#honestly the history of warfare is awful

[aragornsrockcollection]

So googled cavelry cause I was thinking about Maglor’s gap.

Google asked if I wanted to know the most successful cavelry in history and I was like “yeah, why not, I’m a nerd.”

And so I just learned about the Winged Hussars, an elite class of Serbian Mercenaries who fought for Polish and Hungarian lords in the 1600’s, won every battle they fought and already look like they came from a fantasy novel:

Those wings actually served a purpose besides looking badass (and therefore being intimidating, so that is a valid purpose): the wooden frame protects from blows from behind, and the feathers create a sound that spooks enemy horses.

So Maglor the bard warrior cavelry guy absolutely had, if not feathers, like reeds or bells or whistles or all three tuned to create a song that would alarm dark things, not just horses.

They fought with extremely long but hollow metal lances, which were HORRIFYINGLY reported to spear five people in one go.

They became obsolete when fire arms became accurate enough to hit fast moving targets at distance, but until technology advanced to that point they never lost a battle.

So. Headcanon for Maglor and the elves of the gap.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #lotr #silmarillion #jirt #jrr tolkien #maglor #maglor’s gap #cavalry elf #honestly the history of warfare is awful #but the extremely thin silver lining is how cool some of the gear is

[partikron]

"This is gonna give me nightmares..."

That's what the general says when he sees a cast of Godzilla's footprint, and this is coming from a guy who saw the terrors of World War II first hand. This dude lived through one of the most horrifying times in human history, a short period so violent and awful that it's honestly hard to overstate the full calamity of it all. War, death camps, entomological warfare, the list goes on and on, culminating in the devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki via godlike weapons of mass destruction.

And upon seeing that footprint he's like "Nah, fuck that."

#godzilla #godzilla movies #gojira #kaiju #tokusatsu #monarch legacy of monsters #monarch #giant monsters #monster movies

[spilledcoconutwater]

You know what, I didn't want to speak up, because I know people like to misinterpret my words and I know people whose families suffered in Hamas attack and many irls following me is much more knowledgeable about politics of middle east than I am and I didn't want to make some stupid mistake and get roasted to hell and back, but, first of all, I will be screaming free Palestine the same way my mother used to scream free Tibet as a teenager and I also can't stand the disinformation and lack of critical thinking.

1. I genuinely saw someone stating that protecting Israel is important, because every jew from Poland fled there to survive holocaust and there is no more og Jews there, which I guess means half of my friends doesn't exist so good riddance.

2. I hate so many people making it about antisemitism. Like...wtf? If a christian kills my dog and I will get angry at him, it's because I'm an atheist? Please. Antisemitism is a problem, but let's not get carried away. It's not about religion here, it's about genocide and honestly I have very deep if you were victim in the past, now we are in the present and you lost your victim card the moment you did your first war crime against people who weren't even connected to what you're trying to play victim about. Like if my dog bites me and I will go punch my friend's cat years later stating I was just afraid my dog will bite me again, it doesn't exactly make sense, does it?

3. I hate people making it about Ukraine and race. Yeah, racism is awful and way too common and influences too many political decisions, but it's not why reaction to Ukraine was different. I need you all to understand that Ukraine got so much coverage because westerners were shitting themselves about it being too close to their homes, and the USA saw the opportunity to rehush their cold war. They don't care about ukrainians, but they can't let Russia progress beyond Ukraine because it will tangle them in active warfare. West is more than happy to boost their economy on wars as long as they are far from them and won't affect them personally. It's not about race here. It's not about religion. Politics is way less about beliefs and ideals and more about maximising profit than you can imagine.

4. The same goes for why Ukraine didn't vote and didn't support Palestine. I can't pretend to know what ukrainian government believes in but you do get that them going against USA and supporting Russian side and country that "attacked" would be political suicide, Ukraine can't afford if they want to keep USA fundings and get that spot in Nato. Them deciding not to vote is as good as it could be, but this one is just my opinion, since the same would probably also happen in different scenarios, looking at how all Eastern countries voted.

5. Fuck everyone who says they don't want to think about it or that kids are too young to learn about it. What exactly is a difference between them learning about genocide and polish kids writing essays about teenagers dying in uprising and reading books about Gestapo tortures or dying in Nazi camps in a fucking middle school? If official school program for polish, Lithuanian or German kids states its okay to show them documentaries about holocaust and sing songs about kids dying for their land, why it's too much to explain to them what is happening in middle East?

6. I hate how little we learned from ww2. When polish spies were risking their lives getting secret plans and documents about holocaust from Germans before the war and presented them to the west, west said they can't get involved because its too delicate issue and would hurt international relationships. Then billions of people died because the west was too selfish to move a finger. Then they just left East to Soviets because Churchill was too concerned about being on good terms with Stalin. Why is West doing the same shit again? What are these years of learning history good for if politicians can't even learn from it? And going off of this, while I understand we have right wing Catholic government and antisemitism issue that would look bad on us, fuck East for not speaking up and not taking a stance.

7. If one country doesn't have military it's not a war, its genocide.

8. "Ooh, Amanda, what should Israel do after getting attacked by Hamas then?" I don't know, maybe discuss how to get hostages they talk about so much from gaza back to their homes and try to focus on that instead of straight up bombing everyone and maybe go for defense instead of war crime. Maybe not use phosphore bombs and not kill journalists? Maybe not put hostages from their own country in active danger? Hamas, for sure, will give your kids back when you bomb them so hard there will be no kids to give back anymore. What country genuinely tries to completely destroy and bomb country with their own hostages in it before securing the hostages? It should be your first red flag.

9. If Israel really believes they are just protecting themselves, why would they try so hard to hide what is happening in Palestine? Why would they cut off the Internet? Wouldn't it be better for them to just show everything and let the world see the situation?

10. At the end let it be said, I wish celebrities knew when to shut the fuck up. I hate this trend where we expect famous people to speak up. Yeah, yeah, I know traction and influence but one would think we noticed already how dumb and uneducated most of entertainment industry is and that they will just repost whatever their pr people tell them to, so what's the point? I will always advocate for influencers and celebrities whose job isn't connected to the issue, to just go fuck themselves before they open their social media apps. Let's acknowledge that most of them are either upper class dropouts or liberal intellectualists who are living in a completely different world than we are.

Just my random thoughts. I'm not here to get into discussion. Political and humanitarian debates are something I do irl, and I have my international relationship major and history major friends for that.

#palestine #free palestine #didn't know if I should tag it because it's literally just my rant and my own thoughts #but fuck it #also how tf do I restrict comments?

[owlixx]

CoD Purchase Notes:

I believe it has been since the last notes that I purchased Call of Duties 3, 4: MW, MW2 (OG), Black Ops 1, Ghosts, and Advanced Warfare. This completes my collection at the modest sum of 85 bucks. That’s half because Ghosts and AW only sell the “gold” version bundle with 1 DLC for 20 bucks each. Still, I’m glad to have access to exo zombies at all since it isn’t in the bad game of AW.

Since then, I refunded my copy of CoD 4 because I didn’t realize that my secondhand physical copy of Infinite Warfare included Modern Warfare Remastered! It said “download required” on the box, so I assumed it came with a download code that would surely be redeemed already, but no, it comes with a little 100 megabyte download starter on the disc itself which is amazing. I’m really glad I’ll get to experience that campaign in its best form and get to try the multiplayer with a few more active players.

I still have all my stats and unlocks from back in the day for BO1 and MW2! It’s crazy that I only have 30ish hours in the multiplayer of MW2 and didn’t hit max level when it seemed so big to me at the time. Same with BO1, with only 20 odd hours in the multiplayer (and a .67 KD, yikes) BUT I have 30 odd hours in just the combat training mode and god knows how long I spent in zombies.

Speaking of - I did do one round of Kino and got to round 17 solo after pack a punching the ray gun and m16 and getting all four perks, which I was very proud of accomplishing on my very first try here in the second-to-oldest zombies mode. I remember years ago reflecting on how much easier the classic maps were in BO3 compared to their original versions and now BO3 itself seems like ancient history compared to the modern CoDs and their open-world zombies too.

Also it’s crazy to me that Black Ops 1 has no incentive to use one gun over another! I mean, sure, there’s challenges for each gun to complete but they just award basic xp/points. The camos and attachments are just unlocked by purchase. I appreciate offering the player agency but I don’t have a strong desire to grind this game out that way. also kind of wild to see “equipment” as something you just respawn with instead of being timer based like field upgrades. Face camo is funny. Crazy to see this game have more reticle customization than any other CoD still. The red splash badges for double kills and such are also hilariously dated now but they seemed so cool and modern at the time. I was so excited for Black Ops 1 that I still call the Stakeout pump shotgun “Ithaca” from its trailer name by total accident. I also kind of miss how these older maps sometimes had more of an identity or gimmick than the dull modern maps. I did do 1 match of BO1 as a sneak preview and it was honestly a ton of fun and not nearly as clunky as I was expecting, though definitely a bit sluggish compared to what we expect now.

MW2 came first and I much prefer the idea of revisiting it and getting every gun or at least one gun fully equipped with attachments and camos. I do kind of miss the idea that the attachments are one-and-done “game changers” and that each attachment on a gun counts as basically an entire different weapon since it changes it so much. Pro Perks seem unbalanced though and as always, the effects are simply insane how some perks are devastating (stopping power) and some are nearly pointless. Very funny to see tactical insertion as a grenade, only 3 tactical, and the bizarre “blast mask” as a grenade. Also I had forgotten that shotguns were a secondary in MW2! I’ve already had a lot of fun in the menus alone and I haven’t even started an actual match in it yet. not to mention spec ops!

#retro gaming #gaming #CoD #call of duty #Xbox

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Pepperony Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange

to the wonderful @pepperonyspizza ! i’m not used to writing high school aus, but i tried my best. i hope you enjoy!

It was the start of the school year, and Rhodey could honestly say this was the year he would help Tony blow the gym up. 

“You’re the one in JROTC,” Tony waved his hand around, as if gesturing vaguely to the gymnasium proved his point. “You can’t complain.”

“I am complaining,” Rhodey said. “I am complaining so hard. They said just ‘cause I’ve been in JROTC for three years, I can’t be in tech lab this year. Something about ‘conflict of interest,’ whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“They’re not letting you take it? Like, at all?”

“Nah,” Rhodey sighed. “They don’t have any control over what classes I take. But the instructor’s got a lot of pull, you know? And he could make my life difficult for the rest of my high school career.”

“If you don’t take tech lab with me,” Tony announced, rounding a curve and nearing their lockers, “I will throw a fit. I will turn the slushie machine in the cafeteria into a hose that will not stop. I will break into the principal’s office and play the Siberian national anthem over the intercom. I will-”

“I know,” Rhodey laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m taking the class.”

“Good,” Tony said, and Rhodey leaned against the lockers to watch Tony struggle with opening the locker. To make up for the trouble Rhodey was having, the universe had decided to give Tony a top locker, and Rhodey was enjoying this immensely.

“You need some help over there?” Rhodey asked, amused, watching as the kid genius propelled himself to his tip-toes with all the energy in his body. He still couldn’t see the locker numbers properly.

“If you’d just let me climb on your shoulders,” Tony said between labored breaths, “we wouldn’t be having this problem right now.”

“Oh no, that would take away my entertainment!”

“You’re the best, Rhodes. Quite literally the most helpful friend.”

“Glad to be of service.”

“Um...excuse me?”

Rhodey turned to see a girl standing near Tony’s locker. She was tall, looking almost shy when she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, but there was a steel in her voice that Rhodey wasn’t used to hearing come out of the mouth of a high school kid. 

“That’s my locker,” the girl said, pointing to the locker right underneath Tony’s.

“Yeah, well, I’m a little busy right now,” Tony said, tongue peeking out of his mouth. “I gotta get this open before class starts.”

“You’re not the only one with a class to get to,” she said.

“Well, I was here first.”

“Real mature,” she said, then dropped down to her knees and shoved Tony to the side. Ignoring Tony’s protested shout, she opened her locker smoothly, exchanging a couple books, then shut the door with a click, walking off without glancing back once.

After a minute of silence, Tony turned to Rhodey and said, “Did you see that? Did that just happen.”

“She had a point, y’know.”

“I know she had a point, but she shoved me to the side! I almost fell! Did you see me almost fall?” 

“You didn’t, though, did you?” Rhodey said. “So it doesn’t matter.”

“Thanks for your support, Rhodey,” Tony’s tone was mocking. “I guess I’ll just have to go into battle alone?”

“Battle?”

“War.”

“War?”

“With the girl. She dishonoured me, and now I have to figure out how to open this goddamn locker so I can win my honour back over a period of time that consists of me opening this piece of junk with the best lock-opening skills since, uh, who’s that one famous locksmith?”

“There are famous locksmiths?”

Tony waved his hand. “Of course there are famous locksmiths. Otherwise the famous locks would be stuck every time they needed to be fixed.”

“Your logic astounds me.”

“This is war, Rhodey!”

---

It was midway through the school year, and Rhodey was certain that Tony was losing the war.

The girl, Pepper Potts, had proven herself a formidable component, and Tony-wrangling had turned into a much easier pastime with her around. Initially wanting nothing to do with them, Pepper soon learned the lesson that Rhodey had figured out years ago: you don’t catch the attention of Tony Stark and not end up becoming his friend. Or his enemy, but Rhodey wasn’t sure any sixteen year old should have an “enemy,” no matter what Tony said.

Now, along with their locker espionage and warfare, Rhodey got to witness the absolute delight of Tony staring at Pepper’s chest without a hint of shame, but blushing as red as the colour of their school mascot the minute Pepper smiled at him. Rhodey was seriously considering recording all of this for blackmail material.

He was leaning against the wall near Tony and Pepper’s locker, a place he honestly probably spent more time in than his room. “The bell rings in two minutes,” Rhodey said.

“Shit!” Pepper exclaimed, shoving Tony off her books, where he’d been balancing on one foot, attempting to open his locker blindfolded. “I’m going to be late.”

“Looks like someone’s admitting defeat then, right?” Tony crowed, throwing his arms up in victory.

“No, you moron,” Pepper slapped his arm lightly. “I’m not admitting defeat, but I’m about to mess up my perfect attendance record.”

She rushed through getting her belongings together while Tony rolled his eyes. “Right, I forgot you care about this stuff.”

“I do, Tony. I really do.”

“Well what do you want me to do about it?”

“Here’s a thought,” Rhodey spoke up from the corner, exasperation filling his tone. “How about the two of you, wait for it, switch lockers?”

The two of them looked as if they’d never considered the idea before.

Then, Tony said, “You’re a genius, Rhodeybear!”

“I know,” Rhodey said. 

“I’ll give you my combo after school,” Pepper was walking backward, nearing the end of the hallway, “but if I don’t leave now I really will get a tardy. You two need to get to class.”

“I’ve got a free period,” Rhodey said.

“I’m making myself a free period,” Tony said.

---

“There’s no way she’ll say no!” Tony argued, and Rhodey sighed, putting his head in his hands.

“Tony, that is literally the worst line in the history of pickup lines.”

“You’re wrong, it’s beautiful.”

Sometimes, Rhodey really questioned the quality of his taste in best friends. 

“If you’ve been reading the entire situation wrong,” Rhodey said, “Pepper will slap you.”

“Do you think I’ve been reading the situation wrong?”

Honestly? No. Rhodey was pretty sure organizing Tony’s locker for him and giving him a custom planner for his birthday was Pepper’s way of flirting. Tony had, unfortunately, picked up on it, and the last couple of weeks had been full of Tony raving to Rhodey about how incredible Pepper was.

