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#I am my own saboteur here this is so stupid
crestfallercanyon · 1 year
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5, 9, 17 for the writing wrapped questions!! <3
Hi there!! Thanks for the asks, so excited to talk about the writing year! (can't believe 2022 is almost up!)
5. Favorite line of dialogue you wrote this year?
I answered this previously but here it is in small form:
Truly a favorite single line? "We keep a piece of all the monsters we survive; if this meant that we became them, there'd be no good people left." - Derek, Of All My Crimes
Favorite exchange? “If you’re gonna suggest somethin’ like that to me, then you say exactly what you mean. You tell me what you mean by that, Thomas.”  “You know what I mean,” Thomas insists.  “Shucking say it.”  “You’d have to kill me, Gally. You’d have to kill me.” - Gally and Thomas, Look Who's Inside Again
Favorite 'Monologue'? “Gally follows the rules. He makes life easy for himself. He tabs his Bluebook, he writes out all of colloquies even though he’s recited them a thousand times, hell, he labels all of his clothes so he knows what color they are. And he follows the rules. His house? You should have seen it, Newt. It was warm and taken care of and good. I always thought him like a raw material, stone, the crust of the earth, but that doesn’t give him the credit. He wasn’t born of stone, he has built himself, brick by brick, to be the way he is. ... ... I, on the other hand, am a goddamn disaster. And the worst part? After seeing the way he holds himself, I realize that I’m not even a natural one. I’m no hurricane or tornado. I do this to myself. Over and over and over, I am a self-saboteur, I am my own worst enemy. I can’t get out of my own head. I can’t stop acting on impulse, I get into so much trouble. And each and every night my mind cycles through every stupid thing I said, every stupid thing I did, realizing how many holes I’m going to have to pull myself out of tomorrow. And I try to be better, but I always end the day with more, and I keep counting them until it’s just me, driving myself insane until I fall asleep.”  - Thomas, Conflicts of Interest
9. Most important writing lesson you learned this year?
Reading more really does help improve one's own writing, writing stuff with exact same themes (or even plotline) as previously done is okay and if you want to write it do it, and writing with friends -- even if you aren't sharing your stories -- really does help the creative process and is often much more productive than writing alone even if less total words are sometimes written (thank you word wars in the discord <3)
17. What songs did you listen to while writing?
Depends on the story! Here are a bunch of favs: I Know the End and Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers Shiva and Putting the Dog to Sleep by The Antlers Cold Love, No Vacancy, and Heart by Rainbow Kitten Surprise It's All So Incredibly Loud and The Other Side of Paradise by Glass Animals This December - slow by Ricky Montgomery The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by Birdy (OG by The Postal Service) Something Has to Change by The Japanese House Michael by Remi Wolf We Don't Want Your Body and In Our Bedroom After the War by Stars Sufjan Stevens boygenius (Lindsey Dacus, Phoebe Bridgers, and Lucien Baker) My Quiet Forest Home from the OST of Octopath Traveler Carousel by Iron and Wine Sylvan Esso most of Remi Wolf's other songs (Woo, Disco Man, and Sexy Villain particularly) Dissolve Me by Alt-J Soaked and Hope is a Heartache by Leon (or any of Leon, but that gets angsty again) Misfit Toys from Arcane Soundtrack (lots and lots of soundtracks) Lots of Still Woozy Lots of AJR Take it Out On Me by White Lies (thank you clod <3) Priscilla by Sea Wolf I Will Light You On Fire by Golden Shoulders And then my playlists for Tmrss will absolutely give me away in the end so y'all will have to wait on that :D
Thank you so much for the ask!!! <3 Here is the original post.
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glamourizedcocaine · 3 years
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hyenahunt · 2 years
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Jun Sazanami - Sub Story 2: Curse of the Bastard Child
Writer: Akira
Season: Summer (ES!)
Characters: Jun, Jin
Proofreading: hyenahunt
Translation: royalquintet
Jun: You’re telling me my dad got his life ruined by this useless drunkard with a 5 o’clock shadow who gets smashed at his workplace?!
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[Location: Teacher's Room]
Jun: ‘Scuse me~
Huh… No one’s even here. That’s pretty careless, y’know~? No one to blame but yourselves if anything gets stolen, alright? You coulda locked the door~!
(Oh…? Wait, looks like someone’s wiped out on the sofa over there?)
Jin: ...Yaaawn. Who’re you? That’s not our school’s uniform.
Ah… Right, you’re probably one of the kids in that joint event we have with Reimei. Well, welcome. Got some business in the teacher’s office?
Jun: Ah-- Uh, yeah. I came to turn in some forms and stuff.
Jin: Ohhh, good work.
Sorry ‘bout that~ It’d be a lot easier if we could just do it digitally. But we still have some old-fashioned folks here, so we have to do every little thing by paper.
Jun: Nah, it’s fine. It’s not like this was a whole lot of trouble or anything. Just a few papers.
But I had a few things I wanted to ask about…
We talked about the school who invited us--Yumenosaki Academy--paying for the expenses up to a certain point, but...
Are you really gonna be okay~? That idiot in my unit spends money like water, so I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be a huge cost to you guys. For real, you know?
Jin: I dunno, really. Our resident rich kid apparently has a hand in the budget, so we’re probably fine.
Go wild, if you want. I’d rather you kids have a good time since you dragged yourselves all the way over here.
Though it’s not really my place to say, since I’m not in charge of that Summer Live thing.
Wait here, I’ll get Akiyan-- Uh, the teacher who’s managing the plan for it.
Lessee… Huh? Where’d I put my phone again? Crap, I can’t remember anything after I opened my third bottle of sake.
Jun: ...You were drinking on school grounds? Uhh, you are a teacher here, right? Not just some bum who wandered in?
Jin: Ahh, it’d be pretty bad if the headmaster or some other higher-up found out about it, so keep it a secret, okay?
I thought my secret stash was gonna get found out, you see. I panicked and tried to drink it all but then I guess I blacked out.
Jun: Damn… I can’t even imagine that happening at Reimei.
I heard Yumenosaki went through a pretty rough patch, but seems like corruption runs rampant among the teachers, too, huh?
Jin: You know, you shouldn’t say that when there’s a teacher right in front of you…
It’s all good, though. They’ll overlook it as long as I’m not doing anything illegal.
Not like I’m demanding a favor from them, but I did earn a lot of money for Yumenosaki.
I just want ‘em to be more forgiving about my stupid behavior, to a certain extent.
Jun: …?
Jin: Ooh, there’s my phone. Hellooo, Akiyan? It’s me! Jin~
Yeah, there’s a kid from Reimei here… Can you deal with him?
Jun: Jin…? Wait, don’t tell me you’re…Jin Sagami?
You look real different, so I didn’t see it at first, but… Ah, now that I look-- You’re actually Super Idol Jin Sagami, aren’t you…?!
Jin: Huh? Are you my fan or something? I thought young‘uns these days don’t have a clue who I am.
Ahaha, you here for my signature? Nah, just kidding...♪
Jun: Goddamn! Who’d want your signature, you murderer…!
Jin: Eeek?! Wait, what’s going on? Why are you mad at me? It’s the terrible teens…!
Jun: Ugh, right, as if you’d know… You wouldn’t have the slightest recollection of all the rabble you crushed underfoot, would you.
My name’s Jun Sazanami, by the way. Ring any bells for you, Jin Sagami?
Jin: Wait… Unh, what? Sorry, my head’s still half-asleep…
Jun: …"Jun" sounds kinda like "Jin." Does that remind you of anything?
Jin: Huh? What do you mean?
Oh no… Crap, I don’t wanna deal with someone claiming to be my illegitimate child or something! I don’t know how to raise a kid!
Jun: Seriously, how long are you gonna play dumb… I’m pretty sure my father sent you a video around springtime this year?
Jin: What? Ahh, that thing! That cursed video!
It was pretty creepy, so I had it burned at the Hasumis’ temple, but I remember it had my saboteur-- I mean, my rival in it!
Right, his name was Sazanami! Wait, you said he was your dad… You’re his son?!
Urgh, I had a bad feeling about this and it was right on the mark… So, is that what you’re up to? Out to get your dad’s revenge or something?
You’re an era too late for that, though~ The law doesn’t allow for revenge, you know?
Jun: As if? My dad’s been pretty messed up for as long as I can remember…
Didn’t even treat me like a human, no love or anything.
I’m not gonna waste my life getting revenge for a bastard like that…
But of course I got curious, and from the videos I watched back then, I might’ve even kinda admired you just a little.
My dad was done in by such an incredible guy… I thought he might’ve been even satisfied with that.
So I’d accepted it and even felt kinda relieved. But now...
Ugh, fuck! God dammit, this is worst…
You’re telling me my dad got his life ruined by this useless drunkard with a 5 o’clock shadow who gets smashed at his workplace?!
Jin: No, um, but, I’m usually a bit better put together than this?
I mean, yeah, I felt sorry for your dad, but… I didn’t mean any harm. It’s just how things were back then.
Just go easy on me, okay?
And don’t say anything weird to the students, even by mistake… If you’re gonna have your revenge, have it with me.
I won’t complain even if it stings me. I earned it, anyway.
Jun: I said I’m not trying to get revenge. My dad may have raised me and sent me to Reimei for that purpose, but…
My dad’s my dad. I’m my own person.
Though if I take down your precious students… It’ll be like punishing the kids for their parents’ mistakes. Maybe it’d even make me feel a bit better?
My dad’s idol career ended in utter defeat…
But I can prove that when it comes to raising idols…he’ll outdo Jin Sagami anyday.
Haha. Ohiisan had to drag me to this Summer Live thing, but...I’m kinda looking forward to it now~
Jin: Mmgh… Well, it’s great that you’re excited about it, I guess.
But I do feel like the stage is no place to bring your thirst for revenge, or any other motives.
It was from giving into those kinds of scummy, dishonest thoughts that both me and your dad wound up losing our way.
Jun: ……
Jin: And besides. You act like it’ll be such a breeze to take them down, but our brats here are pretty talented themselves…
They may still be little babies without much experience, but don’t underestimate ‘em.
If you let your guard down, you’ll be the ones getting eaten up.
You don’t wanna repeat your dad’s failures either, right?
Jun: ...Thank you very much for the advice. I’ll really take it to heart, Jin Sagami.
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tessaliagrey · 3 years
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Day 3 - Bo and Ursa are besties
Author’s note: I actually planned on writing something like a girls’ night out… Well, you know me… I wrote something else.
Summary: Bo and Ursa talk after Carlac.
Tagging: @bokatanweek
You can eiter read here on AO3 or below the cut.
03 - Bo and Ursa are besties
Setting up a new camp was always exhausting, but Bo never minded. And besides, it was their own fault they had to leave. Not that Bo would ever say that out loud, she wasn’t stupid. She trusted Pre Vizsla, but the man had been too impatient lately and she had seen how he treated people who spoke out against his decisions. Not that Bo never did, but she was smart enough to do it when only Vizsla could hear.
But anyway, the situation was like it was, and there was no use complaining about it now. And besides, Carlac had been too cold for her liking anyways. Not that Zanbar was more to her taste, but at least it wasn’t freezing.
With the camp set up, people were going about their business again. Vizsla was in his tent, and Bo contemplated whether or not to go talk to him. She hadn’t said anything about what happened so far, and maybe it was better to leave him be for another few days. And besides, she wasn’t done yet.
Bo certainly wasn’t the oldest one in Vizsla’s ranks, but for sure one of the warriors with the most experience. She had fought in the Civil War, even though many had thought her too young. But she had prevailed.
She had learned much during that time. A lot of the warriors that flocked to Vizsla wanted to fight, and that was fine with Bo. But they never quite seemed to grasp that victory was not based on numbers and fire power alone. Sure, those things helped. But intel, preparation, supply lines,… The intricacies of strategic planning went over most people’s heads, really. And so it was Bo-Katan who stood in one of the supply tents, inventorying everything they still had in stock.
She just made a note to get more power packs when she heard the tent flap open and close.
“Still at it?”
Bo’s head whipped around.
“Ursa!”, she exclaimed, and walked over to hug her friend. “I thought you were staying on Krownest for another few weeks at least. Everything alright?”
Ursa chuckled, hugging her friend back.
“Yes, everything’s fine.”
“How are Alrich and Sabine?”
Ursa smiled fondly. “They’re both good. You know them, they make a good team.”
Bo nodded, and yet she thought she had detected a hint of sorrow in Ursa’s last words.
“Want a drink?” Bo asked. “Someone managed to store the tihaar next to the vibro blades.”
“Ouch,” Ursa said, shaking her head. “Makes you wonder where people keep their heads sometimes. But yeah, I’d take a sip.”
Bo got a bottle out of one of the boxes, and the two women settled on the floor, backs against an obliging crate.
For a few moments, they sat in silence, passing the bottle back and forth. Then, Ursa began to talk.
“You know,” she began, a frown on her face, like she was trying to find fitting words for what she wanted to say. “I feel torn, sometimes.”
Bo looked over to her friend and just nodded, encouraging Ursa to go on.
“On the one hand, I want to be here. I want to be in this fight, not just watching from the sidelines. I’m a warrior, it’s my duty. And yet…”, she trailed off, letting out a long, low sigh.
“And yet, you also want to be home,” Bo-Katan said.
Ursa nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“And why wouldn’t you,” Bo continued softly. “You have a lovely daughter, and a husband who dotes on you. You are very lucky in that regard. It’s okay to not want to miss out on that.”
Ursa smiled a tired smile at Bo-Katan, then grabbed the bottle from her hands and took a swing.
“You know,” Ursa kept on saying, the alcohol slowly seeming to have an effect on her infliction, “I love my husband and I love Sabine. I actually like being a mother, you know. And you know what bugs me about it sometimes?”
Bo shook her head.
“That Alrich is so much better at it than I am.”
“Ursa!”
“What? It’s true! He has it all down. The diapers, the feeding, the sleeping… I’m an amateur next to Alrich.”
