#Precious Pages Corporation

[astercontrol]

If KOSA passes

Or if any other form of censorship (there are many in the works!) ever succeeds at stepping in to impede our ability to communicate online:

We have to make plans.

Now, I dunno who'll even see this post. The few followers I have are TRON fans (who despite the fantasy we live in, tend to have realistically dismal views IRL about Disney and the various corporate uses of software).

And this fandom, on average, is pretty tech-savvy. It's where I've encountered the most people under 20 years old who actually know how to use a desktop or laptop computer.

So, if there's any hope for what I'm thinking about, this is prolly a good place to start with it.

(As with all my posts, I encourage reblogging and containment-breaching.)

(Gifs are clips from TRON 1982, mainly the "deleted love scene," from the DVD extras.)

Anyway.

Current society has moved online communication much too far onto major social media sites for my comfort. Whoever you communicate with over the internet, chances are you do it through a service owned by a big company: Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, Telegram, Facebook, whatever. Even TikTok (shudder).

These sites, despite their many flaws, can provide experiences that are valuable and hard to get otherwise. And once all your friends are on one site, you can't just leave and stay in touch with them all, not unless they all go the same place. It's easy to see why it's hard to abandon any social media platform.

But a backup plan is important. Because, as we've seen over and over, social media sites can't be relied on. They change their policies suddenly, without good reason-- and are inconsistent, even discriminatory, about enforcing those policies.

If they're funded by ads, the advertisers are their main customers, and your posts are the product. Their goal is that the posts most valuable to the advertisers get seen by people the advertisers consider desirable customers.

Helping you communicate-- making your posts get seen by the people you want to communicate with-- is optional to them.

Not to mention that the whole business model of an ad-funded website is generally unsustainable. Many of these sites are operating at a loss, relying on shareholders in a fragile bubble, doomed to fail soon just from lack of real profit.

And the more restrictions --like KOSA-- that the law puts on freedom of online speech, the likelier they are to go down or just become unusable. Every rule a site is required to follow is another strain on its resources, and most of them are already failing badly at even enforcing their own self-imposed rules.

If we want any control over our continued ability to stay in touch with our online friends-- we need to have a backup plan. Maybe it'll be simple at first, a bare-bones system we cobble together-- but it's gotta be something that will work. For a while at least.

There are lots of really good posts about ways to build your own website, using a service like Neocities. I VERY MUCH recommend learning this skill-- learning to make websites of the very simplest, most stable, glitch-resistant type, made of html pages-- which you can upload to a host while you store backups on your home computer. If you value the writing and art that you put online, this is probably the safest you can keep it.

But that's for making your own creative work public.

As for communicating with others-- for example, receiving and answering other people's comments on your work-- that gets more complex. I personally haven't found it worthwhile to troubleshoot the problems that come with having a system that allows visitors to comment publicly on my website.

But what we do still have-- and likely will for a long time-- is email.

Those of us who came of age before social media's current hold... well, we might take this for granted. Email was the first form of online contact we ever encountered… and thus it can seem to us like the most ordinary, the most boring.

But in the current world, it is a rare and precious thing to find a method of communicating that doesn't require everyone in the chat to be signed on with the same corporation.

Email is, as of now, still perfectly legal-- as much as social media companies have been trying to herd the populace away from it. I'm sure there are other ways to share thoughts online that are not bound by laws. But I am not going to go into that here.

Email service is provided by law-abiding companies, which will comply with subpoenas if law enforcement thinks you are emailing about doing illegal things. So, email is not a surefire way to be safe, if laws become dystopian enough to threaten your freedom to talk about your own life and identity.

But it's safer than posting on a public social media page.

For now.

Email is beautifully decentralized. You can get an email address many different ways-- some reliant on a company like Gmail, others hosted on your own domain. And different people, with all different types of email addresses, hosted in all different ways-- can all communicate together by the same method.

Of course any of these people, individually, can lose their email address for some reason or other, and have to get a new one. But as long as they still know the email addresses of their contacts, they can reconnect and recover from that loss. The structure of a group linked by email is reliant not on a single company-- but on the group itself, the friends you can actually count on.

This is why I am trying to promote the idea of forming email lists, as a backup plan to give people a way to stay in touch as mainstream social media sites prove to be unsustainable.

I'm envisioning a simple system of sending emails to several addresses at once, and making each reply visible to everyone in the chat by using "reply all" (or, if desired, editing the To field to reply to only some).

If enough people get used to using email in this way, it could fill most of the needs met by any other group chat or forum …without depending on a centralized social media company that's taking dystopian measures to try and make the business profitable.

So here are some thoughts about how I personally imagine it could work.

(Feel free to comment and bring up any thoughts I haven't addressed, or suggestions to customize how specific groups could set it up. This is meant as more of a starting point for brainstorming than a catch-all solution.)

As I see it, here are the basics of what you and your friends would each need to start out:

An email address. Any kind, hosted anywhere. You should use a dedicated email account just for this group, one that you do NOT use for other communication. Being in this group will result in things you don't want happening to your main email address-- like getting a TON of email, one for every post and reply. Or someone could get your email address that you really don't want any contact with. Use a burner email account (one that you can easily replace) and change it if needed.

The knowledge of how to "REPLY ALL" in your email. This will be necessary in order to add a comment that everyone in the group can see.

The knowledge of how to EDIT THE "TO" FIELD in your email, and remove addresses from the list of all recipients. This will be necessary if you want to CHANGE WHICH PEOPLE in the group can see your comment.

The knowledge of how to FILTER WORDS in your email. This will be necessary if a topic comes up that you don't want to see any mentions of.

The knowledge of how to BLOCK PEOPLE in your email. This will be very important. If someone joins this email group who you do not want to interact with, it will be up to you to BLOCK them so that you do NOT see their messages. (If they are bad enough to evade the block with multiple burner accounts, that's what you have a burner account for. Change it, and share the new one only with those you trust not to give it to them.)

Every person in the group will be effectively a "moderator" of the group, able to remove people from it by cutting their email addresses out of the "To" field. Members will all have equal "moderator" privileges, each able to tailor the group to their own needs.

This means the group may naturally split, over time, into other groups, each one removing some people and adding others. Some will overlap, some won't. This is good! This is, in my opinion, what online interaction SHOULD be like! There should be MANY groups like this!

In this way, we can keep online discussion alive, no matter WHAT happens to any of the social media websites.

If the dystopia got bad enough to shut down email, we could even continue with postal mail and photocopies, like they did in the days of print-zine fanfiction.

If it looks like the dystopia is gonna come for postal mail too, we'll use the connection we have to preserve whatever contacts we can with people who live near us.

Not saying it's GONNA get that bad. But these steps of preparation are good no matter exactly what kind of bad stuff happens.

As long as some organized form of communication still exists, we'll have a place where it's at least a little safer to be your true self…

to plan events and meetups…

and maybe even activities a little too risque to make the final cut of a 1982 Disney movie.

They're trying to censor us. We want a Free System. So we're gonna fight back.

For the Users. Not the corporations.

Peace out, programs. <3

#tron #tronblr #tron 1982 #userworldproblems #diy punk #censorship #kosa #internet literacy #email #solutions

[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: your worst night followed by a wonderful day, are you slowly going crazy? Maybe, but you'll get out of here no matter what

─Warnings: blood, self-harm, anxiety attack, hallucinations, obsession, toxic behaviors, stalking, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

The blank pages: Part One

YOU TRY to control your shaky breathing, no one would take away the poor quality of sleep you had at this point in your life, but having nightmares right now was the last straw that broke your patience.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your face was slightly wet because you needed to splash yourself to clear your thoughs, the cold water didn't help much anyway, you slapped your cheeks with moderate force hoping the feeling of mental numbness would go away, but again it didn't work.

"What the hell is wrong with me…?"

You touched your right cheek, slightly red from the previous blow, focusing your gaze on the reflection of the sink mirror, you were a complete disgust, never, not even in your worst period of exams, had you seen yourself so emaciated, the dark circles and bags under your eyes, the lack of color in your face, your frizzy hair, its lack or decrease, bloodshot eyes… you could continue to despise yourself while you stare at your reflection for hours, bringing out each of your flaws.

But there was one that bothered you beyond your appearance, your lack of emotions, your lack of thoughts, you refused to show anything other than a blank expression to those people who ruined your life, you refused to have to think complex things while they took care of everything, not being able to do anything on your own you began to stop complicating your life by thinking about solutions.

Who were you? What were your goals? Your tastes? When did your memories start to become blurry? When was the last time you really smiled? Were you real? Or just a corporeal desire of psychopaths eager to have something precious to protect? Since when was everything so gray, so monotonous? Did you still consider yourself a person with rights and freedom? When did you start accepting this?

"Hey… Hey!"

Focusing your lost vision again in the mirror, you weren't very surprised that you were hallucinating after having a brain as soft as baby food, it was you, maybe a couple of years younger who was speaking to you through the reflection, your mouth opened but no words came out as if you were a fish out of water.

"What's happening? Is this the future that awaits me? You're pathetic! Look at you… Where the hell is your stupid smile? You used to smile a lot before, why…? Why have I become a puppet?"

Your words mixed with a murmur, feeling how your heart squeezed painfully in your ribcage, your mind deciding to continue the macabre game of your existential crisis, replaying memories with your family and all the warm moments that kept you sane until now. You closed your eyes hoping that the hallucinations would disappear, but you only managed that instead of visuals they were audible, reproducing words of affection from your parents in a loop like torture, the breathing exercises you did before to calm yourself stopped working now, you bit your lip so hard that you ripped off some skin, not enough for you because you started running your nails down your arms, leaving red marks from the friction and force.

"You're better than this, what's all this whining about?! Get up and stop being a coward! You will only drag me into this meaningless future!"

"Shut up…"

"Are you even worth anything? You're so boring, I don't understand how those sorcerers want to protect you."

"Shut up."

"Are you going to cry to sleep like always? You are a disgrace, you are lucky, lucky that someone can love you so much, what would you do without them? They are much better than your own parents, accept it, accept it, they love you unconditionally! Even without knowing who you are or how you feel, even without knowing what your purposes are, they will love you! Accept your desti-"

"I said shut the fuck up! Silence!"

You shook your whole body, holding your head, you hit it a couple of times against the wall, so hard that even a couple of tiles fell off, a few drops of blood fell from your head, but you didn't care, the voice, your voice, it was gone, you swallowed your own poison, locking your inner, dark thoughts deep in your brain.

Your mind continued numb for a couple more minutes where all you could hear was a faint sound of static and a constant beeping, but it was more calming than having to listen to your own voice in that twisted way. Getting up once you calmed down a little, your reflection returned to normal, you splashed your face with cold water again, cleaning the blood on your head, nails and lip, taking one last look at your pitiful person, with your head still full of unknowns.

"Why is this happening to me?"

You rub your eyes tiredly, cleaning up the mess you had made, you decide to lie down on the cold bed once more, tucking yourself in and looking at the ceiling waiting for your body to magically disintegrate into ashes, too pretty to be real, when you realize the rays of light make your eyes hurt and sting, one more sleepless night, a new day awaits.

Faking and ignoring your nighttime crisis you get up to do your morning routine, being greeted by an overly cheerful Nobara as you passes through the dining room to look for some breakfast, you couldn't say the same for Megumi, who looked much more tense than normal, you didn't know where the others were but you didn't care much either, and Nobara and Megumi didn't say anything about your appearance, whether they noticed it or not, you're just glad they decided not to ask anything.

"You look like you've experienced the worst existential crisis of your life."