Rhodey could give Tony an itemized list of reasons why Pepper was incredible, none of them including a freeverse poem about the way she looked when she nibbled on a pencil, but he had to admit, Pepper had been good for him. There had generally been less miniature controlled explosions this year, so now, in May, Rhodey was hoping Tony’s frankly awful plan to ask Pepper would be successful so she would stick around for the near future.

“Oh wait hold on, she’s coming,” Tony said, and sauntered up to the locker, aiming for cool as he always did and ending up about two feet too short (as he always did.) “Pep, I got something for ‘ya.”

“Oh really?” she raised her eyebrows.

Rhodey mentally prepared himself.

“Mhmm. I changed the combination to your locker.” Tony handed Pepper a slip of paper. “Here’s the new one.”

And here it comes, he thought.

“Tony,” Pepper said slowly. “This is your phone number.”

Tony raised his eyebrows, smirking. “Why yes. Yes it is. I’m giving you my phone number. Imagine that.”

Then, enunciating each word as if talking to a toddler, Pepper said, “Tony. I already have your phone number.”

Oh dear God, Rhodey wished he had been recording this. A tremendous oversight on his part, because he was struggling to keep it together.

Tony blinked as if processing, then apparently decided the bluntest approach was the best approach. “Pepper, I’m asking you out.”

Pepper squinted. “Like actually?”

“Yes, Virginia, I’m actually asking you out. That’s what giving people your number means.”

“If I already had your number, though, the action’s redundant.”

“That’s not the poi-Jesus. Pepper. Will you go out with me or not?”

“Yes, Tony. I’ll go out with you,” Pepper said, but before Tony could properly celebrate this moment of elation, she also said, “Now move. You’re in front of my locker.”

Oh yeah, Rhodey could tell Pepper would be staying around for a bit longer. Maybe even more than a bit. And looking at Tony’s surprised blink and offended expression, Rhodey couldn’t find it in himself to be the least bit disappointed.

#well that's that #short and sweet #pepperony #james rhodes #war machine #tony stark #iron man #pepper potts #pepperony fic #pepperony ficlet #pepperony headcanon #james rhodes fic #james rhodes ficlet #james rhodes headcanon #rhodey #rhodey fic #rhodey headcanon #rhodey ficlet #war machine fic #war machine ficlet #war machine headcanon #tony stark fic #tony stark headcanon #tony stark ficlet #iron man fic #iron man ficlet #iron man headcanon #pepper potts fic #pepper potts ficlet #pepper potts headcanon

[gayregis]

I’m an army girl. Grew up surrounded by the military because of my parents and family. I watched them save and train boys and girls that were either going to end up dead or in prison, into amazing men and woman with the whole world at their grasps. They trained and taught and raised and gave them all their energy and love. One of the youngest men to join the Royal Marines was trained and taught by my parents. Now a fireman still saving lives without question. No the military isn’t perfect; but other establishments are not either. Soldiers have and will always put their life’s on the line to defend your freedom without asking questions. I’ve seen it first hand. History has proven so. If you haven’t stepped foot inside the U.K. military and seen it at every angle; good and bad, don’t speak on it at all. His brothers were and are heroes point blank. Period. The fact that you sit behind a keyboard and rip apart an establishment you know nothing about, is awful and offensive to every single man and woman who has been injured or lost their lives. I’m proud of my background. I’m proud of my parents, family and the U.K. armed forces. I’m disgusted you can so blindly voice hatred for a man and a background based on nothing but rumours and tabloids. Get help and please find something better to do. You honestly should be ashamed.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Empire

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_war_crimes

https://www.britannica.com/summary/Transatlantic-Slave-Trade-Key-Facts

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Western-colonialism/The-British-Empire

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/culture/topics/reference/colonialism/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/India%E2%80%93United_Kingdom_relations

https://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/empire_seapower/east_india_01.shtml

Churchill's secret war: The British empire and the ravaging of India during World War II

Colonial justice in British India

Savage Warfare: Violence and the rule of colonial difference in early british counterinsurgency

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opium_Wars

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Famine_(Ireland)

https://www.britannica.com/topic/neocolonialism

The new colonialism: Britain’s scramble for Africa’s energy and mineral resources

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antisemitism_in_the_United_Kingdom

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Islamophobia_in_the_United_Kingdom

and since this is a witcher books blog after all:

(time of contempt)

(tower of the swallow)

#ask #anon #have you ever spoken to anyone affected by the atrocities which your family commits? #also i would advise against using litotes when speaking about colonial genocide: 'it isn't perfect' ... it killed millions of people... #> an establishment you know nothing about ... i know that everyone around the world has had their lives ruined by your country's military

[ziracona]

Please don't take this as offensive (im sorry if i come across that way, i hope not) but i really wouldn't take someone like Yourself to be a Fates fan. Fates and Fgo just tends to be filled with a lot of uh, Problems? For a lack of better words? The fandom and the content is just really REALLY weird to me. There's also like a ton of shows(games?), so im starting to wonder if I just started off on the wrong foot? Am i missing something?

​I am a being of many interests. Lol, you’re good though. I very much get it.

Fate is...a weird mix? I don’t even think I can call myself a proper ‘Fate fan,’ because while I collect secondhand info like a lint roller takes lint, I’ve barely experienced any of even just the shows (which is an intentional choice). You are actually correct both times; it is both games and shows. And more. It started as a multi-path lite novel, which got adapted into anime, and more. There’s the big shows, which mostly connect to the original novel, plus a bunch of stories set in that expanded universe, in show game and more formats. I have no idea what you started on, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was bad, because Fate tends to be a roulette wheel. Basically, the short version is that the reason for this is Fate swaps out like their whole creative team for every show and game and thing, and every fuckin /arc/ of Fate Go, so the quality will vary from “Huh. That was...something” to “Oh my god that was a waste of so many hours wtf that was /god/awful” to “oh worm??! This is kinda fun” to “i-is this a spiritual experience?”

So they’re all kind of connected but also not really? I can’t think of a good thing to liken it to, because it’s a weird way to do something, but even many stories with the exact same characters are written or adapted by completely different teams, so they’re kind of all connected in name more than anything else? It’s very much a consume and take or leave only specifically what you want kind of thing.

I can’t speak to the fandom because I’m not really...in it? And have only ever gone into the tags for gifs. But I would not be surprised if a lot of the most vocal ones are terrifying. It seems like that’s often the case in many fandoms regrettably.

Tbh I can’t honestly speak to most Fate media. The only game I have played is Go, the little gatcha phone game. Honestly, anybody who played/plays Fate Go too and wants to roast me for it has free rein. It’s ridiculous, and goofy, and often stupid, sometimes straight up terrible, but also sometimes kind of fantastic. Florence Nightengale tried to chop off all my limbs when she met me and beat a president up to ‘fix’ him. King David pulled the sickest tactical finess in the history of warfare. The game made fun of everyone who takes shipping too seriously and roasted them all in an event which gave me great screenshots for future use:

It’s a super mixed bag, which is sometimes actually fantastic, and sometimes so bad that I am like “I...want to commit assault against whoever just did the art alone.” But I just kind of skip the downticks and stick around for arcs that get the good writers. It’s goofy, but some of it has made me genuinely happy, and that’s extremely valuable to me right now. (On a good arc) It’s like, the right mesh of funny and serious and goofy and low key but clever for me to get really into but in like consistently a light and non-stressful way.

The only anime I have actually watched is Unlimited Blade Works, which I thought was phenomenal and it wrecked me as a human being. It’s also very beautiful and has some of the best animated fight scenes in anything I have seen ever, and I would wholeheartedly recommend it. I can’t speak to any of the others. And I don’t want to watch any of the other OG paths and no one can make me. But UBW lives rent free in my soul. I mean:

If you were a normal human being, you will probably watch this and go “Some of that was confusing, but it was pretty neat. 8/10 stars.” If you wanted to sincerely be a superhero as a kid or god forbid are like me and still haven’t entirely given up on that dream deep down, it’ll be a 13/10 but it will also crush your soul and leave it in little glass shards. Worth it tho. 13/10, would rewatch a 5th time.

Anyway there was your long and unnecessary breakdown of me and fate. The TLDR is I’m actually just the “I have approximate knowledge of many things” guy from Adventure Time and know very little comprehensively. Go is stupid, but the times it’s great are worth the times I want to die to me personally, as a phone game. And UBW is high art and it hurt me in a way that was worthwhile because it made me feel truly heard even if in a painful way by at least one other person. And also it’s just kind of a killer of a story.

#ask #anonymous #fate #if this ends up in the fate tags please be nice to me I am very sad right now and I don’t know much about other fate so I won’t understand #and if you think one of the others is better or have thoughts unlike mine on go or something that’s cool and valid but please don’t yell #them at me I am so tired I just want to enjoy things that I find comforting rn :’-]

[whitehotharlots]

Castle of Delusion: The theft of the 2020 caucus and the liberal worship of failure

 I attended Iowa Democratic caucuses in 2000, 2004, 2008, and then 2020. I’ll spare you the narrative details, but immediately after Monday’s caucus I remarked about how smoothly the new system ran. The cumbersome head count voting process of past years was replaced with an easily grasped card system that allowed supporters of viable candidates to leave after casting their fist vote (previously, they’d have to stay through re-alignment and a second head count, a process that took us about 3 hours in 2008). So cards were easier, clearer, and came with the added bonus of a paper trail. Things seemed great.

In my precinct, Sanders tied delegate-wise with Pete and Biden. This precinct was, even by Iowa’s august standards, incredibly old and incredibly white, so a tie for Bernie boded very well. Everyone was convivial. Aside from the Yang supporters being unable to perform basic arithmetic after the initial vote, there were no delays or hitches. Sure, no one knew how the reporting app was going to work—information regarding as much had never materialized, in spite of repeated promises that they’d be on top of it—but it was figured that the county chair would simply report the votes via telephone, as had been the process as far back as everyone could remember.

Post-caucus, my stomach was shot and I was as emotionally drained as I’d ever been, so I got back to my parent’s house and commenced playing video games—staying away from social media and cable news until I could be certain the results had been called. Come midnight, I saw what everyone else saw: something bad had happened, something no one could quite describe, and so they weren’t going to release votes that night. Rachel Maddow’s weird gross skeleton face was beaming with relief: this is great news for the party, she said, because it was great news for Michael Bloomberg. I commenced to get blackout drunk and post threats on social media.

At first, I went against my personal experience (and intuition, and common sense) and blamed the failure on run-of-the-mill incompetence. We are now, however, more than 40 hours past the point when most votes were cast, and 24 hours past the Polk County chair confirming that his results—in one of Iowa’s largest districts, where Sanders was projected to dominate—had been submitted. The state party is simply refusing to count votes. They are rigging their own election, disenfranchising their own voters.

I’m not going to speculate on the strategic thinking of the mental defectives who have risen to leadership positions with state and national Democratic parties. Maybe they’ll never count the Polk County votes. Maybe they’ll only do so weeks from now, so as to deny Sanders any momentum and allow that rat-faced piece of shit Mayor Pete to continue to falsely claim victory. Maybe this is meant to protect the Biden campaign from total collapse. Maybe it’s meant to boost Bloomberg. Who knows, who cares. The point is, these people are cheating in plain sight. They are doing so brazenly. They are literally refusing to count the votes of members of their own party so as to squelch an election result they find unfavorable.

Partisan corruption is nothing new, and certainly not exclusive to the contemporary Democratic party. What’s striking about this, however, is the nakedness of both its machinations and the disdain the party is showing to its own voters. Yes, Mayor Daley most likely destroyed Nixon votes to shore up Illinois for Kennedy. Yes, the Bush campaign ginned up astroturf protests to prevent a full recount in Florida. Yes, the AP called the entire primary for Hillary the day before California was set to vote, so as to depress turn out. All of these acts were disgusting, the sort of raw cynicism that destroys the few remaining vestiges of legitimacy of this awful and broken country of ours. But all of these were done to seize power.  They all contained some element of deniability, some sense of awareness of the need to control public perception, to not so obviously telegraph the actors’ hatred toward democracy.

The theft of the 2020 Iowa Caucus is, in short, an act so proudly and openly corrupt that it has no fair parallel in modern American history. No reasonable observer can conclude anything other than that the Democratic party is run by some of the stupidest and most corrupt people alive. And the fact that the party does not seem to realize this is a profound indictment of how deeply our few remaining liberal institutions are in the grip of a sort of suicidal delusion, a form of illiberal madness that worships its own destruction.

The only reasonable question is how? How did the Democratic party and its media allies come to be dominated by idiots who derive psychological gratification from failure, people whose hubris and self-certainty is so strong they think everyone else is dumb enough to not see that they’re cheating in plain sight?  

Like many other of the most malignant aspects of contemporary liberalism, this suicidal delusion was born in the darkest corners of academe. The thrust of the last few decades of cultural studies has been to demand that people reject understandings of the world that are traditional, intuitive, and commonsensical—even when these understandings aren’t materially malignant, and especially when they are backed up through empirical measurements.

Sometimes this has led to what most decent people would consider progress. It’s good, for example, that we’ve destigmatized homosexuality. But many more assertions—particularly those that have been argued for the most viciously throughout the last decade or so—are either objectively untrue or so far divorced from the lived reality of most people that very few of us actually believe them. Most people don’t believe that there exist no biological differences between men and women, for example, or that fatness doesn’t come with health consequences and/or isn’t correlated with diet and exercise. We don’t honestly believe that whiteness is a metaphysical force that is the true cause of all the world’s problems, nor that an implicit bias test is a fair measurement of anything, nor that person’s worth is more a matter of their collective identity markers than of their beliefs and actions. These assertions are all incredibly fringe, despicable to anyone who cares about empirical reality or possesses a moral compass that’s not founded entirely in self-serving relativism.

There exists a small caste of delusionists, however, who have forged careers from making these and other assertions. They are very prominent within their own, closed circles, and they receive no material pushback for their beliefs, even from the vast majority of people who have not been initiated into their cult. This is due to the solipsistic validation mechanisms of contemporary cultural studies, a milieu which suggests, simply, that its purveyors are right, everyone who doesn’t defer to them is some variety of fascist, and the fact that disagreement exists is fundamental proof of the righteousness of their claims. To members of this caste, delusion isn’t merely a virtue; it’s a currency. The more they anger and confuse outsiders, the more correct and admirable they become, and the higher their position of prominence within liberal institutions. 

This is the lesson of the “Sokal Squared” hoax, in which a team of authors managed to get several nonsense articles past peer reviewers at cultural studies journals, making arguments which ranged from incredibly offensive to beyond the realm of plausibility. Or, if you’ve fallen for the woke apologia and believe these works to be unworthy of consideration, let’s look at a more earnest piece, in which an author argues that drone bombing “queers” warfare. It’s reductive to merely call these arguments stupid. They are delusional. They are absurd and offensive in manner that’s all but guaranteed to confuse and anger a large majority of people. They go against basic common sense and decency and can in most cases be disproven empirically—and that’s exactly why they got through peer review so easily. The value here isn’t in attempting to adjudicate reality or even morality; it’s instead found in giving its purveyors a chance to revel in one another’s unboundedness to reality. Radicalism can no longer be differentiated from simple stupidity. The point is to announce one’s membership in the delusional caste. It’s good to be insane. It’s good to be revolting. It’s good to fail, because then you know you’re good.

The caste’s members eventually reach a plane of delusion so all-encompassing that they begin to disdain those of us who still possess a desire to engage with the world in honest or rational terms. These people—the hoard, the uninitiated, the rubes—they only exist to confirm the righteousness of the insiders. What they think they see therefore doesn’t matter. Their opinions don’t matter. Their votes, especially, do not matter. We’ll tell them what to think. We’ll tell them how the world exists. And if they disagree, well, that’s just evidence of how wrong they are...