Bo wanted to interject, but Ursa was on a roll. “And it’s my own fault! Because I can’t just sit at home and let others fight this war while I take care of my family.”
“Ursa, stop!”, Bo finally managed to get in. “You make it sound like that is wrong, and it just isn’t!”
“It isn’t. It isn’t?”
“No, it isn’t”, Bo confirmed. “Whatever works best for you and your family isn’t wrong, but the right thing to do. Imagine if you and Alrich were to switch roles. Imagine you’d be on Krownest all the time. I mean, yeah, sure, you’d see a lot more of Sabine, and you do deserve to. But would it make you happier that the arrangement you have right now? To watch Alrich go off to war while you change the diapers?”
Ursa was eerily silent for a moment.
“Because if it would make you happier, Ursa, then you should go home.” In an afterthought she added “I wouldn’t blame you for it.”
Ursa took another swallow from the bottle and let out another long sigh.
“No,” she admits. “I wouldn’t be happier. Not really. I just miss them.”
“As you should,” Bo said.
She then put her arm around Ursa’s shoulder and pulled her into her side.
“It’ll be alright,” she told her, rubbing her friend’s arm.
They kept sitting in silence for a little while longer. Then, Ursa began to talk again.
“And here?”, she inquired. “What happened on Carlac?”
Bo shrugged. “Something unexpected.”
“How so?”
Now it was Bo’s turn to sigh. “You know how Vizsla wants to get back at Dooku. Someone reached out to the Death Watch, a young senator’s son called Lux Bonteri. His mother used to be a senator in the Confederacy. She had died unexpectedly, and her son blamed Dooku for it. And from what I could gather, it’s actually not that unlikely. Dooku didn’t admit it, of course. But Bonteri wanted revenge. But one look at that kid will tell you that he alone could never pull it off. He needed someone with strength.”
“Alright,” Ursa said. “But what made Pre enter a deal with him?”
Bo smirked. “Bonteri had figured out a way to locate Dooku. The deal was that Bonteri would find out where Dooku is hiding, and the Death Watch would go and take him out. Win-win.”
“Well,” Ursa said, frowning, “that clearly isn’t what happened.”
“No,” Bo agreed. “Though it did start out promising. The kid showed on Carlac as planned. And he did have Dooku’s coordinates.”
“But?”
“But he wasn’t alone. I don’t think he planned on bringing the girl, though.”
“He brought a girl?”, Ursa asked, disbelief in her voice. “Like a girl friend?”
Bo huffed out a laugh. “If only. They did try to sell that story, though. Bonteri introduced her as his betrothed. I should have known that it was a cover story. I mean one look at her and you’d know that she wasn’t made to be some senator’s wife who would entertain guests while her husband talks politics. She was…feisty…I guess.”
Ursa grinned. “You like her.”
Bo shrugged. “I would like her…under different circumstances. Turned out the girl was a Jedi.”
“What?”
Bo nodded, making an affirmative noise. “Kinda badass. Managed to decapitate four of our warriors in one strike. Very skilled for her age. Gave me a run for my money, that’s for sure.”
“You like her. Jedi or not.”
Bo shrugged again. “Maybe…”
Now it was Bo’s turn to take a sip from the bottle.
“There is something else bothering you,” Ursa said. It was a statement, not a question, as Bo noticed. But she kept silent.
“Bo, come on. If not to me, who are you gonna talk to.”
Bo sighed again. “I’m worried.”
“About what?”
“Vizsla.”
For a few heartbeats, the tent was completely silent. But then, Ursa answered.
“Yes,” Ursa agreed. “So am I.”
“We had a good plan,” Bo-Katan continued. “Slowly escalate until it was clear that Satine had lost the grip on the situation. Until the people felt no longer safe. Vizsla blames that Kenobi guy for his plans to fall through.”
“But you don’t.”
“Well, I do, in a way. But the Jedi would never have been involved if we hadn’t made a deal with Dooku. We would not have sent a saboteur to a republic cruiser on our own, it would not have furthered our plans at all. It was the only reason they sent a Jedi to Mandalore in the first place, not because of the Death Watch. The Jedi were probably completely unaware of us until Kenobi’s arrival.”
Bo took another swig from the bottle and continued.
“It was the right thing after that to call off our deal with Dooku. But it should have ended there. But for Pre, it didn’t. He took it personal. And now he wants revenge. On Dooku, but even more so on Kenobi. And I fear his personal endeavor for vengeance might at one point jeopardize our operation.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“I wanted to, but I didn’t find the right time. And then that Bonteri kid came around and I thought that if it worked and we could get back at Dooku, if Vizsla got his revenge, then we could get back on track with taking over Mandalore.”
“And then, the kid brings yet another Jedi,” Ursa said, groaning. “Great.”
“And again, if we hadn’t involved an outsider, we wouldn’t have had to deal with the Jedi again at all.”
Ursa nodded in agreement.
“So, what now?”, she asked.
“I’ll wait a few more days, then talk to Pre,” Bo answered. “But I need to give him some time to cool off first. I am one of the very few who can actually contradict him in private, but that’s not a free pass to do so. No, I need to choose the moment carefully.”
Ursa nodded again and took the bottle from Bo-Katan.
The two women kept sitting in the supply tent, passing the bottle back and forth. Eventually, their talk went to lighter topics.
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haec-est-fides · 4 years
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Gaius Caligula and Commodus being defeated at the end of Tyrant’s Tomb was high key bullshit and I think we all know it. Disregarding the fact that it’s a “happy ending” and instead looking at the plot? No. It was impossible. 
First off, Frank should have died. I love him, and his character arc was fantastic - up until he miraculously showed up in his cape and underwear. The idea of him freeing himself from his curse is nice and all, but made zero sense in context. If burning his kindling didn’t kill him, a tunnel full of Greek fire would. So would being stabbed in the gut. So would the sheer amount of wounds he was suffering from before he challenged the emperors if he didn’t get healed quickly. He was in a bad place, and there was no way he could walk back to Camp in his condition to get medical attention even if we allow him to survive the Caldecott fire, somehow. The way he survives without any kind of plausible explanation also cheapens Gaius’ death. Frank burnt up his life force by sheer strength of will to kill Gaius. But y’know he’s fine or whatever. No biggie.
If anyone should have survived the fire, it was Gaius and Commodus. Theoretically, they shouldn’t be able to die at all, though of course they must for the story. To be fair, I do love how Frank called Gaius out. That’s a stunning moment:
“We are gods.” 
“And I’m the son of Mars, praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. I’m not afraid to die. Are you?”
But Gaius is right, he and Commodus are gods. Key trait being immortality. Rick is notoriously bad about continuity in his own books, but the only entities we’ve ever seen truly “die” are faded gods, like Pan and Harpocrates. All of which, if my memory serves, actually faded willingly. The next closest thing would be what happened to Kronos: scattered to the wind like an evil Humpty Dumpty, but not truly dead. The way Rick writes Gaius’ death, that isn’t what happens. I may be wrong, but by the established origins of the Triumvirate and their power, they can’t die because they won’t. As Nero frankly iconically states, “I am immortal on Wikipedia!”
Secondly, Lavinia could not have sabotaged Gaius’ fleet like she did. It was an admirable mission, but let’s look at the facts: 
Right off the bat, Kahale, an experienced centurion, and his team of elite commandos (who were most likely a smaller group than Lavinia and the nature spirits / fauns) were caught and killed. 
Let’s say that Lavinia’s mission was timed better, missing the bulk of the army. She does say that the ships were running a skeleton crew. (Side note: how cheap of a move to make sure that the protagonists aren't killing a bunch of people. Weak.) However, even with a “skeleton crew” I find it ridiculous to believe that one girl and some nature spirits - with the help of nereids or not - could sneak onto fifty giant cruise ships, locate the artillery, “sabotage” it, escape, and have that artillery be fired in such a way that it takes out every ship with no saboteur casualties.
This irks me, because it just shows that Rick sucks at artillery. I have a bone to pick with Octavian’s death, because onagers just don’t work like that, but I digress. Here, the problem is even worse. How stupid are the Pandai? The only way to “sabotage” the artillery and have it destroy the ships as it did is for the guns to be aimed straight up. Assuming miraculously that none of the guards on any of the ships noticed the saboteurs, there would be pre-fire adjustments and checks regardless. There is no reasonable way to expect that anyone would fire an artillery piece straight up and only then realize that something was wrong. Speaking realistically, it’s also likely that at least one member of the skeleton crew on each ship would be a descendant of Apollo and a projectile weapons expert. Gaius isn’t stupid.
The ONLY way that Lavinia could have succeeded is if she and her friends pulled a Beckendorf and sacrificed themselves to fire the artillery and destroy the ships. Which they didn’t. (I’m sensing a theme here.)
Lastly, the emperors’ army would not have run like that. I- I don’t even know what to say at this point. They had fifty yachts full of soldiers, mostly Germani but also various monsters, demigods, and even human mercenaries, yes? Speaking just for the Germani, they’re a loyal, fearless bunch. If the yachts were really so empty, would they care about the sabotage? Wouldn’t the deaths of their leadership just piss them off? Frank was gone at that point, and there were less than a dozen legionnaires left. No offense to Apollo, but he is not that scary. Actually, full offense. Honestly, Triumvirate Holdings is still a triumvirate even if it’s broken into competing households. The army could (should) have taken the city and contacted Nero. Hell, I’m sure one of the demigods in Gaius’ or Commodus’ household would take charge. This just opens an entire can of worms that will get its own post soon. 
This got very long, and I’m sure it’s pretty controversial? Feel free to yell at me. The TL;DR is that the only way the ending could have worked was for Frank and Lavinia & Co. to sacrifice themselves. Even then, we’re left with hundreds of heavily armed troops and a functional leadership structure, whereas New Rome was effectively in ruins and full of zombies.
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shounen-nonsense · 4 years
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Moral Convictions
So I’m rereading One Piece from the beginning as I buy the manga in print, and it’s fantastic. I love it.  You see so much that you didn’t catch the first time around, especially in the early arcs, because the tone of the manga wasn’t yet fully set in your mind. 
Right now, I’m at Baratie.  Which, of course, is delightful because I adore Sanji and getting back to his first introduction, now that I’ve had all the ups and downs of loving him, is wonderful. 
Something stood out to me that I didn’t quite catch the first time through. 
So, Don Krieg, right? 
There’s an old fable that takes two slightly different variations.  In one, a scorpion asks a frog to help him cross a swollen stream.  The frog says, “But you’re a scorpion, you sting.”  And the scorpion answers, “Why would I sting you when you’re carrying me across the stream?  I would drown.”  So the frog agrees to carry the scorpion across the stream on his head.  When they reach the far bank, the scorpion stings the frog.  As the frog is dying, he asks the scorpion why, and the scorpion answers, “I am a scorpion. It is in my nature to sting.”  
The other variation involves a woman finding a snake that is freezing cold, and warming it up inside her bodice.  It’s the same story, with extra boobs.  “I’m a snake; it’s in my nature to bite.”  
The moral of the story is that you shouldn’t expect gratitude out of a poisonous creature, and those with a bad nature will continue to perform bad acts.  It isn’t an invalid moral -- there’s a lot to be said for not wasting your time or energy on toxic people -- but it does raise the idea that generosity is situational. 
There’s a post I’ve seen going around -- I can’t find it right now, because of course I can’t, but if anyone else can dig it up and shoot me the link I’ll edit it in here -- about Zoro’s confrontation with Mihawk during this arc, about how Oda doesn’t have characters mouth his own moral perspectives but instead rewards them for standing by their own moral convictions no matter what. 
That’s exactly what Sanji does here.  Gin shows up, hungry but unable to pay.  We’ve just seen Patty exercising his “customer is king” moral stance, which excludes the broke Gin from that obsequious treatment. To Patty, you’re a customer or you’re not, and only one of these deserves his regard.  To Sanji, if you’re a hungry person, you’re a hungry person, and everything else is irrelevant. 
Then Gin brings Don Krieg, and the immediate response is panic.  Don Krieg is terrifying, he’s a monster, he’s a saboteur. He will lie his way onto your ship and then kill you and take it. That is his nature. Don’t feed him, they say. Don’t help him. He deserves to die, he deserves to starve to death. 
Of course Sanji doesn’t stand for that.  He immediately goes and brings food and drink for Krieg. And what does Krieg do? 
He eats, he drinks, and then he stands up and announces he’s taking Baratie. The scorpion stings the frog who carried him across the stream.  The snake bites the woman who warmed him up in her bosom.  
And yet, Oda doesn’t call Sanji a fool (although some of the customers and cooks do).  Sanji is not portrayed as being weak, stupid, or gullible for following his moral compass, for showing charity where it wasn’t deserved.  Sanji’s generosity is a moral stance; he feeds others because it is right, not  because they pass any qualification test. 
Krieg repaid Sanji’s kindness with betrayal. That’s not Sanji’s flaw; that’s Krieg’s flaw, and at the end of the  battle, we see that traitorous mindset come back to bite Krieg as his own crew betray him in turn. 
Moral choices are just that -- choices -- and Krieg could have chosen to do differently.  But he didn’t. 
To Sanji, standing by a starving man and withholding food is a cook’s shame.  To Zoro, scars on the back are a swordsman’s shame. These are both, fundamentally, the same moral stance: 
Turning your back to what you should face head-on is your shame, they both say.  To Sanji, it’s those whom he could save with the food he makes.  To Zoro, it’s the foe he must defeat.  And even when turning your back would save you, and plunging forward risks your life, you make that choice and accept the consequences.  Zoro doesn’t retreat from the battle with Mihawk, even when it’s clear he’s utterly outclassed; Sanji doesn’t let Krieg starve, even though the man brings violence to his home. 
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nellie-elizabeth · 4 years
Text
Modern Family: Pool Party (11x04)
It was certainly fun to hear Lizzo. And there were a few cute things here.
Cons:
If this show makes one more stupid joke about young people being "triggered" I am seriously going to blow a gasket. And yes, I'm aware of the irony. I hate that Modern Family has decided to repeatedly mock the idea of people trying to be more accepting and understanding. It's such a cheap shot.