You spit out what you were drinking when you heard Maki just enter, from her appearance you could tell that she had gone out for a run early in the morning, Toge and Panda followed behind her, everything fell into a silence that was too uncomfortable for you because they stared at you carefully, completely ruining your efforts to hide your bad appearance.

"Just a bad dream…?"

You mumbled, avoiding everyone's gaze, Toge approached you, patting you on the head as if that would help you, although it was the most comforting thing you felt this week, it didn't feel as forced as other interactions.

To your relief, everyone continued with their things, while you ignored what they were talking about and continued eating breakfast, their talk became louder than usual, you frowned at this, deciding to listen lightly to the conversation, you froze when you remembered what they were talking about, the Kyoto school exchange, even though you didn't sign up for that stupid ceremony, as a student you had to, at the very least, be present, but you knew that a large concentration of sorcerers would only cause you more problems than solutions.

You knew why Megumi seemed so tense when the other students showed up, they didn't seem to have a very friendly relationship, they all seemed quite focused on the rivalry between high schools, which made you happy since the focus of attention wasn't on you, but rather in Itadori since he seemed to be targeted by the Kyoto school just for being Sukuna's vessel. The bad thing was that you had to stay in the teachers' room, with Gojo and a couple of other guys, the good thing was that you fell in love, Utahime was your spirit animal, definitely someone to admire just for her hatred of Gojo.

"So, why don't you want to compete? I can tell that you have quite a bit of accumulated cursed energy."

"Aww, meeting my favorite student? Well that's a delicate topic she doesn't-"

"I'm not talking to you, shut up."

You smiled internally when you saw Gojo's kicked dog expression, who didn't even let you talk to Utahime, she looked at you again, completely ignoring the albino's presence, it was, the first time since you arrived here that you felt like you were having a normal conversation with someone outside your life, someone disinterested in your protection, it was the most real interaction you had since then and it had to be ruined, not by Gojo, not by any student… curses, a planned attack, a lot of chaos was caused that you barely understood.

"Don't fight and don't try anything weird, although I'll know anyway, stay safe!"

It was the last thing Gojo said to you before leaving with the others to see what was happening outside, you couldn't have cared less about his words, and although locking you in your room was the main idea, your wires got crossed with your little sanity, if everyone was distracted by a greater evil you could use that to your advantage.

Since both sorcerers and curses were completely absorbed in their stupid fight, you used that to go outside, first it was a couple of meters, you didn't notice anyone, the capsule didn't stop you from leaving, so you walked further away, elated by your minimal achievement, you started running as fast as you could, reaching the busy streets of the city, smart enough not to go near the places Nanami frequented.

It had been a long time since your heart had been beating like this, so wild that you thought it might come out of your throat, you coughed for air once you stopped in a park, collapsing on the ground, you lied there, you laughed like a crazy person, some tears escaping of your eyes as you looked at the sky brighter than ever. You couldn't believe it, you were alone, with no one watching, you could feel all the positive emotions hitting you, there were so many sensations that you didn't know how to feel, but definitely much more relieved.

The smile on your face was indelible, you were happy, the world at this moment was painted in much more vibrant tones, the palette stopped being a constant tone of gray, you smiled at children, the elderly, you caressed animals, you bought a few flowers and then randomly give them to some people, completely in a bubble of happiness.

Although the bubble had to burst at some point, whether due to your subconscious or the pass of time, you knew that your sudden disappearance would only cause more of a stir, you wish you were left for dead, but you know those sons of bitches wouldn't have that in mind unless they saw your death with their own eyes or found your inert body.

Using your last moments of happiness, you decided to treat yourself to some of your favorite sweets, saying goodbye to the clerk who served you with one of your best smiles, you took the long way to the jujutsu high school, hoping to delay your reunion with your "loved ones" as long as possible.

"Stop there! Aren't you the missing girl? You've given us an incredible headache, come on, I'll take you back."

Someone you hadn't bothered to meet grabbed your wrist, pulling you without even waiting for you to react, analyzing her appearance, she was quite similar to Maki, maybe a family member.

"What a pity, sorry for the headache, but can you let me go? I know the way Maki number two."

At this moment the least you wanted was a confrontation, but your mood had not completely dropped, although now you were a little more upset than happy, your emotions overflowed, causing you to be a more sarcastic and sassy version of yourself.

Mai stopped instantly when she was called Maki number two, you had definitely found her weak spot, which turned into a passive-aggressive chat between the two of you, you would have been angry, but you couldn't be angry when you enjoyed the criticism you were giving each other, honestly it improved your day and you felt more human than before.

"Oh thank goodness you're fine! I thought those dirty curses had kidnapped you!"

Nobara didn't waste a second in hugging you as soon as she saw you, Itadori following her a second later, you assured them that you were okay not wanting everyone to crowd around you as the others also wanted to ask where you had been and why you disappeared when they were under stroke.

You drowned out the emotions you poured out during the day, swallowing everything, turning your expression blank as you felt Gojo's powerful gaze on you, everything calmed down for the next few minutes, the two schools finished the meeting and the Kyoto students left, before that you decided to exchange phones with Utahime.

Once you got rid of your companions, you locked in your room, unlike many other nights, you threw yourself on the bed, grabbing a cushion and screaming as if you were one of those teenagers in love in those saccharine series, you moved your legs in the air by pressing the cushion tighter between your arms. Changing your posture, you looked up at the ceiling just like the night before, with the big difference that now you couldn't contain your emotions, you giggled, biting your lip lightly, not noticing the wound you got earlier.

You saw it, you saw light at the end of the tunnel, ─not that way of course─, you saw how a door opened before your eyes, a new opportunity to free yourself from the chains that kept you captive with all these psychopaths, experience freedom after so much time made you delirious, made you imagine that you could get rid of them, that they would leave you alone, even if it was risky, your only option was to escape, run away from everything and everyone without thinking twice, without thinking about what can happen in the future, you would give everything to re-experience what you felt today when you ran away.

You sighed dreamily as you remembered the feeling of freedom, closing your eyes, not worrying about whether you were going to be able to fall asleep today or have another boring game of chess, oblivious to the blue eyes that watched from your window.

"It seems like someone is in her rebellious stage, maybe she need some restrictions…"

He muttered, unhappy with your disobedience but excited to see you happy, he didn't think he would see it so soon, your smile was beautiful just the way it was and you decided to hide it like that for them? They were only worried about you, why did you have to keep all that to yourself? They wanted to be part of your happiness, couldn't you understand it? Well, they will make you understand it no matter what.

Once he made sure that your breathing was stable, he entered your room, kissed your forehead like every night, only this time he sat next to you, caressing your head slowly, observing how, even while asleep, your silly smile was still painted on your face, the flash of his phone made you frown slightly, but you didn't wake up.

"I hope you rest well today, I'm sorry for not helping you the night before, but if I had come in you would hate me more, wouldn't you?"

He said to himself, closing the door slowly, giving you one last look before leaving, he sent the photo to the group chat he had with his students, reviewing the last photos where any of the four were able to capture something more emotion than indifference. Just like you, the small display of emotions only opened another door for them, that small display of freedom for you and emotions for them, was simply another trigger for your problems, after all, the more you move, the more you get tangled in the web.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #reader insert #fem reader #x reader #web of love #yandere platonic jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x platonic reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #platonic reader #platonic yandere #platonic relationship #jjk x platonic reader #jjk x fem reader #jjk x reader

[treasureofmammon]

September together

Characters: Mammon x gn!reader

Warnings: Gender neutral reader. Mention of pervy thoughts, but no description or details given. Just fluff. Kinda long, sorry!

Summary: September is Mammon's month, but so it's yours. For his birthday, you ask what does he want, and it seems like you two might be on the same page.

[Note 1: The following characters belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. This is a mere work of fan-fiction.

Note 2: GN!Reader - This is one of my first times sharing what I write, so please be kind. English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. Also, I use italics for thoughts and/or memories. I came up with the idea because my birthday is on September too. I thought it was kind of fun to share the birthday month with my 2D boo].

✨️💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛✨️

It's late, although it's hard to tell the exact time when looking out the windows: the infinite, eternal darkness of the Devildom is hard to decipher.

Beel and Belphie blow out the candles on their huge cake. One side purple, with beautiful silver star decorations; and the other, red, with small golden suns around it. Two huge candles above, one in the shape of a waning moon and another in the shape of a radiant sun. And the delicious aroma of vanilla, strawberries and chocolate that emanates and fills the dining room.

This time you had given your soul to this huge edible piece. The twins smile blushing: this large cake handmade by you was the best gift they had received in many years.

Beel and Belphie look at each other tenderly, Beel puts his hand on his brother's shoulder and, with a puppy smile, says: "Happy birthday Belphie". Belphie smiles, his facial expression is calm and sleepy, and yet it is full of affection towards his brother: "Happy birthday Beel."

Asmo sighs with a smile, and you know what he's thinking. He confided it to you not long ago: Asmo has always longed for that complicity that the twins share. You look at him for a moment and feel a slight sadness, hidden behind a centuries-old loneliness and trapped between jealousy and happiness for his younger brothers. Your hands leave your pockets and you try to approach him with the intention of pampering him a little, only to be intercepted by Belphie.

Belphie takes your hands in his, looking at them carefully. There are red, purple and blue spots on them. It's from the dye of the cake gloss that you couldn't wash off completely.

- "...your hands..." -says Belphie.

Mammon hides his hands behind his back, pulling at the long sleeve of his jacket, hoping it will cover the stains on his own hands. Mammon isn't exactly the most skilled cook out there, and yet he helped you all afternoon making this enormous cake for his youngest brothers.

Meanwhile, Belphie runs his index finger over the stains on your hands, his touch is gentle and careful, and though it looks innocent, it harbors a deep carnal desire. Though you can't decipher it. Sometimes you're so airheaded about this kind of thing. But Lucifer and Asmodeus do notice, they both realize it and their faces contort, looking at the hidden intentions of their brother, who is yet another rival. A dangerous and stealthy one.

-"You sure worked very hard for us, Y/N."

You smile, answering: -"It wasn't just me, you know? Mamm-"

Suddenly, a hand covers your mouth. Although the movement was quick and unexpected, the contact is gentle. Mammon looks down and meets your gaze, his hand still in your mouth, the other holding your wrist. His touch is so sweet and so serene for a moment full of adrenaline. As if you were a precious crystal that could break at any light touch. His brothers are surprised by his strange outburst.

Except Leviathan.

Levi sighs and slowly looks away, tired of the furtive actions that suddenly arise, out of nowhere, between you and Mammon. They are so hateful: the stolen glances, the way your eyes share long talks in a matter of seconds, the secrets you two tell each other quickly through laughter, the way you two gravitate around each other wherever you are. And then, back home, how your steps synchronize and your gazes meet from time to time between smiles that say so much even though the words don't come out. That tension, which is like now's.

As Mammon looks at you deeply and carefully, you realize that this is another one of those rare times when he does something for his brothers and doesn't want the credit. You don't move and just continue to stare at him. And although there are no words or body movements, Mammon understands that you understand.

Slowly and carefully, he removes his hands from you.

"What was that, Mammon?"- says Satan.

Maybe it's because of how quickly things happened, but it's not until that moment that Belphie sees the stains on Mammon's hands. As Belphie watches, Mammon puts his fists in the pockets of his jacket. He then looks at Satan and responds with a huff, -"Nothing".

"You could have hurt them..." - Satan responds. Is not true. As they argue about how Mammon stopped you, you think that his surprise attacks make your heart beat faster until it threatens to burst out of your chest. And, as their argument continues, you feel a sweet burning in your stomach, and your heart beats faster and faster. Now you can't stop thinking about his hands and how he grabbed your wrist fiercely and placed the other gently on your face. The friction between the palm of his hand and your lips, just a moment ago, the hand of the person you love was in your lips. Soft hands that hold you and touch you gently. You run your index finger over your mouth and think, "Would a kiss from him be this soft?"

