her t-to pay a different way."
"Oh, shit, Gio."
"Only she didn't want to," he continued, "and she was scared, and I didn't want her to be scared so...so when she asked me to do it instead, I-I did."
Nicko was stunned into silence, eyes instinctively dropping to the mess of hickeys all over Gio's frail neck. It was heartbreaking, thinking of Gio feeling the need to protect Rory like that, especially when he was the one that needed protection. It was even more heartbreaking to think of him under Oscar, who Nicko had no doubt had ripped Gio to shreds with their size difference.
Gio was only more frightened at Nicko's lack of reply. Silence meant anger, silence meant that Master was thinking very hard, something Gio was too stupid to do, and more often than not, silence meant brutal, meticulously planned punishment. So Gio did what he was best at: he started to beg.
"Sir, I'm so sorry, I know I'm yours, I shouldn't have ever let them touch m-me." He looked up at Nicko, then his composure broke and he let out a tiny whimper before crawling over to him. "L-Let me make it up to you, sir. Please, use me, let m-me be good for you. Please le-let me-"
"Gio, stop." Nicko was flustered by Gio crawling right up between his legs, trailing his trembling fingers over Nicko's leg suggestively. But all of it was happening rather quickly, too quickly for Nicko to react well, and Gio was freaking out, for whatever reason, so all he could do was sit still. And what was this "them" that Gio was talking about? Had it not just been Oscar that Rory handed the box boy over to? He wanted to ask, but he couldn't form the words, not when Gio was on his knees inbetween Nicko's legs.
"P-please! Please, sir. Wan-wanna be useful." Now his hand was brushing tentatively at his belt, over his zipper, and then Nicko reached down and snatched his wrist up tightly in his hand before he went any lower. Gio gasped, snapping his head up to look at Nicko. He was closer than either of them had realized, now that they were face to face they were inches apart. Gio's eyes were glazed over with something Nicko hadn't ever seen before, something that made them soft and dulled down more so than usual, but simultaneously had a sad glimmer of tears over it. Nicko had thought the huge, spaced out gaze Gio did at him sometimes was his version of puppy dog eyes, but that paled in comparison to the way he was looking at him now. Nicko would never admit it out loud, but it drove him absolutely crazy, to have someone looking at him with such gentle desperation.
"Stop calling me sir." Nicko instructed after a moment of silence. Gio didn't break his gaze, he only blinked a few times, and then he nodded. "I want you to say my name, when you beg like that. Alright?"
Giovanni melted in Nicko's grip, leaning forward just a little closer. "Nicko..." he breathed, and that was all it took. Nicko dropped his wrist and took his face in both of his hands, drawing a small whimper from him.
"I don't want to take your clothes off or use you, or anything like that." He whispered, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against Gio's. "I just want to...try something. For one second. Ok, Giovanni?"
"Please, Nicko."
Gio held his breath right before Nicko kissed him, focusing on keeping himself still and soft and good for Nicko, but it all went out the window once their lips were actually pressed together. Gio had been burning for this since the first time Nicko had kissed him, but he was too afraid to ask and Gio always seemed to make him regret it anyways, so he didn't think there was much use hoping for it. And here he was, with Nicko holding him close, kissing him, just kissing him, and he was so nervous he was going to mess it up and not be good enough at it to make Nicko want him.
Nicko pulled away from him after only a couple of seconds, he laughed when Gio huffed in obvious displeasure. But he was calmer now, not panicking and calling him "sir" and saying all of those...other...disturbing things. So Nicko was satisfied.
"I seriously think you should eat, darling." He trailed his fingertips over Gio's jaw as he spoke, slowly pulling his hands away. "I'm worried you're gonna blow away if we go outside."
Gio sank back to sit down where he had been, picking up the bowl of fruit again and watching his hands tremble as he picked up another piece of the sweet orange-ish fruit Nicko gave him earlier. He couldn't force himself to put it in his mouth, knew he wouldn't be able to chew and swallow over the huge lump in his throat. Why didn't Nicko want him? Why wasn't Gio good enough for him? Maybe it was arrogant of him to think he was good enough, he should be humble, he should just keep trying harder until he actually was. But truthfully it wasn't hurtful because he thought he felt deserving, it was hurtful because he was scared. He wasn't good enough for his old master, he wasn't good enough for Rory, he wasn't even good enough to keep his old life. And he loved Nicko so, so, painfully much, he had finally found somewhere mostly safe and his master was perfect and if he wasn't good enough again then maybe Rory was right, and he should just give up, find a way out, like she said.
