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youngbounty · 11 months

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Can’t English

Another AsoBaro Week fic for @asobaroweek. This one’s theme is Flower Language and Communication. I thought this idea would be cute.

Barok is a professor of law who recently moved to Japan to join the faculty at Yumei University. Despite growing up in London and studying British law, he has always been fascinated by legal systems from other countries, which is what led him to accept a position at Yumei University through the Foreign Exchange Prosecutor's Program. Despite his enthusiasm for learning, Barok struggled with the language barrier and had trouble communicating with some of his students. However, Barok settled into a comfortable routine, taking the train before driving to the university, greeting his students with a warm smile. He would teach his classes and engage with his students, sometimes discussing topics with colleagues like Dr. Yujin Mikotoba, a professor of Medical Science. After five months of settling into his new environment, Barok received a strange and unusual gift - a bouquet of flowers. Barok's eyes immediately fell upon the striking bouquet of fragrant blooms sitting atop his desk. He could discern the delicate petals of four silver Eucalyptuses, the fiery hues of two orange Ranunculuses, the pristine beauty of two white Lilies, and the intricate lavender patterns on three Roses. Two red Carnations and four cheerful Gerbera Daisies added further brightness to the collection. Barok savored the heady scent of the flowers as he carefully arranged them next to the window, where the sunlight could cast vivid reflections and colorful shadows across the room. Despite his appreciation for their beauty, he also knew the hidden message behind them - beauty, radiance, charm, joy, positive energy, happiness, sunshine, sweetness, purity, enchantment, and admiration. Barok knew that these flowers were associated with romantic or youthful love, but believed the sender likely bought the bouquet from a local flower shop without any knowledge of the flowers' meanings. He found it strange to receive this gift and longed to know the identity of the mysterious giver. Despite searching the vase for any indication of the sender's name, Barok found no further information besides a card that read, “亜双義一真 …. I am still learning English.” He struggled to understand the Japanese characters since he had not yet mastered the Japanese language. He wanted to know who sent the flowers but didn't know how to speak with them because of the language difference. Barok let out a deep, heavy sigh and sank back into his chair, his shoulders drooping and his head falling back against the cushion. He picked up the card once more, hoping to find some clue to the sender's identity, but it remained stubbornly blank. "It's the thought that counts," he supposed. Barok smiled to himself, allowing his imagination to wander. It was amusing to think that one of his students might have a crush on him, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He knew he wasn't as charismatic as his brother, who had a way of charming everyone he met. Still, the flowers would brighten up the classroom and add a touch of beauty to the space. Barok carefully arranged them next to the window, where the sunlight could shine on the petals and leaves, casting colorful shadows across the room. The students seemed to like the bouquet, believing it to be used for decoration. Barok's class continued as usual, but his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the mysterious flowers. He couldn't help but wonder who had sent them and what message they were trying to convey. He tried to discreetly ask a few students who were fluent in English if they knew anything about the bouquet, but they were as clueless as he was. He approached one student in particular, Ryunosuke, who was studying English in another classroom at Yumei. He hoped that Ryunosuke might be able to shed some light on the situation. "Do you know anything about these flowers?" he asked, gesturing toward the bouquet over at the window. Ryunosuke's eyes lit up with curiosity as he leaned forward to get a better look. "Oh, those? I saw them when I came in this morning. Do you know who sent them?" Barok shook his head. "No, and I've been asking around, but no one seems to know anything about them." Ryunosuke nodded sympathetically. "That's frustrating. But wait, there's a card here." He reached out and picked up the small note that was tucked into the flowers. Barok had forgotten about the card. He watched eagerly as Ryunosuke read the message. "Well?" he asked impatiently. Ryunosuke's brow furrowed in confusion. "It's from Kazuma. I don't think he's in any of your classes." "Kazuma? I don't remember anyone by that name... Do you know his surname?" "Asogi, I believe. He's the son of the Dean." “And, you are now telling me this!?” Barok cried out frustratingly. Ryunosuke took a step back, not expecting him to raise his voice and fearful that he offended his teacher. Barok took a moment to collect himself, realizing that he had spoken too loudly to Ryunosuke. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely.

"I-It's alright," Ryunosuke responded, still visibly shaken by the previous outburst. “At the very least, it helps to know his name. Thank you for your help, Mr. Naruhodo.” Ryunosuke bowed respectfully. "You're welcome, van Zieks-sensei. If there's anything else I can do, just let me know."

Barok scrutinized the list of students from all his classes but once again, Kazuma Asogi was absent. This was particularly strange because there was no reason for the Dean's son to know Barok, let alone send him flowers. Puzzled by this unexpected gesture, Barok tried to recall if he had ever met anyone associated with the Dean. However, he could not recall any such encounters, leaving him more confused than before. Barok's unease grew as he received another bouquet of flowers, deepening the mystery. The latest bouquet included yellow carnations, peach ranunculuses, lavender, white hydrangeas, and blue dendrobium orchids. These flowers represent feelings of happiness, joy, charm, attractiveness, purity, gracefulness, abundance, rarity, and uniqueness. While searching for a card, Barok wondered if the sender was the same person as before. Eventually, he found a card with only the name "Kazuma Asogi" written in English, adding to the confusion and intrigue surrounding the mystery. This left Barok perplexed about the reason behind the bouquets. How could the Dean's son afford to give flowers to all the teachers? Also, why were these bouquets meant specifically for him? Barok was certain that Kazuma was not his student, and there were plenty of other newly appointed teachers at the school. The fact that the flowers seemed to have a romantic connotation, especially considering this was the second bouquet from Kazuma, only added to the mystery. As an act of courtesy, Barok placed the new bouquet next to the previous one, but he couldn't resist his curiosity any longer. He decided to discuss the matter with Ryunosuke, the only student who knew Kazuma. In private while all the students were gone, Barok shared his confusion about the bouquets and asked Ryunosuke for insights. Ryunosuke raised his eyebrows in curiosity when Barok mentioned the second bouquet. "Another bouquet? That's strange. I've never seen Kazuma as the gifting type, especially not to people he hardly knows. I figured the first one was out of gratitude." Barok acknowledged Ryunosuke and confidently asked, "Since you appear to be familiar with him, could you kindly inquire about the meaning of these flowers?" "Thank you for informing me about the flowers. My best friend never mentioned it, so I'm grateful for the heads up," expressed Ryunosuke. "I don't know Japanese well enough to ask," Barok said, hesitating. "And if those flowers mean what I think they do..." Ryunosuke interrupted, "You're worried it's romantic?" Barok admitted, "If I were to go by the meaning of these flowers, it does seem that way." Ryunosuke appeared taken aback by Barok's revelation. "Pardon me, Barok, but I find it hard to believe that Kazuma is capable of romantic gestures. He has never exhibited such behavior towards anyone, including his colleagues. It is indeed surprising that he harbors such emotions for you." “Barok sighed, "I haven't given much thought to the idea of romance or teacher-student relationships. It's just strange that he would hold such feelings towards me. I'm not exactly an approachable man." "Pardon me, but I must disagree with your statement," Ryunosuke replied, halting his self-criticism. "While you certainly hold high standards, I do not find you unapproachable. In fact, Van Zieks-sensei is held in high regard by all of us." Barok smiled at the compliment. "Please keep me updated on any news from Kazuma. Thank you."

