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quin-ns · 1 year

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Invisible String (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 3K

Summary: bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower

Tags: 2007 (as seen in ep3), age gap, protective!joel, jealousy, tess isn’t painted in a bad light but she gets her feelings hurt a lil, angst, joel being emotionally suppressed, everyone hiding their emotions actually no one copes normally, emotional hurt/comfort, hugs, pining!joel, hugs, fluff

Request: anon: “hello! i am totally obsessed with your work! i was womdering, if you still take requests, if you can write a joel x reader fic where the reader has a tough exterior with everyone, including Joel, but he knows how sensitive and delicate she is on the inside and behind closed doors. picture this for reference: she had warm water at bill and frank's and she started sobbing uncontrollably, but in front of joel she will always deny she doesn't feel depressed and emotional, but he knows better that this and they both help each other to open up.”

Request: anon: “loved your first joel fic!! if you’re okay with requests can you do another joel fic where maybe tess is jealous of how joel softens around the reader? like he’s not really an affectionate guy but with her he is and tess realizes how he feels about the reader? maybe they’re at frank and bills house and she knows joel doesn’t want to stay but for the reader he will? or something like that it’s up to you- you’re the writer after all”

A/N: so since both of these requests included joel being soft for the reader and them being at bill and franks, I decided to combine them. I liked both concepts and I thought mixing them would lead to something interesting. I feel like there’s more to this story so if y’all want a part two lmk

Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist

When you, Joel, and Tess first met Bill and Frank, none of you had any idea how you’d end up feeling about the two men.

Frank had allowed the three of you to enter their isolated town and introduced them both (okay, nice enough), and then Bill had pointed a gun at you (not so nice). Why you? No particular reason other than that you were his closest target. From that moment Joel wasn’t a fan.

“If you’re gonna point that thing at someone, point it at me. Not at her,” Joel said sternly, his hardened gaze fixed on Bill. The two stared one another down for a moment as Bill quickly identified Joel’s weakness. Tess looked at Joel, working hard to hide the frustration on her face.

He obliged, turning the gun onto Joel.

“Bill,” Frank said softly yet firmly.

Bill glanced at Frank, who was silently asking him to relent. Bill lowered the gun with a huff.

With the hostility out of the way, or at least set aside for the moment, Frank offered you an apologetic smile.

“Would you like to see our home?” he asked as a peace offering.

“We’d love to,” Tess answered at the same time as Joel, who said—

“We actually should be going.”

You didn’t say anything, which caused them both to look at you. Tie breaker.

Tess had a feeling you’d agree with her, but what happened next still bothered her.

You and Joel exchanged a look, having a silent conversation. Joel registered that despite the gun incident, you weren’t fearful. It was only because of that that Joel looked at Frank and nodded.

“Alright,” he changed his answer.

Tess wanted to scream.

Frank seemed relieved and his smile grew. He led the three of you to the large white house that the two men called their home.

“You’re welcome to anything in the house,” Frank said kindly, ignoring the disapproving grunt that came from Bill. “Clothes, medicine, water, food—although Bill will be starting dinner soon—and of course the shower,” he listed off.

Your ears perked up at “shower.” Joel could tell by the way you actually lifted your head. Just a day ago you had been reminiscing on how long it had been since you felt clean. Like, really clean. Hot water, soap, soft towel—you longed for it and Joel knew that.

Frank noticed too. “Shower it is.”

“Thank you,” you said immediately. “For being so kind and sharing your home with us.”

“If I’m being honest, I’ve been bugging Bill for us to find some friends,” Frank admitted to you quietly. “Speaking of which,” he started. “Bill? Maybe you could get our other guests some drinks? I’m going to show—“ he looked back at you.

“Y/N,” you filled in.

“—Y/N to the shower,” Frank finished.

You didn’t hear what Bill had to say, but that was the least of your concern as Frank gestured for you to follow him.

Joel watched as you followed Frank away. He itched to go after you, not comfortable with you being apart from him. He felt incredibly protective over you and maybe it wasn’t the healthiest reaction, but he didn’t like to let you out of his sight. It scared him—not that he’d ever admit it.

“Don’t worry, I think she’ll survive without you,” Tess said sarcastically, smothering the genuine bitterness she felt at the man’s reaction. Joel was never like this before. Well, before you.

Joel threw her a glance, but didn’t say anything. Bill was approaching them and grumpily suggested they follow him into the kitchen.

They all made casual conversation, Tess doing most of the talking.

Upstairs, Frank was showing you to the shower. He’d given you a towel and found you soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

“Thank you so much,” you said yet again. Frank just laughed it off and told you no worries, and that if you needed anything you could just call for him.

You closed the door, isolating yourself in the bathroom. You turned on the water and held your hand under it until it was warm. A smile spread across your face. You quickly stripped and stepped under the water, longing for the feel of a hot shower.

It was everything you had hoped for. You relished in the hot water rushing over your tired body.

You prided yourself on being tough—like not even flinching when Bill pulled his gun on you—but something about the comfort that reminded you of the old world brought tears to your eyes. Their house was so normal. Nothing like the wilderness, the destroyed towns, or even the QZ. You were only a child when the pandemic happened, but you held onto a few fond memories. You never felt at home in the QZ.

The only thing that made it feel comfortable and safe was Joel, but this was still so much better than the QZ. It was overwhelming.

Next thing you knew, a sob of happiness broke free. And once it started you couldn’t stop.

In the kitchen, Bill was standing at the stove cooking. Joel didn’t know what it was—but it smelled delicious. Frank had excused himself to set up a table outside so everyone could eat together in the nice weather.

“Sorry, by the way,” Bill announced, off topic from the previous discussion. He didn’t look up from his task of sautéing onions as he spoke. “For the uh, gun thing. Can’t be too careful.”

Tess and Joel looked at one another. They both suspected Frank must’ve said something to convince him to apologize. But beyond that, they both thought back to the incident. A flash of anger shot through Joel at the memory of the weapon being targeted at you. Tess remembered how reckless Joel had been, asking Bill to turn the gun on him. Would he really trade his life for yours? Once Tess started thinking about that, she couldn’t stop.

She started to become quiet during the conversation, which was pretty much when the talking fizzled out. Joel wasn’t very talkative, and clearly neither was Bill.

“I’m gonna go see if Frank needs help,” Bill decided after a few minutes. Joel and Tess exchanged a look. Obviously he just wanted away from them for a moment of relief—he wasn’t anticipating having to be social and wasn’t too happy with it.

Once they had a moment alone, Joel had a feeling Tess was going to unleash. It had been building up, Joel could tell her mood had turned sour.

“What was that?” she asked vaguely. Joel furrowed his brows. “Earlier,” she clarified.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel stated. He had an inclination, but he was hoping Tess would drop it.

She didn’t. “You asked him to point a gun at you!” Tess said in a hushed yell, frustration seeping out in her scolding tone.

“He wasn’t going to shoot me,” Joel deadpanned.

“He wasn’t going to shoot at all,” Tess confirmed. “So then why did you tell him to turn it on you?”

She was pushing for an answer she didn’t want, but now that she had started Tess wasn’t going to let up. She was stubborn like that.

“I didn’t like him pointing a gun at Y/N,” Joel admitted. The memory of it made him clench his fist. Tess didn’t see that, but she saw the way Joel wouldn’t hold her gaze.

Her jaw clenched. “You’re too soft on her.”

At that, Joel scoffed. The sound came out before he could stop it. “How is that being too soft on her?”

Tess was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next words. “It’s not just that,” she said, quieter, almost distant. It was a contrast to how loud she’d been getting.

Joel took a deep breath through his nose, then let out a heavy sigh. He finally looked Tess dead in the eye. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

If it wasn’t for the desperate look on Tess’s face, he would’ve gotten up and walked away. She wasn’t done. She was struggling to say what she wanted to say, and Joel didn’t want her to.

“The moment she came into our lives, that was it,” Tess told herself just as much as she was saying it to Joel.

She was backing Joel into a corner. “Where is this coming from?” he questioned.

Tess let out a humorless laugh. “This has been a long time coming,” she confessed. “I see the way you look at her, how you act around her. She’s just about half your age and yet you always seem to find something in common. You cut me out, Joel.”

Joel was at a loss of words. He couldn’t seem to find the words to defend himself. Tess continued.

“We’ve been in that scenario before, do you remember? When you and I were making a trade and the punk pointed a gun at me?” Tess recalled. Joel recovered the memory quickly, and he began to zero in on exactly why this meant so much to Tess. “You never would’ve considered trading yourself for me. I know because you didn’t.”

“That was different,” was all Joel could come up with.

“I never would’ve made you choose between me and her, but you did on your own,” Tess held firm. Her jaw clenched as she fought to not let herself get any more emotional. “And you chose her. I see that now.”

“Tess,” Joel started, but she shook her head.

“Don’t try to lie to me. Please.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Joel said. He wasn’t even sure what he was planning on saying before. This had all come out of nowhere. At least for him, Tess had clearly had this on her mind for a long while and today just happened to be the final straw. “I’m sorry,” he decided, but it was too little too late.

Tess liked you. She really did. And you hadn’t done anything on purpose. You probably didn’t even know the effect you had on Joel. That’s what made being jealous of you so hard. She wanted to not like you, to blame you for stealing any ounce of affection Joel allowed himself to have, but she couldn’t.

She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go check and see if they need any help setting up outside.” The sudden calmness was eerie. Joel looked at her cautiously. “We’re going to just… drop this,” Tess decided. “And we can all try and have a nice time together, eat a real meal, take hot showers, and relax for the night before we head out in the morning.”

Suppression. Tess was going to bottle everything up. Ignore it and move on. It was something her and Joel had in common.

She left him then, and Joel felt no desire to go after her. He felt guilty about that, but he had nothing left to say to Tess about that and she’d concluded her piece.

Instead, Joel found himself leaving the kitchen table. He followed the sound of running water upstairs. You’d been in the shower for a while and there was a nagging feeling in Joel’s chest that longed to find you.

His feet carried him to the bathroom door, where he knew you still were.

Joel heard a sad, gasping sound from you. It was nearly drowned out, but he heard it. Concern overwhelmed him in an instant.

Joel pressed his ear to the door. He almost busted in, but wanted to take a moment. And it was good he did. What he had first thought were sounds of distress, was actually you muffling cries of relief. He could tell. He wasn’t sure how—maybe it was the tone, or the softness to the sounds, or he just knew you too well—but he could tell.

His hand reached for the doorknob. Joel grasped it and contemplated turning it. He leaned the side of his head against the door.

“Y/N?” Joel called through the door. He went blank over what else to say. Should he ask if you were alright? Would you be weirded out if he asked to come in? You were showering after all. Instead he said nothing.

You went silent. Joel felt bad now. You were never emotional around anyone, you tried to hide it from him. Joel wished you wouldn’t. But he supposed you were just following by example.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Um,” Joel stalled. “I was just checking on you.”

“Oh, um, I'm alright,” you replied. A few seconds of quiet passed. “Thank you, though.”

Joel listened to the sound of water rushing from the shower. You’d stopped your tears it seemed, but Joel could hear the quiver in your voice when you’d spoken.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Joel told you carefully.

“I’m fine, Joel,” you assured.

When Joel first met you, you were innocent despite the dark world and wore your heart on your sleeve. You used to express yourself emotionally, but now Joel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you let yourself break.

You’d gotten better about hiding it. He wanted to help you open up, but that was something even he struggled to do.

Joel went down the stairs and to the living room. No one else was in the house, he could see out the window that Frank was showing Tess around their garden while Bill was setting up the food.

Joel sat on the couch and thought over your interaction through the door. He wished he would have waited for you to come out of the bathroom to talk to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Because then he’d have to explain himself as to why and after the conversation with Tess, he feared how you’d react to the knowledge of his feelings.

As if on cue, there were light steps descending down the stairs. Joel turned to look at you.

Your hair was damp, and you were wearing an oversized clean shirt that must’ve come from one of the hosts (Frank was the nicer one, so Joel guessed it was him who lent you it) and a pair of jeans that you’d packed that you hadn’t worn yet.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey,” Joel said, watching you as you moved over to him. “Everyone else is outside.”

“I see that,” you said lightly. “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Joel asked.

You shrugged. “I thought I heard arguing earlier. You and Tess,” you explained. “Bathroom is right above the kitchen…”

A brief moment of unease filled Joel. “What all did you hear?”

“No words clearly, just Tess raising her voice,” you revealed. Joel just gave you a slight nod. He had a feeling that wasn’t the only thing you had to say. “Did you, um… hear me earlier?”

Joel knew instantly what you meant. “No.” He hated lying to you. “Yes.”

“I thought so. I just”—you searched for your words—“I’m fine. That was just—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

You swallowed and took a breath. “I’m not weak.”

Joel let out a small huff. “I know that.” That fact that you thought you had to tell him was amusing in an odd way. He was well aware.

“Well, alright then,” you said decidedly. “It’s just been so long since we’ve had hot water and—“

“You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to feel,” Joel reminded. “I know you. You’re strong. But you’re also a good, sweet, caring person and I just”—Joel sighed, struggling for his words even as they were tumbling out—“I don’t want to see you go numb to the world. I don’t want you to end up like me.”