[professional-benaddict]

Winterspider feat biodad!Tony ABO Military AU

Beta read by @starkerforlife6969 thank you darling xx

Bratty. No: bratty and slutty. That is how Bucky would describe the omega by his side, but he would never utter that aloud. The omega, Peter Stark, had perfected the art of getting his will, knowing just how to bat his long lashes, make his voice more high-pitched in a whine and pout his plump lips in a frown. Bucky, being a beta himself, took pride in the control he had over his urges, which is more than most Alphas, but on the other hand, their ruthless nature makes them far better soldiers than Bucky could ever be. However, when Peter had promised that he could 'fuck him good and deep till he sobbed’, Bucky felt all his defences drop to the dusty ground and nodded eagerly. After all, the boy said his father had requested him specifically, so how could he not escort him there? 

As they walked through the military camp and numerous passing soldiers gave the boy by his side a double-take, Bucky began to question his decision. Although, there were many possible reasons as to why they were being stared down so hard. Either, because Peter was very obviously a civilian with his clean and milky skin, clothing that was not camouflage and laid back shoulders in the desert war-zone. Another explanation to the curious gazes was the fact that he was an omega. There was no law that banned omegas from joining the army, but everyone knew about the discrimination in the recruiting process, although it was not spoken about. Some said it was because of the delicate and slender body-types of omegas that made them unfit for such a physically demanding job, while others said it was because Alphas and betas would not be able to control themselves with too many omegas around. When the tenth soldier shot them a look, Bucky couldn’t help himself as he grew a little anxious and asked the boy:

”Are you sure your father requested you to come? This is an active military zone, kid.” The beta 1st Lieutenant tried to argue, but Peter just shot him a disappointed look. 

”Are you going to disobey the Major General, 1st Lieutenant?” The omega asked teasingly, causing the beta to gulp in fear at the mentioned ranking. 

Barnes was just one out 15,000 men in the camp and together they made up the 16th division of the US Army, serving under Major General Anthony Stark, a powerful Alpha who survived torture and was still serving his country with a burning passion. Some would say with even more passion than before he was captured by the enemy. And Bucky was escorting his omega son to him. No big deal. Bucky had only caught a glimpse of the Major General during a parade a few days ago, but he knew about the man, the legend that he was from what he had heard from his fellow soldiers. 

The camp buzzed with the sound of heavy footsteps from marching soldiers, screams of agony from the medical tent and the roars and whirls from the warfare vehicles of all sizes and shapes. Bucky could have fulfilled his self-appointed task, if only they had taken another route through the camp, because when they approached the medical tents, they bumped into a doctor as he existed the tent. The doctor was a stern looking Alpha and his eyes hardened when he saw Bucky escorting the civilian. Luckily, Bucky had not had much contact with the medical corps in their division, unlike some other unlucky soldiers, but he saw by the silver eagle on the doctor’s shoulder that he was a Colonel and fell into position. 

“Colonel, I-“ 

“Shut it!” The Alpha doctor barked and the beta fell silent, very much expecting a scolding from his superior officer like he was a badly behaved child, but instead the Alpha turned to the omega to give him the scolding. 

“What on Earth are you doing here, Peter?! Do you realise the danger you are in?! Does your aunt know you’re here? What about your mother?” 

Wait- do they know each other? The boy had said that the Major General was his father, not Colonel Strange M.D., which Bucky read from the name tag on the doctor’s camouflage scrubs. 

“I’m on a school trip.” The young omega answered with a bite in his tone. “I demand to see my father, Stephen. Now.” 

He what now? The arrogance of this omega was unheard of and Bucky struggled with keeping his eyes up and not looking at the boy by his side in awe. The doctor growled in the back of his throat before speaking again. 

“A school trip…” He chuckled dangerously, placing his hands on his hips. “Well, I don’t want to know how you got here, hardly matters anyway. Neither do your demands for that matter because this is war, Petey, and you are going straight back home, with a quick stop to the closest US embassy.” The Alpha doctor made a move to grab the omega by his arm, but the boy stepped back. 

“I came for a reason, Stephen, for God’s sake! I need to see my father, now! And I won’t leave until I do!” 

“Well, I have a very hard time understanding why.” The Alpha argued back. “You should be with your mother, Peter, for Christ sake. How could you leave her in such a state?” 

“That’s why I’m here! She’s dying in two weeks!” Peter said finally, bringing a sudden end to their argument as Strange took a step back, his face a little softer now. The omega bowed his head down and kicked the ground with his boot. Turning to Bucky, the Colonel spoke sharply. 

“Lieutenant, what is your name?” 

Snapping his eyes up, Bucky straightened his back even more, maybe even puffed his chest out a little to try and size up to the bigger Alpha. 

“James Barnes, Sir.”

“On whose orders are you escorting this civilian?” 

Well, fuck. Technically, it was his own, which meant he was out of order and disobeyed his superior officers. What was he thinking? God, the way the omega had batted his lashes, though, the warm orange light of the setting sun in his chocolate brown eyes, his voice like golden honey in his ear as he made the offer in exchange for taking him to his father. 

“His…?” The beta tried, gesturing to the omega by his side with his eyes. Before the Alpha could start shouting, Bucky added. “He said his father had requested him, Sir.” 

Of course it was a lie, and Bucky should have known right away. He deserved the oncoming friendly fire for being played by a kid, honestly. Defying all of Bucky’s expectations, and perhaps even some of Peter’s, the Colonel sighed in defeat. 

“All right. I’ll take you to your father.” 

Peter seemed to perk up at that and skipped over to the Colonel to stand by his side, looking at him all doe eyed and adorable. Much to his confusion, Bucky felt a knot of jealously in his stomach at seeing the omega by the powerful Alpha. He had met the omega just a while ago, they were practically strangers, but still the beta felt suddenly very possessive of the boy. Even if he had made the promise of sex only to get to his father, Bucky still held onto that inside of him as he watched the Colonel walk away from him with the boy. After a few steps, the Alpha spoke over his shoulder. 

“You’re coming too, Barnes.” 

Following obediently, Bucky felt lightheaded with all the scary scenarios of meeting the Major General. Meeting such a high ranking officer was rarely a good thing and Bucky prepared himself mentally for the biggest ass-whooping in the history of the US Army. 

As they walked, Bucky could hear how the conversation between the Alpha and the omega was a little more lighthearted and friendly now. The Colonel asked about an MJ, to which Peter blushed a little and changed the topic to his latest classes. 

Soon, they arrived at the more exclusive tents of the senior officers, but no one seemed to bat an eye at Peter now that he was escorted by an Alpha Colonel and they were let into a large tent with a little red flag with two stars in the middle: the Major General’s flag. 

There were only three people inside the tent, stood by a table with two computers and tons of maps and other documents. Some files had a large red stamp on the cover which read ‘top secret’. Bucky averted his eyes right away and moved to salute, as did Strange, but Peter darted over to one of the three people in the tent. The man in question looked up just in time, before the young omega crashed into his chest and wrapped his arms around him tightly, letting out a little tearless sob. 

“Dad!”

“P-Peter…?” The Major General said quietly, literally having the breath knocked out of him by the sight of his son. One could only guess how long it had been since they had last seen each other. Bucky would guess nearly a year by how the Alpha wrapped his arms even tighter around his boy, burying his nose in those brown curls. The Lieutenant saw the resemblance easily, even though they were Alpha and omega. It was like Peter was a softer and more delicate version of his father, but still with the same brown eyes and hair. 

Bucky couldn’t help but feel his heart grow warm at the sight of the father and son embracing one another tightly. However, the sweet moment was cut short when the Major General grasped his son's shoulders to push him back to get a proper look at him. 

“You’re taller…” The Alpha deadpanned, looking Peter up and down. 

“No, Dad, I’m shorter.” The boy laughed a little. Then the absurdness of meeting his son seemed to hit and the Major General’s expression hardened before he shouted, causing Bucky to jump just a bit. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” 

Moodboard here

#my fics #winterspider #irondad #spiderson #james bucky barnes x peter parker #james bucky barnes #peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange

[flatsuke]

Just for fun: SLBP Mecha Anime AU

I’ve watched some mecha anime over the years and HOO BOY I love em so much! I love how the setting is ALWAYS political intrigue mixed with warfare....good stuff.

Anyway, I thought it’d be cool to visualize an AU where the lords + MC pilot mechas, so here it is! I’m taking a LOT of creative and historical liberties here, so don’t take this too seriously. Loooong self-indulgent post below:

Background: 

In an alternate history where Sengoku Era Japan’s warfare is characterized by mechas and droids instead of swords and spears, several clans fight for the power to unite the country under one name. MC still mourns for her father, a mecha developer who died in the last war under the Oda Clan ten years ago, She vows never to get involved with battle and tries to live a peaceful life. 

One day, the magistrate forces an able-bodied member of every family to join the war and she enlists in her brother’s place. Her once-halcyon days turn into bloodshed, and the only thing keeping MC moving forward is her will to protect her family.

She is enlisted into the Sanada Clan and they initially berate her for being a subpar combat pilot until they realize she has her father’s talent in mecha development.

Nobunaga:

Leader of the Oda Clan and currently the leader of the most powerful mecha army in Japan.

Pilots the Devil King, a combat mecha that specializes in rallying, artillery, aerial combat, and bladed attacks. 

Despite owning one of the best offensive mecha units, he mostly gives orders from Kiyosu, the Oda Clan’s main flagship.

Is not only an ace pilot, but also a genius tactician for destroying clans when his army was still made up of ragtag fighters and amateur mecha units. Nobunaga literally clawed his way up to power and he is respected and feared for it.

Mecha model used: The Fool, Nobunaga the Fool

Mitsuhide:

Nobunaga’s right-hand man and overseer of all logistics and operations in the Oda Army.

Pilots the Light of Honor, a sentry mecha that specializes in energy shields, artillery, rallying, and fortification.

His main job as a pilot is to guard Nobunaga or oversee the army under Nobunaga’s command. 

Is respected in the clan for being both a great pilot and an even greater diplomat.

Mecha model used: AW-ZZR520 (NN) Hauser Nonna Custom, CROSS ANGE

Yukimura:

General of the Sanada army and retainer to the Takeda Clan.

Pilots the Scarlet Sword, a combat mecha that specializes in bladed attacks, land combat, hand-to-hand combat, and mobility.

Is known as an ace pilot for having a natural affinity with mecha piloting. He is a better fighter than strategist, and he usually acts on Nobuyuki’s or Shingen’s command.

Thinks of MC as fragile at first because of her bad combat piloting, but apologizes (and admires her) later on when she reprograms his mecha for aerial combat.

Mecha model used: Guyale, Knight’s & Magic

Saizo:

A mercenary working for the Sanada Clan and a master assassin.

Pilots Utsusemi, a stealth mecha that specializes in espionage, terrain adaptation, guerrilla warfare, and mobility.

His mecha is unique because it’s programmed to be synchronized to Saizo’s exact combat pattern and movements. However, it’s also dangerous to pilot because any damage to the mecha will also directly damage Saizo.

Is suspicious at MC’s sudden appearance in the Sanada Clan at first. When she jumps in front of him (in her scrappy mecha no less) to protect him from an energy blast barrage, he starts to trust her more.

Mecha model used: EVA-03, Neon Genesis Evangelion

Masamune: 

Leader of the Date Clan and master of mecha flight proficiency.

Pilots the One-Eyed Dragon, a combat mecha that specializes in aerial combat, atmospheric flight, projectile weaponry, and endurance.

Oshu is home to Neo Jade, a mineral known for being a very powerful superconductor, which is valuable for mecha units. Oshu exports about 80% of the country’s Neo Jade, but other clans want to monopolize it to gain more power.

His mecha’s wings can also be used as shields.

Mecha model used: Hekiryugo, CROSS ANGE

Kojuro:

Masamune’s right-hand man and overseer of the Date Clan’s daily clerical affairs.

Pilots the Dragon’s Claws, a support mecha that specializes in rallying, energy shields, mechanized armor, and fortification.

Mostly takes care of matters in the Date’s main flagship, Yonezawa.

When he does appear on the field, he rarely ever leaves Masamune’s side on the off-chance someone tries to assassinate him.

Mecha model used: Prussian Blue Star, Iron Saga

Hideyoshi:

Retainer of the Oda Clan and head of their sub-flagship, Nagahama.

Pilots the Sun Wukong, a sentry mecha that specializes in fortification, mechanized armor, rallying, and endurance.

He used to be a mere foot soldier piloting a scrappy mecha until Nobunaga saw his talent for tactics and diplomacy.

He and his retainers (Kiyomasa, Masanori, etc.) fight efficiently as one unit.

Mecha model used: Goku, Nobunaga the Fool

Inuchiyo:

Retainer of the Oda clan and general of the Oda Clan’s vanguard.

Pilots the Spear of Arako, a combat mecha specializing in land combat, hand-to-hand combat, bladed attacks, and endurance.

Is an ace pilot and is feared for his mastery of his mecha spear. 

When he hears the MC is forced to enlist, he vehemently tries to veto the magistrate’s decision. Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep his childhood friend out of the war, so he decides to support her by protecting her in his own way.

Mecha model used: Cypher, Cyber Troopers Virtual-On

Ieyasu:

Leader of the Tokugawa Clan and master of artillery. 

Pilots the Golden Archer, a combat mecha that specializes in artillery, aerial combat, energy shields, and atmospheric flight.

Is currently in an alliance with the Oda Clan for their superior army and the Date Clan for their Neo Jade supply, but is patiently waiting for an opportunity to establish his own independent power.

He programmed his own mecha to have a 0.000005% margin of error when aiming, so his projectile aim is almost perfectly accurate.

Mecha model used: Artemis, Iron Saga

Mitsunari:

Hideyoshi’s retainer and a master tactician.

Pilots the Scholar, a sentry mecha that specializes in energy shields, fortification, mechanized armory, and terrain analysis.

Is one of the best tacticians in the Oda Army and is one of the heads of drafting the battle map.

He purposely chose a sentry mecha instead of a combat mecha because he believes he could protect Hideyoshi should the need arise.

Mecha model used: Vassago, Iron Saga

Kenshin:

Leader of the Uesugi Clan and master of bladed combat.

Pilots the God of War, a combat mecha that specializes in bladed attacks, land combat, rallying, and endurance.

Arguably one of the best pilots among the lords, but doesn’t seem like it outside his mecha because of his seemingly happy-go-lucky personality.

Becomes absolutely unstoppable when he enters a battle trance.

Mecha model used: Ikaruga, Knight’s & Magic

Shingen:

Leader of the Takeda Clan and Nobunaga’s main rival for Divine Rule.

Pilots the Tiger of Kai, a combat mecha that specializes in land combat, bladed attacks, rallying, and mobility.

Though the Takeda Army’s mecha units are slightly behind in terms of specs in comparison to the Oda Army, their morale is unparalleled. Virtually everyone in the Takeda Army is willing to die for Shingen.

Lately, piloting his mecha is taking a toll on his health, but he’s not about to tell anyone about it anytime soon...

Mecha model used: Fuurin Kazan, Nobunaga the Fool

Shigezane:

Retainer of the Date Clan and head of the Date’s communications and logistics.

Pilots the Courageous, a sentry mecha that specializes in mechanized armor, rallying, energy shields, and artillery.

He serves as the Date’s public relations officer and morale booster. 

He used to pilot a combat mecha, but his old hand injury couldn’t take the strain.

Mecha model used: Taylor Star, Iron Saga

Nobuyuki:

Heir to the Sanada Clan and the army’s chief tactician.