Your thoughts are interrupted by Belphie: -“Y/N, when's your birthday?” The discussion stops and everyone looks at you expectantly: -"In September, the day is the..."

Mammon's eyes light up, and his facial expression changes. He is no longer angry with Satan or arguing with his brothers. Suddenly, he feels like he shares something special with you, as if what you already share wasn't enough and that it doesn't make Levi and the others jealous.

"September? It seems like that month we will celebrate twice as much" - Lucifer smiles and looks at you fondly. You've become another person to care for, part of his big family, home.

You smile sweetly, and if you weren't so clueless, you would have noticed that the seven brothers feel as if the air lightens and many flowers appear around you every time you tilt your face, close your eyes and your lips curl up. They love you so much, and you love them too. And yet, their love is not like yours: innocent and serene.

Except for Mammon.

Mammon is the person you love the most and who you seek the most. You share your daily life with him and pray that he doesn't notice your feelings because what would happen if he finds out and then your friendship can't continue? And yet, you can't hide how much you adore him.

Mammon is usually a living contradiction: how can someone be so wonderful and so careless at the same time? How can someone be so kind and so selfish at the same time? How can someone be so generous and so greedy at the same time? Mammon is a demon, and yet he behaves like an angel towards you.

Your gaze falls on each of the seven faces in front of you, but it rests long on that of Mammon. Your eyes meet his. You feel your heart beating fast and yet you can't stop looking at him with so much affection.

His cheeks redden, the heat of the blood pumping to his face and his head spinning. He also thinks about your lips, the way the palm of his hand touched your mouth, so delicate and so tender, and he thinks: "Would a kiss from them be that soft?"

✨️💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛✨️

The leaves fall to the ground, you can barely notice their orange color. The trees lose their color and look sad, forgotten.

You think of the branches swaying in the wind. It is difficult to discern the shapes well, after all, it is always night here. The coming autumn means that your birthday is near and so is Mammon's.

You look away from the window to your right because you feel a familiar weight on your left shoulder. White hair and golden skin, the soft snore that comes from his mouth. You let out a slight smile.

"I love you" -you think- "I love you so much..."

"Mammon, Avatar of Greed, wake up or leave the classroom!" the teacher shouts, and Mammon wakes up groggily.

On the way home from RAD, you walk alongside Mammon like every day. It's the same old routine, but you love it. You love hearing his footsteps so close to you, his slim and defined body, much more taller than you, exuding so much warmth. It is a feeling of care, as if his body is emitting protection.

You swear that every day you walk closer to each other and you wish you could hold his hand until you reach HoL.

"I love you so much, Mammon. Do you love me?"

Hearing Mammon laugh thanks to your comments and jokes is one of the best things; then, a little push, and the rubbing of your uniform coat against his makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. Seeing his blue eyes full of light, you could swear that just that is what true joy is. Laugh with him and laugh at him; all the moments shared feed your heart.

It's already September... - he says.

Yes. It will be your birthday soon- you answer.

And yours- he grins.

What do you want for your birthday, Mammon? -

Mammon looks at you perplexed. You anticipated to his question. "I want you". Of course, this is just a thought of his, but now Mammon blushes. He can't stop thinking about you that way. If his brothers knew his deepest thoughts, they would wrap you in wrapping paper with a bow on your head and hand you to Mammon. Or maybe not, maybe everyone would hide you from him and his desires. Because Mammon's thoughts for you are carnal and lascivious, and yet they are full of love. They are not simply born from desire, rather, desire is born from his feelings for you: some pure, some dirty, some innocent, some perverted.

And as you look at his face and how his gaze evades you, you think about what you want for your birthday. And you cant help to think: "I want you". Your face turns red too.

The truth is that you can't live like this anymore. When did being with him, in this swing of emotions and crossed messages, become painful? You run and leave him behind. You want to cry, but try to hold it until you get into your room, and that must be fast.

Hey! Wait!- Mammon shouts.

You can't wait, what's wrong with you?, you left him behind. Suddenly, you feel something holding you back. Or rather, someone. Mammon stops you, holding you from your wrist -Why are you running?!

You can't escape Mammon. Did you forget that he is the fastest demon in the Devildom? Perhaps the fastest being in all the realms?

Hey... - his hoarse voice sounds more masculine than other times -What I want for my birthday..., I can't tell you. But the closest thing you can give me is to spend the day with me, okay? You can give me any present, but let's just...-

Your face turns to look at his. Red like a tomatoe. Something clicks in you. You remember what Levi once told you:

- I think there is no one who admires you more than Mammon does...

And you finally understand what he meant: Levi was not referring to Mammon's admiration to your efforts to be among the best students in the class, nor to how you have managed to adapt quickly from the human world to this one, nor to how you have managed to give yourself your place, and instead, you have made great friends, and definitely not to your bravery in front of Mammon or any of his brothers to avoid their fights or to defend him from Lucifer. Levi was referring to...

-Well, what do you want for your birthday? - Mammon tries to change the subject and thus hide his embarrassment.

-I... -Suddenly you become aware of the landscape around you. In the infinity of the night of the Devildom. Next to you, a lake that reflects the countless stars, the wind that blows gently, six pairs of footprints far in the distance, unable to hear you two. This is the moment. You feel it. The autumn air and the eve of your birthdays. Everything, all of this screams to you that it is the moment. After all, you've waited too long. Every day your heart darkens if you don't say it soon, if you don't say it now. From March to September, way too many months.

-I want a kiss from you, Mammon...-

You've never felt braver, it's like suddenly everything makes sense. Especially when you see his reaction. And how could you not confess like that when he looks so handsome; because the night light illuminates his face: his skin shines like grains of sand under the sea, his white hair has a pearlescent glow, and his blue eyes share the same color of the immensity of the ocean and, somehow, in this forever dim light is so noticeable. Mammon is like looking at a summer landscape on a beach in the human world. You know why you love him now, it reminds you of home: of the beaches that you visited as a child. His warmth and his affection it's like feeling the sunlight under the summer sun. Relaxed, free, happy.

Summer in Autumn.

Mammon lets go of your wrist, his facial expression displaying immeasurable surprise. Suddenly, the noise of the wind on the water reminds him of a conversation with Solomon that he had in this very same place not long ago:

-You don't know what to buy to Y/N for their birthday? Why don't you ask them what they want?

-You two are humans, right? Tell me what to give them. Aren't ya Solomon, whatever, the wise?

Solomon laughs.

-What's so funny?

-You. You are really funny, Mammon. Have you not noticed that their soul shines brighter when they are with you?

"I'm pathetic...", he thinks, "they were the one who had to confess first, and not me". You feel like you are being pushed forward. Your face falls onto his chest, and his arms wrap around you -I'm gonna steal ya on yar birthday, and I won't give ya a kiss, I'll give ya a thousand. No. Millions. And, and, and...-

You look up and meet his eyes, his bright red face, you notice his embarrassment and at the same time, his joy. Two such dissonant emotions can only coexist in moments like this.

-And will I have to wait so long for a kiss?-

Mammon glups and then, closed his eyes, taking courage, trying to keeping his bravado. But he realizes that at this moment, it is now impossible. -No, can I?- he asks, slightly shaking.

- Please, Mammon. You have no idea how long I've waited for you...- you say, your voice almost breaking.

A common thought appears in your heads as your lips met, a dim reminder of March 11th:

✨️ "No, their lips were softer than I imagined..." ✨️

📌 Masterlist

#Treasure of Mammon writing #mammon's birthday 2023 #happy birthday my sweet fallen angel #happy birthday mammon #mammon's birthday #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon #mammon avatar of greed #obey me! #mammon fluff #mammon obey me #mammon x mc #om! mammon #mammon x gn!reader #mammon x y/n #mammon x you #mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #september #happy birthday #happy birthday to myself

[gachabastard]

Limbus Company Sinners as Fallen London Companions

Smashing my two hyperfixations together like dolls and making them kiss. What I'm seeking (lol) to do here is not to conflate the Sinners to existing Companions, but rather create Companions based off of them instead. If you know both things then this won't take any explaining.

For people who know Limbus Company but not Fallen London: Fallen London is a browser game made by Failbetter Studios. It is an alternate history of an 1800s London that has sunk deep below the earth into a subterranean cavern known as the Neath and is now overseen by the mysterious Masters of the Bazaar. You begin the game as a Surface-dweller who has recently descended into the Neath for certain reasons, which you are able to decide for yourself and act upon as you progress through the game. Companions are "equipment" of sorts that you can equip to increase (or lower) your character's stats. A full write-up of FL's mechanics could be another three separate posts on its own, so I recommend the wiki's Beginner's Guide and other resources therein to understand the mechanics I'll detail here. If you enjoy the writing in LCB you will most likely also love FL's writing. Please play it, it is awesome. (And lmk if you do, I'll add you as a friend and definitely not stab you in the back)

For people who know Fallen London but not Limbus Company: Limbus Company is a mobile game made by Project Moon. It is the third in a series of games, preceded by Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina, which are both available for purchase on Steam, though Limbus Company can be played independently of these if you want; the player avatar is an amnesiac so things are generally explained as needed (though Lobcorp and LoR are also very good and I recommend them, but you do have to buy those, so). The game centers around a department of the titular Limbus Company, the Limbus Company Bus Team (often shortened to LCB), the twelve individuals referred to as Sinners who make up the team, and their amnesiac Manager named Dante as they brave the ruins of the old branches of Lobotomy Corporation to retrieve strange objects known as Golden Boughs. All of the major characters in LCB are based off of classic literature (for example, Dante is based off of Dante's Inferno). If you like FL's writing you may enjoy LCB, but it is a gacha game which turns a lot of people off. For character info you can visit the Fandom wiki (yeah I know, it's a Fandom wiki), and if you want to read the story so far without playing the game you can check out this github page which contains all of the story text.

And if you don't know either...I don't know why you're reading this, but I hope my explanations and provided resources are enough to help you understand it regardless.

Okay, wall of text out of the way, let's get into the actual point of the post. This isn't meant to be balanced or anything this is just for fun because I'm diseased. Also LIMBUS SPOILERS THRU CANTO VI sorry.

Starting off with Sinner #1, Yi Sang:

Mirror-Marred Litterateur In the Mirror's glass, he observed endless possibilities. One such possibility observed him back. Watchful +4, Glasswork +2, Bizarre +1

Reasoning: Honestly? I thought about Sang Yi chilling in Parabola and that colored my whole concept here. But for real the whole Mirror thing is too perfect. Yi Sang defines Glasswork.

Sinner #2, Faust

Hell-Touched Engineer She hasn't the eyes of a devil, but builds infernal machinery previously unseen outside of Hell. Claims to know all outcomes, but shares precious little. Dreaded +2, Artisan of the Red Science +2, Decreases Nightmare build up

Reasoning: Something something Faust something something Mephistopheles something something her base EGO heals SP.

Sinner #3, Don Quixote

Dreaming Knight The only weapon stronger than a dream is delusion. Dangerous +5, Mithridacy +2, Increases Scandal build up

Reasoning: DQ is so skilled in Mithridacy she's got herself convinced of untruths, man. She's also allowed little a Scandal. As a treat.