Ryunosuke displayed an unwavering determination to unravel the mystery that lay before him. Barok, on the other hand, was driven by an insatiable desire to uncover the truth behind Kazuma's peculiar habit of gifting flowers. As he concentrated on his studies, he couldn't help but overhear whispers from his students and colleagues about the frequent bouquets that Kazuma was sending his way. Despite the attention, he felt compelled to keep this information to himself and remain discreet.

Barok was in a tough spot when two small flower bouquets caused a stir among those around him. The gossip that followed became overwhelming, especially coming from a foreign instructor at Yumei University who seemed to enjoy making Barok's life difficult with their constant and unnecessary comments. "Hello, Mr. Van Zieks. I heard that someone has taken a liking to you," said Herlock Sholmes, the peculiar colleague of Professor Yujin Mikotoba and the godfather of Barok's niece. “It's just a student wishing to send me a gift to show his gratitude,” Barok stated. “Regrettably, it seems that the sender of the message is not registered in any of the classes that you teach.”

“How would you know this?” Barok glared with disapproval in his eyes. “Elementary, my dear Professor. Upon observing the exterior of your classroom this morning, I noticed two floral arrangements with the name of the Dean's son inscribed in both English and Japanese. Given that you are the only individual with access to the room, it is a logical deduction that these flowers were delivered prior to your arrival. It is improbable that a student would have sent them, as Mr. Asogi is not listed on your class roster, a fact which I confirmed by perusing the online records which are readily available to all instructors. In light of this evidence, it is reasonable to surmise that the sender of the bouquets must have possessed a master key or perhaps even scaled the building to leave them behind.”

“You read the name on the card from outside the school building, didn’t you?” Barok glared, his voice dripping with venom. “I observed that you've recently displayed signs of agitation upon receiving your initial floral arrangement. It's quite interesting to note that the specific blossoms in the bouquet are imbued with hidden connotations of romantic intent. Fortunately, I have a penchant for studying the significance of flowers during my leisure hours. This knowledge may prove useful upon my return to London.

“Furthermore, I am presently aiding an associate who speaks Japanese as their mother tongue. This has allowed me to refine my abilities in reading and deciphering Japanese to English. I would recommend against concealing the identity of the suitor on the card behind the window frame, as it is visible from your current vantage point.” “You read the card from outside the university building using your goggles, didn't you? Why should I expect any less from you?” Barok grumbled, crossing his arms. “Nevertheless, I'm sure the flowers were no more than simple gifts of gratitude. He is the Dean's son after all.” “Mr. Asogi is one of Dear Mikotoba's students and a beloved friend of his daughter. Giving flowers has never been Dear Kazuma's motif based on my knowledge of how he socializes with his peers and teachers. Not to mention... he's quite knowledgeable in flower language. He was the one that taught me it during my free time after all,” Herlock stated, which took Barok by surprise. Kazuma knew the meanings of flowers!? But then that means... “What are you saying, man!?” Barok asked, too taken aback to respond any other way. “Perhaps nothing, perhaps something. If Dear Kazuma never gives bouquets of flowers to anyone else, let alone a teacher, yet gives two to you and is knowledgeable in the meaning of flowers,” Herlock stated, pointing his finger up, then pointing it to the corner of his forehead. “I'd deduce he knew what those flowers meant when he picked them for you.” Barok stood rooted to the spot, his mind reeling from the sudden realization. If Kazuma had actually sent him those flowers with full knowledge of their symbolic meaning, then what did it imply? Overwhelming fear and disbelief flooded Barok's mind at the thought of Kazuma harboring genuine feelings for him. He struggled to make sense of his jumbled emotions, unable to comprehend the possibility. “That doesn't make sense! I haven't seen Kazuma since I started working here! I barely remember seeing the Dean on my first day!” Barok retorted, his glare intense. “That's not entirely true, my dear chap. As a matter of fact, the Dean was sick on the day the University opened. I realized this when I registered as a teacher's aid here in this school, being I met the Dean, Mr. Genshin Asogi, in his offices with a picture of him and his son displayed at the corner of his desk. It was clear they were father and son based on the physical features they share and the number of times the Dean looks upon the picture with great admiration. I'm certain the Dean had to ask his son to step in and meet with the new staff, being I noticed the same chap behind the desk handing Dear Mikotoba his paperwork. The poor lad was a deer caught in headlights. He wasn't very fluent in English and didn't quite know how to introduce himself to the new staff. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Herlock laughed, his laughter ringing throughout the room. “Wait, are you saying that Kazuma Asogi was the man who introduced the school to the new staff members?” Barok questioned, his hand covering his face in disbelief. At that moment, Barok's memory flashed back to his first day of teaching at the school. He recalled being lost and confused when he stumbled upon the main office. Inside, the air conditioning was on full blast, making the room feel frigid like a walk-in refrigerator. The acrid smell of fresh office papers and the sound of busy copy machines filled the air, intensifying the confusion of several newly appointed staff members waiting in line. Behind the elegant front desk sat a professional Japanese man dressed in a sleek suit and tie. He had striking black, short, choppy hair that gave him an air of confidence. The man spoke Japanese at lightning speed with the person at the front of the queue, his language skills awe-inspiring. Whenever the man handed someone their papers, he would bow courteously, his hand gesturing respectfully. The next person in line, a newly recruited teacher, spoke in English, which broke the spell of the previously spoken Japanese language. The teacher spoke up as soon as he and Barok entered the office. "Hi, I'm teaching here at Yumei and I need to collect my map and lesson plans." The young man behind the desk looked up at them, blinking a few times before responding. "Paper, you need paper?" he replied in heavily accented and broken English, searching frantically through his drawers. "No, I need my lesson plans and a map!" the teacher repeated, growing increasingly impatient. "Yes, papers... sorry," the young man apologized, his face red with embarrassment. Barok couldn't help feeling sympathetic towards him. It was clear that he had little grasp of the English language. Without hesitation, Barok offered to help. Barok offered to help and immediately pulled out his phone. "Here, let me assist you." He handed the teacher his phone, which displayed an app with English text ready to record any spoken words. Below the English text box was a Japanese translation, showing what would be displayed in the English text box. However, the frustrated teacher didn't understand Barok's intentions. "I'm just trying to collect my lesson plans and a map of the school!" he exclaimed, getting more and more agitated. Barok's phone displayed the teacher's spoken words in the text, translating from English to Japanese. To help the young man behind the desk understand, Barok pressed the button on the Japanese text, which then spoke aloud in a professional voice. The young man behind the desk heard the translation and immediately began rummaging through the drawer of his desk, pulling out the lesson plans and map of the school the teacher had been asking for. "Sorry! Sorry!" he cried out in Japanese. "Thank you," the teacher said as he took the papers and rushed out, still visibly frustrated. The young man behind the desk appeared ashamed and embarrassed, covering his face. Feeling satisfied that he had been able to help, Barok introduced himself. "Watashi no namae wa Barok van Zieks," he said, using the Japanese greetings that he knew. The young man looked up, removing his hands from his face. "Yoroshiku onegai shi masu." "Arigatou gozaimasu," the young man responded, his gentle smile conveying gratitude. Barok opened the same app on his phone that had helped him translate before, but this time he used it to record his own voice. "Excuse me, I would like my lesson plans and map, please. I'm sorry for not knowing much Japanese," he spoke into his phone. The app instantly translated his words into Japanese. When the young man on the other end heard the translated message, he chuckled before going to his drawer and retrieving everything that Barok needed: the lesson plans, the map of the school, and other paperwork. "Th-Thank you... Van Zieks-sensei," the young man stumbled over the words as he struggled to speak correctly in English. "You're welcome," Barok replied, bowing out of courtesy before leaving. As he walked away, he noticed the young man smiling, his cheeks flushed pink from being flustered. Barok didn't dwell on the incident with the young man and had a suspicion that he couldn't be the Dean. The young man's "thank you" was overly formal for someone of his presumed status, suggesting that he considered himself below Barok's authority. However, this theory didn't quite explain why the man had not given the flowers directly to Barok. Despite these doubts, Barok now understood why Kazuma had given him the bouquet of flowers. He was the young Japanese man he met on his first day working at Yumei University.