Pilots the Legacy, a support mecha that specializes in aerial transport, fuel transfer, emergency repairs, and rallying. 

Doesn’t really fight on the front lines in comparison to Yukimura, but is a very talented tactician and chooses to delegate tasks in the main flagship, Ueda.

That said, he can pilot combat mechas (and is actually pretty good at it). It’s just that he prefers to be behind-the-scenes for the most part.

Mecha model used: Syrphime, Knight’s & Magic

MC:

A fledgling pilot who everyone initially looks down on for being a terrible combat pilot, but later on, they realize her true talent lies in mecha development and optimization, similar to her father.

Pilots the Sakura, a support mecha she developed herself. It started out as a scrappy mecha she was forced to use as a foot soldier until she modded it to fit her better. It specializes in aerial transport, fuel transfer, mecha repairs, and flight sequences.

Spends most of her time outside her mecha trying to repair other units in the army.

Is honestly scared of fighting and war, but will not hesitate to jump into the line of fire to protect her loved ones.

Mecha model used: Magenta Ten, Majestic Prince

#just for fun #slbp #samurai love ballad party #voltage inc #spade writes #slbp mecha au #oda nobunaga #slbp nobunaga #akechi mistuhide #slbp mitsuhide #sanada yukimura #slbp yukimura #kirigakure saizo #slbp saizo #date masamune #slbp masamune #katakura kojuro #slbp kojuro #toyotomi hideyoshi #slbp hideyoshi #maeda toshiie #slbp inuchiyo #slbp toshiie #tokugawa ieyasu #slbp ieyasu #ishida mitsunari #slbp mitsunari #uesugi kenshin #slbp kenshin #takeda shingen

[tobrodachi]

Mexico’s own little Yuuka Kazami

Or how a fertility god representative of the corn became demonized and got turned into A Big Motherfucker.

Xipe Tótec, as baptized by the Yope tribe over at Guerrero and imported by the Mexica, was these guy’s God Of Corn And Fertility. Yeah, this motherfucker is the god that makes plants grow, let that sink in. However, why did I call this dude like that in the subtitle?

Let me tell y’all a little about Xipe Totec. He’s also known by another name, “Tlatlauhqui Tezcaltlipoca”, which is literally translated to “Red Tezcaltlipoca”. And no, while it has to do with more human sacrifice that prehispanic civilizations practiced, that name didn’t come from that.

Y’see, Xipe Totec was from the time when the 5th sun in mythology was born. He was one of THE Big Shots alongside Huitzilopochtli, Quetzalcoatl, and Tezcaltlipoca. Also, and since food was such a big deal back then and any sense of self-preservation is for cowards, turns out his legend talks about him plucking his own eyes out and skinning himself alive to make corn grow!

Wait, what?

Yeah, turns out that his name “Xipe Totec” can also be literally translated to “Flayed One”, fun fact!

So, while Super Meat Boy’s blind great-great-great-great-grandpa was running around trying to feed mesoamerican tribes, local gods were being awed in response, and the humans?

“Damn, we gotta get some more of this corn stuff, it’s great.”

“How do we grow it?”

“I dunno--- WAIT, I’VE GOT AN IDEA!”

And that’s probably how the Tlacaxipehualiztli festivities were born!

What’s that, you ask?

Why, it’s just the day where they celebrate the 5th sun being born by having several captured warriors fight in a gladiatorial style to represent each different god, all because the Mexicas thought that anger born through battle was the most pure of emotions. After that, they were ritually sacrificed, their hearts ripped out, AND their skin flayed so that priests could dance while wearing the skin to represent Xipe Totec’s own images in several codexes, only for them to end up sacrificed as well, all so that corn would grow.

Man, talk about an expensive way to make blood meals for plants.

There’s also another theory of Xipe Totec ALSO taking over an aspect of Huitzilopochtli and becoming a God of War in the sense of bloodletting through warfare to make plants grow, while Huitzilopochtli handled the destructive part of war, but honestly? This shit’s mad confusing, especially since there’s a lot of historians dipping their fingers into trying to figure out what’s metaphor and what’s not.

There was also that one time when the Mexicas went and committed a faux pas so bad, they became exiled from their benefactors into a little swampy island in Lake Texcoco, which coincidentally HAD an eagle eating a snake while standing on a prickly pear.

What did they do to get exiled, though?

Y’see, before they could settle in any land, the Mexica tribe was acting as a mercenary town. Usual stuff for people being taught how to live like heels by one of their many God of Wars, just fight and everything will turn out A-OK! And since they were so effective at what they did, the Mexicas went and asked for the daughter of a random person (who just so casually happened to be the ruler of one of the lands they were doing chores for) like this.

“Hey, mind if we take your daughter to join the gods----“

“As in, holy matrimony? I’d be honored!”

“…. Yeah, sure let’s go with that.”

And that’s how she found out that “Become as gods” isn’t as good as it’s made out to be. You end up dead, possibly skinned after being forced into combat, and then worn by a creepy priest in front of your horrified dad, who most definitely expected something other than a reenactment of one of NieR:Automata’s most iconic moments before it could even be composed.

In conclusion, and tl;dr: Saying the history behind this dude is pretty damn fucking crazy is like saying water is wet.

I don’t know what to write about next, but hell, there’s a lot of material to uncover, so I’ll probably take a long while before deciding on anything.

#Eox's mesoamerican retellings

[shadowsong26fic]

AU Outlines: Other Fandoms Edition

So I know that probably like zero of my followers on this blog even go here but I was watching Person of Interest lately, and I’ve also been reading occasional Supernatural spoilers, because I used to be in that fandom and I occasionally get curious. Especially this most recent season. Naturally, this woke up some old characters/situations/etc. that I used to work with, which I’ve been occasionally toying with in the back of my head when I’m bored and/or procrastinating other projects.

I’ve been going back and forth on how I feel about the one plotline that interests me this season (and by back and forth I mean I was really excited when I first read that a particular character was back; engaged by the summaries/etc. I read from his first couple episodes, the third one intrigued me until I read more detailed spoilers and then I started to side-eye it a little bit...)

And then I read up on last week’s episode. And nope, all my excitement is gone, replaced by Pissed for reasons I’m not sure I can actually articulate. (Though I kind of attempted to in the tags here on my personal blog.)

...honestly, I probably should’ve known better; making this kind of storyline really pay off/work would require a lot of attention given to a tertiary character, and given SPN’s track record with the internal worlds and motivations of characters who are not the Big Three, and the fact that they’ve been ignoring a lot of their established angel/vessel lore, the way Claire’s backstory more or less got completely forgotten...I should not have gotten my hopes up. Sigh.

ANYWAY this is now officially Spite Fic(tm). Here, have an outline of a Supernatural/Person of Interest crossover.

Starring Nick.

...uh, before I actually start, I should probably get some background out of the way.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, Person of Interest is a TV show that ran for five seasons, 2011 - 2016. Without c/ping the opening narration, the basic premise of the show is that, in the wake of 9/11, genius software engineer Harold Finch built a surveillance and analysis program, in an effort to prevent similar future tragedies. Out of fear that his creation would be abused, he designed the Machine as a closed system--basically, all that’s provided is an ID number (usually an SSN, at least for US citizens; but Our Heroes get a green card number in one episode, and a student ID number in another), and the person that number indicates is key to unravelling whatever is going down. The Machine was initially designed to predict mass casualty events/terrorism and provide the (relevant) number to the designated government operatives, at which point human intelligence takes over. However, the Machine also identifies things like…gang warfare/one-on-one premeditated murder (irrelevant numbers). That’s where Our Heroes come in.

The first half of the series is basically a procedural with a twist—each episode, the main characters get an irrelevant number (or more; the record was I believe 38 in one episode). They don’t always know how that person is involved, whether they’re the victim or the killer/perpetrator. In a few memorable cases, the number was arguably both.

Then, in the second half, a rival AI (Samaritan) is brought online, and the series becomes somewhat darker in tone and shifts into a cyberpunk apocalypse story. With a few regular irrelevant numbers thrown in on occasion as well, for good measure. For the purposes of this outline, we don’t care so much about POI B, for reasons I will explain, but it bears mentioning. Especially since Greer is still hanging around and trying to bring Samaritan or something similar online.

Right. On to some memorable/notable/important characters.

Our Heroes are Finch, who, as I said, designed and built the Machine. For various reasons, he’s living off the grid (he’s a very private person). Using a backdoor built into the Machine, as of when the series starts, he receives the irrelevant numbers. But he lacks the skills/ability to intervene directly, so he recruits John Reese.

Reese, then, is Finch’s partner/employee/they are totally married; a former CIA assassin who is now presumed dead, he does most of the hands-on work with the numbers and becomes known as the Man in the Suit who is basically Batman.

Carter! Carter is freaking amazeballs; she is p. much the moral/ethical center of the show, one of their two cop friends who was actually trying to track them/Reese down and arrest him for the vigilante BS for the first half-season or so but then they became friends.

Fusco is their other cop friend; former dirty cop/member of an ring, initially recruited by Reese to work undercover in HR (as said ring is called), basically runs on a combination of Dogged Loyalty (the reason he joined HR in the first place, transfers that loyalty to Team Machine, gets his moral compass recalibrated, and becomes one of the most loveable dudes on the show) and Snark (featuring such delightful quotes as “What was I supposed to say? Sorry, boss, Agent King is really a superpowered nutball. Just ask my buddy, the urban legend.” Also at least once a season, he makes a comment to the effect of “just when I thought you guys couldn’t get any weirder…”).

(Also, he is, as my roommate puts it, Shaped Like A Dad.)

Shaw joins the team in Season 3; textbook (and canonical!) bisexual compact Persian sociopath (note: she has some sort of Axis II personality disorder that is occasionally called sociopathy in-universe, but that doesn’t quite fit); there’s…there’s really not much else one can say without just like summarizing everything she does or quoting ad nauseum.

Root! Root is introduced as a major antagonist; hacker/programmer on Finch’s level who works as a contract killer, her initial goal is to locate and free the Machine, which ends up recruiting her early in Season 3 and becoming…you know that particular kind of reformed villain that becomes the weird family member because yes they’re still kind of awful and murdery, and they did a great deal of damage to you and yours, but you’ve now been through Some Stuff together, and besides, they’re your awful and murdery, you know? So not exactly a redemption arc, but they’re one of the Heroes now and just kind of stick with it. Like Barbossa, in POTC. Or Vegeta. My roommate (referenced above) calls this the Weird Uncle trope. And she fits this trope really well and I love it. Also, she and Shaw are canonically girlfriends as of...s4 or s5, depending on how you look at things.

(Also, not necessarily relevant for this outline, but on the subject of Weird Uncles, one cannot talk about POI without mentioning Elias; our friendly neighborhood Mafia don. No, really.)

And Bear! Cannot forget Bear. Bear is Finch and Reese’s dog, acquired at the beginning of S2 and the most amazing. He also has a twitter! In Dutch!

On to some antagonists, Greer is not our friend. He works for/created a company called Decima Technologies; his goal is to bring an unrestricted AI online and let it run the world for complicated reasons relating to some of his experiences during the Cold War working for MI6. Also he has a very punchable face.

And then there’s Control, who runs the Relevant numbers program for the government. She is an awful, awful human being (fully aware of it, too; she has a great speech in the third season finale about how she’s a Necessary Evil and why) and I love her so much.

Okay, that’s the basics for the POI side of things. I can go on a lot longer if y’all want more details (I didn’t even cover my girl Zoe or Leon or…), but that should be enough foundation for the outline to make sense?

For the SPN side of things--I’m not going to summarize the canon background, due to it being the larger/primary-ish fandom. But in terms of the relevant AU stuff, I’m going more or less with the backstory I established for Nick for The Promises of Angels and Cartography!verse.

Basically, he was a high school history teacher; his wife and son were murdered by a serial killer known as the Chesapeake Ripper

(There might well have been/probably was some demonic involvement, though not in the same way as I think S14 canon established; basically either because a “talent scout” demon like that one s7 episode was already involved or because the Ripper was operating independently and a demon got involved later, he was pointed towards this particular woman and baby who fit his victim pool. Either way, Nick was targeted because he was the right bloodline and accessible, because vessel lines are a thing even if the show has forgotten that.)

(Also, Lucifer later took Nick to kill the Ripper. Signing bonus. So to speak.)

After Detroit, Nick gets picked up by Meg, who holds on to him for a while for a variety of reasons (information that might be buried in his memories from the year he spent possessed; the chance that he might be a new key to the Cage…) until the Leviathan turn up, at which point she no longer has the resources to keep him. She cuts him loose at that point, rather than killing him (mostly because she thinks Lucifer left him alive For A Reason and until she knows what that is, she can’t kill him).

So, at this point, in Promises or Cartography, Nick just sort of wanders around for a while until he runs into Claire or Jody, respectively.

For the purposes of this AU, he ends up drifting to New York instead.

And, with all that background out of the way, NOW we can get to the actual fun stuff.

…no, wait, I lied. One more note: as with p. much all my SPN projects, I am following Logical Time rather than Show Time. Which is to say, when calculating dates/figuring out where the timelines intersect/etc., I’m including the two skipped years (between S5/S6 and between S7/S8).

(That being said, I reserve the right to stop caring about the timeline later and just mashing things together as I think it would be entertaining.)

ANYWAY.

We open in the first half of POI S3, somewhere between “Mors Praematura” and “Endgame” (i.e., Root is in the library, but Carter hasn’t initiated her takedown of HR yet). If my math is right, this puts us either in S7 or during the second gap year for SPN.

It starts as most of these adventures do; Team Machine gets a new number.

“This one may be a bit of a project, I’m afraid,” Finch says. “Nick Cross has been missing for several years. He hasn’t been seen since May of 2009, and there’s been no electronic activity on his identity in that time, either.”

Of course, when they dig into his background, his wife and son getting murdered comes up.

“Any chance he killed them?” Reese asks.

“No, he was cleared at the time. They were victims of a serial killer, and Mr. Cross had solid alibis for three of the five incidents, including the one involving his wife and son.”

(Shaw, at that point, theorizes that Nick’s number came up because he somehow tracked the Chesapeake Ripper down and is planning to kill him. And, if that’s the case, doesn’t really see the point in stopping him.)

(“Start with finding him, Ms. Shaw,” Finch says. “We still don’t know if that is, in fact, what’s going on.”)

(Finch also doesn’t approve on principle, of course, but that is not an argument he wants to have with Shaw on this particular morning.)

(Plus, the Ripper seems to have stopped operating at around the same time Mr. Cross disappeared...so there’s a chance that Shaw’s theory is accurate, just out of date.)

In any case, they reason that the Machine wouldn’t have handed them his number if he weren’t alive and in range; Reese and Shaw ask Carter and Fusco to see what they can pull up, and start doing their own legwork.

Carter ends up being the first to find a lead—while on her regular patrol with Laskey, she spots a guy who matches the description, albeit with a few extra scars, and is acting a little off. Like he thinks he’s being followed/watched.

Reese goes to check it out, and this is where things get, uh, Weird.

See, here’s the thing. I love John Reese, and he is a man of Many Skills.

But, uh.

Being approachable and reassuring is Not Among Them.

Like. Don’t get me wrong. When he’s in Bodyguard Mode, it is exactly the right level of Intimidating. He just…has trouble turning it off.

Look, the dude is a semi-retired CIA spysassin and it oozes out of every pore unless he works really hard to tone it down.

(And sometimes even then.)

And since this is just, like, preliminary surveillance to see if this guy Carter spotted really is their number, and he’s not planning to make contact yet, he’s not really focusing on toning it down.

So, when Nick spots him, guess what this looks like to him.

Yep, he thinks Reese is an angel.

He runs.