You looked at him curiously. He stood for some reason, it felt more natural for him. Your eyes held his on his way up. “You’re not numb, Joel,” you told him, sounding so sure of yourself. “I don’t think that. I think you put on a brave face just like I do. Although I guess I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”

A small laugh left you as you shook your head.

“What?”

“It’s just been so long since I talked about… feelings,” you admitted.

“Same here,” Joel agreed.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be, but it is.”

Joel got an idea. He hoped it wasn’t a bad one. “Maybe we can… help each other with that. Y’know, find a way to talk about it.”

You gave him a gentle smile. Before Joel could process, you were wrapping your arms around him and clinging to him in a hug. It was a sudden, unfamiliar movement. Joel held you against his body, resting his chin on your head.

“That’s a good idea,” you told him, your voice muffled against him.

Joel hadn’t touched, let alone held, someone in so long. It was nice. Mostly because it was you.

The sound of a door opening and heavy steps alerted you, causing you and Joel to part from one another. Frank approached the two of you with a welcoming smile on his face.

“Dinners ready,” he informed, looking between the both of you.

“Seriously, we cannot thank you enough, Frank,” you said kindly. He gestured towards the door in an “after you” manner. You gave him a smile and headed outside. Before you stepped out, you gave Joel one last grateful look.

There was a slight smile on Frank’s face as he looked at Joel, who hadn’t moved yet.

“It’s nice to have someone in a world like this, isn’t it?” Frank asked in a sincere tone.

Joel looked out the window towards the garden where you joined the table. You smiled at the sight of the food and took a seat.

After having a whole conversation about allowing feelings, Joel decided that he didn’t want to suppress the small smile of appreciation that crossed his own face.

“Yeah, it is,” Joel answered.

starting a joel taglist, if you’d like to be on it lmk through an ask or message!

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose

#quin-ns writing #request #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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osaemu · 4 months

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REUNION: GETO SUGURU

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: hunger games!au: you come home to your mentor, who has every intention of giving you all the pleasure you've been deprived of for weeks. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. mentor x tribute (who is 18-19, duh). lil bit of plot, lil bit of angst. oral (f. receiving), squirting, pet names. mentions of starvation. mentions of prior sex before the games. age gap isn't specified—for all i care, he could just be a year older than you. not lore focused.

“holy shit, you’re actually alive,” suguru whispers, lips pressed to the top of your head as he holds you against his chest. you nod shakily, tears streaming down your cheeks. “holy shit,” suguru repeats, pulling away to study your face. his rough thumbs instinctually wipe away the flood of tears wetting your cheeks, but they just keep coming—so he gives up.

“c’mon, let’s get you back home,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and shielding you from the onlookers of your reunion. you lean into his side, too teary-eyed to care about the hundreds of capitol citizens watching your every move. suguru whispers bits of praise here and there as he leads you back to the building deemed your “home” by the capitol—at least, for the next couple days, before you’re shipped off back to your district.

the elevator ride up to your floor is excruciating—it’s quiet, painful, and strained, because neither of you know if it’s bugged. it probably is, and even though you have nothing wrong to say, you both want to keep your hearts private. it’s hard not to collapse on the way to your room, but thankfully, suguru’s there to hold your weakened body as you stumble to the ghost-white door that separates you and your bed.

“missed you so much, suguru,” you whisper as he scoops you up bridal-style. your mentor nods, dark eyes inspecting every part of you he can see as he lays you down on your perfectly-made bed. suguru starts to leave, presumably to get you food or water or something, but you grab onto his sleeve before he can get too fast. “stay,” you plead, eyes wild with an emotion he can’t identify yet.

“you need food,” suguru reminds you, lips curving upwards with a little smile. you shake your head and, with the remainder of your strength, pull him a centimeter forward. you know only too well that if he wanted to, suguru could shake you off as easily as a fly—but he lets you tug him down next to you, breath held in his throat.

“i need you,” you insist, and that’s enough for him. one way or another, both of your clothes end up discarded to who-knows-where, save for a hoodie that suguru snatches up from the floor and pulls over your shoulders.

“in case you get cold,” suguru explains, gently manhandling you into a position that’ll give his mouth easy access to your neglected cunt. his soft, dark eyes lock with yours from where his chin rests on the bed in between your thighs. you stick out your bottom lip in a pout and attempt to pull the hoodie back over your head, but he shoots you a warning glance before you can do you. “you’re still weak, sweetheart. i shouldn’t even be doin’ this for you.”

“i’m fine,” you insist, reaching out and threading your fingers through his hair. “just… do this for me, ‘kay?” you whisper, rounding your eyes pleadingly. “please, suguru, i’ve missed you so much—”

the rest of your sentence is lost when he turns his head and presses his lips to the soft inside of your thighs. maybe you’re just imagining it, but his lips feel drier than you remember—although, that soon changes.

“you’re still as sweet as you were before the games, honey,” suguru mumbles, tongue lapping at your needy cunt. “so sweet f’me, heh,” he continues, fully immersed in the way your pussy eagerly welcomes the warmth of his mouth. the games starved you in more ways than one, but the only hunger you find yourself focusing on is for suguru.

“missed you s-so much, sugu,” you breathe, moaning when suguru’s tongue toys with your clit. he kitten-licks the sensitive spot, drawing out gasp after gasp from your lips. “too much, too mu—”

“i missed you too, pretty girl,” suguru murmurs, hands secured around your thighs. he maneuvers his tongue all over your cunt, and places you forgot existed throb with pleasure from the way suguru treats them. he treats you delicately, as always—but that doesn’t stop him from giving you the best time of your life.

“make me cum?” you ask softly, eyes fluttering open and shut with every movement of suguru’s mouth. he smiles, nose brushing against your folds from how deep he is in your cunt.

“whatever you want, baby,” he affirms, squeezing the inside of your thigh and sucking on your sensitive clit—hard. it’s enough to make your thighs involuntarily squeeze around his head, making suguru laugh into your cunt. “keep ‘em just like that,” he mutters, holding your legs in place even when you try to spread them again. “good girl, jus’ like that.”

“sugu, m’ close,” you gasp, back arching from the pressure of his mouth on your cunt. at this point, you’re so sensitive that even the soft puff of air suguru exhales as he eats you out makes you shiver. “gonna cum, gonna c—”

“then do it, sweetheart,” suguru interrupts, looking up at you, a challenge in his eyes. “cum on my face, honey. c’mon, you can d—”

this time, you cut him off with a long, drawn-out moan as you release all over suguru’s face. it’s a feeling that’s almost unfamiliar—you can hardly remember the last time you got treated this good, save for the last night you spent with suguru before the games. you repeat his name over and over again as the orgasm hits you like a truck, leaving your chest heaving and legs trembling.

in the aftermath of you squirting all over your mentor’s face, you’re dizzy—the world doesn’t seem right, and maybe it’s just you, but you’re so cold. if it wasn’t for suguru’s hoodie, which is still wrapped around your shoulders, you’d be shaking like a leaf. but thankfully, suguru’s warm as ever—he scoops you up again and holds you to his chest, gently massaging you as you come back down to him.

suguru kisses the side of your face, murmuring praises on how good you did and how sweet you tasted. “t-thank you,” you whisper, lips trembling as the words leave your mouth.

suguru raises his eyebrows curiously and asks, “for what?”

you shrug and rest your head on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with every heaving breath he takes. “for this. and for helping me get out of that hellhole alive.”

suguru’s lips curl upwards, forming a soft smile as he presses his lips to your forehead. his hair falls onto your face, brushing your cheek and filling your nostrils with his warm, comforting scent. “that’s my job, sweetheart. now c’mon, let’s get you some food. i’m sure you’re starving.”

#osaemu #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

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infinitethree · 4 months

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Hello day how do u feel about snakes

Day is once again in one of his greenhouses. This time, he's tending to some modest fruit trees; the one he’s currently at has several ripe apples that he’s collecting.

He answers, "Snakes are cool. There are a few harmless kinds that live around the area. They're great for keeping pests in check. I'm much happier to have them around than, say, mice. Or rabbits; the damn things are cute right up until they devour half your pantry."

Is it perhaps overkill to wipe out any burrows he finds? Maybe. But he’s still more than a little bitter about how many times he’s found his garden ruined by rabbits.

Snakes, on the other hand, have no interest in his vegetables. They’re not going to bother people, either– not unless one of them does something stupid, like mess with their eggs.

He really shouldn't be surprised that the Observers have names. Or, at least, that he’s learned one of them after…Prime only knew how long he’s had to answer their questions.

Instead of showing that emotion beyond a flick of his wings, he gives a wide grin. "Oh, just one? I don't call them feral gremlins for nothing, you know. I love them, even when they drive me up a wall– but they're menaces."

He makes a show of stretching his arms, like he’s getting ready to do something strenuous. He starts, "Theo and Perce have the same one; making their brothers ignore the no murder at the table rule." Rolling his eyes, he scoffs, "It's there because the food ends up on the floor! I work hard on that food, and no it does not make it better that I like cooking. I cook to feed them, and sometimes their friends, not to have half of the food get thrown out!"

Despite his annoyance, he's not blind to why they do it. Theo in particular uses it to distract the rest of them from bad moods or dark thoughts.

A lot of people dismiss Theo as an arrogant meathead who is ignorant of or just outright ignores others' feelings.

He’s not, though. Or, a least, not towards his loved ones– Day’s eldest son is extremely sensitive to the emotions of the people he cares about. He will poke and prod and deliberately provoke them to make sure they're too annoyed at him to focus on whatever's bothering them.

To some extent, he even manages Day’s moods. Part of that is probably from the long stretches where the two of them would be traveling together. Theo might not have been aware of what, exactly, haunted Day, but he sure as fuck learned how to snap him out of any spirals.

Perce, meanwhile, has fully embraced being a chaotic little gremlin. He adores causing mayhem– especially when he can get paid for it.

At times, though, his mischief almost feels like a subtle test– like he needs to prove that they'll still love him, even if he gets on their nerves.

It makes Day’s chest ache that one of his sons has a corner of his heart that is still afraid of being discarded so easily.

His wings flick again, and he tries not to dwell too much on how much he longs to go back and inflict ten times as much pain on the one who hurt his second youngest so deeply.

He continues, “For Dee, it’s a bit similar. His involvement in pranks usually means they’re dialed up to eleven. He uses his redstone skills and ability to forge things for evil…or, at least, chaos.”

Daedalus has regularly turned the floor of his brothers’ rooms into pitfall traps with a viscerally unpleasant mixture of slime, sand, glitter, and other things Day has yet to identify at the bottom.

His brothers have learned to be wary of any empty floors when Dee is in a bad mood.

Even that doesn’t always save them– Dee has been the one to instigate many prank wars and skirmishes.

It's…caused some issues, to put it mildly.

He sighs, eyes closing as he continues to work the stiff muscles in his wings. It's one of many things that Vio nags him to death about.

The resident vaguely eldritch and very alien ex-information broker, unexpected server-reformer, and unwilling multiverse traveler pulls n-th duty as Day’s doctor.

For most things, he’s fine on his own. He has to be; he spent months at a time alone in the wilderness. Beyond that, he’s raised four young children into adulthood.

But, at the insistence of said children and Iatros, Vio makes sure he’s not ignoring major issues. Really, it's not so much a typical doctor visit as much as it is physical therapy.

Day knows his body, and more specifically his ability to perceive pain, is wrecked beyond repair.

It's annoying as fuck because it does actually work. He feels better with that safety net, and the Prime-damned stretches do ease the tension headaches he sometimes gets.

Eyes still shut, he says, “The twins are, in a way, similar to each other. At least as far as my pet peeves. Orph gets…passionate. Very, very passionate. If he feels slighted– and that slight could be as simple as a show going in a way he doesn't like– then everyone will know.”

He snorts softly as he carefully rolls his head to stretch his neck.

Yeah, Orph's intensity is something to be feared. When he really gets going, Day sees echoes of Wilbur– Arode, now, but it feels odd to call him that.

It's even odder to see those flashes of someone Day spent decades hating within his son. It makes some part of him flinch, and he hates himself for that.

Orph is not Wilbur. Orph is not Arode. Orph isn't Zinn, either– the elder of his twins is his own person.

He is so much more than the two halves that he started from.

But sometimes, memories and trauma twist a mostly benign rant into the ravings of a madman in a cave.

“And then Attie…he channels that same intensity internally. If he’s absorbed in a project– or in anything, really– he shuts everything else out. It’s one of the reasons I insist on family dinners. He'd eat a lot less if it weren't for that.”

His eyes finally open again. “It's true for all of them. I managed to adopt six hellions who complain that they just need to finish this oooooone little part, and then they can eat. That's never what happens, because if I let them focus on their project then they're gone.”

He very much counts Lee among that group. He's already begun blueprints for what he fondly calls the ‘Poison Farm’.

Once it's done, it'll be a bunker that houses some of the most deadly things that they can find. Alien plants, venomous snakes, weird ocean life– if it can harm or kill through toxicity, it will be housed in that building.

Day hesitates to use the mod tools and items in most cases. For this, though? The Poison Farm's deadly contents will be boxed in with barrier blocks.

The only way in or out will be a monitored door that only Lee can open. Nobody goes in or out without his approval and presence.

Day, in truth, is glad that his youngest has found something that speaks to him. All of his brothers have a hobby that they dearly love; Theo with both bookbinding and fighting, Dee with redstone and smithing, Orph with music, Atlas with jewelry, and Perce with both elaborate calligraphy and running TTRPG campaigns.