After snapping out of his reverie, Herlock asked, "have you solved the mystery of your admirer?" "Somewhat," Barok muttered, eager to see the young man's face once more. Later that day, when Barok was walking by the offices, he peeked inside the office where he had first met Kazuma on his opening day at Yumei University, and a wave of disappointment washed over Barok. An older man with a dark suit, mustache, and ponytail sat at the desk instead of the young man he longed to see. Barok sighed softly, realizing how unlikely that would be to find the young man again. Just as he turned to leave, Barok spotted a figure he recognized running towards the main office. It was Kazuma, and he was biting his lip, looking nervous. As he approached Barok, he seemed unsure of how to say what was on his mind. Barok felt the same way, his body frozen as he tried to remember any Japanese he knew. His eyes darted around before he looked back at Kazuma. Their lack of a shared language complicated their attempts to express themselves. Kazuma felt ashamed and embarrassed that he couldn't communicate better in English, feeling like he knew much less than Barok knew of Japanese. Turning to run away with, "I'm sorry" leaving his lips, he heard Barok call after him. "Wait! Azaasu!" Kazuma paused, his heart thudding in his chest as he turned to face Barok. Barok continued speaking softly with a soft, comforting, "Ohana." Kazuma froze, his body shaking without anything he could deliver from his lips. Even when his lips moved, they froze in that very spot. Kazuma's eyes fell to the ground, his face flushed with embarrassment. There was nothing he could say. Darkness clouded his eyes in shame as he bowed to Barok halfway. "I'm sorry!" Kazuma apologized. Barok shook his head. He used nonverbal cues like smiles and gestures to show he was listening. He smiled softly at Kazuma with great understanding and sympathy. Barok felt the same at times when his students asked him questions after class. Kazuma understood the smile that graced Barok's lips, returning it with his own. However, that smile turned into a frown, a dark shadow casting over his eyes. Did Kazuma wish to say more? Feeling frustrated by their inability to communicate, Barok took out his phone and showed Kazuma the translator app they had used during their first meeting. Seeing the familiar app, Kazuma felt a glimmer of hope. Barok spoke in Japanese, the device translating his words: "I wish to learn English so I can tell you what is on my heart. I promise to work hard and get better." Kazuma's eyes widened with surprise and gratitude. He took the phone and replied in Japanese, "I will do the same." Barok nodded, relieved to have found a way to communicate with his admirer. Kazuma felt a rush of warmth flood his chest, a smile spreading across his face. Perhaps this was the beginning of a meaningful connection between them. He bowed to Barok, saying "Arigato," happily. Barok replied with "Dōitashimashite," feeling a sense of camaraderie with the young man. As Kazuma turned to leave, Barok smiled after him, feeling grateful for the opportunity to connect with him.

That was when Barok realized that he had to return Kazuma's message in those flowers. The next day, Ryunosuke confirmed Barok's suspicions after class. "Van Zieks-sensei, Kazuma is quite frustrated. He cannot truly articulate his feelings for you, and wishes for you to know what's in his heart," Ryunosuke explained, fidgeting with his pen. He remembered struggling with the language barrier when he first learned English during English Class last year in a different classroom and imagined how Kazuma must have felt. "I see. So Kazuma has feelings for me," Barok said with a slight smile. He had suspected it all along. "More of an attraction, sir. He is drawn to you but finds it difficult to express himself. He worries he will never understand you fully and feels ashamed he did not study English more," Ryunosuke replied, pressing the pen down harder on his notepad. "You can assure him that there is nothing to be ashamed of. I understand the struggle of learning a new language," Barok said, his voice calm and understanding. "Kazuma is a passionate person, sir. He reaches for the stars, even if they are beyond his grasp. He wants to take his time, so please do not feel pressured," Ryunosuke added, looking up to meet his van Zieks-sensei's gaze. "Of course. The bouquet was quite sweet, but nothing too romantic," Barok chuckled. He thought back to the flowers Kazuma had given him, and how endearing they were. "I believe he wanted to convey a small crush, sir," Ryunosuke grinned. He was glad to have lightened the mood with his teacher. Barok laughed. "Well, it definitely conveyed something. I thought you Japanese were superstitious about even numbers of flowers," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Actually, we do not mind. Only the number four is considered unlucky. It can represent death," Ryunosuke explained, tapping his pen on the notepad. "Interesting. In the UK, we have our fair share of superstitions too. For example, people used to plant hawthorn flowers in hedgerows to protect their livestock from witches," Barok said, reminiscing on some of the strange traditions of his birthplace. "Really? And what about Christmas traditions?" Ryunosuke asked, intrigued. "Ah, yes. Holly is often used to represent the thorns and blood of Christ's crown. It is said to protect the household," Barok replied, his tone growing more animated with each word. "I never knew that! See, Sensei, there is always something to learn from different cultures," Ryunosuke exclaimed, smiling. "Indeed. Just like how flowers can bring two worlds together. Each country has its own culture and language, but they all have flowers. The national flower can even tell you something about that country," Barok said, his voice taking on a more reflective tone. "And what about the rose, sir? Isn't it the national flower of the UK?" Ryunosuke asked, thinking back to his own knowledge of flowers. "Yes, the red rose. It represents love and romance. But did you know that yellow roses signify friendship and new beginnings, while pink roses are for gratitude and admiration?" Barok said, wanting to share his knowledge. "I had no idea!" Ryunosuke exclaimed, amazed. "And cherry blossoms signify renewal and the beginnings of life. It seems this country is full of new starts," Barok added, his voice laced with pride. "And the UK is full of love, gratitude, and admiration! It's amazing how different countries have so many similarities," Ryunosuke said, grinning. Barok smiled back. "Yes, we may speak different languages, but the language of flowers is universal."