Nicko got a little freaked out at the way he could physically see Gio's crash start, he was a little unnerved to see his posture sink in a little, his throat bobbing up and down as he tried not to cry. He could see his thoughts spiraling, realizing that, damn, life kind of sucks, and it kind of always has and what if always does? By now, Rory would be a blubbering mess.
As if reading Nicko's mind, Gio started to sniffle, trying again to press the fruit to his lips, still unable to bite. If he opened his mouth, he might make a noise, and he just wanted to stop messing up already. But then, Nicko was sitting in front of him, gently grabbing his hand and taking the mango away from him, setting it back in the bowl for him. Then he grabbed Gio and pulled him into his lap, holding him close.
"You're ok, Gio." He told him. "I know, it hurts, I know, but I'm here, I've got you."
Giovanni let out a soft mewl, trying without much strength to squirm out of the comforting arms. He was terrified of the gentleness he so obviously didn't deserve, knew it could easily be used against him later. "I was so soft with you earlier," the warm body would say, "Don't you want me to do that again? I will, if you do this for me."
But this wasn't just a warm body, it wasn't his old Master, it wasn't the couple of guards who would visit his cold, concrete cell late at night long after training was over, it was Nicko. And Nicko didn't even want him in that way. Why didn't Nicko want him that way? "Nicko, please please u-use me. I-"
"Shh, Gio. I don't want to do that to you."
"Why?!" He sobbed out, fingers tightening into tight fists around Nicko's shirt. "Why d-don't you w-wa-want me?!"
Nicko gasped at his outburst, reflexively tightening his grip around him just a little. "Giovanni...I...shit. It's not about what I want, it's just that it would be, uh, different, with you. Like it wouldn't be the same as sex with a regular person cause you're uh...trained for it."
Just like that, the boy grew rigid and stopped shaking, leaning away from Nicko as much as he could. He just had to be reminded of his place, that was all. Nicko didn't want him because Nicko was a person, and Gio wasn't. Maybe Nicko just wanted him as something to practice art on, whether it be with the tattoo gun or painting him on a canvas or sketching him in his little notebook. As much as that hurt Gio, to know that he wasn't human enough for Nicko to want him back, he could live with being useful in that way for him.
"I'm sorry," Gio looked away from Nicko and up at the huge painting of him a few feet away. Nicko had done a wonderful job on it, he made Gio look small and pale and broken, like he was and felt he always would be. But Nicko had also done a good job of showcasing Gio as alone, swimming in an ocean of black fabric, isolated and untouched and useless. Like he was, and felt he always would be. "That was...out of line. I'm sorry."
"Gio, c'mon. Don't... Don't be all sad now. I do like you, I really do. I think you're the cutest thing ever." He reached out and grabbed onto a piece of his hair, twisting it somewhat playfully. "And you're a real good kisser, too. Honestly." Gio looked up at him, and Nicko grinned at him, trying to elicit some sort of positive reaction. Finally, Gio cracked a small, halfhearted smile, dropping his shoulders from how tense he was. "But I don't want to have sex with you cause it...you know, it means something different to us. You understand?"
Gio nodded slowly, forcing himself to take a deep, ragged breath. "Yeah, I understand."
Nicko leaned forward just a little and placed a soft kiss into his hair. "Good boy," he mumbled, "now eat your fruit so I can finish drawing you, yeah?"
The smile on Gio's face was genuine that time around, and he sat a little straighter. "Yes, Nicko." So Gio sat still, he watched Nicko scribble against his paper while glancing up at him every so often, and he ate his fruit. It wasn't what he wanted to do, but that didn't matter, he did it because he was told to, because Nicko wanted him to. Gio had once been told, in training, that as long as his master is happy, he should be to. He was seriously starting to wonder if he was broken, because it was seeming like he couldn't be happy at all, even as Nicko smiled at him over his notebook.
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mentosmorii · 3 years
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... okay but jokes aside, I do agree that there is a trend within the horror genre where hospitals are used as a horror setting due to the creator’s assumption that a neurotypical audience* will implicitly understand neurodivergence/mental illness as a grotesque Thing, as a dark passenger which corrupts, as a monster in and of itself.
*(to briefly rely on the limited binary of people being either wholly neurotypical or not) 
However, I think that hospitals CAN be (and are!) sites of horror when you shift from the assumption that the viewer is neurotypical whereas the subject* of the media is mentally ill or neurodivergent. 
