don't get near me, I'll only sear your skin, in the state I'm in

And then, another night fell, a darker day dawned...



I am not at all happy to have you back.



I suppose I should at least thank you for the warmth...



It's been mentioned recently that I court my own destruction to reinforce my brand. Which is laughable, in one sense, but...I have based this entire blog on emotional pain. Am I truly surprised that it then keeps...cropping...up?

The question now is...how do I change that?



And I am so, so very tired...



Maybe I can push it back through the mirror. Think there's a chance of that?



In the meantime, this is where we are. Hagalaz, the rain of hail. The eye of the storm. Crisis, catastrophe, the emergence of the shadow to stain the light...The acceptance of the unalterable.

That's depressing.

Spun out to get here, spun out once I leave, the intensity for current pain inflicted, to ensure the lack of pain in future. And the chill in the air grows...Hagall brings it all to my door. With the tenuous hope of crops to feed the soul in future...if I accept the upheaval of now.

I never wanted this upheaval. But here I am again, anyway. Best to find more coal, the way this thing is burning.

At least one good thing happened today. It's something to smile about, at least. There may be precious little of that for a while...

an ounce of peace is all I want for you; will you never call again?

Here again. Every time. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but after this many burning wrecks ablaze? It feels too consistent to be casual, too fateful to be fancy, and...at some point, one must sit at the mirror and recognize the source of the problem.

And...I wish there was a simple explanation, I wish I had a facile description, neatly boxed and bowed. I wish I had an etched map to show you the constellations that led to this, the shoals that drew us in to crash at the shore. I wish for so many things.



But mostly, mostly, I wish I had that time I was told I had. The promised two weeks turned to two days and I was not prepared, I was not prepared for what was to come.

And I wish, I wish more than anything, I could explain what we both got wrong. Because it took both of our hands on the rudder to steer us here. This rocky landing was not accidental.

And we both forgot the rules, and lest that sound innocuous, they were rules clearly explained to both of us, to which we both agreed. We are both in the wrong. It is not just you, it is not just me, it is both of us leaving the path for the wild woods.

Never leave the path.



But the most frustrating thing, the thing that claws at my soul and pries open my eyes in hours indigo is--I am fighting, so hard, so very hard, not to fall back on old patterns. So hard to maintain necessary distance, and give us both time to recover. It is past pattern and it is born talent to make any situation worse. Because I am so, so very good at being kerosene for any fire. It is a gift.

I never wanted this, but it doesn't matter. I never wanted you hurt, but here we are. I want to rail at you for not thinking, for being laissez-faire with both our hearts and minds, but...I'd be screaming at myself, as well. Because I knew, even if I decided to ignore it. I knew and did it anyway. I knew, and justified bending the rules, then breaking them, because of the injustice of circumstance.

And you knew too. And you encouraged me anyway, because it got you what you wanted. Because it was easier. Because you had no respect for the rest of my life. Because because because, and again--it no longer matters. We cannot go back, we don't know if we can go forward, so we are stuck here.



Frozen in place. Relearning how to breathe without being locked up tight. Trying to dissolve that core of tension, resinous and thick, poured down my throat, the gelled frustration that locks my words behind clenched teeth and makes my hands shake.

I still have no words but pallid reassurances that yes, at some point, I will be willing to talk. That yes, I would like to accept friendship if it's what can be offered. That yes, I do want to see you again...at some point. Some point not now, when I can see you and not want...everything we had.

And yes, of course I miss you. I miss the conversations, I miss the heady discoveries day by day. I miss the sensations you were so very good at bringing me, of course I miss that. Gods, I miss that.



But no, that will never happen again. And if that means I cannot see you, cannot stand in your presence, even holding you at arms' length...then that is what it will take. I am untrustworthy around you. That is the galling, inescapable truth, painted across my consciousness. I cannot escape this truth. I cannot, will not, deny that I have failed to this extent, that I am this unwilling to control myself, that I would rather not think and just feel and vaguely hope there will be no consequences.

The consequences are here. They are dire, and they hurt, and I will be changed by both the knowledge and the pain of separation, but...that is what we are left with. This is where we are. The rocky shore, the splintered shale rocks to cut our feet, the stairs up the cliff that break and send us tumbling back down to the broken spaces, again and again. This...is all...we have left.

And it will hurt us, either way--traveling alone, finding the far distance, or trying to determine what path is safe together. When all I want to do is collapse on the shore, and weep until I have no breath left. That is mindless self-indulgence I can't afford.

And oh, I wish. And oh, I want. And oh, I hoped. And none of it mattered. None of it does matter, and I will not gainsay the one who brought us here. who forced the separation, because that way lies doubt I do not possess and mistrust I do not feel. But the almosts...the nearly-weres...those are haunting me.

Last night I dreamed I was in a large, dark house. Murmurings from voices, words I could not make out, drifted to my ears from distant rooms, but I wasn't looking for company. I was searching, room by room, drawer by drawer, cabinet to closet to cupboard, over and over. Searching for something I never found.

It doesn't take a genius to translate the meaning. There's no subtext. I suppose I should be grateful that it was frustrated searching over the feeling of your fingers on my skin, but I would have felt distress for either. And I know with great surety those dreams are coming, because my brain is a rebel, and those will bring me to very melancholy dawns.



And none of it matters. The decisions are made, the statues are toppled, the glass is shattered. We are now in the ebb of destruction, and all that remains are deciding which pieces to pick up, and which ones to leave behind.

And I wish. I wish. One more day, one more hour, one more minute, one more kiss...but wishes gain me nothing. I cannot live in should anymore, I cannot survive on unfair and not right. I cannot live...wanting what we had back again.

But I can live without you. Because I must. Because I have to. Because there is no other choice. Because my choices were made for me, but I was the one who made it clear those choices had to be made.



And I will learn to breathe again. And I will find the path again. And I will make my peace with things, because I have no other choice. And I will hope you don't hate me, in time, but if that's all you have to give, it's no more than I deserve. And I'm sorry.

I am so...sorry. But sorrier still that it's not just my ignorance. More sorry than I can express that you failed when you were given every opportunity to succeed. I will be sorry for that for a very, very long time.

And the train's on fire again. Maybe it never stopped. Maybe there were always embers burning, always seeds of destruction, in everything I've done. Maybe there was never hope in the first place. Maybe it was destined to go wrong from the beginning. And maybe, just maybe, you never understood the last time we argued, what we were even arguing about. Maybe for you it's always been about the push, the press, the rules that apply to everyone else but you. Maybe there was only ever lip service paid to respect, and understanding, and desire for more closeness.

Maybe he was wrong to allow you back. Maybe I was wrong to reach for more. Maybe you were wrong for seeing the opportunity to exploit, and never considering what it would mean down the road. So many maybes circling offshore, preventing departure.



Well, I'm not leaving. If this shocking turn of events is to teach me anything, it's that I know who supports me. I know where my compass points. I know how to get home, and I know who is waiting there when I go. Without judgment, without fear, with embracing understanding, and...yes, I would crawl through broken glass for that, I would walk through fire for that, I would give you up for that. At the end of all the days, that is my truth, and I will not walk away.

So, you're welcome to talk to me. You're welcome to ask me to explain, and I will do what I can. You're welcome to be a part of my life, in whatever limited fashion remains, as long as you understand I will not violate the bans. You're even welcome to be angry at me, to be hurt, to not understand, to rage. Those are all understandable.



But don't expect me to change the decision. Don't expect me to argue against it. Don't expect anything but acceptance that it has to be. Because I will not live in what if or if only. I will not second-guess what protects me, or who.

It will not happen.

And now, I can try to leave the shore.

(Pictures taken on the Sea of Greenhaven,the Vernian Lighthouse on the Blake Sea, Sea Breeze, the Chapel by the Sea, Las Islas and the Valium Sea.)

and I know I'll have to swim soon when the water gets too high

Before this conversation took place, I'd gone by my cabin on the sim, and removed everything that was mine. I had started to regret that move when the discussion opened. I don't regret it now.

Again, heavily, heavily anonymized, but I did want to try to get across why this had upset me so.

[21:10] Emilly Orr: [xxxxx]...the notice you sent out yesterday....I have some concerns.
[21:18] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: Yes?
[21:19] Emilly Orr: While I know, positively, I am not one of the women who are jealous, you do know I came into the sim as a thrall, right?
[21:20] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: Yes, and you're right... it wasn't directed at you

So, first excuse: "I didn't mean you". Also, I think it never occurred to him that he was potentially lumping me in with the one or ones with which he was angry, at least subconsciously implying that my status means nothing to him as well.