Barok thought about the language barrier between him and Kazuma. Realistically, it would take time before they could speak fluently with each other. Nonetheless, he wanted to show Kazuma his appreciation for the bouquets he had received. Luckily, he was able to find out when Kazuma's next free period was. With the remaining time, Barok set out to craft a gift to thank Kazuma for his kindness. Barok carefully chose specific flowers with meanings, such as Privet Berries for peace and sincerity, Blue Mountain Thistles for strength and courage, green roses for luck and good fortune, white Calla Lilies for purity, white tulips for peace and forgiveness, hot pink Dahlias for grace and kindness with a hint of romance, hot pink Calla Lilies to show appreciation, admiration, and romantic interest and regular pink Peonies to signify fortune, prosperity, and love. As he arranged the flowers, Barok felt flattered by Kazuma's admiration. Despite the age difference, their relationship was legal, since Kazuma wasn't a student in any of his classes. The next morning, Barok nervously searched for Kazuma's classroom. He had heard that Kazuma often helped out Professor Mikotoba before school, so he peeked inside and saw Kazuma assisting the teacher. Barok knocked on the door, causing both the professor and learner to turn and notice him. “Ah, van Zieks-san! How are you this morning?” Professor Mikotoba greeted him warmly. “I wanted to see Kazuma to thank him for his gifts,” Barok said, presenting the bouquet and trying to hide his nervousness. “Two gifts?” Professor Mikotoba asked, turning to Kazuma with a question in Japanese. Kazuma blushed and looked away. Barok handed the bouquet to Kazuma, who accepted it with a smile. “Arigatou gozaimasu, van Zieks-sensei!” Kazuma thanked him politely, bowing. “Barok,” Barok corrected, deciding to be more casual. “B-Barok,” Kazuma repeated, looking up at him with a smile. Barok smiled back. “Boku to tsukiau te morae mase nichi ka?” Barok asked, hoping his Japanese was correct when asking Kazuma on a date. He was surprised, but his eyes lit up with excitement. “Y-Yes,” Kazuma replied, looking at the bouquet. “Quite a strange way of finding love, but then again Kazuma was always one to go big,” Professor Mikotoba observed with a chuckle. “Considering Kazuma isn't my student and he works around the school anyway, I don't see any problem with this relationship,” Barok said, trying to remain composed. “True. The language barrier will be a challenge, but I'm sure you're up for it,” Professor Mikotoba said, smiling. Barok nodded, smiling warmly at Kazuma. They had a lot to learn about each other, but for now, Barok was happy to bask in the warmth of Kazuma's smile and the knowledge that something special had just begun.

#asobaroweek2023 #asobaroweek #BaroAso #Flower Language #Communication #day 2 #Barok van Zieks #kazuma asogi #Ace Attorney #The Great Ace Attorney #This was longer than I thought #Hopefully I'll be able to post this on the AsoBaro AO3 collection

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tbenvs3000w23 · 1 year

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My Future as a Nature Interpreter

I entered this class not knowing what to expect; “nature Interpretation” was a term I had never heard anywhere. If I’m being completely honest, I still did not really understand what nature interpretation was for the early portion of the course - I struggled to understand the concept. Here in Unit 10, I now know not only what nature interpretation is, but how I fit into it.

The first concept that resonated with me was that of an “invisible backpack” (Gallavan 2005). I have always known I live a privileged life, but as silly as it sounds, writing about it for this class made me realize how many things I take for granted. Looking solely at my experiences with nature, I’ve had the opportunities to go camping at least once a year, as well as live in a house with a backyard, have pets, trips to the zoo as a child, and so much more. All of these experiences have led me to where I am today - studying environmental sciences in University, which is YET ANOTHER PRIVILEGE! I won’t go into detail on what I need to unpack from my invisible backpack, as I did that in a previous post, but the reason I’m writing this is simply to acknowledge that my audiences in whatever setting may not have had the same opportunities I have had, which might make it harder to use my experiences as topics to relate on.

Here's a beautiful park my family and I walk to a few times a year. This particular morning there were a couple feathered-friends on the water :)

I strongly believe that nature is healing to everyone on earth, and even though I have met many people who ‘absolutely hate the outdoors’, nature appreciation can be as simple as enjoying the sunset, or loving rainy days. Reaching audiences of different age groups, from different places, with different interests creates the need to look further than one's own experiences when presenting information or knowledge of nature.

As I develop as a nature interpreter, I would say my personal ethic is similar to my mentality and beliefs going about my life day to day; trying to make more kind and respectful decisions, considering myself but also those around me. To touch briefly on the invisible backpack concept once more, after completing these blog posts, I now understand how I must change my voice to appeal to more audiences. I also know how there are many different mediums I can use to share stories and information about nature, and how some may appeal to some demographics more than others which is important to take into consideration (Beck 2018).

Growing up, I knew I wanted to pursue a career working with animals. This later developed into a passion for the environment as a whole, and I ended up deciding on environmental sciences as a university major rather than zoology, which had initially been all I ever wanted to do. At a young age, and up until today, I’ve never known what I wanted to do with this desire to work within nature.