Seeing Lee get so intense about planning is a sign that this will stick. He’s seen plenty of hobbies that his kids have bounced off of, and there's an intangible quality that sets the start of them apart.

With a little shake of his head, he starts gathering up the literal fruits of his labor.

"Lee's is needing to be reminded that he's not allowed to use the Swords and Shields punitively. It’s usually after one of his brothers does something, though, so it's tolerable. Still a little worrying, but better than his brothers a lot of the time. Of course, he has time to grow into being a feral hellion– there’s no telling how much trouble he'll get into once he gets older."

He pauses, and then adds, "He also needs to be reminded that he’s going to need to be careful about using his poisons punitively, too. Or…at least, that he needs to not to make his brothers afraid of food. I’ve made it clear that he can't use it at family meals. If one of them pisses him off and they eat something he gives them, that's different. I'm not going to let my kids' relationship with food get as fucked up as mine is.”

Despite what he says, there's a fond smile curling up. Seeing Lee try to delve headfirst into the chaos is sweet, in an odd way.

Maybe he's just a bit sentimental, but it reminds him of how vastly different Lee’s life is from Day’s.

A part of him can't help but look forward to seeing the incredible things his son will accomplish.

#asked&answered #chronotag #long post #daydreamer #yeah hi I know it's been a HOT SEC #as an apology have 4.5k across two posts w/ 4 questions

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mostly-mundane-atla · 2 years

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Do you have any more headcanons about Eska and/or Desna? I was disappointed we didn't get anything more substantial with them.

DO NOT REMAIN SILENT ABOUT THE INDIAN CHILD WELFARE ACT!! PEOPLE REPRESENTED BY BIG OIL'S LAWYERS WANT THE STATE'S OKAY TO STEAL OUR BABIES AND HAVE THE GALL TO ACT LIKE THEY'RE DOING US A FAVOR FOR IT!! DO NOT LET THEM TAKE YOUR SILENCE AS APPROVAL! STAND UP AND SPEAK OUT!!!!!

I do love Desna and Eska content ^-^ have some headcanons!

Desna got hit in the face in a way that noticeably chipped one of his teeth, so Eska told him to help her chip her tooth the same way so they could match. Unalaq caught them before any damage was done and Eska still bites into hard foods with that tooth so it can match Desna's

Eska is actually much handier with a spear than her brother, as well as more sensitive to changes in the ice. Desna, on the other hand has the neatest, steadiest, and sturdiest stitches of anyone in their family and an incredible singing voice. Both are surprisingly skilled swimmers and have read all the classics

They are both members of the latest wave of the Imaģuq Movement, a post-war spiritual and cultural revival in the Water Tribes and among the Water Tribe diaspora with emphasis on reincarnation and the fleeting nature of the physical. Eska is well known for her poems musing on decay and Desna rewrites Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation romances into Water Tribe settings with Water Tribe cultural values, altering the themes and plots pretty heavily as a result. Critics have very mixed opinions on his works

Each of them have exactly one official portrait and both are avant-garde and push the boundaries of photagraphy. For passports and similar identifying documents, they actually swap places for photos. No one has caught on yet

Tahno has an ongoing turbulent on-again off-again relationship with each of them. He has found it a bit odd that neither seems to care about their twin's involvement with him, but he won't question fate's generosity. He has been asked about anectdotes and circumstances that suggest an agfair by many an interviewer, but he always insists a gentleman never tells.

That's all i have for now. Maybe more in the future. Until then, remember:

STAND UP AND SPEAK OUT FOR INDIGENOUS RIGHTS OR COWER ON THE WRONG SIDE OF HISTORY

#response #atla headcanons #lok headcanons #lok #legend of korra #gonna start adding icwa stuff on all my answers

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jonnysinsectcatalogue · 9 months

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Acrobat Ants - Crematogaster cerasi

Those heart-shaped abdomens may look inviting and aesthetically pleasing, but these foragers are tough and ready to defend their flowers from aggressors. That's right, they are in trees now too! These glossy insects have come to rely on flowers to obtain provisions for their queen and won't be pushed over easily. They are omnivores too, and anything they can swarm, bite and sting will also go to the colony's food pile. Though I mention 'sting', it's little more than a nuisance to us. The intended use for these Ants' short stingers are to stun any insect that tries to intrude into their territory with acidic venom! They are courteous enough to warn a trespasser beforehand by arching their abdomen over their body (like the individual at the top of Picture 1) that they are bothered. It's this contortion that gave these insects the moniker, "Acrobat Ant". It also gives them other advantages like beings able to angle their sting in any direction they like, summon other workers to the fight, and allowing them to potentially rub venom at an attacker's more sensitive areas. It's a handy advantage when foraging takes the workers up into the trees, but don't expect to be sprayed yourself; the venom squeezes out in the form of droplets.

Though arboreal, not all Acrobat Ants have nests built on or within a tree. Some are ground dwellers, while this specie tends to dwell under rocks or in wood. Although, the Ants that do build nests in a tree can enter a mutualistic relationship whereby the tree provides food exclusively to the Ants, and the Ants protect the tree from predators (the line blurs when soft-bodied, honeydew excreting insects arrive in the picture). These workers are likely just around to forage, and will return to their heart-shaped abdomens to the nest after they're done. If you're looking to identify these Ants, the heart-shape is a good place to start, but you can also inspect for: two spines on the propodeum (it's near the end of the thorax), the connection between the thorax and abdomen, a padded protonum (which some species have), and (if you can get close enough) the hairs on their body. With respect to the lattermost, these Ants might also be C. lineolata, but it's impossible to tell without closeups of the the number of hairs on the body and how they're arranged. C. cerasi was chosen due to geographic range, but I'm not ruling anything out here just yet. Whichever Ant it is, treat them carefully as the colony is full of mandibles and stings. If you keep some distance, maybe you can follow them to their nest. Acrobat Ants tend to create trails as they locate sources of food in order to make tracking food easier for other workers of colony.

Pictures were taken on July 9, 2023 with a Google Pixel 4.

#jonny’s insect catalogue #ontario insect #ant #crematogaster cerasi #acrobat ant #hymenoptera #insect #toronto #july2023 #2023 #nature #entomology #invertebrates

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galimatiaskosmos · 1 year

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English isn’t my native language

This is Ode, my lizard oc. They don’t have a definitive specie yet, but maybe they can be an icy lizard(maybe…?)

Anyways… Description

An extremely docile and inattentive type of lizard. It is easier for them to “fall” into a hole or not even notice something in front of them than to attack.

They avoid attacking and/or eating creatures bigger and/or stronger than themself, having a behavior similar if not the same as the eggbug insect. They have certain intelligence, knowing how to differentiate what to eat and what not to eat - like not to eat slugpups, slugcats, scavengers - identifies behavior/writing patterns and sounds (like a crow). Members of their species do not compete with each other, being able to make entire communities with 10 or more members.

As they are often smart, fast and great companions, they are chosen by scavengers, slugcats and even vultures as friends / pets. And many species that are often predated by these lizards share a temporary or permanent relationship of mutualism or protocooperation with them. To tame them you need to have a great reputation with them - which is a little difficult, as they are extremely skittish - they need the same amount or more as the red lizard to tame them.

Abilities: Just like blue and white lizards, They can climb walls and ceilings, in addition to having the characteristic tongue that traps prey. They are able to camouflage themself, change colors, swim averagely and are predators of opportunity like white lizards. Their bite is one of the least lethal against creatures that they have affinity, but with low reputation they become considerably lethal. They are not afraid to defend the creatures they like despite being quite skittish.

Their tail mimics plants to help with camouflage or use as bait to catch prey, and it sometimes has real blue fruits that the slugcat can pick to eat - but at the risk of losing reputation as these fruits take a portion of the fat and nutrients from the lizard’s body and are made with the main objective of attracting food. Their whiskers are highly sensitive to vibrations, something that helps offset their lack of attention.

#rain world art #rain world oc #oc art #rain world lizard #rw lizard #rw oc

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georgekirrin · 2 years

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8 and 33!!!

I’m not autistic but I CANNOT eat cottage cheese so I’m curious

8. If you have any, what are your special interests?

Oh this is a weird one for me because I had SO many intense passions as a kid that since The Depression appeared it's been hard to identify spins from the more muted feeling. But I know I love archaeology and osteology, and I'm so excited to study it every day, I still love harry potter, and it hasn't been long enough to distinguish between fixation and spin yet but I feel giddy whenever I think about OFMD so I think that's a good candidate :D

33. Foods you are sensitive to (maybe because of bad texture for instance)?

Food texture is a massive issue for me so I'm a really picky eater. The absolute worst is boiled potatos, and I'm feeling anxious just thinking about them so I won't elaborate lol

#thanks for asking!!!#toddycats #autism tag #ask game

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meditating-dog-lover · 2 months

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Flareup

I had a flareup right now after eating Perdue tenders with mayo. It most definitely wasn't the worst flareup, but flareups suck mild or severe.

Here are the tenders ingredients:

Here are the mayo ingredients:

I really don't know which ingredient caused me to flareup, or if was the chicken or the mayo. Out of all the ingredients, I think the soybean oil is triggering something. I am not sensitive to chicken, nor wheat, nor eggs. I don't eat soy products in general, so I'm not sure if this is a trigger. I've eaten tenders on their own before and had no real issues. But the mayo? I'm not sure.

I've eaten mayo and tomatoes in the past with no issues, I'm not sure why it's bothering me all of a sudden. I had the same dish on Wednesday and had some scratchiness on the backs of my hands, but nothing serious nor bothersome. But today I had a bad flareup.

I want this eczema hell to end. My detoxing multivitamin helped clear up my skin, better than flaxseed oil. But I know there is an element of food sensitivity because my skin flares up after eating some foods.

I'm still waiting on my food sensitivity test results and will be doing an allergy patch test next week. Then I'll find a potential solution. I've heard of people clearing up their eczema by eliminating trigger foods.

Of course these are not the healthiest foods and are probably loaded with pesticides and heavy metals and plastics. So maybe this can be another trigger? But in this day and age pretty much all foods are and if this were my trigger, I would get flareups after eating almost anything. But I don't thankfully.

It will get better. I don't know why it got worse since I got back from Cyprus, my skin wasn't this inflamed before. Winter is even almost over, so we're not really dealing with cold and dry weather anymore. Yet my skin is still inflamed and dry.

I'm sure it's a combination of food sensitivities and toxins in my body. In this case, removing trigger foods and supplementing with my detox multivitamin and occasionally chlorella can help a lot. Doing the patch test won't hurt either, but I know the above 2 are definitely contributing to my skin inflammation. But I feel the toxins is the main issue and the other ones like food sensitivities and contact allergies and stress are just exacerbating it. I'm going to take my supplements for a long time and hope for the best.

Inflammation is biologically a positive feedback loop, which makes it hard to stop. I'll definitely figure it out.

My skin now is a bit oozy and swollen, but it's not that bad and will heal by tomorrow morning. It's been healing a lot since I started my detoxing supplements, but I need to continue with that and I need to identify my food sensitivities. This could be one reason as to why this flareup wasn't that bad.

I'm going to heal from this, just like how I healed from a ton of other health issues (especially my teeth which used to drive me crazy). I just need to effectively detox, find my food sensitivities and patch test allergens. I'll have all my results by the end of next week.

I have a complementary wellness call that came with the food sensitivity test, and I booked a phone call with a local functional medicine doctor. I can ask them all the questions I have, especially the doctor.

Besides this I am working on my fat loss through IF and going for long walks. Both eczema-free skin and fat loss are 2 health goals I want to achieve this year and I know I will.

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dr-2bthin · 2 years

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Identifying whether you are Gluten Sensitive

“Maybe you ate too much last night.” – “It’ll go away, I feel bloated from time to time.” – “It’s just a headache, it will go away.” – “I feel very anxious after breakfast; could be due to my stress about work.”

We’re often assuming our condition to be the cause of something that’s not really serious because the symptoms are so common and bearable at times. We often tend to make light of what we experience because we think it will go away, it’s only a matter of time. However, sometimes one could be more vulnerable than one makes it out to be. It begins to get serious and we start worrying when the symptoms repeatedly occur, and it becomes annoying and unbearable. Of course, it’s natural to feel discomfort until it gets worse; plus, you don’t want to overthink your problems. However, food sensitivities beg to differ.

In this blog, we’re talking about sensitivity to gluten and its confusing signs. It causes visible signs of discomfort that many times runs in one of the family members unnoticeably.

Gluten sensitivity causes a host of symptoms like abdominal pain, fatigue, bloating, diarrhea and even constipation. Other symptoms include nausea, headaches, joint and muscle pain, depression, anxiety, confusion, and anemia.

Gluten’s insensitivity!

While many people are free of gluten sensitivity, there are many yet who are prey to this condition.

Those who are sensitive to gluten may not be aware until the symptoms keep showing up and are diagnosed by their doctor.Celiac disease or a gluten allergy can be detected through blood testing or other standardized approaches. However, non-celiac gluten sensitivity isn’t as simple. This is because the immune system reacts in many ways to gluten and it’s difficult to test and identify the difference. In fact, all three forms of gluten intolerance, that is celiac disease, non-celiac gluten sensitivity, and wheat allergy can cause widespread symptoms. However, many of the symptoms may have nothing to do with digestion.