[21:20] Emilly Orr: But it was sent out to the whole of the group.
[21:20] Emilly Orr: I own myself. I have opinions. My will is my own. I am not chattel, not a dog, not a cow, and most CERTAINLY not a piece of meat.
[21:20] Emilly Orr: That was a Gorean manifesto start to finish. So I want to know why.
[21:22] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: It because of a continung problem with [xxxx].
[21:23] Emilly Orr: So why not just address [xxxx]?

This was my biggest question for all of yesterday. Why didn't he just address [xxxx] directly? Why did he send out poisoned arrows to everyone on the sim? Why did he make something this dark and ugly so very public?

[21:23] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: it was done in anger, Em
[21:23] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: I lost my temper.
[21:23] Emilly Orr: I figured that.
[21:23] Emilly Orr: But you demeaned every single woman on the sim.

I really don't think he's getting that.

[21:26] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: I'll apologize to you and any other who brings it up. I didn't even remember that you were a thrall.

Confirmed--he didn't remember I was the class he was putting under his boot. 'No, I'm not a racist, I have black friends.' 'Hey, I'm a feminist, I only beat my wife when she deserves it.' 'The only good Injun is a dead Injun. Cept for the bartender, right?' (That one I heard in person, a lot, when I was growing up in a small logging town.) 'All women are sluts. Oh, but not you, baby, YOU'RE not.'

He truly doesn't understand that he was exposing EXACTLY what he thinks about slaves, whether they're submissives in modern realms, kajirae in Gor, or thralls on his own sim.

[21:27] Emilly Orr: There's a basic disconnect here, is the thing I'm trying to bring up.
[21:27] Emilly Orr: Apologies are fine, but often times, in anger, while we may say things we wouldn't normally, they are the things inside us.
[21:27] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: please bring it up

I tried. I really tried.

[21:28] Emilly Orr: Even in Gor, most kajirae aren't treated so poorly. Even red or white unrestricted, even paga sluts.
[21:28] Emilly Orr: I think *maybe* camp girls, coin girls, might *possibly* fit the level of utter disregard you sent out in that notice.
[21:29] Emilly Orr: So how are the women in your group, and most especially the thralls who are not [xxxx], supposed to trust you in any way now?
[21:29] Emilly Orr: When all you think of us is that we're mindless drones with holes, just meat to take?
[21:30] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: You know that isn't part of my character
[21:30] Emilly Orr: No, I don't know that now.
[21:30] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: I don't behave that way
[21:30] Emilly Orr: You do. Read your notice.

To wit:

"You own nothing; You have no opinion; Your will is not your own; You are chattel, no better than a cow or a dog or simply a piece of meat."

I don't know how else to interpret that.

[21:30] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: I read it yes...
[21:30] Emilly Orr: But you don't get it.

I tried to find another way to get through to him, that this was larger than just a bit of sniping.

[21:30] Emilly Orr: Okay, let's take this from another angle.
[21:31] Emilly Orr: The reason I was on board with your system of thralls, free and nobility is that thralls were not just meat for anyone.
[21:31] Emilly Orr: They had agency. They had wills. If they were skilled in a thing, they could be paid for their services. They could buy out of thralldom, and become free.
[21:32] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: I certainly botched that one

Anger can be cleansing, but it can also be a weapon. I think it's clear which one it was here.

[21:32] Emilly Orr: What part, of any of that--which is clear in the histories--says "you own nothing, have no opinion"? What part of that says "chattel" or "dog" or "meat"?
[21:32] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: In our sim, none of it
[21:33] Emilly Orr: But you own the sim.
[21:33] Emilly Orr: Your word is law.
[21:33] Emilly Orr: And you think nothing of us.
[21:33] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: I had a situation that I lashed out in anger
[21:33] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: That is the impression I've given. I see that
[21:34] Emilly Orr: Yes.

Unfortunate that he only seems to see that now, post-notice.

[21:34] Emilly Orr: How are you going to patch this up with the rest of the sim? You took a highly personal issue, and made it public, in the most insulting way possible? Following it up with a notice saying "oops" is not going to fix it. How are you going to patch this up for everyone else on your sim?
[21:35] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: I'm not afraid to take ownership of my mistakes or blunders.
[21:36] Emilly Orr: This...[xxxxx], this is not a blunder.
[21:36] Emilly Orr: This is a complete violation. This is why people think you're Gorean.
[21:36] Emilly Orr: I thought people were just spreading rumors, but right here, this is why.

Of note here: both times I brought up Gorean practices, he dodged, refused to even address it. That also makes a statement.

[21:37] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: That's the first time I've have ever made a public statement like that.
[21:37] Emilly Orr: The damage is already done at this point.
[21:37] Emilly Orr: I asked if you knew why you did it, you said you got angry. What happens the next time you get angry?
[21:40] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: that doesn't happen often.. I wont lash out like I did.

He says that now. I...I don't think I can trust him now.

[21:40] Emilly Orr: I think we've reached the point of disconnection. You don't seem to understand, and I don't want to further attempt to persuade you.
[21:40] Emilly Orr: I do wish you and [Xxxx], and [xxxxx], all the best. And I sincerely hope things work out with [xxxx]. And I wish you all success with your sim.
[21:41] Emilly Orr: But I've cleared out the cabin, and I'm going to leave the group.
[21:41] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: I'm sorry to hear that
[21:41] Emilly Orr: I am, too.
[21:41] Emilly Orr: I'm sorry to say it.

On something this close to me, this deeply scarring, I cannot fight past this point, Withdrawing is the only option left.

[21:42] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: and I believe I'll be sorthing things out with [xxxx].
[21:43] Emilly Orr: I realize you were angry. I do understand that. We all do things that are unwise when angry. But this went far deeper. Maybe it's me; I do have past emotional trauma. But if that part of you is only active 5% of the time, that still means it's there.
[21:44] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: After what your said it made me think and I realized that it was mean of me. It was just plain mean.
[21:44] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: so, for that I am deeply sorry.

Again, of note: he's sorry now, post-notice.

[21:44] Emilly Orr nods.
[21:45] Emilly Orr: Accepted.
[21:45] Emilly Orr: Safe travels, [xxxxx].
[21:45] [xxxxxxxxxxxx]: Farewell, Emilly. You've been a marvelous help to the sim and to me.

So...there it stands. I've left the group and changed my profile. It is a bleak day.

In talks with someone else, a few additional things came up.

[21:21] Emilly Orr: First excuse offered, while you were gone: "Oh, I didn't mean you."
[21:24] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: i am sure he didn't, but not the point
[21:24] Emilly Orr: Second excuse: "I was angry."
[21:26] Emilly Orr: [21:26] [xxxxxxxxxxx]: I'll apologize to you and any other who brings it up. I didn't even remember that you were a thrall.
[21:27] Emilly Orr: He doesn't get it.
[21:27] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: *nods*

Then, a bit later on:

[21:32] Emilly Orr: I'm not sure I'm getting anywhere.
[21:35] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: *considers* It seems he knows he did wrong, but not why
[21:35] Emilly Orr: I was thinking it was possibly rash to clear out my cottage before you got online, but now I'm pretty sure I did the right thing.
[21:38] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: It is likely time to move on from it *nods*
[21:38] Emilly Orr nods.

I had already decided at this point, but also at this point, I was still trying to explain, as calmly as I could, why I was going to leave the sim.

[21:38] Emilly Orr: I hate doing this. Because he's really not going to get why I'm leaving. He's clinging to he just lashed out, he's a good guy.
[21:41] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: considers
[21:41] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: he might well be, but steeped in sl gor
[21:41] Emilly Orr nods
[21:43] Emilly Orr: One last attempt, though I have already told him I'm leaving.
[21:46] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx rubs your shoulders slowly
[21:47] Emilly Orr: So, he said the notice was mean, and that he's sorry.
[21:47] Emilly Orr: So...there it sits.
[21:49] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: it hinges on the sort of person you think he is, here
[21:49] Emilly Orr: I think he's mostly good, with a very dark side.
[21:49] Emilly Orr: I just never considered that dark side also had a cruel misogynistic angle.

And again, maybe it IS me. I have a bad past. I carry a lot of damage. I'm working on it, but I can tell when something's close to setting off a depth charge of anxiety and nightmares. This was close.

[21:58] Emilly Orr: I may not defriend him over this. I just can't participate in the sim anymore.
[21:59] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: nods
[22:00] Mxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxx: It is the right decision.