My parents have mentioned that they think I would make a good teacher because I am a very patient and passionate person, which I never gave a second thought to be quite honest. But I do think it is a path I would enjoy - I love working with kids, and I get a lot of joy out of explaining the concepts I’ve learned about. When I’m studying concepts for tests I like to get someone who doesn’t know the material to quiz me; I’ll compress what I know into the most useful information and explain it to them to help them understand it, which really helps me for some reason. I grew up with a younger brother, and he would always be interested in whatever I was interested in, so he would ask me a million questions about animals and whatever else I was interested in at the time. The one big difference between us was what we excelled at; I was quite good at maths and science, whereas he struggled with them. When he struggled with a math unit, or science concept, I loved sitting down with him and working through it. We have a 5 year age gap, so it was honestly a nice refresher to go over these things again years later. I would find myself teaching the concepts the way I wanted to be taught them, until a couple years into helping him when I realized his learning style is different from mine. This was a good experience as it allowed me to understand different learning styles, which is yet another topic covered in this course!

While teaching does sound exciting, I am not sure it is what I would want to do for a career. I think it is a wonderful way to spread the love of nature (if that were the field I ended up teaching in). I do however feel the responsibility to use my passion for spreading knowledge within whatever field I enter after post-secondary. I believe that passion is important in any job; even as I worked minimum wage fast food jobs in high school, I would go about my day with a positive attitude, as I’ve always found that a positive attitude makes my entire day better, even if I’m faking it, it soon becomes genuine.

Following this course, I strive to be more aware of my audience in all aspects of life, which will allow me to be more inclusive. My final thoughts on this course are all positive. I have enjoyed creating all of my posts because they honestly feel like a break from my busy schedule sometimes - which I’m sure many of my peers can relate to. I would absolutely recommend this course to others, especially to those not in environmental sciences, as I feel like they can learn a lot from this experience as well. Thanks to anyone who read this post, this one was a lot of fun, and I'm honestly a little sad this is the last one as I've been enjoying writing these. Good luck with your future endeavours everyone! :)

Gallavan, N. P. (2005). Helping teachers unpack their “invisible knapsacks.” Multicultural Education (San Francisco, Calif.), 13(1), 36–36.

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018c). Chapter 7: Serving Diverse Audience. Interpreting cultural and natural heritage : for a better world. (pp.105-123) Sagamore Venture.

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helloquotemyfoot · 2 years

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Can you do 7, 17 and 19 for Fe3h ?

7. Favourite Church character, and why?

I hate these favourite character questions BECAUSE IT'S SO HARD TO CHOOSE!! I've legit been wondering how I can pick between Hanneman, Manuela, or Shamir since I saw this in my inbox 😭 but since I suspect Hanneman might be less talked about in wider fandom I'm going to use this space to talk about him.

First, as a character, Hanneman is a lot of fun. His obsession with Crests is hilarious and causes some of the absolute best early game interactions (nothing in the first four chapters of the game is funnier than Byleth seeing their hair in the Crest analyser in Hanneman's office and going "oh. i have lots of that. here, have some more." and Hanneman looks at this blank-faced mercenary and is like "FINALLY someone who appreciates ✨science✨" like two absolute beautiful idiots) and he slots so neatly into the "eccentric scientist" archetype in a way that feels comforting. He speaks to me in a lot of ways because I, too, can suddenly go off on long lectures about my particular interests because they're just SO GOOD, you know, and I want to tell everyone!! And I really like that Hanneman actually takes that joy in his work and wants to spread that joy around; unlike a lot of scientist characters, for the most part he isn't condescending to others, he just wants to share his knowledge. The exception to this is Manuela, who he has the BEST bickering and banter with (and it's worth noting that he's talking to her not just adult-to-adult, but one high ranking professional to another. it's not completely unreasonable to expect Manuela to have her shit together. of course the fact that she doesn't is part of her exceptional charm and i would die for her, but still, Hanneman's got a bit of a point lol). Hanneman mimicking Manuela's "three second rule" with that appalled tone of voice is just really fucking funny. The way they clash and play off each other is so great to see. His softer and caring side is sweet as well, taking time to encourage students like Marianne and Annette, and despite all their bickering he shows real concern for Manuela in their paralogue. I got Marianne & Hanneman's paired ending on my very first playthrough so it has a special place in my heart, but seeing him try to encourage her to see something that she believes marks her as cursed as something that she can use instead is heartwarming, and it pays off in their ending, which is the only one that explicitly notes the creation of peacetime uses for Hanneman's Relic-like inventions.

This last point takes me to the real reason that Hanneman is one of my favourite characters from the game, though, which is how he seems to slot seamlessly into this eccentric scientist role, a harmless uncle/mentor figure who's obsessed with ✨Crest science✨ to the exclusion of other things. I described him as "comfortable" and he does definitely seem to be a comforting, uncomplicated character who you can understand at first glance.

And then his Crimson Flower exclusive support with Edelgard utterly turns that idea on its head. I *liked* Hanneman before I saw this support chain, afterwards he was catapulted towards my top ten at high speed. If you haven't actually seen/read his Edelgard support, I really recommend that you do that, because it's so good. The game does such a great job of using this support to pull the rug out from under you in regards to Hanneman's character. Because like many of these kind of obsessed eccentric scientist types, it's easy to assume at first glance that he cares about Crestology just for the sake of the study; science for science's sake. But that isn't true. This obsession has PURPOSE and that purpose marks Hanneman as a radical equal to Edelgard. In losing his sister to her abusive husband, Hanneman had exactly one of those moments that I lovingly discussed Edelgard having in the previous ask, experiencing it not just as a personal tragedy but as a moment of clarity as he realised how much harm is caused in this dogmatic pursuit of Crests. His lifelong obsession with Crests suddenly represents not just pure scientific interest, but an act of love for his sister, a monument to her in his grief, an act of rebellion. Hanneman leaving the Empire to study Crests at Garreg Mach isn't simply pursuing scientific opportunity, but Hanneman being determined to unravel the mystery of Crests and undermine the legitimacy of the nobility as a class, RIGHT UNDER THE CHURCH'S FUCKING NOSE. That is bold as fuck.

Anyway, in summary, no Crimson Flower playthrough is complete without the OG anti-Crest radical. We have no choice but to stan. Bonus points: Crimson Flower Hanneman canonically teaches the Blue Lions, so you can imagine the death glare he is giving Sylvain 24/7. I love my problematic fave Sylvain, but he deserves to sweat a bit.

17. Favourite Ashen Wolves support chain, and why?

Unfortunately I've been so busy that I havent been able to experience all the Ashen Wolves support chains yet, I've only had time for so many playthroughs 😔 So bear in mind that my experience with them is still a bit incomplete!

All that said, I think from what I know so far, I'm going to have to say Claude and Balthus. This is an important support for a number of reasons. One, Balthus thirsting over Claude's mother is absolutely delightful. Man just wants an older woman who can and will step on him, is that really so much to ask?