One of the best ways to experience noticeable difference from the symptoms is by eliminating gluten from the diet for three to six weeks. Later, reintroduce gluten and observe how your body begins to react. If the symptoms reduced without gluten and then reappeared when you ate it again, you can concur that you are sensitive to gluten.

Once you know, you can work with a dietitian to guide youwith a diet that is gluten-free.

It is not recommended to reintroduce gluten in your diet if you have celiac disease. In this case, you must be sure to do any celiac testing before eliminating gluten.

Foods to avoid when you are gluten sensitive

It is essential to completely eliminate gluten from your diet if you have celiac disease. However, we recommend one step at a time. It can help if you include one gluten-free meal per day, and then slowly replace other gluten-rich meals.

Symptoms vary from person to person; therefore, cutting out gluten entirely and abruptly may not prove beneficial for some people.

Here are a few common foods and drinks that people with gluten sensitivity should avoid.

· wheat, and any derivatives of wheat, such as spelt

· pancakes, waffles, and crepes

· biscuits

· many sauces and gravies

· beers

· barley, including malt

· rye

· pasta

· bread and pastries

· baked goods

· noodles

· crackers

· cereals

· malt beverages

Gluten-free foods to add to your diet

If you have celiac disease, you’ll be avoiding gluten for life. This means that you’re going to have to look away from items that have gluten on the menu. You’ll have turned away from those irresistible baked goods while passing by your once used-to-be favourite bakery shop. But, don’t lose hope – we’ve got some interesting gluten-free you can add to your daily diet habits.

· Meat, fish, and poultry: you can have all types, except coated or battered meats

· Eggs: egg yolks, whole eggs, or egg whites are allowed

· Dairy: unflavored dairy products are allowed, including, plain milk, yogurt, and cheese

· Fruits: There’s not much of a problem with fruits, so you can try berries, melons, pineapples, bananas, oranges, pears, peaches, etc.

· Vegetables: tomatoes, broccoli, onions, peppers, mushrooms, asparagus, carrots, potatoes, etc.

· Grains: quinoa, buckwheat, tapioca, rice, sorghum, corn, millet, amaranth, arrowroot, teff, and oats (if labeled gluten-free)

· Starches and flours: potato flour, cornstarch, corn flour, chickpea flour, coconut flour, soy flour, almond meal or flour, and tapioca flour

· Nuts and seeds: walnuts, pistachios, cashews, hemp seeds, chia seeds, flaxseeds, almonds, etc.

· Spreads and oils: olive oil, coconut oil, butter, margarine, vegetable oils, etc.

· Herbs and spices: cilantro, black pepper, turmeric, oregano, thyme, rosemary, parsley, etc.

· Beverages: most beverages are allowed, except for beer which mostly contains gluten

Reference:

List Of Gluten-Free Foods

A gluten-free life does not have to feel like you are deprived of food. There are ways to reduce your dependence on gluten and live a life that’s free from the discomfort of all gluten-sensitive symptoms.

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· Phentermine – Doctor Prescribed Weight Loss & Diet Pills

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Update:

We are now serving entire California, New York&Colorado

Coming Soon

Nevada, Arizona, State of Washington, Nebraska, Pennsylvania, Hawaii, Delaware, Georgia

Blog Source: https://www.dr2bthin.com/identifying-whether-you-are-gluten-sensitive/

#Identifying whether you are Gluten Sensitive

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walkingtogetherblog · 2 years

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May 2022: San Salvador, El Salvador

We apologize that we have been neglecting this page. A lot had happened since we last posted here. If you’re interested in getting more frequent updates, reflections and photos of our journey, check out our Instagram page @walkingtogetherblog

From Shinei:

We ended up staying in Guatemala for two months as Samaya received her vaccinations and regained her health. We rented a rustic cabin, made friends, improved our Spanish, volunteered, and even had a visit from Soten’s dad and Cindi! We started walking again a few weeks back and crossed into El Salvador. Then, this last Tuesday, we suddenly realized that our visa was about to expire! We made it to the capital, San Salvador, just in time to get a visa extension and then promptly became very sick! That’s where we’ve been, sick in bed, for the majority of this week.

Sickness is a teacher. It shows us what we are attached to…our plans, feeling good, our bodies. The truth is that any of us could get sick today and never get well. Anything we are identified with, anything we are attached to, including this precious body, can be separated from us at any moment. If we are not willing to let these temporary manifestations go, we suffer. We suffer not just at the time of separation but even now, because whenever there is identification and attachment there is also the fear of loss and the anxiety of maintaining that which we fear losing.

Another thing sickness teaches us is what is healing and what is toxic. Our sensitivity to foods, drinks, entertainment, activities and even to thought is heightened. I find myself able to detect the effect of even the smallest bite of food, alignment of posture, or negative thought with an awareness much greater than usual. This morning I was able to do seated meditation after days of not being able to sit upright due to fatigue. How profoundly healing Zazen is. Perhaps the best medicine we have available to us!

With this increased awareness of what is truly healthy for this body-heart-mind-world, and the renewed rememberance that I could die at any moment, sickness puts me in touch with my deepest vows. How do I want to embody this moment of life? And this one? And this one? Fresh, Alive, Kind, Present, Satisfied, Appreciative, without a sense of expectation or lack, with deep curiosity and full engagement.

May we all Awaken to the Light of our own Being, releasing all attachments, and manifesting inherent kindness and freedom to help others!✨

From Soten:

Sometimes the future is absolutely appalling. Thank God we’ll never actually have to deal with it. I could die right here on this bed and everything would be absolutely alright.

We have to touch the depth of our own insignificance. This is not the inner critic. The inner critic has no weight unless we think we’re special in some way, or at least are somehow supposed to be. Rather, that who we become or don’t become, inspire or don’t inspire, accomplish or don’t are all irrelevant. We are the only person that will ever experience our own self-view.

Our living is raw. Sometimes it is beautiful. Sometimes it is exquisite. Sometimes it is painful. Sometimes it is agonizing. The teachings say that there is a peace below all of this. If we have some faith that that might be true, it’s worth committing to being open to whatever comes our way, that we may glimpse this deeper peace below.

This most recent sickness was too hard to handle. Enduring aversion. I have no interest in walking tomorrow, the thought is appalling. Yet tonight we’ll pack. The flow of life could care less if we’re on board.

None of this negates gratitude for being. The opportunity to experience at all is unfathomable. But sometimes we have to shed some sticky skin in order to leave our bad ideas behind. The process sucks. But it is also beautiful, awesome, deeply worth it, and maybe most honestly - simply a matter of time.

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genderqueerpositivity · 2 years

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I've got to say that some of my biggest changes from testosterone haven't been entirely physical. The way I think, feel, and perceive things has changed too.

Since starting T last March I've done things that I definitely didn't have the confidence to do before. I've taken chances and made changes. I interviewed for a job that I didn't have the guts to try for previously (even though I'd already been doing the work without the pay). When that didn't work out, I trained for and got an even better job.

My mental health is considerably better than it was this time last year. Not perfect, but better. Having less dysphoria makes an enormous difference.

I've had some definite changes in sensory issues since starting testosterone. I don't know if these changes are specifically related to being on T, if they're related to something else entirely, or just a coincidence. It honestly seems like I'm quicker to sensory overload, and to overwhelm in general, than I used to be. I'm more sensitive to sounds and smells. Having too much happening around me, too many things to try to focus on at once, having to change focus rapidly between one thing and another, having someone talking at me while I'm doing something that requires a lot of care and focus...all seems to set me off more easily now.

I also seem to have a lot more sensory issues with food lately; certain textures, if it's too greasy, if I feel something crunch in a soft food, if there are bones in my food at all. I seem less sensitive to spicy foods now, I've been told that I way over season things now, and while I still like sweet foods, I crave them far less than I used to. I also can't tolerate anything with heavy fake fragrances anymore. I can't use most of the lotions, candles, or incense I've had since before starting T, I can't tolerate most air fresheners or certain cleaning products. Strong fragrances give me a terrible headache and the smells make me nauseous now.

This is the longest I've been off antidepressants (outside of not having health insurance) in over a decade. Which has been an interesting experience. I've been on ever-increasing doses of annually changing antidepressants since I was a teenager and I'm having some complicated feelings about that. Like maybe taking all of these different medications and having them do almost nothing to help my actual symptoms should have been a fucking red flag of some sort? I'm actually considering looking for a new therapist once I've gotten really settled with my new job and hours. I'm not ready to talk about the reason for that in more detail yet, but I may in the future.

I like my body so much more now. Other people's opinions about the shape and size and appearance of my body matter less to me now. Some comments still hurt, but overall it doesn't matter as much because I like my body.

Testosterone has brought up some interesting feelings around my sexual and romantic orientations. I don't really know how to identify my sexuality anymore. I still consider myself somewhere on the aro and ace spectrums, but I'm unsure what words to use. I'm just really not used to experiencing romantic or sexual attraction. I rarely ever did pre-T.

After identifying as a lesbian for so much time, I was kind of unsure how to react to having attraction to men, specifically. (I have discovered that having straight men message me on dating apps is still a terrible experience though ugh. My profiles say that I'm transmasc and on testosterone, so why do straight men message me? I don't get it.)

Queer definitely still fits me best.

Since starting testosterone, I've fully embraced identifying as transmasculine and gendervague, in addition to genderqueer. Before starting T, I considered myself mostly transneutral...but I feel like that word doesn't fit my actual experience of gender anymore. I wonder sometimes why I was so reluctant to consider myself transmasculine or to embrace he/him pronouns before? And I think it comes down to internalized transphobia and the messages I was being sent (for real) telling me that I couldn't be a lesbian and he/him, couldn't be transmasc and butch, that I had to choose.

Ironically my attraction to men made the whole question irrelevant so fuck it. I choose me over fitting a label.

Being on testosterone has also made me even more certain that I'm childfree. I say even more, because I have known for around 15 years now that I don't ever want to be pregnant and I don't ever want to give birth. I also know now that I never want to be a parent by any other method either.

#hrt journal #op #personal #pregnancy tw

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philip-ks-dick · 3 years

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Philip K. Dick, For Dummies.

I’ve been researching PK.D for a few years now, as he’s my father’s favourite author and I’ve been watching movie and show adaptations of his work for the longest time. I have personally only read the books listed, here’s the order (I think) you should read them in, based on difficulty level and the knowledge you need of the PKD canon to understand the books that follow. This is purely my opinion based on knowledge of the author. by philip-k’s-dick (lol)

Beginner. (These books and stories allow readers to explore Dick’s pet themes and stylistic quirks without falling too far down the rabbit hole)

The Short Stories: Over the course of his life, PKD wrote somewhere in the range of 150 short stories. Naturally, it would be silly of me to dump all of them on you at once, but undeniably, the shorter format allows the big ideas of Dick’s work to come through more clearly, and even the screwier stories conform to relatively coherent shape, making them an excellent jumping off point, especially for an author who wrote almost nonstop throughout his life.

My Favourites:

In The Days of Perky Pat - In this novel, survivors of a global thermonuclear war live in isolated enclaves in California, surviving off what they can scrounge from the wastes and supplies delivered from Mars. The older generation spend their leisure time playing with the eponymous doll in an escapist role-playing game that recalls life before the apocalypse — a way of life that is being quickly forgotten. At the story's climax, a couple from one isolated outpost of humanity plays a game against the dwellers of another outpost (who play the game with a doll similar to Perky Pat dubbed "Connie Companion") in deadly earnest. The survivors' shared enthusiasm for the Perky Pat doll and the creation of her accessories from vital supplies is a sort of mass delusion that prevents meaningful re-building of the shattered society. In stark contrast, the children of the survivors show absolutely no interest in the delusion and have begun adapting to their new life.

(Elements of the story were later incorporated into Dick's novel The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, written in 1964 and published in 1965, in which a Perky Pat simulation game is induced by drugs and miniature models instead. Palmer Eldritch is not a continuation or sequel however.)

What the Dead Men Say - Death is followed by a period of 'half-life', a short amount of time which can be rationed out over long periods in which the dead can be revived—so that, potentially, they can 'live' on for a long time. When attempts to bring back important businessman Louis Sarapis fail, it's clearly more than mere negligence. Sure enough, Sarapis starts speaking from beyond the grave. From outer space, in fact. Yet no-one seems terribly bothered, other than those directly concerned in the plot mechanics. Eventually entire communications networks (phones, TV, radio) are blocked by Sarapis' broadcasts

(Philip's later novel Ubik is a continuation of What the Dead Men Say)

Autofac - Three men wait outside their settlement for an automated delivery truck. Five years earlier, during the Total Global Conflict, a network of hardened automatic factories ("autofacs") had been set up with cybernetic controls that determine what food and consumer goods to manufacture and deliver. Human input had been lost, and the men planned disruption to try to establish communication and take over control. They destroy the delivery, but the truck radios the autofac and unloads an identical replacement, then prevents them from reloading items. They act out being disgusted with the milk delivery and are given a complaints checklist. In a blank space, they write improvised semantic garble—"the product is thoroughly pizzled". The autofac sends a humanoid data collector that communicates on an oral basis, but is not capable of conceptual thought, and they are unable to persuade the network to shut down before it consumes all resources. Their next strategy sets neighbouring autofacs in competition with each other for rare resources and seemingly succeeds, but there is a hidden level

Beyond Lies The Wub - Peterson, a crew member of a spaceship loading up with food animals on Mars, buys an enormous pig-like creature known as a "wub" from a native just before departure. Franco, his captain, is worried about the extra weight but seems more concerned about its taste, as his ship is short of food. However, after takeoff, the crew realizes that the wub is a very intelligent creature, capable of telepathy and maybe even mind control.