And one last thing:

[22:13] Emilly Orr: Okay, so why did it hurt more to remove the sim from my picks than it did to tell him I was leaving?

I still don't know, but it did. I guess because it felt more final.

But cue the sea chanties, and the ship sailing away. I'm gone.

when meaning's gone from every word

(( RP mode...sort of. ))



There are times in life where recovery demands change. I went to hide in the shadow spaces, to breathe in the fae lands, as diminished as they are. I needed to know the face I'd grown accustomed to seeing in the mirrors of Sakura was not the one I wore at present.



I feel frail, fragile, weak. And it is the greatest struggle not to pull my tattered shields around me, strap on what armor I have left, and pretend I'm stronger than I am. It is so very difficult to remain open to wisdom from the universe, to the things I need to hear. The things I would not hear if I was armored, shielded, shut down.



I recognize so few of the fae now. The Unseelie Court scattered to the four winds, and to this day I do not know where. Imprisoned as I was on the forbidden isle, I think I forgot how to even ask after those I'd known when I broke free, or was released, from the Queen's punishment.



But even the edges of the fae lands are healing. And my walls are currently paper-thin, ribbons of their former sun-baked clay and solid stone. I will heal, even if I have to retreat again and again, make myself believe anew that I am more than what I pretend to be. More, greater, a deeper presence, a stronger core.



And yes, if my gates are held open, there will be weak points in my structure. If I close those off, everything off, become a smooth and perfect sphere, no doors, no windows...well, what has no way in, also has no way out. And I no longer wish to lock myself away from the whole of the world. Just those parts of it that are currently hurting me.



In the meantime, the shadows will comfort me, when I cannot stand the light. I will reinforce what I need to, recover, remold myself yet again as I move through the glowing waters that were formerly home. I will heal and find comfort again in the mask I wear, for it is teaching me what I need to know about the human world, again. And I will seal off the access points I need to, to survive. Rebuild my walls, to grow strong again. And reemerge whole enough to continue.

After all, it won't be the first time.

it took the death of hope to let you go

I have been painted as wrong by others before. This is not new for me. I have been painted as cold, deceitful, ruinous to hearts and reputations, uncaring, insensitive...the list goes on, I'm sure, for those I've hurt in the past.

This also is not new for me.



What may be new...what may be very new...is feeling both the villain and the victim of the piece.

That...that, I think, is very new, and I'm still unsure of how to react.

All that I know for sure is that I cannot react as I did before--I cannot pull away, hide in the hills, shut down all forms of all communication and stay, frozen and still, until there are no thoughts to think that are not dead and dust. I owe too many for too much, and I am part of the world again. I like being part of the world again. I want to stay a part of it, acting within it, learning and growing and changing with its seasons.

So I cannot pull away. But the victim in me wants to hide, and lick her wounds, and heal in privacy; the villainess in me wants to build a tower, and climb to the top, and cast lightnings to the distant ground. Neither are the reactions I want to have; neither are the reactions I need to have.

And neither are the actions I need to take.

For now, I wait and see, wait for answers, wait for prophecy to tell me where I will be next. My path is clear; that I don't want to take my first steps on it is only my hesitancy talking, my wounded heart begging to hold back. Nothing is final until it's final, and...these days, not even then.



But some actions, once taken, are irrevocable. I want to be very sure, this time, before taking them. No more takebacks. No more hesitation. It's not up to me, after all. And all I have to do is watch for ashes on the wind, or wait for the roses to bloom. No more questions, then. Just answers.

And actions.

And my Hair Fair coverage sucked this year. I think I'm done with trying to feature every single hair seen, it's just not working anymore.

but still you wake and know the truth: no one's there

"Just because you miss someone, that doesn't mean you need them back. Missing is just a part of moving on."
~Mitch Cuento

is there a chance you may change your mind? or are we ashes and wine?

"The writing drought is over, at least for now."

Or, at least, until life went boom again, both on and offworld, my aetheric engine's main drive died, one of my RL partners had elbow surgery, and various other things went wrong or sideways.

And then...something else happened.

Hagalaz, the coming storm. Hagalaz represents the hailstorm, damaging, brutal force, but force that sweeps away what must be destroyed in order to bring fertility and life to new things. It will bring life, it will be a boon to creativity and growth, but it will do so through sudden, inevitable, unavoidable devastation.

This particular ring is through Silver Alchemy Jewelry, and retails for $57.55, exclusive of shipping.

I'm not going to go into that right now. I'm still not sure if I have the words to say what went wrong, and why. But I'm now dealing with the aftermath, a bare handful of days later. I'm picking up from there.

[00:48] XXXXXXXXXX: Well, if you want, you could come over here. I will promise to be a good boy.

There's heavier anonymity on this one than others, even though those who know me and the person in question will know to whom this refers.

[00:51] Emilly Orr: I'm...not sure.

Because so much went wrong, so fast, and I'm still unsettled, disturbed, uneasy in all communications.

[00:51] XXXXXXXXXX: It's okay. I leave it up to you, but I'd like the company.
[00:52] Emilly Orr: I know. And I know you have good intentions, now.
[00:52] XXXXXXXXXX: Yeah, I know, monster.
[00:52] XXXXXXXXXX: But I will do my best.
[00:52] Emilly Orr: Not monster.

Eihwaz is the yew tree, the spiritual center force. In a strong sense, it represents spiritual support, but it is natural support--the support of the tree's strength, the wind's power, the urge to grow and develop. It is not a rune to invoke lightly--it will protect and defend, but it will not discriminate between self and other, enemy and friend.

This particular piece of art came from Znachenie site, but I don't know if the art is original with them.

There's an unfortunate tendency with this person to polarize everything. It's not just okay or not okay; it's pure good or pure evil. Women don't have issues with him; they apparently hate him utterly, or are repulsed or disgusted by him. He doesn't make mistakes; instead, he's evil and a monster who causes nothing but devastating harm.

This is not the best way to live, but it's not my mind. I thought I was a black and white thinker, but he's proven to me that my world is a shifting, multi-hued monochromatic palette of opportunities and subtle inflections.

[00:54] XXXXXXXXXX: I will try not to be, at least.
[00:54] XXXXXXXXXX: Anyway, up to you.
[00:56] Emilly Orr thinks, then shrugs.
[00:57] Emilly Orr: Okay. Let's try a port.

At this point, he offered a port. I took it. My shoulders were tense, I was fighting to keep my breathing even. It wasn't easy.

After some initial conversation, we settled into single seats on a lounge.

Uruz represents strength and power, but without subtlety. This is male energy, determined to get what it wants, at any cost. Uruz is the bull, the aurochs, capable of quiet strength as well as rampaging, destructive power.

This particular pendant is sold through Wulflund Jewelry, for $12.13 exclusive of shipping.

[01:05] XXXXXXXXXX leans over and puts his head against your shoulder.
[01:08] XXXXXXXXXX: I still feel a little weird overall.
[01:09] Emilly Orr: You've taken a few upsets, it's understandable.
[01:09] XXXXXXXXXX reaches over and very gently touches your hair.
[01:09] XXXXXXXXXX: Yeah, but all I can do is try to keep going.
[01:09] XXXXXXXXXX: And try to work on my disguise.
[01:10] Emilly Orr: Or behavior.
[01:10] XXXXXXXXXX pulls his hand back.
[01:10] Emilly Orr shakes her head, smiling gently.
[01:11] Emilly Orr: I didn't mean for those two to be connected.

Even so, I tensed again when he touched my hair.

[01:11] XXXXXXXXXX: Oh. Okay.
[01:11] XXXXXXXXXX is trying to be careful.
[01:11] Emilly Orr: I know.

This is when pauses, at least on my side, started to get long, because...I was trying to figure out how to word things, without sounding like a complete coward, but also without sounding like everything was just fine now, and we were perfect. Because we're far, far from perfect at this point.

[01:13] XXXXXXXXXX: I like being near you.
[01:13] Emilly Orr smiles
[01:17] XXXXXXXXXX: I like your hair like that, but I like your hair down, too.
[01:18] Emilly Orr: I could change it, if you like.
[01:18] XXXXXXXXXX: I wouldn't mind, but I want you to be comfortable.

I found some hair that was, more or less, the color I'd been wearing before, just not in spiraled curls pinned into a low bun, but a drape of hair over one shoulder.