Okay, but serious talk, the reason I enjoy this support so much is because Balthus is the only other named character who has an experience close to Claude, a mixed race person who's had to hide their origins and who's experienced the affects of Fodlan's xenophobic culture. He's also the only character to actually know Claude's origins, which reveals the depth of Claude's secrecy and fear of this secret being exposed - even in their post time skip A, Claude still talks about people who'd "love to see me fall". Even when he's officially become Duke Riegan and head of the Alliance, Claude still doesn't feel secure in his position, which reflects how deep this xenophobia and disgust at outsiders runs. Balthus's story must seem to back this up for Claude - nobody even knew for sure where Balthus's mother was from, but that wasn't enough to protect her, and she was eventually hounded out of House Albrecht along with Balthus. I do wish there was a bit more to this support, like maybe a B+ where Claude and Balthus discuss their experiences more, but all the same it's important for worldbuilding in showing how deep this dislike runs. I also feel like the A support provides for Claude someone he can talk to who will better understand where he's coming from, so he can more freely discuss his plans. He approaches Balthus despite "having a feeling" that Balthus would be a bit critical about the potential risks. I think this represents Claude seeking some reassurance that this is a gamble worth taking and that his vision for the future really will benefit everyone. All in all, Balthus is a figure that I really, really wanted to be in the base game, which is someone who knows more of Claude's deal and can challenge and support him on a more informed basis. I really like that Balthus as a secret confidant continues into their ending and he becomes a really trusted ally to Claude as well, even if the "no homo" marriage of Balthus to Nader's daughter is disappointing. They really are determined to make Claude the only straight lord, huh.

Additional shout out to Yuri and Ingrid's support, which isn't that deep, but given how self-conscious Ingrid is about food, it's really nice for her to have a support where it's treated as a positive and cute thing.

19. Support chain(s) you wish had had an A support, and why?

There are really so many support chains I could pick here, which I think is a testament to how cool this game is, that there's already so many character interactions but you can still list like a dozen that have so much potential and you wish had gotten more screentime. However, I'm going to just go with my personal biases and say Sylvain & Marianne.

One of the reasons that I like this existing support is because it's one of the occasions you see Sylvain, pre time skip, being caring towards others, and it's especially heartwarming in the case of Marianne who is especially vulnerable and could really be hurt by someone like Sylvain. I get his advice about smiling could rub people the wrong way and come off as telling a depressed person to "just be happy", but in a setting without any understanding of mental health, it's still clearly well intentioned, and the message Sylvain sends is not to just instantly switch to being happy (as though that were possible), but to smile as a show of forced confidence, so Marianne can go out and experience the world more and find genuine reasons to smile.

Despite the fact that I like the support as it is, I think an A support could really add a lot to both characters. One of the things I think would be a really good addition to Sylvain's character is a platonic A support with a woman - whilst I like the development and change that he shows in his other supports, it's still a bit awkward to have this all occur in supports that are ultimately romantic, where Sylvain kinda gets 'rewarded' with a woman's love. (This is part of the reason why I really like his B-only supports where he's a bit nicer to some of his classmates.) I think an A support with Marianne where Sylvain encourages her and mentors her as a big brother figure instead of a romantic partner could showcase some really good character development, separate from any sense of being 'rewarded', and show he actually changes for the sake of being a better person in its own right. This would also be a great opportunity to expand on his own issues with Crests in a positive sense, explore what he hopes to achieve with the peace with Sreng which is a strong feature of all of his endings (i.e. negate the need for the Gautier Crest to exist and end the cycle of abuse in his family). It would even be awesome if Marianne could support Sylvain in turn by pointing out that he helped her with just his words, and encourage him to try despite his own personal fears/failings.

As for Marianne, whilst her A supports where she finds more confidence and support with friends/romantic partners are all really amazing, there's one thing that I feel is potentially missing from her lineup, which is a support where she actually gets to be angry. I think it would be powerful if she had some room to say that she should never have been made to feel monstrous just because of the Crest she carries, say explicitly not that she believes in herself despite her Crest, but that her Crest doesn't make her awful, there is nothing she has to "make up" for, all that time she spent hating herself was destructive and wrong, and it's fine for her to be angry about that. I think there are a lot of people who identify with Marianne's struggles in some fashion who would find that cathartic, but on a character note, I think it would be really cool and important if Marianne could have a moment of "reclamation", in a sense, where she actively repudiates the negative associations of her Crest. I get the sense that in many supports, she still feels/recovers a sense of self-worth 'in spite of' her Crest, and it would be great for her to have a moment to reject that, that her Crest has no bearing on her value as a person. Of course, Marianne is naturally a gentle and soft-spoken character, which is part of her charm, so where would this moment fit in with her current support cast? I'd argue that Sylvain is a pretty good choice. In their existing supports, they already find a bit of common ground on negative experiences with Crests, and I think Sylvain's deep bitterness and anger over his own Crest would give Marianne a space where it's natural for her to express some of these feelings as well. But I think she's ultimately an optimistic person and she could provide some pushback against Sylvain by reminding him about the opportunities he has because of his Crest, as well (taking leadership of Gautier and being able to change things). Ultimately, I think it would just be a great moment for both characters.

For an ending, I envision one where Marianne and Sylvain share their expertise as diplomats, and become renowned throughout Fodlan for their powers of speech, remaining friends their whole lives and each always having the ability to make the other smile. In a Crimson Flower specific ending, I'd like to see them work for Edelgard as imperial diplomats and negotiate with Fodlan's neighbours, bringing peaceful cultural exchange and new ties to the continent.

Thank you so much for these asks! These were really interesting ones to explore! Reminder if anyone else wants to ask me about Three Houses, these are all from these asks here.

#ask #answer #hanneman #marianne #sylvain #claude #balthus #fire emblem three houses #analysis #fan supports #another long post i'm sorry

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anniekoh · 2 months

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I've been slowly, tentatively learning about birds and going out to bird, courtesy of the Bird Alliance of Oregon and the Feminist Bird Club. And of course, reading a zillion books about birds. Find More Birds is super helpful and I loved Slow Birding for its focus on the often overlooked "common" birds. The third book is on my to read list!