Sinner #4, Ryoshu

Bohemian Blademaster Her masterwork blade is her brush; her enemies, her canvas. Legend has it that even the Boatman respects her work. Dangerous +4, Dreaded +2, Monstrous Anatomy +1

Reasoning: I feel like this one's pretty self-explanatory. I added a point of MA since I feel like she'd want to be a bit knowledgeable in monster anatomy for Art Reasons

Sinner #5, Meursault

Chained Stranger "The Neath is a prison," he says matter-of-factly, "And I am here because I am meant to be." Despite this, one could swear they saw the sun reflecting off his eyes. Persuasive +2, Respectable +3, Reduces Scandal build up

Reasoning: Hehe did you see what I did there. I referenced the thing. Anyway aside from being pretty blunt, he's probably the best candidate out of the whole group for Respectable.

Sinner #6, Hong Lu

Bright-Eyed Debonair New to the Neath, from an affluent Surface family. The Neath's many delights confuse and excite him. Persuasive +2, Shadowy +1, Kataleptic Toxicology +1

Reasoning: I think Hong Lu being new to the Neath fits with him being sheltered in canon. Also +1 KA cuz you know that boy is hittin that Honey. The Honey-Dens of Veilgarden already know him by name.

Sinner #7, Heathcliff

Bereaved Ruffian He knows the backstreets of London like the scars on his hands. He remembers that which the world does not, and waits. Dangerous +8, Shadowy -3, Chthonosophy +1

Reasoning: Oops Canto VI colored the fuck out of this one oops oops oops. Happy Firmament Day btw have some Chthonosophy. :)

Sinner #8, Ishmael

Zeefaring Pathfinder She's hunted the most feared creatures known to the Zee, losing her way to chart a path for her mad captain. Her compass will see that she never loses sight of her path again. Zeefaring +2, Monstrous Anatomy +3, Increases Nightmares build up

Reasoning: Ishy-Fishy you were made to embody Zeefaring and MA.

Sinner #9, Rodion

Lacre-Drowned Cardshark Born in a run-down corner of London where the Lacre falls thickest at Sacksmas, she knows a thing or two about cards. She wouldn't mind teaching you...for a price. Persuasive +4, Watchful +6

Reasoning: Heart's Desire vibes. That's it.

Sinner #10, Dante

Timepiece Manager An infernal timepiece ticks away where a head should be. They have no memories of their own, but they can never forget again. Chthonosophy +2, Steward of the Discordance +1, Dangerous -5, Reduces Wounds build up

Reasoning: Congratulations Dante on being the only bitch to not have the Discordance because the Discordance isn't real. Ummm I went off vibes here but tbh I think Dante should decrease your Dangerous by way more actually. Hell, let's make then decrease Dreaded too. Let's make them a Weasel of Woe.

Sinner #11, Sinclair

Unrealized Prodigy Young and anxious, jumping at every shadow. His potential is very promising. Dangerous +6, Dreaded +1, Increases Wounds build up

Reasoning: Sinclair may be baby. But he is Scary Baby.

Sinner #12, Outis

Commanding Oneironaut She's led the forces of Parabola to victory more times than you could count. Don't ask her any questions. Dangerous +8, A Player of Chess +2, Glasswork +1

Reasoning: Everybody shut the fuck up Parabolan War General Outis is everything to me, you hear me. EVERYTHING. She favors the Chessboard, obviously, with that +2 to APoC.

Sinner #13, Gregor

Metamorphic Veteran A large insectoid pincer sits where a right arm should be. He'll talk about pretty much anything but the details around that. Seriously, be careful around that thing. Dangerous +5, Shapeling Arts +3, Bizarre +2

Reasoning: You had to know Gregor would be the only bitch to get Shapeling Arts. Look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't. I wanted to give him Persuasive due to his amicability but also he actually. Sucks at being persuasive like canonically, so. Dangerous it is.

BONUS! Vergilius

The Red Gaze The most feared Fixer in the Neath. Whatever could you have done to strike up an alliance with him? Watchful +30, Shadowy +30, Dangerous +30, Persuasive +30, Greatly reduces Nightmare build up

Reasoning: He's the Red Goat I ain't gotta explain shit.

anyway hope you enjoyed even though you definitely didn't. i have a headache now so i'm gonna go consume painkillers and caffeine and go run mirror dungeons in lcb for that limbus battle pass.

#limbus company #fallen london #sorry this is long sorry im mentally ill

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

Nothing says "corporate apocalypse" like googling CPR and having to scroll through a bunch of ads before I could find the actual information on how to perform CPR.

To be clear, I was googling it for writing purposes, and there was no actual emergency. But what if there actually was? Why does the Google page have FIVE separate ads to sell me a CPR certification package before the actual information I would have needed? And why is there a marketing pop-up on the American Heart Association page before I can read the article? In life or death situations, every second is precious. Google and AHA could kill someone by taking those few seconds away from them.

[owlbearwrites]

that's one fine-looking manuscript you've got there

tl;dr: if you've got a book in the works, I want to proofread and/or edit it; I'm good at what I do, and because I'm building a new business from the ground, my rates are on a sliding scale that will put a Slip'n'Slide to shame; message for deets; trust me, I'm more scared of you than you are of me.

This isn't a pitch. (Although I never could resist a douchey post title.) This is just me reaching out to fellow writeblrs, with a so-informal-I-had-to-blur-my-zoom-background offer/request.

If you have a manuscript in the works, I want to proofread and/or edit it. Maybe you're planning to self-publish, maybe you want to score a small press, maybe you want to pitch to agents. Heck, maybe you're book-binding a fic and want it to be as shiny as it gets! Whatever you're planning to do with your book and whatever your budget is, I want to help.

I'm starting my own business as an independent editor. It's something I've wanted to do for a very long time, and last week, my steady freelance writing gig of eight years folded in the scope of one afternoon due to corporate shenanigans (yay, capitalism!), and I figured: if I was looking for a sign, that was it.

I'm a good writer, and also a good editor. I have an eye for detail, an ear for language, and a butt for staying in the chair until the job is done. Also, thanks to my deep roots in fanfic, I've got a ton of skill points in characterization, voice and the ability to match a story's style and vibe.

I've been writing and editing my own and other people's work for the best part of 15 years now, but because a lot of it was ghostwriting, putting together a portfolio is going to take some time. Having an editor or proofreader credit on a handful of titles that are finished and out there would make a world of difference: which is why, if you take a chance on me at this so-early-it's-still-late stage, you'll get a very low price, very good service, and a fiercely loyal word wrangler on your side for years to come.

This is where I should sign off with an enthusiastic call to action. I've tried a bunch and deleted them all. I know you're supposed to project confidence at times like this, but I've written way too much marketing copy in my day, and being fake on the page makes me queasy. I like being honest, and the honest thing is, I'm trying something I've wanted to do for a long time, and I'm excited, and also scared. Starting a new thing is hard, but I know I can do a good job if a handful of people give me a chance. So if you're one of them, message me, and I will treat your words with the care that they deserve. I am a writer myself, after all. I know words are precious. I know stories matter. I want to help you tell yours.

Thank you. 💛

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #editing #proofreading #publishing #book editing #editor services #editing services #editor #proofreader

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Two things I can't stop thinking about 😂

1) some people have sensitive stomachs. How can so many people watch Dom cook something so in depth and ask "where's the spice?" He's talked about having a sensitive stomach before. Garlic, onion, salt, and pepper are spices. I can't have anything more either. His comment section is insane- can he ever do anything right? That's one of my new favorite videos, he's so precious 🥹

2) The absolute trouble someone went to just to spell my name wrong and piss me off. Your phone wouldn't even autocorrect to Jenk or whatever so you did that shit on purpose. You wanted to disrespect me for no reason when that should have been a respectful conversation. It just makes me even more flustered. It had to have been a MF fan because I hope EST don't push each other's buttons that way 🙄

I know I don't rant very often anymore, I try to keep my page light and happy because a large part of my life is bullshit these days and I want to spread love and hopefully a little happy. I think sometimes it just helps to vent. Hopefully it lets people know they're not the only ones stressed about little things sometimes. I just get so fucking tired of disrespect whether its to me or the boys or my friends on here.

Kells gets hate for everything to the point that's all he can see and I'm so scared for him lately. Dom does something huge for basically nothing (I could go to Bludfest if I wanted on my disability check if I felt I'd be healthy enough, and that means it's affordable AF) and yet people say it's still corporate and overpriced until he's not sleeping and trying to explain himself as politely as possible. Cause god forbid he have anger to anything, he'd be cancelled. I watch my friends get hate on here just for speaking their mind (normally something plenty of us agree on) and I can't help but defend them. I'm still so fed up by the added disrespect of spelling my name like an asshole. Jinx- it's not that hard. Spell it right or keep it out of your mind. Or better yet, be brave enough to tag me. So you think I don't get enough disrespect every day of my life? Getting deadnamed constantly and misgendered. You don't have to fuck up the only safe space too.

Sorry if my ranting was too much, I just needed to get a little off my chest. Especially after the song release today I'm scared for Kells and I've been scared for Dom for a while. I hope you're all doing amazing and having a lovely night. Spread love so people don't have to be hurt 🖤 you never know what small act will stick with someone, let it be kindness. I love you all so much 🩷

#jinx rants #jinx rambles #jinx is tired of disrespect and bs #please know i love you all #but its been a while since ive ranted #enjoy 😅

[drbased]

The older I get the less I care for copyright. Things like copyright, trademarks and patents *should* be there to stop the little gal from getting screwed over by people stealing her work, but in reality it's used by big corporations to squeeze money out of anyone who so much as mentions their brand name. Oh, so you used a 3 second clip of our music in your hour-long video essay? We can now take all the ad revenue from that video (none of the money goes to the actual artist, of course). Oh, you showcased my brand/film/TV show, basically providing me with free advertisement? I also get all the revenue from you, as 'punishment' for not doing it with my explicit permission. Even though my brand name and everything associated with it is basically so ubiquitous that it may as well be public domain.

Oh, through horrendous and ruthless anticompetitive business practices you've made your brand name synonymous with a certain activity, item or genre of entertainment, perhaps even giving yourself a monopoly over that industry? You're so embedded in the culture that you may as well be public domain, you may as well be owned and run by the state. Let's all make google a verb, everybody!

Disney have literally changed copyright law so they get to hold onto their precious mouse for even longer, pharmaceutical companies hoard patents to get money from life-saving medicine, but youtubers have to abide by fair use laws when talking about pop culture, and people can and do face severe legal repurcussions for pirating, or even providing the option. Did you know if you're detected pirating your ISP can lock your upload/download speeds without warning? Meanwhile literal public services like the royal mail, national rail and london tube are provided by private corporations - what fucking right do you fuckers have to any corporate protection at all? You're providing a public service, you should fucking belong to us.

I've admittedly not delved too much into the history of copyright, but my suspicion is that it's built from the ground up not to protect the creations of individual people, but to give existing powers legal protection. Some choice quotes from the history of copyright wikipedia page:

"The origin of copyright law in most European countries lies in efforts by the church and governments to regulate and control the output of printers."

"As the "menace" of printing spread, governments established centralized control mechanisms,[16] and in 1557 the English Crown thought to stem the flow of seditious and heretical books by chartering the Stationers' Company. The right to print was limited to the members of that guild, and thirty years later the Star Chamber was chartered to curtail the "greate enormities and abuses" of "dyvers contentyous and disorderlye persons professinge the arte or mystere of pryntinge or selling of books."

pfft the first copyright laws literally established 'monopolies'. Copyright law ostensibly supports the intellectual property of the average Jane, but it's primary purpose has always been to control the populace and preserve power structures.

#my writing

[mask131]

Simple facts about Ancient Egypt (2)

Last time, we talked about generalities - history, geography, pharaohs, government... Today, let’s look at some of the main social classes and jobs in Ancient Egypt!