Peterson and the wub spend time discussing mythological figures and the travels of Odysseus. Captain Franco, paranoid after an earlier confrontation with the Wub which left him temporarily paralyzed, bursts in and insists on killing and eating the wub. The crew becomes very much opposed to killing the sensitive creature after it makes a plea for understanding, but Franco still makes a meal out of him. At the dinner table, Captain Franco apologises for the "interruption" and resumes the earlier conversation between Peterson and the Wub - which now has apparently taken over the Captain's body

Human Is - Jill Herrick and her husband Lester are in the middle of an argument. Lester deflects his wife’s claim that he is “hideous” with cold indifference. He tells her that he will not allow their child in the house and will have him removed to government custody because he is interfering with his research. Before the distraught Jill can pass this onto their son Gus, Lester gets news that he will be taking a trip to Rexor IV. Despite Jill’s desire to go there and see the planet, Lester insists that he will go alone.

Later Jill tells her brother Frank and she is going to leave Lester. She explains how happy she has been with Lester gone and how he seems to be getting worse every year of their marriage. More cold and more “ruthless,” not to mention the incessant working.

Lester comes home a very different man. He praises Jill’s cooking and expresses disgust with his work on Rexor IV studying toxins. He says he prefers Terra and being home with his wife.

Jill reports these changes to Frank, while Lester is playing in the room with Gus. Frank has Lester brought to a lab for more studies under the guidance of the Federal Clearance agency. Before long they realize that Lester has had his body taken over by a Rexorian.

The Hanging Stranger - The protagonist, Ed Loyce, is a store owner who is disturbed when he sees a stranger hanging from a lamppost, but finds that other people consider the apparent lynching unremarkable.

He finds evidence that alien insects have taken over, manages to get out of town, talks to the police commissioner, who believes him, and after getting all the information about what Ed knows, explains that the body was hung to see if anyone reacted to it, anyone they didn't have control over. He then takes Ed outside and hangs him from a lamppost.

The Commuter - Ed Jacobson is a railway worker at Woking station. His life takes a turn for the worse when his son, Sam, begins experiencing psychotic episodes. When he is selling rail tickets at work, a young woman named Linda asks for a ticket to a destination called Macon Heights that is not listed on any map.

The Minority Report - In a future society, three mutants foresee all crime before it occurs. Plugged into a great machine, these "precogs" allow a division of the police called Precrime to arrest suspects before they can commit any actual crimes. When the head of Precrime, John Anderton, is himself predicted to murder a man whom he has never met, Anderton is convinced a great conspiracy is afoot

Full Books:

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? - Rick Deckard, a bounty hunter for the San Francisco Police Department, is assigned to "retire" (kill) six androids of the new and highly intelligent Nexus-6 model which have recently escaped from Mars and traveled to Earth. These androids are made of organic matter so similar to a human's that only a posthumous "bone marrow analysis" can independently prove the difference, making them almost impossible to distinguish from real people. Deckard hopes this mission will earn him enough bounty money to buy a live animal to replace his lone electric sheep to comfort his depressed wife Iran. Deckard visits the Rosen Association's headquarters in Seattle to confirm the accuracy of the latest empathy test meant to identify incognito androids. Deckard suspects the test may not be capable of distinguishing the latest Nexus-6 models from genuine human beings, and it appears to give a false positive on his host in Seattle, Rachael Rosen, meaning the police have potentially been executing human beings. The Rosen Association attempts to blackmail Deckard to get him to drop the case, but Deckard retests Rachael and determines that Rachael is, indeed, an android, which she ultimately admits.

Clans of the Alphane Moon - War between Earth and insectoid-dominated Alpha III ended over a decade ago. (According to the novel, "Alphane" refers to the nearest star to our own system, Alpha Centauri). Some years after the end of hostilities, Earth intends to secure its now independent colony in the Alphane system, Alpha III M2. As a former satellite-based global psychiatric institution for colonists on other Alphane system worlds unable to cope with the stresses of colonisation, the inhabitants of Alpha III M2 have lived peacefully for years. But, under the pretence of a medical mission, Earth intends to take their colony back.

Against this background, Chuck Rittersdorf and his wife Mary are separating. Although they think they are going their separate ways, they soon find themselves together again on Alpha III M2. Mary travels there through government work, Chuck sees it as a chance to kill Mary using his remote control simulacrum. Along the way he is guided by his Ganymedean slime mould neighbour Lord Running Clam and Mary finds herself manipulated by the Alphane sympathiser, comedian Bunny Hentman.

The Man in the High Castle - In 1962, 15 years after Imperial Japan and Nazi Germany have won World War II, Robert "Bob" Childan owns an Americana antique shop in San Francisco, California (located in the Japanese-occupied Pacific States of America), which is most commonly frequented by the Japanese, who make a fetish of romanticized American cultural artifacts. Childan is contacted by Nobusuke Tagomi, a high-ranking Japanese trade official, who is seeking a gift to impress a visiting Swedish industrialist named Baynes. Childan's store is stocked in part with counterfeit antiques from the Wyndam-Matson Corporation, a metalworking company. Frank Frink (formerly Fink), a secretly Jewish-American veteran of World War II, has just been fired from the Wyndam-Matson factory, when he agrees to join a former co-worker to begin a handcrafted jewellery business. Meanwhile, Frink's ex-wife, Juliana, works as a judo instructor in Canon City, Colorado (in the neutral buffer zone of Mountain States), where she begins a sexual relationship with an Italian truck driver and ex-soldier, Joe Cinnadella. Throughout the book, many of these characters frequently make important decisions using prophetic messages they interpret from the I Ching, a Chinese cultural import. Many characters are also reading a widely banned yet extremely popular new novel, The Grasshopper Lies Heavy, which depicts an alternate history in which the Allies won World War II in 1945, a concept that amazes and intrigues its readers.

Frink reveals that the Wyndam-Matson Corporation has been supplying Childan with counterfeit antiques, which works to blackmail Wyndam-Matson for money to finance Frink's new jewelry venture. Tagomi and Baynes meet, but Baynes repeatedly delays any real business as they await an expected third party from Japan. Suddenly, the public receives news of the death of the Chancellor of Germany, Martin Bormann, after a short illness. Childan tentatively, on consignment, takes some of Frink's "authentic" new metalwork and attempts to curry favour with a Japanese client, who surprisingly considers Frink's jewelry immensely spiritually alive. Juliana and Joe take a road trip to Denver, Colorado and Joe impulsively decides they should go on a side-trip to meet the mysterious Hawthorne Abendsen, author of The Grasshopper Lies Heavy, who supposedly lives in a guarded fortress-like estate called the "High Castle" in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Soon, Joseph Goebbels is announced as the new German Chancellor.

Intermediate. (These are the books to pick up once you have the basics of what makes a PKD novel down. They’re obtuse enough to hit a little heavier, but don’t provide the full dose of surrealism Dick was capable of serving up. This is also good spot to jump in if you’ve experienced weird fiction before.)

Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said - The novel is set in a dystopian version of 1988, following a Second Civil War which led to the collapse of the United States' democratic institutions. The National Guard ("nats") and US police force ("pols") reestablished social order through instituting a dictatorship, with a "Director" at the apex, and police marshals and generals as operational commanders in the field. Resistance to the regime is largely confined to university campuses, where radicalized former university students eke out a desperate existence in subterranean kibbutzim. Recreational drug use is widespread, and the age of consent has been lowered to twelve. The black population has almost been rendered extinct. Most commuting is undertaken by personal aircraft, allowing great distances to be covered in little time.

The novel begins with the protagonist, Jason Taverner, a singer, hosting his weekly TV show which has an audience of 30 million viewers. His special guest is his girlfriend Heather Hart, also a singer. Both Hart and Taverner are "Sixes", members of an elite class of genetically engineered humans. While leaving the studio, Taverner is telephoned by a former lover, who asks him to pay her a visit. When Taverner arrives at her apartment, the former lover attacks him by throwing a parasitic life-form at him. Although he manages to remove most of the life-form, parts of it are left inside him. After being rescued by Hart, he is taken to a medical facility.

Waking up the following day in a seedy hotel with no identification, Taverner becomes worried, as failure to produce identification at one of the numerous police checkpoints would lead to imprisonment in a forced labor camp. Through a succession of phone calls made from the hotel to colleagues and friends who now claim not to know him, Taverner establishes that he is no longer recognized by the outside world. He soon manages to bribe the hotel's clerk into taking him to Kathy Nelson, a forger of government documents. However, Kathy reveals that both she and the clerk are police informants, and that the lobby clerk has placed a microscopic tracking device on him. She promises not to turn Taverner over to the police on the condition that he spend the night with her. Although he attempts to escape, Kathy confronts him again after he has successfully passed a police checkpoint using the forged identity cards. Feeling in her debt, he accompanies Kathy to her apartment block, where Inspector McNulty, Kathy's police handler, is waiting. McNulty has located Taverner via the tracking device the hotel lobby clerk placed on him, and instructs Taverner to come with him to the 469th Precinct police station so that further biometric identity checks can be performed.

Time out of Joint - Ragle Gumm lives in the year 1959 in a quiet American suburb. His unusual profession consists of repeatedly winning the cash prize in a local newspaper contest called "Where Will The Little Green Man Be Next?". Gumm's 1959 has some differences from ours: the Tucker car is in production, AM/FM radios are scarce to non-existent, and Marilyn Monroe is a complete unknown. As the novel opens, strange things begin to happen to Gumm. A soft-drink stand disappears, replaced by a small slip of paper with the words "SOFT-DRINK STAND" printed on it in block letters. Intriguing little pieces of the real 1959 turn up: a magazine article on Marilyn Monroe, a telephone book with non-operational exchanges listed and radios hidden away in someone else's house. People with no apparent connection to Gumm, including military pilots using aircraft transceivers, refer to him by name. Few other characters notice these or experience similar anomalies; the sole exception is Gumm's supposed brother-in-law, Victor "Vic" Nielson, in whom he confides. A neighborhood woman, Mrs. Keitelbein, invites him to a civil defense class where he sees a model of a futuristic underground military factory. He has the unshakeable feeling he's been inside that building many times before.

Confusion gradually mounts for Gumm. His neighbor Bill Black knows far more about these events than he admits, and, observing this, begins worrying: "Suppose Ragle [Gumm] is becoming sane again?" In fact, Gumm does become sane, and the deception surrounding him (erected to protect and exploit him) begins to unravel

Ubik - By the year 1992, humanity has colonized the Moon and psychic powers are common. The protagonist, Joe Chip, is a debt-ridden technician working for Runciter Associates, a "prudence organization" employing "inertials"—people with the ability to negate the powers of telepaths and "precogs"—to enforce the privacy of clients. The company is run by Glen Runciter, assisted by his deceased wife Ella who is kept in a state of "half-life", a form of cryonic suspension that allows the deceased limited consciousness and ability to communicate. While consulting with Ella, Runciter discovers that her consciousness is being invaded by another half-lifer named Jory Miller

Difficult. (This section comes with a caveat: within these novels you will encounter numerous hallucinations, drug trips, an entire trilogy about gnostic spirituality and mental illness, and more than a little unabashed nightmare fuel. It’s normal to get tangled up in what goes on in these books. It’s also normal to be weirded out. But with proper grounding, you’ll make it though with your faculties intact. Probably.)

The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch - The story begins in a future world where global temperatures have risen so high that in most of the world it is unsafe to be outside without special cooling gear during daylight hours. In a desperate bid to preserve humanity and ease population burdens on Earth, the UN has initiated a "draft" for colonizing the nearby planets, where conditions are so horrific and primitive that the unwilling colonists have fallen prey to a form of escapism involving the use of an illegal drug (Can-D) in concert with "layouts." Layouts are physical props intended to simulate a sort of alternative reality where life is easier than either the grim existence of the colonists in their marginal off-world colonies, or even Earth, where global warming has progressed to the point that Antarctica is prime vacation resort territory. The illegal drug Can-D allows people to "share" their experience of the "Perky Pat" (the name of the main female character in the simulated world) layouts. This "sharing" has caused a pseudo-religious cult or series of cults to grow up around the layouts and the use of the drug.

Up to the point where the novel begins, New York City-based Perky Pat (or P.P.) Layouts, Inc., has held a monopoly on this product, as well as on the illegal trade in the drug Can-D which makes the shared hallucinations possible.

The novel opens shortly after Barney Mayerson, P.P. Layouts' top precog, has received a "draft notice" from the UN for involuntary resettlement as a colonist on Mars. Mayerson is sleeping with his assistant, Roni Fugate, but remains conflicted about the divorce, which he himself initiated, from his first wife Emily, a ceramic pot artist. Meanwhile, Emily's second husband tries to sell her pot designs to P.P. Layouts as possible accessories for the Perky Pat virtual worlds—but Barney, recognizing them as Emily's, rejects them out of spite.