Reese: “....yeah, pretty sure that’s our number. And he just made me.”

(If Carter didn’t already, Reese probably also mentions that the five-year-old DMV photo they’re working from is out of date; Nick is pretty badly scarred, they look kind of like radiation burns.)

Of course, it was hard enough to find Nick in the first place, so Reese doesn’t want to lose him again. So, made or not, he continues following. Hoping to get to a position where he can make contact and figure out what’s going on. Or just keep tabs on him until Shaw can catch up and take over.

(Not his favorite approach, but he screwed up somewhere and that’s what he’s stuck with now.)

Nick knows the angel is still on him--and this is new and terrifying; he’s had demons after him a few times since Meg ditched him, but this is the first time an angel’s found him and, frankly, angels are worse than demons in his mind.

(Also he’s supposed to be warded how did the angel even find him--)

(Yeah, Nick has gotten a couple tattoos in his post-Meg life--he’s warded, the same sigils that are etched into Sam and Dean’s ribs; he also has a standard anti-demon-possession tattoo.)

In any case, he has a knife up his sleeve, he just needs to get somewhere more or less out of sight, just for a minute, maybe not even, and then he can throw up a banishing sigil. He just needs that minute.

Reese spots Nick duck out of sight into an alley and heads that way, picking up his pace. There’s a chance he’ll lose the number in there, depending on how many exits there are--

Nick casts his sigil and then books it, not wanting to stick around and see if it worked.

Reese gets there just a hair too late.

“I lost him,” he admits, then catches sight of the bloody drawing on the wall. “...but I think I might have an idea what our number’s running from. And why he disappeared for so long.”

“Yeah?” Shaw asks.

“Looks like he might’ve joined a cult."

“....really,” she said. “Huh.”

“He drew some sort of occult symbol on the wall. Looks like blood.”

“...okay, so he joined a cult.”

“It makes a certain amount of sense,” Finch says. “He went through a horrible tragedy. He could have been vulnerable, especially if he sought but failed to find any comfort in traditional religion.”

Reese takes a picture, and sends it to Finch. “Think you can figure out what this is?”

“Well, it’s hardly my area of expertise,” he says, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

“We’ll work on picking up his trail again,” Shaw says, appearing beside Reese in the alley, as she does sometimes. “Maybe stop by and pick up Bear to help.”

...and now skimming over the next few hours...

Finch spends some time in one of the few corners of the internet he’s not super familiar with, and does identify the symbol eventually.

“It’s for protection or warding. Specifically against angels.”

At which point Shaw busts up laughing at the idea of anyone thinking Reese is an angel.

But that does support the idea that he’s running from whatever cult he got mixed up in.

ANYWAY moving on.

Reese and Shaw eventually catch up with Nick again.

Unfortunately, so have the people who are after him.

(And by people, I mean demons. Two of them.)

(Who recognized Nick, obviously, and had the same ideas as Meg, with regard to his potential Uses.)

(Only they’d rather off him so no one gets to unlock whatever secrets he might be holding.)

Shaw goes up--she’s the better sniper, after all--and Reese makes his way into the alley where Nick is cornered

Firing, naturally, at their kneecaps.

Except.....

Nothing...nothing happens...?

(Well, except now the demon is pissed and gunning for Reese instead.)

(Nick is very relieved to see that this guy is not, in fact, an angel. Angels don’t normally use guns.)

(Of course, now he’s just confused, wtf is going on.)

“What the...” Reese says.

“Maybe you missed,” Shaw smirks, from her perch.

“I didn’t miss.”

“Sure,” she says, aiming at the demon chasing him, getting a solid hit in the shoulder.

Which....also does nothing.

“...well, that was weird.”

She fires again, this time a killshot--yeah, yeah, there are Rules, but under the circumstances...

Meanwhile, Demon #2 has gotten ahold of Nick. Who has frozen a little bit.

(He tends to do this, when stressed/triggered--internalize things, and just go blank. He was more or less catatonic when Meg found him, started gradually coming out of it; when Sam got his soul back that sort of accelerated the process and by now he’s mostly functional, but there are Moments...)

Shaw keeps firing at Demon #1. It’s not killing it, but it’s keeping it pinned down so hopefully Reese can reach and extract their number.

“Finch, we’ve got a Situation here.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

(Finch has hacked into some nearby security cameras.)

“You have any idea what the hell is going on?”

“I’m afraid not, Ms. Shaw,” he says. “It’s only the two of them, I think--no one else is coming though the police will probably be responding to the shots soon--”

“Yeah, Finch, I know. Reese?”

Nick is up against the wall and Reese bodily hauls the demon off of him to engage in a fistfight.

(Did not expect a skinny kid like the demon’s host to pack this much of a punch, he’ll have some fun bruises tomorrow...)

Which snaps Nick out of it.

Demons. These are demons. Only demons. I know how demons work. I can--

He rattles off an exorcism, as fast as he can.

The demons scream and smoke out, leaving their two dead hosts behind--Host #1 may have been dead already, or Shaw may have killed them; Host #2 was already gone.

“Finch?” Shaw says. “Finch, are you getting this?”

“I’m--yes, I see it,” he says.

Reese is about to add something, but the Nick passes out--Demon #2 managed to score a solid hit before Reese got there--and he moves to catch him.

“Damn it--he’s bleeding, pretty bad.”

“Get him to the safehouse,” Finch says. “I’ll meet you there, and we’ll...we’ll figure all this out.”

“Library’s closer,” Shaw points out. “And you said no one else was around.”

Finch hesitates for a moment--more concerned about Root than about their base being compromised, at the moment--then nods. “Fine. Bring him here. I’ll clear off a space for you to patch him up.”

“Copy that,” Shaw says. “Reese, stay with him, I’m gonna get us a car.”

...okay, I’ll admit, the rest of this first New York adventure isn’t super well planned out in my brain. So, skimming through it pretty quick...

They bring Nick back to the library. Shaw patches him up, while Finch goes over the footage he found, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Nick eventually wakes up. There’s a Talk.

“They were demons,” Nick explains. “They, uh. They can’t be killed, not with guns. There’s a couple specially-designed weapons, I think. And angel blades. Holy water will burn them, and you can use salt to keep them out. Best thing to do is probably trap them and exorcise them.”

Basically, Team Machine gets The Talk about monsters and so on Existing.

He admits to having been possessed for a year when they ask him why demons are chasing him, though he’s a little vague on further details. He does mention Meg, too, that she held on to him after he was dispossessed.

He asks how they found him--he’d thought his warding was messed up, especially when he thought Reese was an angel.

They give their characteristic vague answer, then ask, “If you’re...warded, how is it they found you in the first place?”

He figures, at this point, that his warding is fine--it doesn’t hide him from demons, necessarily, but even if it did, warding doesn’t stop the bad guys from spotting him by chance. Which is, incidentally, exactly what happened.

Nick also, of course, gets in the usual number questions; “who are you” “why are you helping me” etc., with the added weight of his possession and the fact that they took on literal demons to try and save his life.

Also, somewhere in this mess, Nick wanders off into the part of the library where Root is being held. Possibly while the rest of Team Machine is getting what they’ll need to deal with whatever Climactic Fight will end the episode/section.

(Nick was a high school history teacher, and this is a really awesome library, of course he’s going to go exploring if he’s left alone.)

(Bear is there to keep an eye on him/keep him from leaving.)

(Bear also gets many scritches and pets, as he deserves.)

Anyway, Root and Nick have a conversation; whether she and the Machine are already doing their Morse Code thing or something else is going on...or...something...anyway, Nick gets read in on the Machine’s existence.

(His reaction is more or less “...that does not even make the top ten most unbelievable/dangerous things I know exist, so...all right then.”)

Finch gets back to find them talking about history or something. Bear is next to Nick, who is a lot calmer/more willing to work with them than he was before. Root is just inside the cage wall, idly scritching Bear’s ears as they talk.

(This is actually Important.)

Anyway, eventually there is the requisite climactic fight. Possibly angels are involved--I know Shaw gets her hands on an angel blade at some point...

Point is, things get resolved, more or less. Nick ends up leaving New York.

BUT! Because Root had a Moment with him back there, and Finch saw it, he’s willing to unleash her a little earlier when the shit hits the fan a few episodes later.

In short, thanks to Root kind of sort of Bonding with one of their weirder/more fragile numbers, Team Machine is much better positioned to deal with Endgame nonsense, which means, first, that Carter gets to live (though Reese might still get hella shot, depending on how exactly Root changes what happens with Simmons; but he won’t go on his Roaring Rampage of Revenge); what follows is then that Team Machine is all working on the same page when Claypool’s number comes up aaaaaaand we avert Samaritan. Yay!

(Carter does still deduce the Machine’s existence, of course, gets upgraded to the yellow box and everything. And, remembering the late-S1 drama, strongly advocates for Fusco getting read in, too.)

(She gets her way on that, too. Eventually. Probably before too much longer, even.)

Also, Control does reveal herself, but doesn’t manage to capture Root just yet.

(Which also means Root doesn’t get her implant, at least for a while.)

But apart from that, we can leave this group to their own devices for a while, and get back to following Nick, who is now past his Origin Story, so to speak...

Hokay. So. After Nick leaves New York, he just starts sort of drifting again, and then a few days later, he gets a phone call.

Which he actually answers; in all honestly very few people would reach out to him this way, and he’s pretty sure none of the things that terrify him are on that list.

“Can. You. Hear. Me?”

Nick stares at the phone for a long moment. The Machine repeats herself.

“…no.” He hangs up.

(Look, he knows damn well what that phone call was; Root told him enough when the two of them talked in the library. And he is not interested in letting another near-omnipotent entity screw with his head. Once was enough. He learned his lesson.)

The Machine backs off, deciding to try a less-invasive way of trying to get in touch with/recruit him.

Why is she doing this? Well.

The Machine’s mandate/objective is to protect humanity. When Nick came up on her radar as an irrelevant number she could offer her assets, she noticed some…let’s call them anomalies. In archival data about him, about the two people talking about murdering him…lots of things didn’t add up. Which is why he got pushed to the top of the list, so to speak.

(I mean, assuming she does put a certain level of thought/deliberation into which numbers she sends her assets? If two come up at once that are unrelated, does she need to decide, or do they get both? This isn’t 100% clear in the show, I don’t think; pretty sure all the multi-number episodes do end up being related, even if they don’t appear that way at first, apart from, like, backlogs from when the Machine has to go dark temporarily for whatever reason…anyway, if that is the case, she picked Nick because there was a lot of Weird Shit going on around him and she needed her human assets to sort through it, because she simply didn’t have the tools or parameters necessary to work it out for herself.)

So, Nick’s number comes up, and even more strange things keep happening. The Machine evaluates, and comes to the conclusion that there’s an entire class of threats to humanity that she hasn’t been monitoring correctly. The fact of the matter is, she was programmed with certain blind spots, because Finch had certain blind spots.

But the Machine is now in a position to correct that. She’s aware of the flaw in her system and, thanks to the changes she’s been making since Stanton’s virus and the other S2 arc plot stuff allowed her to start altering her code in a way she couldn’t before…

She can make up for it by adding yet another set of numbers/another protocol. Relevant numbers to the government as always, irrelevant numbers (within their reach, at least) to Finch and his team, “necessary” numbers (i.e., protecting the Machine herself/keeping tabs on other, potentially hostile, ASIs) to Root, and now…we’ll call them “hidden” numbers.

Of course, the next problem is, while there’s a lot of data available about monsters, angels, demons, etc., it’s very hard to sort through what is useful data and what is, frankly, BS. And, unfortunately, she lacks the parameters to do it herself.

Ergo, she needs a human asset to help her figure it out. Teach her/help her define this new dataset.

(And also to intervene when necessary, but that can come later. She’s got a bit of a learning curve ahead of her first, and she knows it.)

But, of course, she doesn’t want to retask any of her current assets—both because they have enough to deal with and because, again, learning curve. Better for at least one entity involved to know what they’re doing, right?

And so, she decides to recruit Nick. Nick, who has already been her window into this hidden world. Nick, who needs her as much as she needs him.

(Kind of like Root, except absolutely unlike Root. Like in that they were both drowning when she approached them, and needed her to give them a framework to cling to, to drag themselves back to the surface; unlike in that Nick is drowning in a very different ocean than Root was.)

Anyway. Eventually, she does manage to talk to him, and explain what she wants.

And he’s still not...100% sure how he feels about working with her, but...well, data entry, right? He can do that. Maybe.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” he admits. “Just because I was possessed for a year doesn’t mean I know everything.”

“It’s still a place to start,” she replies. “Eventually, I’ll figure out the patterns and be able to extrapolate.”

“...okay, then.”

(As it turns out, he knows a lot more than he thinks he does, which is utterly terrifying; he has a lot of subconscious/residual information buried in his mind.)

Of course, eventually, just data entry isn’t enough.

The Machine doesn’t have all the answers/all the patterns down, but she has enough that she’s starting to identify threats/numbers she can assign out.

But Nick...well, Nick is fragile. Mentally, of course, but physically as well--burned inside and out, metaphorically and literally, by a long, incompatible possession.

At the moment, though, he’s the only asset she has in this area. Recruiting others, from among the insular, paranoid hunter community...is going to be difficult.

She spots something she thinks he can handle, especially if she grants him God Mode access and keeps him there.

He stares down at the text message she sent him.

“...I can’t do this,” he says. “I can’t...”

“Can we please try?” she says. “I’ll help you.”

“...I...”

“It’s a demon, I think.”

He thinks about it for a minute. He can handle demons, he thinks. He has before, after all. He understands demons. And...

(he thinks about the feeling of evil still living under his skin; he thinks of blood on his hands and in his heart; about all the nightmares and half-memories; about how he feels too small for his own body, how his thoughts echo inside his head...)

(he wants to do better. he wants to be better. maybe helping...people like him, people who have gone through what he went through...maybe that’s a start. to make up for what he did.)

“...is the host still alive? When I...if I manage to get there and exorcise them...are they still alive?”

“I can’t tell,” she admits. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll...try,” he says. “I’ll try.”

It ends up, fortunately, being a win for all of them--the demon is thrown enough by seeing Lucifer’s former vessel that Nick has a chance to act; the host is in fact still alive.

Nick spends hours after the exorcism, just...sitting with him, talking. Helping him cope/process things.

“...we should do that again sometime,” he finally tells the Machine, after he goes back to wherever he’s sleeping these days.

So, he starts kind of sort of hunting after that, with the help of an ASI.

Every time he directly engages something, he’s in God Mode. He has to be, because of the aforementioned damage; he wouldn’t survive on his own.

(Probably, at some point, he and the Machine put together something like the Tenebamus Infinitum forum in The Promises of Angels; online support group/community for possession survivors.)

(Sam may or may not find his way there...)

At first, they mostly focus on demons/possession cases. Sometimes ghosts. But they slowly start to branch out into other areas.

They deal with some miscellaneous monsters, faeries, maybe a vampire...good times.

Pretty much the only ones they avoid are angels and pagan gods, because Nick cannot deal.

(Angels for uh obvious reasons; pagan gods because he remembers like two things from his possession with any clarity, and one of them is Muncie, Indiana/Gabriel’s death.)

(The Machine occasionally considers trying to get him into a hospital for a while, the way Root was--she thinks it would help him--but he’s...managing for the moment, so it’s not as necessary, and she does still need him actively working....plus, he’s terrified of being sedated so...this gets put on indefinite hold.)

During this period, though, they do acquire two more Friends.

First--and I’m not 100% sure how they meet; possibly similar to how Nick and Jody meet in Cartography!verse, i.e., a grief support group of some kind.

Anyway, first he meets a young woman, a psychiatrist. Who is familiar, if peripherally, with angel and demon type stuff.

