So I’ve been thinking about Bungou Stray Dogs a lot lately and it’s recent rapid decline into a series a baffling, shitty contrivances. And I’ve been thinking about what it would take, for me, for the series to fix itself.
The great hall of the Mori estate was draped in red silks
and filled with people dressed as auspiciously as the room was decorated, each
trying to display more jewels at their throats and frills in their dress than
everyone else. It was a silent competition played out with smiles at each
other’s face and sneers at their backs. Each judging each other and deciding
who was worthy of note and who they would crush under their heel.
It was an old game, one Osamu Dazai had seen play out a
hundred times over. He grew bored of it by the time he was ten, already a
master of outplaying the rich and powerful.
MAN I FUCKING WISH I WAS A TEENAGER BACK IN 2002 I WANT TO SEE MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE IN A BASEMENT VENUE WITH ONLY LIKE 50 OTHER PEOPLE IN THE ROOM AND HAVE THEM PLAY OUR LADY OF SORROWS AND GET SOMEBODY TO PUNCH ME IN THE FACE AND FOR ME TO PUNCH SOMEBODY IN THE FACE