A Scanner Darkly - When performing his work as an undercover agent, Arctor goes by the name "Fred" and wears a "scramble suit" that conceals his identity from other officers. Then he is able to sit in a police facility and observe his housemates through "holo-scanners", audio-visual surveillance devices that are placed throughout the house. Arctor's use of the drug causes the two hemispheres of his brain to function independently or "compete". When Arctor sees himself in the videos saved by the scanners, he does not realize that it is him. Through a series of drug and psychological tests, Arctor's superiors at work discover that his addiction has made him incapable of performing his job as a narcotics agent. They do not know his identity because he wears the scramble suit, but when his police supervisor suggests to him that he might be Bob Arctor, he is confused and thinks it cannot be possible.

Donna takes Arctor to "New-Path", a rehabilitation clinic, just as Arctor begins to experience the symptoms of Substance D withdrawal. It is revealed that Donna has been a narcotics agent all along, working as part of a police operation to infiltrate New-Path and determine its funding source. Without his knowledge, Arctor has been selected to penetrate the organization. As part of the rehab program, Arctor is renamed "Bruce" and forced to participate in cruel group-dynamic games, intended to break the will of the patients

(If this one seems difficult to wrap your mind around, that's because its a fictionalized account of real events, and you may need to read about Philip's life at the time to understand the autobiographical nature of the book.)

The VALIS Trilogy

(Fictionalized account of religious experiences in PKD’s life.)

VALIS - In March, 1974, Horselover Fat (the alter-personality of Philip K. Dick) experiences visions of a pink beam of light that he calls Zebra and interprets as a theophany exposing hidden facts about the reality of our universe, and a group of others join him in researching these matters. One of their theories is that there is some kind of alien space probe in orbit around Earth, and that it is aiding them in their quest; it also aided the United States in disclosing the Watergate scandal and the resignation of Richard Nixon in August, 1974. Kevin turns his friends onto a film called Valis that contains obvious references to revelations identical to those that Horselover Fat has experienced, including what appears to be time dysfunction. The film is itself a fictional account of an alternative-universe version of Nixon ("Ferris F. Fremount") and his fall, engineered by a satellite called valis. (The plot of the fictitious film Valis was that of Dick's then-unpublished novel Radio Free Albemuth.) In seeking the film's makers, Kevin, Phil, Fat, and David—now calling themselves the Rhipidon Society—head to an estate owned by popular musician Eric Lampton and his wife Linda. They decide the goal that they have been led toward is Sophia Lampton, who is two-years old and the Messiah or incarnation of Holy Wisdom (Pistis Sophia) anticipated by some variants of Gnostic Christianity. In addition to healing Phil's schizophrenic personality split, she tells them that their conclusions about valis (which Fat had previously termed "Zebra") and reality are correct, and more importantly, that we should worship, not gods, but humanity. She dies two days later due to a laser accident caused by Brent Mini. Undeterred, Fat (who has now resurged) goes on a global search for the next incarnation of Sophia.

Dick also offers a rationalist explanation of his apparent theophany, acknowledging that it might have been visual and auditory hallucinations from either schizophrenia or drug addiction sequelae.

Characters:

Phil (Philip K. Dick): Narrator (first person), science fiction writer, author of Man in the High Castle, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, and Three Stigmata.

Horselover Fat: Narrator (third person), a schizophrenic modality of Phil himself. (Philip in Greek means "fond of horses"; dick is German for "fat".)

Gloria Knudson: Suicidal friend of Fat's who Fat is unable to save.

Kevin: Cynical friend of Fat's whose cat died running across the street, based on K. W. Jeter.

Sherri Solvig: Church-going friend of Fat's, eventually dies from lymphatic cancer.

David: Catholic friend of Fat's, based on Tim Powers.

Eric Lampton: Rock star, screenwriter, actor, a. k. a. "Mother Goose"; a fictionalised version of David Bowie.

Linda Lampton: Actress, wife of Eric Lampton.

Brent Mini: Electronic composer, a fictionalised version of Brian Eno.

Sophia Lampton: Two-year-old child (personalised incarnation of Holy Wisdom within some variants of Gnosticism), said to be the daughter of Linda Lampton and valis and the "Fifth Savior".

The Divine Invasion - After a fatal car accident on Earth, Herb Asher is placed into cryonic suspension as he waits for a spleen replacement. Clinically dead, Herb experiences lucid dreams while in suspended animation and relives the last six years of his life.

In the past, Herb lived as a recluse in an isolated dome on a remote planet in the binary star system, CY30-CY30B. Yah, a local divinity of the planet in exile from Earth, appears to Herb in a vision as a burning flame, and forces him to contact his sick female neighbor, Rybys Rommey, who happens to be terminally ill with multiple sclerosis and pregnant with Yah's child.

With the help of the immortal soul of Elijah, who takes the form of a wild beggar named Elias Tate, Herb agrees to become Rybys's legal husband and father of the unborn "savior". Together they plan to smuggle the six-month pregnant Rybys back to Earth, under the pretext of seeking help for Rybys' medical condition at a medical research facility. After being born in human form, Yah plans to confront the fallen angel Belial, who has ruled the Earth for 2000 years since the fall of Masada in the first century CE. Yah's powers, however, are limited by Belial's dominion on Earth, and the four of them must take extra precautions to avoid being detected by the forces of darkness.

Things do not go as planned. "Big Noodle", Earth's A.I. system, warns the ecclesiastical authorities in the Christian-Islamic church and Scientific Legate about the divine "invasion" and countermeasures are prepared. A number of failed attempts are made to destroy the unborn child, all of them thwarted by Elijah and Yah. After successfully making the interstellar journey back to Earth and narrowly avoiding a forced abortion, Rybys and Herb escape in the nick of time, only to be involved in a fatal taxi crash, probably due to the machinations of Belial. Rybys dies from her injuries sustained in the crash, and her unborn son Emmanuel (Yah in human form) suffers brain damage from the trauma but survives. Herb is critically injured and put into cryonic suspension until a spleen replacement can be found. Baby Emmanuel is placed into a synthetic womb, but Elias Tate manages to sneak Emmanuel out of the hospital before the church is able to kill him.

Six years pass. In a school for special children, Emmanuel meets Zina, a girl who also seems to have similar skills and talents, but acts as a surrogate teacher to Emmanuel. For four years, Zina helps Emmanuel regain his memory (the brain damage caused amnesia) and discover his true identity as Yah, creator of the universe.

When he's ready, Zina shows Emmanuel her own parallel universe. In this peaceful world, organized religion has little influence, Rybys Rommey is still alive and married to Herb Asher, and Belial is only a goat kid living in a petting zoo.

In an act of kindness, Zina and Emmanuel liberate the goat-creature from his cage, momentarily forgetting that the animal is Belial. The goat-creature finds Herb Asher and attempts to retain control of the world by possessing him and convincing him that Yahweh's creation is an ugly thing that should be shown for what it really is. Eventually Herb is saved by Linda Fox, a young singer whom he loves and who is his own personal Savior; she and the goat-creature meet and she kills it, defeating Belial. He finally discovers that this meeting happens over again for everyone in the world, and whether they choose Belial or their Savior decides if they find salvation.

Characters:

Herb Asher: audio engineer

Rybys Rommey: mother of Emmanuel, sick with MS

Yah: Yahweh

Elias Tate: Incarnation of Elijah

Emmanuel (Manny): Yah incarnated in human form

Zina Pallas: Shekhinah

Linda Fox: singer, songwriter, Yetzer Hatov

Belial: Yetzer Hara

Fulton Statler Harms: Chief prelate of the Christian-Islamic Church (C.I.C), Cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church

Nicholas Bulkowsky: Communist Party Chairman, Procurator maximus of the Scientific Legate

VALIS: agent of Yahweh, disinhibiting stimulus

The Transmigration of Timothy Archer - Set in the late 1960s and 1970s, the story describes the efforts of Episcopal Bishop Timothy Archer, who must cope with the theological and philosophical implications of the newly discovered Gnostic Zadokite scroll fragments. The character of Bishop Archer is loosely based on the controversial, iconoclastic Episcopal Bishop James Pike, who in 1969 died of exposure while exploring the Judean Desert near the Dead Sea in the West Bank.

As the novel opens, it is 1980. On the day that John Lennon is shot and killed, Angel Archer visits the houseboat of Edgar Barefoot, (a guru based on Alan Watts), and reflects on the lives of her deceased relatives. During the sixties, she was married to Jeff Archer, son of the Episcopal Bishop of California Timothy Archer. She introduced Kirsten Lundborg, a friend, to her father-in law, and the two began an affair. Kirsten has a son, Bill, from a previous relationship, who has schizophrenia, although he is knowledgeable as an automobile mechanic. Tim is already being investigated for his allegedly heretical views about the Holy Ghost.

Jeff commits suicide due to his romantic obsession with Kirsten. However, after poltergeist activity, he manifests to Tim and Kirsten at a seance, also attended by Angel. Angel is skeptical about the efficacy of astrology, and believes that the unfolding existential situation of Tim and Kirsten is akin to Friedrich Schiller's German Romanticism era masterpiece, the Wallenstein trilogy (insofar as their credulity reflects the loss of rational belief in contemporary consensual reality).

The three are told that Kirsten and Tim will die. As predicted, Kirsten loses her remission from cancer, and also commits suicide after a barbiturate overdose. Tim travels to Israel to investigate whether or not a psychotropic mushroom was associated with the resurrection, but his car stalls, he becomes disoriented, falls from a cliff, and dies in the desert.

On the houseboat, Angel is reunited with Bill, Kirsten's son who has schizophrenia. He claims to have Tim's reincarnated spirit within him, but is soon institutionalized. Angel agrees to care for Bill, in return for a rare record (Koto Music by Kimio Eto) that Edgar offers her.

The Transmigration of Timothy Archer is one of Dick's most overtly philosophical and intellectual works. While Dick's novels usually employ multiple narrators or an omniscient perspective, this story is told in the first person by a single narrator: Angel Archer, Bishop Archer's daughter-in-law.

Characters:

Angel Archer: Narrator, manager of a Berkeley record store, widow of Jeff Archer.

Timothy Archer: Bishop of California; father of the late Jeff Archer and father-in-law of Angel. Dies in Israel, searching for psychotropic mushroom connected with Zadokite sect. Based on James Albert Pike, Dick's personal friend, who was an American Episcopalian bishop.

Kirsten Lundborg: Timothy Archer's secretary and lover. Dies from barbiturate overdose after loss of remission from cancer.

Bill Lundborg: Kirsten's son who has schizophrenia, and who is obsessed with cars.

Edgar Barefoot: Houseboat guru, radio personality, lecturer. Based on Alan Watts.

Jeff Archer: Son of Timothy Archer, and deceased husband of Angel. A professional student who was romantically obsessed with Kirsten.

Thank you, if you read all of this. it took me six hours today to write this all

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bedlamsbard · 3 years

Text

Part two of the Caleb and Loth-wolf concept! I am tentatively planning for this to be a five things fic, but I am absolutely unwilling to commit to that at the moment. This follows part one; technically it’s backstory for The Starry Crown, but its relevance there isn’t in any of the posted chapters and it stands on its own.

About 4.7K below the break.

***

When Caleb had a question about anything, which was often, because he didn’t like not knowing things and he liked the satisfaction of having a proper explanation to fill empty spaces in his knowledge of the universe, his preferred method was to pester the crèche masters until he was satisfied by their responses. But this time he didn’t want to let Master Krell know about Rroshaal, since if Rroshaal had wanted Krell to know about him he would have stayed with Caleb instead of disappearing.

So instead, Caleb went to the library.

Caleb liked the library. It was quiet and while sometimes the Knights and older padawans working there looked askance at his presence, no one had ever kicked him out, though he had on occasion been steered away from some of the more restricted sections. Master Nu, upon once finding him struggling to fetch out a holodisk shelved out of his reach because he was intrigued by the symbols on the spine, had shown him how to use the computers to search the Temple databases. Caleb’s log-in was keyed to his DNA and he hadn’t yet figured out how to get around that, so his access was fairly restricted compared to what even an initiate or older youngling might have gotten, but it was better than not having it at all, and he could lose hours scrolling through seemingly endless amounts of information. Sometimes he didn’t even recognize the redactions where information that wasn’t appropriate for his level had been hidden.

He waited impatiently through his last few lessons for the day, which he normally liked but wasn’t in the mood for, then practically ran out of the classroom and towards the library. Caleb made his way through the mazelike corridors of the Jedi Temple with the ease of long practice. He could have done it blindfolded; younglings trained and played that way, placing their trust in the Force and their other senses so that they didn’t become overly reliant on their eyes. This time he didn’t bother.

It was late enough in the day that most of the diurnal species in the Temple – the majority of them – had gone to dinner, either to eat in their rooms or the crèche or one of the big public halls or the gardens. Caleb bounced excitedly into the library and looked around for a free computer. The few Jedi still there looked around at his entrance, indulgently amused at his arrival. Caleb waved at them cheerfully and went over to the nearest computer, raising the seat up until he could see the screen clearly. He poked at the keyboard with his index fingers, trying to think of what the best search terms for Rroshaal’s species were.

Half an hour later, he had found all sorts of canines and felines and other mammals which varied from adorable to terrifying, but nothing that matched his memory of Rroshaal. They varied on the sentience scale, and if Caleb hadn’t been so focused on finding Rroshaal’s species he might have dropped everything to go beg the crèche masters for a miniature hamerlok puppy, but as it was he filed that away to think about later.