Find More Birds: 111 Surprising Ways to Spot Birds Wherever You Are

by Heather Wolf (2023)

"Packed with excellent photos and tips, deeply relatable anecdotes, and a palpable sense of joy, this gem of a book will make you a better birder."—Rosemary Mosco, author of A Pocket Guide to Pigeon Watching Seeing more birds than you ever imagined and witnessing exciting avian drama is possible—whether you're on the go or in your own neighborhood, local park, or backyard. As Heather Wolf explains, it all comes down to how you tune in to the show happening around you, the one in which birds—highly skilled at staying under the radar—are the stars. In Find More Birds, Heather shares her very best tactics—and the jaw-dropping photographs they helped her capture. Look for birds at their favorite "restaurants"— from leaf litter to berry bushes, and ball fields to small patches of mud. Watch for "tree bark" that moves . . . you may find it has feathers. Try simply sitting on the ground for a revealing new perspective. Plus, special tips point the way to crowd favorites such as hummingbirds, owls, and eagles—and can't-miss bird behaviors. As your senses sharpen and "noticing" becomes second nature, Find More Birds will turn your daily routines into bird-finding adventures, too. Whether you're strolling down the block or parking your car, you never know what will surprise you next!

Slow Birding: The Art and Science of Enjoying the Birds in Your Own Backyard

by Joan E. Strassmann (2022)

Many birders travel far and wide to popular birding destinations to catch sight of rare or “exotic” birds. In Slow Birding, evolutionary biologist Joan E. Strassmann introduces readers to the joys of birding right where they are. In this inspiring guide to the art of slow birding, Strassmann tells colorful stories of the most common birds to be found in the United States—birds we often see but might not have considered deeply before. For example, northern cardinals thrive in the city, where they are free from predators. White brows on a male white-throated sparrow indicate that he is likely to be a philanderer. This essential guide to the fascinating world of common, everyday birds features: detailed portraits of individual bird species and the scientists who have discovered and observed themadvice and guidance on what to look for when slow birding, so that you can uncover clues to the reasons behind specific bird behaviorsbird-focused activities that will open your eyes more to the fascinating world of birds Slow Birding is the perfect guide for the birder looking to appreciate the beauty of the birds right in their own backyard, observing keenly how their behaviors change from day to day and season to season.

The Private Lives of Public Birds: Learning to Listen to the Birds Where We Live

by Jack Gedney (2022)

Jack Gedney's studies of birds provide resonant, affirming answers to the questions: Who is this bird? In what way is it beautiful? Why does it matter? Masterfully linking an abundance of poetic references with up-to-date biological science, Gedney shares his devotion to everyday Western birds in fifteen essays. Each essay illuminates the life of a single species and its relationship to humans, and how these species can help us understand birds in general. A dedicated birdwatcher and teacher, Gedney finds wonder not only in the speed and glistening beauty of the Anna's hummingbird, but also in her nest building. He acclaims the turkey vulture's and red-tailed hawk's roles in our ecosystem, and he venerates the inimitable California scrub jay's work planting acorns. Knowing that we hear birds much more often than we see them, Gedney offers his expert's ear to help us not only identify bird songs and calls but also understand what the birds are saying. The crowd at the suet feeder will never look quite the same again. Join Gedney in the enchanted world of these not-so-ordinary birds, each enlivened by a hand-drawn portrait by artist Anna Kus Park.

#birding #birb #to read

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tbkenvs3000w24 · 3 months

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The Art of Nature Interpretation

Our natural world is a major influence in my life and has inspired me to study environmental science and create art in the form of photography and paintings. I use these art forms to capture my love and appreciation for the natural world. When outdoors, I am constantly inspired to take photographs of sunsets, bodies of water, flowers, trees, and different animals. When I take these photos, I am trying to convey my feelings of wonder, excitement, curiosity, and love from that moment surrounded by nature. Similarly, natural environments are often my source of inspiration when I feel the desire to paint. When I paint a landscape or an organism, I try to visualize the beauty of the natural wonders that bring joy to my life. Through art, I try to interpret the importance of our natural world and the emotions I feel when surrounded by nature. Photographs, paintings, drawings, and music with environmental themes tend to ignite strong emotional responses in me. These emotional responses in turn influence me to learn about environmental issues and ways to protect our resources.

A photo I took of the crabapple tree in front of my house.

Art has been used for centuries by people around the world to interpret and capture the beauty of our natural world. Art can illustrate nature in perspectives that build new emotional and intellectual connections to the environment and its resources (Beck et al., 2019). Interpreters, such as I, can use art to deliver themes of stewardship that incorporate science while drawing on people's emotions. Interpreters can inspire people to see the value in their surroundings (Beck & Cable, 2011). Interpretation tools such as voice, movement, music, and storytelling are valuable ways to get people to determine the quality of the natural world for themselves (Beck et al., 2019). Incorporating art into interpretation exposes people to different forms of art that they resonate with and allows them to interpret themes for themselves.

Photo taken at Six Mile Lake. The mix of shade and sunlight over the waterfall created a gorgeous scene.

Environmental education with a strong art focus can allow people to understand natural processes and issues in new ways (van Boeckel, 2014). Additionally, different art forms provide people with little exposure to natural environments and the opportunity to build emotional connections with nature, which is the first step to environmental stewardship. When people observe a beautiful piece of art that resonates with them, whether it is a painting, photography, song, or story, they may be moved to learn more and to protect our natural resources.

A photograph I took of a sugar shack used to make Maple Syrup. The beauty of the fog in the distance with the tall trees surrounding the building inspired me to take this photo.

Beck & Cable (2011) explain that interpretation provides people with the “gift of beauty”. Through the art of interpretation, people can carefully combine science, history, and art in an inspirational way (Beck et al., 2019). Interpretation with the use of art can ignite an individual's desire and ability to feel the beauty of the world. The emotional and intellectual connection gained from the “gift of beauty” promotes people's desire to protect the earth's resources. Seeing the beauty in nature is the most vital key to environmental sustainability. To me, the ‘gift of beauty’ is one of the most significant things a person can have. The ability to see beauty in our world allows people to make meaningful connections and find fulfilment every day.

References

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2019). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: For A Better World. Sagamore Publishing.

Beck, L., & Cable, T. T., (2011). The gifts of interpretation: Fifteen guiding principles for in-terpreting nature and culture. Sagamore Publishing.

van Boeckel, J. (2014). At the heart of art and earth: An exploration of practices in arts-based Environmental Education. Environmental Education Research, 21(5), 801–802. https://doi.org/10.1080/13504622.2014.959474

#nature interpretation

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mosesdumpin · 9 months

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I really wanted to be a misanthropic little shit. I tried to be a cynic. None of it could last very long. I can't assume the world has fallen ill to evil and the default stance of humanity is malice. I wanted to think like this because I have been mistreated, unloved, damaged, and victimized. I was abandoned and felt a gaping maw where I was told love would be. Telling my stories, explaining my emotions, and sharing my history should enable my turn into heavy-lidded nihilism. But I just love humans so fucking much.

