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#not that i post about dave often admittedly but still
the-acid-pear · 2 months
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I love the parallel between how Dave and Jack deal with their grief because Dave on one hand just can't let anything go bc he's terrified of losing someone dear again while Jack on his part has lost so much and so often he just doesn't get attached to shit.
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rosaline-black · 11 months
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hiiii I hope you’re doing well 🫶🏻 I saw your post about hotch requests and was wondering if you could write something where he reassures reader she is enough just as she is when she’s having a depressive episode and struggling? a little angst and a lot of fluff? thank you 🥰🥰
Okay here are some warnings since this is a bit heavy. If you suffer with depression and are triggered by talks of depression and low mood skip this one. I used a lot of my own experience in this so hopefully it’s semi relatable. Here is the uk Samaritans number in case you’re struggling. 116 123. I love you and I promise you. You are enough <3
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It had been three days. Three days of not leaving your house, or your bedroom. Every step you took to fetch food or use the bathroom felt like walking to the gallows.
People often thought of depression as just being a little sad. You disagreed. It felt like the titanic was sinking in your chest, it felt like the world was ending and you were the reason. Hopeless. And the thing that made it worse was the anxiety. They danced together like a couple in an extremely toxic and abusive tango that felt like it would never end.
Working as an FBI agent meant that usually you were occupied. Your anxieties worked to motivate you into catching whatever despicable human was committing the atrocities you were so used to investigating. But non optional holiday was a bitch, and your boss, who had assumed was doing you a favour had unknowingly signed you up for a week of obsessive suffering.
Hotch was fond of you. More then fond actually but you didn’t know that yet. So fond in fact that he had texted you three days in a row. They were just small updates, little quips about each day the team were on a case. But every single one felt like the sun shining on your soul through the cracks in your window.
Morgan tripped walking towards the crime scene, I thought you’d enjoy the mental image.
We’re closer to catching this guy, Dave has said he’s buying the first round when we’re done.
Hope you’re enjoying your time off. The unsub is in custody and we’re about to board the jet.
You turned over in bed. It had been a while since that last text came through and you were yet to reply to any of them. This wasn’t uncommon for you, admittedly you were a lazy texter but this time the laziness had morphed into numbness. The complete absence of care for really anything.
At first you’d thought you had imagined it. Maybe your mind so devoid of stimulation had mocked up the noise of your doorbell ringing. As if anybody cared enough anyway. Then it rang again. Had you ordered food and forgotten? Had a package on the way?
Mustering every ounce of energy remaining in your body you hauled yourself to your feet and stomped towards your door. If the delivery man saw your stained t shirt and knotted hair, that was his issue, cause you didn’t care enough to check the mirror before unlocking your door.
Sadly, it wasn’t a delivery driver, nor an Amazon employee. It was the man who gave you this week off. If you weren’t so self conscious over your appearance you would of noticed how scared Hotch looked.
Truthfully he had been terrified. No sarcastic replies, no joyful emojis. Nothing. His first thought had selfishly gone to one of resentment. You were probably away with a boyfriend for the weekend, spending your week falling hopelessly in love with someone who wasn’t him.
But then a second text was sent, and a second day went by and he still heard nothing. By the third day hotch had convinced himself something truly awful had happened. Which technically it had, but not in the way he’d envisioned it.
Even in this state he found you enchanting, but he was no fool. You weren’t suffering at the hands of a kidnapper like the images his concerned mind had formed. You were suffering at the hands of your mind which had so cruelly betrayed you.
“Hotch I’m preoccupied at the moment so-“
His arms felt like the cosiest pillow wrapping themselves around you. This was highly inappropriate but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. This was the most alive you had felt in days and before you could question yourself, the previous numbness melted away into a pool of emotions.
Aaron stroked your hair and his murmurs of ‘im here honey’ only enabled your sobbing to increase. You were coaxed onto the sofa and as much as you didn’t want hotch to let you go, you allowed him to. His dark eyes found yours and you looked down shamefully.
Two fingers hooked under your chin and pulled you to look up at him again. He looked imposing but kind. No pity just worry. That was more reassuring then he would ever know.
“You don’t have to tell me what you’re thinking about… or… or what’s caused you to feel this way, if anything at all but… If you don’t mind I’d like to stay and look after you…”
With a nod you resigned to his care. Without a moment to even comprehend what was happening, hotch had fetched you a large glass of water, turned on the television and passed you the remote before grabbing a takeout menu and scanning it.
“You like Chinese food… I’ll order us dinner…”
“Hotch you really don’t need to do this-“
“No… but I want to… don’t make me order you into letting me take care of you agent…”
You feigned annoyance but the slight smidge of a smile alerted hotch to the realisation that his presence wasn’t completely unwanted. Jack was in bed at Jessica’s. You were his responsibility now.
Once the food had arrived Hotch tried his best to sit as normally as possible. He was good at faking comfortability. But you were an FBI profiler. In between bites of special fried rice you decided to relieve him of the questions you had assumed were plaguing his brain.
“I hate time off because when I come home… there’s no greater reason for me to wake up and brush my teeth… there’s no lives at risk if I decide I just can’t be bothered to complete simple tasks… there’s so much… time” you huffed a bitter chuckle and shook your head.
Normally when you’d confess this to other people, explaining that you didn’t have a reason why you felt this way you just did, that would dig further and attempt to reason with you. Or they would try and force you to get up, take you to coffee and just enhance the feeling of despair as you passed happy strangers.
Aaron said nothing. The perfect amount of nothing where you knew he understood what you were saying. You knew he didn’t judge the fact that you hadn’t showered in three days. He just knew.
“Thank you Hotch…”
“I just wiped snot from your nose I think you can call me Aaron now…”
He took your laughter as a good sign.
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alcida-auka · 1 year
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Regarding that infamous Ahsoka/Bo-Katan slap
Hey, quick message for my fellow but much younger Tumblr peeps?
I saw an otherwise well written post about Bo-Katan's past, but I had to take pause at one note that Bo-katan Kryze slapping Ahsoka on the butt was a sign Bo was sexually abused as a teen/child.
Okay. No. Now that's not to say Bo wasn't sexually abused. She was definitely manipulated by an adult in the form of Pre Viszla, and perhaps we can imagine that was a part of it.
However, regarding that butt slap? That signIfies nothing. I need y'all to understand that people of a certain age--me and Dave Filoni-- grew up in a time where a guy slapping another guy's ass during a game was just dudes socializing, and a woman slapping another woman or girl on the ass was just considered "cheeky" or rude and impudent.
In other words, it wasn't considered sexual, and to think such a scene was indicative that a fictional character had been sexually assaulted is very much misunderstanding the admittedly not-great heteronormative cultural attitudes that people his age sometimes still have (and they shouldn't).
Obviously today, butt slapping people of the same sex is treated the same as slapping someone of the opposite sex. And this is fine. Honestly, you shouldn't lay hands on any one you don't know, regardless if the intent is sexual or not. (Hell, it was just 15 years ago, that anime fans thought it was fine to "glomp" on strangers at conventions, our attitudes have changed quite a bit recently, and for the better).
At the time this episode came out, many adults Filoni's age watching it saw it as a typical "funny" scene showing us that Bo-Katan is rude and putting a "lesser" girl Ahsoka in her place. Yeah, it's not a nice scene--Bo comes off as a pick-me girl, and likely was. But to assign sexual intent towards it is to ignore the retrograde attitudes that often inform the older people that write these shows.
Seriously, watch enough 80s/90s sitcoms--women pinching or slapping another woman's ass isn't considered sexual, unlike a man doing the same thing. Again--it's reflective of heteronormative attitudes that say a woman doing the slapping is always nonsexual, and thus "safe" to laugh.
AGAIN: I'M NOT SAYING IT'S A GREAT SCENE, OR BO-KATAN WAS GOOD TO DO IT. DEFINITELY NOT DEFENDING FILONI WHO BY 2012 SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER. I'M JUST SAYING THAT ASSIGNING A SEXUAL INTENT TO IT (AND ALSO BO-KATAN) WAS LIKELY NOT THE INTENT OF THE WRITER, BUT UNFORTUNATELY THOSE REASONS AREN'T GREAT EITHER.
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I was trying to think of something that might inspire you to revisit jack rollins/dave rumlow, because they were so stinking cute, but when I came to your page to post this ask I saw that you reblogged that hallmark movie aftermath / business power couple au post, and now my brain is trying to make brock/darcy being the city couple that got ditched by their exes at xmas, but jack/dave getting the proper hallmark movie romance...
hmmm... if we keep it in the MCU... Brock and Darcy are vaguely aware of each other due to moving in the same SHIELD adjacent circles but don't really know each other/never really had cause to interact. Before now. They wind up on the same flight from London to NY after both having travelled to London to save their relationships / surprise their significant other by visiting for xmas, only to end up dumped like the stuffy city boyfriend in a hallmark movie (darcy by ian who got back with his college sweetheart, brock by another shield agent he'd been dating on and off for years, who took up a permanent post in the London office and reunited with ex).
Brock and Darcy spend the 8hr flight venting about their exes, getting to know each other better, falling in love...
Meanwhile, back in the Bronx.... Brock had invited Jack to spend xmas with his family, only to ditch him last minute for his spur of the moment trip to London to fix things with his girlfriend (who jack's maybe never really liked), leaving Jack alone with Brock's mother, his many sisters, and half a dozen nieces and nephews. The oldest of which is 20-something college student/recent college grad Dave. Who, while a lot younger than Jack, not to mention the guys he usually dates, is admittedly very cute and funny and keeps trying to manufacture reasons for them to be alone / get out of the house together.
Jack tries to keep his distance but when he gets a text from Brock saying he'll be landing stateside soon, Jack insists on picking him up from the airport, and Dave insists on keeping him company. He's outnumbers several Rumlow's to one poor out of his depth Australian, so queue a long trip to the airport fighting holiday/peak hour traffic getting to know each other better / Dave slowly, adorably, knocking down Jack's well intentioned defenses.
They're almost to the airport when Angela calls them wondering where they are - didn't they get Brock's text saying the flight had been diverted due to a snow storm and he's back in DC spending xmas with a friend?
No, Jack didn't realise he'd gotten a text or several missed calls, because he's been a tad distracted, alright? So, they turn back around and as soon as they get stuck in standstill traffic Dave pounces on him and they make out like teenagers. They get honked at when traffic starts moving again and decide to cut their losses and get off the freeway for a bit, winding up, completely by serendipitous (ooh! Serendipity AU!) accident, at some sort of delightful xmas market featuring all the cliche requirements - trees, carols, ice skating, snow, hot chocolate, etc etc, and spend a romantic evening strolling through the markets hand in hand...
🎄🎁
Anonymous asked:
Amendment to previous ask... ditch the drive to the airport. Brock doesn't announce his return so that leaves Jack at his mom's house making nice with his family, trying not to flirt with Dave. One, he's much too you for him. Two, Brock and every Rumlow under that roof would kill him.
But there's still a few days til xmas and not much for the two of them to do other than babysit squabbling children or listen to the Rumlow women squabble as they cook. So Jack and Dave get out of the house as often possible and end up enjoying all the cliche hallmark xmas tropes... xmas markets, ice skating, carriage ride in the snow, kissing under the mistletoe...
They return to casa rumlow hand in hand- after Jack finally gives in and risks the rumlow family wrath by agreeing to extend their brief holiday flirtation and date the younger man - to find brock making out with Darcy in the driveway.
"What are you doing with her? Where's [ex]?"
What am doing..?! What the hell are you doing with my nephew?"
"Dave?"
"Darcy?"
Okay, I am going to give you a little push here: you need to write this fic! It's right there in your head, all the little details, all the scenes. I cannot possibly flesh this out as well as you already have. You've got to write it! Even if you decide to use all new OCs, which I heartily endorse, I think the muse is batting at you with a cardboard tube to write some Taserbones with a side of Jack/Assorted Rumlows.
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banigarubug · 4 years
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Boys (Corpse x MALE!Reader)
VERY excited for this prompt! here is where i acknowledge corpse irl is straight: (pause to acknowledge). and here is where i write a piece of fiction that corpse has expressed he’s ok with!
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Please do a Corpse x male!reader - if you write for males but if not then GN will be okay ^^ - where reader is very edgy, wears techwear 24/7 and is taller than Corpse.
I’m not seeing enough male reader/GN fics where the reader is just as edgy if not edgier than Corpse—
you met corpse at a gas station, but he’s still cute. no corona ;)
warnings: minimal food talk, maybe swearing but i can’t remember lmao
-
The day you met Corpse had you both stopped in your tracks.
Well, admittedly, Corpse was more so. You pride yourself on being able to keep it together, but Corpse has always been a dweeb who just tries his best - and often fails - to play it cool. This was obvious from the moment you’d met him, literally bumping into him at a gas station as you were both on your phones walking towards each other.
Your phone survived the accident, but Corpse’s clattered to the floor. You tore your eyes away from your screen as soon as your bodies made contact and immediately picked up his phone from the floor. “I’m so sorry,” you said, inspecting his phone. It’s fine, save for one long crack across the top left, thankfully missing the front camera entirely. You handed it to him, and finally noticed him staring up at you with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, confused.
He cleared his throat. “All good,” he replied, voice muffled just slightly by the fabric mask over his mouth. It’s deeper than you’d expected, and you startled a little at it, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Uh, it’s my fault too.”
“Well, you know,” you replied, shrugging. “There’s no place like twitter dot com.” You quirked a smile as you flashed your phone, displaying the Twitter timeline open on the screen. 
He laughed, opening his phone to show that he’d been on Twitter too. “Uh, I’m Corpse,” he said.
You smiled at him, maybe more bashful than intended. “Y/N,” you replied, sticking out your hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he said, and as your hands met, a blush threatened the outer corner of your cheeks. His hands were… really nice. “Even if you broke my phone,” he teased.
You laughed, already feeling the tension between you two melt. “You’re just as much to blame here, Corpsie.”
As it turned out, your cars were parked next to one another’s at the pumping station, so you walked there together. You talked the whole way through picking up an armful of candy as he got a collection of energy drinks apparently for him and his friend Dave, and you kept talking while you finished putting gas in your car. And then you kept talking afterwards too, until Dave reached over and shouted out the open car window, “Dude, just ask for his number already!”
You grinned and Corpse blushed. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning to you, but you shook your head, still smiling at him happily. It was cute. “Look, if it’s too forward, I’m really sorry, but - I don’t usually get along with people this easily. Maybe we could… do this again?”
“Sure,” you agreed easily. You told yourself it’s only because you didn’t mind it, not that it was too hard to say no to that hopeful look in his eyes and that you didn’t want to forget how cute he sounded when he laughed. “Give me your phone.”
“You might crack it again,” Corpse replied, but he handed you the phone anyway. You rolled your eyes as you typed in your number, adding a heart next to your contact name.