Same thing with the repeated references to Gloria's tough life back in Columbia. There's some gag in here about how she worked for someone as a shake-down artist and as a reward, her cousin got to keep one ear. It's just like... come on. Is this what we're doing? Really?
I didn't hate Claire's plot thread with Alex and Haley, but I didn't like the specifics of what they chose for the workplace catastrophe. Apparently the company's "Smart Closets" have been taking videos of people without their consent, while they are undressed. This feels like a bit too sensitive of a topic to really be tackled in such a casual way... it feels like the writers realized that privacy concerns in a digital age are a thing, and then thought that just putting in a reference would be enough to "comment" on it. You actually need to have something to say.
Pros:
Racist jokes about Columbia aside, I did like Gloria and Phil's plot thread. A sign in front of one of the houses Phil is trying to sell keeps going missing, and while Phil investigates possible saboteurs, Gloria tracks down the culprit using a tracker from Stella's collar. Turns out, the son of the family who currently live in the house had been stealing the signs because he doesn't want to move. I liked the wacky shenanigans of Phil's investigation, juxtaposed to Gloria actually being the one to solve the mystery. It proves that she's willing and able to go the extra mile, and she has an actual passion for this work. As an added bonus, Jay realizes that he needs to accept the change in their dynamics, and be there for Gloria as she pursues her career.
I like seeing Claire trying to encourage her daughters to have careers. It's pretty basic stuff, but it's important that women know they aren't limited in their life choices by motherhood. If Haley wants to stay home with the twins, that's great - as long as she's sure she's not doing it just because she feels like she should. And even though it was played as a joke, I liked the moment when Claire talks about how it was the fashion back in the day to stay at home and resent your kids. She likes having her career now, and wants to emphasize that to Haley and Alex both.
And while I wasn't super thrilled with the actual content of the work disaster, I did like the joke of the young and incompetent lawyer not knowing how to handle the situation. That felt very hashtag-relatable. And Claire got to give an actually competent motivational speech about what she loves about her job, which was a nice moment for her character.
I really like Lily as a character. I might be in the minority on that one, but whatever. Even when as a little girl the actress wasn't always the most solid performer, I think the one-liners they write for her are ridiculously charming and funny. Of all the child characters this show has had over the years, Lily's motif of being kind of a jerk to everyone is my favorite. And I like the way she indulges her over-dramatic parents. She's a young teen, so she's going to roll her eyes and fight against them sometimes, but she actually respects and loves them, too.
This plot thread, with Cam and Mitchell trying not to be hypocrites while hiding at a pool party, after giving Lily advice about confidence, was pretty basic. But it was basic in a good way - a message about loving yourself and being confident in your own skin is never a bad thing, and I feel like we rarely see that message when it comes to men. Obviously our society puts a lot more pressure on women to conform to certain beauty standards, but that doesn't mean that men don't have insecurities about their bodies. It was a predictable punchline, but actually a little sweet and charming, to see Cam, Mitchell, and the rest of the insecure men at the party emerge in their swim trunks, walking in slow-motion to Lizzo's "Boys" while Lily looked on with a big smile.
That's all I've got for now. This was a perfectly acceptable episode of Modern Family. I'm still just kind of riding the wave until this show ends, but that doesn't mean there's nothing good left.
9/10
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caroline18mars · 5 years
Text
A Man On Fire - Chapter 35
From: HCDeRobiano
To: BJLCubbins
Subject: Walk walk walk walk walk
Jared,
Stop calling me because I'm too busy right now, too busy walking this mess out of my system, I have no fucking clue if it's working or not, but if and when I find out, you'll be the first to know. My arms and my shoulders hurt like hell, so if you don't mind I'll stop tapping on this stupid screen right now!
Ignore the bitchy mood, I'm not angry at you, no I LOVE YOU!
Coco
Oh thank god, finally! She had just walked off after the whole Sean thing without another word, he'd been looking everywhere and blowing up her phone but complete radio silence was his part, until now.
From: BJLCubbins
To: HCDeRobiano
Subject: Re: Walk walk walk walk walk
Babe,
Saying 'I LOVE YOU TOO' doesn't even cover what I'm feeling right now, so stop walking and let me catch up with you, but first I need to know where the fuck you are.
Jay
Harper stopped in her tracks when she heard 'his' beep, how the fuck am I supposed to know where I am, it's not like I know my way around here, wait where did I come from? Did I see anything on the way here? Left or right? Oh fuck this, I'm lost..again! Will you stop being all impulsive Coco? Fat lot of good this is doing anyway!
Jared rolled his eyes and sighed when he got her e-mail, right ok, she had no clue, this pure..wonderful, beautiful, irritating..at times..lunatic of his, try and be mad at this girl I dare you!?
Mumbling profanities she stopped, oh fuck this was useless, I don't even know the name of the hotel we're staying in, how can I possibly expect to find my way back then? My way back to where? Go sit down, across the road there's a coffeeshop, you've been walking for half an hour now, enough getting lost for one day. Did it ever stop snowing in this country? Even for a second would be nice, because she was so cold and soaked and she desperately needed to pee and then call Jared, come on red light, will you turn green? Ah finally the little green man popped up, she hopped over the icy puddles, her sneakers were soaked through and through, ooooohhhhh, she almost slipped treading on a spot of ice but was rescued just in time by a hand that grabbed her arm and was pulled against a hard chest. “Oh I'm so sorry, entschuldigung, Ich kann so unbeholfen sein..” she blurted out, was that even a correct German sentence, and why did she even care about spelling right now? “alright, that came out a little too smoothly, I hope that is not some pick up line in German”. Hearing his voice startled her and she spun around, “Jay?! Oh god!” she immediately jumped in his arms, he was here, he had come to save her once again “how did you find me? I was so lost and I was on the verge of panicking, and..”.
Carhorns honking silenced her and he quickly dragged her to the safety of the curb, “I'll always find you, where you are, no matter how much you're lost, I'll always find you” he whispered as he cupped her face between his hands “with the phone tracking app I got installed on my phone” his lips curled into a smile before he plucked a kiss from her mouth. “You're such a romantic..” she huffed with clapping teeth, “I am, I'm a hopeless romantic with a smartphone..” he giggled “and coffee, coffee is romantic too,right? Come on, let's get you inside”. Heads turned, whispers buzzed around them as they walked inside the warm, crowded coffeeshop, but he ignored it all by oozing 'distance', he didn't make eyecontact with anyone but her, making her feel like she was the only woman to him, she could have sworn she heard a collective gasp when he kissed her tenderly in front of all these people, before she finally shrugged off her wet coat and sat down and he went in search of coffee. “Extra caramel and extra honey” he put down the steaming mug in front of her, “yay” she rubbed her frozen hands together in delight before she almost burned them on the mug and he sat down next to her putting his arm around her shoulder. “I wasn't kidding you know, I'll always find you” he nuzzled her wet hair while she pulled up her legs and snuggled even deeper into his embrace, “Shayla..and.. Sean..did you..?” she almost puked the names. “Yep..fired both of them” he put his chin on the top of her head and she felt him tense up, “what a mess..because of me you no longer have a roadie or a PA, I'm so sorrry, babe..” she suddenly felt really uncomfortable and sat up to sip her piping hot coffee. “I no longer have a roadie or a PA because of them, not because of you, you hear me? I don't care about either of them, as long as I have you, that's all that matters, you can be my PA and/or roadie” he sat up too trying to get her to look at him. She took a deep breath before she faced him shaking her head “I don't..know if I..whether I..” she tried to push the words out, oy this was so hard.., “I don't know if I'm cut out for these kind of jobs, darling..I don't know if I want to be on your payroll anymore, it complicates things..I just want to..” oh please don't look at me like I'm some kind of saboteur. “You want to what? What do you want to do?” he whispered, this wasn't easy for her he could tell, “Paint, paint, paint and then paint some more” she leaned forward and gently banged her head in frustration against the table before she straightened her back again and gave him a look of despair “I know it's ridiculous because logistically it's a disaster, I can't be dragging all these large canvases all around Europe, anyway, forget I said anything, it's ridiculous and impossible..so I'll continue being your roadie, because being your PA is one huge no-no, I'm not gonna be bossed around, not on a professional level anyway!”. 
How the hell did he ever deserve such a beautiful, headstrong, fierce firecracker? “you had me worried there for a second” he grinned and pulled her close again “seriously though, I do understand your frustration, I hate how my career is putting your career on hold, I'll make it up to you, I promise, the minute we get some time off, we'll be on the first plane to New York, we'll lock ourselves up, you'll paint, we'll make love from dusk to dawn and I'll make absolutely sure to boss you around the bed too” he grinned “we'll have dinner, go for long walks..it'll be just us, how does that sound?”. Harper turned her head to face him “sounds absolutely wonderful, when do we leave?” don't get your hopes up too much, she had checked the band's schedule, and it was absolutely packed, leaving little time for some kind of getaway..oh well, wasn't his career far more important than her splashing paint around? He made millions and had millions of fans around the globe waiting for him to get up on that stage and give them the time of their life..what did she do that was so bloody important? Exactly!
”Next time you plan another tour, can you please plan it in the middle of summer or somewhere in the southern hemisphere? Because I can't take much more of this snow to be honest” she grumbled as she looked out of the window where the city was rapidly covered by another white blanket. “If you've lived in Southern California for practically half of your life, like I have, then you actually adore snow” there was that familiar twinkle in his eyes, something she had been missing the last couple of days. He picked up on her sudden nervousness, rolling another hot cup of latte between her hands while she drifted away deeper into her thoughts, “what is it?” he kissed her temple, hearing little gasps around him, he turned to look at the room, oh great they had an audience..for the first time in his life he didn't give a flying fuck, they could watch all they liked, he was so proud to be here with her, and show the world that she was actually his, he even pulled her a little tighter. Ah the phones were out, tomorrow they would be all over the internet for sure, didn't matter, what did matter was this beauty right here. “Oh nothing..just what you said..that's where our lives are so different..you're all settled and I'm so restless..I've got so much to do and I get so easily distracted here, there's you..there's this tour..Sean and Shayla..my parents...” she breathed. Ok, her honesty was unexpected and took his breath away “don't you want to be with me? I mean, the tour only just started..I know you're homesick but like I said: I promise you we'll go back to New York as soon as possible, I'll have Shayla check my schedule and..” he rattled, his mind racing to try and come up with a solution for her, make her stay, whatever you do make her stay, you can't be on your own again.
“You just fired Shayla, remember?” she rolled her eyes at him and reassured him immediately “it's not that I don't want to be with you, I love you, you know I do! it's just been a little bit too much..”. What she said didn't even begin to reassure him “are you leaving me? I'll do whatever it takes but I don't want you to leave” he suddenly sounded really serious, “I'm not leaving you, Jared, I didn't say that..I just need space..I can't explain it..” she started stumbling over her words as well. “Space? Define space..we haven't even been together for a month and you already need space?” please no, I've only just found you, I can't lose you, “You know what? Forget I said anything, I'm just..pfff” she fought to stay calm, he really didn't understand, did he? why did she even bring this up?. He picked up their cups and stood up without another word, heading for the counter, watching him leave and seeing the anger and level of upset just by looking at his back almost made her physically sick, come on Coco, don't fuck this up again. Count to ten, take a deep breath, he picked up the cups of coffee and slowly turned to walk back, don't lose your patience, you've both been under a lot of stress lately and there's absolutely no point to start taking it out on each other. “That's yours” he put down the steaming caramel latte in front of her and sat down next to her again, but there was no arm folding around her “Thanks” she looked at him but he just stirred his coffee. “I don't need space from you, Jay..that's not what I meant..uhm..ok, lately I've been feeling pretty disconnected from myself..like what you said just now about living in one place for so long..”. Finally he turned his head and made eyecontact with her “I..” he started but she put the tips of her fingers against his mouth “it got me thinking..within two days we'll be in Italy, right? So, maybe it's time..time I went and confronted my parents”. The shock in Jared's eyes said it all, this wasn't her smartest move, she knew it and he knew it too, “I have to try, Jay..no matter the outcome..it's been weighing on me for far too long and it needs to stop” she swallowed hard, here went absolutely nothing “will you come with me, Jared?”. His arm slipped around her waist and he finally pulled her closer “of course I'll come with you” he breathed his answer against the swell of her full lips “I'm sorry I freaked out..I know we haven't been together that long but I just can't imagine my life without you in it anymore”.
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anon-e-miss · 6 years
Text
A Matter of Convenience 8
It occurred to Jazz, rather belatedly that he had not planned for where Prowl was supposed to recharge. There was a sinking feeling in his tank.  Maybe, maybe down the road recharging with the mech would not seem so nauseating, but right this nanoklik the Polihexian could not imagine doing it. Next ‘cycle, he would take the Twins to the store, and pick out berths for Blue and Smokey, next dark-cycle, Prowl could maybe borrow one of those. Sure, it was only delaying the inevitable, but that was not automatically a bad thing. For this dark-cycle, Jazz did not think he could just let the Praxian have the couch, the mech was fragging injured. He would have the berth, Jazz would have the couch, that would work. Unless his berth was too firm or too soft or… just what were Praxian berths like? Where they like Seekers or what?
He really had not planned this. Saving Smokey and Blue from a rotten situation, and in the same measure guaranteeing that the Twins would be cared for in his absence, had been all that had been on his processor. Jazz had not really considered what it would mean for him, neither had he considered what it would mean for Prowl. Though the saboteur had a reputation for winging it, his second and best friend could attest to long orns long planning sessions coming up to missions. There was no question Jazz was good at thinking on his peds, he did not go into his missions with nothing more than an endgame in processor. This? This situation he had thrown himself into? No, he had not thought this through at all.