*(if we are to define “the subject of horror” as “a horrifying subject” rather than merely as the protagonist). 
I’ve seen horror very successfully invert that structure, such as in the work of individuals who transform their experience in psyche wards -- a time during which they were denied autonomy by the structural ableism built into that institution, dehumanized by nurses/doctors, and worse. And again, that’s just the incorporation of neurodivergent perspectives into horror. Hospitals could also be treated as a site of horror from the perspective of how (all too often) people with disabilities are forced to choose between autonomy over their lives and access to care. In both of these examples, the comment “you can just... leave a hospital” is laid bare as not really being reflective of the reality many people face. 
Ableist violence can be the subject of horror without reproducing ableism, just as the flaws of institutions of healthcare can be the subject of horror without disabled and/or mentally ill people themselves being the subject of horror.
Which, of course, I say as: 
1) A call for us to create better systems of care based on recognizing the humanity of the people being treated 
and 2) Someone who, as a person with mental illness, understands the stigma of both being mentally ill and seeking help for mental health.
And none of this creates a position (in my opinion) that is contradictory — there are just... layers that need to be considered on many fronts. Also, none of this is dunking on the post or any of the commenters -- I loved a lot of the ideas brought up in that thread, tbh! However, I think that the comments from it can be used as a jumping off point for a really interesting conversation regarding ableism and horror, so I think it’s valuable to include them. 
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kiragecko · 3 years
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Reviews of Christian Allegorical FANTASY
Note: Christianity is a broad, varied thing. I can only write from my perspective, and it’s hard to describe that perspective to an international audience. Words have different meanings in different countries. But this is what I think about the various Christian allegorical fiction I’ve read, measured by writing quality, allegorical quality, and ability to make me happy. Your perspective may vary.
 Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis –
Writing: Y’all know this guy is good.
Allegory: Shockingly strong for something with such mass appeal. And deeper than you thought as a kid. Never sidelines the story, because he’s integrated the two so well.
Problems: So, you don’t notice the colonialism, racism, classism, sexism, and mild ableism as a kid. Dude was a white British man during the early and mid 1900s. He does not entirely rise above his culture. Some of the dehumanization of species/cultures that are obvious stand-ins for real world cultures horrified me during my latest reread. And it’s subtle enough that it’s hard to point out to kids.
Story: The story is great. I’ve read ‘The Horse And His Boy’ so many times that my papa’s copy is held together with tape. He wouldn’t let me take them when I moved out. Had to buy my own. It was tragic.
 The Archives of Anthropos, by John White –
Writing: Reminds me of Terry Brooks, a little. In that the writing is servicable, and some of the fantasy is pretty derivative, but it’s definitely not bad. The roots are strong, but he didn’t have enough experience to cut all the weaker bits and ruthlessly rewrite.
Allegory: Solid. Not tacked on, not super deep. Really good for a Narnia imitation.
Problems: Not sure, haven’t reread in a while. Pika didn’t like a battle near the beginning, so we had to stop.
Story: It’s set in Winnipeg!!! Unashamed about being heavily inspired by Narnia, this series is a delight. Not as good as it’s inspiration, of course, but it feels like a heartfelt fan letter. Some of the ideas are REALLY cool. This series is worth reading, you guys! Especially the first 2 books.
 The Circle (Black, Red, and White), by Ted Dekker –
Writing: Readable. Slick. Masculine.
Allegory: Lacked both the desired subtly and the necessary depth. Felt like it was written for fantasy fans that felt guilty about reading secular books, rather than to say something important.
Story: Don’t like Narnia-esque books aimed at adults. Allegories shouldn’t be trying to be cool. Not a fan. (But please note that these opinions were formed 15-20 years ago. I may have been missing something.)
 The Space Trilogy, by C.S. Lewis –
Writing: Again, this is C.S. Lewis. He’s good at writing.
Allegory: A little weird, for me. But I struggle with allegory for adults. One of the books is Adam and Eve on Venus, with original sin working slightly differently? I don’t get it.
Problems: My problem is that I don’t like it! Sometimes it reads like Douglas Adams, but not funny. That makes no sense!
Story: Don’t like Narnia-esque books aimed at adults, even if they’re written by the authour of Narnia. This is Sci-Fi. There is romance. Really not for me.
 The Story of the Other Wise Man, by Henry Van Dyke –
Writing: Good, if I remember correctly. Feels dated and classic, like it should be from Victorian times. (I just checked, it’s from 1895.)