As I said before - warning, these are oversimplified and general facts for a short and easy introduction and comprehension to Ancient Egypt. These are not in-depths studies or analysis, and I might have gotten things wrong, so beware!

SCRIBES

# Scribes, from the Latin “scribere” (to write) were public writers: they were tasked with redacting administrative documents, with the job of accountants of the State, but they were also tasked with writing things such as letters, poems or fictional tales. The job of a scribe went from father to son, and every future scribe had to undergo a very strict and difficult apprenticeship. To be a scribe was a very envied position, for it was a privilege given only to boys – and to the wealthiest of boys! The material of the scribe was quite simple, all contained in a wooden case: there was just a reed pen, and two blocks of ink, one red and one black – to write, the scribe plunged the tip of his reed pen into water, and then rubbed it against either the black or red ink-block.

# Because ink was we know it today didn’t exist back then in Egypt – their “ink” was actually blocks of compact powder. Black ink was created with soot or crushed coal, whereas red ink was created with ochre. Similarly, the Ancient Egyptians did not write on paper but on papyrus – a type of material that shared its name with the type of Nile-reed it was created from. (Fun fact, the name “paper” does come from “papyrus”). Creating papyrus was done by cutting and peeling the papyrus-reed into thin slices, that were then gorged with water, placed in crosses layered on top of each other, and then brutally hit with a hammer until it became one uniformed page (the sap of the reed and the water fused together to form a sort of “glue” holding the stripes together). Finally, the page was thinned down, and smoothed with wooden items.

# Papyrus was however very costly. So, to not lose all of one’s money, Ancient Egyptians wrote for every day needs on pottery fragments or wooden planks covered in plaster. Pupils in schools for example wrote on broken pieces of bowls or vases. The papyrus, so precious, was kept exclusively for law texts and religious texts. To create 5 scrolls of papyrus, of roughly 10 meters each, a man had to work for a whole year!

# Most scribes worked for the government: one of their job was to do note down the state and quantity of the harvests each year before calculating the taxes based on the amount of harvest. They were also the accountants of the state, as well as the ones charged with writing down the laws and the orders of ministers. Other scribes rather worked for temples, where they engraved magical incantations on amulets ; and a third group acted as clerks in tribunals.

# Learning to become a scribe might look easy, since what you need to do was just copy texts all day long… But in truth it was a very hard thing! Our alphabet only has two dozen letters or so – the Egyptian scribes had to learn thousands of different signs to write down the texts, and they had to learn how to write them on every material possible. If you wanted to be a scribe, you had to go a “scribe school” – pupils usually went there are the age of ten, and left at fifteen. After these five years of studies, the scribes had to undergo an internship of five years in either the administration, in a temple or with a notary. After this internship, would-be-scribes had a final exam – and it was only then they could become certified and testified scribes, at twenty years old. Scribe school was notably a very harsh and unpleasant place – a common saying among scribe teachers was “Students have ears in the back, and these ears only listen when you hit them”. Yes, corporal punishment was a standard method of teaching in these schools – if students didn’t pay attention, spoke with each other instead of copying their texts, or wrote a hieroglyph wrong, they were immediately beaten up with a stick. In fact, to prevent the students of scribe schools from leaving unsupervised, the teachers attached to their ankles wooden blocks! Yes, just like the cartoon prisoner with the iron ball around their ankle!

# All scientists were scribes, but not all scribes were scientists (or scholars). You see, to become a scientist or a scholar you had to learn how to write and read – and to do that, you needed to become a scribe. But many scribes stopped there and did not pursue their studies further – only some decided to take on a specific field of expertise (medicine, architecture, astronomy) and thus became more than just “regular” scribes.

# Scribes wrote their text in a very specific way. They sat cross-legged on the ground, placed the papyrus they wrote on their loincloth – that was pushed by their knee very strongly on each side, so it would be a flat surface to write onto. Scribes also wrote with their pen standing up, very still – so that they wouldn’t do any stain or mess up a line, because their ink took a very long time to dry.

# Scribes were the object of admiration, but also jealousy, from the everyday ordinary Egyptian man, because scribes were very well paid AND were exempt of taxes. Plus, their work was a non-manual one, unlike the other Egyptian men who were peasants or craftsmen. This was notably why in Egyptian art scribes are always depicted with a potbelly or fat rolls – thanks to their wealth and effortless job that demanded them to sit around all day, they were the only inhabitants of Ancient Egypt who could easily become fat. In return, the scribes themselves were very proud of their position and status – and this often made them quite arrogant, according to the ancient texts. One of the favorite entertainments of the scribes was to mock other jobs or workforces of Egypt by telling funny stories or jokes about them.

PRIESTS

# Do not get things wrong: in Egyptian religion, only the pharaoh can act as an intermediary between the gods and men – he is the true voice and right hand of the gods. But then, you’ll ask, why are there priests? Well it is simply because the pharaoh is one human man, and cannot be everywhere in the country – so the pharaoh delegates his powers to the priests, who act in his name. This is something important to remember: Ancient Egypt was a form of theocracy, and the priests did not get their power from the gods but from the pharaoh. Though the priests’ role WAS to serve the gods. Ancient Egyptians and Ancient Egyptian gods had a deal worked out: the priests would tend to their need, and take care of them, through various festive celebrations and everyday rituals, and in exchanged from being tended to, the gods ensured the protection and wellness of the city/region/country they were worshiped in. As easy as that. But this explains why for example priests were not depicted on murals or paintings of temples: priests were not perceived as worthy of being depicted alongside the gods, because in the Egyptian mindset, priests are just servants – or rather some sort of religious bureaucrats. Only the pharaoh, the one and true emissary of the god, and himself equal to the gods, could be painted on the walls of temples.

# The role of priests, just like the one of scribe, usually was passed from father to son. Usually priests began their apprenticeship as children, studying at the school and at the library of the temple alongside scribes. Given being a priest was a very prestigious function (again, quite like scribes), some people rather could buy a priest job with a heavy sum of money, or it could be given by the pharaoh himself as a reward, to those that served him well and faithfully.

# In every great temple and religious center of Egypt there was, at the top of the priestly hierarchy, a great priest, or “first prophet”, named directly and personally by the pharaoh. This great priest held authority over all of the other priests, and also played a political role in the city he was in charge of. Below him came the “divine fathers”, important priests that took care of the rituals and walked in front of their god’s statue during processions. Finally, at the bottom of the hierarchy, there were the “purified ones”, whose job was to carry the god’s statue during procession, to clean up the temple every day, and to do all the chores. Speaking of cleanliness, being pure was a very big deal for Ancient Egyptian priests – they usually took four baths a day in the lake’s temple, or rather two baths during the day and two baths during the night. It was a way for them to stay “pure”.

# Priests had a LOT of work and so, to be able to rest and not die of exhaustion, there were “teams” of priests formed in temples. Each team was to work in the temple during one month while the other went to live into town, and after one month a new team went in. In smallest temple there were only two teams, each doing half of the year, but in the biggest temple, there could be up to four priest teams. And since the priests were to live in the town quite regularly, and couldn’t possibly live alone (for Egyptians a man couldn’t just live all on his own, it was not a good or healthy lifestyle), the priests were allowed and even encouraged to marry, so that when leaving the temple they could have a wife and children to return to – children that in turn would become priests once their father grew too old.

PEASANTS

# Peasants formed the bulk of the Egyptian population, and they were a key part in the wealth of the nation: without them and their constant toil, Egypt couldn’t have existed. But despite their immense utility, priests were very poor and not respected, forming the lower rank of the social hierarchy. Most of them acted like serfs, in service of great landowners, temples, or the ministers of the pharaoh. The comparison to serfs is quite relevant as, just like serfs, Egyptian peasants did not own their lands, and they could be sold just alongside the land they were dependent.

# The fields of the peasants were actually really small, roughly the size of a vegetable garden today. They were delimited by big and heavy rocks – every year, bureaucrats of the realm checked after each flood is these rocks hadn’t been move. The peasants also had to swear an oath to never move secretly the stones to augment their field – if they were caught doing that and lying about it, they had their two ears cut off!

# Scribes went three times a year into every peasant’s home. A first time to measure their field, a second time once the cereals ha d grown – to evaluate the harvest and calculate future taxes based on this hypothetical harvest – and a third time during the harvesting, to collect the taxes. Of course, on this third visit, scribes were escorted by armed soldiers. If a peasant refused to pay the taxes, he was beaten up, and/or his house and tools were taken away from him – sometimes he was even thrown into prison. According to some tales, the most extreme cases of punishment had peasants that did not pay their taxes being beaten up, tied with a rope, and thrown at the bottom of a well in front of his wife and children – who in turn were imprisoned in his place! Better pay the taxes the, you say? Well, the problem was that the taxes were calculated during January, two to three months before the actual harvest. If any sort of disaster happened, and they lost their harvest, they still had to pay the taxes as if they had a full harvest…

# No need to tell you that the peasants’ worst enemy (outside of the locust) was the hippopotamus! Hippopotami were considered a true disaster, since in a single night, a hungry hippo could eat up to sixty kilos of plants (132 pounds). If a small group of hippos came by a field in the night, in the morning nothing was left… So peasants hunted and killed hippos without pity or mercy.

CRAFTSMEN

# Craftsmen were the middle-class of Egypt, coming below the scribes and bureaucrats, but above peasants. Craftsmen worked numerous types of material: stone, wood, iron, precious metals (such as gold), leather, textiles and glass. Craftsmen never worked alone – they were always forming groups and teams, part of workshops financed by the government, or by a temple, or by a rich family. Each workshop gathered various specialists – a carpenter, a painter, a smith, a jeweler, a stone-sculptor…

# The quality of a furniture could be identified by the type of wood used: good quality furniture was done by sculpting cedar, a tree that was important from the Lebanon. High quality furniture was also often decorated with ivory or ebony. Lower quality furniture however, was usually sculpted in sycamore trees or palm trees – a wood so friable they were often covered in plaster to just be able to stand up and hold any kind of weight!

# The Egyptians discovered how to make class towards 1500 BCE. They created it with sand, salt, and they always colored their glass with metallic pigments – an Egyptian would have never created a transparent piece of glass. Egyptians loved colors, and so their glass work was always red, blue or yellow.

# Potters were considered to be “different” from other craftsmen. More specifically they were thought to practice a very “common” craft. Scribes liked to mock them by describing them as dirty, and always covered in mud. Potters did not work in the royally-sponsored workshops I described above – they rather worked all alone, for their own. They built most of everyday objects: vases, plates, cups, jars… Potters usually worked with the clay of the Nile, sculpted by hand (at first, then the potter’s wheel was invented), and then left to dry up in the sun before being “cooked” in an oven. Their other technique was to create a material by mixing sand with water, salt, ashes and lime – this substance was then placed inside molds, and placed in an ove.

# Pearls in Ancient Egypt are a fascinating thing, because Egyptians did not know about the existence of oysters – or if they did, they couldn’t access any of them. So, Egyptians created their own pearls, by polishing stones so much they were reduced to very small spheres, that were then pierced to be placed onto necklaces.

# All the gems and precious stones used by Egyptians (the red carnelian, the purple amethyst, the turquoise and the blue agate – plus gold of course) were extracted from mines located in the desert, and in which criminals and law-breakers were sent to work (because working in these mines often killed the miners). The favorite gem of the Egyptians, the lapis-lazuli, was rather important from where today’s Afghanistan is located. However, faience/earthenware was very common among Egyptians precisely because with its blue-green color it could look like emeralds or turquoises, while being much MUCH less costly. This is why there were a lot of faience jewels in Ancient Egypt – they were basically for those who wanted to look good without having the means to.