[01:22] XXXXXXXXXX: I know I've taken your hair down before.
[01:23] XXXXXXXXXX reaches over, gently, and slides his fingers into your hair.
[01:23] Emilly Orr shivers.
[01:23] Emilly Orr: You have.
[01:23] XXXXXXXXXX: I like making you shiver. As long as it's a good shiver.
[01:28] XXXXXXXXXX watches your face.
[01:28] Emilly Orr was deciding if it was a good shiver or not.
[01:29] XXXXXXXXXX: What did you come up with?
[01:29] Emilly Orr thinks it was, but she still feels...easily startled.

Thursa, Thurisaz, the Thorn. This is the needle that sticks, the claw that slices, to release chaos, destruction, and fearful pain. This is one of the strongest protection runes, but any shield with Thursa in its center will, like Hagalaz, strike both the user and the enemy. Unlike Hagalaz' storm, which passes, Thursa strikes until there is nothing and no one left to strike against. If the querent pulls this rune, they need to face their most primal fears, or abandon what gives them safety and strike out on unknown paths.

This is a talisman made by Menglod, made of black reindeer leather and lacing, with an added magpie feather. It retails for $36.97, exclusive of shipping.

I still do. I'd given him the analogy in an earlier conversation, of thinking about coaxing a wild animal out of the woods, to feed out of his hand. How one has to be careful, how movements too rushed, or too large, can startle the animal away. He said then, he understood. Even now, I don't think he does.

[01:29] XXXXXXXXXX: I understand.
[01:29] XXXXXXXXXX puts a finger under your chin and tilts your face up towards him.
[01:30] Emilly Orr watches you, but doesn't resist.

What? No. What? Wait. Why am I not resisting? I'm not thinking I'm ready for...

[01:31] XXXXXXXXXX pauses, and brushes his lips very gently against yours, then pulls back.
[01:32] Emilly Orr shivers again, leaning in taking a bit to realize you've pulled back, and inhales slowly.

...okay, that wasn't terrible, I guess. Still a bit too close...

[01:32] XXXXXXXXXX cups your cheek with his hand, watching your eyes, not moving any more.
[01:33] Emilly Orr: What do you want, [XXXXXXXXXX]?
[01:33] XXXXXXXXXX: Right now? I want to kiss you.
[01:34] Emilly Orr breathes, then nods slowly.

So, there was kissing, which I wasn't entirely sure I wanted. I'm not including it because I'm writing this pretty much off-the-cuff, trying to figure things out.

[01:39] XXXXXXXXXX pulls back after a few more moments, looking at your face, his arm curling gently around your waist.
[01:41] Emilly Orr leans in against you, tenses a bit, breathes through it, and relaxes again.
[01:41] XXXXXXXXXX frowns a little, and pulls back.
[01:42] Emilly Orr tilts her head, watching you.
[01:42] XXXXXXXXXX: Too much?

Hell, yes. FAR too much. Ask me again in a few more days. Ask me again in a week. Ask me again in a friggin' month, now is too soon, so yes. Too much. TOO MUCH.

But:

[01:43] Emilly Orr: Conflicting impulses.

was what I said. Cue aggrieved sigh at self.

Nauthiz represents emergency, crisis, immediate problems that need to be addressed. Crisis situations can pull our focus tight, can make us capable to climb mountains, organize search parties, fight back and win...or they can trigger past experiences, and cripple us, until we refocus our intentions and choose to move forward.

Force and pressure are contained in Nauthiz. Force can break us, or it can make us stronger. But Nauthiz is the rune of pressure points, pulling out where we are weak to teach us how to be strong.

This version of the rune is made out of oxidized copper, and is sold by The Witches' Mark for $45.00 exclusive of shipping.

[01:43] XXXXXXXXXX takes your hand. "Tell me about them?"
[01:44] Emilly Orr holds your hand. "I know, if I say no, and you don't accept it, I'll just log off. No discussion, at least not for tonight. And I know you didn't bring me here for sex, or...at least, I don't think you did."
[01:44] XXXXXXXXXX: Say no to what?
[01:45] Emilly Orr looks up, meets your eyes. "But...part of me wants to fall back into pattern. Climb into your lap and...And I don't know if that's a good impulse, or a bad one."
[01:45] Emilly Orr: Hmm?
[01:45] Emilly Orr: Well, anything, really. I mean, not 'want to go outside', or something trivial, I mean, if you pull me into a sexual pose, and I say no, and you don't stop.
[01:46] XXXXXXXXXX looks straight into your eyes. "I won't lie. I'd love to be inside you, right now.. But no, it's not why I brought you here."
[01:47] Emilly Orr nods. She knows. She felt it in the kiss.
[01:48] XXXXXXXXXX: I sure as hell hope you did, or I'm doing it wrong.
[01:48] Emilly Orr smiles.

His problem is, again, polarized thinking. He's either terrifyingly insecure, or massively arrogant. I could have dealt easier with insecurity.

[01:49] XXXXXXXXXX: I brought you here for us to sit together and try to work on building a little comfort back.
[01:49] XXXXXXXXXX: I won't pull you into a sex pose. Is a cuddle okay, though?
[01:49] Emilly Orr thinks about it, then nods.
[01:50] Emilly Orr rests against you.
[01:50] XXXXXXXXXX leans in and kisses you again, slowly and warmly.
[01:51] Emilly Orr cups your cheek, kissing you, softer brush of her lips to yours.

Falling into old patterns. Falling into old patterns while feeling this startled, this unsettled. It wasn't good.

It was also approaching two AM, though. While I had been going to bed at three, I've been trying to adjust to sleeping at two, because of the new schedule the others in my RL life want to keep. I explained this carefully.

[02:01] XXXXXXXXXX: Aha.
[02:01] XXXXXXXXXX: Well, I'd like it if you'd stay a while longer, but I napped and you probably didn't.
[02:02] Emilly Orr: Not a lot, no. And today saw us rising at nine.
[02:02] XXXXXXXXXX: Okay. Do you need to go, then?
[02:04] Emilly Orr thinks a bit, and then nods.
[02:04] Emilly Orr: Probably.
[02:04] XXXXXXXXXX: Okay.
[02:04] Emilly Orr: But I didn't have to run.
[02:04] XXXXXXXXXX: That's progress?
[02:06] Emilly Orr: I think so.

I still think so. Because I was prepared to run. I was expecting to have to run. Hells, I expected I'd have to just hit "log off" and hope I remembered on the morrow to log back in in my home base, not his cabin.

[02:06] XXXXXXXXXX: Good, then.
[02:06] XXXXXXXXXX will let you go, but first:
[02:07] XXXXXXXXXX slides his fingers into your hair and kisses you again, but this time he does it as hard as he's wanted to all night long, his mouth pressing strongly against your own.

NO BAD BAD THING NO NO NO STOP STOP NOW--

But, as usual:

[02:08] Emilly Orr tenses on your lap, but kisses you, tongue licking the roof of your mouth, backs of her fingers drawing along the side of your neck.
[02:08] XXXXXXXXXX: Mmmmm. That's a nice way to end the night.

Not if he knew what I'd been thinking. Tensing, but then relaxing, because it's easier to move away with a relaxed body; and pulling the backs of my fingers along his neck, because I know how easy it is for me to change into cat claws and tear his throat out.

All of which brings me back to no, no, it wasn't a nice way to end the night. But, now, since I didn't say much of this aloud, he's going to think he's done well towards fixing things, and it's just a matter of time before everything goes back to the way it was.

And for my part, I'm now thinking perhaps I need to take a week away from SL, because if I'm not at the keys, then I can't respond to what he has to say.

Conflicting impulses? We're now past that. I think we're now in conflicting realities.

no rest, I've stayed here too long, it's time to move on

Funny thing, love. There are times when I've wanted it, and never discovered a single shred of proof it existed. Other times I've wanted anything but more love in my life, and could not escape it no matter how I tried.

Whether I will or not, my heart chooses for me, and I openly acknowledge it's made some staggeringly ill-thought-out choices, both for me and those my heart wished for. But then, heart is not mind; heart is merely want, and need, and far more than occasionally, the loss of all rational thought. It's desire over deliberation, craving over consideration. Always.



Let's tell the future
Let's see how it's been done
By numbers, by mirrors, by water
By dots made at random on paper

But with one other heart...There was a binding made, there was a binding accepted, before ever the controversy of collars and titles commenced. We knew we were linked without needing other affirmations. The first time was also the first binding, by blood and spirit, and it only grew deeper from there.

And I have done everything I could conceivably think of to separate myself from that binding. Meditation, affirmations, therapy, intoxication. Privation, and gluttony; ascetic reflection. Arcane rituals of severance, incense thick on the night air. Self-denial. Self-accusation. Rationalizations.