(Other monsters are gonna be a little New to her.)

Her name is Ashley Finnerman.

(Yes, as in Donnie.)

(He was her cousin.)

(After what happened to him, she started trying to figure it out, and eventually did.)

(...honestly, the forum may be her idea. She definitely joins it, not as a fellow survivor, but as a crisis counselor/trained professional who will believe them.)

(Ashley is pretty big on community building in general; yes, she’s a therapist and that���s a start, but she’s only one person. In her ideal world, they’d be able to draw in other professionals--psychiatric because this is an underserved population that desperately needs those resources; medical (as in physical medical/other MDs); legal...anyway, she’s not 100% sure how to go about doing that, but helping out on with Tenebamus is a step in the right direction, in her opinion.)

Ashley is eventually read in on the Machine as well. She has more or less an actual Life outside of it all, so she isn’t as immersed as Nick is, but she’s still definitely part of his team.

And second...somehow, they acquire Adam.

How? ...again, not 100% sure, but probably one of two ways--

One, something similar to Promises, where Nick gets too close to the Cage mouth for some reason and is offered a Bribe. He takes the bribe, with exactly zero intention of following through on his end of the bargain, so to speak.

Two, some kind of straight-up Fairy Tale Bullshit. S6 establishes that faeries can reach the Cage; Nick somewhat accidentally does a favor for a powerful faerie through his work with the Machine, and to repay the debt, the faerie (or possibly a High Up Faerie who has taken ownership of the debt because he helped someone in their court/their child/something or other) restores his Counterpart to him? IDK, something like that.

...I think I like this option. He accidentally does a favor for, IDK, Mab. And she, not wanting to be in his debt, heads down to the Cage.

This works because, a) Mab is probably one of the few entities that can go toe-to-toe with an Archangel like this; and b) Michael is actually on board with springing Adam.

(Not necessarily because he gives a shit about Adam, but he does give a shit about Justice, and keeping Adam down here, especially with Sam gone, is not Justice.)

Naturally, she doesn’t tell Nick ahead of time--he did the favor without consulting her, she shall repay him in kind. Faeries and Obligations, man.

Anyway, Adam joins them, and then Nick doesn’t have to be quite as hands-on because Adam is perfectly capable.

(Adam also, at some point, makes a comment about the three of them having ‘nearly a complete set.’)

(I have no idea how/if they’ll ever be able to find someone to fit in for Gabriel, but three out of four!)

(Nick finds this oddly hilarious, for reasons he can’t quite articulate.)

So, that is what Nick is doing while Team Machine is foiling Vigilance and Greer and Decima and dealing with their Hard Sci Fi end of things.

Let’s bring these two worlds crashing back together, shall we?

(Well, I say crashing together...this probably isn’t the first time Nick has run into the others since that first adventure.)

(If nothing else, he’s stayed in touch, off and on, with Root.)

(And I’m pretty sure the others have met Adam.)

(Maybe that was where Shaw got her angel blade...)

So, timeline for this. Uh...probably at least a year after Nick’s first encounter with Team Machine. For the SPN side of things...ehhhhh I’ll handwave/stop caring and say this is sometime in the latter half of S8. Between the first two Trials. Let’s go with that.

Nick and co are back in New York, probably dealing with something on their end of things. A ghost or something.

And then they get sucked into some Team Machine nonsense.

Control still wants the Machine--or a suitable Plan B--back under her complete, well, control.

Decima is going after some other potential ASI.

(Root is back in town to deal with them.)

Vigilance is involved too, because why not.

(Greer can’t initiate his endgame there just yet, after all, so they’re probably still operating.)

Nick, Adam, and Ashley are pitching in, because they’re here and the Machine needs all the help she can get on this one. Because Reasons.

Meg gets involved--this goes AU in that she escaped Crowley somehow. And one of the first things she does is try to check on her various assets, so she’s trying to track Nick and figure out what the hell is going on with him.

Crowley, of course, is chasing her, trying to get her back.

And, to round it all off, Sam and Dean are chasing him.

(As they approach, Sam starts noticing a weird buzzing feeling in the back of his head. Like circulation returning, or something like that. He decides not to mention it--thinks it might be a new Trials symptom, and he’s already hiding those from Dean, what’s one more secret? Besides, they need to know what Crowley finds so interesting about this place...that’s way more important, right?)

So, all these disparate parties converge on wherever the potential ASI is being held/built.

Root and Nick, of course, are both in God Mode.

(...incidentally, Nick is...nnnnnnnnnot super comfortable with calling it that? He and Adam and Ashley mostly just call it access or full-access.)

(Nick has the same tingling feeling in the back of his head, but he can’t do anything about it right now. He just focuses on the task at hand, and getting himself and his friends through this alive.)

The Machine tips Nick off to the fact that there are demons sniffing around--a couple of Crowley’s minions. Which, of course, Nick and his team can handle, but there’s several of them around and we reeeeally don’t want Crowley getting access to an ASI.

(Especially not S8!Crowley.)

So, Nick, Adam, and Ashley head off to put up wards and shoo off any demons they can, leaving the others to deal with the Decima nonsense/destroy the drives or whatever.

There’s a lot of ground to cover, so they split up.

Eventually, Nick gets pinned down by Decima mooks, trapped in a corner of the facility where he’s trying to finish getting the wards up.

“What...what do I do now?” he asks the Machine.

She runs her simulations, and it doesn’t look good.

And here is where it’s different from, say, “If-Then-Else.” Slash another way Root and Nick are very different people/assets.

Whereas Root is perfectly okay with obeying orders from her God without question, Nick needs to be told his options and make the choice himself.

At some point, he describes Access as oddly comforting. It’s almost as overwhelming, almost as much of a surrender, as consenting to possession is.

But there’s one critical difference.

He doesn’t have to listen to her.

He can say no.

He can hang up.

I mean, it’s generally speaking a bad idea to do that, but the option is still available.

So, his head doesn’t feel as empty with her in it, but a lot of it is still on his terms.

That being said, when there’s no time, or it’s a very immediate “there’s someone behind you” type of God Mode moment, of course, that’s less of an issue.

But something like this, where there’s a fork in the road?

If there’s time, she’ll lay out two or three of the least bad options and let him decide.

“If you go out the door and turn left, you will run into Control. She will figure out you’re tied to me, and she will take you prisoner. She will almost certainly torture you, to get you to give me up. Adam and Ashley will meet up with my other assets, and they will rescue you, but the chances of their success are very slim. There is a five percent chance, at best, that you will survive. It varies, depending on how quickly the others can mobilize.”

“Okay,” he says, and swallows. “And...and Adam and Ashley, will they...?”

“They have better than even odds of surviving.”

“Okay,” he says again. “What else?”

“Turn right,” she says. “You’ll run into the demon who held you captive.”

“Meg?”

“Yes.”

That’s not so bad, he thinks. Meg didn’t torture him too much, and she wanted him kept alive.

“Control will capture Root instead,” she continues. “Sameen and the others will attempt to rescue her. Adam and Ashley will pursue you.”

Control capturing Root, on the other hand, seems like a very bad thing. Still...

“Adam and Ashley?”

“About the same,” she says. “But there is another concern.”

“Okay.”

“If Meg takes you, there’s a chance she’ll find me. And if she does, it’s extremely likely that someone less friendly will, as well. There is also an approximately 17% chance that you’ll wind up in Crowley’s hands instead of Meg’s. And his chances of finding me are a lot stronger.”

Yeah, no. That cannot happen.

“Are there any other options?” he asks.

She pauses for a split second. “Turn right,” she says. “Then at the first hallway, turn left instead of going straight. I’ll have to leave you then--there are several Decima soldiers, but if you manage to get past them on your own, you’ll find Sam and Dean Winchester.”

It hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Your chances of reaching them without my help are better than your chances of surviving Control,” the Machine continues, “but not by much. If you can get there, though, they most likely won’t harm you.”

Unless I’m in full-access mode, Nick thinks, and shivers a little.

“And I can say with approximately 97% certainty that, when Adam and Ashley find you, they won’t harm them, either. I cannot say the same for the demons or Control.”

“They won’t hurt us physically,” Nick finally manages to say. “But I can’t...I-I-I don’t know how I’ll...I can’t shut down, not in here. A-and I don’t know how Sam will react to seeing me, I’ll probably seriously fuck with his head a-and I can’t...I can’t...”

(there’s this running refrain in his head, that Sam Winchester is perfect, and that Nick is the reason that everything goes wrong.)

(the Machine regrets even more not getting Nick more help.)

He takes a shaky breath. “Plus, I don’t know if Adam’s ready for that yet,” he says. “He hasn’t...uh, he hasn’t said anything about wanting to track them down.”

“That’s true.”

He’s quiet for another minute.

“Nick?”

“...I’ll take my chances with Control,” he says.

“I understand,” she says. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

(It’s not what she would have advised him to do, necessarily--she would have advised him to try for Sam and Dean; it balances protecting her with protecting the majority of her assets.)

“Directions?” he says.

“Open the door and turn left.”

She guides him down the hallway, advises him where to dodge, where to strike. He picks up a gun at one point--

(he’s hesitant, and she reminds him “you’re in Control’s world now, you have to play by her rules.”)

He gets to the inevitable trap, where ISA corners him and Control is there.

She recognizes, pretty quickly, that he’s in God Mode.

“...now just who the hell are you?”

On the other side of the facility, Ashley’s phone rings.

“Can. You. Hear. Me?”

The Machine also advises Root that Nick has been captured.

She and Finch have finished neutralizing the potential ASI drives; Reese and Shaw are with them; Carter and Fusco are currently working on securing their exit route, after driving off a handful of Vigilance mooks.

“We need to move,” Root says. “Control has Nick. Adam and Ashley will meet us.”

Reese nods once. “Lionel, Joss, get ready. We’re headed your way.”

“Copy that,” Carter says. “Fusco--”

“On it.”

Meg has realized that Crowley is here, so she’s now in the process of finding her own exit. He’s in pursuit.

Sam and Dean got all turned around and manage to get to just the right hallway at just the right time to see Adam and Ashley piling onto an elevator.

“...Dean,” Sam says. “Dean, tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing.”

(he doesn’t press his hand. he hasn’t hallucinated in almost two years, he doesn’t need to--)

“Adam?” Dean calls.

Adam half turns to them, hesitates for half a second, then follows Ashley into the elevator and the door slides shut.

...and I’ll admit I don’t have a whole lot planned out beyond that. Also this is getting, like, super long. So, quick wrapup, so to speak.

So, Team Machine, plus Adam and Ashley go to rescue Nick.

Sam and Dean track them down.

Adam goes to talk to them, try and get them to back off.

“I have to go rescue my friend,” he says. “But once I’m done with that, we can talk. I promise. We’ll set up a meeting and I’ll tell you...as much as I remember, I guess. But right now, I have to go rescue my friend. Kind of on a clock here.”

“We’ll help,” Sam offers.

“This isn’t really your kind of thing,” Adam says. “This isn’t monsters, this is the ISA.”

“The what now?” Dean asks.

“Like the CIA, but on steroids.”

“...how the hell did you get involved in CIA bullshit?” Dean asks.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Adam says. “Which I will tell you, once my friend is safe. So can you please just...let me do this first?”

“How did...” Sam asks. “How did you get out?”

“Also a long story,” Adam says. “But I’m the only one who came out, I swear. And...” He hesitates. “They...mostly left me alone, after you were gone. If you were worried about that.”

(Sam hadn’t been, mostly because he had been Very Firmly Not Thinking About Adam for a while now, but he’s relieved to hear it.)

Reese steps out. Possibly holding his grenade launcher. “Come on, Adam, we gotta go.”

“Coming,” Adam says, then turns back to Sam and Dean. “I will call you as soon as we’re clear. I promise. Don’t follow us, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, he follows Reese and they go to rescue Nick.

(Obviously, S&D don’t listen and do, in fact, follow Adam, but I’m not 100% sure where that would go.)

(Other than they do, in fact, manage to extract Nick alive, but it’s a near thing.)

(The fun thing here is, Control actually can’t break Nick. Well, she can’t get him to tell her anything about the Machine, anyway.)

(Yes, everyone has their breaking point so far as pain/torture goes, and Nick is no exception.)

(But he will physically break--i.e., die--before he mentally breaks.)

(And while psychological torture would be a lot more effective, she doesn’t know what buttons to push.)

(When she runs his prints/whatever, she gets the name Jacob White, which is an identity that Finch put together for him, for when he needed to interact with the real world. Since his own identity is...complicated.)

(Yes, that is a reference.)

(I couldn’t resist.)

(Also, the Machine, through Root, gets to deliver her verbal bitchslap to Control at last.)

Uh....yeah. That’s all the actual Plot I have at this point. But some other notes!

My girl Zoe is totally in the know. She may or may not have encountered Bela at some point, or found out some other way, but she does know.

(She never told Harold and John because--well, honestly, why would she? Her stock in trade is secrets, after all. And it never came up, and she wasn’t involved with Nick’s first adventure.)

Elias will turn up at some point. And basically become something like John Marcone, if any of y’all are familiar with the Dresden Files.

Bear’s Plot Armor may be some kind of magic, and I would not be surprised if he could take on a Hellhound and win.

Carter and Jody. Just...just Carter and Jody, man.

Like I said, Shaw gets her hands on an angel blade at some point. She and Dean probably bond. I feel like they would bond.

Also, I think Dean gets put into God Mode at some point. Possibly as his first real introduction to the Machine.

Like...IDK, he and Sam are with Nick for some reason, Nick, as implied above, cannot go into God Mode in front of the two of them, and honestly Sam going into God Mode in front of him would also be pretty devastating, so...Dean’s phone gets to ring!

“Can. You. Hear. Me?”

“...the fuck?”

“Can. You. Hear. Me?”

“Yes, I can--what the fuck is--”

“Two. O’clock.”

::turns and OHSHIT just in time::

IDK the idea just entertains me.

...yep, I think that’s it.

If you’re still here, thank you for putting up with my nonsense/checking this out.

Tune in next time, for an actual serious AU outline of some kind.

(....who am I kidding, these things are never serious XD)

#shadowsong writes spn #shadowsong26fic #shadowsong writes crossovers #au outlines for the win #shadowsong writes self-indulgent bs #shadowsong is feeling Spiteful today

[owlixx]

General CoD 2024 thoughts:

While I’m here, I really insist that the Call of Duty games should try an alternate history setting at least once. It would open up a lot of possibilities and let them try some unreal stuff without having to go far future. The campaign would be a lot more interesting with alternate history world building. You could even pitch each new CoD as a new “what if?” with some overlapping characters across timelines. I mean, that’s basically what they’ve done with the Modern Warfare reboot already. Just don’t do “what if Germany won ww2” because that’s a bit overplayed and already kind of Wolfenstein’s territory. But try “JFK didn’t get shot”, “Cold War goes nuclear”, “WW2 didn’t start for another decade”, “Cold War didn’t end”, that type of stuff each game. I already feel like I’m in a parallel universe with the fake gun names from the last few games.

And I’m not sure what else the next game is going to be. Certainly not WW2, Treyarch hasn’t done that since Waw and Vanguard flopped. The obvious choice is just to make Black Ops Cold War 2, but that seems a little redundant, although I did enjoy BOCW being more 80sy compared to Black Ops 1 (although they’re all heavily anachronistic with the gun choices).

Black Ops could return to the near future, but that seems like a risky move after the “call of duty dark ages” where everybody hated that, but then again fans might be eager for a return to Black Ops 2’s relatively grounded depiction of the near future compared to the more fantastical depictions in IW, AW, BO3/BO4. What’s funny is that the next Black Ops game is probably going to release next year, in 2024, and Black Ops 2 is set in 2025. A quick google reveals Black Ops 3 being set in 2065, so you could easily set a new Black ops game in 2035 as uncharted territory, not that the timeline particularly matters for any of this hot nonsense.