-
A week later, after texting and calling and FaceTiming nonstop, finally he asked you out. He took you to get boba, and you had dinner at his place, and when he dropped you off at yours, he stood on the front porch, only a few inches between you.
“I had fun tonight,” you said. There was something exhilarating about it, how he craned his neck to look at you, eyes scanning over your face nonstop like he was trying to read something off of your skin. To break the tension, you softly added, “Even if you did keep making fun of my pants.”
Corpse laughed, a breathless thing. He reached out to pull at one of the straps hanging down, letting it fling back gently against your leg with a dull smacking noise. “I just don’t get why there’s so many straps. And pockets.”
You leaned in. You told yourself - and later, him - it was because you wanted him to shut up about your stupid pants, but you and Corpse both knew the truth.
-
When Corpse asked if you would be his boyfriend, you got the upgrade: access to the streamer room. You’d known, in your dating period, that he was an ‘internet personality’, as he very vaguely described it, but the lack of details he was willing to share discouraged you from sleuthing around on the internet. Of course, when he finally let you in a little more, thanks to his million followers, you blended in. Nobody knew that you, the random account simping in his replies, was the same guy whose hand made its way into Corpse’s Instagram stories more than once.
Your favorite thing maybe ever was seeing when Corpse posted pictures of him holding your hand. Most of the time, you didn’t even notice him taking the photos, but it was sweet, how your nails matched and he had sweater paws while you had tattoos. Even as a faceless YouTuber, it meant something to you that he was still proud of your relationship. His fans got a kick out of it too, nicknaming you Corpse Boyfriend.
But now, the real boyfriend test. He invited you to stream with him while he played Phasmophobia. You would talk to chat and ghosts as needed, and Corpse would do most of the heavy lifting. Of course you were nervous, but you never let on about it.
Well, Corpse knew you pretty well. When he asked if you were sure you were ready, and you said duh, bro, of course, he said, “Don’t bro me.” (He still kissed you though.)
“Corpse Husband, did you bring Corpse Boyfriend?” Corpse read aloud from the chat while they were waiting to get started with the game. “You guys have been hearing rumors? Well, lucky you, I did! I want you guys to meet N/N.”
“Hey,” you said, smiling at Corpse. “I wanna start my presence on this channel by telling all two hundred thousand of you that I’m taller than Corpse.”
“That’s the most important thing?” Corpse laughs at you. “You’re like, maybe two inches taller.”
“Don’t lie to your fans, Husband. You’re at least three inches shorter.”
“Two,” he insists playfully. “And that’s the hill I’ll die on. Boyfriend.”
-
A few days later, when Dave comes over to hang out, you make him measure the two of you and force Corpse to post the lines on the wall as evidence. Three inches, he captions. Boyfriend wins :(
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masterwords · 2 years
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Negative Space
PART FOUR
Summary: Hotch is struggling with PTSD, grief and hearing problems in the days after the explosion in New York. (From the end of Mayhem -> post Angel Maker)
Warnings: injuries from the explosion in Mayhem, car accident, **major character death (Hotch)**
Pairings: Hotch/Morgan
Words: 2k
Read On AO3: Negative Space
Notes: This is for Comfortember Day 30 - Light and the End of the Tunnel. Yeah, so I interpreted that prompt loosely, as I often do. I hope Hotch saw a light. I'm sorry, there isn't much else I can say here...I kept it short.
Find the rest here: Comfortember 2021
**
Aaron poked his finger into the blinds, peered at the looming dawn still gray, pale yellow tendrils of sunlight blotting out stars slowly. His phone buzzed, it was JJ letting him know they needed to get to the crime scene right away. Only his SUV remained in the lot, everyone else had already gone in, they would be the last on the scene.
“Five minutes,” Aaron called, stalking quickly out of the room and down to his own. He'd gotten ready in less time.
The rest of the day was a blur, there was no time to think about Kate, about Derek going to New York. Everything was so close to the surface, all of his senses were firing too intensely and he couldn't figure out how to handle a single one of them so he turned them off, focused entirely on the case. He couldn't look at Derek without wanting to push him into a storage closet, so he spent most of the day making Derek go anywhere he wouldn't be. His focus became entirely the fact that they were searching for a ghost, stares from locals burned hot when he moved through the town. He walked down the street and felt them looking at him, he could see the way the question hung on the tip of their tongues.
“Is it him? Is it Ryan?” They all wanted to know it. He wanted to know it, too. Not that he believed it but the further in they got without leads, the more he was willing to consider things outside his normal inclination. Not a ghost, per se, but there was something odd going on here.
“No, it's a copycat...” Derek assured him, because Sid Rutledge was murdered by a woman and now...they have direction and he's confident that the impossible will have a reasonable explanation if they can figure it out. Admittedly, if he was on his game, they might have figured it out sooner. Or, if he'd taken time off and let them go without him...they'd probably be home by now. He knew he was more a detriment than an attribute right now no matter how he tried to keep his focus.
There was very little for him to do at the station, he was bored. Hunched over files while Spencer deciphered the code, did more work with his eyes closed than Aaron was responsible for at all. It was not his best display.
**
With his hands pressed firm over both ears, Aaron trembled like the earth moved beneath him. All Dave could do was watch helplessly. Into his com he called for Derek while the scene broke out into chaos around them and he waved away help, person after person.
“He alright?”
“Did he get hit?”
Dave's grip on Aaron's arms was laced with fear, he could feel it course through him. Somewhere in there, the words bounced around with no escape...I'm okay he wanted to say. His legs were heavy, weighted beneath him, pulling him to the ground. Only held upright by Dave, and suddenly he was being lead away from everything, away from the crush of bodies, hugged close to Dave's chest. It was quick, the way Dave searched Derek out in the crowd, pulled him away from wherever he thought he should be because he wasn't answering his com. The hand off was simple, just a quick nod of their heads and Derek had his arm around Aaron's shoulders walking him further away, around a hedge to someone else's quiet, dark yard for a moment to breathe, and then to the SUV. He couldn't move on his own, couldn't argue, completely immobilized by the shattering pain in his head. It wouldn't stop. There was no sound, he nothing but the ringing, the shot, the force of the pain blowing through his skull. He let out a whimper, weak, so tired of this.
“Derek...” he gasped, a sob bursting from his chest. There was no way he could hide it, just had to hope Derek had gotten them far enough away that it wouldn't matter, no one would see them or say anything if they did. Enough people at the crime scene thought he was shot, he was happy to let them think it for just a few minutes to make a desperate grab at peace. Derek pulled him into the back of the SUV parked nearby, behind the safety of the tinted windows. He tucked Aaron into his lap and pressed his hand to Aaron's forehead, held pressure there above his eyebrows, his other arm draped around his shoulders, hugging the whole of his weight against his own chest. The pressure from Derek's hand released some of the severity of whatever was happening in his head and he found himself relaxing little by little into the touch. He wasn't really doing anything but he may as well have been healing him, the way Aaron fell into him, finally able to take one and then two easy breaths. Derek pressed his cheek to Aaron's temple, slowed his own breathing to try and influence Aaron's.
“You idiot...” Derek whispered, and Aaron reached into his pocket with one trembling hand, pulled out the ear plugs and held them up for Derek to see. He was trying, he really was. It had to count for something. “Those belong in your ears...not your pocket...” Derek said, but he did it with a smile, he understood. Aaron couldn't hear him, there was pounding and throbbing, the feeling of his heart and his pulse in his head but no sound. It was the most disorienting part, the way everything was too much, too hot, pain increased tenfold and he closed his eyes, leaned back and let the tears fall. He was tired of pretending it didn't hurt as bad as it did, tired of wrecking Derek by making him guess at ways to fix him when he couldn't be fixed.
When the SUV began moving, he was startled and peered around frantically until he realized Dave and Emily were up front having a conversation, a heated one by the looks of it but Emily's smile and Dave's frown told him it was good-natured at least. He was glad not to hear it. The ride, at least for him, was silent all the way back to the hotel and he stumbled toward his room of his own accord while Derek stayed behind long enough to talk with Dave at his window. By the time Derek entered, Aaron was lying in the bed, eyes closed, face pressed into the pillow. He didn't hear Derek come in, didn't hear him shut the door or rummage through Aaron's bag for something to wear to bed, but felt him slide into the bed beside him. Hands on him immediately, Aaron pulled Derek close and Derek shook his head no. Not again. It wasn't helping, this new outlet Aaron had discovered, it wasn't helping either of them. Least of all him.
“No,” he said, holding Aaron's face in his hands. “Not tonight.” Aaron couldn't exactly read his lips but he understood nonetheless. He didn't disagree, not really, but he was disappointed. He craved that release, that peace he couldn't seem to find anywhere else...it was a mechanism to turn the noise down, smooth over the grief in a way that allowed him to continue ignoring it all. Kate was gone and he had to come to terms with that, with the fact that he hadn't been able to save her. He still had emails from her in his inbox that needed answering, who did he send them to now? And then there was Strauss breathing down his neck about Derek's possible transfer. None of that was going away, but when Derek moved inside of him it quieted down. It wasn't fair to put that on his partner, it had seemed harmless at first but Derek needed it as much as he did and they weren't helping each other, just digging their hole deeper.
They both needed a way out.
“I'm not coming back today,” Aaron said, toweling his hair off as Derek lay in bed tapping at the keys on his laptop the following morning. They were moving slowly, things felt less hurried now that they knew they were going home. Derek hummed, kept staring at the screen, barely listening. “Did you hear me?”
“Uh huh...” Derek mumbled dismissively. He kept typing, it was long and fast and Aaron longed to peek over his shoulder, to see what he was writing though he had his suspicions. “Gotcha. What time does the jet leave?”
“Ten,” Aaron said, dropping the towel to the floor, just testing Derek. Standing there naked and Derek didn't even glance up from his work, it had to be important. With a jarring finality he clicked the mouse pad and closed the screen, finally allowing himself to look over at Aaron, take in the sight. As Aaron suspected, moments later his phone buzzed and he raised an eyebrow, Derek only smiled and shrugged.
“Strauss is going to have my head,” Aaron teased softly and Derek grinned.
“She'll have to go through me first. I can't leave the BAU.”
Parting at the police station was fast, a few goodbyes, a plate of cookies and off they went. “You sure you don't want me to join you?” Derek asked, pressing Aaron up against the car, just out of sight. Aaron smiled and shook his head.
“No, I think I need some time alone...” he said quietly, but without a hint of hesitation. He'd contemplated asking Derek plenty of times but something nagged at him, told him this was a solo thing, these were his problems to sort through. He couldn't shake it. “I've been pretty difficult to handle the last few days...” his voice trailed off and Derek took the opportunity to slip in one more kiss.
“Ya damn right you have. I'll be waiting when you get back.”
“I know.”
The jet barely crossed the state line before Penelope's face appeared on the screen, a rare sight on a return trip.
“What's up, dollface?” Derek asked, waving his hand so everyone would quiet down and give her attention. There was something in her face, a spreading fog at the bottom of her glasses that told him she'd been crying. He didn't even know what was happening but he felt his heart stop, his jaw clench. “Penelope?” he urged, and everyone stared at her as she opened her mouth, willed her voice to come.
“There was nothing they could do...” she whispered, staring straight at Derek, unable to tear her eyes away. She thought he would be the hardest to look at, thought she would have avoided him but it's them she can't look at. She couldn't watch the way Spencer's face fell, she really couldn't look to see if he cried. (He did.) She couldn't see the way JJ and Emily's hands found one another, fingers twisting together while they struggled to hold it together. She couldn't look at Dave as he processed the idea that he'd have to walk by that office every day, and he'd go home to emails with Aaron's name on them that would no longer need answering. She stared at Derek and she couldn't read him, she didn't know what he would do. There was a time in his life when he might have punched a hole in something, but she looked to his hands and they sat folded neatly on the table in front of him. He hadn't moved, was barely breathing. She hadn't even said what happened, supposed she didn't need to, all of their phones lit up at once and that would tell them all they needed to know, she wouldn't have to say the words. “He was gone before the ambulances arrived. There was nothing they could do.” She couldn't say more, she was just staring at Derek, really just talking to him while she choked on her heart in her throat. He hadn't picked up his phone, everyone around him was holding theirs, staring in disbelief at the information, the details flooding their screens. They'd just seen him, an hour hadn't even passed, it didn't seem real. Just another ghost story to leave in that town. Dave was talking with Sheriff Dobson who was at the scene, his officer taking photos of the accident, collecting witness accounts, holding things for them as long as he could. They felt the lurch of the jet as it turned, rerouted them back to Ohio, and no one said a word.
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aquillis-main · 3 years
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Well, we know your thoughts on Sonic's English VAs, but I'm now curious about how you'd rank the English VA's of the other characters and why
Gosh, that’s a load of names I have to sort through...
I actually prefer Jason Griffith’s take on Shadow more than David Humphrey and Kirk Thornton in general -- Humphrey is next because I feel he’s more nuanced, while Thornton I feel is trying too hard to be memeable, especially with ‘You got dis, Sonic!’ in Generations.
Tails’ Voice Actors: Tails went through a full family of kids (Corey and Conner Bringas, the former who does Tails in Adventure, the latter doing Tails in Adventure 2), before hoping onto another kid for Heroes (William Corkey). I will not comment on these, as well as Charmy’s voice actress Emily Corkey, for one reason: they were kids at the time of when the games were being recorded, so them being subpar is natural.
Between Amy Palant, Kate Higgens, and Colleen O’Shaughnessy, I say O’Shaughnessy is the best out of all the Tails’. Mainly because that O’Shaughnessy sounds both childish, yet smart as well. Amy Palant also did too, but I felt Tails was often too absent in the games, while Higgens leaned too hard into the ‘kid’ side, which didn’t help the writing at the time.
Amy’s Voice Actresses: Admittedly, I feel like Amy was the best with Jennifer Douillard was the best out of all the voice actresses, mainly because it was both ‘brattish’ yet also calm and nice. Liza Ortiz comes behind that with emphazisizing more of Amy’s kindness fully (helped by her getting lines where she is more concerned than Douillard did), with Minnie Mouse -- I mean, Cindy Robinson dead last.
Knuckles went through a load of English Voice Actors, so I’mma keep it brief.
Micheal Mcgarahan was just as bad as Ryan Drummond with how bland he was at times (there’s a reason Knuckles going ‘oh no’ still makes me laugh).
Scott Drier, the person after Adventure was the perfect Knuckles to me. Dan Green failed to do good to that role, Travis Willingham tried too hard to be Dan Green, and Dave Mitchell is actually nice -- Not as good as Scott, but pretty close.
I think I talked a bit about Deem Bistrow and Mike Pollock, so I’ll skip those two. You can find that post here if you’re interested.
Cream’s Voice Actresses: Sarah Wulfeck only had one chance to be Cream’s voice actress in Sonic Heroes, so I don’t really have positive or negative feelings towards her. All other times she voice acted is in grunts and sighs.