Realistically speaking, he could still back out. Jazz could still pay for a lawyer, get some housing sorted out, and it would probably end up okay. But that would not solve his fears for the Twins’ futures should anything happen to him. His younglings were being so good, they seemed to really have latched on to the idea of having their Praxian friends as their quasi-brothers, and that might have been what was keeping the Polihexian from backpedalling. For some reason he did not yet understand, they seemed to need this, need Blue and Smokey, and so Jazz held his ground, and his glossa.
Prowl was silent. Maybe he was in pain, or maybe he was scared, or sad, or any number of things. His brothers had spoken about him to the Twins more than they had to Jazz. All the progenitor had ever really known about his creations’ friends was that they guardian, their brother was an Enforcer, a no nonsense mech whose job kept him away more and more. It had been Bluestreak that had murmured about missing Prowl, not even so long ago, quartexes, no long before their habsuite had been destroyed. They had been oddly silent about that, about the custody battle, about the death of their originator. As far as Jazz knew, they had not mentioned it to the Twins. Could their guardian have asked them to keep it quiet, or had they simply been too stressed to speak about it. That made the most sense to Jazz, because speaking about it would have made it more real.
“Um… we didn’t know what you like… Prowl,” Sideswipe said, looking at Prowl. He had a pair of cubes, one in each servo, Sunstreaker followed behind, carrying another two cubes. “Smokey said sweet… Hopes this is okay.”
“Thank you, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker,” the Praxian replied, he took his cube from Sides, as Sunny gave Jazz his. “I am not picky about my fuel. I have no doubts this will be fine.”
“Thanks, brightsparks,” Jazz said. “Ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout thinkin’ up all yer questions on the spot. Ya got time.”
“They never told us they were ‘sposed to be leaving,” the red twin said. “No until they should’ve been gone.”
“I do not believe Smokescreen and Bluestreak wanted to believe the court would rule against me,” Prowl replied. “They do not have fond memories of Barricade.”
“What if the court still says no?” Sideswipe asked. “Are you gonna accept it?”
“No,” the former Enforcer said. “I would, I will appeal if necessary, until they are with me… I suppose with us, permanently. They are Praxian in frame, but Iacon is their home.”
“What about you?” Sunstreaker asked. “Blue said you lived here for vorns, that’s why he never met you. You never went home? Not to meet your brothers?”
“I was not entirely welcome in their home,” Prowl explained. “I went to school in Simfur as a youngling, and attended the Academy in Iacon. Praxus has not been home to me for a very long time.”
“Because their origin wasn’t yours?” The brash twin asked. “That’s what Smokey said. We aren’t yours, that gonna matter to you?”
“No,” the Praxian said, and it was so unequivocal, Jazz actually believed it. “I will treat you equal to Smokescreen and Bluestreak. I am not fun, I am, however fair.”
The conversation went back and forth, no necessarily easy, but not tense either. A couple of time, both his twins questions took accusatory tones, but every time Jazz thought he might need to jump in, to act as moderator, Prowl even answers seemed to take the ease it off. He painted himself as a devoted, but imperfect guardian, and he may not have known it, but the lack of self-praise was earning him some points with the younglings. As their questioning eased off, the Praxian added his own: their favourite subjects at school, their favourite games with Bluestreak, and Smokecreen. Art was Sunstreaker’s favourite class, athletics was Sideswipe’s. It came as a bit of a surprise to Jazz that Sunny was actually truthful, but then he saw the flare to his creation’s plating and the defiance in his optics.
“I have great admiration for artists,” Prowl replied, and the progenitor was again surprised by the Praxian’s answer. “I have no creative talents to speak off.”
“What was you favourite subject?” The yellow twin asked.
“Science,” the Praxian said. “Followed by math.”
“Never heard someone admit that they liked math,” Sideswipe replied.
“I can assure you I did not admit it at your age,” Prowl said. The three Polihexians laughed.
“Probably wise,” Jazz said. “It was music for me. Hated lit. Never much cared much for analyzing poems ‘n stories.,. But I really hated math, those rules for rules… Gah. Ain’t be a great help to the mechlings, right?”
“You’re more hopeless than me,” Sunny said. “That’s why you have Mirage manage your credits.”
“Hey! I have a financial advisor,” the saboteur countered. “That Mirage picked out. And I pick his processor for stock tips… ‘N for the record, I can count!”
“Ya, you’re pretty hopeless,” the mischievous twin said, and grinned. “History is fr… is boring. It’s the same sl… over and over. I hate writing essays defending what some idiot thought was a good idea a millions stellar-cycles ago but was really probably pretty stupid.”
“Perhaps the next essay you are assigned, rather than argue in favour of the act, but counter argue why it was flawed,” Prowl suggested. “It will generally fit within the guidelines of the assignment, and a well crafted counter argument is infinitely better than a poorly crafted argument in favour.”
“Hmm,” Sideswipe hummed, and he grinned. “That’s an idea… Might ruffle some plating too.”
“I apologize, Jazz,” the former Enforcer said, looking just a little uncomfortable.
“Nah, I like it,” Jazz dismissed the apology. “Don’t want’em thinkin’ they gotta be puppets. What didn’t ya like?”
“Oration, and fine arts,” Prowl replied. “I am not an adept public speaker, and I have approved in adulthood, I was hopeless as a youngling. It you need assistance with your math assignments, or classwork in general, I would be pleased to assist.”
“Thanks,” Sunstreaker said. “Sometimes Smokescreen helps me. He’s not an after about it, so that’s cool.”
“I am glad that he has been able to assist you,” the Praxian replied.
“I know Smokey don’t like school in general,” the Polihexian said. “But since he showed me his last report card, ‘m thinkin’ it’s more ‘cause he’s bored.”
“Smokescreen does best when he is challenged,” Prowl confirmed. “He is not agreeable to doing work for work’s sake.”
“What about Blue?” Jazz asked.
“He struggles with public speaking, as I did,” the injured mech explained. “And he is not fond of athletics. I believe he is intimidated by his classmates, and the sports they play.”
“Funny thinkin’ o’m havin’ stage fright but now ’m thinkin’ he’s a nervous talker, ain’t he?” The saboteur said. "Maybe I can help’m a bit. Was on stage wit a lot o’ different mechanisms ‘n learned a few tricks.”
“He and I would be grateful for any assistance you might be able to provide him,” Prowl said.
It mattered that Prowl had expressed an interest in the Twins, that he had offered to tutor Sunstreaker, and oh how it mattered that he struck the progenitor as sincere. Jazz was second guessing his impulsive offer less and less. Though it remained to be seen how well this was going to work between him and the Praxian, he was beginning to really think this was, if not the right move, at least not the wrong one for the Twins. Richocet would attest to what a terrible student Jazz had been. Not because he had really struggled at all with the subject matter, but the stillness. Jazz had always been meant to move. The educators at the youngling centre had not liked his fidgeting, or his smart-aft commentary. He had been the class clown, even in music. The old classics were fine, but the former performer had always preferred groovier beats. They had learned to never give him solos, because he had always done his own thing, consequences be damned. Of course it had worked out well enough, Jazz had been a headliner, until he had decided he did not love life on tour, and when he and Free Wheeler had decided to bond, had decided to have a family right away, touring had seemed like a lousy idea.
Rather than miss the stage, Jazz liked being able to perform when the mood struck him, instead of when a tour manager decreed it. Adulthood had not stopped the Polihexian naturally inclination to thumb his olfactory ridge at authority figures. It was funny thinking of himself as planning to bond with one such mech. Though Prowl looked every bit the Enforcer, even without the insignas he would have only had stripped, he was a misfit, by his own admission, and misfits were exactly the sorts of mechanisms that Jazz had always attracted. Free Wheeler had been a pacifist at spark but a soldier by career. Mirage was a noblemech who preferred to work for a living, the list went on and on. When he thought of it that way, the former Enforcer fit his pattern.
“Power Run’s gonna be by in a bream,” Jazz explained to the younglings. “I don’t think it’s gonna be your scene. When he turns up, why don’t ya have a tournament in yer berthroom.”
“Sounds cool to me,” Sideswipe said. “Bet I’ll cream you, Sunny.”
“Don’t call me that,” Sunstreaker retorted. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with you. Like always.”
The banter escalated as the mechlings raised immediately for their berthroom, not bothering to wait for the lawyer to arrive to make their exit. Jazz smiled. To an outsider it would have seemed like the Twins loathed each other have the time. They teased each other mercilessly, and physically tousled maybe more often than most brothers. But for whatever reason, this was how they communicated with each other, it was how they loved each other, how they always had. This was one of the things that had actually survived the living Pit in Polihex. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were still the Twins, still two halves of one spark.
“Math?” Jazz asked once the Twins had gone to their game.
“I liked the order and certainty of it,” Prowl replied. “Apart from metaforensics itself, my preferred subject at the Academy was statistics.”
“Ya like findin’ the answer,” the Polihexian said, considering the admission. “Student loans for the Academy woulda been brutal.”
“I took out private loans,” the injured mech explained. “Due to my progenitor’s income, regardless of the fact he was never going to assist me financially, I did not qualify for bursaries, or federal loans. It would have been insurmountable without merit scholarships.”
“Smokey’s made it out like ya got a processor like no other,” Jazz said. “Ya didn’t get a full ride.”
“I had poor marks in enough subjects to make that impossible,” Prowl revealed. “Athletics, and language arts were my worst.”
“Athletic, h’uh?” The saboteur asked.
“I refused to participate in team sports,” the Praxian explained. “Bluestreak is not wrong to be weary of overzealous or blatantly hostile classmates. I preferred not to be a target. My essays were always dull, enough to put a mech to recharge, according to my professor, and my public speaking was that much more atrocious, I did put him into recharge, on more than one occasion.”
“Bet ya had the facts right,” Jazz said.
“I did,” Prowl confirmed. “So far as my research led me. My progenitor may have wished me to be a lawyer, but I would have been a terrible one. There is a certain level of charisma required to excel in that function. He had it, as does Smokescreen, I am severely lacking. I had concerns it would hamper me in the Enforcers. I was not wrong.”
“’Cause even there ya got politics in play,” the progenitor said. “But if y’re right ‘n there’s a serial killer at work in Iacon, Enforcers got a duty to investigate, frag whether or not the victims are addicts or prostibots.”
“I may well be wrong, I do not believe I am,” the former Enforcer replied. “Friends or kin have reported some of those I believe have been murdered missing, others have never had their disappearances reported. Due to their lifestyles, and lack of Autobot ties, investigating their absences is not a priority to Enforcer Command. They have vocalized the belief on more than one occasion that they believe these missing mechanisms have merely returned to their Decepticon or Neutral brethen in other states.”
“I don’t know how much I can push, but I don’t like the idea mech can just disappear, ‘n no one’s botherin’ to look,” Jazz said. “Looks like a pretty big blindspot, somethin’ Cons could exploit if they ever noticed. I might be able to nudge the right mechanisms. At least, I can try.”
“I hope you are more successful that I,” Prowl replied. “Being betrothed to me may hamper your attempts.”
“Maybe from the Enforcers’ angle, but I got audials in Autobot HQ, ‘n those are the Bots I plan on nudgin’,” the saboteur explained. “You said ya got you casefile saved to your battle computer. Think ya might be willin’ to give me a condensed version?”
“If you have a datapad available,” the Praxian replied. “I have a sanitized report, detailing each missing mechanism, when and where they disappeared, where that information was available, and a timeline.”
“Sounds good,” Jazz said, and he pulled a datapad from his subspace, and handed it to Prowl.
The injured mech did not speak, there was no need to. He released a data cable from his wrist and plugged it into the datapad. As a matter of programming, his anti-viral systems scanned the datapad before dropping his firewalls enough to make a two way connection. Prowl already had the desired file pulled up from his orderly memory banks. Though he was confident that the report did not go into too much detail. It was always vital to keep some information back, in case the wrong servos got a hold of it, or if it was leaked to the press. Admittedly, the disgraced Enforcer had considered anonymously giving the report to the media but he had held back. It was his hope that his wrongful termination might be righted, when they finally had to admit they had a serial killer, at least one, preying on the transient mechanisms in the parks, if he spoke to the press, even anonymously, it would come back to him, and he would have to chance of serving any Enforcer unit ever again.
“There,” he declared, and returned Jazz the datapad.
“Ya got some serious processing power, don’t ya?” The Polihexian observed.
“I do,” Prowl said, there was no logic in denying it. “I have an eidetic memory. Even those memories I might erase are save within my battle computer. Very simply, I cannot forget.”
“Sounds like a burden,” Jazz replied. “We all got things we’d rather forget.”
“It can be,” the Praxian confessed. “I make the best use of it as I can.”
Prowl remembered, despite numerous attempts to erase the memories, he could not forget the medicentre in Praxus where his originator had died. As keenly as if he was still there, the Praxian remembered the sounds, sights and smells. Most clearly he remembered the scent of antiseptic, over rust. Corrodia Gravis had stricken his originator, and had spread rapidly through his systems. Camshaft had had no siblings, his procreators were long dead, and Goldfire’s systems were not compatible for the spark boost that might have slowed the disease, or put it into complete remission. There had been no time to search for a donor amongst friends or strangers. There had been on match, Prowl had convinced a nurse to test him, and he had been a perfect match for his originator, but the medics, and his progenitor had been unwilling to allow the second-tier youngling to boost his originator, arguing that he was too young, the possible complications to risky to chance. Risks be damned, he had been willing, determined really to save his originator, and to prevent him from wearing some nurse or medic down, his progenitor had barred him from the hospital, and Camshaft had died. As an adult, Prowl might have respected the medics’ duty to safeguard him, but maturity and reason still did not enable him to forgive those medics, or his progenitor, and he likely never would.
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spacebrick3 · 6 years
Text
WHG Duo Prompt 2: Anechoi and VALENTINA
This is prompt 2 for @ratracechronicler‘s Writeblr Hunger Games! Our favorite saboteur and AI return, this time facing the stresses of the Reaping! (Also, @breakeven2007, I mentioned Sara and Rochelle here - I didn’t know much about them, since I was writing without wifi, so I hope I did it alright)
I shuffled into line, muttering a few apologies under my breath and hoping they didn’t come out too garbled. I got more than a few strange looks, being a grown woman in a crowd of teenagers, but I don’t think I looked that much older than some of them. No, you definitely look older, Valentina told me. 