Now that I think about it…the idea of just baaaarely dipping our toes into that near future nonsense sounds like a lot of fun. No double jumps, no wall running, no jet packs, no laser beams, just slightly higher tech versions of guns that exist today plus some gadgets that shouldn’t exist yet. Based it off of real life cutting edge stuff that’s in the prototype phase. Lean into stuff that’s already in modern warfare, like the breacher drone and heartbeat sensors but just a liiiiitle higher tech, with locales are that just a liiitle more scifi/cyberpunk/apocalyptic looking.

Just thinking out loud here, but what’s funny is that Black Ops 2 is now so old that it’s borderline retrofuturistic, and the assets are now so relatively low-poly compared to the very high-poly (for now) assets in the modern games. I think there would be demand for Black Ops 2 to get similar treatment to how BOCW is a spiritual successor to BO1 and how MW3 modern is a borderline remake of classic MW2. I’m not saying they should remake every map, especially since they already remade many of them in BOCW, but throw in a couple remastered maps day one and borrow some of the more iconic weaponry too. I also think that some near future guns would help add on to the existing modern guns in Warzone without just adding ANOTHER ak47, revolver, m16, etc like BOCW did. You could even just take a lot of the existing weaponry in MW2/3 and design a 2035 version, although people would pitch a fit. If it’s just 2035, you could honestly just include very slightly remixed versions of all the iconic guns that aren’t yet in MW2/3, although that’s admittedly becoming a short list so maybe using the BO2/3/4 Arsenal as a baseline isn’t a bad idea.

Also - zombies. Black Ops 2 is famous for Tranzit being a neat idea that was kind of held back by the technology of the time. Tranzit is just begging to be remade as an outbreak/MWZ style large map, or even just implemented as a fog/bus variant mode in the existing MWZ experience. Just throw the Nacht building and “Town” in somewhere on the existing MWZ map, add the bus and fog, add the wonder weapons and the electricity guy, then sell the 4 characters as operators in the shop. I know people would cry foul about not getting a “proper” 1:1 version of the map, but personally I’d rather see a dynamic evolution of the kind of original idea behind Tranzit, and I also think that the MWZ formula is just begging to have a secondary mode that meets the original zombie formula halfway in delivering a more consistently intense experience with a little less metagame. And honestly you could probably adapt Die Rise, Origins, Buried, Blood of the Dead in similar ways or just add them to the battle royale map.

Either that, or give me a new battle royale map that has the entirety of nacht der untoten, shi no numa, verruckt, kino der toten, ascension, call of the dead, der riese, five in it and then give us the option to try and hold in out in any one of those zones for as long as possible. We know season 1 of MWZ is going to bring “rifts” that sound like instanced content, I could definitely see those rifts being classic zombie maps.

But also - imagine a battle royale map surround by water with the ship from Hijacked circling it with all the best loot on board, or at the center of the map Loot Lake style.

A black ops 2 inspired successor could also try again at having those weird little RTS sections. Just don’t include any robots like Black Ops 3 did, nobody asked for that.

Back to zombies though - I would take bots back from BO4 but we are really overdue for another zombie chronicles. I think people would be happy to have a whole game of exclusively remastered zombie maps. I think at this point each new game could have one map from each old game in perpetuity, map just add one or two original maps at least.

Oh, I almost forgot, before I launched into this whole rant about making Black Ops 2 again, I was going to suggest a third option that I hadn’t considered until just now. First off though, obviously the next game can’t be modern. It would be the third in a row and Treyarch obviously isn’t allowed to do that or they would’ve years ago. On the other hand, having some kind of “Modern Ops” or “Black Ops Warfare” crossover game would fit with the way they’re intertwined with Warzone now and required to actually use a compatible engine and actually share code now. We have it on the books that Treyarch’s next game will be the first to use IW code/engine more directly than ever before. Plus Activision seems to be pushing the idea of a “CoD Cinematic Universe” now more than ever before with stuff like TF141 in Vanguard, Price in BOCW (even if non canon multiplayer appearance), and that new MCU-like opening screen on MW3. So I was going to just dismiss the possibility but maybe not.

So are options so far are WW2 (least likely), 60s/70s/80s Cold War again (possible), near future but grounded (possible), Modern crossover (maybe possible but unlikely), but I’d like to throw out a final option: gulf war. There hasn’t yet been a call of duty game set in the 90s as far as I know. I think we are just now hitting the point where we can have 90s nostalgia in certain media, like in the Captain Marvel movie. Lean into the 90s aspect of it, you could even call it “Black Ops Gulf War” although that seems a little…on the nose, same with “Black Ops Desert Strike”. Similarly clunky would be “Black Ops War”. Honestly just calling it “Black Ops 1990” or “Black Ops 90” is probably the slickest title I can envision. Setting it on the line between decades also lets you get away with, say, including a slowed down Nirvana cover in the trailer (you know that’s what they love to do) without it seems too anachronistic (even though it is).

Honestly so much time has passed that you could probably have an early 2000s CoD at this point, this naming scheme would work just as well there (although the nice round number of “90” pops well, I think). I actually really like the idea of a Call of Duty following the immediate international scramble in the hours and days after 9/11 if it were grounded and evenhanded, but I’m confident it would just turn into weird cruel propaganda like these games always are. The idea of making a “spec ops the line” style call of duty ABOUT 9/11 is deeply appealing to me if clearly an impossibility.

The only reason I think to push this idea from 1990 to 2001 in the first place is to make it easier to depict younger versions of characters from Modern Warfare and finally marry the series, especially Price leading a doomed squad of original characters. I suppose you could pretty easily do 1990 though if you have young Laswell and Shepherd meeting an aging Black Ops cast. I feel like MW19 wanted to flirt with the idea of “are we the bad guys?” for about one second before changing it’s mind, which is especially jarring with MW2’s fun romp of a campaign.

I’m weirdly excited for Roads to Victory. Something about the idea of seeing WW2 crammed onto a tiny screen with tiny buttons just cracks me up. I feel like I kind of get the idea with the DS CoD games since I’ve played maybe an hour or so of them by now, but the PSP one is a total enigma to me. I will say that I have played just a little bit of Black Ops Declassified, I even managed to find a singular player online for a 1v1. And Roads to Victory should be much better on Vita with a second stick.

#CoD #call of duty #black ops #modern warfare #gaming

[shookethbrooketh]

stars

chapter 17

dan sucked in some air, biting his lip as he watched hayden make his way towards the tree. he could see the image parallel to his dream, which, in and of itself, was a beautiful scene, but he woke up into a hell, and he couldn’t stand to think of it. the fact that they were in broad daylight differentiated the two a bit, but dan still couldn’t completely shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

summary: dan grew up in a normal 1930s london family with his parents and little brother. everything was completely and utterly normal… until the bombs started dropping. When dan was fifteen his father went off to war, and when he was sixteen he and his brother hayden were sent off to a foster family in rural england. he looked up at the stars and couldn’t help but wonder how something that beautiful could exist in such a broken world. just when he thought things would never get better, dan met phil, and he became the shining star of his life. but when phil turned eighteen and went off to war, dan couldn’t help but wonder when, if ever, the stars would twinkle the same way again.

rating: t

genre: angst, fluff, history au, strangers to lovers, teenagers

whole fic warnings: warfare (not descriptive), bombings, fire, panic attacks, ptsd, epilepsy/seizures, homophobia, death chapter warnings: epilepsy/seizure

chapter word count: 2.0k total word count: 22.7k

read it on ao3 read it on wattpad fic masterlist

“My head hurts,” Phil moaned as Dan stood in his doorway.

“I’d be concerned if it didn’t,” Dan replied quietly with a smug grin. He made his way to the side of Phil’s bed and set down the breakfast tray in his hands on Phil’s lap. “Thought you might appreciate this,” he added as he whirled around to shut the curtains and leave Phil in the dark.

“Absolutely. I’m starving,” he said, laying into the toast.

Dan climbed into bed beside him and took a small bite of Phil’s eggs. “You’re a handful of a drunk, you know that?”

Phil took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I honestly don’t remember what I did.”

“You seemed very proud to be dating me,” Dan said. He could tell Phil was worried he was mad, but he had a joking smile on his face. “Sorry to have pulled you away from your own graduation party. I assumed it was what sober Phil would have wanted.”

“You had to drag me out of the party so I didn’t tell all our friends we’re gay? Yeah, you definitely made the right decision there.”

“Thanks for the closure,” Dan said with a laugh he immediately stifled because he could tell it was hurting Phil’s sensitive eardrums. “Maybe we should just be quiet,” he added as he took out a deck of cards. It reminded him of Hayden, who he’d been thinking about a lot lately. His summer goal was to balance his relationships better, which he knew full and well was a week point of his. At that time, Hayden was fast asleep, and Phil needed him far more than the boy.

“Even hung over, I’ll still demolish you at any card game.”

“Bet?” Dan asked, giving him a challenging look as he slid the cards out of their cardboard box.

Phil grinned, putting aside his almost empty plate and taking only the glass of water he knew he needed to be drinking in his hand. He set the empty tray down as a flat surface, and made eye contact with Dan. “Bet.”

In the perspective of a day, it was a long road to recovery for Phil after his hangover, but it was an even longer recovery for Dan. Phil was not lying about his card game skills.

“Come on!” Dan shouted, throwing his hand down on the bed.

“How many is that in a row now?” Phil asked rhetorically, a cheeky grin on his face. “Twelve? Thirteen?”

Dan bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. “Fourteen,” he said under his breath.”

“Huh?”

“It’s fourteen, you little shit.”

Phil chuckled, his grin turning to a genuine smile. “I think it’s about time to end this.”

Dan relaxed his tense shoulders and picked up his cards to hand to Phil as he put them all back in the box. “You know,” he said, picking up the grin Phil had dropped. “You just want to stop now because you know I’ll finally beat you next round.”

“Dan, you haven’t beaten me since 9:45. It’s almost lunchtime.”

“Lunchtime’s the charm?”

Phil rolled his eyes and slid out of bed, setting the cards on his bedside table and slouching over to his closet. Dan attempted not to watch as he changed into his day clothes, and Phil chose not to comment on it. A few minutes later, the two stampeded down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab some lunch with Hayden.

Meals had grown to be a favorite part of Dan’s day; it was one of the few times when he got to be with both of his favorite people on the planet. “What’re your afternoon plans, Hayden?” Dan asked as he took the last bite of his sandwich.”

“I don’t really have any. Do you?”

“Not that I know of,” he said, glancing to Phil. They tended to play things by ear, especially with how they spent their free time. The three of them got up and took their dishes to the sink; it was Dan’s turn to do them.

“Do you want to go driving when you’re done?” Phil asked, grazing his hand up against Dan’s.

“I’d love to,” he said with a smile. In the background, he heard a dejected sigh come from Hayden as he attempted to slide undetected out of the room. “Hold on, Hayden,” Dan said, nodding to Phil and turning the dishes over to him. There were only a couple left, but Phil was more than willing to take over. He dried his hands and walked over to his brother, crouching down to his level. “What’s wrong?”

“I kind of wanted to spend this afternoon with you.”

“Why didn’t you say so? I’d love to spend an afternoon with you.”

“No you wouldn’t. You said the same thing to him. I know you’d rather be with him.”

Dan turned back to Phil, who was turning off the faucet and glanced in his direction, serving him a sad look. “That’s not true. You’re my #1, all the way.”

“Hayden, have you ever been to the top of the hill outside?”

“Yeah, he has,” Dan replied immediately, thinking back to the time shortly after his first seizure when he took him.

“No, I haven’t.”

“What? Oh.” True memory came flooding back to him. “Guess I dreamed that,” he laughed nervously.

“We should take him! What do you think, Dan?”

Dan looked down at Hayden, who was almost jumping from excitement, and back over at Phil. An anxiety filled his stomach, but he bit it back. “Let’s go!” he said through gritted teeth, fake enthusiasm on point.

“Yay!” Hayden shouted, rushing out to the truck.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked. Apparently his fake enthusiasm wasn’t really that good.

“Yeah, I just had a dream where I took him up there a while ago when he was in the hospital. This just gives me a bad feeling. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but it makes me anxious.”

“Hey,” Phil said, taking his hands in his. “You’re just paranoid. It’s gonna be fine; I’ll be there the entire time, okay?” he looked into Dan’s eyes, and he nodded. “Let’s go make sure he doesn’t take off on his own,” he said, a lighter tone shining through as they followed Hayden outside.

Dan pulled himself into the passenger side of the truck and heaved Hayden onto his lap as Phil took his place in the driver’s seat. At the age of eight, Hayden was getting to be heavy for Dan’s lap, but the ride to the top of the hill was quick. As soon as they stopped, Hayden opened up the door and ran outside, Dan and Phil following him.

Dan sucked in some air, biting his lip as he watched Hayden make his way towards the tree. He could see the image parallel to his dream, which, in and of itself, was a beautiful scene, but he woke up into a hell, and he couldn’t stand to think of it. The fact that they were in broad daylight differentiated the two a bit, but Dan still couldn’t completely shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

“That’s a big tree,” Hayden said, staring up the trunk.

“Yeah it is!” Phil said. “You wanna climb it?”

“We can climb it?” Hayden asked, adventure in his wide eyes.

“Of course!”

“All right!” Hayden exclaimed, immediately searching for his first foothold.

Dan gave an anxious glance to Phil, and Phil sidled over to him as Hayden got higher and higher up in the branches. “He’ll be fine; I promise,” Phil said, squeezing Dan’s hand. “You should go up there with him. I think he’ll enjoy that.”

Dan bit his lip, another parallel crossing his mind. “Okay.” More careful than usual, he followed Hayden up to the branch he’d seated himself on; it was a different branch than the boys usually chose, and it was barely strong enough to support both the Howells, but could easily handle Hayden alone. “So, what do you think?”

“This is beautiful. Now I understand why you come up here for so many sunsets. You’ll have to take me sometime.”

“We definitely will. The sunsets are absolutely gorgeous.” Dan put his arm around the boy’s shoulder and pointed out into the distance. “You see that? That’s the town over there.”

“Wow!” Hayden exclaimed, leaning forward in awe. “I had no clue it was so close.”

“Isn’t the world wild like that?”

“Yeah,” Hayden said, appearing transfixed on the horizon. The two sat for a moment, admiring their surroundings in a deep silence. Dan looked over at Hayden, who still seemed to be staring off into space.

“Hayden?” he asked, waving his hand in front of his brother’s face.

“Danny, I don’t feel good.”

“Let’s get you down from here,” Dan said, fear setting in immediately as he started backing off the branch. Before he could even begin moving down the trunk, Hayden started seizing. “Phil!” Dan shouted, lunging back at Hayden to keep him from falling from the branch.

Dan heard a faint cry of obscenities from the truck, where Phil had been listening to the car radio. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Dan told himself more than anyone else. “Just wait it out.” Hayden writhed in his grasp as he tried to maintain his breathing. “Ah!” he cried out as Hayden’s hand was thrown back into his nose. He released the boy, instinctively grasping his own face. Before Dan could realize what he’d done, Hayden was tipping away from him. He reached out, almost in slow motion, in a futile attempt to regain control of his brother’s body, but it was too late. He was already falling backwards. Dan screamed, unable to even look down.

A few seconds of tense silence passed; Dan was too terrified to say anything. The only thing filling the void was the sound of breathing. Dan couldn’t tell whose. “Hey, Dan?” a calm voice came from below.