#ancient egypt #scribes #peasants #egyptian religion #egyptian priests #ancient egyptian crafts #craftsmen #ancient egyptian society

[thesidestoaconflict]

Middle Ground: Chapter 1

The Starting Line 2686 words

First Chapter (You're here!) Next Chapter

“Hilda!”

The invention of the pokeball is credited as being in the Johto region, as recently as just over 200 years ago, though it was not imported to regions outside of that landmass (Johto, Hoenn, Kanto, Sinnoh), until some hundred years later. By this point…

“Hilda, come downstairs, your dad’s calling!”

…the usage of apricorns as a primary ingredient had already started to decline in favour of more synthetic materials. Especially as apricorns themselves began to diversify, making creation of traditional red coated pokeballs difficult, however…

“Hilda! Now!”

…There remains a select few, mostly residing in the Johto region, though a notable craftsman lives in Galar, too, who still create pokeballs using traditional methods. Though I am not able to share the method, as it is a traditional family technique, and I’m sure fellow poke-ball enthusiasts will understand why such a thing is precious to me, it does sadden me greatly to see the rapid decline in appreciation for traditionally crafted pokeballs. This does not mean to say that pokeballs made with synthetic materials by corporations such as Silph Co. are at all inferior; not at all, their functions are…

Her bedroom door bursting open, revealing her exasperated mother, was what finally convinced Hilda Mahelona to close her copy of The Heart of Hiwada- The Mystery of PokeBalls by Gantetsu Waguri and look up at her mother.

“Hilda. It’s your birthday. Are you really not going to come down? Your dad sent over some interesting looking parcels for you!” Hilda’s mom, Katherine, “Plus, your brother’s just shown up, and your friends are coming over soon.”

“Okay, okay… I will.” Hilda sighed, lamenting over having to stop mid-chapter, and finally clambering out from under her covers, “I’ll be down in a sec. Gonna get dressed, first.”

“You got it, sweetie.” Smiled her mom, disappearing out of the room, and Hilda heard her descending the stairs soon after.

As much as she wanted to just pick her book back up, Hilda knew she’d just get completely absorbed in it again, and probably not realise how much time was passing until her mom came to get her again.

Most sixteen-year-olds would be bouncing off the walls on their birthday. And though her mom, dad, and brother always went all-out for birthdays, Hilda wasn’t especially interested in them what-so-ever. Too much hassle.

It was nice that Cheren and Bianca were coming round, though. Even if she’d have to endure their playful teasing about how she wasn’t a baby anymore. That was what happened when you were the youngest in the group, she supposed.

Still, she knew the pair of them were in cahoots with her parents for some kind of birthday surprise. She’d been suspicious of them for ages. But especially since Bianca had sent a message to their group message, and then promptly deleted it after panic-blocking Hilda’s number and a bunch of other silly things she rapidly had apologised for. It was cute. But more importantly: Hilda was on to them.

With her komala-themed pajamas swapped for a fashionable white turtleneck, black tailcoat, and stressed jeans covered in her doodles, she finished the look with all her favourite loom-bandz bracelets and headed downstairs, where the house phone was placed almost immediately in her hand, and her dad’s voice sounded through the receiver.

“Happy birthday, daughter of mine!” he exclaimed, and she could hear his comfey chittering away to emphasise the wishes, “How many pages did you read in the last hour?”

“Hm… about two hundred?” she hummed, balancing the phone between her head and shoulder, so she could use her free hands to grab and eat an orange for breakfast, “How’re you doing, dad?”

“Good. Not much progress on the wormhole biz, but no bother. Went out with my colleagues for dinner yesterday, to some cute diner on Melemele. It was great, you’d love it.”

“Promise to take me when I next come to see you?” she asked, throwing an orange seed at her brother, who was watching TV across the downstairs room, in the lounge area of the open space, “What kinda stuff did they have?”

“Lot of good old traditional Alolan recipes. The owner’s daughter works there, she’s working toward becoming a Trial Captain. She made this thing using those massive radishes that grow on Poni island… they were like those mochi you get in Kanto, or those fancy bodegas… Crazy that she made something like that from those spicy things!”

“Man, wow! They sound great.”

“They were! Speaking of great… Have you opened any of your presents?”

“No, not yet, I only just got downstairs.”

Her dad gave a hearty laugh, and he started pestering her to go open her presents, which she eventually did, promising to call him on the X-Transceiver in the evening, as she signed off the phone.

The very second the landline clicked back into place on the wall, her older brother- Hilbert- grabbed Hilda from behind and lifted her off the floor in a tight hug, though he had to put her down quickly; despite his three-year age advantage, they were about the same height.

“You’re catching up to me!” he exclaimed, teasing, “You’re how old, seven?”

“Try sixteen,” she retorted with a grin, shoving his shoulder and crouching down to pet one of his three deerling- the other two were happily snoozing by the TV in the living room, “Bet I’ll be taller than you, though!”

Hilbert scoffed, “As if!”

“Even if I don’t end up taller…” she scooped up his deerling and took off suddenly toward the living room, “Bet I can ruin you in Smash!”

“Slow down! You can’t even try beat me if I’m not there to fight.” Hilbert replied, purposefully walking as slowly as he could without losing his balance, as their mom rolled her eyes.

Hilda jeered her brother as he inched over, “That’d count as a forfeit in a pokemon battle, y’know.”

“Smash and battles are very different, dear sister.” Hilbert retorted smugly, as he threw himself down on the couch next to her, “Not that you’d know, not being a trainer.”

“Boo… Buzzkill.” She stuck her tongue out, purposefully giving him the wii remote with a faulty senser and an A button that only responded half the time, “I bet I’d beat you in a pokemon battle, too.”

“Go catch a pokemon and battle me, then.”

A few quick rounds of smash bros later (the siblings being at a perpetual tie), they ended up having to stop at the sound of the doorbell.

Hilda kept the good wiimote in her hand as she leapt over the back of the couch and hurried to the front door.

Her two best friends were waiting there, Cheren holding a rectangular package that he was clearly struggling with the weight of, despite how he tried to hide his plight, and Bianca carrying a cute glittery gift bag with the price sticker still attached.

Hilda all but dragged them inside as her friends tried to get out ‘happy birthday!’s, but were cut short by the hug she pulled them into.

She intentionally stood between Cheren and the dinner table so that he had to keep holding onto the heavy gift in his arms, talking to him as she watched him realise exactly what she was doing.

Every slight shift to the side he made, Hilda would mirror, and she felt a smug grin stretch across her face as Cheren’s grimace grew.

Bianca was drinking a glass of apple juice that Hilda’s mom had poured her, as she watched.

After a solid three minutes of inching side-to-side, Cheren made a sudden step left, which Hilda copied, but then he threw himself rightward and slammed the thing down on the dinner table.

“Augh, damn it!” Hilda exclaimed, “Fine. You win this time, Ohashi.”

“Pulling out the surnames?” Cheren responded, feigning shock, “And here I thought you were the type to lose with grace.”

“As if!” Hilda exclaimed, grabbing him around the middle and attempting to hoist him off the ground as he yelled out in surprise. She only succeeded by an inch or so. “Take that, fiend! I’ll never yield!”

She did have to put him down quickly though, not being especially physically strong either.

“Are you two done?” Hilbert appeared from the living room, covertly swiping the wii remote that Hilda had put down on the table before lifting Cheren into the air and replacing it with the faulty one, “I believe Hilly has some presents to open.”

Hilda felt heat rise into her face. That was another reason she didn’t find birthdays especially exciting. She liked getting stuff- who didn’t?- but opening presents around other people felt weird. She didn’t like the spotlight at the best of times- literally; one time she and her friends had decided to sign up for the school musical and Hilda was so terrified of the spotlight she made herself sick enough that she didn’t attend a single rehearsal. She didn’t even have a named role. Just a member of the chorus.

But that nervousness- unusual for her- was always there during times like this.

It didn’t help that she always felt inexplicably guilty for getting things. Even though it was her birthday, and people typically get given gifts on their birthday. And Hilda always got her friends and family the best presents she could for their birthdays. It still felt weird.

She wondered if they all felt like that too, and if they were just better at hiding it than she felt she was.

Still, she’d be lying if she said she completely, totally hated it.

Getting things was always nice.

Especially when those things included a giant set of loom bandz (curtesy of Bianca), a huge, heavy book on Unovan Myths and Legends- a recent edition, and signed by the author (the thing Cheren had been struggling to carry), a shirt that read NAME’s LUCKY FISHING SHIRT, with a lineart print of a basculin, and a beautiful aquamarine crystal (from her dad, so the crystal was surely more than just something pretty), a baseball cap that read NO. 1 DAD (an excellent choice from Hilbert, and she put it on immediately), a set of bright (really bright) pink shoelaces, more loom bandz, three mystery packs of sillybandz, and oddly enough, a camping set and a private link to the Cyberspace Bag System, from her mom, though she knew her dad would have pitched in especially for the latter two.

When Hilda glanced over at Cheren and Bianca, who seemed equally bewildered by the camping stuff; Hilda wasn’t opposed to going outdoors or getting muddy or anything like that, but she was definitely more of a bookworm, and if given free choice of any activity, probably wouldn’t choose to camp of all things…

Unless…

Her mom and brother shared a knowing glance, before leaving the living room to the three bewildered sixteen-year-olds.

They heard the front door open and close, as Hilda’s family left to go somewhere, and all sat in silence for a moment.

“What’s going on?” Hilda demanded, “Do you two know anything?”

“Nope. My parents were acting weird when I set out, though…” Cheren mused, “You have any ideas, Bianca?”

“None…” she sighed, leaning back, “Come to think of it, my mom was also acting kinda suspicious. I wonder if they’ve all planned something together.”

Hilda shrugged, and tossed each of her friends a pack of sillybandz to open while they waited, and they compared each of the bands they got once they had.

Even then, Hilda’s mom hadn’t returned, so Hilda dug out a third, even worse wiimote from the cupboard, and scrambled all three of them on the coffee table before handing them out to her friends so they could play Smash, since it was still on the pause screen she and Hilbert had left it on.

Two rounds later (both won by Bianca, an absolute monster at Smash Bros, even with the most broken of the wiimotes), and Hilda’s mom and brother finally returned.

Her mom was carrying a delicate looking blue box, and her brother had a smaller, but evidently just as precious package in his hands.

The packages were brought through to the living room, and placed on the coffee table in front of the trio of friends.

“So. Hilda. Cheren. Bianca.” Hilda’s mom said, sitting down on the armchair below the windowsill, and Hilbert perched on the armrest of the larger sofa, “Your parents and Keoni and I… we all decided that now that you’re all sixteen, and that you’ve all expressed interest… it would be nice for you to all become Pokemon Trainers at the same time.”

Hilda, on the left of the sofa, felt Bianca- in the middle- stiffen, and she felt her own heart thudding in her throat.

“So, we all spoke with Professor Juniper… and, well…” she lifted the lid off the blue box, “She has agreed to give you all a starting pokemon and a PokeDex. I also believe she has an important task she wants to entrust to you all, if you’ll accept it.”

Inside the box, resting on a soft cushion, were three PokeBalls.

Hilda glanced over at her friends- Bianca had the biggest smile on her face, practically vibrating with happiness, and Cheren’s hands were pressed over his mouth- and he honestly looked like he might simultaneously start screaming with joy and crying at the same time.

“Of course,” Hilbert piped up, “You all should meet your new partners before picking one, yes?”

Then he grinned.

“Unless… you don’t want them?”

