How Exhilarating Must It Be To Be Predated Upon By A Breaching Predator. Like Youre Swimming Chilling

how exhilarating must it be to be predated upon by a breaching predator. like you’re swimming chilling minding ur own business and then. fucking blammo. a great white or perhaps a killer whale slams into you from below. you’re going to die. you know you’re going to die in the few milliseconds after the impact but before your soul passes you’re ripped from your realm and into the sky, maybe as high as a dozen feet, bathed in the harsh air and wind and sounds and smells of a world that has lived above you your entire life yet you’ve never been able to touch, should never be able to touch, would never be able to touch except for instances just like this, where its one of the last things that happens to your conscious body. do you think that, amidst the adrenaline-filled panic, there is some modicum of wonder and exhilaration underneath? some appreciation of the fact that they are seeing something few other of their surviving peers ever will? i mean probably not they got literal fish brains. fish are dumb as fuck, i think. probably all they’re really thinking is “OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK” and then they get eaten and die. and i don’t blame them. but maybe there’s a real smart fish out there. a gentle soul. who does unfortunately find their brutal end by way of a breaching creature. maybe this smart, well-read fish is ripped into the air and understands. they get it. they get the enormity of the universe and the beauty of their minuscule place within. and as they are ripped and torn and shredded by uncaring teeth there is some thought underneath their nervous system’s final throes: That Was Awesomd

once again thinking abt ORV as one of the most brilliant and self-aware genre commentaries ever, cus' isekai/transmigration is-- in my experience-- a deeply lonely genre. the yearning to be plucked from the stress and apparent dead spiral of real life and dropped into a setting where you matter somehow. the fact that this transmigration is often by way of death, completely abandoning the real world, is particularly telling and... bleak. but whether it's a recognition of being 'the most baddass dude', the narrative satisfaction of trying to 'fix' the plot of a doomed story, or even just befriending characters we've laughed and cried for, we want so badly to be a part of something more.

and the way ORV recognizes that and doesn't mock it, but gently reminds us that... real life isn't removed from that. it may not be as straightforward and 'narratively' satisfying as a constructed story, but we can enact change in the world around us, and we can find connection and solidarity in others. the things we want from escapism are things we often can achieve in real life, at least on a small scale. if only we recognize the inherent depth and complexity of others as, y'know, fully-realized human individuals. hell, if we recognize ourselves as more than simple characters with set paths and tropes.

ORV takes every opportunity to remind us that we are not alone, no matter how bleak and isolated we feel. our lives are constantly touching others and vis-versa, and we leaves marks on the world we can't possibly predict. we matter, we always always matter

What’s It Gonna Be Today?

‘I’m Creating An Entire Civilization In My Head Whilst Running On Nothing But Milk Tea And Spite’ or ‘Haunted By The Ghosts Of My Unborn Stories’