Rebecca Honig is the best voice of Cream, even when she started being less used because of so-called ‘limitations’ to her character. I think that’s bullshit, and Cream is too powerful to be sidelined like this. Michelle Ruff also suffers from ‘not used a load’ syndrome, so I can’t really comment besides her being too over the top in Minnie Mouse syndrome.
Lanni Minella’s okay. Like before with Cream, she only had two games where we could get a good look at her closely before she got replaced. Not bad. Kathleen Delany I feel is the right Rouge, even if she had to work to make it. Meanwhile, I feel that Karen Strassman is very close to the ‘right Rouge voice’ now, but not quite.
Jon St. John I hate for Big -- he made the guy too dumb. However, I quite like him for Omega (because he doesn’t make Omega sound like a moron), so I have mixed feelings abut the guy. I prefer Oliver Wyman as Big the Cat, and I wished he came in the later games as well. But Big’s lucky that I don’t have to rate him for his later voice, because the only other time he’s been in the games is Sonic Team Racing, and --
*Whispers from the back*
Wait, Big’s voice actor from 2010 returned to voice him in Sonic Team Racing?
Erm, Kyle Herbert. Haven’t really heard much of his voice work, so I’ll pass on that.
Lani Minella is the only ‘original voice actor’ who I felt was the best role for the character. She felt right as Rouge -- both sultry enough to pass as a thief, yet also smart-sounding enough to be an agent. Kathleen Delanney pushed too hard at the ‘sultry’ side for me to like her, and I feel this is what SEGA wants as Karen Strassman has the same problem. Nevertheless, they aren’t bad voice actors for her, I just prefer the direction to be different from ‘sultry’.
Bill Corkey as Espio I have no strong feelings for. Like with Cream, Charmy, and Vector’s voice actors, Bill only had one game to voice act Espio before he was replaced by the 4Kids cast, so I have no particular strong nor negative feelings towards this actor.
Amy Birnhaum as Charmy is alright, David Wills as Espio was the only one that didn’t feel like a rush job from the start, and Carter Cathcart as Vector never returned after this fantastic ‘find the Computer Room!’ line. Sad.
Troy Baker and Mathew Mercer I feel sound too similar to one another, so I can’t really remember them VCing Espio at all. Keith Silverstien as Vector is the best, and sadly Charmy’s only voice-actor for Forces is uncredited/absent from the page I’m working on, so I can’t comment on that.
I mentioned E-123 Omega’s first voice actor, So I’ll skip over him. Jeff Kramer and Maddie Blaustin Sounded exactly the same to me, so I didn’t feel there was a difference in their roles as Omega, while I tend to lean towards Aaron Palante nowadays. His odd stint as Vic Mignonga was... interesting? But I don’t really remember enough to care.
Gonna go over to Blaze, Silver and the Babylon Rogues now...
Bella Hudson as Blaze is pretty great, though I don’t remember much of Laura Bailey nor Erica Lindeck to really have a strong opinion on either of them.
Pete Caprella as Silver actually made me dislike Silver for a time, as he sounded like a snob when I was younger. Dunno why I got that. As such, I prefer Quinton Flynn for Silver over Caprella. I haven’t heard Bryce Papenbrook yet, so I dunno about him.
Jason Griffith as Jet is probably the best version of Jet, Micheal Yurchak can’t compare.
Wave had Bella Hudson, but I couldn’t help but feel like she was the snootier Blaze at times. Kate Higgens did her well.
Both Travis Willingham and Dan Green did good on Storm the Albatross, with what they had to work with. He’s just Big with less of the cuteness, after all.
Lightning Round time:
All the Zeti’s voice actors are okay with what they had to work with, and I guess Sticks’ voice actress Nika Flutterman works fine as ‘conspiracy theorist’, though that joke got boring after a while...
... I’m not doing anyone else. I’m done.
EDIT: Forgot one thing:
Tikal, Paramachamac, and Omochao suck in general. For Omochao, it’s on purpose. For Tikal and Pachirisu, it isn’t. Then again, all three Echidnas in Sonic Adventure sucked ass, so that wasn’t hard to do.
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diegvsknife · 4 years
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After I had watched season 1 back in 2019, I made a post talking about what I thought of each of the siblings and how much I liked them, so I figured that I should do this again now that I watched season 2 because man things have changed quite a bit.
Luther: Big yes. His development this season was so good. I never quite hated Luther as much as everyone else did, for most of season 1 I actually thought he was just fine, until the whole thing with Vanya happened of course. Now though? He got that redemption and it worked. I liked the fact that, upon meeting Vanya again, he immediately apologizes to her and even realizes that what he did was wrong. I thought it felt genuine. He admits this again later around Diego, too. I had believed that Luther could be redeemed and heck he was. He's not a favorite but I do like him now and him interacting with the others (specifically Diego and Five) was hilarious. So good on him! And I'm glad the fandom seems to be accepting him more now too. He definitely had to redeem himself most out of all of them and I'm happy that it was succesful.
Diego: Well what do you expect me to say, this account is literally mainly Diego themed. He's been my BOY since season 1 and nothing has changed about that. I did feel like he was done a bit dirty in season 2 because him having a boner for both JFK and Lila was overshadowing a lot of his further development but that's more on the writing than on him. I also feel like they dumbed him down a little for whatever reason? Like, sure, he's not meant to be some genius like Five, but he sure used more braincells in season 1- He did have some really awesome moments again though. which I listed in a previous post, and his development from "I'm a lone wolf and I need to do everything on my own because I can't trust anyone" to "I'm starting to accept that it's ok to rely on others and that I don't have to go through shit all alone and I'm even admitting that I love my family in front of them" was beautiful. I won't get into that much detail here because I talk about him a lot anyways and will continue to do so, so I'll leave it at this. I could go on about him for hours though. Obvious favorite.
Allison: Y E S!!!! Just. Yes. Imma be honest, I didn't like her that much in season 1 all things considered, she had some great moments there but overall I was iffy about her and also her ability and the way she would use it. Cue season 2 and everything changes. The fact that she stopped using her power because she wanted to accomplish things on her own and only used it when absolutely needed was a huge improvement and I loved that part of her development so much. And the way that they made a good part of her plotline revolve around activism for equal rights was! Absolutely! Amazing! It was handled so well and her being that strong, independent woman fighting for her rights as a person of color really made me adore her. It didn't have much to do with the main plot of the show but this side plot might have been my favorite this season. Also her relationship with Ray was honestly so goddamn precious, it got me into my feelings a lot. They deserved the world. So yeah! Once again, I think her development worked out super well and I love her a lot. Also...not really an important thing but my GOD her style this season! From the hair to the outfits...gorgeous. Even greater than in s1. I'm gay yes that's all
Klaus: Honestly, not that much has changed since season 1. Admittedly, he didn't go through that much development (frankly, he didn't need to as much as certain others) and yes a good chunk of his screentime was comedy relief, but he's just so loveable. After s1 he was my third favorite and I think that's still the case. Also, the thing with him and Dave HURT like damn haven't we and Klaus suffered enough already in season 1? I get it, none of the siblings get to have successful and lasting relationships, it's almost a joke by now, but that doesn't mean Klaus needs to suffer even more. But also good on him for managing to be slightly less intoxicated overall!! So uh yeah. My opinion on him hasn't exactly changed so that's all I got but I love him!!! Who doesn't, though, let's be real.
Five: Sort of the same thing as with Klaus. Five is still pretty much the same little, sarcastic shit of a genius and I like him a lot, much like after season 1. Though I was maybe slightly disappointed with his development (or lack thereof) in s2. Last year I talked a bit about how I wanted him to grow as a person and learn that it's ok to feel things, now that he wasn't alone anymore. I wanted him to start accepting that he doesn't need to do everything alone anymore and that it's ok to rely on his family, much like Diego in his development. We didn't get all that much of it in s2 but I suppose it's also nothing that should be rushed, not with a character like him. I did however see improvement in the way that he was more open admitting that these people are his family and that he would do anything in order to save them. Despite calling them all kinds of insults and not always being particularly nice because that's just the way he is, it definitely became more apparent that he cares about them and I like that. A scene I found particularly interesting was Five saying that "he was done with the killing" to the Handler after the board massacre. He only did this for his family. To save them. Cold-hearted assassin Five doesn't want to kill anymore. It really does emphasize that he is human after all and that he does have feelings no matter how hard he pretends he doesn't. Furthermore, the scenes where he was around his other self showing that even he wasn't always super composed and everything. Let Five learn to be human again!!!
Ben: ...do I really have to do this? I think I'll cry talking about him. Oh well. After I had watched season 1 twice, I came to the conclusion that he was my 2nd favorite. This is still and perhaps even more so the case now. I always adored the way he's so incredibly kind and caring. And I like the way that in s2 they put more emphasis on how frustrating it often was for him to be stuck like this not being able to do anything and seeing the only person he can interact with throw his life away like that. When the siblings had all reunited again and Ben said to himself "I missed you all...so much." That shit made me weep. He cares about his siblings so much :( His little crush on Jill was so cute too, like, aww. And!!!! Klaus eventually allowing him to possess his body for a while. The way he took in every smell and every feeling for the first time after so long...I loved that. It's what he deserved. As well as the scene he had with Jill AND ALSO THANK YOU DIEGO FOR HUGGING "BEN" THAT WAS SO PRECIOUS AND AHH!!! So uh yeah. I LOVED all about that part so much. And then...oh. my. God. The first and I think only scene in season 2 that genuinely made me bawl my eyes out. Like for real. Not even kidding. BEN LITERALLY SAVED THE GODDAMN WORLD!!!!!!!! HE DID IT AND HE DID IT ALL BY HIMSELF. HIM! HE! BEN HARGREEVES! The way he comforted Vanya and told her that she wasn't a monster at all was just so beautiful and, for one last time, once again emphasized just how caring and kind he is. When he asked for a hug...that's when I just could not anymore. I'm tearing up thinking about it. He deserved that hug so, so much. I'm glad he was no longer afraid of the light and ready to pass on, literally saving the world in the process. I'm so endlessly proud of him, you don't even know. If anyone owned this season, it was him. Just like that.
Vanya: my opinion on her has somehow changed a lot yet not at all at the same time. How that works? I don't even know. I was feeling mostly neutral about her after season 1 and I still do? First things first- Memory loss is an absolutely turn-off for me most of the time. I'm not sure why but it's just a trope that annoys me to no end. In this case I didn't find it annoying at all though? Sure, it was kind of a cheap way to avoid Vanya having to deal with the aftermath of what happened in s1 while being stranded in Dallas alone a few decades into the past, but I thought it worked pretty well. The road to her regaining her memory was interesting too. Overall she's just not really my type of character? She just doesn't catch my attention that easily but I thought she was written REALLY well this season and I liked her development. Specifically her learning to come to terms with who she really is and also learning to control her ability and use it to protect the people she cares about. Also.. the wlw serve....god thank you so much YES. Ahem. Yah. Overall not a favorite but I like her too!!
And that's what I think was really good about season 2. It made me genuinely like all of them. I left season 1 not really thinking all that highly of ike 3 of them but now I do find all of them really likeable! And that's great, honestly. So yeah! That's it. Maybe I'll talk about the other s2 relevant characters at some point, who knows!
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albapuella · 3 years
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2020 Summary of Art
Well, I can't do the traditional "Art of the Year" summary thing since I'm not a visual artist, but I figured, why not do something similar with my writing? A paragraph I worked on or posted during each month. January: Time isn't the only problem, of course, or even the main one. Your powers of telekinesis are pitiful, too—the only thing saving you out on the field currently is your, admittedly, impressive physical strength, but you can't depend on that forever. The best Pushers don't rely on pure brute strength like you do. How can you ever hope to reach the level of your hero, Xultan Matzos, without the mental powers to match? February: It was his picture. That was Ciel's first thought. Then he realized it couldn't be him—the boy in the picture was older, yes, but what drew Ciel's attention was the boy's eyes: both were visible and clear. Which was impossible—the contract showed up in photos, and he was bound to Sebastian until the demon consumed his soul. Looking closer, peering over Dipper's shoulder, Ciel noticed something far more alarming: the part in the boy's hair was opposite to his own. March: Motherfuckin’ paydirt. “He better be happy to see me,” you say, although it’s hard to say whether he actually will be or not. You two are bros, and you get along fairly well when you’re both not going out of your ways to be dicks to each other (ironically!), but he can be unpredictable. You know he isn’t going to like how much danger you’ve put yourself in for his sake. His poor self-hating heart just can’t accept that other people actually give a damn about him. It’d make you cry if you weren’t such a stone cold bad ass. “Where is he?” April: Klink wasn’t sure if he was more amused by this display or infuriated. That the American could sit there and say such ridiculous things with a straight face... Either Hogan was being fanatically naïve, or he thought that Klink was fantastically stupid. His hand clenched around the damp handkerchief. More likely than not, it was the latter. He didn’t know why the thought stung so much—it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. “Victory?” he echoed, allowing Hogan to hear his scorn for the notion. “You think this,” he threw his hand out to indicate the space around himself, “is a victory?” May: “Well you’re looking older and dumber,” Karkat returned hotly. He didn’t turn his back on the adult human, but he backed up to the door. “You’re not my Dave, and I’m not the Karkat you know, so this must be paradox space fucking with me once again, because the universe loves nothing more than shitting on Karkat Vantas.” June: When Karkat pulls down his pants, Dave finds all thoughts of heat stroke leaving his mind. What the hell... It's a fucking tentacle. It's all Dave can do not to break down in hysterical laughter. Oh God. He gets it: this is a hentai. His life has become a fucking anime. Karkat is the eldritch horror, and he is the Japanese school girl about to get tentacle fucked within an inch of her life. This is his fate. July: "yea like we're peak middle school up in here passing notes to each other," Dave is clearly gearing up for a ramble, and Karkat smiles despite himself, "do you like me or like like me but weve got to keep it on the downlow so the teacher doesnt notice and find our note because our reps will never survive if she reads it to the class and she will because thats how teachers roll" August: Dave is still frowning into the mirror, his hands coming up to trace the lines on his chest. He's muscular, but in a wiry way. Trim like Karkat isn't. Pale in a way that begs for a tan. He's beautiful. Karkat has thought this before, but seeing him like this makes the thought rise up again: Dave is beautiful even if he's glaring at himself in a way which reminds Karkat uncomfortably of similar looks Karkat has directed towards a mirror more than once. September: “That’s not how you say those?” He shrugged, watching with barely contained glee as Karkat’s face darkened. “It’s like I told you, Kitbit, I don’t do that boujee shit.” And now, for the piece of resistance: “I’m just here puttin' in the time, spittin' my rhymes. You know I do this on a dime. It ain't work for me; it's play the way the insults fly, leavin' you with l'esprit de l'escalier when I say goodbye.” Then he lifted up his glasses and winked, enjoying the view of Karkat realizing he’d been being played in full color. October: Karkat’s head is pounding from all the thinking he’s had to do to learn Davuh’s words, but it’s a good pain--the kind of pain that means something is growing stronger. He enjoys the warmth of the human next to him, feeling drowsy. He doesn’t always sleep well… he rarely sleeps well. But it’s different with Davuh there. There’s something in his belly, his head aches, and Davuh is warm. November: It was… Xefros doesn’t have the words to describe it. Joey, going around, treating trolls like… like they were the same as her. Like they would just return her kindness and trust because she gave it to them first. Kind of incredible how often she was right. And then she was wrong. Very wrong. December: “No!” The boy’s anger should be frightening what with his sharp teeth prominently displayed in a snarl, but the combination of the drying, cracking green slime coating and the pure offense in his tone makes his posturing more funny than threatening. “No, you don’t get to break into my hive, drag me out of my recuperacoon, feel me up, make weird ass concuspiant passes at me, *and* tell me I need to *chill*! I am the perfectly sane amount of chill for this situation!” Homestuck features pretty heavily this year :D
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cosmicroadkill · 4 years
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In which I rant about Homestuck and Girls
I don’t hate the girls in Homestuck but I do hate how the fandom and even the source material handles them. I cannot stand how Nepeta is often reduced to this cutesy little girl who needs Equius to hold her hand, how Aradia’s personality is basically just straight-up ignored, or how Kanaya is sometimes either made the Mom Friend for gags or the Sexy Lesbian Vampire as if she has no other traits. I hate how Terezi and Feferi are treated like they did nothing wrong, as if Terezi didn’t get John KILLED on one timeline, and Fef’s ideals weren’t thinly veiled/rose-colored castism, and don’t even get me STARTED on Vriska.