“Ye-Yeah?” he said, peeking out from under his arm, where he’d hidden his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ve got him,” said Phil, cradling the boy in his arms.

Dan exhaled deeply and scrambled down the trunk. Phil had set Hayden down on the grass, and his seizing had ceased, but he was still unconscious. Dan tackled Phil in a violent yet brief kiss. “Thank you.”

As they separated, Hayden began to stir. “What happened?” His face turned from scared to dejected. “Did I seize again?”

“Yes, but you’re okay. Everything’s just fine,” Dan said, bending down and taking his hand.

“So I don’t have to go to hospital?”

Dan looked at Phil and back at Hayden. “Do you feel bad?”

“Just tired.”

Dan looked back at Phil, terrified to make a decision. Phil shook his head. “We’ll let you go rest, but we’ll come check up on you to make sure you’re okay. No hospital unless you keep feeling bad.”

A faint, sort of pained smile crossed Hayden’s face, and a realization hit Dan like a baseball bat to the head. He’d never realized until then how much the poor kid had been through. Yes, he’d had the same experiences as Dan himself had. It was something he thought about far too often for him to maintain his happy state of being. But he’d never realized how much more Hayden was going through than him. Dan had found a boyfriend in the new world he’d been placed in; Hayden had found a medical condition that made him fall out of trees. For that one moment, he put himself in his brother’s shoes, and it was absolutely miserable. Holding back tears, he spoke through gritted teeth. “Let’s get you back inside.”

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phic stuff #stars #chapter 17 #dong and ping

[ehyde]

Cold Memories (ghost!Suwon + modern reincarnation fic)

The previous post was getting long & I’ve started posting on AO3 now, so here’s a new post to keep everything organized.

Summary: Yona and Hak have been reincarnated as Rina and Jin, two normal high school students in modern-day Kouka. But when Rina is on a class trip to Hiryuu Castle, she meets a ghost who seems to recognize her. Being haunted by her own personal ghost can be annoying, but Suwon is friendly, cheerful, helpful...and nothing like the ancient king in her history books. What connection does he have to Rina and Jin--and what secrets is he keeping?

read from the beginning on ao3 | first three chapters on tumblr

Chapter four (in which even a friendly ghost can be quite spooky) under the cut.

School is as awkward as Rina expected, from the moment her ghostly companion sits next to her in an empty seat only for a classmate to sit right on top of him, to his murmurs of that’s not right during history, to his continuous whispered requests to explain the book that they’re discussing in lit class.

“I’ll explain the whole story later!” she finally tells him. “Can’t you see I really can’t talk right now?” When the whole class turns to stare at her, she realizes just how explosive her reply was...and that Suwon wasn't the only one who just asked her a question. So did the teacher.

So that's detention. And the school day isn't half over. She ignores Suwon the rest of the morning.

At lunchtime, Jin finds her, and he chats with Suwon--she’s forced to listen as Suwon explains what happened, as Jin laughs to hear the story. “Aw, poor Rina,” he teases. “You've never been a delinquent before. I'll wait for you,” he promises. “We can still walk home together.” It almost could have been sweet, if he didn’t go on to explain the novel to Suwon in full detail.

“I am sorry,” Suwon assures her. “What will your punishment entail?”

Rina sighs. “It won’t be that bad. I think they’ll just have us clean the school grounds. I’ll miss the martial arts club, though,” she adds, then immediately regrets saying it as Suwon’s eyes light up.

“You study martial arts?”

“Just...for fun. You--you probably know how to fight with a sword for real, in a war, right? This is just a sport.”

“But that's good! I wouldn't want you to see a war.”

“Knowing how to use a sword wouldn't do much good as far as that's concerned, anyway.”

“Oh? I can hardly believe that your modern era has done away with war.”

“No…just found more effective weapons.”

“Ah.” He nods in satisfaction. “To go along with your phones and airplanes.” They'd seen a plane in the sky while walking to school, and Suwon had been fascinated. To immediately recognize their use in warfare...but he'd been a king, after all. “Is Hak in this ‘martial arts club’ as well?”

Rina is startled. “Who?” Then, “oh--you mean Jin?” Suwon had admitted straightaway that Jin, like Rina, looked like someone he’d known, but this was the first time he’d named him.

“Yes...ah, sorry. Jin. Does he train with a spear?”

“M-hm,” Rina answers. Did this ‘Hak’ fight with a spear as well? “Fuuga has a long tradition of spear-fighting, so it’s popular in the club.” Suwon nods, no doubt more familiar with that tradition than Rina is herself.

Cleaning up trash around the school wouldn’t be a problem, except that Rina is assigned to work with two older boys who she knows are troublemakers. They know who she is, too--one of them used to follow her around, making comments about her hair--and this time, Jin isn’t around. “So, too good to talk to us, but not too good for detention!” Rina doesn’t reply. There’s nothing to gain here. “What was it for? Talking back to a teacher, I suppose.” At that, Rina flushes bright red, because of course he’s right.

“Be careful,” Suwon warns her. “These two give off a bad feeling.”

“They’re just teasing,” Rina mutters. “I can put up with it for a few hours.” They eventually wander off, leaving Rina to work on her own, but honestly, that’s preferable. It’s when they find her again--late in the day, when most of the teachers have left, and on the outer edge of the school grounds, that she feels that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, too.

“Hey there, little girl. Want to get in some real trouble?”

“No, thank you,” Rina says firmly.

And then before she knows what’s happening, the taller of the two grabs her shoulder. Suwon moves to push him away but of course he passes straight through him, and his look of frustrated rage is a sight to behold.

“We’ll have some fun,” says the older boy--his carefree smile says he already knows he’s going to have his way--and Rina twists out of his grip, reaching down to grab a fallen branch from the ground.

“Yona. The best thing to do right now is to run away.” Suwon is desperately calm, but now Rina is mad.

“They’ll just go after someone else!”

“Oh... you think you can use a sword, don't you?” Rina doesn't, she knows she can't, but what else can she do?”

“Step left.” Rina follows Suwon's direction without thinking, narrowly evading the boy's grasp. She lifts her makeshift weapon to defend against his next attempt, and it works--it’s not fencing, but it feels natural--until the other boy she’d forgotten was there pulls her down from behind.

Then she stands up. She’s not thinking about it but it isn’t until she spins back and knocks the second boy off his feet that she realizes she’s not moving at all. Suwon is--the ghostly outline of his arms with their long draping sleeves set over hers, moving with her, for her, and instead of the stick in her hands she sees an ornate, ancient sword. Rina stiffens when she realizes what’s happening--but Suwon keeps moving for her, one more blow striking at the first boy, and then--then he’s just holding her hand, pulling her away.

“Yona,” he says. “Yona, I—”

“You possessed me. You--you really possessed me!” But if he hadn’t, then who knew what those guys would have done to her?

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know I could!”

“Don’t ever do that again. But...thank you.” He stops. Stares at her. “You’re calling me Yona again. Was Yona someone you wanted to protect?”

Suwon looks upwards at the sky. “I...once cared for her very much, yes.”

“Was...was she someone you failed to protect?” He looks away and doesn't reply, and that tells Rina all she needs to know.

#akatsuki no yona #akayona fanfic #my fic #ghost suwon story

[gwenore]

College Days. Chapter 5.

Chapter 5: Strickler and Jim has a talk, Strickler having started to worry about the young teenager. 

Summary; Barbara often thinks back to the last day she saw her college friend Walter. About how they went to a party together… and what happened after, something she still is not sure was real. But she is not prepared when she sees him again at the parent/teacher conference all these years later.

Jim’s  flinched as once again the thunder of the canons rang out from the school speakers in history class. Why on all days would Mr. Strickler chose this one to go though advancements in warfare in from the French revolution to today? It didn’t even really follow from last weeks lesson.

His head was thumping and aching like it had never done before. Fair enough his mom’s cooking tended to be bad... even awful... but how on earth did she manage to screw up jello? And to this degree?

It was sort of impressive in its own right. They had tasted perfectly fine... which was what made him continue to eat them. All the sudden he was feeling weird, light headed and... relaxed. Like... nothing really mattered.

Jim could not remember how long it had been since he had felt so relaxed. With everything that had been going on at home... with school... not to mention...

He cast a glance down at his bag where he could see a faint shimmer.

He remember wanting to feel even better he just continued eating them. All the sudden he felt sick and rushed for the toilet. Or... that was what he seemed to remember... after everything was a blur... or perhaps a dream. His mom came home and... Mr. Strickler? That was rather confusing. He had meant about asking his mom about it, but she had a very early shift at the clinic and wasn’t there when he woke up. But there was a note on the table which said that he could stay home if he wasn’t feeling well... which was rather odd...

However when the sound of a loud air horn rang out the youth’s thoughts were rather painfully disrupted.

Mr. Strickler then mercifully shut off the video and switched on the lights... which was... less merciful...

“Alright... class dismissed, and keep in mind the assignment I handed out last week is due next Wednesday. Now you cannot say that I have not given you a notice,” he said as he waved his hand, classroom filling with sounds about students packing their things and moving out from the room... Strickler already knowing that he would get several complains about him not reminding them about the assignment.

Sometimes human stupidity could really astonish the changeling. Even in all the years he had dealt with them... he thought he would no way he was able to surprise him... they somehow managed to. It was enough to give him a headache.

Slowly he turned to see Jim lagging behind, rubbing his head.

“Mr. Lake, how about you come with me to my office,” he sad as he started to wander out. Jim simply sigh but followed him down the hall to his office where he pulled out a plastic cup filling it with some water, and handed him some painkillers.

“I am impressed you would even show up to school tonight after the night you had...” he said as he offered the teenager a seat. Jim furrowed his brows in confusion, before the realization hit him.

“You were there last night!” he exclaimed.

“Ah, I wondered if you would remember, but yes indeed I was there. Me and your mother... we were catching up on the old college days, only to come back to find someone having eaten all the jello-shots,” Strickler said as he sat himself in his chair.

“Jello-shots?” the teen question.

“Jello, but with vodka instead of water. A very... deceptive concoction,” Strickler made a slight wave of his hand. “Take your medicine, young Atlas, you will feel better.”

Jim did, the water honestly doing him a world of good on its own, Strickler filling it up for him right away, encouraging him to keep drinking.

“Seems like you are a bit hung over... you really did not realize?” he had to ask.

“I just thought it was mom’s attempt to make something and it went horribly wrong somewhere,” Jim admitted, rubbing his head.

“It was jello... why would you believe you would get this sick from jello?” the changeling had to ask.

“Mr. Strickler... when you knew my mom in college... did you ever try any of her cooking?” Jim slumped back in his chair.

“Cannot say that I did, no,” Strickler furrowed his brows slightly.

“Well... if you ever did... you wouldn’t be that surprised that she could screw up jello... which she technically did by putting vodka in it...” Jim grumbled as he looked towards the clock. “Oh no... I have PE...”

“Stay here, I will inform coach Laurence about you feeling a bit under the weather,” the history teacher informed the student.

“So... now you are helping me skip class?” Jim asked with a raised brow.

“Well... I do feel at least partially responsible for your state this morning... it is the least I could do,” the teacher informed him.

“Wait... since you know about... was that the reason for that... particular lesson?” Jim asked with a slight accusation towards the older man.

“Well... I thought there needed to be some kind of consequence. Those jello-shots were made for me after all,” he chuckled softly towards him. Jim rolled his eyes, even if he was very grateful to not have to do any form of exercise. He was certain that his breakfast would make an reappearance if he had to move any faster than a brisk walk.

“I am not really certain if I should thank you or not...” he murmured slightly.

“Hm... well, I suppose that is fair,” Strickler let out a soft chuckle.

“So... how long have you known my mother?” Jim asked curiously. It was still a great surprise to him to that his teacher and his mom knew each other. He had never met someone from his mother’s past before moving to Arcadia.

“Well... we simply met in college. I however had to return to England within the first semester of us being at the same college. I left rather abruptly, not having the time to say goodbye,” Strickler explained.

“So... wasn’t phones invented when you were in college?” Jim asked, causing his teacher to raise an brow at him.

“Either you have no clue when the phone was invented or believe me to be centuries old. As your history teacher I am not what would be more offensive,” Strickler rolled his eyes... not mentioning to the boy that he was in fact hundreds of years old. “Though... I did not know her last name, so finding her phone number... which I did not have... would be near impossible. Unlike you and your peers, we did not carry means of communication everywhere we went, and even access to such information was not as easy as typing words into a search engine.”

Jim shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“So... you and my mom did not date... did you?” the mere thought seemed to weird out the teenager.

“No... we did not get that far,” Strickler muttered.

“Good...” Jim said as he let out a sigh. The fact that his mom had dated his history teacher was not something that the teenager needed in his life. Not like it was not complicated enough. The changeling let out a soft laugh, however he noted how exhausted the teenager was. Sure... most of it could be blamed on the teenager being hung over, but... there had been several days now that he had seen the young man having been distracted in class... falling asleep more than once.

While mostly it was a sign of someone staying up to late playing games or being out... Strickler had a feeling this was not the case here. He had already nicknamed the teenager young Atlas... not without reason.

It seemed like he really had the whole world on his shoulders. A burden which was more than any adult could handle, and though Strickler suspected that the teenager would show quite the bit of ire upon hearing this... Jim was still just a child.

“Is something bothering you, young Atlas?” now the teacher’s voice had become more serious, rather than the jovial one not long ago.

“No... I am fine... just a bit hung over apparently...” the teen murmured.

“It was not what I was referring too. You have seemed rather distracted... far more than usual in fact. I hope you are not taking on too much,” he spoke softly. “Taking a break is fine.”

“But what if you can’t?” Jim asked.

“Is this about your mother? I am certain that she will be able to manage herself she is a grown woman after all,” Strickler leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk. Jim shook his head.

“No... it isn’t her. She is a bit busy at the hospital, but she has been trying to cut down her hours... it can still be busy, but...” Jim hesitated.

“That is something you are used to now isn’t it?” Strickler paused as Jim nodded his head.

“So... there is something new that is weighing down on your shoulders? You know you can always speak to me,” Strickler attempted to assure the youth. Again he could see hesitation in those blue eyes. In truth Strickler had trouble imagining what it could be. Jim was a good boy... far better than most adults, and used to handle a lot of pressure. Of course everyone had a breaking point, but Jim seemed rather happy for the most part with his busy life. He wasn’t the most popular, but he had close friends and seemed to be doing alright. His grades were decent and he did not get into trouble.

But it was clear that it was something going on.

“Um... it is just... something has happened recently...” Jim started. Strickler remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I just... I cannot really tell you... it just...” Jim continued slightly. “I just feel... a bit overwhelmed lately...”

Strickler let out a sigh, before he nodded.

“Just know this young Atlas... at times... we need to be selfish. You need too look after yourself, because if you do not, you are not good to anyone,” Strickler attempted to give him some advice. “Even if others may not like it, you at times need to make the choice that is best for you.”

Jim thought for a while before he nodded, giving the older man a slight smile.

“Thank you Mr. Strickler.”

“No worries. Now just head home, I will make a note that you were sick after my class, so you do not need to worry. Go home and get some sleep,” Strickler said as he stood up from his chair. “Are you certain you can get home safe? I could drive you.”

Jim shook his head.

“I am alright... I made it to school after all, the way home should be no problem,” he assured his teacher as he stood up. Strickler nodded his head.

“As you wish young Atlas, take care of yourself now, and I will see you tomorrow,” he said as he stood up, opening the door for his student.

“Tomorrow Mr. Strickler...” Jim smiled as he walked out the door and towards home.

#college days #stricklake #walter strickler #jim lake jr #knife family #avocado dad