You can’t see, I replied.
Well, you feel older. From inside. 
I ignored that last comment and instead focused on the stage. Some Capitol official was talking up there, gesturing to the big screen and waving his arms wildly. They had forgotten the sign language translator again - one was supposed to be there, but the Capitol tended not to care that much. I rolled my eyes. Hey Valentina.
Oh now you want to talk to me? she asked snippily.
Shove it. Can you patch into the the audio feed and give it to me? I asked her. ‘Cause they lost their translator again and I want to know what they’re saying.
There was a huff from the AI, but after a second a buzzing noise came on inside my head. It grew in volume until I could make out the Capitol guy talking through it. I winced at the static, but didn’t comment on it.
“-this new format will surely bring even more, even better excitement and fervor to the Games!” he was saying. “And now-“ the feed cut out for a second and I missed his words “-to select the tributes!”
Already? Valentina asked. I thought there was a bit more buildup than that. The Capitol does love their theater.
Shut up, I told her. Maybe they did it before we got here. Didn’t give us much leeway time, did you?
Hey! I was just as much in the dark as you were until that alert!
Yeah, yeah, sure you fucking were, I replied, trying to focus on the announcer’s words. He was making a big show of picking the first tribute, pacing back and forth along the stage and trying to rouse the crowd. Since any applause or cheering just created more static for me to listen through, I wished he would stop.
Finally, he raised his arms once more, then placed a hand into the sphere. “Our first tribute!” he called, spotlights flickering on. They waved around the stage once before coming into focus on the sphere. Every ball in there glittered with reflected light, making it impossible to read anything on them. “Is!” He plucked the ball out, and I felt my muscles tense. I knew it was a small chance. But it was still a chance. “SARA-!” I missed the rest of his words as static roared on the feed.
Phew, I told Valentina as I watched a man step up to the stage. There was another call from the announcer, and a woman ran up besides him. The new accomplice rules, maybe? I tuned back in. “-looks like Sara won’t be going to the Arena alone, folks! Let me welcome you all to his first and only ally there, folks, I give you ROCHELLE-“ Another roar of static as the crowd applauded.
Bad luck, Val commented. Hopefully we don’t have the same.
I had an offhand comment ready, but it died in - well, it died in my thoughts as I realized something. Hopefully? What do you mean, hopefully? I thought there were only two tributes. And that’s two.
I don’t think so. Look, he’s reaching in again, she told me. Sure enough, he was, the spotlights coming on again as he did so. Maybe it’s two tributes, two accomplices.
So there’s going to be four? I asked nervously as I watched him pick the ball. He was shouting something, but I could barely hear through the static. Just don’t let it be Val. Please. Don’t let it be-
I heard his voice, confused and distant. “Er…this reads the Vibrational Audio Locator-“
Oh hell. 
Copy that, Val said. Full on, wholeheartedly agree. 
What do we do now? I asked. I knew I should be panicking. I was being chosen for the Hunger Games, of all things. People died there. Lots of people. Twenty-three out of every twenty-four, to be precise. And one of those twenty-four was going to be me. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit-
Hey. You’re going to be fine, Val said.
Easy for you to say! You’re a fucking computer! You can just upload your stupid fucking software however you want but I’M GOING TO DIE! I shouted at her. 
Hey. Look. One step at a time. Get on that stage, and we can figure it out from here.
I took a deep breath. Alright. I could do this. I could do this. Right? Just take that first step. Just take that first step out of the line, and then keep going up to the stage. Nobody was going to kill me now. This isn’t when the killing happened. No. Don’t think about the killing. Just get on that stage, and stand next to the announcer and look pretty and do whatever the hell they wanted me to do up there. I could do that.
Somehow I made it onto the stage without collapsing into a heap on the ground. The announcer looked at me strangely, pointing to something on the paper, but I’d lost the audio feed somewhere on the route there and was too stressed to read his lips properly. I just shrugged and pointed at my ears, hoping he’d be smart enough to go get a sign language translator. I didn’t think I could handle somebody trying to shout at me when I clearly, obviously, couldn’t hear a word they were saying. It’s not a pleasant experience.
He was smart, luckily, gesturing back to somebody on the stage and then pointing a finger to where I was supposed to stand. I moved nervously over, next to the man and woman - they paid me no notice, already deeply entrenched in conversation. Did they know each other? I couldn’t remember.
Another Capitol official, a man with a thick shock of black hair, walked up onto the stage. He let his gaze drift until he saw me, addressed a question to the announcer, and then walked over, starting to sign. “Are you-“ He checked his notes. “Valentina?”
I tapped the side of my head. “She’s in here.”
“Computer?”
“Yeah.” Hey! Valentina objected. I’m not just a computer. I am an artificial intelligence- 
Fine. Software too. “Seismic and stuff,” I continued to the translator. “Does this mean I’m technically her accomplice? Or do I get any options?”
“Looks like it,” he signed. “New rules and all that. Just gotta confirm, though. You are Anechoi? No last name given?”
I gave him a halfhearted thumbs up. “That’s me,” I signed. “Didn’t sign up for this, but dragged along for the ride anyways. Fun.”
He gave a shrug. “Not really my problem. Unless I need a pacemaker AI or something, in which case it will be my problem, but I’m choosing not to worry about that. But we’ve confirmed what we need to, so if you’ll just come with us-“ He gestured onto the other side of the stage, where the two other tributes - Sara and Rochelle, I remembered - were already stepping off. I followed them.
My modus operandi is to always have a way out. Maybe you can’t finish what you came for, but you can at least retreat, regroup, and replan. Save your own hide first and anything else second. But right here, right now, I couldn’t see that way out. And that scared me. More than I cared to admit, that scared me.
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crestfallercanyon · 1 year
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2, 5, 16 :~)
Hiya!! Thanks so much for the ask <3
2. did you have any writing goals? did you meet them?
Sort of!
My goals were to finish some of my longfics, get started on a major longfic, and explore more characters.
I finished one (maybe two?) of my longfics from the year prior, I did not get started on my major longfic (and that's okay!), and I did explore more characters (and fandoms!) so I think so?
My goals also shifted throughout the year, though, because I began to partake in more events which was a lot of fun! So, no regrets.
5. Favorite line of dialogue you wrote this year?
That's REALLY hard, oof! To give myself an out, i'm going to categorize three separate lines :D
Truly a favorite single line? "We keep a piece of all the monsters we survive; if this meant that we became them, there'd be no good people left." - Derek, Of All My Crimes
Favorite exchange? “If you’re gonna suggest somethin’ like that to me, then you say exactly what you mean. You tell me what you mean by that, Thomas.”  “You know what I mean,” Thomas insists.  “Shucking say it.”  “You’d have to kill me, Gally. You’d have to kill me.” - Gally and Thomas, Look Who's Inside Again
Favorite 'Monologue'? “Gally follows the rules. He makes life easy for himself. He tabs his Bluebook, he writes out all of colloquies even though he’s recited them a thousand times, hell, he labels all of his clothes so he knows what color they are. And he follows the rules. His house? You should have seen it, Newt. It was warm and taken care of and good. I always thought him like a raw material, stone, the crust of the earth, but that doesn’t give him the credit. He wasn’t born of stone, he has built himself, brick by brick, to be the way he is. ... ... I, on the other hand, am a goddamn disaster. And the worst part? After seeing the way he holds himself, I realize that I’m not even a natural one. I’m no hurricane or tornado. I do this to myself. Over and over and over, I am a self-saboteur, I am my own worst enemy. I can’t get out of my own head. I can’t stop acting on impulse, I get into so much trouble. And each and every night my mind cycles through every stupid thing I said, every stupid thing I did, realizing how many holes I’m going to have to pull myself out of tomorrow. And I try to be better, but I always end the day with more, and I keep counting them until it’s just me, driving myself insane until I fall asleep.”  - Thomas, Conflicts of Interest
16. Who was your favorite character to write?
I really liked branching into other fandoms this year!
Allison Argent from Teen Wolf was super fun because she's still both practically a child but also has seen so much, and having her pair with Derek in such an angsty story has been really really fun.
Colin from Bandersnatch was also a kick because I was trying to figure out how to write from the perspective of someone who truly believes in conspiracy theories and alternate realities to the point of fanaticism (which I happen to not). Thomas from TMR may have a one-track mind, but Colin truly believes that PAC-Man's name comes from the term "power and control" (it does not) and is a game meant to be a symbolic representation for a nihilistic perspective on government and how life itself operates.
Thank you so much for the asks!!! (The questions are here) Sorry some answers went long, they just... I have many feels <3
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fallout4holmes · 6 years
Text
Far Harbor 8
We couldn't put off Dima’s plan any longer. Along the way we checked on the status of the Last Plank bartender's uncle, still living out on the island in the Fog thanks to some condensers, and we promised an enterprising young girl called Bertha to clear the old lumber mill of ferals for future settlers. A sole remaining trapper had claimed the mill as his own, but Bertha’s friends should have no trouble chasing him off.
We found Confessor Martin’s private… hermitage, I suppose. According to the tapes we found, Martin truly did have an amicable relationship with the strange synth that had welcomed them to their new home. He blamed himself for not realizing how bad Far Harbor’s hostility had become, and then blamed Dima when his own people turned against him because of Dima’s refusal to help drive the Harbormen off the island. Martin demanded Dima leave the Nucleus, and then when Tektus took over with his calls for blood, Martin retreated into seclusion. A few written notes revealed he was visited by Sister Gwyneth, early in her doubts. He started to believe she was right, and never regained his faith, quietly disappearing.
We returned to Acadia, our prize in hand. Dima was alone in his observatory. It was a… tense, moment. Neither brother was exactly certain how to interact with the other.
“You’ve returned,” Dima said, with some small surprise.
“We said we would. Will these suffice?” I handed him the tapes.
“Yes, these look like they’ll serve. Let me listen…” he smiled softly to himself, “It’s good to hear his voice aga- ah. Some… grim material to work with.” After a few moments, he had copied excerpts onto a new tape. “I take no pleasure from twisting the words of an old friend, but I believe Martin would understand. This tape should pique the interest of the High Confessor, but Tektus is nothing if not wary.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve set a trap,” I took the new tape. “How are preparations coming along for a replacement?”
“The initial stages have gone well. He should be ready in time.” Dima hesitated, but asked, “You said something when we last spoke, when you agreed to this plan. My mind keeps coming back to it… ‘In some corner of Hell, he’s laughing at me.’ May I ask…”
“The Director of the Institute.”
Dima was stunned, “I don’t understand.”
“The Institute used whatever means to their end, no matter the cost, the collateral damage caused. There were no questions of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ only ‘necessary.’ Unfortunately, the wrong of destroying a person often leads to the right of saving many.”
“… and the wrong of letting a person live who shouldn’t?”
“We’re going to find out, aren’t we?” 
He winced. “So the Director is dead. And the Institute?”
“Destroyed.”
“Then it’s over?” Relief and hope filled him, “No more Courser hunts? No more slavery? Oh, but…” as suddenly as it seemed to come, the hope faded to something sadder. “But that also means the technology to make the synths is lost. Our origins have been buried. Not to mention, the loss of human life…” He glanced at us both with some chagrin, “I know that must sound disingenuous given my actions, but -”
“I sounded an evacuation before it was destroyed,” I said. “Everyone had a chance to get out. Not all of them did. It’s a truth I have to live with, that I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”
Dima glanced at Valentine, “Nor should anyone.” He sighed, “I’m sorry if I sounded as though I was judging you. You’ve wiped out a great evil in the world, and knowing the Institute is gone will bring peace of mind to many of my people. I’m grateful.”
We were invited to stay the night before going to the Nucleus in the morning. I think he hoped to have a chance to speak to Valentine, and so I resolved to be close by and listen in, just in case. My partner wasn't going to make it easy on him. And yet, for all his doubts, Valentine still wants to know his brother, this piece of family he never knew he might have had.
So it was with some false flippancy later that he answered a simple, “How have you been, Nick?” with “Haven't woken up discovering any new missing parts in a while, so I call that a win.”
Dima smiled. “I stopped counting the number of repairs I had decades ago. I have bad actuators, frayed wires…”
Whether innate sibling rivalry, or simple relief at a safe topic, Valentine continued the list, “Rusty joints, patched power couplings, and don't even get my secretary started whenever I tell her I literally have a screw loose.”
Dima chuckled, “You know, it's actually pretty nice being able to complain about this with someone who understands.”
Valentine nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Silence settled a moment before Valentine asked, “Dima, why do you even call me Nick? Didn’t you know me from before the personality imprint?”
“We didn't have names inside the Institute. And after the personality experiments started, the only name you ever called yourself was Nick Valentine. If there's another name you'd prefer, I'd be happy to -”
“No. No, I... I like the name. When you wear something for a long time, it kind of seeps into ya, you know?”
“Of course. And yet your… friend, only calls you Valentine.”
“Habit. Calls me Nick when it’s important. So, what happened after the Institute? To you, I mean.”
“After our escape, after the… fight… I eventually made my way here, simply wandering North, hiding on a ship, anything to get as far away from the Institute as I could. Once my escape felt secured, I was left with nothing. No programmed task, no false memories. I spent a year just sitting in a cave. Just sitting. One day, it finally occurred that maybe I could decide for myself what to do, who I was. It was decades before I met another of my kind. At first, I didn't believe it. I thought the person I was talking to was deluded. And then I realized the truth. That we were the same. I didn't know it then, but that's when Acadia really started. And you, Nick? What happened after?”
“Woke up one day in a garbage heap, a body in tatters and a head full of memories belonging to a man who'd been dead for 200 years. Suffice to say it was a confusing couple of weeks.”
