“I hypothesized that users who had been in fandom for a very long time (more than ten years according to my usage bin) would have a different perception of the words wank and squick and even make a distinction between the use of these words and the use of discourse and trigger. After all, wank and squick are fandom terms that have been in use since LiveJournal, whereas discourse and trigger seemed to have been co-opted from academia and are more used by fans who are relatively new to online fandom. Indeed, when I narrowed down the focus to Tumblr and Dreamwidth fandom, I found out that the Dreamwidth user base on average associated wank with “objectionable fan behavior,” whereas the Tumblr user base preferred “written or spoken communication or debate,” which was also their average definition for the word discourse. Similarly, for the word squick the average definition from a user on Tumblr was “something I dislike.” Its treatment of the word trigger as either “a deep-seated visceral turnoff” or “something I am uncomfortable creating or consuming” is similar to the Dreamwidth definitions of the word squick. Finally, the preference questions on the survey showed statistically significant differences in the lexical choices for each platform, as Tumblr on average preferred discourse and trigger over wank and squick, and Dreamwidth preferred it vice versa. This significant lexical difference between Tumblr and Dreamwidth users seems to support the theory of a cultural shift between old and new fandom.”
So, my first real Castlevania thought that makes itself into a post is about Trevor.
I already thought the conversation between Trevor and Sypha’s grandfather / the elderly Speaker was interesting in how they mutually had a point. Trevor’s comment about how evil flourishes because normal people stand by is met by the fact that those bystanders aren’t just doing this because of comfort- they’re afraid and they’re being manipulated. That doesn’t absolve them of all culpability- during Lisa’s execution we see common people reacting with joy, relief, happiness, and in Gresit, the bishop’s aides were very easily able to use the common people as their execution weapon against the Speakers.
However, that line gets some very interesting new context during the scene when Trevor whips those same people into a demon-slaying militia in minutes.
Because frankly, all along, under the apathy Trevor feigns, there’s this fact that he’s incredibly interpersonally attuned. He pays attention to people. Even when he limps into Gresit looking for food, the first thing he does in the marketplace is get a high vantage point and look over everything, and then we get an extended montage of him not even talking to people as much as just listening– commenting where it’s appropriate, offering little of his own opinions. A friend of mine described it as feeling like a game where you wander around town and listen to the NPCs- and if you think about the role NPC chatter like that tends to serve, it says something very interesting about what Trevor’s doing. He rapidly gathers a huge amount of information that, for the rest of the season, he keeps acting on.
But the powerful thing this lends to Trevor’s remark about being a bystander is that what makes him effective as a leader is that he’s got a knack for seeing the power people have, whether or not they’re utilizing it. He skimmed a disorganized mob, noted a bunch of pitchforks and spears, and went “well, now, that could be a respectable line of pikes if you put them in order.”
He takes a group of panicked people- people who have been raided nightly for a while, who are not at their best and brightest, and gives them precise, efficient instructions that are very easy to follow. When he calls for pikes, he clarifies it quickly, before anyone responds in confusion.
And that’s even the main asset he plies against his enemies, such as the cyclops or the aide in question- he keeps tabs on what they’re capable of, what they do, and what they avoid. What does their equipment, their tactics, say about them, how does this seem to their surroundings.
And I guess the interesting thing is- Trevor’s charisma, his decisive actions as a leader- are actively built on what would at a glance appear to be a back-seat position. He spends a lot of time observing, tallying- often pointing out with casual remarks- and just listening, but, when it’s crunch time he already has a huge number of pieces to build off of. Putting it in terms of my archetypes post, Trevor is a really interesting case of a Paragon character who uses a lot of the tools of a Heart. At the end of the day, it’s his ideals he lives by (whether or not he particularly wants to) but he is able to compel people to those ideas by using impressive charisma and interpersonal connections.
Which is really interesting, because, he’s probably the last person who would describe himself as charismatic or leader material.
[ disclaimer I have not watched s2 yet and I do like to check the notes / reblogs so please don’t give me spoilers ]
Finally finished colouring my designs for KH!Sailor Moon Squad :’D I still have too much work on my plate to do a turnaround/detail sheet right now–plus i wanna do the other scouts too, just to be a completionist lol, but that won’t happen for a while longer :0! Until then, i hope you enjoy these!
Write a story that starts with emptying the wastebasket in the bathroom.
There’s a quest scroll in the bottom of the trashcan, under the bag, and I pause putting in a new bag as I stare at it. Since it’s being observed, the scroll changes and begins to glow with golden light.
“Congratulations,” a genderless, lightly accented voice says. It doesn’t make sense, but it sounds like it’s coming through the light, echoing and warm. “You’ve been chosen to embark on a magnificent–”
I lunge before it can finish, heart thundering against my ribs, and wrap it in the black trash bag. It’s warm to the touch, even through the plastic, but once I get it properly bundled, I can’t hear or see it which means I’ve managed to contain it.
For now.
I abandon my cleaning cart, shouldering the bathroom door open too quickly. It nearly takes out a high schooler lurking behind it.
“Watch it,” the girl snarls, shaking out the hand that had caught the door before it connected with her face.
“Be grateful,” I tell her, shoving the garbage bag bundle under my shirt. “I’m, like, basically saving your life right now.”