I want to like Vriska, not only because I’m a Scorpio but because for the most part, she really is a badass, but she’s also a giant fucking bitch who never really faces the consequences of her actions. The closest we get is Tavros telling her off towards the end and even that is mild compared to her: Paralyzing him under the claims of making him stronger Murdering him later  Making Sollux murder Aradia  Blinding Terezi  Using John to one-up Terezi (which Terezi also did with Dave which is kinda fucked on both their parts, like wtf) 
True, she feels genuine remorse for killing Tavros but that doesn’t stop her from treating him like shit in the afterlife. And after all of this she STILL gets to be the hero of the story, she STILL gets to be the one thing that basically fixes the timeline, she ultimately gets what she wants and I hate it.  
And then there’s Terezi; cool, cooky, I love her scalemates and her serious knowledge about Alternian law and loyalty to her friends but the way she (and Kanaya for that matter) lets herself get wrapped up in Vriska’s bullshit is so, ugh! Like I pointed out, her whole thing with Dave started out as a competition between her and Vriska (I think she even says as much? I’d have to go back and check) which is shitty because she literally fucking uses Dave’s own insecurities when it comes to John to push him forward at her pace. Granted, both her and Vris kinda ease up and turn it into a friendship with their respective humans but that doesn’t exactly excuse the behavior. (I’m not too happy that they both lead into relationships the more I think about it, even if they both eventually fell through. That’s just, that’s not a good way to start a relationship).
There’s already a comprehensive post about Feferi’s shit/possible shit.
And then you have Kanaya, Nepeta, and Aradia who basically get their personalities fuckin neutered by a good portion of the fandom. While the Mom Friend jokes can be funny with Kan, its overplay and kinda tiring though admittedly preferable to Diva persona I saw a lot of people give her in early fandom, and anyone who makes Nepeta into a weak, baby owo girl who needs Equius to protect her is gonna catch these hands because Nep has proved to be one of the strongest and most capable of the trolls; fucking Equius would take out your kneecaps if he heard you talking about her that way. And Aradia? Like shit, it's like some of y’all just completely ignored her after she godtiered. (I know her personality was present before that but after is when she really shined) She’s funky and weird and kinda creepy and I wish more people would like be into that you know? Like I wish she and Jake and Dave could have been friends because you know those three would have gotten into so much trouble together.
Which leads to the human girls and gods do I wanna scream. Rose’s more “dorky” interests like writing wizard stories, gaming (as she was the most excited of the four for sburb if memory serves me) are often ignored in favor of playing her off as the “cool gof GF”. She’s not cool, none of the Strilonds are actually cool in the common sense of the words, they’re all fucking dorks. She literally psychoanalysis her friends for fun and spends a whole page (2 pages?) butchering sports with Dave. 
Jade, I found, was often dumbed down to the ditzy “blond” friend for a while, though I’m not sure if that still pervades her tag or not, but I have another beef with her that I’ll get to in a second. 
Roxy is often toted as the end all be all of NonProblematic Kids when they have Emotionally Abused Dirk  Almost killed Jane  Acted like Jake was stupid (then again, most of his friends did)  That’s not to say Roxy doesn’t TRY; they’re very aware of the harm they’ve caused to their friends and actively try to do better but that, like Terezi, that doesn’t mean you just get to ignore the shit they did. 
And Jane, Christ, Jane. She gets kicked by the majority of the fandom and even her friends and few times but the moment she claps back or makes a mistake (like telling Roxy she liked them better when they were drunk), she gets dunked on by what feels like everyone and their mother. Yes, Jane can be shitty at times but considering  Her crush basically manipulated her into the friendzone and then nonstop talked about his boyfriend problems for months (including on her OWN BIRTHDAY)  She was fatshamed and sexually harrassed(?) by Caliborn Roxy blew up her computer which could have killed her  Everything in general just going to shit Can you really blame her? Granted that doesn’t mean she should get away with the horrible things she’s said/done either like the aforementioned Roxy convo or, at least to some extent, her threats of sexual slavery against Jake. 
Which brings me to my big issue I mentioned with Jade; What’s with the human girls getting their agency stolen? Grimdark/bark, Trickster, Crockertier?? Like seriously, wtf?? Granted, Trickster happened to all the alpha kids and they were mostly aware so that one’s a little grasping for straws but the others? Like wtf man???
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theorynexus · 4 years
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44, I suppose~
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***cocks my head curiously***
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***snickers***    Indeed, it would seem that the Narrator still views themselves as being Dirk Strider. I wonder if that means that I theoretically should refer to them as such.   ... Nah.  As for the content of the above statement:  Yeah, Dave has always been sortof awkward and insecure about sexual stuff.
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Wow, he really is making that even more awkward, somehow.   (On the random:  I am not sure I agree with the Narrator’s comment about “flippant xenophobia,” earlier.)
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!    Cut off, mid-sentence. That doesn’t happen that often in Homestuck, if memory serves. This must be a momentous occasion.  ***is quite curious where this is going***
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Oh. I was under the impression that the Mother Grub was already up and running, and had been for a while. ***scratches my head***      If not... okay. If so, that is something of a weird wording on Karkat’s part. That said:  It strikes me as a little inaccurate to suggest that it is the rebirth, regardless, insofar as ectobiology had produced numerous trolls before this point, and all that a couple of them had to do to have a child together presumably would be to go to a government office and make a deal to ensure that they were cloned.  Of course that is extremely awkward, and “unnatural,” so I definitely understand his feelings.  Additionally, one could say that the Mother Grub’s integral part in their species’ life cycles and the random nature of normal troll breeding could imply that taking away that part of the process makes for “impure” or “incomplete” Trolldom.   (The fact that the Trolls that aided in the creation of this universe and the development of its planet were all ecto-babies makes such thoughts/assessments somewhat awkward, though.)    It’s somewhat weird that this is coming up in relation to unfertilized jelly, too. Random thought, before we proceed:  Dave being able to time travel could mean that they’re actually living out/watching the moment the Mother Grub either was born or began breeding out trolls, even if they didn’t arrive to see it happen the first time, though. Hmm.
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Hahaaa!~       Being over-sensitive about something that is admittedly disgusting for both parties makes for good comedy.  Very awkward, but also very silly and humourous comedy.
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Especially in the context of what was said immediately afterward.
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The awkwardness just keeps getting better.
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What is this, Act 1?!   XD   Oh my fricking gosh!
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I love this running gag.
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Wow, Karkat, that’s Rose’s wife you’re getting that hate-on for, try to ease up a little.    In all honesty, though:  Yeah, it’s fine that they didn’t foresee certain social consequences of their decision to abandon their creations for thousands of years for the sake of not having to deal with waiting for civilization to properly bloom or whatever, themselves.  On the other hand:  Why didn’t Dave and/or John help out by bringing the group strategically back at certain points in history in order to guide them to a future more suited to their desires/designs? Did the group just have an argument that ended in them all deciding it was better not to do something like that at all if they couldn’t agree what to change?  Or was it that they just thought everything was good enough, initially, and no such conversation/options were considered?    ***shrugs***   The denomination of 5,000 years in particular is a little bit odd, honestly.  I would have thought it personally more prudent to make multiple time jumps rather than a single one, and to use them to exert more careful control over things, thereby,  but I don’t know.   I’m not them, and they were all teens at the time. Maybe by the point that they’d grown up enough to figure out the consequences of their earlier decisions/indecisions, some of them had grown too attached to the world to think that was a good idea.      (Also: This could all be a result of Terezi not being there~)
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This is a very cute and wonderful dynamic, they have, here.  It reminds me of the one that their Ancestors were said to have had~
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It is very interesting to see the Narrator making things so personal, in contrast to the narration we’ve had previously throughout most of the story~   Especially with petty, short-sighted thoughts like the “which is why I’m going to win” thrown in there to highlight how flawed the new Narrator is as a person, which provides an amusing contrast to the detached, omniscient style of narration in many other stories.
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Heh. Pretty funny in the context of her walking over and tapping on the Mother Grub.
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Indeed, that is a very strange and somewhat ominous gift horse.    I do wonder if the Board already exists, or if she’s planning on making it.  Earlier indications, especially considering her statement/thought suggesting trolls should not be in charge of their reproductive future, would point to it being something that she’s intending to make, rather than the alternative, as would Kanaya’s  quotation marks, and Karkat’s outrage.
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To be fair, humans did not have an interstellar empire which presumably meant that they were in direct conflict with and the habit of exterminating other competing species in the universe. On the other hand, human history of bigotry and genocide does suggest that if humans had had the opportunity/had been given that long to develop, this would have actually been something that might have happened with them too.  As such, I think that Karkat’s allusory objection is well-founded.
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No. No, it is not. (Does “abdominal hole” refer to the navel, or something a little lower?)   Karkat’s point still does stand, however. While I would not necessarily concur with Kanaya’s categorization of the nomenclature as “thoughtless,” I would indeed agree that it is callous, and somewhat “un-masked,” as Karkat would suggest.  The somewhat sad thing is that Jane probably didn’t realize how insulting she was by coming to Kanaya and making such a suggestion, regardless of the clear attempt to at least seem conciliatory, on her part.
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***laughs hysterically, even though I probably should not, and proceeds to end this post here, since it is probably a good stopping point***
2 notes · View notes
missfinefeather · 5 years
Text
missfinefeather
This was uploaded 9 months ago: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFfCCyb2Wio
wakraya
That's VERY spoilers!
wakraya
But also you will be able to see it in a week or two
wakraya
Which is to say
You're getting closer by the day to the End >:3
missfinefeather
I am a little nervous about it tbh xD
wakraya
Any thoughts as it approaches slowly? Theories? Expectations?
missfinefeather
Oh, I was more nervous about the state of the blog after Homestuck. xD But I can ponder that for a bit
wakraya
Oh! We'll be still there >:p We like your reactions
And Homestuck has a... Special way of coloring your expectations for other shows.
See: Minda bringing up Homestuck refs in Adventure Time or Steven Universe as often as you bring up MLP
So even the ones mostly interested in Homestuck will still wanna stay ;3
missfinefeather
I hope so. Admittedly, I've been in situations where I've developed a really small following and they just kind of disappear as soon as I change subjects.
Then again, I guess this isn't the same, considering I'm going to accomplish a rare feat...
wakraya
Even if the audience does fall a little bit afterwards, Livebloggers have a tendency of popping up
And indeed, you'll go into the annals of Homestuck History as one of the few to have liveblogged the entirety of Homestuck up to the end!
missfinefeather
That's... kind of surreal to think about.
Especially if I finish in March. That would mean I completed Homestuck in 10 months
wakraya
Now that really is a feat for a Liveblogger.
You're faaaast.
That's quite the appealing thing too with you and liveblogs :o
When you liveblog something you're into, you tend to post often and go fast while also catching quite a lot of things.
missfinefeather
Like, my readers would be like "Did you know Missfinefeather completed a  Homestuck liveblog in 10 months?" and the other person would be like "Who the heck is Missfinefeather?" xDDD
wakraya
You don't give yourself enough credit X3 I believe one of the WP Team actually mentioned you at one point didn't they?
missfinefeather
Not by name xD they really liked my "Cutie mark" joke
missfinefeather
Okay, on to theories! Well, I'm pretty certain John, Rose, Jade, and Dave are going to come out of the house thing when ghost Vriska and Meenah use it
missfinefeather
And the four of them are going to take down Lord English with Dave dealing the final blow with the sword I guess.
missfinefeather
For the oncoming battle... ummmm... not sure how that's going to go better for our heroes xD I mean, if only Jade were awake
And not evil
wakraya
:3
missfinefeather
Like, we have the two dogs, Jack English, Spade Slick, and the Condense. I still think the Condense is going to wind up on Beta Earth trying to prevent John and Jade's births. The other threats, let's just hope some of them take each other out.
wakraya
Interesting lineup :3
missfinefeather
I think the Condense is going to have some sort of injury that'll take her out in a number of decades and that's why she disappears in the beta timeline. Just spends her final days trying to undo her fate.
Vriska is going to jump around the timeline, doing more than just prototyping, but still miss the battle entirely.
PM takes the ring off at some point and reunites with WV. That would be cute!
Karkat and Dave better share an on screen kiss, so help me gog!
wakraya
X3
missfinefeather
Sorry, it's just my gay brothers from the other side of the tracks only has a decapitated head smooching to keep them going
Actually, all canon pairings get an additional 1 or 2 smooches. That would be nice...
wakraya
Two decapitated head smooches, if you count Gamzee and Tavros.
missfinefeather
Oh yeah...
wakraya
That's why DaveKat is a breath of fresh air honestly X3 It's really... Cute.
wakraya
Non-beheady
missfinefeather
Yeah xD
...For now...
wakraya
>:3c
missfinefeather
John might need to retcon certain parts of the fight with Lord English. Still sticking with Slick's comment about time shenanigans being important in defeating him.
missfinefeather
Con Air needs to be referenced again at some point
We've been left hanging for too long
wakraya
PFT
missfinefeather
Not sure where Roxy is going to wind up romantically. Roxygen is cute, but I'm getting the feeling we are going to get a swerve there
And Roxy could turn out to be polygamous, though I would be surprised!
wakraya
I want you to know I'm keeping these predictions in a document and noting down how close you are or aren't with them to show you after the end >:3
missfinefeather
Again, I can't think of too many stories that end in a polygamous relationship xD I mean, I don't think even any of the trolls have their quadrants filled in the non-platonic area
Wait, really?