Caleb ended up in the library often enough that he knew better than to waste time searching for something when he didn’t know the best way to do so or didn’t have the necessary access. He looked around for one of the librarians and saw Master Nu coming towards him; she had found him on one of his research spirals a dozen times before and knew his pattern. He waved at her and she smiled at him.

“What are you looking for, Caleb?” she asked, resting a hand on the back of his chair.

Trying to sound as grown-up as possible, Caleb turned towards her and said, “I’m trying to identify another species, but I haven’t been able to find him – them.”

“A sentient species?”

He nodded. “But not a humanoid.”

“Someone you saw here in the Temple?”

Caleb bit his lip. Technically he had seen Rroshaal in the Temple, but he didn’t want to admit to Master Nu that he had been in the underlevels, and that wasn’t what she meant anyway. She was asking if he was talking about another Jedi, or maybe one of the civilians who were in the Temple sometimes. “I had a vision?” he said tentatively. It was partially true, after all; Rroshaal had shown him his species through the Force, and that was sort of like a vision. And he had seen Rroshaal with his own eyes, which was technically vision even if it wasn’t a vision. “I read a holobook,” he added, almost immediately afterwards. He read lots of holobooks.

Master Nu looked amused, but didn’t comment on the two contradictory explanations. “Do you know what this other species of yours looks like?”

Caleb nodded firmly. “Big. Furry. Sort of like canines – maybe like lupines. I don’t understand the difference,” he admitted. He pointed at the screen, which was still open on the image of the miniature hamerlok, which was a domesticated subspecies of an Alderaanian predator. It looked a little like Rroshaal had, except much smaller and less fluffy, and the wrong color, though the entry said they came in lots of colors. “Like that. But not. And they can use the Force. And they live in grasslands.”

“Hmm,” Master Nu said. She thought for a moment, then leaned over his shoulder. “Has anyone shown you how to use species identification software?”

Caleb perked up. “That exists?”

“It’s often used by law enforcement, but many Jedi find it useful for other purposes as well,” Master Nu explained. “Most Jedi don’t have to use it until they’re padawans.”

Caleb bounced excitedly at this new information, moving his chair to the side so that she could bring up the program. She had to enter her own ID and log-in information, then adjust the access levels so that Caleb would be able to use it without having someone else log him in. He watched excitedly as she showed him how to cycle through different physical traits, slowly building an image on the screen of Rroshaal as Caleb remembered him. When he was finished, the program offered him a list of possible species that matched the criteria Caleb had inputted.

“Do any of these look right?” Master Nu asked. “From your holobook?”

Caleb shrugged. “No, Master. Can we look at all of them?” There were fewer than a dozen, ranked in order of most to least likely.

“That’s usually the best way to do it.”

Caleb carefully put his finger to the first option, which read TUK’ATA/SITH HOUND (MORABAND). As soon as the new window opened, he shook his head, but read the entry anyway, fascinated, then looked up at Master Nu. “They can’t really all be evil, can they? I mean, if you got a pup and raised it here in the Temple – or away from the Sith worlds, anyway –”

“I can’t recall whether anyone has ever attempted it, but looking up their history might be a good research project for you,” Master Nu said, bemused. “It does seem like the sort of thing someone would have tried, especially during the aftermath of the Sith Wars.”

“I want to try,” Caleb declared.

“That is the sort of experiment that will have to wait until you’re at least a padawan,” Master Nu told him firmly. “Since you would have to go to Moraband to find one – every attempt to traffic them offworld has failed. That’s something else you could look up another time.”

Caleb nodded and closed the window. He touched the next item in the list, LOTH-WOLF (LOTHAL), and as soon as it opened, said delightedly, “That’s him! But they’re not extinct?” he added, seeing the first line of the entry.

“Why do you think that?”

“I saw him. I talked to him.” Caleb remembered abruptly that he didn’t want to explain how he had done so and said quickly, “In my vision.”

Master Nu quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to tell me about your vision?” she asked. “Or perhaps talk to one of the masters who specializes in seeing?”

Caleb shook his head so rapidly that his learner’s braid hit him in the nose. “I have to figure it out on my own,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster when he was lying through his teeth. He copied the information carefully to his data storage account, then went back to get the tuk’ata information too while Master Nu went to find him some more books on Loth-wolves, after first making him promise that if he had another vision he would bring it to her or one of the other masters. Since if he ever actually did have a vision that was more than the flashes of precognition that gave Jedi their reflexes he was planning to tell everyone he knew, Caleb promised this solemnly.

Master Nu came back a few minutes later with a stack of holobooks for him – one a survey on Force-sensitive semi-sentient creatures and non-humanoids, one a travelogue from a Jedi Master who had mapped out many of the known Force-strong worlds, and one a history about Force-users who partnered with non-humanoids or semi-sentients. Caleb quietly thought that both “semi-sentient” and “non-humanoid” didn’t describe Rroshaal at all, but he wasn’t about to tell Master Nu that. Well, the non-humanoid part was true, but it didn’t really sum up what Rroshaal was.

He put the books carefully in his bag, noting that the history book was past his usual access level and wondering why, thanked Master Nu, and hurried off to the nearest dining hall. Dinner was still being served; even if he had missed it there was always food available somewhere in the Temple, though sometimes you had to do a bit more searching to find it. He wrapped a dozen meat pasties in a napkin along with two pieces of his favorite spice cake, then wrapped them in another napkin before putting them in his bag and making sure his water bottle was still mostly full. No one paid him any attention – he had found one of the dining halls that was mostly used by Knights and masters, a few of whom he knew, but everyone in the Temple was used to everyone else occasionally doing odd things. He waved at a Kiffar Knight who was one of his teachers in staff-fighting and left, grabbing a jogan fruit from a bowl as he did so.

He had to pause outside the hall and think about the best way to get down to the underlevels, since he wasn’t supposed to go there. After getting caught down there the previous day he probably really wasn’t supposed to go there, but it wasn’t like every youngling didn’t do it at one point or another. Like almost everything else in the Temple, there were lots of ways to get there, but Caleb thought that it was probably best if he chose one of the entrances closest to where Rroshaal had left him. He wanted Rroshaal to be able to find him again, but he didn’t want to get caught by Master Krell or any of the other crèche masters, either.

Decision made, he went trotting off. It took him longer to reach the underlevels than he had expected, since he was coming by a different route, but eventually he reached the bottom of the last staircase and hesitated, looking around. He had taken care to bring a glowstone with him this time so he wouldn’t get caught in the dark again, even if he couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt a little like cheating. What Caleb should have had was a lightsaber, but he wouldn’t have a lightsaber until after he had had his Gathering, and his cohort wouldn’t go on their Gathering for at least another two years, maybe even three or four.

“Rroshaal?” he called into the quiet, waiting dark of the underlevels. From here it just seemed like empty, unused space, but Caleb knew that it wasn’t. Further away – and further down – the underlevels deteriorated into a series of mazes, layers and layers of ancient temples built on top of each other. He’d read a book on it – well, he had run across it in a history, but when he went looking for more books he had found that they were beyond his access level, and Master Nu couldn’t be convinced to give them to him anyway. Caleb thought he might ask again, now that he had the excuse of having been caught down in the underlevels. He might as well use it for something. Maybe he could convince Master Krell and Master Nu that having to write a report on the history of the underlevels was an appropriate punishment.

“Rroshaal?” he called again. “It’s Caleb Dume. Rroshaal?”

There was no response. Caleb hesitated, wondering if he ought to go further in and away from the stairs. Maybe Rroshaal wouldn’t want to come this close to the entrance to the rest of the Temple, even though he had brought Caleb back yesterday.

He stood there for a few minutes, calling occasionally and hoping both that there weren’t security cams down here and that no one could hear him from the next level up.

There was no response.

Caleb stood there on the last step, feeling heat gather in his cheeks from embarrassment. He’d thought that Rroshaal had liked him. He was on the verge of going back to the crèche to palm off all the pasties on his crèche-mates when he thought suddenly, no. He had been acting like Rroshaal was a dumb animal, like the charhound pup one of the older initiates was fostering. Not that the charhound wasn’t very intelligent, but it wasn’t exactly a person, and Rroshaal was.

He reached with the Force, concentrating on his memory of Rroshaal’s strong sense of personality, and let his mind sink down into the vergence the Temple was built on. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to do that because vergences were dangerous – even Knights and masters weren’t supposed to do that – but Caleb thought that because he more or less knew what he was doing with it that he probably wouldn’t lose himself in the Force. He remembered what Rroshaal had told him yesterday, about the vergence where he lived and being able to move between that vergence and the one under the Temple. In a way, every vergence in the Force was one. They were unique – but at the same time they were also one.

Rroshaal? he thought, layering his memory of Rroshaal’s strong personality onto it. With rare exception, Jedi weren’t telepaths, but for their first few years in the crèche they didn’t have to speak to each other with words, either; they had the Force for that. Rroshaal, it’s Caleb Dume. He added his own mental signature to that, the emotional overtones in the Force that would tell another Force-user that it was him, Caleb Dume, and not someone else.

He could feel the weight of the Force as he opened himself to it. It was like the lake that he had seen on Alderaan when his cohort had visited the planet the previous year, the deep lake that was actually a rift in the planet’s surface and was more than ten kilometers deep. It pulled at him, at the surface of his mind; Caleb was aware of it – of it fluttering at the edges of his consciousness, bits and pieces of things that had happened in the past, that could have happened in the past, that were yet to come, of people who were long dead or were yet to be born or might never be born, of his people and the enemy of his people and all of those who touched the Force in their own way, whether they were Jedi or not.

He had never gone that deep into the Force before. He hadn’t meant to do so now.

He fought aside his instinctive panic, knowing that, like the lake, if he panicked he would drown. Caleb concentrated hard on his memory of Rroshaal, forcing himself to ignore the insistent whispers of almost-sound and the flickering almost-sight at the edges of his mind. Jedi were will. He wouldn’t let himself be swayed from his intention, now that he had set himself upon it.

Jedi were the Force. Whatever it was trying to show him, he already knew – he already was, or would be, or could be. All things were true at once in the Force.

Not trying to show him, he thought, a little dizzy. Do or do not. There is no try.

Caleb stopped fighting the almost-visions and let them pass through them instead, still keeping his mind on Rroshaal. He felt – bigger, somehow, older, as if his body no longer quite fit him in his dim awareness of his own physical form. But it wasn’t not his body, either; there was nothing unfamiliar about it. Caleb accepted that and let his call to Rroshaal roll out again, noting absently that there were layers in his mental signature that he had never been consciously aware of before. But they had always been there, of course.

He felt an instant of sleepy surprise, then acknowledgment.

They came from outside himself and were accompanied by a strong sense of place; Caleb tasted prairie winds and the rock-smell of an unfamiliar world, the warmth of lazing in a sun he had never stood under.

Certain that he had been heard, Caleb dragged himself uncertainly out of his trance. Reality fluttered around him; Caleb could feel it flexing, as if someone had shaken out a sheet and each fold held a different possibility, a different time, a different place. Then, before he had time to panic, it settled again, leaving him gasping in the dim light of the underlevels.

He sat down heavily on the steps.

After a moment he dug in his bag and came up with the jogan he had grabbed in the dining hall, which he ate slowly. One of the earliest things that younglings were taught was to eat or drink something after an intense meditation session, because it reminded them that while they might be the Force and full of light, they still had physical bodies. Caleb ate the jogan in small, neat bites, concentrating on its taste and how it felt in his mouth, and eventually got out of his datapad to read the database entry about Loth-wolves that he had gotten from the library computers. He had finished both and set the datapad aside so that he could wrap up the jogan pips to throw away later when he heard the soft click…click… of approaching claws on the marble floor.

He saw Rroshaal’s glowing eyes first, coming out of the darkness of the underlevels.

Caleb stood up to greet him, momentarily startled by how big Rroshaal was – he’d somehow forgotten. Rroshaal came up to him and ducked his head to nuzzle thoughtfully at Caleb’s hair, then licked Caleb’s face in a greeting.

“Hello!” Caleb said happily. “You came!”

Rroshaal licked his face again. He had been napping, he told Caleb; it was the middle of the day on his homeworld, and most of his people slept then. Caleb got the brief impression of windswept grasslands, too hot under the summer sun for Rroshaal to want to be out in.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he said. “It’s dinner time here. I’ve got dinner,” he added. “If you want?”

Rroshaal made an inquisitive sound and lay down as Caleb dug in his bag for the pasties. He laid most of them down on the cloth for Rroshaal to sniff at, but kept two for himself, watching Rroshaal eat each one in two bites. Interesting, was his observation when he was finished.

“It’s ronto, I think,” Caleb said; he was only halfway through his first one by the time Rroshaal had finished. “Do you have rontos on your world? They’re saurians, they live on desert worlds mostly, and a lot of ranchers breed them for meat.” He pictured the holos he had seen; he hadn’t seen one in person yet.