Hilda leapt out of her seat and yelled at him, “Don’t even say that, oh my GOD!” she let out a breathy laugh, “Mom, are you serious?!”

“Of course, I am, sweetheart. You’re so fascinated by pokemon, you always have been. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to go out and learn first-hand, alongside your books?”

Hilda sank back into her seat. Yes, yes it absolutely would. But what would she even do on a journey? Challenge Gyms? Try out the musical in Nimbasa? Totally geek out when she got to Nacrene city and never ever leave that library?

Probably all of those and more, come to think of it.

“Mrs Mahelona…” Bianca squeaked out, “I… Are you sure?”

“Of course, dear. Your mom was one of the first of us all to suggest it, actually.”

Bianca’s eyes widened, and she looked shyly over the pokeballs.

“Can… we meet the pokemon?” Cheren asked, very obviously trying to hide his excitement.

Hilbert was the one to grab the three pokeballs. He threw them one by one, introducing each pokemon as he did. Tepig. Snivy. And Oshawott.

And, oh, how adorable they were.

An energetic tepig that could barely sit still. The snivy that kept using vine whip to hoist itself out of the way of the tepig as it ran back and forth. And the oshawott that immediately curled up on the floor for a nap, using the shell that usually rested on its belly as a pillow.

Hilda and her friends were instantly enamoured with all three of them. And she could see them both having difficulty; who would they pick? How could they pick? They all seemed so charming.

She knew exactly which one she wanted, though.

And since both her friends encouraged her to go first- it was her birthday, after all- she had no issue in gently scooping up the snoozing oshawott and dubbing him with a name. Otto.

After some discussion and thinking, Bianca took the energetic little tepig- who she called Blaise- and Cheren took the snivy- who he called Lucian.

And with the pokedexes that Hilbert handed out- which was what had been in the second package… everything was…

Though they were still sat on the comfortable sofa in Hilda’s living room. Though none of them had their shoes on. Though none of them were really dressed for the great outdoors. Though none of them had expected this- even though they had all wished and wished and wished for it.

Everything was different now.

Their journey had already begun.

#middle ground #chapter #tstac: middle ground

[photon-crest-art]

I’ve been seeing people make profiles of their Toons using this template and I thought it would be fun to hop on the bandwagon.It gives me an opportunity to tell y’all about my precious girl a bit more before the still-unfinished Toyhouse page comes up too, so why not?

Some extra notes:

-The gag levels + prestige stars in bright pink indicate tracks I always keep on me in battle. The bright red numbers and stars are Loopy the character’s main tracks (I do keep Squirt and Zap on me at all times, though Drop is sometimes switched out for Sound due to my limited training points)

-The scribbled out text reads “B. Biggs was here”.

-The background was taken from the YOTT page of the Corporate Clash wiki.

-I’ve already linked it above but just in case: Template is by forteangoria on Twitter.

#Toontown Corporate Clash #TTCC #OC #Loopy Lancelot #Bat #2023 art

[importantnightwerewolf]

Exclusive scene from Daredevil Technomagic Au made by me this art/opening image of one of the Au art scenes with comic page design and loyal to the show version by Charlie Cox - Matt Murdock

Scene - Where am I??????????

Summary: Matt Murdock did what he never thought of doing in his entire life, after seeing his father working violently for Fixer, he immediately runs and ends up here in an area far from the borders of the kingdom of Hell's Kitchen, but close to the kingdom's old Times Square, now in ruins and abandoned and covered in toxic products, however there is something peculiar there besides the BNL FISK advertisements that are there

———————————————— ——————————————————

"Matt, still crying and very tired of running, finds a peculiar place he never thought was real" What place is this???? Not even he was believing that Times Square was the place that was considered the most powerful, incredible and busy place in all of Hell's Kitchen and was filled with towers, buildings and ruined houses surrounded by advertisements for BNL FISK, the mega corporation, house and monarchy that ruled the kingdom of Hell's Kitchen and also toxic waste, garbage that smelled a lot and its odor was unbearable, in addition to the thousands of towers made of garbage and debris that sank this tundra of technological, magical and medieval waste, frozen in time in the middle of hell that Hell's Kitchen, however, something that surprises you is:

How shit is he breathing!!! because Hell's Kitchen hasn't had practically clean air in centuries and the air in this kingdom is so toxic and deadly that they need air masks, technology and magic to breathe how is that possible? Matt thought perplexed. Now it's time to see and explore!! said Matt with a completely calm voice but a little scared and confused.

Little did he know that his days of seeing the world would be numbered on that day!!!!

——————————————————————————————————

Note: Matt being a cute, precious, scared, strong and curious baby boy and coming soon 03/18 1 chapter of Au and soon more art and scenes from this adventure in this peculiar and chaotic world

because this is me importantnightwerewolf the creator, shaper and collector of realities across the universe of Marvel, Pixar, Nintendo, Disney, Daredevil and many others

#daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #jack murdock #marvel cinematic universe #marvel comics #murdock boys #the man without fear #the devil of hell's kitchen #Hell’s Kitchen #charlie cox #daredevil movie #daredevil fanfic #daredevil netflix #daredevil au #daredevil art #avocado #attorney at law

[gdenofa-blog]

PURE JOY: A New Page for Salvatore Moreau

Prologue: Failure

"They'll have to respect me if I kill you," was the guttural declaration amidst the raucous roars and harsh rattles of the colossal creature as it pursued the light-haired man through a roundabout area within the murky reservoir.

The monstrous, amphibious fish was distraught. The life-sustaining water had been drained to limited levels. It needed to be submerged to rehydrate and sustain itself. For without its precious water, it would assuredly perish.

Inside the great maw of the beast, its rider remained bawling from shame and fear. However, the pale humanoid's voice echoed from the beast, which was influencing the tormented being to shout curses and threats.

Nevertheless, from the charging creature, there were also pleas for acknowledgment. Despite its cries falling on deaf ears, the creature still clung to a strand of hope that the light-haired man would stop shooting and corporate.

But the hated-self was more in control; taking over the will and reasoning to ask for help. Thus, the beast continued to use its multiple muzzles in an attempt to pull the light-haired man into its massive mouth. Or it tried to burn his lungs and bone marrow with a cascade of highly acidic green bile and gas.

"Take... Take this!" the retching creature bellowed with countless, monstrous eyes burning red with a deep ire toward the sprinting, young adversary.

Continually, the light-haired man dodged through the decrepit, algae-mottled huts and broke the creature's enzyme barriers. All the while, he bombarded the finned beast with all sorts of weaponry. And after a great length of chasing, vomiting, and bewailing, countless pieces of ammo had been lodged throughout its ginormous girth. Ultimately, spiking the gastric walls and bladders of the creature. 

"I don't want to die. Oooh, it hurts so much."

The injured beast felt itself vastly hemorrhaging with plasma and bile. Swearing from anger but also from utter loathing with itself, the creature unwillingly raised on its haunches from the immense swelling of its metamorphosed body. And as it howled from the stretching of its pained hide, all it... he could do was scream...     

"Ah! H-help me! Mother! Ow! MAAAAAAAAAAAA-!"    

"-MA!"

Moreau's own shout caused him to snap opaque sights wide open. He gasped, holding out his thin arms to stop the small seat from tilting over. Once the legs of the stool were stagnant, the hunched fish-man screwed his eyelids closed. Moreau could hear his labored breathing over the familiar sounds of leaky drips onto dank floorboards, and the static fizz from a small, outdated television.

Lowering tired limbs, Moreau's chest expanded, then sank as he let out a shaky, raspy respire through jagged, askew teeth.

"Just-just a bad d-dream... I... I didn't fail," he assured deeply to himself to gather his bearings.

Of all the past nightmares, that was the worst one that the fish-man's altered psyche had ever endured. It seemed too real for it to... be... not real? The simple being shook his head. He shouldn't try to analogize things when just waking up.

Suddenly, Moreau jerked and gawped at nothing in particular. Something told him that his surreal nightmare wasn't fully fabricated. Moreau's bulbous throat made several spasms from sheer anxiety.

"Please! Please! Oh, please still be here!"

With his covered brow feeling damp, the nervous fish-man reluctantly shifted sideways. And his fear came into full circle.

"No! No-no-no-no-no-no! NO!"

Almost stumbling, Moreau got to his small feet and shuffled forward through the narrow space of his timber shack to find his charge... the Rose jar, which he was entrusted with...

...was gone. Just... gone.

Whimpering to the point of almost hyperventilating, Moreau fretfully wiped and patted the little table over and over; hoping his weary vision was playing tricks, or perhaps the valued entity had turned invisible somehow as some part of this test. But the only thing his palms picked up was musty moisture from bare wood.

Hastily rubbing the grime on his gray, frayed attire, Moreau grunted while shoving the table aside, and peered through the glassless, enzyme-patched window... No signs or sounds of anyone.

The fish-man narrowed his beady eyes and huffed angrily. That... dirty little sneak thief! 

Hot air escaped through Moreau's short, crooked nose as he balled shaking fists. The snappy blonde man must've stolen Mother's special child when he had fallen asleep. Moreau's hardened demeanor instantly slacked from regretful realization...

Mother. He failed Mother.

Hobbling from the window, he looked down at his dirty, exposed feet. There was no way in hell, the slow-bodied, contorted fish-man could locate nor catch up to the blonde burglar to barricade him with bubbled enzymes. Maybe his hated-self could if the thief was near his precious water. But it wasn't like it worked whenever he wanted it to.

Moreau shuddered. Retrospectively, he still didn't want it to make his hated-self show up. All that agony and boiling nausea were damn insufferable. Not to mention the dread of that horrible nightmare possibly coming to fruition...

Moreau swayed around and lugged his reedy legs to his stool. The fish-man's swollen, transmogrified back had persistently labored him with aggrieved heaviness. But right now... it felt like an entire windmill had collapsed over his sensitive, knobby body.

With arms propped on threadbare pants, Moreau groped at his leather hood and yanked at its clasped rope hem, many times. Then, with hands shrouding his face, he wept and wept out his dirge.

Moreau was absolutely humiliated. Absolutely disgusted with himself for failing the ever-beautiful and ever-powerful, Mother Miranda. Moreau never had gotten the chance to do the trial of the tricky thief to finally prove his worthiness to his family. The fish-man bemoaned even louder. He could just hear the hurtful taunts of his successful siblings...

Such an ineffectual, fat fool!

Ha-ha! Ugly Fuggly can't do anything!

Screw things up! The only thing the moronic freak is good at!

Tersely rocking himself, Moreau held his hidden, distorted ears to shield his mind from the insults, and the accompanied buzzing and cackling of his flawless nieces. A flash of a golden masked woman, draped in dark robes and ebony wings, kept at arm's length. Moreau put out a hand toward the impassive beauty.

"Mother... p-please stop them from p-p-picking on me."

The hateful mockery fades but so does the beloved, pseudo-figure. The dejected, crying fish-man sloped his limbs and hung his heavy head as low as his restricted neck muscles were able. How could he so stupidly sleep on the one job... the last probability to have finally made his one true purpose for existing, so proud?

When Moreau's strained diaphragm was exerted, he reared his head and resignedly scanned the dark, warped wood of his creaky, cluttered quarters. Or rather, quarter. As that was what the shack relatively was.

Snuffling, Moreau wiped his dribbling nostrils with a ruffled sleeve. One space... Just... one.

He did have a few assorted hanging ropes, tables, couple of shelves, but it would have been nice for his tender torso to have a real chair to work and sleep on since he no longer used his laboratories. And though he was grateful that the mines could receive some amount of power for lighting, a workable woodstove could keep him much warmer.