How long have you done that? xDD
*been doing
wakraya
Started right now as you were saying these X3
missfinefeather
Oh xDDD
And I meant, more than one quadrant
wakraya
Ye :3
missfinefeather
So we don't even have an example of polygamy from the polygamous race at this point in the story
wakraya
Then again we don't really have that many RELATIONSHIPS period.
missfinefeather
True...
Davekat, Rosemary, got both a possible Roxygen and a possible Jerezi
I would be endlessly amused if John is the first example of both non-platonic quadrants being filled xDD
wakraya
Hehe
missfinefeather
Seeing as both his suitors are definitely interested
...still anticipating Roxy being snatched up romantically by someone though
Like Jane wakes up and immediately makes out with Roxy or something
He did warn us that it was going to get gayer
wakraya
Hehe. Honestly I have been having nostalgia for the HS end for a bit now. It's gonna be good when you get there.
missfinefeather
^^
wakraya
What a journey.
missfinefeather
I know, right? Gosh! Feels longer!
wakraya
*Hug!*
missfinefeather
*hugs* ^^
missfinefeather
Now watch, Hussie is just goimg to dump 2000 ne pages in one day xD
missfinefeather
Like, a day after I finish or something, lol
wakraya
Honestly... There's a big chance we get Epilogue news/stuff this 4/13
missfinefeather
Yeah, I’m suspecting 4/13, too. You just never know with Hussie though
wakraya
Only a matter of waiting!
missfinefeather
Hussie heard about me through that tweet, and he’s waiting for the day after I finish to unleash it as revenge
wakraya
PFT
missfinefeather
because he can’t unsee Cutie Marks
wakraya
Dirk's Hella Jeff Tattoo is just his Cutie Mark
missfinefeather
Yeesh, i don’t want to know what his cutie mark is telling him
wakraya
X3
missfinefeather
I need to put up the poll for the next liveblog soon
Getting to that point
wakraya
Yeah :o
missfinefeather
Hmmm, do you intend to stay on as my screener? I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to watch everything I watch, probably just redirect non-homestuck question somewhere else...
wakraya
I intended staying as your screener or at least trying!
missfinefeather
^^
I’m glad <3
wakraya
And even if you got to stuff I didn't know about and you wanted another screener
I'd still be around at the very least >:3
missfinefeather
You’re welcome in my chatbox anytime!
missfinefeather
Honestly, your friendship is probably the best thing I’ve gotten out of Homestuck, and that’s saying a lot!
wakraya
<>!
missfinefeather
<> ^^
Pale side bitch for life!
missfinefeather
Hehehe
wakraya
>:3
You're a great friend, and as much as I enjoy your liveblog itself
It's true! Just being able to chat with you is probably the best part of being your screener!
missfinefeather
Awww :D
You’re the best!
wakraya
And some day, maybe we'll meet at a convention and we'll go as a Heir of Light and a Seer of Doom! >:3
missfinefeather
That would be epic! >:D
wakraya
And that'll be when we've been a while on T
>.3c
missfinefeather
Hehe, of course! ^^ A pair of homestuck ladies rocking whatever convention we wind up in!
wakraya
Hehehe
missfinefeather
Hopefully I'll be more open by then xD
wakraya
Mhmm!
wakraya
Good night tho! :D Ni!
missfinefeather
Good night! ^^
(Note: Wakraya already has a moirail, hence why I’m a pale side bitch xDDD)
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creative-frequency · 6 years
Text
Connor|RK800 x Reader: Ocularity Ch. 2
Word count: 2565 Warnings/Categories: Rating up to explicit, romance, friendship, fluff, light angst, bad language, uncle Hank Summary: As a doctor of artificial intelligence engineering working for CyberLife, you’re tasked with the initialization of the new RK-series prototype. Notes: Probably will fail, but I’ll try to post a chapter every week and keep them around 2k long. Special thanks to @sevansheart​ and @sherniwrites​ for the translations ❤️ I hope you enjoy reading this!
Previous Chapter | Chapters Masterlist
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From: Ethan Wilson To: You Subject: Fw: RK800
Good luck. Make us proud.
- Ethan
----------------
Dear Dr. Wilson,
We are pleased to inform you that we have chosen Dr. Anderson to manage the initiation of the new RK800-model. Mark I will be assembled on August 15th at 8:00 AM.
This decision was reached thanks to your high recommendations as her direct superior and the satisfied feedback from our clients concerning her work. We look forward to following her co-operation with the new prototype.
Please forward this information to Dr. Anderson.
Sincerely,
––
The message content is followed by the full list of CyberLife’s board members. You have read the e-mail over and over at least fifteen times and still can’t believe it’s true.
The new RK-model – the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever created – is about to become your responsibility.
August 15th 08:22 AM
You stifle a yawn and fold your hands over your chest in a sorry attempt at warming yourself. The mornings haven’t grown cool yet, but thanks to the effective air conditioning inside, you shiver slightly. You ran out of tea several minutes ago and its heating effect is fading. Slow minutes pass by in silence.
The operator sits in the only chair of the brightly lit monitoring room. His name is Dave, or Daniel, or something similar. You think you have met him before, but working for one of the largest companies on the continent means you have a countless amount of colleagues just on Belle Isle. There are at least three Daves working for CyberLife you can remember off the top of your head.
The operator’s eyes are trained on the camera feed of the assembly line right ahead. At each weave and tiny motion of his fingers, the large robot hands move, inch by inch, piece by piece, fitting cutting-edge tech biocomponents inside a male android’s torso. Manufacturing a new android model requires precision. The biocomponents are often not as easily fitted into the frame as in the mass-produced models.
You can see the white 3D-printed limbs dangling in the air, waiting to be attached. It has been over twenty minutes already and you don’t dare to ask how the operator is doing or how long it will still take.
Admittedly, you are impatient. The opportunity is amazing. Until now you have been only working with existing prototypes, mostly of the RK-series. You have been present at many initialization tests, but have never been given the responsibility of taking the lead in one.
The RK800 is the most interesting prototype you have come across so far as it’s designed for police work – not just as an unarmed guard or patrol android, but as the first line response to human life-threatening situations. The list of features and abilities is certainly the most impressive one you’ve seen in a prototype before.
So impressive that you fell asleep halfway through reading it and decided to get to know the prototype in person instead of on paper.
The datapad containing the planned testing schedule is tucked under your arm. The file is ridiculously long and exhaustive, but that only shows how much expectations are piled on the new model, and on you by extension.
“Almost there…”
Your weight shifts carefully from left to right leg. If there would be any other noise than the low buzzing of the assembly robot, you wouldn’t hear the operator mumbling to himself. You have to admire his focus on the delicate task.
A small eternity later, the blue glow inside the android’s torso starts pulsing steadily, the eyes in the white skull flicker. The synthetic heart, the Thirium pump, is spreading life force into the other biocomponents and the prototype slowly starts to wake up.
“Alright. You can talk to it now,” the operator says.
You hum in reply, looking with indefinite fascination as the pure white limbs are carefully snapped into their sockets. They instantly take to action, move around in the air and execute the built-in proprioceptive tests while the assembly robot is still welding the seams.
“Can you hear me?” you ask in a clear voice.
The android’s eyes, that turn out to be milk chocolate brown, blink a few times.
“Yes.”
Skin starts to grow from his temples, revealing a light tone, and quickly grows into short dark brown hair. It’s the first time you see the prototype’s design and there is only one thought running through your mind.
He is beautiful.
You’re so taken aback by the sight that you completely forget the follow-up question you were about to voice.
It’s as if someone hacked your mind and sculpted the face of your deepest fantasies. He is the definition of “your type” and you simply can’t find enough shame to deny it from yourself. Each curve of his features is perfect. He is perfect. Your heart rate is increasing and with each beat it’s becoming increasingly difficult to pass it off as excitement from the new assignment.
No one has ever before crossed the uncanny valley of your mind in such a leap.
The android spreads his arms in a more controlled motion, looking around the shiny new limbs that are gradually covering with artificial skin mask, and waits for instructions.
“State your model and run a diagnostic,” the operator says.
“Model RK800, serial number 313 248 317 – 51.” The android’s eyes flicker closed for a second and his LED flashes in blue. “All systems fully operational.” His voice is calm, pleasant. Maybe even a little husky due to the new voice module being activated for the first time.
“RK800, register your name.”
The operator looks at you expectantly. You spend a few seconds inspecting the android before choosing from the options you’ve been given.
“Connor.”
“My name is Connor,” the android repeats, just like you’ve heard hundreds of them say in their exact same moment. Hearing him say the name you chose feels a little funny.
The skin is covering all of his body now and Connor steps forward from the podium. The robot hands usher clothes on him: A basic white outfit with the statutory blue armband and triangle markings on the chest and back. Unlike many other models, Connor seems extremely curious of his surroundings. You make a mental note to write that down into your first report about the prototype.
The operator turns to you with a lopsided smile. Today, his job is easy.
“All yours, Doc.”
You huff in amusement and lower your fist that you have been leaning your chin on. The guys in manufacturing see you rarely, but when you come by, it always means something new is going on and someone will take the reins as soon as the unit is assembled.
“Thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
You exit the monitoring room with your heels clattering against the smooth marble flooring and an eager thumping inside your chest.
Your first task is to run simple tests to make sure the model is viable for operation and nothing went wrong in the assembly. You’ve seen your coworkers and superiors go through the required procedures so many times you’ve lost count. It’s a routine for all new prototypes. For the past two years you have worked for CyberLife, the amount of errors in prototypes has gone down exponentially, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Noticing errors in as early stage as possible saves time and money.
“Hello, Connor,” you greet the android. Your gaze travels to the distracting lock of hair on his forehead, then down the jawline before returning to the brown eyes. Why does he have to be so handsome? Does a detective android need good looks to perform his job efficiently?
You will probably find out.
“Hello,” Connor replies in the standard friendly tone.
You clear your throat and give him a few seconds to scan you as it should be a standard procedure for him with new people. You pull the datapad from under your arm.
“Do you know who I am?” you ask.
“Yes,” Connor says decisively.
“Do you know who that is?” You nod towards the operator behind the glass. He is yawning and stretching his arms in the air.
“Well we haven’t been introduced, but I do know his name.”
You open the basic test run program and start checking boxes. “Tell me.”
“Dave Atkinson,” Connor starts to speak immediately in an analytical tone. So you did remember correctly. “Born December 21st, 2002. Worked in CyberLife as manufacturing operator since July 2030. No criminal record.”
You smile. “Thank you, Connor.” His name rolls off your tongue in a pleasant way. “Let’s start with the basics.”
Connor’s brows scrunch lightly together and he looks confused. He walks closer to you, to a normal conversing distance. His model and serial number are printed in the white uniform. You’ll need to find more suitable clothes for him for police work.
“Doctor, is there a reason I cannot access the testing schedule file?” Connor sounds worried and his gaze flicks to the datapad in your hands.
“Oh. Well,” you chuckle in surprise, “it’s a tool for me to log your progress. We need to be sure you can’t influence the data directly,” you explain.
Connor nods. “I understand, though I think it would be much more efficient if we both could access the file and deduce together what’s the optimal time for each test.”
“You’re right, but rules are rules.” His insistence makes you smile. The way androids always seem confused when humans don’t want to take the most logical or proficient approach is slightly comical every time you witness it. They adapt to it, of course, but the innocent confusion on their faces is priceless. “Shall we then? We have a lot to do.”
“You want to start from the basics?” Connor sounds incredulous.
You inspect the list on the datapad again. Even the phase one sheet is longer than usually. “Yeah. Protocol, proprioceptive and exteroceptive sensors, components – basic stuff.”
“Doctor, I assure you everything is running perfectly.” He looks dead-serious – as if doing the testing would be a complete waste of time.
“Sorry, but we need to test to make sure, because your diagnostics data could be lying.”
Connor falls silent. He knows you’re right. You know you’re right. It’s time to get the party started, so to speak. You draw a preparing breath and take better hold on the datapad, balancing it on your inner forearm.
“Give me your initialization text,” you say and fix a curious look on Connor. You have the text on the screen.
“Hello, my name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife,” he says.
You wait for him to continue, but he just looks at you expectantly.
“That– that’s it?”
“For security reasons, my protocol dictates I don’t list my features – unless directly ordered so by the human with the authority to do that.”
You look at the text on your screen, then at Connor. He recited the first row correctly, but you’re not happy to hear you haven’t been granted full rights to give him orders. In a testing-sense it might be better, but you decide to bring it up with Ethan later.
“Alright. Then let’s see the basic physical abilities,” you continue and try to not let the minor inconvenience trouble you further. “Can you move your arms?”
As an example, you slowly move your free hand in front of you, then up and down, and reach behind while standing still. Connor’s eyes are fixated on you while he repeats the motions. Suddenly you feel very conscious of yourself, silly even. You’ve done the tests with other androids countless times to check their physique and nerve connections, but now your heart is speeding and the curious brown eyes make you want to look bashfully away.
“Upper limb connection seems fine…” You check a box in the datapad. “Walk around a little, please.”
Connor does as he is asked. His legs seem to work normally with no weird twitching or missteps in the walking pattern. He even spins around on his toes a few times, making you huff in amusement. He smiles at the sounds you make and your heart is speeding again.
“Okay then, repeat these hand gestures after me, please.”
Connor stands at the exact same distance from you as before, but it feels like he is closer.
You make different gestures with your fingers, crossing and bending them in random order and stare at Connor’s hand. He mimics each motion quickly and accurately. The movement is flawless and fluid, just as it should be.
“Okay, good. Tell me, which one’s your right hand?” you ask.
Connor smiles in surprise and raises his right arm. “Is this really necessary, Doctor?”
“Yup. Locomotion and kinesthetic awareness – alright.” You tick more boxes in the list. If Connor continues to clear each test as quickly as he has, you’ll be done with phase one within the week.
You check the data feed from his vitals and it’s looking steady. There are no signs of his skin mask coming apart and the hair length hasn’t changed after the initial growth. Everything is looking good. He is looking good. You push the improper thoughts about to surface to the back of your mind and focus on the list again.
“Please say ‘Hello, my name is Connor. How can I help you?’ in Spanish.”
“Hola, me llamo Connor. ¿Cómo le puedo ayudar?” Connor says. According to his list of features, he speaks almost five hundred languages.
“How about in… Hindi?”
You don’t speak Spanish or Hindi, but the datapad records the lines to double-check later for potential errors.
“Namaste, mere nam Connor hai. Mein aapakee Kaise madad Kar sakata hoon?”
“Finnish?”
“Hei, nimeni on Connor. Kuinka voin auttaa?”
“Multilingual and verbal expression – checked,” you say as you tick the boxes. Connor’s voice module is working without flaws, at least to your ears. “What was the first thing I said to you?”