She scrunches her nose. “What?”
I don’t answer, instead hurrying towards the principal’s office. Sometimes the sorcerer or witch or whoever sticks around after planting them and I definitely do not want to run into them.
“Principal Flag!” I skid past the receptionist and kick the door open, arms wrapped around the quest scroll under my shirt. “We’ve got a problem!”
Principal Flag nearly throws her brush across the room at my sudden entrance, a blush rising furiously along her cheekbones. “I told you to knock!” Her horse hindquarters stamp in irritation and she hastily smooths her long, centaur skirt back over them.
“Sorry,” I pant, coming to a stop in front of her desk. “But this can’t wait, we’ve got a problem. I found a–a quest in the girls’ bathroom.”
“It’s actually a gender-neutral bathroom now,” Principal Flag corrects, seemingly on reflex. “The students voted and I think it’s quite wonderfu– did you say you found a quest?” She pales. “Was it–was it activated?”
“No,” I say. I carefully pull the bundle from out under my shirt, dropping it onto her desk. “I’m the first to come in contact. It tried to give me the Chosen One speech.”
Principal Flag’s hands hover over the black plastic. “God, it talked? Did you feel a compulsion? Depending on the strength, we could be facing quite the adversary here.”
“I don’t know.” I pull up the visitor’s chair, legs still shaking. “I’ve already been a Chosen one, you know that, a compulsion wouldn’t work on me.” I shake my head. “We can’t let whoever did this try again. A quest scroll ruined my life, our lives, I don’t want that to happen to a kid.”
“I remember,” Principal Flag says grimly. “I’ll be damned if I let some thousand-year-old warlock make off with one of my students. Not. In. My. School.” She trots around her desk to the cabinet. From there, she removes a black, metal box. “First, we’ll destroy it. It’s times like these that I’m thankful we have so many helicopter parents on the PTA. They practically give us the money for these.”
I watch as she opens the box. Dark, rolling steam pours from it and across the desk. When it touches the trash bag, the air begins to smell of burning plastic. Principal Flag picks it up, wincing as the heating plastic burns her fingers and drops it into the box.
“A CURSE,” the scroll shrieks from inside the box. “YOU HAVE DEFIED THE ANCIENT–”
Principal Flag slams the lid back on, locking the thing down. The thing is still shrieking, but the words are muffle and neither Flag or I are susceptible to half curses. Not since our childhoods.
“It had to be an inside job,” I say after the screams begin to die out. “You’ve got the school locked down and I would have noticed anyone sneaking in.”
“I agree,” Principal Flag says. She’s still glaring at the box, mouth a thin line. She looks back at me, grey eyes sharp. “Whoever planted it is a monster. There’s no way they didn’t mean for a kid to find out.”
“Giving quest scrolls to minors is against the law,” I say. “We could call the police?”
Both Flag and I stare at each other for a long moment. Then we burst into laughter.
“A Successful?” Flag howls. “Oh my god, can you imagine what a Successful would say?”
I wipe tears out of my eyes. Successfuls were people who completed quests, generally the light and fun ones that made good day time drama. “Oh,’” I say in a falsetto, “’I’d have killed to have a scroll as a kid. It’s such an honor. They’re starting off right!”
We laugh more, the sound verging on hysteria. Neither of us had the good fortune to be quested with a return the stone to the mountain scroll. We’d gotten something much, much worse.
“Oh, that’s good,” Flag says, dotting under her eyes with a tissue. She sobers slowly, chuckles dying out. “No, we won’t go to the police. I think that us two Unsuccessfuls will do the job nicely.” She grins and there’s something dark in it, darker than one might expect from a highschool principal.
I know that darkness is reflected right back in my smile. “I’ll get on it.”
There are Successfuls, heroes and martyrs who come back stronger and better after getting a quest scroll.
Then there are Unsuccessfuls like us who, if they come back, come back much, much worse.
“You’ll never make it. You’ll drop me before we get halfway there.”
5 times Hizashi carried Aizawa, from @ill-go-with-that-then ‘s absolutely amazing fic, Pick Me Up – literally a fluff fest with a bit of angst surprise, the surprise of course being angst, this fic was just the sweetest insight into my favourite trash-men’s feelings for one other and just
JEEZ
They’re a veRY TALENTED BEAN OKAY GO AND READ IT AND THEN READ ALL THEIR OTHER WORKS, legit an amazing writer please take my humble offering of art i am not good at words ever
Also, you will take my hc of Aizawa wearing ugly ass jumpers from my cold dead hands
There’s this guy that sits in front of me who you would think is a conservative redneck bc his entire aesthetic is southern lumberjack w boots and denim and hats but he’s actually one of the most inclusive and anti trump guy I’ve ever met and today he wore this hat that sums up his entire personality and I’m screaming.
Don’t judge a book by its cover; make cornbread, not war.
Hey, this is the motto of the Southern Foodways Alliance, and among other things, they have an AMAZING podcast called Gravy, which ‘shares stories of the changing American South through the foods we eat’.
You like this hat. Listen to that podcast. You’ll be happy.
Y’all need to stop being surprised by the radicalism in The South. The idea that Southerners are inherently more backwards is steeped in classism and ableism and erases all the awesome work marginalized folks are doing out there
Plot Designing 