“I am sorry -”
“I know. I was still confused, you didn’t want to hurt me, but… anyway. My first human contact in the world was actually a kid. I think his name was Jim. Grilled me for an hour. Once they'd seen I wasn't going to hurt anyone, the other folks in the neighborhood came out to ogle the mechanical man. It eventually turned into a pretty swell soiree. Local mechanic even gave me a once over, free of charge. Those people, they treated me like a human being. I've been trying to return the favor ever since.”
“That sounds wonderful. It's… not what I expected.”
“Don’t get me wrong, took me a long damn time to get a feel for the Commonwealth. Eventually made my way to Diamond City. Plenty of people assumed I was just a saboteur, moving in to melt down the reactor or poison the drinking water. But they couldn't exactly turn me away.”
“Why?”
“Because I'd rescued the mayor's daughter.”
I softly laughed. “I'll never tire of hearing this story,” I said to Faraday behind me. “As you've been standing there a few minutes, I imagine you'd like to hear the rest?”
He sounded a bit embarrassed. “I was going to ask if you were spying again. I suppose you were, but not quite like I thought. I have to say, I hoped Nick would come back. Dima really is glad to see him again. But I don't quite understand why you want to help.”
“I am a man of my word, and I am not in the habit of abandoning those in need.”
We listened for a time. “Did he really pretend to be a bomb?” Faraday asked.
“So he says.”
“No one could be stupid enough to fall for that.”
“Clearly you haven't met many raiders.”
“Um. Well, no, I guess I haven't.”
We were joined by Chase. “What in the world are you two doing?”
We moved away before we could be discovered. “We didn't want to interrupt!” Faraday protested.
Chase rolled her eyes and turned to me, “You're a detective, right? You've had experience finding missing people.”
I must admit, there is a certain comfort that comes with the anticipation of a case. “What's happened?”
“A synth was supposed to arrive from the Commonwealth, but he's gone missing. Brooks in Far Harbor has all the details, he's the one who was supposed to watch for his arrival. Tell him I sent you.”
She gave me Brooks’ unit designation from the Institute, just in case he didn't want to cooperate. Valentine and Dima were still talking. The sun would be setting by the time I reached Far Harbor; hardly an ideal time to track down a missing person, but given the dangers of the island, there was no time to waste. I resolved to head into town at least, and see what Brooks could tell me. I left Valentine to catch up with his brother. I didn’t know if it would help or not, but I think it’s important he get some sense of the old synth on the mountain… and, more importantly, that Dima gets a sense of the sort of man his brother is.
I hurried into Far Harbor and found Brooks cleaning up. The missing synth, a young man called Derrick, had arrived ahead of schedule in a panic. Brooks tried to calm him down but Derrick, convinced he was being pursued, ran off. Brooks was unable to stop him, or find him when he disappeared. He feels terrible about it. The only information he could give me was that Derrick had white hair and had run off down the south road.
“Then I suppose I’ll head south,” I sighed.
“Sure you want to be out an' about in the dark, cap'n?”
I turned and saw Longfellow approaching from the Last Plank, a bottle of whiskey in hand. “The sun hasn't set just yet, and if there's the slightest chance that he is still alive we must move quickly.”
“We?”
“If I had my dog with me, tracking Derrick down would be simple, sunshine or no,” I grinned, “but I’d gladly take a septuagenarian hunter instead.”
“Hmph,” he seemed amused, I think, though honestly it’s hard to tell. “And where’s your friend?”
“Acadia. He’s catching up with his brother, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Brother, huh?” Longfellow was supremely skeptical, but shrugged and said, “Brooks, watch this for me.” He put his whiskey on the counter, “I’ll be back as soon as this young pup makes a fool of himself tracking at night.”
I did not, in fact, make a fool of myself. To the contrary, Longfellow was impressed with my ability to observe details, and only corrected me once when I confused the blood trail of a wounded radstag with the trail of blood we’d been following. Given the nature of the trail, I knew the young man was likely dead… but nothing prepared me for the grisly nature of his fate. We tracked him to a house where trappers had set up camp. They’d eaten him, and left his head among the remains. 
The Institute was gone, what had he been running from? A lone Courser? The Brotherhood? An imagined foe born from paranoia? Whatever the reason for his fear, Brooks had been in no position to stop his flight, through no fault of his own. How many people have died trying to reach a place of refuge?
Longfellow was grim, “Damn shame. Suppose you’ll let Acadia know?”
“Yes. Will you tell Brooks?”
“I’ll tell him. He’ll probably blame himself, even though it’s not his fault. I'll see to him, don't worry.”
I thanked him, and hurried back to Acadia. Chase was distressed to hear the news. This does, in fact, happen often. I don't mean the cannibalism, specifically, but synths being killed en route to Acadia. The island is a death trap for those ill prepared. This place doesn’t need ideals of peace and isolation, it needs practical help for the physical challenges of survival.
Valentine just found me. I'd managed to find an empty spot to sleep for the night, and was writing the above as he sat down next to me.
“You snuck out on me,” he said, perhaps a touch put out.
“I didn't want to interrupt. I found Longfellow in town.”
“Just want to make sure you get home in one piece,” he held my hand. “Chase mentioned something about finding a missing synth?”
I told him what I'd found. He shook his head with a heavy sigh. “This place…”
“Acadia is a worthy idea severely lacking in execution.”
“Considering what they've got to work with, it's amazing they've got this much.” It was true, the resources are limited, the neighbors unfriendly… “If only there were some sort of organization that could lend a helping hand,” he finished sardonically.
I chuckled, “The thought had crossed my mind, but would Dima accept help?”
“It’ll be a surprise, that’s for sure. He’s not fond of the Railroad, doesn’t understand why they’d remove synth identities instead of embracing them, but no one here knows what the Minutemen under their current management are about.”
“It is a bit out of our jurisdiction,” I said with a grin, “but perhaps some trade could be set up at the very least. Did you enjoy talking to him?”
“It was… nice. Strange. He was alone on this rock for a long time before he met another person. He’s… removed from a lot of life. Most of what he knows about the Commonwealth is second-hand knowledge, what he’s heard and stored in his memory banks. I think he got more out of the conversation than I did, listening to stories about the world. I still can't quite crack what makes him tick.”
“Beyond protecting his people?”
“Protecting is fine and good, but every time he mentions ideals and synths having their own culture and way of life… well, that would be nice, but it'll take a long time for that to happen. Not sure the people here are as in it for the long haul as Dima is… or as willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen.”
There certainly seems to be a disconnect. We'll find out soon enough if it's all worth it.
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heartslogos · 3 years
Text
the declassified texts of the inquisition's elite [182]
(929): Wakes up in a cold sweat at 3am, 136 unread messages and the preview on the notification is "I JUST GOT TO THE INCEST PART"
-
(814): I'm dying of laughter, but I'm also just dying
(814): Send help
-
“I am imploring you all to understand time differences,” Mahanon says as soon as the call connects.
“New scandal just dropped, fuck time differences,” Herah replies. “Gaspard’s fucking ruined. Three of his top aides are implicated, and there’s solid evidence to get his chief of staff thrown in prison for at least twenty years, minimum. Did you read the texts?”
“No. The text preview was Trevelyan saying she woke up at three in the morning with one hundred and thirty six unread messages. Do you think that I, being woken up at one in the morning and seeing that from her would care to unpack the rest of it?” Mahanon sighs. “WHy did you call me?”
“New scandal just dropped,” Herah repeats, “Fuck time differences. Besides. It’s not like you were actually sleeping.”
“I was.”
“Are you dying?”
“Get to the point.”
“The point is that Orlais is about to enter full on crisis mode. They’ve got a royal directly in the line of fire to a very, very, very scathing journalistic blitz. Gaspard’s people got fuckin’ cocky. Poor guy. He’s been doing political acrobatics for months now, ever since Briala and Celene started going at it, trying to stay relevant. He’s just lost any chance he has of getting significant numbers in the Orlesian Parliament.”
“I don’t care. Why did you call me? You’re childish excitement at watching a man crash and burn couldn’t wait until it was a decent hour where I am?”
“Spies and saboteurs don’t sleep.”
“I do.”
“You’re dying.”
“If I say yes will you let me go back to sleep?”
“No. I’ll get your sister on the phone.”
“Try it. I dare you. Interrupt her sleep and see how poorly that goes. She almost broke my arm once when I tried waking her up because our house was on fire.”
“Are we talking about the same Ellana?”
“I only have the one sister. Thank the gods. The world wouldn’t be able to survive a second. Get to the point, Adaar.”
“The point, you grumpy spoil sport, is that our work in Orlais is going to double, maybe triple for the next few months. All sorts of shit is going to be coming out of the woodworks for us to snatch up. A lot of people are going to be running for cover and trying to find scape goats before their asses can get set on fire. It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel. How are you not excited?”
“I don’t care about any of these people and I’m tired. I’ve been running around Antiva all day, and most of the night, doing my job. As we all should be. I’ve got to canvas an area the size of Skyhold’s base three hours from now and I’ve got to set up four dead drops. Get back to me when you have something relevant.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Before you hang up — “
“What?”
“Leliana’s just dropped some mission briefs in the coded mailbox. Check them real quick and call dibs before all the good ones are taken. I’m looking out for your best interest here. You’re welcome, you cranky sourpuss.”
-
“Laughing gas,” Stitches says, “It’s just laughing gas. He’ll be fine as soon as it wears off. I’m more concerned about the blood loss.”
“Oh, you and me both,” Krem replies. “I figure that should go without saying. Also Grim’s face looks purple.”
“Lack of air due to laughing. He’s actually fine,” Stitches waves a hand. “We’ve got enough blood for transfusions. Now. This is the part where I ask you if I should ask about the details of what the fuck happened. And this is the part where you very, very carefully weight the importance of every detail against my ongoing sanity and ability to look at any of you with a modicum of respect.”
“Is how I answer going to change how well you treat poor Grim over there? Our possible runaway prince? What ever happened to your doctors code? The something something oath.”
“Oh, I’ll treat him. It’ll change nothing about how I treat him, medically speaking. But in terms of how I look at him as a person? It could be a whole world of difference.”
“You’ve been with us for years, Stitches,” Krem says, “At this point if you have any respect for us left I’d be surprised. I mean. Surely you know we’re fuckin’ stupid by now.”
“And yet, every time I think you lot can’t pull off something even dumber than the last stunt, you find new and creative ways to prove me wrong. So. What was it this time?”
“Chase through a lab,” Krem says, “Do not worry about it. Aside from the laughing gas there wasn’t anything else — well. There shouldn’t have been. The gas was the only residue we could find at the time, aside from Grim’s blood being all over the place. Made for one helluva image, I gotta say. Grim giggling on the floor and covered in his own blood.”
“Delightful,” Stitches deadpans, “But can you tell me any details pertinent to his medical treatment?”
“Well, Stitches. Aside from the fact that he was giggly and turning weird shades in the face and was surrounded in a pool of his own blood? No. I can’t.”
“Wonderful. Get out,” Stitches gestures towards the door.
“Your bedside manner somehow got worse,” Krem grumbles, “I can’t stick around to make sure Grim’s alright?”
“Come back in a few hours when the our emergency room isn’t swamped,” Stitches replies. “I’ve got to go. Grim’s going to be fine. They’re setting up the transfusions now. He’ll be good to go as soon as we confirm his toxicology report. Based on what you’ve said and what we’ve already checked it shouldn’t come back with anything unusual. So. Unless you’ve got anything else? No? Alright. Excellent. Bye.”
“Love it when you get snippy, Stitches,” Krem says as Stitches shoves him towards the exit, “You should be like this all the time. That’s a real Charger attitude.”
“It’s a I-haven’t-had-a-break-in-five-hours attitude,” Stitches replies, “My eyes feel like sand paper right now.”
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reddie prompt! eddie gets cast as the lead in a school play and he has to kiss the main female, richie gets so jealous he does everything in his power to join the cast too and ruin the play
I’ve used this prompt to make a second chapter in my Reddie fic! So bless your heart anon! Head over to Archive of our Own and leave reviews! Or reblog! I love both.
Chapter 2: Here I Go Again by Whitesnake 
Story: It’s Not My Fault
For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13| 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |
Richie was holding his stomach cracking up, “Romeo and Juliet?! You can’t be fucking serious.”
Eddie’s cheeks went bright red. He knew the guys were going to make fun of him the minute they found out about the school play. “Listen, I’m doing shit in AP English and Mrs. Lane told me that if I tried out for the school play, she would give me extra credit. They needed more guys!”
“Of course they needed guys. No one wants to be in that stupid play written by an old dead guy.” Stan cracked up.
Eddie punched Stan in the arm, “All you do is read a book by an old dead guy, Stan. Who do you think wrote the fucking Torah?”
“Who did write the torah?” Richie asked genuinely.  
Stan scoffed at him punching his shoulder, “Shut up, Richie.”
Bill stepped in between them before they started roughhousing, “I’m s-s-sure you’ll be awesome E-e-e-edie.”
“I hate it when you stutter my name, Bill. You sound like Elmer Fudd.” Eddie said in frustration. Then he lightened up, “But thank you, Bill. I doubt it will be a big part. I am the smallest guy in this fucking school.”
“That’s not true. There are some freshman shorter than you.” Stanley laughed.
“I will murder you,” Eddie mumbled.
“Hey everyone! What’s shaking?” Mike came over with Beverly a couple steps behind him.
“Damn Mike,” She huffed out, “You are getting so tall. I can barely keep up with your strides. How’s it going, guys?”
Richie popped up next to Eddie quickly putting his arm around the boy’s shoulders, “Eds is trying out for the school play. I bet you’ll be cast as Juliet since you’re the cutest in the school.” Richie pinched Eddie’s cheek and Eddie smacked his hand away. Eddie did not want to be a lead character where he would have to kiss someone. The only person he wanted to kiss was Richie, but they hadn’t done anything for weeks now. The kiss in the closet felt like years ago.
Beverly frowned at Richie, “Then I can play Romeo because I tried out too.”
“What?!” They all collectively said.
“You did? You mean I won’t have to suffer this torture alone?!” Eddie said euphoric. He squirmed out of Richie’s grasp and grabbed Beverly’s hands gratefully, “Thank fuck. I was really worried the next couple weeks were going to suck.”