Allegory: Like most morality from more than a century ago, it reads a bit weird. Just, life was a lot harsher then. Nice clear simple message, just taught from a mindset I don’t totally understand.
Story: As a kid, this one made me SAD! He loses everything and feels like a failure! Does have a good message, teaching is sound, good storytelling, but it wasn’t fun enough to make the lesson stick.
 Left Behind, by Tim Lahaye and Jerry B. Jenkins -
Writing: I remember the writing being fine. They read like thrillers, which isn’t a bad thing. I’ve enjoyed some thrillers.
Allegory: Revelations is ALREADY an allegory. This is just an uninspired expansion.
Problems: Everything.
Story: I hate apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic stories. This series wasn’t written by someone who was bothered by the suffering of everyone who made ‘wrong’ choices, and that makes it hollow and awful. ‘We’re so good and smart and better than other people!’ NO. That is not Christianity.
 A Wrinkle In Time, by Madeleine L’Engle –
I still don’t get how this series is Christian?? Really freaked me out as a kid. Had quite a few nightmares.
After a little research, it turns out that she has a very different understanding of Christianity then me. You’ll have to get a review from someone who can see from that perspective.
 Duncton Wood, by William Horwood –
Writing: Extremely good. Heavy and beautiful. Kept me reading as I got more and more weirded out.
Allegory: Not a Christian allegory. And yet Christian enough, in a weird Anglican(??) way, to make it difficult to interpret as non-Christian. There’s a Jesus figure who gets martyred. There are schisms. It’s weird.
Problems: Almost certainly shouldn’t be on this list, yet I spent half an hour searching for it because I was so sure it was supposed to be on this list.
Story: Moles and their experiences with religion. There are similarities to Watership Down and Redwall, Narnia and Lord of the Rings. (The last mostly in language/writing style). If it wasn’t so close to Christian allegory as to be in the uncanny valley, I would have loved it! As it is, I would have prefered LESS Christ.
 Christian ALLEGORICAL Fantasy
The Pilgrim’s Progress, by Paul Bunyan –
Writing: (Note: I’ve only read versions rewritten for kids. At least one was heavily abridged.) This was written in 1678. That is a LONG time ago. The worldview is really different from ours. Also, the versions I read were not inspired updates.
Allegory: This was written only 100 years after the Protestant Reformation. Punishments are incredibly disproportionate. Rich people have completely different rules than the poor, and this is seen as Godly. It’s been over 20 years since I read this book, and I don’t remember much, but it’s a weird read if you’re expecting modern concepts of right and wrong.
Story: Fascinating! Did not enjoy. Might as an adult. Reading an allegory that you can’t relate to at all is a weird experience.
 Hind’s Feet On High Places, by Hannah Hunnard -
Writing: (Note: I’ve only read the version rewritten for kids.) Writing is really good.
Allegory: Names that are just English words have always annoyed me. Other than that pet peeve, this is extremely good. Straight-forward enough to be read to a 7 year old, complex enough for me to reference when I’m trying to describe my experiences to my husband. Solid Christianity, with enough hard stuff to challenge you, while still managing to be fun.
Problems: We’ve got some nasty ableism baked into the setting (disability as metaphor for sin and bondage), and the images are painfully white.
Story: I love this book! This is a Pilgrim’s Progress that actually matches with Christianity as I understand it. If you’re looking for a fun fantasy with a good message, this isn’t it. If you’re looking for a distillation of Christianity, told as a story because that makes it more accessible – this is a good one.
 The Divine Comedy, by Dante Alighieri –
Haven’t read it.
 Tales of the Kingdom, by David and Karen Mains -
Writing: The first collection of stories is really strong. The next 2 get weaker. Short stories read differently than novels, and the writing style works well for that format.
Allegory: TOO strong. Some of the stories still make me mad to think about, because the messages are HARD. (Also, names that are just English words still annoy me, no matter now much I love the series.)
Problems: Ableism – true selves don’t have disabilities and are always beautiful. Art is not 100% white, but all the most beautiful people seem to be. And I love lizards far too much to handle the dragon story.
Story: These stories mean a lot to me. They are very much not something a non-believer is going to enjoy. They tend to focus on the parts of Christianity that are hard, uncomfortable, and/or different from mainstream culture. They also stick with you for decades. Narnia is my favourite series on this list to read, but Tales of the Kingdom might be the best for exploring your faith. Highly, highly recommend.
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