Nothing has worked.

(I am ever careful, even virtually, when drinking from another, because this is the risk I run in all worlds.)

It was more than a year from the date my mind had declared as the tenebrous "end point" before I accepted another offer. I spent a full, traditional year mourning for the loss of him, and ever wondering if it was just that he moved on, or that he, in fact, actually died. And it was another year past that before I began to feel tentatively secure in the offer another heart had given me. Before I felt free enough from that binding to move through the strands of it remaining, and reach out once more.

(Though, in large part, it doesn't matter; what was damaged between me and that offering heart may never fully heal. We may never be what we were to each other, and...accepting that has been...damaging in itself. I don't fault the binding for that; I fault how things happened the first time that heart and I parted.)



By salt, by dice, by meal, by mice
By dough of cakes, by sacrificial fire
By fountains, by fishes, writing in ashes
Birds, herbs, smoke from the altar

And the writing, the writing, it goes on, it doesn't stop. When does it stop, will it stop? I want to say it feels uncontrolled, but the truth is--I could walk away from this at any time. Save for...maybe not. Maybe I can no less walk from this project, than I can disconnect from him.

When he told me 'forever'...I think he meant it, or, at least, some inaccessible part of me means to hold to it. Which leaves me in a peculiar quandary. If I cannot refute him, where does that leave me? If I cannot unbind the binding with my own powers, will I hear his echo in my heart forever? I want to hate him, I do, but...that...whatever inside says he is not mine to hate, only to love.

But how can love flourish in a vacuum? I think time has proven that it withers, that it shrinks, but the binding upon me, at least, does not let it fully evaporate. I am stuck with the dregs, and some nights, they are bitter indeed.



A suspended ring or the mode of laughing
Pebbles drawn from a heap
One of these things will tell you something

My hands are red with my own heart's blood, sectioned, on display...but only my eyes will ever view the resulting work. There are too many secrets, too much of me and him both, in the pages for me ever, ever to publish. This does not lessen its impact, however. And I'm feeling the impact--every word typed is every emotion felt again, is every situation relived, and afterwards, reexamined for contradiction or flaw.

I feel the revelation of future pain coming, from the perspective of the past, but I may well have no greater understanding why, once it arrives. And perhaps, I never will. Which is galling in itself, but yet another impossible thing I must find a way to accept.

Somehow. I cannot spent two more years pining for the lost one. He got lost on his own.



By nails reflecting the rays of the sun
By walking in a circle, by red hot iron
By passages in books
A balanced hatchet

Maybe, after all this time, it's too late to evict. Maybe it's time I think of his constant ghost as less binding force, and more...simple irritant. Several more years will smooth all rough edges of memory, and I will have a pearl to look back upon, instead of shards of glass in silk. Much less injurious for my heart to beat around, at any rate. Survivable, at the very least.

After all, it doesn't seem as if I have much choice.



Let's tell the future
Let's see how it's been done

(Lyrics are taken from Predictions from the album Days of Open Hand by Suzanne Vega.)

a mouthful of bees couldn't stop me

"If this will be
anything
then let it be
over."

There's something very curious about saved conversations. If I hold a letter, I can tell (reasonably speaking) how old it is. The feel of the paper will tell me, the look of the paper, the shade of the ink. Even the smell it holds may tell me things. All of these are possible with a physical object--a letter, a book, a scroll.

But data is different. Data is, to a certain extent, frozen in time. It's always fresh and always new for the most part. So opening up a saved conversation is much like having it again for the first time.

As a friend--relevant to the conversation, as it happens--once said, the wound bleeds anew when exposed again to the blade. And so it is with saved digital discussions.

"If this will be
anything
then let it be a
disaster."

So...why am I bringing this up? Because this year I had the bright idea to gather up all the remaining threads of an abandoned relationship, and analyze them through saved conversations. For NaNoWriMo.

Absolutely unpublishable, for a variety of reasons, but the chief one is that--at least right now--it feels like I'm digging into different parts of me, digging through skin and muscle to meat, seeking out anything that might have healed wrong, broken badly, or infected, and hoping to stop before I hit bone.

I know that's graphic, but that's really what it feels like. I already know that the pressure of editing whatever this is going to be is going to be too much for me. And at this point, I'm wondering if this was actually a good idea, that may lead to good things for me, or if it's just another way to sabotage myself under the guise of recovery.

At this point, I honestly couldn't say which it might be. Maybe it's both.

"A mouthful of bees
couldn't stop me
from whispering,
I don't know you."

So that's where I am. My brain dragged me out of bed only a few hours after I'd retired, and I ended up writing at a fever pace well into the afternoon. After starting, finally, on November 5th, I'm now at 15,841 words.

In two days. I'm not kidding.

"But if scars could sing
about the permanent things
they'd say it's damaged
but it was something."

But, I can already feel cracks in the foundation. Though maybe they're needed, this next time around. Because obviously, I didn't heal right the last time--if the years of isolation and hermitage have taught me nothing else, it's taught me that pulling back from the world was the wrong thing to do. Now, I need to figure out what the right thing to do will be. If there is one, single, "right" thing.

"If this will be anything
Then let it be over..."

I still plan to cover the Sinners' hunt. I've been given access to the Sinister Goth blog, and I'm contemplating what they need my voice for, over there. I'm working on writing more, interacting more, both on and off the screen. We'll see where all this goes.

But if anyone talks to me during this month, and I'm a little crazed around the edges...well, that's why. In case anyone wonders.

It's not too late to get involved in NaNoWriMo, if you're also feeling masochistic. There's a participation banner on the left side of the blog that links to their site. Get involved, if you wish. They eagerly accept donations--and they're a very good cause to donate to--but what they most desire is people who will write. That's all. They just want you to spend a month, and invent 50,000 words within it.

They just happened to pick November to do it in.

Good luck, whether you join in or not. Meanwhile, I'm back to excavating the past, and trying to understand why.

(The lyrics are taken from "Lament" from the group Mount Moriah. I'm finding them very interesting of late--all the musicians have backgrounds in heavier sounds, the jagged notes of punk, the heavy chrome of metal and hard rock. But when they create music together, they're drawn to American roots folk. So they turn out these lyrical pieces that are heavy on symbolism and acoustics, with an electronic edge.)

the face in the ceiling and arms too long

(Continued from part the first.)

NexusChild925 had an interesting response to Dewaiz:

+Dewaiz that may be so but it is the problem of those people. I know this sounds heartless but there is no way anyone can expect the world to adapt to them. As someone else already said triggers can be ANYTHING if he were to give a trigger warning for basically a creature resembling a human thrashing around a mannequin which doesn't even have genitalia as a "Rape Warning" then he may as well accommodate every other possible trauma while he's at it:
Warning gun shots- PTSD
Warning physical combat- Childhood abuse
Warning blood- Hemophobia
Warning Darkness- Nyctophobia
Warning Fog- Homichlophobia
Warning Loud noises- Phonophobia
Warning Bright lights and glitchy flashlight mechanics- Epilepsy
Warning scampering, quick freaky creatures- Me personally....

So do you see how absolutely stupid it would be? Mental trauma is a disorder which must be handled by the victim. Diabetics must check nutritional facts, as do people with food allergies, Epileptics must research movies before going to theaters, and paraplegics don't just move into apartments without checking to see if it has wheelchair access do they? The concept of trigger warnings is stupid and a pleasantry but absolutely NOT a required thing nor should he be punished for not giving one.

I think this is the main point of the counter-arguments, though more are put in less likeable terms overall. That point being, if Cry gives a warning for rape on this game--or, at least, general adult themes--then where does he draw the line? Because let's be honest, what bothers one of us may not bother another of us, even if they had similar traumatic experiences. Isn't it up to the individual in question to protect themselves, rather than insist the world at large puts them in a bubble so they take no responsibility?

I'm not trying to make the point that Mm. Tanaka was wrong to say it bothered them to see that scene. But as referenced later in the thread (with an insane amount of cursing, so I'm omitting the actual comment itself), Tanaka has seen the game before. In point of fact, Tanaka has played the game before. So why scream about needing a trigger warning in the first place, if you've already experienced what you want to be warned against?

From PetvetM:

i totally understand that and a warning would've been nice, like a general warning for intense scenes at the beginning of this playthrough, but you should understand that in a psychological horror game like this, there's bound to be a lot of content that a lot of people are sensitive to. just keep your eyes open for anything more like this, or try and skip through the scenes that are too hard for you.