Beverly gave him a bright smile and kissed Eddie on the cheek. Eddie felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He felt compelled to look at Richie who had a weird expression on his face like he had been hit by a truck or something.
“What? Eddie’s the only one who gets a kiss on the cheek?” Richie pointed to his cheek stupidly. This made Eddie more annoyed. Richie can’t be serious for one second.
“You haven’t earned it,” Beverly smirked, poking Richie’s cheek hard.
“Bev! Beverly!” Ben came bounding over trying to catch his breath from running. “They…posted…they posted…” He took a deep breath, “They posted the cast list!”
“Oh no, not you to Haystack!” Richie threw up his hands. “I can’t believe almost half the group decided to become actors. Don’t forget us when you are rich and famous.”
“Please Richie, you’re the most dramatic one of all of us,” Stanley said shoving him.
“You’re right Stan the man. I will become rich and famous and forget you all!” Richie put an arm around Eddie’s shoulders again and steered him toward the cast list. “Except you Eds. You’ll live in my mansion and we will have a huge arcade room and eat our weight in candy.”
Eddie’s face flushed, “Don’t call me Eds!” The thought of living together made his stomach flutter.
The seven of them got to the list, which was crowded with other students looking at it. Eddie somehow ended up at the back and could not see over the other heads.
“I can’t fucking BELIEVE they gave Juliet to that slut!” Grete pushed her way through the gathered students. When she saw Beverly, the beast of a girl rounded on her in full rage. “Congratulations. I guess you can cross Eddie Kaspbrak off your list of people you fuck. Although, he’s probably already been there since you hang out with all these losers all the time.”
Grete slammed her shoulder into Beverly, who lost her footing and almost fell. Bill caught her before she fell, “Are y-y-you okay, B-B-Beverly?”
“Fine,” Beverly straightened herself out, eyes downcast. “Thanks, Bill.” She added quietly.
“Well, look on the Brightside. This means you’re Juliet!” Mike said sweetly putting his hand on Beverly’s arm reassuringly.
“Oh god…but that means I am…” Eddie shoved his way to the front and scanned the list. His eyes did not have to go too far.
ROMEO………………….EDDIE KASPBRAK
“Fuck me!” Eddie cried.
“Thanks a lot, Eddie” Beverly laughed.
“Oh no, no. You are great Bev. I just…Romeo. So many lines. I was hoping one of the fathers or the smallest role possible. Not the LEAD.” His breathing became staggered from the stress. He tapped his chest trying to keep the panic at bay. “What the hell am I going to do?”
He looked at the group.
“Quit?” Ben asked hopefully.
“We all know you wanted the role, Ben, try to be more subtle.” Mike bumped Ben jokingly.
“Ask for another role?” Stan suggested.
“It’s j-j-just a play,” Bill remarked.
“Hey! We had our first kiss in a play.” Beverly said mocked hurt.
“All of your suggestions are so weak…wait…it’s too calm and chill right now. Where’s trashmouth?” Eddie looked around and spotted Richie talking to Mrs. Lane. They all wandered a little closer to hear the conversation.
“I’ll play any part! Any at all! Or crew? I’ll work the crew. Please, Mrs. Lane!” Richie practically shouted.
“You should have come to the audition, Mr. Tozier.” Mrs. Lane would not even look at Richie. Eddie covered his mouth to hold back laughs.
“I will do anything!” Richie said desperately. Eddie stopped laughing and just stared at Richie. The boy was not kidding around, he was completely serious.
“Fine! You can be in the ensemble. Now stop bothering me.” Mrs. Lane hurried away so as not to be troubled by any more kids.
“Welcome to the cast, Mr. Tozier!” Beverly lightly punched Richie’s shoulder.
“But why – ” Eddie began.
“I had a change of heart. Now the actors outnumber the Losers Club members.” Richie put his hands casually in his pockets and strolled off to class. Eddie watched him go suspiciously.
*
Week 1 of Rehearsals:
Rehearsals got off to a rocky start. Eddie had a feeling he knew who the saboteur was but could not prove it.
It all started with his script. He lost it the first day, then asked Mrs. Lane for an extra. She told him he was killing trees and to not lose this copy. Then, after he took the time to highlight every line he said, he made the mistake of leaving it in the green room. When he came back, it was on the highest shelf, impossible to get to.
“Who the fuck put it up there?”
“Probably the theatre ghost.” Richie came up from behind putting his elbow on Eddie’s shoulder.
“What are you talking about dipshit?”
Richie lowered his face to Eddie’s ear and whispered, “Didn’t you hear? There used to be a nun that worked here and she died in this very theatre. So whenever people put on shows, she plays pranks on them.”
“Does she now?” Eddie said skeptically, crossing his arms. He was very aware of how his skin was tingling when Richie leaned or touched him in any way. The whispering in his ear gave him goosebumps. They had both been in such a weird place lately, well mostly Eddie was annoyed with Richie, that being this casual once more felt unnatural.  “Well, if I cannot get to my script, I will have to borrow yours.”
Eddie snatched the script from Richie’s other hand and walked off toward rehearsal. That night, he did his best to memorize as much as possible before he lost another script to this ‘ghost’.
*
Week 2 of Rehearsals:
Eddie grabbed his throat pretending to gag, “O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.”
Eddie hesitated, looking at Beverly’s still face helplessly. He glanced around the stage getting more nervous by the second. The hesitation was turning into a really awkward pause but he could not bring himself to kiss her.
“Eddie! For the last time, KISS HER!” Mrs. Lane yelled, throwing her script vigorously.
“I know! I know! But every time I go in for the kiss, the theatre ghost does something.” He put out his fingers to list off the incidents, “First, a light almost fell on my head. Second, the poison had lemon juice in it and let me tell you, swallowing that much lemon juice at once would give anyone a coughing attack and need to take a break. Third, my costume was covered in peanut butter and jelly. I feel like the ghost is trying to make me their next picnic meal!”
“Eddie, we have to get through this. We have not finished the show ONCE and we open next week.” Mrs. Lane sat heavily in a theatre seat throwing some aspirin in her mouth dry swallowing.
“Fine.” Eddie looked at Beverly who winked before closing her eyes.
“O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.” Eddie leaned forward hoping to get the kiss over with fast before anything happened. Suddenly a loud bell rang out indicating the fire alarm had been pulled. He heard the ominous sound of the sprinklers starting. “Oh shit!”
All the kids started screaming and ran out of the auditorium. Eddie helped Beverly up and spotted Richie coming over to them. He was wiping his hand with a cloth but quickly hid it before Eddie could ask what happened.
While they were outside waiting to be let inside, Eddie noticed a spot on the sleeve of Richie’s sweater. Eddie grabbed his wrist.
“What the fuck man!” Richie protested snatching his hand back.
Eddie glared at the taller boy but didn’t say anything. It looked like ink from when you pull a fire alarm.
*
Opening Night:
Eddie was pacing backstage quietly murmuring his lines. There were so many to remember that he was sure he would freeze up and not be able to go on. Beverly came out looking beautiful in her first dress.
“Are you ready?! I am so excited. Bill came early and saved seats for him, Mike, and Stan in the front row.” She was jumping up and down.
Eddie’s face paled. It was starting to get very real, “I’m going to throw up.” He whispered.
She put a hand on his head and turned him to face her, “You’re going to be great.”
“We haven’t even practiced our kiss! What if it all goes to shit?” He took deep, staggering breathes.
“Don’t worry. We got this. I’m an expert now.” Beverly gave Eddie a quick hug then went to find Ben and Richie to wish them luck or ‘Break a leg’ as Mrs. Lane kept telling them to say. Why would he want to break his leg? Stupid theatre terms.
“Hey pal, you ready?” Eddie jumped at the sound of Richie’s voice, which made Richie laugh. Eddie quickly turned away from him; he refused to engage with him.
“What’s up with you?” Richie said kind of hurt.
“You are what’s up with me,” Eddie growled.
“What did I –”
Eddie cut him off immediately, “Richie, why do you keep sabotaging the show?!”
“I’m not –”
Eddie got right up in Richie’s face, “You are and I want to know why.”
“I’m just having a little fun…”
“It is not fun. I have been learning these lines, stupid fucking blocking, not to mention doing blocking while I say stupid lines, and so has the rest of the cast! If you do anything tonight, I swear I am gonna kill you.” Eddie raised his fist up as threateningly as he could be when he was so much smaller than Richie.
“I…I…” Richie looked so guilty and nervous.
“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!” Eddie yelled. Someone nearby shushed him.
Richie took Eddie by the wrist and led him to a secluded area, “Because I don’t want you to kiss Beverly!” He whispered harshly.
Eddie yanked his arm away looking at him incredulously, “Who cares? It’s just a kiss.”
Richie’s eyes flashed, “Yeah, but what if you realize you are in love with her and you guys get together and then I’ll never see you anymore and…and…” Richie said this at lightning speed.
“Rich…” Eddie watched his best friend astonished.
“I know I sound crazy. I just don’t want you guys to kiss.” He said barely audible. “We kissed and it fucking meant something to me, even if it clearly didn’t to you.”
Eddie moved closer to Richie and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He applied some pressure there before watching his hand slide up to the side of Richie’s head as if controlled by someone else. His hand cupped the boy’s round face and he ran his thumb over Richie’s cheek slowly. Richie leaned his face into the touch, cheeks going pink, and gazed into Eddie’s eyes. Neither was sure who initiated the kiss but their lips bumped together.
Richie tilted his head to gain better access, his glasses jamming into the bridge of his nose from the interaction. Eddie let both his hands reach back and lock behind Richie’s neck. Richie could not control his thrill; he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and lifted the boy off the ground spinning them. Eddie squealed into Richie’s lips with surprise but smiled at his ridiculousness.
They pulled apart but kept holding onto each other. “It meant something to me too, ya idiot.”
“Thank fuck,” Richie responded breathlessly.
“Now, can I go on and do this stupid show without you messing everything up?” Eddie looked at him warningly. “I’ll kiss you before and after my scene with Beverly. It’ll be good practice since you made it impossible for me to get it right with her.”
Richie returned the smile, “Yes…I just need to pour out the poison, replace the dagger, and fix one of the legs of the tomb.” Richie ran away.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie stormed after him.
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tetelfuentes · 3 years
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HARMONIZED HUMANITY
    “You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.” – Mahatma Gandhi. In this quote he stated that we must not lose faith in humanity and many people right now lose hope because of loss of connections, when we encounter this we start to feel hopeless and these problems can come from change, death, divorce, and other valid causes.
    What does hope for humanity mean? According to the urban dictionary, the Hope for humanity is a beautiful thing and can create peace. Sadly, it disappeared years ago and is only used when exaggerating but for me, hope is an essential thing to humanity because it is the one that can build our confidence and give us trust in ourselves.
    We are still discovering that the hope of humanity lies not in programs or ideas and teachings. It is that lies at the beating heart of the spiritual traditions in the world have a great work of allowing our actions of the hidden energy of love. A world that is completely puzzled and scarred by violence in religion begins to realize that the earth needs genuine human beings that only the Lord will save us. It is a sign to remember what is necessary for oneself that it is only by coming into a relationship with the inner preeminence of oneself that can be possible to act in a way that can make disparity. Compare to what we are, we cannot love, help beyond at one point to what we are. It is possible to allow new life to enter the life of our violent being, a cruel world. We still don’t have enough ideas about the higher force that humankind is made to acts into the earth. We may be very close to the critical moment. But we are speaking about basics and not just words.
    Why is hope so important in our daily lives? It is important to have hope in our lives because it can make your life much better in some ways. It is not only to make a tough situation or decision more bearable but it can also improve our lives in the way of imagining as a future possibility to have a better future and motivates you to take the steps to make it happen. Whether we think about it hope can also be a part of everyone’s life and all of our hopes for something. It’s an essential part of being a human being. It can help us define or describe what we want in our future and it is part of our lives that we have been thinking inside of our minds. Hope is not just the same as the hopefulness and confidence about the future or the outcome of something. An optimistic generally is more helpful and kind than others. On the other hand, the most optimistic person you will ever meet can still be hopeful for something. Hope is very specific, it’s usually on one issue. Most people connect hope with an awful situation. People hope to avoid and escape difficult circumstances and their problems. It is often that people had to find themselves hoping passionately, but it can also provide the key to make their life even better than before. That’s because they think of something hopeful, the child seeing herself riding a new bike for example it gives a child a moment of joy and happiness. It can make present difficulties much easier to endure all of it. An example of that is reported by the APS or American Psychology Association that children who grow up in poverty but had been successful later on in their life had one thing in a common hope. According to Dr. Valerie Maholmes who worked on this research said hope includes planning, motivation, and determination to get what your hopes for. In this way, having hopes that connect in your past, present, and to the future. We have a vision for what our hope will be supposed to happen, whether it does not just to think of making yourself feel better, and if something you can somewhat control like the kids that are working hard to get out of poverty to have a better life. Hope can motivate you to take whatever circumstances and steps that you take you can do it.
     What makes us lose hope for the humanity? “Society” Humanity implies two meanings, one is the collective category of human beings, and the other one is quality of humanitarianism. So, society defines the second category. Each of the society follows a different criterion to measure this quality based on its values, norms, customs, and traditions. Humans are the products of society and they behave in a particular way since they are socialized in that way. I counter your question with mine. What makes you hope in the humanity, who made you do that? The one which creates that can be destroy. A final clarification of the hopes itself expects something, adding to that you are attributing certain qualities to humanity which are time and culture-specific, so with the different experiences of abnormalities you tend to lose hope in humanity. Problem with your perception (functionalist stand). Capitalism makes you lose hope in humanity because of the increased alienation (Marxist view).
     What makes people lose hope? So here are some possible why people lose hope;
1.Lack of sense of power- When there are problems, and when you can’t find the solution to it, you start to demonstrate ‘learned helplessness’, and lose the confidence in yourself to solve life’s problems. When you feel that you are powerless to steer your own life’s direction, you get overwhelmed, you lose hope.