Connor tilts his head in question. “I believe it was ’Connor’, but I cannot be sure it was your voice as my systems were not fully operational at that point yet.”
“It was me.” You flash him an encouraging smile. “So what was the first question I asked you?”
“You asked ‘do you know who I am?’” he says without hesitation.
“Your memory components seem to be working fine so far,” you conclude and scroll back on the testing list to be sure you didn’t skip over anything by accident. You’re satisfied to see there was nothing to be marked as “tentative” or “limited functionality”.
“So everything is in order?” Connor asks, pleased with his performance.
“Yes, but before we move on, please run a diagnostic,” you say.
Connor nods. His LED flashes blue and his eyelids flicker for only a few seconds. “All systems fully operational,” he announces.
Hopefully, you will hear those words countless times in the near future.
You tuck the datapad securely under your arm and smile at the android in front of you. Your journey together is off to a good start and you’re eager to see how it continues. Your first prototype initialization. A speck of pride grows within your chest. It will take a minimum of two months to complete the testing schedule with Connor.
You grin. “We can move on to the actual testing now. Follow me, Connor.”
Next Chapter
Tagging (lmk if you want to be tagged or not): @sevansheart @precursor-ao3 @gberryb​ @owlwrites @lucianhuntress@singlebecauseofthechocobros @bleucommelhiver @sherniwrites @n-ulll @mccastle-boi @toastyfiction @touzokukana @imaginovator
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backwardmaptravels · 6 years
Text
What I wish I'd known
When ‘backwardmaptravels’ first asked me to write a post for this blog, I’ll be honest I was at a loss for what to write. Tips for fellow travellers and retellings of an adventure seems like an easy ask, but when you’ve lived a crazy life like me it all gets a little muddled. And when I say 'crazy’ I truly mean that.
As I sit here writings this I still don’t quite know what story I want to tell. Admittedly, I was asked for this months ago, but as is often the case, life gets in the way of interests and passions and loves. Anyways, the clocks a-ticking and there’s only so long I can put this off for so here we go…
There’s endless websites out there that can give you Top Tips For Your Holiday, and no one could ever accuse me of being boring, so my tips are slightly different. Below are five things that I think are essential for all travellers new and old, things I wish I had written down before I even set off on my first trip to the village hall.
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  1. Follow Your Interests
This may seem like a boring mundane ‘duh’ one, but you’d be surprised how many people do things because “oh everyone else does this so we must too!!” There’s no point going on a travelling holiday to Rome if the extent of your interest in Italy extends to Caesar and Brutus’ contribution to memes.
I was adamant that I wanted to go interrailing around Europe. For each city we would visit I had laid out places I definitely wanted to visit. You have to be reasonable and realise that you’re not going to be able to walk 50,000 steps and see 10 different things each day - well you might be able to but I would not recommend that. Instead pick your top choices. They don’t even have to be exact things. I wasn’t sure what to expect in Budapest and Prague but I knew I wanted to go there and experience new European cultures, and you know what? They ended up being some of my favourite places.
If you’re like me, and you don’t really mind where you go you just want to travel, then following your interests is pretty easy. For those of you who share my love for globe spinning, then my advice is reasonably simple: do what you love. This is your life to map out (see what I did there) and they’re your adventures to curate. So do what interests you, what fascinates you, what drives you; and do it well. There no point going to 20 places in one month and getting the postcard, when you can spend the same time seeing 8 places and falling in love with each one again and again and again.
So do what you love. Follow what you’re interested in. And don’t forget to slow down once in a while. The world isn’t a race. You can afford to spend a whole day lazing in bed in Rome, because you know what? You may be laying in bed, but it’s a bed in Rome.
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  2. Adapt
To be honest learning to adapt is just good life advice. There’s not enough fingers in the world to count all the times I’ve had to change plans because something just isn’t right, or your mate Dave just never bloody follow through. But the important thing is, no matter how frustrating it is to veer away from what I’m sure is a perfectly scheduled travel plan marked down to the second, sometimes sh*t just happens.
I used to be one of those people who liked structure and planning and detailed documents outlining each and every moment of each day (colour coded of course), but that’s just not practical. You have to go with the flow in this weird changing world.
When we arrived in Rome we had a full week worth of activities and sites to see, only to find out that of course! Of course we arrived the day before a massive festival when Rome’s transport is shut down for the day and the streets are awash with colour, laughing and booze. Our plans to see the colosseum the next day were thwarted but in many ways these bumps only helped our adventures and gave us some new ones. Instead we stayed in our little apartment and got pizza from the tiny pizzeria down the street - what would end up being the best pizza either of us had ever, and probably will ever have - and sat on our little balcony spending peaceful time doing nothing yet everything. We went to the colosseum the next day and it so happened to be one of the few days that you could get in for free. So thank you Rome! Thank you for celebrating you and giving us charming time all the while looking after our diminishing student bank accounts.
So adapt people. It’s important to learn that life isn’t a play-by-play and usually something will go wrong. But if you’re lucky, something else will just go so so right
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  3. Remember Home
This may seem like a silly one. Like somewhat of a wimpy sell-out more than an advice number. But truly this is one of the most important ones to me. The worlds big. It’s scary. And things don’t always go your way. For me, there’s honestly nothing more important on a wild travelling adventure then remembering where you come from, remembering home and all those you left there - especially the cat.
I’m lucky enough to have a really close relationship with my parents. As such, I would always be one to phone home and keep in at least sporadic contact with home. But when you’re travelling across Europe via one-ticket trains it’s even more important. This advice may only seem fitting for younger or new travellers but it’s important for everyone. Trust me, when things get tough and even when your heart fills with joy, you’re going to want to remember home.
Whether it’s accidentally being caught up in a Parisian protest, accidentally ordering an absinthe shot or suddenly struggling to breath in the middle of a Mongolian forest - all of which have happened to me, like I said: crazy life - you’re going to want to remember home.
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  4. Slum It
Look. All those travel instagram blogs and backpacking magazines are filthy liars. Well, okay some of it is true, you will be having the time of your life and you will never believe some of the beauty that makes up the world, but it’s not all exotic food, hammocks in forests and footprints in the sand. Take it from me, at one point on your travels you will find yourself drying clothes with a hair dryer and doing laundry in what might be bleach. Life’s just like that sometimes.
I recently traveled around Europe for a month and I’m amusedly ashamed to admit that on two separate occasions I found myself slumming it and washing clothes in a not quite usual manner. When traveling anywhere for more than two weeks your bound to have to wash clothes and it’s far easier to carry a weeks wardrobe than try to lug around 30 separate outfits all around Europe.  There’s only so many inside-out ways you can wear socks and underwear and shirts before you need to just bite the bullet and accept the reality that the sink is your new best friend.
Rome is a beautiful majestic place, but for some people your travels there will very much boast a highlight of washing clothes in what, to this day, I’m still not convinced isn’t bleach and then fashioning a rather fetching sock drying tower out of an old lamp. These adventures reach their peak the next morning when you need to pack so first you’re just going to have to accept the fact that you’ll be spending the next two hours of your life drying clothes with a dodgy hair dyer.
These laundry adventures will continue throughout your holiday as four cities down the line in Prague you’ll inevitably find yourself washing socks and underwear in the sink while your friend rinses in the bidet. I’ve said this once and unfortunately it’s now my catchphrase: life just be like that sometimes.
So don’t sweat the small stuff. Travelling isn’t glamorous. You will have to wear socks of questionable cleanliness and wash underwear in sinks but I promise you this it’s worth it. When you step out of your falling apart home-for-the-night, you’ll forget about wet socks and third-time-around shirt the second you see the world spilling out at your feet.  
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  5. Trust Yourself!
The most important advice I could ever give you if simple: Trust Yourself. You need to believe that you know more than you think you do. The world is big and scary but it’s also so beautiful and awe-inspiring. By the time you step on your first train, plane, bus, you’ve already done all the leg work. You’ve got yourself this far. You can do it. If travelling is what you want to do then do it, don’t sweat the ins and outs it’ll all work out magically.
It’s important to learn to listen to your gut. I’ve been travelling from a young age but almost always with Mum holding my tickets and Dad navigating the stations. But when I started this whole travelling thing without that parental safety net I was scared, but I also realised that I knew more than I thought.
Trust yourself.
You know how to look after yourself. You know what a train station looks like, a plane isn’t new to you. You know how to stay alive, how to feed yourself, you don’t need someone to change your nappies anymore.
Trust yourself.
Listen to your instinct and don’t go where you’re not comfortable. Go where you want to. See the world explore this crazy planet we live on, But if you feel off, if something feels off, just turn around and walk away - they’ll be an adventure around the next corner.
Trust yourself.
You know what you’re capable of. You know what you’re comfortable with. Don’t be afraid to ask for help but I promise you now you’ll be okay. Don’t be put off pursuing your hopes and dreams because you don’t know if you can do it. You can. I promise you. You’ll be okay.
Trust yourself.
(and find out what ‘exit’ is in each language so you don’t spend your travels trapped in the metro because you don’t know how to get out)
I hope these mis-matched tips gave you all a better view on what it is to be an adventurer, an explorer, a traveller. Top Tips will only get you so far and it’s no use knowing how to budget and whether or not you should get travel insurance (the answer is yes, you most definitely should) if you don’t know what’s coming, what to do when you get there.
So go forth. Embark on each of your individual crazy adventurers. Write down what you do, take pictures of what you see and tell everyone everything that made you laugh, cry, smile. The world is full of wonder and such an amazing place. Travelling is how we see it all.
So just follow your interests, adapt, remember home, don’t be afraid to slum it and in everything you do, all that you see don’t forget to…
Trust yourself
- MiraSophia
( bumblingtravels.tumblr.com )
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Thank you so much @bumblingtravels for submitting this perfectly put travel post. I have said many times that travel isn’t always “Instagram Worthy” and your submission summed up why that isn’t always a bad thing.
Do you have a story worth telling about an adventure you took? Maybe you just have a quick piece of advice that other travelers would like to read. Whatever it may be submit your story here! Happy travels!!
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crazyblondelife · 3 years
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This & That from Bald Head Island - Second Edition
Happy Saturday! Today is our last full day at Bald Head and we’ve had the best time, but I’ll admit that I’m ready to get home and get back into the swing of things! It’s so great to be able to get away, recharge, rest and put some perspective on things! This has truly been an amazing two weeks! I’ve taken long walks with the dogs, spent time on the beach with Baldy, read a book (see below) and eaten some delicious food! Life is good!
Today’s post is a happy post about things for now and for fall that I’m loving and want to share with you! I hope you enjoy and I would love for you to leave a comment at the end if you have something to say!
We’ve had my daughter Sarah’s dog…John Wayne and our dog Amos with us here and they’ve had just as much fun as we have! They’ve both decided they need to sleep with us so the bed has been a little crowded.
This porch is one of my favorite places to be…I love to sit in the rocking chairs and drink coffee and read in the. mornings. I’m almost finished with The Last Thing He Told me by Laura Dave and I’ve really enjoyed reading it! It’s suspenseful and an easy summer read!
I’ve started following several new Instagram accounts that I’m loving and two of them are Every Day Parisian and See My Paris! If you’re dreaming of Paris as I am…these are for you!
Fashion and Beauty
I have a bit of an addiction to having lip balm or lip gloss on my lips and found this lip balm by Jane Iredale! It goes on smoothly, comes in seven colors, contains SPF and is very hydrating! It’s been great to have in my beach bag!
These boots from Marc Fisher are on my wish list for fall! I got the black leather version last season and wore them so often! They’re going to sell out quickly so get them early if you want them!
I’ve admittedly done a little shopping since being on the island and found this cute dress and the Dolce Vita sandals at Island Passage! The colors are perfect for transitioning into fall and I’ll just throw on a pair of booties and a denim jacket for the perfect early fall outfit!
I’ve been obsessing over these shoes from Cult Gaia for a while now and I think they’ll be perfect with white jeans and a denim jacket…
For The Home
I love a candle burning in the house and I’ve recently discovered Paddywax Candles. Paddywax is based in Nashville and makes candles, diffusers, incense, body products and more! I bought the coconut amber scent…it’s beachy and smells delicious!
I have several books by India Hicks and love them all for their inspirational pictures and decor ideas! I’ve just ordered this one and I’m sure it will not disappoint!
Style icon India Hicks's charming take on entertaining, featuring dreamy tablescapes, found centerpieces, and enjoyable family anecdotes. ~ Amazon
Even at the beach in the middle of summer, I like to have blankets around in case I get cold! This cozy one from Serena & Lily is so soft and comes in three colors. Also love this less expensive option!
And a few more things…
For years now, my morning supplement routine has included Welleco Super Elixir, Goop Glow Morning Skin Superpowder, Isogenix Ionix Supreme Adaptogen Powder, and Sakara Life The Foundation Daily Supplement. I was recently sent Dose & Co Collagen Peptides for Hair, Skin and Nails and I’ve been taking that as well. The jury is still out on the collagen, but I definitely like a tablet better than a powder.
Did you know that Williams Sonoma has a blog? If you’re looking for a little entertaining inspiration for your next outdoor gathering, look no further than this post…Seven Easy Party Ideas for a Summe!r Spent Outdoors. Williams Sonoma also has a whole section of their website dedicated to pumpkin food…fall is coming!
This recipe for an Iced Brown Sugar Latte with Shaken Espresso from Half Baked Harvest sounds like the best thing ever!
I’m leaving you with a fabulous recipe for the weekend and a fun boutique with things for fall and for now!
Spicy Garlic Lemon Butter Shrimp with Parmesan Corn Polenta via Half Baked Harvest
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Life Story Part 87
I had these two Uncut magazine subscriptions that had interviews with Ray Davies in them about four years apart, and I often times enjoyed looking through them over and over, and reading the articles, sifting through and memorizing each and every interesting detail I could find, every personal story about The Kinks that I could find. Ray and Dave had an older sister named Renee who had died. In and of itself it held little significance that I shared the name of their beloved older sister, and yet it still meant something to me for some reason. I always wanted to cut the pictures out of my dearly beloved magazines, but wouldn't let myself do it. The Kinks had come to Lewiston Idaho of all places at the bitter end of their career. I had scowered through all their tour dates from that year, and as far as I could see, Lewiston Idaho of all places might have been when the Davies brothers had finally had enough of each other – growing so tired of seeing each other that they split up what was left of The Kinks forever to go solo, to silently go about the business of insulting one another to the media in subtle ways – mostly Dave Davies. When I had found out about The Kinks having played a show in Lewiston, I had my father talk to someone who had worked on their lights in town, an they said that Ray and Dave had been livid and furious at one another. It all seemed so weird to me, but I imagine that some if not all of this was extremely idealistic sign seeking. I mean, what could any of it all really mean. It was a personal coincidence to me alone. To the rest of the world, it was just where it happened to end.