Also true. And, I won't lie, it's hard for me to summon up much sympathy for the person who calls other people "pony f*cker" and "furfag". That's straight out of 4chan, and that loses Tanaka MAJOR points, IMO.

But was the original point valid? As I don't know how they put it to Cry in the first place, I can't say with any accurate opinion. Requesting that a warning be given--or, at least, typed in the description of the video, if nothing else--isn't wrong. But when to give a warning, that's entirely on the broadcaster, isn't it? There is this, however, which starts with Xbyte Zephyriums reply to Tanaka:

+Konata Tanaka Well... You know, Cry's human too... Of course it's his fault for not triggering... but in this kind of game, I guess it's something you should expect, don't u think? And well, regarding the other games, he may have f*cked up. But don't you think it's hard? I think he at least tries, to the point he himself have triggered some things over the past let's plays. He cannot foressee and expect what could be offensive or not for everyone, but I bet he'd trigger the f*ck out of everything if he'd known about it. And about your "he cares about suicide but doesn't care about child rape at all" probably because he can relate to, it must be hard for him to think for 2 million people that are watching him. I think you've got some kind of right to complain, as long as you do it properly. Well, good luck with a lot of people ganging up and saying mean things to you, but that's internet, stay strong I guess.

And Tanaka's reply in turn:

+Xbyte Zephyrium i know crys human thats why i warned him about this scene and asked him for a warning in the very first hour he uploaded the first episode

he NEVER tried to tag for rape
ever
unless, and im serious, /i/ brought it up with him
literally me
always f*cking me telling this grown ass men to put rape warnings in games
forest of drizzling rain is the only one hes put a warning for.
i just dont get why he doesnt, yknow?

also sorry if i come across as rude bc of my typing! just in advance i guess i wanted to say that

thanks for the vote of confidence friend!! i really dont get why people wanna be mean :/ like it so easy to be nice just chill out listen to people and relax and bam youre happy!
everyone happy and safe!
one day man one day the world will be perfect and safe

Which is a good sentiment, but also, a puzzling one, because it tells me a) Tanaka's been watching Cry for a very long time, and b) there's still that dissonance between wanting everyone to be happy and safe, and calling fellow debaters various unfriendly epithets which are used solely to demean and hurt.

There is one change from all of this, in that Cry added a new bit to the fourth playthrough video, to wit:

"This is a psychological horror warning for all things Silent Hill-related. If you are sensitive to story elements that may or may not contain situations that might involve rape, molestation, child endangerment or self-harm, you might want to stop watching now. This is the one and only warning I will give you. Make sure to look into the parental guide found on websites like IMDb next time. Let's get back into this."

So...I guess that's something?

I won't say it's something positive, because he says this in a very rushed, clipped, and undeniably irritated voice, but...at least it's there.

is it dark already? how light is a light?

Konapun, a Japanese toy company, apparently marketed a fully functional tiny kitchen playset at one point during their reign (between 2007 and 2009, mainly). Unsure how to use it? Watch AAAJoken cook egg and sausage breakfast, or Miniature Space do a pretty passable, if miniscule, chicken curry using the set (or, at least part of the set).

The weird thing is that apparently everyone thought that this more 'American' style cookset was just another toy, until some intrepid souls on YouTube actually cooked edible food on the darned things. No idea where you'd get one now, if you wanted one; I suppose you could check the Konapun collectors' page on eBay, and see if one turns up.

In the meantime, there's been some controversy over one of the YouTube broadcasters I follow. His name's Cryaotic, and, like many YouTube gamers, he plays various games--some that he chooses, some that his fans request--interspersed with question/answer videos and announcements of live streams. In this sense, he's similar to everyone else, only with far less screaming (like some of his contemporaries). Also, he possesses two other things I tend to like: a calm, soothing voice, and a general outlook on the world that is against racism, misogyny and bigotry. This is not to say that he's completely free of any of these traits: he's a white male living in the US, and as a culture, Americans are rather steeped in all three. But he does pretty well.

He also plays horror games...and that's where the controversy comes in.

I can't find the original comment, it was deleted--either by Cry (which is his right as the channel's owner) or by YouTube itself (because on occasion, they step in and do that). But I was able to track down Mm. Tanaka's reaction:



What they're responding to--I want to say "she", but as I don't know for sure, I'm edging towards caution--is a scene in Silent Hill 2, between Pyramid Head and two of the Mannequins. There's a lot of fan theories about this particular scene, and it can be seen to have potential sexual elements, but overall, I think what Pyramid Head is trying to do to the Mannequins involves more outright murder, over rape. Granted, it's highly suggestive, and if you don't know going in that he's trying to force one of the Mannequin's limbs into the garbage disposal (for...reasons unknown), then it's easily misinterpreted.

This is (part of) the scene in question:



I'm not going to show moving footage--you can search YouTube for that, it's a fan favorite scene for many, and in fact, it did inspire the Pyramid Head "Rape Time" meme among (mostly male) fans who failed to understand the context--but I don't feel as if I'm encouraging a 'trigger warning' need on this post, either. At any rate, from that comment, whatever it was, drama spawned, in SPADES.

From Yaranaika in response:

To be perfectly honest "trigger warnings" are absolutely stupid things that should stay in tumblr and never come out.
It's embarrassing seeing someone use that term.

I don't entirely agree, but to be fair, the use of trigger warnings is rife on Tumblr, with many people demanding them for the most innocuous-sounding things.

From Larissa A to Yaranaika:

Or maybe you're just blatant ignorant and insensitive.

That's on the harsh side, but it's the mildest of the responses in kind, so I'm choosing that.

From Inoella:

The ABUSE of trigger warnings is what is embarrassing and stupid. Many people claim to need them just for the attention, however that doesn't mean that some people actually do need them. Where is your compassion? Is it so hard to sympathize with people who have had traumatic experiences and don't want to relive that? Personally I have never need a warning, and regarding the scene in this episode that so many people are talking about, I believe it's purely up to interpretation.

I'd agree. And part of what causes the horror in the Silent Hill franchise--or, at least, the first three games, if not the others--is that sense of not fully understanding what's going on. We see it; we know we see it; but we're not always sure what it is that we're seeing.

From Vladimir Bodrovski:

+Inoella I agree a hundred percent with this. Trigger warning is kind of meant for people who will ABSOLUTELY DIE from a panic attack cus of a scene. (I personally think the most important warning for watching a video is flashing lights in case of seizures) but it seems people now abuse tw for things that make them a tad uncomfortable. SO ABUSED, to the point, that it ironically is slightly oppressive.

Which may be why Cry's fans seized on this, in good and bad ways--the fact that merely requesting a trigger warning is not what happens (especially on Tumblr). Usually, it's used as a counterattack--"You've TRIGGERED me and now I'm having ABUSE FLASHBACKS and you're EVIL and you should DIE!" kinds of comments.

From Flynn Pierce:

+Larissa A The problem with trigger warnings is that anything can be a trigger. A depiction of rape can be a trigger to a rape victim. A gun firing can be a trigger to a veteran suffering from PTSD. Hitting a vaguely humanoid enemy with a lump of wood can be a trigger to someone who was physically abused as a child. Drug abuse can be a trigger to someone recovering from an addiction. The list goes on.

When you go into a horror game you can generally expect a large portion of the list of triggers are going to be fulfilled in some way or another, especially a game as horrific as Silent Hill 2 that covers so many topics. It's just something that comes with the genre.

Now, if the game was a non-horror point and click or platformer that happened to reference a particular trigger? Then I could maybe see a good reason to put a warning in if the scene was particularly graphic, because it's so unexpected.

I agree, and--going back to Tumblr--I get why they're both used and abused alike. Because Tumblr is excessively visual--while in general most people choose what's on their feed, in terms of bloggers, they have no choice on what those bloggers put on their feeds. I follow general (albeit personal) guidelines whenever I post things likely to trigger those extraordinarily depressed, or those rape/abuse victims who may be following my feed. But those warnings are in the tags, not stamped across the images--one must already be employing a program like Tumblr Savior that specifically blocks words you don't want to see. (I actually use that program, only for mine, the two words are "sponsored" or "advertising".)

From PK Boal:

Right, let's just stop warning rape victims of rape scenes. Should be hilarious to watch them have panic attacks and flashbacks, right? I agree with Cry, it's a little redundant to put a trigger warning on a Silent Hill game, but they have a place and a definite purpose.

Trigger warnings are overused on Tumblr, but content warnings are everywhere- those "parental advisory" stamps on music and ratings on TV shows and movies are the first ones that come to mind.

