So, I made a thing. As I mentioned, I’ve been having a lot of fun making up my own rain world stuff, y’know, like an entire custom region. Well, you may have noticed that the bonus pictures of my notes included information on a couple things that didn’t show up in the forest. Namely, my iterator oc, One Thousand Silent Eyes.
Well, I’ve been possessed by the need to write a short ficlet about them discovering what happened to the canon iterators through finding broadcasts as they attempt to reestablish their long range communications.
I’ve discussed Silent Eyes in more detail over on @nerdydowntherabbithole‘s blog, and I don’t won’t to go over everything about them again, so here’s the main thing you need to know before reading: Silent Eyes operates as a sort of hivemind. They have multiple different bodies, each with their own unique copy of Silent Eyes, but they think and act as a single entity when together. This does become relevant occasionally in this ficlet, most often when they switch between “themself” and “themselves,” depending on whichever is appropriate. They will also occasionally reference actions performed by different bodies happening at the same or similar time, as they see themselves as being in both of those bodies at once.
With that clarified, the story can be found below the read more. (Please be gentle, I’ve literally never written a fic before)
They let out a thoughtful chirp from their speakers as they hovered up to the antenna of the decrepit relay station; a habit they’d picked up from time spent around their citizens. On instinct, they went to store the information in their general memory banks, only to stutter in their flight as they failed to connect.
They were... still getting used to that. Silent Eyes knew that these long distance missions were necessary for reestablishing communication with the other clusters, but that didn’t make it any less uncomfortable to be cut off from so much of themselves.
At least the sensation eased up somewhat when they hunkered down in the MMSP to wait out the rain. Some of their citizens had come along for the ride, even after the extended nature of this outing was explained to them. Truthfully, they were grateful for the company. Tending to the needs of the adventurous group of slugcats served as a much appreciated distraction from the concerns that plagued them lately.
And ah, there was the crux of the issue, wasn’t it? The thing that they’d wanted to pass off to the rest of themselves while they focused on documenting what material components they’d need to fabricate in order to get this ancient transmitter back up and running: the broadcasts. They’d been found stored on the station’s barely functional servers and the contents were... distressing.
They weren’t stupid; they’d heard the rumors. Those were all on public chatrooms, after all, so they had made it much further out than any encrypted private conversations. But Eyes had treated them with a hopeful skepticism. They hadn’t know Unparalleled Innocence very well, and the rumors were just that: rumors. They’d helped iterators handle cases of rot before, they were sure Five Pebbles could handle himself. And losing contact with Looks To The Moon doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad happened to her. Everyone’s communications were breaking down. Heck, they’d had to repair their own communication arrays before they could even talk to the iterators right next to them! Their neighboring cluster was most likely perfectly fine. They probably just needed a few new antennas, a couple fresh dishes, a good rewiring and bam! Problem solved.
Except, well... these old messages paint a slightly different picture.
It’s probably nothing! They’re probably just overthinking things, making false assumptions because they’re working with much less information than they’re used to. This will all make much more sense when they get this relay back to working order, so they can take a new look at this data with all of their processing power at their disposal. The ARU that they’re piloting wasn’t exactly built for complex thinking, after all, with its internals mostly full of sensors and data storage. That’s why ARUs are always accompanied by an MMSP; its large computing system dedicated to housing Silent Eyes picks up the slack for its smaller cousins.
They’re just maybe, slightly freaking out because even with the additional processing power of the MMSP parked right outside, the messages are still setting off all kinds of alarm bells in their brain. Contents aside, just the fact that they’re seeing these messages at all is frankly concerning.
Silent Eyes has become intimately familiar with the inner workings of an iterator’s communication arrays. They know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that incoming messages are not meant to bounce like this. The different systems for incoming and outgoing information are completely separate, only connected in that they are both part of communications. The fact that they found the messages here, in a relay station almost halfway between the two clusters, is indicative of a catastrophic malfunction on Looks To The Moon’s end. Her systems would’ve had to be physically rewired for them to broadcast a message in its entirety to a random recipient immediately upon receiving it, rather than download its contents for Moon to read. It’s honestly a miracle that the header and group name were the only things lost in the process.
It would be a different story for a public communiqué sent to a group discussion- long range broadcasts are sent along multiple relays, so that there are redundancies in case one breaks down- but these were clearly meant to be direct communications between iterators in the same cluster, with their names listed directly beneath the missing group: “No Significant Harassment, Big Sis Moon.” It should’ve been impossible, and yet here it is, scanned directly into Silent Eyes’ internal storage.
As for the messages themselves... there’s not much to be said. Two short chatlogs between users “No Significant Harassment” and “Big Sis Moon.” NSH is the only one to speak. He is unsure if his messages will reach Moon, citing an unknown amount of damage to her systems. Five Pebbles appears to be uncooperative, and NSH seems to be planning something. All in all, it sounds like a grim situation.
But, well, it’s only two messages! Maybe NSH’s plan worked, and Moon’s communication arrays stopped sending messages here! Or, maybe they can find more messages once they restore power to the upper floor! Oh, and what if-
Plink! Silent Eyes jolted at the sound of something hitting the base of their wings. Oh, the rain is coming. It seems they weren’t doing a very good job of focusing on repairs.
They spur themselves into motion, abandoning the various tasks around the station that they’d been idling at for the last half an hour. It seems they’ll have to wait until the next cycle before they can reconnect with the rest of themselves.
As they settle themselves down to charge in the vast hanger of the MMSP, and their large, armored form prepares to weather the rain, Silent Eyes takes comfort in the fact that all of their citizens appear to be fed and accounted for. They flutter their wings in amusement as the slugcats begin to bully them into the quickly forming cuddle pile on the floor, adjusting themself slightly to support the one that’s already fallen asleep on their back. They don’t appear bothered in the slightest by the rigid metal form of the ARUs, seeming perfectly content with the fact that all four of them together provide a comfortable amount of heat.
Surrounded on all sides by warm bodies, with the sounds of purring echoing off the walls of their hanger, Eyes feels their fans start to slow as the worry that had been eating at them finally begins to abate.
The messages are concerning, and Eyes is still concerned at the apparent state of their fellow iterators, but they will not let their fear dismantle them. With a clearer mind and a new objective, One Thousand Silent Eyes finds themselves wishing they could tell NSH the same thing he tried to tell Looks To The Moon: “Hang in there. I’m coming to help.”
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no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.
too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.
2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?
but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.
as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.
which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.
the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.
so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.
and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.
but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.
people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".
but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.
but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.
a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.
i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.
and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.
it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.
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Can we talk more about the fact that both of Valerie's dates for the school dance dumped her to go to the dance with someone else? 🥺
I mean...
Valerie: Which, by the way, is my answer, unless something happens in the next five minutes that makes me dateless.
Kwan: You'll never guess what happened! Donna said she'd go to the dance with me, so you're dateless! (Walks away.)
Think about it. You have gotten a date to the school dance. Then your date tells that he is going with someone else (you were just the second option in case the other person said no).
Hurts, but thankfully you have a new date who is really excited to go with you.
You have bought a nice dress, gotten your hair and make-up done. And then you wait for your date. He is late.
How long does it take for you to realize that he is not coming? He went with someone else (just like Kwan).
Do your friends notice that you are not at the dance or are they too busy with their own dates? Do you go to the dance alone? Or do you stay at home? Do you cry yourself to sleep and then next day tell everyone that you were the one who canceled, because your pride doesn't let you admit the truth?
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Are there any fics about this?? If there are send me links to them!
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