I ended up cutting my hair as Ray Davies had his hair back in the late 60's, with the short bangs and the layered short hair. It was kind of a strange short lived English hair style for men in that very specific time in music. It didn't look the same on me. I knew what I was doing. I had looked at his hair for hours in the pictures I had of him, and when I came out having cut my hair precisely as his hair had been, I pretended that I had done it on accident because I didn't want everyone thinking I was a lunatic. And I was, but I kind of wasn't. Unlike Eugene, I had no interest in hooking up with Ray Davies at all as he was/is old enough to be my grandfather and he had been too old for the me in 2011 back in 1978 – unless I could get a time machine and even then I was fairly certain that we weren't compatible, and my affections for Ray Davies didn't really sway me in the direction of wanting to be physically near him or to even talk to him even though I thought he was absolutely beautiful. It's like I wanted to be him, but I wasn't trying to actually be him. I just wanted to be a little bit like him, or maybe I felt like I was a little bit like him, or I identified with something about him only found him to be a master at expressing that something in a way I was not. The specifics on that were blurry.
In order to improve my social skills, I read through the famous book 'How to Win Friends and Influence People'. I read it three times, as the book suggests. I read it despite and because of the chaos that ensued all around me. It was extremely helpful and insightful. It as basic as all get out, but it wasn't wrong about people either. I needed all the help I could get and the information in the book was precisely the kind of stuff I needed to be hearing. I wasn't good at peopling. This people business of making things happen in the world didn't come naturally. I was going to have to work for every morsel of people skills I had. Absolutely nothing came naturally to me. Even saying hi was an enormous question mark in my head.
My mother had started to save the money she made to move out. She had three thousand dollars. One day, we went out for groceries, came back and the three thousand was gone. Roxanne had bust in and stolen it. For the first week and a half after Roxanne had gotten out of her month of time in rehab, she had been enthusiastic, clear minded and ready for a life of sobriety. She was in rainbow land. And then it all came crashing down and she was back to using and every bit as desperate as ever. She came in one day, and I laughed and punched her arm lightly and affectionately, and she had suddenly become hostile. She threatened to throw me to the ground and beat me to a bloody pulp. It was sudden, and I was alarmed. And I knew she was back to using again. She went over to our mom and started telling her how she was going to lay 'that bitch' out – me. My mom looked at her nervously and attempted to explain that it had been a good natured sort of touch, not an attempt at a fist fight, but Roxanne seemed to not comprehend the gesture as being anything less than hostile. And soon enough we had to tell her to leave.
That three thousand dollars was not the first either. Sagen came in and stole the next sixteen hundred my mom saved up three weeks later. It was like the two of them were watching our house. They knew how to get in and out of Wes's. The look on my mom's face was horrifyingly sad when she looked around and suddenly realized that all the money she had been working for was gone. I often times lacked sympathy for much of my mother's outbursts, but this was a sincere and horrifying sadness. She actually began wailing. It felt like nothing was going right for anyone. Between Roxanne and Sagen my mother had essentially lost two months worth of wages. It was all in their arm probably before we even knew the money wasn't there anymore. If we hadn't had food stamps we would have been starving. Later on, Roxanne or Sagen or both, came in and also stole some rare collectors coins that Wes had owned. My mother never told Wes as he never looked at his coin collection – but it had been well over another five hundred lost and we all knew why.
At one point I remember the sink stopped working, and so we had to do the dishes in the handicap shower. It was very difficult. Allison attempted in vain to make friends. The people who she attracted were strange and nothing seemed to stick. She met these twin girls one day who were around her age that lived in our area. Both of them were very friendly, but not particularly bright. Allison remembers going to their house and watching them play with Barbies. Allison didn't play with toys anymore so she just watched and was amiable. What was strange about these girls is that they were very childlike, and also very unabashedly trying to get pregnant and make babies, which they both succeeded in soon enough so I guess good on them? And yet they still played with toys.
At night, Allison, David and I would walk around. We generally slept till the afternoon, or whenever my mother was awake. We hoped to avoid her as much as possible, and on the rare occasion where she had put down her farmville to get some rest, we were all very grateful. We listened to a lot of The Smiths and Joy Division. Properly speaking, we three aren't true goths, but to Lewiston we probably were. And admittedly, David and I in particular do have some level of that aesthetic ingrained in our nature. If I were to go cheap internet quiz on the matter – I would say I was 25% goth, but if post punk is the general term being used superficially we were both 40%. I also liked to think of myself as some kind of Lo-fi subcategory of indie that was folk-punky that encompassed mostly musicians I felt like I could relate to like Kimya Dawson or Jeffrey Lewis (a beloved favorite of mine). And at the same time I sometimes liked to imagine that if 60's baroque pop was a musical movement that had more of a distinct cult following like goth in the eighties, I was a good deal of  whatever that as well.
Anyway, in Lewiston I guess we weren't the biggest goths the world had ever seen since there was a rumor going around that there were teenagers pretending to or believing they were vampires who were biting people who walked alone at night. It seemed intriguing so we all went out every night hoping to meet the vampires. For all we knew though, that rumor could have been about us taking our nightly walks, we would never know. We decided to playfully defend our position by pretending that we were a group of The Cramps inspired psychobilly freaks called The Heebie Jeebies. I knew there was something called that already but I never bothered or felt curious enough to discover what that something was. Basically, we were these untouchable psychotic psychobilly freaks who drove around in old punked out hearses, played insane violent car games, messing up anyone who got in our way at night. We stayed up all night and slept all day. We were a gang and there were others. We invented characters. I felt influenced by some of the crazier tunes I had heard of Screamin' Jay Hawkins as well as Reverend Horton Heat and offbeat 60's horror. I liked the demented obscurity of it. We liked to make jokes that we were going to find those vampire kids and mangle them. It was a great way to pass the time as we walked for two hours through Lewiston at night.
One night around one in the morning. David was angry about something, and had just begun to drift. Allison was almost asleep as well. I was still awake, capturing a rare moment for myself in which everyone in the house was more or less asleep – a time at which I have always felt the most safe – when I started hearing the sound of pouring liquid. It sounded incredibly loud in the house. I looked over at a small closet where Allison and I kept most of our belongings and it was now heavily pelting on everything. It smelled terrible. Confused, I woke my mother up. She shouted at me, but I led her to the closet area anyway, and showed her the smelly liquid raining down on everything Allison owned and some things I owned as well. It was coming from the upstairs. My mother immediately got a ghostly disgusted look. Wes apparently had a giant container that held several gallons of urine. It was something that prevented him from having to attempt to get on his toilet which was hard for him. In his sleep he had knocked the container over, and what was raining on our stuff was his days old urine.
My mom was angry at first, and went and cleaned up the mess from the upstairs immediately. Allison had awoken to see that most of her posters and a great deal of her possessions were soaked and beyond repair. On top of everything else my sister had to go through, being kicked out for essentially no reason and so forth, seeing a lot of her stuff destroyed was rather disheartening. I lost a good deal of my paper items as well. I had to throw away some wood furniture. But I kept most of my books where I slept in my coffin so my losses weren't as great. My mother told us she would clean up the mess – since I guess his urine had some kind of disease in it – but after a few days it was clear she was simply refusing to do it.  I didn't think Allison, after having lost all of that stuff, should have had to have cleaned it all up by herself, but that is what ended up happening. We weren't exactly mad at Wes. It had been due to his laziness that this had happened, but I could only imagine how embarrassed and gross he felt upstairs. After that night, I grew suspicious and worried about urine rain coming down on me in the night. I tried to cover everything up better.
Sometimes I was beginning to feel like I couldn't take it anymore. I would never get out of this mess. I would never leave. My attempts at self improvement at the end of the day only amounted to me feeling that much more dissatisfied than I would have been had I not tried making the most of myself. I wondered about the darker avenues one could take to leave their family. Sell myself as a slave? Obviously, it was an unappealing thought – not one that I was going to follow through with – but what was it going to fucking take? Sarah-Mae was equally worried. She felt like there should be some kind of law against the way we were living. She talked to her mother about it, and they both were strongly pressuring me to call social services on my mom. I didn't feel quite right about it. While she had been a miserable person to be around, was what she was doing actually illegal? And I already knew it wasn't going to work. Interestingly, Wes was best friends with one of the number one people you talk to concerning social services. It was one of his few friends who seemed to honestly like and care about Wes. And while Sarah was trying to convince me to turn my mom in, she was up there serving this very fellow. He was in our house at that moment. There was no way it would have worked. And I remember feeling this vacant frustration with Sarah's methods of doing things. Ninety percent of the time, she took a very reasonable and pragmatic approach to solving problems. These approaches often times assumed there were no stipulations or psychological costs to the next step. In a lot of ways, it was good for me to listen to her, even when it went against my nature because I knew full and well that I could be my own worst enemy in regards to how I approached my life.
But every once in awhile, Sarah would, with the very best of intentions offer an explanation, a solution, or an assumption that felt redundant and sort of senseless. I wasn't mad at her for this. While it's true, she helped me talk through and work through a lot of my technical issues in life and she was right, I also knew that she wasn't god and couldn't fix my life. I think the disconnect was happening because she couldn't quite balance out being a friend who suffered with me, and being a friend who disconnected from my issues to help me remotely. In order to help me out in a remote sense, she couldn't let herself stand in my shoes. And at times I felt very alone, and misunderstood. Sometimes all I needed was the sense that I wasn't alone. And sometimes in order to solve a deeper seated issue, I felt like for instance with calling social services, it felt like she wasn't reading the situation clearly. Because even when I explained to her that the social service top guy was actually having supper upstairs, she almost had this remote sense that I should call him anyway, even though he knew us all by name already. I tried to explain that it didn't make sense, and she gave me this answer of 'well, you never know unless you try'. Allison, David and all knew that trying would be a bad idea, so that was never tried.
David was getting pretty terrible again. The stressful living situation was getting to him – bringing out his mental instability. I tried everything in my power not to fight with him, but he would emotionally attack us all. His fights with my mother got so bad – involving him going and breaking Wes's things and threatening to do worse, that she ended up calling the police on him. He was yelling and the entire scene was horrifying. Allison and I were afraid to leave the house. We sat on our beds fearfully and quietly crying. When the police officer came to the house, David was frenzically pacing around. If we so much as looked at him he would come up to us like he was going to hurt us. I remember the officer walking down the dingy little steps into the basement. David had retired to his bed area. It seemed strange to see a police officer in the basement, he was very out of place.
He started talking to David, telling him what happens to kids like him who refuse to go to school, who are violent and aggressive. For the most part he was telling David a specific kind of truth, but I felt there was an insensitive assholish aspect to this officer. What he essentially was telling us was 'adults are always right, your parents are always right, the world is a fair place and our misfortunes were brought upon us by ourselves'. David in many respects was at times someone who I had emotional difficulty feeling openly warm towards. I loved him to death, but you couldn't let yourself get hurt and you always knew that in the end he would hurt you and himself. But it seemed unjust to me to simply think that David was obstinately choosing this for himself, like he had ordered his emotional state out of a magazine arbitrarily as some kind of meddlesome fun. It was clear that he was miserable and looking at David like he was no victim seemed empty and rude. It was that same kind of attitude that had always prevented me from wanting to seek out help when I had needed it. If you live in a home and society that feels you deserve the bad things that are happening to you, then you internalize those bad things and it's sometimes easier for you to become cognitively dissonant and accept it.
I was relieved that the cop was there, as for the moment it had at least shut David down. I can't say I liked this cop much. He then started looking around the room and telling David how lucky all three of us were to live in this tiny room. Even my mother, who prided herself as some kind of tireless martyr was confused. While it was true that we had a fair amount of movies, books, stacks of albums and posters and pictures all over our wall, the idea that we were living well was a joke. I was personally offended. How could you look at Allison's stained pad on the floor, with no sheet and think of her as lucky? Would he seriously subject his children to this disaster? Or himself? I thought not. It seemed like an additional slap to face for all of us.
Sarah was having personal issues at home. I look back and I think some of her fixation on helping me might have been due to the strain of not knowing how to end her relationship. She didn't ever seem to look forward to going home. She seemed almost like Alex's mother sometimes. They didn't talk all that much either. They still seemed connected but there didn't seem to be a lot there. And Sarah didn't talk about him all that much. Neither one of them were the types to explode or fight out loud. What happened instead between them was almost an unspoken truce of resentment and indifference that translated into an empty form of polite acceptance of one another, that to me seemed almost worse than fighting. But maybe it was just that bad. There was so little passion between them, their relationship was so much like stale soda at this point that even fighting would have meant more than they shared. Or maybe they had simply both betrayed one another. Not in any theatrical display of abandonment or betrayal, but they had given up on their relationship but didn't want to talk about it, and so they continued to live with one another, both too proud and uncertain of their futures to know what else to do. I couldn't help but feel in retrospect, that they would be better off cheating on one another. It would have been more honest at least.
Then Sarah started telling me stuff. She had found three bottles of cough syrup in the back of the pick up that they had been given to drive from her mother. Alex had famously abused cough syrup when Sarah first knew him, but he had by all accounts quit for her. Now with this discovery that he had chugged three bottles of syrup, new questions sprang up. At first Alex denied that the bottles were his or that he had anything to do with it, but then he accepted that he was caught and told her it had just been that one time – no harm no foul. Sarah was embarrassed to tell me about it all – but she finally relented and let me know. She seemed disappointed. She was afraid I would see her relationship as a failure. She was afraid of the idea that her years spent with Alex had been a mistake. She didn't know what to do with him, but she felt weak without him.
And then soon after, she opened her piggy bank by her desk and found forty dollars missing. She was very upset about that. They quarreled. Alex felt that Sarah was obsessed with money. Sarah made it seem like money in her approach to the situation, but I knew Sarah, and the truth of the matter was she felt disrespected and she didn't trust Alex. Being mad at Alex at this point gave her an avenue to channel her distaste for being with him. She wasn't attracted to him. She didn't even seem to care if they spent any time with one another. She clearly was over him, but neither one felt like they could end it. So a fight about this stolen forty dollars was the first push towards the end.
I remember talking to Sarah about it outside of my mother's house. She drove out to Lewiston and we went out to a restaurant to discuss it. Then she talked more about it with me out by the curb. The sky was gray. We were leaning on her car. She didn't want me to tell anyone that Alex had stolen from her, or that she had found the cough syrup bottles, so I kept her secret. I didn't want to be the manipulative friend who always tries to encourage their friends to end their relationships and go single. But I knew that she wanted to hear it. In the end, she decided not to. Her reasons weren't all too romantic. She felt like she knew Alex too well to let him go. She felt like he was a nicer person than her in certain ways she wasn't giving him credit for. She felt like she might be able to force herself to be in love with him again if she could just try harder. And she was afraid that if she wanted to be a musician, her skills were not enough. Alex and her still hadn't done anything serious music wise, but it was true that Alex was skilled. He could play three or four instruments, and he had written songs that were half decent. Could she really let go of someone that talented? And most importantly, the basement still needed remodeling. They couldn't just leave her mother's basement without finishing it.