Rroshaal’s response was in the negative. Hoppers, he replied to Caleb, along with a strong sense of a big four-legged mammal that moved by leaping from its hindmost feet; it used its front legs more like arms and Rroshaal had a strong, vivid memory of being punched in the nose by one during his last hunt. The memory was accompanied by a strong, gamey taste of raw meat that made Caleb blink, a little startled. Lopers. This seemed to encompass several different kinds of hooved herbivores, some of which were nearly as big as Rroshaal and some of which were much smaller. They moved in herds and ran fast, leaping across the grasslands when the pack hunted them. Horrible birds. These were flightless birds two or three times as tall as Caleb, taller than Rroshaal, with toothed beaks and talon-like feet; Rroshaal showed him the scars another Loth-wolf had from being attacked by one some years earlier, but added that they were tasty after you brought them down. Others. He got a flickering sense of what his instructors would have called “a healthy ecosystem,” and recognized a few species he had seen in holos before. Or relatives, anyway, but you saw convergent evolution on many worlds, and colony worlds especially.

Rroshaal sensed the thought and made a little whuff in the negative. Too much prey, he told Caleb. Horrible birds kill some, but only on one continent. Used to be more hunters. Caleb got a hazy impression of several kinds of big felines and avians; the haziness was because they were extinct and Rroshaal had never seen them himself, only through the passed-down memories of other members of his pack.

“Colonists killed them?” Caleb asked, remembering one of his classes. It happened a lot.

Rroshaal made an affirmative sound. Others, he said again, showing Caleb several animals he recognized.

“Those are nerfs,” Caleb said. “They’re all over the galaxy. People breed them for meat and fur. And the little saurians are nunas. They’re meat animals too. I can’t remember what the fluffy ones are, but I’ve seen holos of them before.”

Tasty, Rroshaal observed, licking his lips. Then he laid his chin down on his paws and added sadly, Not enough pups.

That reminded Caleb. “I read about you!” he said. “I looked you up in the library. You’re a Loth-wolf.”

Rroshaal flicked an ear, bemused by the name. The People, he said instead.

“I know, but most species call themselves something like that. I’m a human.”

Rroshaal raised his head and snuffled thoughtfully at Caleb’s knees for a moment before saying doubtfully, You’re People. You feel like People, even if you don’t smell like People.

Caleb put his hands out for Rroshaal to sniff, then lick clean of lingering crumbs. “I’m a Force-user – a Jedi. Maybe that’s it.”

Rroshaal whuffed again, dubious.

“You’re supposed to be extinct,” Caleb said, then hesitated, unsure if he had hurt Rroshaal’s feelings. Instead he just felt the Loth-wolf’s resigned weariness.

Not enough pups, he said again. It took Caleb a few moments to sort through the flurry of information that accompanied the words; Rroshaal had been the only pup in his pack to live more than a year in the last decade. Pups had been born dead or had gotten sick and died soon afterwards. He had heard that other packs were just as badly off.

Caleb said shyly, “We – the Jedi – are having problems too. I heard the crèche masters talking about it with Master Windu and Master Yoda once. There used to be thousands more Jedi than there are now – there are whole sections of the Temple that are shut up – and the cohorts keep getting smaller and smaller. Even two hundred years ago you’d have cohorts of dozens, but mine is only three people, and the ones after me are the same. About twenty or thirty years ago all of a sudden the Temple started getting large cohorts again – large by current standards – and that lasted for about twenty years before they suddenly started dropping off in size. The senior padawans now are from the last few large cohorts. The masters don’t know if not as many Force-sensitive younglings are being born or if they’re just not being found.”

Rroshaal made an inquisitive noise.

“I don’t know all of it,” Caleb admitted. “When babies are born in Republic medcenters, they’re required to have a lot of tests run, and one of those is for midichlorian count. That gets passed onto the Order if the parents consent, and if it’s high enough then someone – usually the Sector Watchman – will check on them regularly. Just because you have a high midichlorian count doesn’t mean you can be a Jedi, though, so the Watchmen have to keep checking, and of course if the families refuse then they won’t. Outside the medcenters it’s mostly just the will of the Force.” He stared longingly at Rroshaal’s soft-looking ears, wondering how rude it would be to ask Rroshaal if he could pet them. “I was born in the Temple.”

Rroshaal’s ears flicked forward, interested.

“It’s not usual,” Caleb admitted. “It happens once or twice a generation, but usually even if one or both parents is a Jedi then the baby won’t be strong enough to be one too. I was. That’s not rare, but it’s not common, either.” He shrugged in response to Rroshaal’s question. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter who they are. If I hadn’t been strong enough in the Force to be a Jedi I would have gone to one of their birth-families if they wanted.” He hesitated, then admitted, “I heard once that one of them is an old military family on Coruscant, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. And it doesn’t matter anyway since I’m a Jedi.”

People, Rroshaal insisted.

Caleb spread his hands for Rroshaal to see. “Not People, not like yours,” he said. Then he got the cake out of his bag and offered one piece to Rroshaal, who sniffed it with interest, then sneezed. “It’s spice cake,” he explained. “It’s my favorite.”

Rroshaal ate it out of his palm in several delicate bites, then lay licking his teeth thoughtfully as Caleb ate his own piece of spice cake. Good, he decided finally, then gave Caleb a grin, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Different.

He licked Caleb’s hands clean when Caleb held them out again, then flicked one ear back as if he had heard someone calling him. I have to go, he said regretfully. My mother wants me.

Caleb had the brief impression of a bigger version of Rroshaal, brown and with a scarred ear, whom Rroshaal regarded with occasionally frustrated adoration. He said wistfully, “Can I see you tomorrow?”

We’ll be away, Rroshaal said, and Caleb could tell that he genuinely regretted it. Embassy to another pack. He thought, then said, Nine days?

“How long are your days?” Caleb asked, then realized that Rroshaal probably didn’t count time in hours. “I’ll look it up.” He hesitated, then added, “Can I hug you?”

At the affirmative response, they both stood up, and Caleb carefully put his arms around as much of Rroshaal’s furry front as he could manage. He was just as soft as Caleb remembered from the previous day and smelled of clean fur and unknown winds, a little musky. Rroshaal tucked his muzzle down against Caleb’s back, then licked his face after Caleb released him. Caleb curved the backs of his knuckles against Rroshaal’s cheek, carefully stroking the short fur there, then giggled as Rroshaal rubbed his cheek against Caleb’s smooth one.

Soon, he promised, then, Bring more of the cake-thing.

“I will,” Caleb said.

Rroshaal licked his nose, then backed away. Caleb must have blinked, because one moment Rroshaal was there, then the next he had vanished into the shadows of the underlevels.

Caleb sighed regretfully and rubbed the back of his hand over his nose, the scooped up the discarded cloths and stuffed them into his bag. He had a lot of reading he wanted to do before he saw Rroshaal again.

#cut scenes and concept writing #caleb and the loth wolf tag #comics caleb is a tiny nerd #as always comments are appreciated #eta: yes I DO have a partially written concept for caleb's extended birth family; the forbidden backstory

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shiredded · 3 years

Text

Random wildfire evacuation tips from california

Fire far away, or it's just fire season

Pack your Emergency kit Important documents, water, etc. Google what you should put in yours. There's a lot of resources.

Plan where to go It's gonna SUCK if you're scrambling to figure out who can take you in when there's only a few hours to pack. A friend is ideal but hotels will work too. If they're decent places they will only have a minimal fee for fire victims. Make sure your destination is pet friendly if you have those. Some hotels will make exceptions, call them.

Microchip your pets You should do this anyway but you could lose your pet while 50 miles away from home and this will help it find you again. They'll be scared and confused in a new neighborhood.

Find a reliable source of information Check to see if your county website or fire/police department has a place for updates. You want accurate information from the source, not from a neighbor or a stranger.

Eat all the icecream Depending on the evacuation, You will want to empty your fridge and freezer, so the weeks leading up to this are perfect for clearing out those tater tots

Keep your gas tanks full You never know when you'll have to drive several miles to find an open gas station.

Fire preparedness on your property Another thing to look up in more detail, they will give you measurements on clearing brush/branches etc. Sometimes this is the difference between a kind of smoky house and literal ashes.

Safety gear This will get scarce the closer a fire comes. You need N95 masks/respirators. Your covid masks will not filter smoke. Only take as much as you need to evacuate, because other agencies (like livestock evacuators) need them more.

Evacuation Warning

This means you MIGHT get evacuation orders, but not yet Make sure you know what the terms mean for your local district. This period can last hours or weeks, depending on the fire.

ONLY trust official information sources If a stranger runs up to your house and tells you that it's a mandatory evacuation and they're here to help, don't trust them. Watch them every second if you let them help and don't turn your back. They may rob you as soon as you hand them your valuable keepsakes.

Double check your destination Call your friend/hotel/etc to make sure they still have room for you.

Start packing Grab your dirty laundry basket: its all clothes you like/have worn recently and you can wash it later. You really only need a few hours to pack and evacuation warnings can last weeks, so it's more identifying what you should pack and starting on the more time consuming bits now.

Only pack what can't be replaced heirlooms, hobby items, artwork, photographs, etc. You can buy a new TV I promise. If you have fire insurance they will help pay for that.

Find your pets and livestock Bring your pets into the house and know where their supplies/carriers are. There may be organizations in your area that specialize in evacuating your livestock, so look those up.

Lock up for looters A horrific problem, but that's the reality. You won't be around to watch your property so looters will go around trying doors so they can steal from people in crisis. This is the main reason that law enforcement will/should be in the area. Plan to take expensive equipment inside, like table saws, motor/bikes, generators etc, and lock them up. Whatever is outside is easy pickings. If you leave any vehicles, lock them, even in the woods where everyone is kind and safe. The looters are not your neighbors, they will drive in from out of town to rob and vandalize evacuated places.

Check on your neighbors Especially elderly neighbors who may not be tuned in to what's happening or not taking it seriously. Fundamentalist religious people tend to be difficult. Make a note if you think someone is going to sit on their porch with a rifle instead of leaving.

Request help Get help if you need it from neighbors or community resources. If you don't have a car, don't worry. Someone somewhere has one and they truly do want to help you. Get everyone's names and contact information so you can keep track of each other. Social media is generally where this stuff tends to happen, so dust that off and see what you can do.

Mandatory Evacuation

All that planning pays off You will likely have a few hours to pack, but depending on the fire you can have just minutes or seconds before they pull you from your house. Evacuation orders usually have a "get out by" time on them.

Children and pets Find these and get them ready to go first. Do not let them wander off because you don't want to be scrambling for them later. Cats in carriers, dogs in a room or pen. Other animals in appropriate travel gear. Keep them indoors until everyone is ready for the car, because smoke can hurt/kill them (birds are especially sensitive)

Most important stuff first This is your emergency kit. Medication is extremely important. Harddrives, photos, documents, computers, etc, all goes in first. Next is clothes and toiletries. They'll make your evacuation less chaotic. Then valuables like jewelry, cameras, stuff that would be hard to replace. At this point your car should be pretty full.

Empty the fridge If you are evacuated for weeks and the power goes out, you do not want to know what happens in there. Throw it all in a garbage bag and put it outside. It's better to discard food now than discard your whole fridge later (they cannot be saved, trust me)

Check on your neighbors again If someone refuses to leave, let law enforcement know so they can handle it. They will either convince the person or make a note of their location for firefighters to worry about if the fire gets too close.

Lock every door and window you can Bring valuable outside stuff indoors and lock it down. This will deter looters looking for an easy target. Lock your cars, sheds, barns, etc.

Do not go back Law enforcement will be controlling the road during an evacuation. They might let you go back for forgotten things, or they might stop you completely. If you left a pet, they will notify the pet rescue teams (generally trained and certified volunteers) Basically assume you can't go back until the order is over.

Evacuated

Uncertainty Hunker down and prepare for a fight. Being evacuated can last between a day and several months (if your town got half burned, etc) Know ahead of time that you won't know much.

Official sources of information may be wrong The fire map sometimes reads smoke and might tell you your house is toast when it's not. Eyewitness reports are more trustworthy at this point. But know that you might not know anything for certain for a long, long time.

Seek out resources There will be food, supplies, and housing opened up for evacuees, depending on your community. Look up your area and take advantage of what applies to you.

Looters will follow you People will stalk fire victims and break into their cars and take everything they own. This can happen a hundred miles away from the fire, so keep your car in your sights if you can. Hotel parking lots are especially dangerous, so ask if security can patrol that area extra vigilantly. Sadly, robbers will also drive through tiny rural neighborhoods looking for an unusual amount of cars and will rob those. Take your MOST valuable things into the house/hotel room etc to keep them safe.

Your mental health Everything is going to suffer during an evacuation, so make sure you're doing selfcare to keep yourself ready for new challenges. Take time to cry and scream and kick rocks. Connect with other fire victims and you can emotionally support each other.

Going home Most evacuations are precautions, and everything will be fine when you get back. It's going to be a pain to unpack all that stuff again, but it would have been worth it if you lost your home.

Do it all again next year The climate crisis is bringing drought, plant-drying heat, and dry lightning storms to places we all thought were safe. Fires are hard to control, but your evacuation isn't. You'll be alright, and eventually rain will come. It gets easier every year and it really helps you identify what you value in life.

Help others If you're in no dangers, search up where to volunteer to help fire victims. Maybe you'll train as an evacuation response team and go into fire zones to rescue animals! Maybe you'll help out at a soup kitchen. Maybe you'll open your home to strangers who need a place to stay. Be the human kindness you'll need for yourself one day.

TLDR: The more you plan, the better. Round up kids and pets first. Lock all your doors because looters will rob you, or follow your car and rob that. Connect with your community to give and receive help.

#fire #wildfire #evacuation #fire evacuation #evacuation tips #fire season #shire screams

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