2. Narrow worldview/Limited Exposure- One environment greatly affects oneself. Perhaps you come from a not as privileged, or dysfunctional family, and only see the worst examples of people and circumstances. Things that make you lose faith in the world, humanity. You learn from your environment that it will be hopeless because it seems as if everyone around you is failing, and if you have some degree of low self-esteem, you will think that you will fail too. If you seek your inspiration from your immediate surroundings and cannot find it, you will feel that it is hopeless. Venture out of your 50cm radius, go closer to your light, to what inspires you. Your favorite artist, why do you like that artist? Think not about what you don’t like, but what you like. In it is I think the clue to doing a complete reversal.
3. Law of attraction- You have been in a pessimistic state for quite a while, and you have attracted many people with negative energies, and things happen to reconfirm your beliefs that life is hopeless when it could’ve been your energy shaping your destiny.
4.Lack of love/self-love/self-encouragement- It is human to get tired, to only care about the pain at the moment, and not be able to zoom out and see the forest for the trees. Conversely, perhaps you are seeing a scary tree and am zooming out to see a forest full of it. At these times, when people are in a stable support network, full of love and warmth, they have that hope and strength to press on. Perhaps you have thoughts you’ve bottled up and not shared with anyone? Perhaps you have no support, you’re weary, and the worst-case scenario, if you don’t even properly love yourself, you beat yourself up thinking you’re a failure! Please don’t do so! And because you’re asking this question in a ‘Why’ format.
5. Loss of self- The world is a noisy place. Recently I’ve just discovered that I’m an Enneagram type 3, someone who wasn’t allowed to be oneself. When you are in a place with strong personalities, you may lose touch with your most inner core, of yourself. What do you define as success? Do you remember what makes you happy? Are your needs being met? What are your needs? What do you need, do you remember? What hope did you want to grasp onto? The hope of what? Are you putting your happiness in someone else’s hands? Are you the master of your fate? Are you banging your head against a wall, in a futile endeavor or dying industry? Why do you think it didn’t work out? Is there a lesson in it? The night is the darkest before the dawn.
     Dark times are richly packed with lessons. Like a crash course. Usually, the same things repeat again and again in life until you get the lesson. You’re strong from all the difficulties you’ve endured. You think you’re weaker from everything bad that’s happening, that the pain will only continue and you can’t take anymore, but the truth is one can only come out stronger from every obstacle. And eventually, I think why you are losing hope, is your mindset. You are your greatest saboteur. I used to be a pessimist, I wished every day to just sleep and never wake up, and there was nothing I looked forward to. But now I try my best to reframe my thoughts and “let go” and I stay in the joyful present. I think life and future, these sorts of things they are uncertain by default, so don’t ‘lose hope’ so fast and make life something so definite, like a given prison sentence that needs to be toughened out. Life hasn’t decided but you decided in weakness. Watching people helping each other to those who are victims in the calamities, and choose to help others before themselves. Sometimes with mass media focusing on the Big and sometimes really stupid (see Kardashian anything for examples) stories that get clicks, it's easy to feel overwhelmed by the foolish and dangerous moves made by those in power, but these aren't the only things going on in the world. When the news gets me down, I deliberately look for the things that uplift me. Videos of cute animals, TED talks, good news sites that collect the beautiful stories…it's important to take time to recharge your emotional batteries so that you don't lean too. These are reminders that all you're seeing is not all that Is.
     Our country has been through many struggles and even challenges and they found a way to reunite and restore. We produce new expectations, current dreams to pursue. It's human nature. Try to become part of the solution. Tomorrow needs your piece toward the better stuff. For humanity, life on Earth is to move on as long as there are hopes that keep us on track in the pursuit of a peaceful existence of the human race.
1. Peace is not just in the physical realm, but also being attained in the spiritual realm.      
2. A balanced global eco-system progressing and revolving orderly in accordance with the laws of Nature.
3. No more sufferings or dying due to hunger.
4. True unconditional equality for all, the awakening to the fact that after all, we are of the same source.
5. Greed becoming meaningless as everyone will treat other fellow humans as part of him/her. In other words, one will see the individuality in every person they meet. A greedy person is extended to the whole means no greed for the self. A selfless greed person will not harm people.
6. No more opinions, attitudes, or judgments arising from man-made differences regarding races, genders, religions, and the like.
7. The laws of the land no longer protecting only the privileged few and at the expense of the underprivileged masses. No more supporting the rich and terminate the poor in the name of justice (fake justice).
8. Permanent global disarmament to be achieved. Arms race among nations will cease to an end. Humans will have a long-lasting peace not because they exist delicate among aggressive nations, but because there is a global sharing of wealth and understanding.
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theofficialcunt · 7 years
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Simplicité - Chapter 4.5
Happy Simplicité Saturday! (Or Sunday, idk what time it is where you are) Sorry that I’ve been so off schedule lately, but I’m gonna try my best to stick to Saturdays (feel free to yell at me if I don’t). Yep, it’s another inbetweener. I felt like there needed to be more info about the aftermath of what happened at Bianca and Adore’s. I promise this chapter is worth it. Thanks to @veronicasanders for being a fucking genius and helping me out a ton with this chapter. ❤️ TW: Angst, eye fucking, cursing. No Bianca this chapter, I’ll be saving her antics for Chapter 5. Enjoy! Have a great weekend everyone!
When Courtney finally made her way down to the parking garage, she finally felt the gravity of what she had just done. She was crushed. She climbed into her Ford Explorer and slammed the door shut behind her, letting out a long anticipated wail. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry until she got to her car, and she was happy in that moment that she had kept that promise to herself. But she still felt like she let herself down by running out of the apartment like that. The whole situation was painfully bittersweet, proud of herself on one hand yet disappointed on the other. Especially since the feelings weren’t mutual, and never had been.
She turned the keys in her car, turning on the radio for background noise before she pushed her seat back. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she rolled herself in a small blonde ball as she wept. She shook violently as she realized Bianca would never love her the way that she wanted her to.
It would never go past a platonic relationship.
She had thought she had come to terms with that after their one night stand, but it was like her heart was cracked back open all over again. She felt good letting herself fall apart for the first time since then, her tears pouring out of her rapidly as her chest heaved. It felt good to let herself feel something other than anger.
It was unlikely that Bianca would even mention this whole altercation at work, so it’s not like anything was really going to change between the two of them. What good did she really do by confronting Bianca?
She was always the one to love more, and that was her problem. She always fell so fast for people, and Bianca was no exception. They had been best friends for so long, and she had loved her.
The problem with Bianca was that no one made her happier than her. She always made her laugh whenever she was feeling upset, and always knew how to lighten the mood.
But at the same time no one could make her sadder. Bianca had so much power over her and how she felt. She didn’t even realize the power she held until it was too late. Until she was heartbroken, crying in her car in the fetal position.
I hate you, I love you by gnash and some girl she didn’t know was playing now, and it was as if they were singing directly about Courtney. As it blared softly in the background, she realized that she wasn’t doing herself any good crying in Bianca’s parking garage in the middle of Chicago. She listened to the song in silence, letting the lyrics sink in as she relived what just happened with Bianca.
She was starting to feel depressed. She hiccuped as she continued to cry, gasping for air as she squinted her eyes shut. She was an ugly crier, much like Kim Kardashian, and never let herself truly cry for fear of wrinkles.
Tonight, she made an exception as she let her face contort in ugly positions. This was about getting it all out. After tonight, she vowed to never let herself cry about Bianca Del Rio again.
Another 10-15 minutes went by, before she started feeling calm again. Not completely okay, but calm enough to start driving.
She didn’t want to go home though. Something in her was feeling rebellious for the first time in awhile. She peered at her gas gauge, noting she had a full tank. That was a sign.
Fuck Bianca and fuck Chicago. She was gonna get the fuck out of here. Being here was doing nothing for her.
Courtney sniffled one last time, before wiping her tears from her cheek as she sat up. She pulled her seat back up, buckling herself in as she turned up the radio. Praying by Kesha was on now, and Courtney turned it all the way up as she sang along to the lyrics.
She let herself cry as she sang the words. Courtney started her car, gripping onto the steering wheel and pulled the car out of the parking garage. She made a few turns and merged onto 55, not sure where she was going but not caring at this point. She was going to go as far away as she could from this stupid city.
As she screamed along to the chorus of Kesha’s song down 55 to 90, she felt a heavy weight lift off her shoulders as Chicago blurred past her.
If she was quick, she could make it to the bar by 11:30. She pressed down on the pedal, speeding down the tollway as she blasted 101.9.
Courtney sang and cried and felt everything she had been repressing for months, and passed the Welcome to Indiana sign. She sighed in relief, rolling down her windows and letting the humidity dance across her skin as she felt the freedom from her inner saboteur.
—–
Earlier That Night
Adore smiled to herself as she closed her bedroom door. Farrah’s number was at her fingertips, thanks to Bianca. She let her hands dance across the screen nervously before she mustered up the courage and texted the number.
Adore: Hey, this is Adore. I hope it isn’t weird that I’m texting you!
Adore placed her phone back in her pocket as she grabbed her bluetooth stereo. She blared Lana Del Rey softly as she let herself plop on her bed for the first time since the morning. She sighed, relieved that she was finally in the comfort of her own room. Alone. She had been around people who literally judged her all day. It had been incredibly exhausting. Honestly, she would do anything for some weed right now - even though it probably wasn’t nearly as good as her California grass.
She laid her head against the pillow, happy to be able to just relax by herself. She closed her eyes, sighing as she let her mind wander aimlessly. Her phone softly vibrated against her a few minutes later, causing her to jump up a few feet in surprise.
Farrah: OMG not at all! Farrah: Is it totally weird that I was waiting for you to text me? Like, I could’ve asked for your number but it just slipped my mind.
Adore’s heart jumped at the thought of Farrah just waiting for a text from her. She could’ve asked Adore for anything she wanted and she would’ve given it to her. With the corners of her lips turned up, she began typing out a response:
Adore: You’re so blonde lmao Adore: Why DIDN’T you ask me for my number if you don’t mind me asking?
After she hit send, Adore bit her nails in anticipation. It was a risky text, a tad straightforward but she just wanted to get the theatrics over with. Adore was ditzy, but she wasn’t stupid. There was clearly something between them, whether Farrah wanted to acknowledge it or not.
Farrah: Because you’re hot ;) Farrah: Also I don’t know that much about you yet and if you’ll rat me out to B.
Adore felt her cheeks warm as she read the first text. Her smile quickly faded to a frown as she read the part about Bianca.
Adore: I’ve known B a few days, I’m no rat haha. Adore: Trust me, out of the two of us you’re the hot one. You’re fucking gorge.
Farrah: You never know. I thought Valentina was cool until she ratted me out to B for smoking weed. Good thing she doesn’t give a shit otherwise I wouldn’t have a job.
That was news. Good to know cranky wine drunk Bianca didn’t care about a little marijuana.
Adore: Who’s Valentina? Omg thank god someone else smokes. Farrah: Oh right, you haven’t met her yet. She’s Bianca’s cousin or something, idfk. She runs the front desk part time. Yesss! Do you wanna smoke with me tomorrow?
Adore felt a weight lift off her chest at the thought of smoking again. She didn’t care if it was midwestern weed, something was better than nothing. In California, she had been smoking every day since she was 17 years old. She hadn’t missed a day since she began, mostly because it helped her anxiety so much.
Adore: That’s not the only thing I want to do with you tomorrow ;)
God, she felt so cheesy typing that out and sending it. But, she wanted to make sure her attraction to her was seen loud and clear.
Farrah: I’m glad the feeling is mutual. ;) Farrah: I’ll see you tomorrow, I have to be at the salon suuuuuper early so I need my sleep!Let’s do something after work tomorrow. Adore: Goodnight!
Her heart was racing as she set her phone down on her bedside table. Adore had something resembling a date tomorrow with the lovely Farrah, and couldn’t be more excited.
She didn’t know how she was going to sleep tonight.
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Courtney arrived in Indianapolis at around 11:30 that night, just in time for open mic night at the club. She fluffed her blonde hair in the mirror, redid her lips with her Kylie liquid lipstick - she honestly hated how much she loved her products. Wiping away the run down mascara and reapplying her foundation gave her the confidence boost she needed.
“I am a fucking force to be reckoned with.” Courtney told herself as she pursed her lips in the mirror, checking all angles of her face to make sure the makeup didn’t run anymore.
I’m fucking hot, I shouldn’t be crying over a girl who doesn’t like me, Courtney thought. She sprayed her Urban Decay setting spray across her face, before closing the mirror on her car window visor.
This was a little crazy, even for her. Who just decides to drive 4 hours to another city in the middle of the night? She snapped a picture of herself in the car for Snapchat, making sure the Indianapolis geotag was underneath her selfie as she published it to her story.
They could all eat her heart out.
Finally satisfied, (and high on adrenaline) Courtney stepped out of the car, and strutted down the busy street towards the club entrance. It was an hour later in Indie then it was in Chicago, so the 12:30 am clock confused her at first until she realized the time difference.
As she flashed her ID to the bouncer, she spotted a very attractive looking blonde a couple of feet ahead of her. Right on cue, the blonde made eye contact with her as she gave her a once over. Courtney bit her lip, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, as the other girl eyed her hungrily, thirsting for the attention.
The girl was beautiful, dressed in a sheer crop top and leather shorts. She had a long torso, and a sparkly belly button ring dangled against her navel as she laughed at something one of her friends nearby said. Her eyes made her way back to Courtney, clearly delighted with the sight as she scanned her body as well. Courtney’s heart fluttered, a warmth reappearing to her face as she let the girls eyes linger.
Finally, she got fed up with the eye fucking, and wanted to see more of this girl. ASAP. Courtney cleared her throat, and confidently strolled over to the blonde and her friends. For the first time in months, here she was not caring about commitments or relationships. Just wanting to have some fun in a city far away from all of that.
Sometimes it was good to be a little self indulgent.
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