Honestly, a warning for people who need it takes at most a couple of minutes. Speaking from experience, coming out of a panic attack takes nearly an hour of nausea, lightheadedness, and feeling like you're about to die. If you can't spare two minutes to slap a warning on something like an out-of-the-blue rape scene, you shouldn't be putting out content.

While I think PK's correct in the main, I don't agree with the specific 'everyone should do this' conclusion, and the below comment is exactly why.

From FastFlyerJr:

You make a good point but it's still unknown, even today, if it was rape.

As I said earlier, this is true. Do understand, Japan does not function on the same set of sexual "ethics"--if America's both insane draw towards sex, and aversion towards sex, can be so named--that the US does. There are numerous games that exist for the specific purpose of getting some nubile young thing's clothes off, and having sex with her. (There's at least one game that exists solely to wipe the sweat off a naked male post-shower, so it's not solely centered on male urges, either.) In fact, there's a rather infamous game called RapeLay, released in 2006, whose storyline was so offensive that it was subsequently banned from being sold in several countries.

Which brings us to the whole game rating thing. Silent Hill 2--in fact, ALL Silent Hill games, as far as I'm aware--are released with an "M" content stamp. Officially, this is what that rating equates to:



So, in Silent Hill 2: Intense violence, check. Blood and gore, check. Nudity, in a couple places, check. Mature humor: not a lot, but some. Strong language? Check. Strong sexual content: check. Use of drugs and alcohol: not so much.

But your core guidelines are there: strong sexual content. Violence. Blood, gore, nudity. What person needing to be protected from these things would see these guidelines and decide "Sure, let's boot this up!"?

From Dewaiz:

I have never seen a comment chain this unpleasant on a video of Cry. Please understand that some people have traumatic experiences which makes trigger warnings useful to them (panic attacks are not very nice, I assure you). But I also agree that you probably shouldn't be watching horror games if you need trigger warnings for this kind of stuff.

Which references my point above. It's called Silent Hill, and there have been several games, two movies, and a lot of internet commentary (including literally hundreds, if not thousands, of YouTube videos) related to it. It's a horror game, and not an obscure one. So why the controversy?

(To be continued in part two, of two.)

we are not standing, we are falling

(Continued from part two.)

Still on January 19th, [GIRL] FireballNitro ♥ commented:

This piece of godlike work deserves to be glorified in front of Adolf Hitler.

I can't even respond to that. You have to be a troll.

Moving into the evening of January 19th, [TWC]Stradar said:

Wtf is this Shit sounds like Pro-Choice Garbage!! Please dont bring this shit into games!!

Isn't that the point of the game, though? It's not strictly 'pro-choice' or 'anti-woman' 'pro-life', because you are helping make the decisions on what this young girl is going to do. Now, if that's not something an individual gamer wants to do, that's perfectly understandable. But there are all sorts of games, for all sorts of people; as much as I despise Hatred as a game, and think the developers are wrong to put it out, as a game in and of itself that's all it is--a way to pass time, a way to entertain ourselves. Some of us like to be challenged, some of us just want the easy romp, some want to be scared, some want to harvest cute vegetables and raise fluffy pets. There are games for all of us.

From Sam:

You should totally add item drops like in cs:go. Play the game long enough and you can unlock different skins for your coat hanger.

And the misogyny on parade begins.

Commenter whathump (alienjh) keeps it succinct:

This game looks bad and you should feel bad.

Really? Considering it's essentially a visual novel, and the bulk of the art is one girl, standing by a fence (oh, metaphor), I suppose "looks bad" is your way of saying it doesn't have enough guns, or something. From an artistic standpoint, though, there is animation in each frame--subtle, but it is there. And there are moments of action, though I fully grant you, whathump, it's almost assuredly action you would fail to recognize in the least.

From Numquam on the 20th:

I will not support something coming on steam without given any gameplay examples. And if that video was a gameplay example, this clearly is a poorly done video game and not deserving of being released on Steam. Games need gameplay.

I have to assume that most people are just reading the title of the game, and ignoring everything else that the developers have said on the page. Because thee's a clearly given link to a playable demo; in point of fact, that entire line of writing says:

Try the demo right now at www.locomotivah.com/pregnancy

To me, that says I can click that to go download the demo, and OH WAIT I DID, because I'm not stupid.

From Bananoman:

Can my baby be an alien?

No. Because it's not your baby.

From Pyraax:

The day this gets accepted, the day I leave Steam. Please tell me this is just a troll attempt.

Why would it be? While games that are offered up on Greenlight are in various stages of completion, Pregnancy is one that is finished, so it's not a troll attempt, it's a completed game.

Moreover, you want to quit Steam, you can do that at any time. Doubt Steam--or Valve, the company behind Steam--would care either way.

From Sigurd on January 20th:

this is a joke?

Nope. Next?

An hour later, from the same commenter:

shut up we do not need a fake game.he has write a book about it not a game.

Who are you talking about, Sigurd? What fake game? What book?

From Tsubuyakj:

Anyone els suffering from extreme paranoiya and confusion trying to understand what this is? ...and if its legal?

It's "paranoia", it's pretty clear what it is, both by watching the video and by reading the blurb beneath it.

Assuming you can read, that is.

For the legality of it, sure, if we were shown graphic images of a living, actual fourteen-year-old girl being raped, then yes, it might very well be illegal, and in that case, Steam wouldn't be considering it for Greenlight. We are not shown that.



We are shown rape flashbacks, which are traumatizing for those of us who've suffered such, but are, on the face of those sections of the game alone, simply words on the screen, same as the rest of the game. Pregnancy is, at the end of the day, a text-based adventure start to finish. There are no scenes of violence, there are no real children being abused in a such a fashion; all depictions of Lilla's rape are descriptions, not pictorial representations.

From Asterette✿:

So she's 14 and got pregnant by a rapist/pedo... What decision she would make is obvious.

No so, Asterette. There are women who do not choose to abort, even after rape. I've known people who wouldn't be alive if their mothers had thought the situation was so cut and dried as you seem to think it is.

I'll be clear, here: I think abortion should be a basic reproductive right, until we grow into the kind of society that values all children, raises them responsibly, doesn't beat them, doesn't force sex on them. Since that may never happen, abortion is a necessary medical practice.

But that doesn't mean it's right and proper for everyone. We don't know Lilla's religion, and from the demo, we don't get a strong idea of her family, and the values they hold. She lives in Hungary; does that mean she's in a more conservative region, or not? She's fourteen and she's talking about music she likes and movies she likes, so I posit she's living in a larger city, or at least a suburb of a larger city, but even that doesn't mean much. And keep in mind, the whole point of pro-choice is not "an abortion in every home", but to give each woman who faces this decision the right to make this decision on their own.

Ultimately, taken out of game context, Lilla's situation should be hers and hers alone, but we are also social beings. She fears, at one point (in at least one chosen story path), telling her Aunt Panka the truth, because she's not sure how she will react. And that's honest.

In the most supportive family, in a family who holds a raped daughter, a raped niece, a raped granddaughter to be just as pure and beautiful as she was before the attack, in a family that would support her unconditionally no matter what she chose, it is still a decision. And while her family, her friends, her doctors can advise her on what to do, it's till ultimately her choice.

So no, Asterette, I don't think it's ever going to be that simple, for anyone who faces this decision, no matter who they are.

(Continued in part four.)

when you only make it better, and it better be tonight

The Every Second Man blog purports to have an interview with the person behind the flatterbot ruse currently plaguing Second Life. She claims to make L$40,000 per day with this gimmick, and to that I say: more people on the grid need to be more observant.

Apparently, there are games now where the player can take a picture of whatever's in front of their webcam, and use it as the face of their character. If that sounds scary to you, then...you're likely right. For an example, one player made his in-game character his dog. And Penny Arcade did a comic on the most-commonly seen Tiger Woods game scan back in 2007. (Though any actual nudity is pixelated out, as it does deal with adult topics--sorta--I'll warn that it's NSFW.)

Speaking of NSFW things, this lass explaining the workings of her necklace to a studio audience and her fellow commentators--none of whom can keep a straight face. For those who don't speak French, the Reddit article on this tells me she's saying "Happy. Not happy" when she's pulling the chain that activates the...err...well, just don't watch it at work.

Over in France, apparently, the next big thing is blow-up lamps. Well--they're not actually balloons, they just look like balloon animals. I'd say it's a fun idea, I'm just not entirely convinced it's a fun idea worth over two hundred Euros each.