Chilled, the fish-man tugged at his trench-coat while curling his pointy toes. He hated the cold almost as much as his seclusion. And now that Moreau could never finish his task before the others, that icy isolation was going to be permanent.

Sorrowful, wet eyes trailed from the digital snow on the smudged TV screen, down to the damaged flooring. By his right ankle was a thin, plastic case that had contained the movie he had been admiring. The desirous fish-man's wide, bottom lip trembled from gazing at the cover art: a handsome, finned being, swimming underwater with a lovely woman in red.

Feeling even more loveless, Moreau's drooping face turned to the remains of his old brie. Consumed by depression, he went to reach for the knife in the wood pan to finish off the wheel. Unfortunately, the fish-man's stomach sensed another wave of uneasiness flooding in. He hurled it onto the carpet; soiling it and the cheese before his clawed fingertips could even touch the utensil.

Blinking at the mess, Moreau groaned, clutching his round, bumpy midsection. It was far from being one of the first accidents whenever he felt ill. But at least, the vomit was sort of normal. Unlike the bile of his hated-self which would have left him with no floor at all.

Moaning with heaving whines, Moreau staggered to his feet and walked away from the soaked, square rug. Avoiding missing floorboards, he goes next to a slanted plank that was propped to keep the rickety rooftop from collapsing. Behind the lofty board, he dragged out an empty sack and proceeded to fill it with belongings. Including some things of great importance on a candle-lit table...

After clearing a shelf, the fish-man spied his journal on a small footstool. He begins to slightly bend and opens a hand for the worn, flat notebook.

"No point," he mumbled, coiling his spindly digits. "No p-p-point, anymore."

Failures don't deserve books about them.

Moreau also turned away from his utmost favorite possession, atop a bunch of battered, plastic crates. The fish-man wished he had the room in his sack and the strength in his flimsy biceps to move his movie gear. Moreau had gotten the black and white video box with the disc player and discs in a vacant hovel. And he knew personally that the people who once resided there were certainly not returning... 

Moreau pulled the drawstring together, then hauled the weighty satchel over his sore shoulder, grimacing with the newfound pressure. But the aching wasn't nearly as bad as when it woke up.

Moreau returned to his worktable and grabbed a flat item from the carved wood. Then, feeling more insecure than the fish-man thought he ever could be, he clumsily swings around and does the one thing which a cowardly mistake like himself, could only do now...

Go. Just go.

I can't be abandoneded if I abandon me first.

With subdued sobs, Moreau gave his dusty and damp living space one more solemn once over, before inserting the winged bronze key into the gate. Then after a grunted push, the old entry clanks apart. Moreau elicited a surrendered sigh as the key dropped and was absorbed into the muddy ground.

Listlessly, the lone fish-man skulked through the corridor, treading over a fallen ladder. He paused and blinked in puzzled surprise to find the old mine elevator present. If Moreau had eyebrows, they would surely be raised. Someone must've used it and left it. Or... had they sent it back down? Moreau droned flatly until a weak, relieved grin fleetingly visited his rimpled, ashen face.

Maybe the snappy blonde man wasn't as cruel as they said he was.

Moreau entered the creaky, wooden contraption. And after plopping the burlap bag to his side with a groan, he grasped the handle and pushed up.

In the vacant shack by the small stool, was a mismatched array of bones that were once twined into a partial circlet. As the elevator leisurely headed topside, its sniveling passenger shamefully pulled his lighter hood over salty, burning eyes.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Mama...

Failures don't deserve to be rulers.

A/N: Prologue to my current big fanfiction project. All future chapters can be read on Fanfiction, Archive of Our Own and Wattpad. Wattpad has visuals. 

#Salvatore Moreau #resident evil village #fanfic #fanfiction #fiction #resident evil 8 #comfort #hurt/comfort #romance

[framespik]

Introducing Framespik: Your Ultimate Event Planning and Photography Companion.

Are you tired of juggling multiple tools and platforms to plan your events and capture those precious moments? Say hello to Framespik – the all-in-one solution for event planning and photography enthusiasts alike! In this blog post, we're thrilled to introduce you to Framespik and showcase how it can revolutionize the way you organize events and capture memories.

Simplify Your Event Planning Process

Framespik isn't just another event planning tool – it's a game-changer. With its intuitive interface and powerful features, organizing events has never been easier. Whether you're planning a birthday party, a corporate conference, or a wedding, Framespik streamlines every step of the process.

Seamless Collaboration: Invite collaborators, assign tasks, and keep everyone on the same page with Framespik's collaborative tools. Say goodbye to endless email chains and missed messages.

Dynamic Planning Boards: Visualize your event from start to finish with customizable planning boards. Drag and drop tasks, deadlines, and resources to stay organized and efficient.

Vendor Management: Easily connect with vendors and suppliers, track quotes, and manage contracts all within the Framespik platform. No more searching through your inbox for important documents.

Capture Every Moment with Framespik Photography

But Framespik isn't just about planning – it's also about capturing those unforgettable moments. With its integrated photography features, Framespik ensures that every aspect of your event is documented beautifully.

Professional Photography Services: Need a photographer for your event? Framespik has you covered. Browse through a curated selection of talented photographers and book the perfect one for your occasion.

Photo Sharing and Organization: Say goodbye to scattered photo albums and USB drives. Framespik's cloud-based photo storage allows you to easily organize and share your event photos with friends, family, and attendees.

Instant Editing and Filters: Want to add a touch of flair to your event photos? Framespik's built-in editing tools let you enhance your images with filters, effects, and adjustments – all with just a few clicks.

Why Choose Framespik?

Efficiency: Save time and streamline your event planning process with Framespik's comprehensive suite of tools.

Quality: From planning to photography, Framespik ensures that every aspect of your event is executed with precision and professionalism.

Convenience: With everything you need in one place, Framespik simplifies the event planning and photography experience, allowing you to focus on what matters most – creating unforgettable memories.

Get Started with Framespik Today!

Ready to take your event planning and photography to the next level? Sign up for Framespik today and experience the future of event management. Whether you're a seasoned event planner or a photography enthusiast, Framespik has everything you need to bring your vision to life. Join the Framespik community and make every event a masterpiece.

#framespik #photography #framespik company #software

[phasmophobie]

🌪️ TORNADO

" what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version? "

Buckle up, you're in for a ride.

It's the sweet year of 2013. School sucks, parents know shit, no one understands you as much as strangers on the internet. One stranger in particular made life back then better. We were cringe, like ultra-cringe (as if that changed), our characters were downright mary sues or so out of character it made no sense. We wrote 4 sentences at best and the story was just about two people sucking their faces off of each other (not like that changed either, lmao), but then it evolved. We restarted like twice and suddenly texts got longer, more immersive, characters got depth — hopes, dreams, realistic flaws.

Suddenly, the Meridian Technology Corporation was born, formerly known as Armacham Technology Corporation, like the one from my favorite game F.E.A.R. But we changed it, like, a lot. The Corporation grew bigger and more important. We got side characters that sometimes felt more important than the main ones. One side character was Pavel Zamádis. The founder of MeriTech. He was a disgusting piece of shit, a narcistic r*pist, acting like he's doing it for the greater good. He held a supernatural gifted person captive, ran tests, abused them and created soldiers based on their DNA. And well, stepped over every boundary possible. Luckily, a main character killed him at some point, getting their revenge on years of abuse. That Pavel isn't me, obviously. Every bad aspect was shoven into Viktor Zamádis arms (his father), who just exists for the sole purpose of being the bad guy instead of Pavel.

Funnily, in october 2020 I just wanted to have a ghosthunter since I couldn't play Phasmophobia. I needed a name and just abducted his. Since then the former stranger and I are twisting and turning a more than 1000 pages story to our liking. We had several side-characters as "Fakes" during VZ times, all created in an ever growing universe.

That stranger is @trauma-report . I'm thankful for them. Without them, lots of hours of happiness and creativity wouldn't have happened.

Furthermore, Pavel is always changing, but not that drastically. His brother — who also exists in the OG version — got included, personality traits get developed and deepened. I take a lot of inspiration from people I write with. Pavel is evolving every day, every week and with every text. He's by far my most precious character I ever had, only the OG character I started with Jascha sticks to #1 (no, they aren't active anymore on fake).

#⸻ 𝐚𝐬𝐤 : ‘ honesty within a liar ’ . #*ooc

[first-digi-add]

SEO Analytics: Integrating Google Analytics for Better Visibility

SEO Analytics: Integrating Google Analytics for Better Visibility

Introduction:

In the dynamic global of virtual marketing, establishing a strong online presence is crucial for business achievement. Search Engine Optimization (search engine marketing) is a key method in accomplishing this aim, and while mixed with strong analytics tools like Google Analytics, it becomes a powerful force for enhancing visibility. This weblog explores the importance of search engine marketing analytics and how integrating Google Analytics, especially with the understanding of First DigiAdd, an experienced SEO Services Company, can offer precious insights for higher online visibility.

Understanding Search Engine Optimization Analytics:

Search engine optimization analytics includes the gathering and analysis of information associated with an internet site's overall performance in searches. This fact is beneficial for making informed selections, refining strategies, and ultimately improving seek engine scores. Google Analytics, a widely-used analytics platform, plays a pivotal position in providing distinctive insights into internet site visitors and personal conduct.

The Power of Google Analytics Integration with First DigiAdd:

Comprehensive Traffic Analysis:

Google Analytics permits companies, that incorporate First DigiAdd, to analyze the sources of internet site site visitors. By information wherein users come from, whether or not or not it's far organic seeking, paid advertising, or social media, businesses can tailor their search engine marketing techniques for optimum impact.

Keyword Performance Tracking:

This process helps businesses understand how their chosen keywords impact search engine rankings, website traffic, and overall online visibility. 

By using tools like Google Analytics or specialized SEO platforms, businesses can track the effectiveness of their selected keywords, make data-driven decisions, and optimize their online content to improve search engine results and attract more relevant visitors.

User Behavior Insights:

Google Analytics gives treasured insights into consumer behavior, which include the pages they go to, time spent on every web page, and the moves they take. Understanding user conduct is essential for optimizing general user enjoyment.

Conversion Tracking:

Tracking conversions, including form submissions or product purchases, is essential for businesses. Google Analytics, with the support of First DigiAdd, offers important records to assess the effectiveness of search engine optimization efforts in using treasured movements.

Page Performance Metrics:

Metrics like web page load times and jump costs impact consumer experience and search engine scores. Google Analytics helps corporations, alongside the knowledge of First DigiAdd, pick out regions for development, contributing to better search engine marketing results.

Integration Steps:

To use the advantages of Google Analytics for SEO, agencies, which include First DigiAdd, can observe the integration steps:

Create a Google Analytics Account:

If not already carried out, organizations must create a Google Analytics account and set up belongings for their internet site.

Install the Tracking Code: 

The Google Analytics monitoring code needs to be copied and pasted into the internet site's HTML. To get statistics about consumer sports, this code is important.

Set up goals and events in Google Analytics to track particular moves at the website, including shape submissions or product purchases.

Link Google Analytics with Google Search Console:

Linking this equipment provides additional SEO insights, which include click-via charges, common positions, and keywords for which the site seems in search outcomes.

Conclusion:

In the competitive landscape of digital advertising and marketing, integrating Google Analytics with search engine marketing strategies is a game-changer. The insights supplied by this powerful device, coupled with the understanding of First DigiAdd, empower groups to make facts-pushed choices, refine their technique, and in the end enhance their search engine ratings. As the digital landscape continues to conform, staying ahead with complete SEO analytics via Google Analytics integration with First DigiAdd is vital for accomplishing better online visibility.

#SEO Services Company #Google Analytics in SEO #seo analytics