I tried to explain to her that all the things she saw in him that she didn't want to let go of, she could still maintain as a friend. They could move away from one another, and Alex and her, with the friendship they still had, could still play music. It's uncommon but not unheard of for exes to play music or work together. She could still visit him. But his life would be his life and her life would be hers. She didn't like the idea, and didn't want to make a decision. She was too afraid of what that might mean for her. She had been with Alex for six years, and the prospect of standing alone (though I would argue she was already doing that), caused existential dread.
David's outbursts were getting worse. All of us felt we were walking on egg shells. And there was nowhere to go. The best I could do was hide behind my pile of books, and hope to not make eye contact. My sympathetic nervous system was not given breaks. And the  same amount of daydreaming involved with keeping myself sane was also the same amount of daydreaming that would require I give up on my physical self entirely. So I would lay in bed, and I could not entirely let myself shut down to ignore him. I felt like an animal trapped in a corner, even when it wasn't aimed at me – and it often wasn't. It was aimed randomly at everyone, but generally it was my mother who fought with him the most. Usually it involved trying to get David to go to school. He was pushing things. It started feeling like something very violent and brutal was going to happen.
One morning, my mom was trying to tell David to go to school. By my assessment, she wasn't being unreasonable, yet. She told David to do something he didn't want to do, and suddenly he had become vicious and anything could happen. Allison had gone to school already, so it was my mother, myself and David down there. There was this awkward silence and we all knew that David was about to explode. I was rapidly trying to calibrate myself to this outburst that I knew was coming. My blood was flowing, I was having troubles breathing. I kept reminding myself to stay out of it by any means necessary. I tried to remind myself that I was in control of myself.
He started screaming at my mother, calling her a cunt and a whore and completely dehumanizing her. It felt murderous and sick. I couldn't take it anymore. It was too much like my father had made me feel. I stepped up and started telling David to knock it off, that our mother had only been polite to him and his reaction was insane. I said this calmly at first. I had tricked myself momentarily to believe I was not mad. I had jumped in, I think, assuming that I could maintain a calm face, and David could freak out and only get the mirror in his face as it had no reaction on me. But then he turned this argument entirely at me. He began calling me fat, worthless. I arrogantly tried to deflect these statements. I had only lost three pounds in that entire month and I was feeling pretty bad about it. And as I stood there taking his insults, I realized too late that my skin was too thin for this.
As he continued to call me a fat cunt, I suddenly felt this rise in me – this need to destroy what was hurting me. There was nothing else around us. Only him – or some version of him that I hated with every element of my being, and me. I felt like I was going to die if I didn't fight for my life. The sound went out of my ears. The next thing I know I was on top of him punching him repeatedly in the face as hard as I could. I couldn't stop, holding his head down to continue punching him. I didn't intend on stopping. I intended to punch until there was nothing left. Distantly, I could hear my mother crying and begging me to stop. It distracted me, and she pleaded with me 'RENEE, HE'S MY SON!!' This hit me for a moment. I looked down at David's swollen face. It's one of the most horrible pitiful sights I have ever seen in my life. His eyes were empty and almost dead with pain. I'd never seen anything quite like it. He was accepting these punches. It was spiraling down into something deep inside of him. He wasn't fighting back. I had destroyed something. I was breaking him, I was beating some creature full of shame. He wasn't just the enemy. He was the little boy I had helped raise. I probably punched him thirty times before I stopped. I stopped, realizing what I had done, and I ran out of the house. I never wanted to go back again.
In the moment, I had felt powerful. It's an ugly thing to grasp, that breaking of boundaries, that reclaiming of something for myself that I had never had before. I had felt this sense of justice and liberation and power that nothing had ever made me feel. Maybe psychologically I wasn't just punching him. Maybe I had been punching everyone in my life who had ever knocked me down spanning from early childhood. I had always been such a meek person on the receiving end of life. What he reduced it all to, and what he made me feel was a condensed conduit to all those feelings of being victimized and weak. And I don't remember deciding to punch him. If I had made the decision, I never would have chosen to do something like that to David.. I knew lived in the same shit world that I did, only he had less armor than me. He couldn't recede into the day world quite like I could. He had no savior in his life or friend like I did Sarah. The world was a dark and insecure place. And reality was ugly. He had been horrible to me, Allison and my mother – I won't deny that he was a monster at times, but he was also someone I loved and knew to have an enormous heart. He was very young, and nobody had cared enough to see him truly, or understand. And I had probably made the world so much more shittier for him, perhaps permanently. I had betrayed and broken some fundamental boundary. I had probably broken his heart.
The feeling of power of course abandoned me as soon as I found myself walking around down the dirty side roads of Lewiston. My hand hurt. I hadn't prepared my fist to become a weapon, and I had broken a few of my fingers in the process. My arm was swollen and throbbing. There was this inexplicable smell of suffering all around me. It had all happened so fast. One second I had been thinking of other things, the next I was trying to kill someone with my hands. Cars drove by and were indifferent. I felt myself feeling lost, and panicked, hideous. Reality seemed heightened and yet faded. And here I thought life had been getting better – here I thought I had been an instrument of self improvement. Here I was 'winning friends and influencing people'. Passerby passengers gawked at me as I cried. I probably looked crazy. Sarah didn't work that day, else I would have walked to her work and waited for her to get off. I was alone, and this was the world that I was trapped in.  And I had done something now that I could never take back. And I was alone in that decision.
I did eventually come back. I opened the screen door and slipped through, hoping to see my mother first. David was in his bed.  I detected no life from him, though there was that now familiar strange feeling of deep suffering I couldn't put a name to. The corner he slept in seemed darker than normal, as if he were sucking the light out of it. I had created a black hole. My mother looked at me from her laptop. Her eyes were accusing, and yet besides themselves. I don't remember what I said to her. By this point, perhaps we were beyond words. She wasn't mad at me. She was disassociating. It was too much. She was lost deeply in the electronic drug of her laptop. I tip toed to the other side of the bedroom, David on one end, I on the other. I let the black emptiness sink into me as I lay down in my book coffin. Allison came home, and I could hear my mother whispering to her what had happened. Eventually, I talked to Allison in the upstairs bathroom. David was still laying in bed. He laid there for the most part for several days, not speaking. Even in his silence, I felt like he was a different person.
We weren't on speaking terms after that. I generally tried to make even more space for him than I had already, letting him go on the few trips to the store with our mother. I had to come to terms with what had happened. It felt hard for me to blame myself the way I would generally. I couldn't remember the moment between standing there angry and suddenly being well into the act of attacking him. Had I remembered that moment, I would have been able to capture the exact emotion that spurred it on, to analyze it, make myself better from it. But all I could do was look back at the entire spectacle of violence, and realize what I was capable of – as an animal that wasn't in my keep. I didn't want to think about it, but it gave me this awakened realization that I could kill if I had to. I didn't want to glorify this realization. I didn't think it made me tough, or cool. It made me feel sick. I felt isolated. It was hard to own up to. But I knew myself better from the incident, all the while I knew myself less from it.
I was distracted though by something else as well. I woke up one Thursday morning from an emotional dream. In the dream, my father was going to kill himself. He was suffering. I could feel that suffering in my skin when I woke up. It felt real somehow, like a conversation I had truly had with him. I couldn't even say it was abstract. I knew there was something. I told my mom about it, and she suggested that I call him. I waited a day, anxious about giving into something I told myself I wasn't going to do. But then I began taking a different perspective. My father was not someone I was close to. He had indeed killed our connection in some way. Of course, deep in my psyche he would always live, there would always be that version of him in my thoughts somewhere, helping me through life and pushing me backwards at time. But I also knew from that point of our final fight had been something final. He wouldn't be able to reach me emotionally.
But then he was also a human being with a life, even if he wasn't my dad. I could find in myself, the empathy to check up on him, not as a daughter or a friend, but as a self aware fellow human being who had some sense that there was something wrong. I didn't want him to die. I had the power to do either one - I could not call, hope for the best (or the worst), and see what happened. Some part of me felt it would be more convenient for me to not make the call. If he died, then that would be the poetry and tragedy of his existence. I could appreciate that from a literary perspective. His physical death perhaps could solidify where I stood with him emotionally. But that was selfish and I knew it. Not everything was about me. Even if we never spoke to one another ever again, his life was his before I was born, and he deserved to continue to have that life with or without me in it.
So pushed myself and I made the call. When he answered the phone he sounded shaken, and panicked. The conversation didn't make too much sense. He asked if he could see me so we could talk. I agreed to meet with him at bike path by the river that evening. The sun was setting when I got there. The air was cold and brisk. My father got out of his truck like a wounded man. His color was off. He was shaky and struggling to come up with words. He looked around him suspiciously, as though he suspected he was being followed. I stood there observing all of this with a detached confusion. We began walking down the path, and he started talking about how 'they' were back again. I realized he was talking about the police/FBI or whathaveyou from the years before. I was confused. He hadn't done anything illegal in years. Hadn't we gotten rid of the evidence? What was this about?
After we had left him, he had fallen apart, spiraling into some kind of vague paranoid certainty that it was all over for him. The police were back – they were following him. He whispered these things to me, as he believe that it was possible the police had bugged the trees we walked besides. I had to eventually convince him that I hadn't gotten a hold of the police personally, something he had decided was true. He asked me over and over, looking into my eyes with this fearful blank look, had the police gotten to me? Had they? I was baffled and told him no. I knew he was too far gone into this nightmare to be reached, but I offhandedly tried my best to ask the sort of questions that might wipe away some of the vague certainties he had.
We went back to the house. He picked up Allison. I had convinced Allison that going with him might be a good idea, since he might be able to pay for her to get some new clothes. So she went with us. We stopped by Arby's. There was a  man eating by himself two seats down. My father was convinced this man was an FBI agent. Randomly, I tried to lighten the conversation by talking to Allison about unrelated subject matter. This entire thing was unpleasant, but I was going to try to make the best of it. I wasn't going to let my father's madness get to me. I wasn't going to let myself get too sympathetic. But I was going to try to stop him from doing anything stupid, and in order to be that person I needed to be a good actor for the cause. Randomly, as Allison and I were eating our food, he would hush us – even though we weren't making any remarks that would arouse suspicion. And how could we? We had done nothing wrong.
Somehow, my father pressured us to going back to Kendrick with him. I didn't want to. I so didn't want to. That town as dead to me – I had emotionally cut ties with that side of my life - forever. I hadn't been back there since the fight. Every nook of that town held some bitter sweet, bitter more than sweet memory of a bygone time in my youth. It was all tainted and stained by a consuming emptiness that cut to the heart of something inside me. It was over for me now and I was a new person. Going back to Kendrick was an unpleasant reminder of my roots. It made me feel the loss of things I couldn't quite imagine or explain. It had only been two months, but I had changed so much in that time.
Inside the house, nothing had changed since the day we left. I was aghast to find that the pumpkin that we had in the middle of the living room had been left to rot for two months. It smelled horrible. The house was freezing. It was already night time. It was twenty-thirty or so degrees in there. We could see our breath. How was he living in this dungeon? Absently, we were informed that the beloved neighbor cat, Tux, had died that year. She had been a family member to us – even when my own cat Nim was still there I preferred Tux, and her death only further cemented the end of an era in Kendrick. Allison and I once again, tried to make the best of it. He whispered and told us we weren't allowed to talk in the house at all. This made absolutely no sense. He said we could only talk outside. It a very cold very dark night, in the teens. I shivered and my skin started to burn when we went out there. We walked towards the roaring river. Still, my father insisted on whispering. He told me that 'they' had done something to his body. He had woken in the night to someone walking around his house, and the sound of some electronic crackling all around him, like the air had turned electric. His bones and skin were weak. He had stood up out of bed, and suddenly a green luminous light had passed slowly through the house, as if to scan it like an X-ray. He had thrown up.
Then he told us that police had followed him to his job, and when he got back to his vehicle, he had found powder on the door and all over the inside of the dashboard. And he then explained that he had befriended some guy at work, who he had told something to, and this man was part of it. This guy used to work for law enforcement and was looking to get back in. I was taken aback by it all. One part of me held into account that perhaps the investigating had started again. If that was the case however, they would have found nothing. There was no evidence and we hadn't done anything wrong. Even if there were some loose links in the situation, if they had enough evidence to convict my father for anything, I knew they wouldn't have wasted time. And what kind of technology could that even have been? Were there radiated X-rays that they could use to scan the insides of homes?
My father's eyes were swirly globes of fear. He also started talking about death, in a very abstract way, and then in a more immediate way. About how we had left him, and how he had nothing left. It was all over. He admitted that he was going to commit suicide that Monday. Had I not called him, he would do that. He had his gun ready, as well as a suicide note. He couldn't live this way. I walked composed and listened, Allison following suit. He kept looking around, sometimes stopping to say 'Do you hear that??!?', but of course I couldn't. And if I had heard something it would more than likely have been an animal. Nobody was going to sit out by the river in this kind of weather.
For about ten minutes, Allison and I were frightened that my father was going to kill us. It's not that he was threatening us directly. But his abstract way of talking about death and about us, the way he seemed to want to break our boundaries we had set up and cling to us like a wild frenzied animal hell bent on dragging us down to hell with him. For the first ten minutes of that walk, I had this painful realization that this walk could be the last walk we ever too, perhaps he had schizophrenia, and the voices told him to kill us? What if he had thought it was me all along who had called 'them'. What if he thought I was an imposture? At this point, anything was possible. I had long given up my preconceived notions for what would come next. Allison looked fearfully in my eyes, and later told me she felt the same way. I could picture us so well, both of our bodies frozen by the river, heads both bashed in by rocks. It would not have been a murder out of vengeance or rage. It would have been some aspect of my father's obscure suicide. Something more symbolic to his state of mind – a testament to how afraid he was to lose us. Perhaps a mercy killing.
We didn't die that night. And I came to believe that his madness was an external delusion manifested from his sheer inability to accept anything about himself. Perhaps the case had been reopened. It was hard for me to know for certain, and I guess I never will know. It doesn't matter though because there was no evidence that could be used, and there never would be. And lastly, maybe when this inner paradigm shift had happened, maybe it wasn't just me. Maybe it had affected everyone around me. And my father was too sensitive and weak to comprehend it and it had driven him insane? All of these were theories I held. I had no idea if they held any merit. Reality was getting fuzzier and fuzzier. It was hard work grasping for facts, and it was even harder to grasp for wisdom in the madness.
PART 86 - https://tinyurl.com/y8fcu787
PART 85 - https://tinyurl.com/y73j3s9z
PART 84 - https://tinyurl.com/y8chr6hw
PART 83 - https://tinyurl.com/yasrxfkj
PART 82 - https://tinyurl.com/y9wvecz3
PART 81 - https://tinyurl.com/yc7bm62r
My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-80 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far).
http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-8
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