And in other design news, the spork has been reinvented! With a larger bowl, and actual tines instead of pointy bits. Thing is, though, does it really improve that much over the design of the original spork? Well, maybe if you eat a lot of ramen.

Let me also introduce you to the Cycloptopus by Nemo Gould. He makes sculpture that moves, with a sort of steampunk-futuristic edge. Very fascinating stuph.

To that same end, Greg Petchkovsky's blending of real and digital art is nothing less than astounding. Using high-resolution photographs, digital imaging, and 3D printers, he is changing the physical world around him, one small object at a time. Deeply impressive.

Over on i09, Christopher Salmon's posted the initial animatic--with Neil Gaiman narration--of one of Gaiman's short stories, "The Price". It's fifteen minutes long, and both inspiring and heartbreaking. Go watch. Make a cup of tea and open your heart to wonder. It's well worth the time. And quite possibly, it will be a feature film soon.

Other depression for the day that's worth your time: Amanda Palmer blogging about Amanda Todd, and the phenomenon of internet bullying, and how it really is that much worse than "traditional" bullying. For one, the fights tend to be both longer and more vicious, and for two, the entire world has a chance to jump on the bandwagon--out of boredom, out of misdirected anger, out of their own hurt and resentment--and join in.

But that's not why I'm tossing it up for your perusal. I'm tossing it up because of the comments she's getting. Just as bullying can work as an online mob-mentality gathering of ill will, so can support. And while Amanda Todd will never receive this outpouring of endurance, encouragement and faceless love--in the end, she took her own life, unable to face both her stalker and fellow students who told her, repeatedly, she "needed" to just kill herself because "nobody" liked her--maybe other teens will see it. Maybe other adults thinking of taking their own lives will see it. That's why I think it's worthwhile.

Spinning from that in a 'we are the internet, we need to be better to each other' kind of way, here's a tale about Star Trek fans coming together to help one of their own. In this case, this particular one happens to be dying of an incredibly virulent form of cancer--to the point that he's not entirely sure he's going to be alive by the time the next Star Trek film opens.

The request: friends of his wanted those involved with the film to send the ten-minute special preview to his local theatre. The solution: JJ Abrams brought the entire film to screen for this guy. Marvelous.

Massoud Hassani, meanwhile, has come up with an absolutely brilliant idea: a low-cost, low-powered mine detonator that can be released over minefields to detonate land mines that have been forgotten. While his main goal (and a worthy one) is the Middle East, I can also see these being used in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos, where there are still mines in place from the early 1960s that have never been found. There are eleven days left on the Kickstarter; help if you can.

I wish I knew where this came from--other than "somewhere on Tumblr"--but it's good advice, nonetheless. Plus, whoever came up with bundling WD-40 and duct tape together is a GENIUS.

And will someone please tell me if Kyary Pamyu Pamyu is a corporate spokesperson, or a band? Either way, her videos are getting very strange.

and I've tried and tried, but it's taking me so long

City of Heroes launched Issue 23 today, which is literally jam-packed with new content in all directions: new Incarnate trials, new VIP and Premium content, an entire new play zone, and a new Free player channel, which many of us--both free and paid players alike--have been begging for.

See, when free play was introduced in CoH, free players couldn't IM people, couldn't email people, couldn't join supergroups, and couldn't talk in any channel beyond Help. This, naturally, reduced the honest and sincere questions that Help channel gets from time to time to so much pink noise--most of it grating and unnecessary in Help.

Now, there's the new Looking for Group channel, which can be clicked on to open, or simply use "/lfg" to pop it up. While this will also result in a lot of unnecessary pink noise in LFG, it should lessen the yammering in Help. Which is all we really wanted.

Of more import, free players can now be invited to Supergroups! Originally, this ban--like the ban on IMs and emails--was to prevent gold spammers from further infesting the game. (As soon as the Free-to-Play option was announced, we, like all other big MMOs, got INUNDATED with gold spammers. Or, in the case of their version of coinage, influence and infamy spammers.) Since most spammers are not at ALL interested in advancing past level one, getting an invite by proving you're a human, not a leech should be ridiculously easy.

Australian game channel GINX has released their Final Fantasy Guide to Hair--which is funny, surreal, and occasionally baffling. If you ever played any iteration of Final Fantasy, take five minutes and watch it. It's well worth your time.

So, I'm now using Niran's Viewer, because I loathe it less than any other V3-structured viewer, and because I've been struggling for the past three days simply to connect with Cool-VL. (And, considering I'm not male, and Mr. Beauchamp ignores any bug report sent to him from the distaff gender, it's not worth my time to send in a bug report he won't pay attention to anyway. Better to simply abandon the viewer as a waste of time. Why yes, I am bitter about this, why do you ask?)

There are a lot of different settings on Niran's I don't understand yet, though I'm working through them. I've managed--with the help of a concerned friend (read, "concerned" as "why are you screaming at me?") to get things more or less in working condition for me. (And in this case, read "working" as "I've effectively rendered part of Niran's crippleware, because I hate V3 viewers that much".)

Thing is, I don't have another option. My system isn't advanced enough for Exodus (though said concerned friend is trying to convince me to give it a try again); I refuse to use Firestorm (that's not going to change, ever); and I'd rather spoon our my own eyes than use the official viewer. (Seriously, I'm not exaggerating when I say that. Lindens, if you're listening, yes, the hash you made of the SL official viewer is so loathesome to me, I'd rather blind myself and leave Second Life forever than continue to play. I'm not sugar-coating this at all--V3 is that bad.)

But--in said partially-argumentative conversation last night--I did discover part of why I hate V3 with such a fiery vengeance. (Well, beyond the layout, the reconfiguration points, the sidebar, the top bar, the way movement works, the way changing clothes works, the difficulty in USING THE DAMN VIEWER IN THE FIRST PLACE--)

*ahem*

What I discovered was that only two things really make it a pass-or-fail option for me: and half of that conclusion comes from toasts and chiclets.

Here's why: while this no doubt is different for users of Linux or Mac systems, in PC systems, the stop-all-programs/emergency/alert notifications come in on the lower right-hand corner. Which means I am instinctually trained to drop everything and put my attention to whatever's popping up, because it--on Windows--means there's something DIRE going on.

The decision by Studio 8020 to spend part of the seven figures Linden Lab paid them on pushing standard, everyday "you got a thing"/"you're talking to someone" notifications into the lower right-hand corner--that emergency/alert/attend to this NOW! corner--means that as soon as I log into ANY V3 viewer--including Niran's--I am immediately enraged. I'm not even kidding. It's not even zero to bitch, it's zero to STAB MOTHERFUCKERS NOW, and part of that is because things are flashing in the lower right-hand corner, and I can't get them to stop.
Because in my head, I know that things in the lower right-hand corner are not a system stop emergency, but I feel like I have to drop everything and attend to them anyway, and it absolutely infuriates me every time. This results in one of two things happening. Either:

• a), I do drop everything, then close each and every toast and chiclet I can close, thus missing out on all that information, or
• b) I don't drop everything, because I know it's not important, and then things sit there and build up and keep flashing until I storm away from Second Life in a huff.

Again, not kidding, not exaggerating. That's what happens. Every single damned time. And while there are other reasons I hate V2/V3 viewers (oh, so many other reasons), that's the main one. That is the single issue that, if fixed, would result in far less stress on me, on those around me (because anyone who IMs me during one of these anger management breaks either gets ignored or yelled at), and far more time spent in-world rather than doing anything other than Second Life.

The same friend (poor, long-suffering soul) told me that I could just ignore the toasts, because they'd go away after a while. I just counted, standing in my skybox, how long it takes those notifications to fade. Eight. Seconds. And after those eight seconds have passed, and the actual notifications leave? I STILL HAVE THE LITTLE ENVELOPE STARING AT ME. Which does not, I repeat, NOT go away. EVER.

Until I attend to it.

Which means that, less than thirty seconds in on Second Life, and already my hands are shaking, I want to throw things, and I'm pretty much done for the day. It's insane. How hard is it to NOT HAVE THAT GODDAMN SETTING?

And don't get me started on how difficult, cumbersome, over-complicated and insane it is to join groups! I just want to JOIN A GROUP! GIVE ME THE GODDAMN JOIN TEXT! DIIIIIE!

I'm...going to go lay down now, and maybe sew something to something else. I think you all get the point.

And I've now set myself up for months of this crap, because I can't use any other reasonable alternatives, and because Henri's a bigoted ASS. On occasion, I hate my life.

And this is not a "steampunk" outfit. What the hell is wrong with people??