In fact, one of the primary overwhelming and positive emotions I have felt lately have been a deep appreciation of humanity as a whole. I want to be clear, I am not claiming this as a version of inherent compassion or empathy. It is the result of the lack of socialization, hyper-fixations, and nosiness. I was/am a know-it-all little shithead whose entire ego is wrapped up in what I know or do not know. And a subject that requires a steady, risky, years-long, and ongoing study in order to even vaguely understand is Other People. From social behaviors to being introspectively aware its not something you learn from articles or science journals. Sure, you can get the gist or memorize the outline of it all, but the reason this subject (other humans) is so difficult is because, like a rudimentary mirror of quantum mechanics, it is fundamentally altered at every step through the sheer existence of yourself. Knowing yourself should be easy, but it is not for the same reason its difficult to know others. Yourself is fundamentally altered at every step through the sheer existence of literally anyone else. Our identities and selves are feedback loops who are constantly trying to give structure to a dynamic system unfathomably larger than ourselves - like how we choose to draw a wave in the ocean. I sometimes go on a kick watching dance crews and choreography. This is happening more since I got into XG since I find their performance captivating and tends to trigger this urge. This usually always ends in me sobbing; rocking back and forth with the famously ugly cry face as if I've lost a loved one. In reality, I'm overwhelmed with awe and joy at how fundamentally Human dancing and music is. It isn't so much like crying at something beautiful as it is succumbing to the sheer weight of something too huge for me to ever understand. That isn't to say it isn't a GOOD emotion. Its one of my favorite emotions. I know we like to do the whole "blue speck in an infinite universe" thing but to me its like being a flea on a rat musing about the unfathomable scale of New York City when we can only barely conceptualize the rat we are standing on. Humanity taking the accidentally evolved (redundant phrasing, just assume I mean it for emphasis) survival trait of pattern recognition and remixing it with digital (as in, fingers and such) dexterity to create music and THEN remix it again within the boundaries of the bodily dexterity/flexibility we lost when becoming bipedal... while syncing the best of what we have gained with what we have lost to express something we perceive as infinite - cognition and emotion. Above all, since pre-history and pre-pre-history, likely since our pattern seeking behaviors honed to its slightest edge, we did this despite it offering only token or deeply indirect assistance to survival or production. You can argue its a social behavior (which is true) and helps all of our social ties in some way but honestly, have you danced alone before? Have you felt that joy, that eruption of movement to music or excitement? Have you felt joy or peace when you've hit the right note at the right time when you aren't even trying to play a specific song or piece? Sure, this is social, our brains reward us for refining a social behavior blah blah. Honestly I think every time we sing, play a song, create music, dance, tap our feet, bang our heads, move in sync, shake, jump, exult, and CREATE we are riding the resonance of humanity like the surface tension of a rock being skipped across a vast, unimaginable ocean of ourself. This idea is my Eldritch God, my Seraphim, my Infinitely Expanding Universe, and the Face of God. I cower before the knowledge of how small and weak I am compared to it, but I can exult that I am an aspect of it, like a single pixel in a digital photo whose dimensions are so large I can only define it as infinity.

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isaaclewis · 10 months

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Reply to a Facebook post

(Context: the original post was a discussion of a quote by Henry Poincare. "The scientist does not study nature because it is useful; he studies it because he delights in it, and he delights in it because it is beautiful." The OP held that this quote represented a "Platonist mindset", i.e., the idea that we pursue knowledge as an end-in-itself and not for any practical purpose. [If you read this as pursuing knowledge solely as an end-itself, and deliberately eschewing all practical purposes, then this is a bad idea for those who value the advance of industrial civilisation.] Someone else agreed and added "nature is not beautiful, it is messy". The below was my reply.)

Nature contains order, symmetry, organisation, patterns, structure. It follows laws and the laws create regularities. Grasping the recurring patterns in the world is pleasing to the mind, for a similar reason that grasping the patterns in a piece of music, or the shape of a beautiful building or car, is pleasing.

= = = = =

This post bugged me a lot; I thought about it a bit and I think I know why.

Anyone who is deeply immersed in their work (truly valuable work that they aim to do with a superlative degree of quality), at the times when they are immersed in their work, feels like *they are doing the work for its own sake*, and not for the benefit of others. The true craftsman wants to deeply understand his ideal user, but that is because his craft has to be closely fit to the needs of the (ideal) user, and not because he is doing the work for the sake of others.

People who are deeply immersed in truth-seeking work (like science) do so for the joy of discovery. E O Wilson (who, incidentally, Harry Binswanger knocked for his work on "sociobiology") described the "Ionian Enchantment" -- the discovery that the disparate phenomena in the world can be explained as the product of a small number of fundamental factors interacting. When Peikoff talks about cognitive "integration", he's clearly talking about something very similar. Maslow describes "intellectual peak experiences" encountered by those who make fundamental discoveries, and many others who do original work describe, in different forms, the experience of mentally rearranging elements into harmonious wholes, of identifying patterns, of successfully forming *gestalts*. All of this indicates a deep link between truth-seeking and aesthetic experiences.

This is equally true for people (like me) who work in more tangible fields. The joy of building something new is more closely tied to the excitement of anticipating the effects the new creation will have in reality, but it also stems from the mental activity of invention and creativity: of taking a high-level objective, breaking it down into lower-level pieces, rearranging the pieces, understanding sub-problems and solving them, repeating the process at lower and higher levels, etc.

People gain many different values from their work. It's difficult to tell a priori whether or not a given person is doing their work for the "right" reasons, or if they're just struggling to express overpowering emotions. Anyway, this is why I tend to avoid certain philosophical groups these days, and just try to explore reality directly, myself, without intermediating commentary. The fundamental ideas (reason, reality, etc) are rock-solid; the debates around those ideas caused me endless confusion for years, until I checked out and went my own way.

#facebook #nature #maslow #gestalts #order #integration

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dailyreverie · 2 years

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"I’m seeing you doing something you love and the sheer joy you exhibit without even knowing it is so endearing and I can’t look away because you’re so in your element" with bucky

could the reader be excited about animal/science nerdy stuff...im studying to be a vet and nobody gets excited with me cuz its gross stuff sometimes 😭😭

- 😗

A/N: Hiii my lovely dear beautiful 😗 anon! Listen, searching for cat facts took longer than writing this because I have no knowledge of science and animal stuff lol so I hope this is accurate (this is also not scientific but it is kind of gross, maybe?). Also, the source I used for cat stuff is here.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (no pronouns). Alpine's here too.

Word count: 630

CW: I always try to make my blurbs with as less descriptions of the reader as possible, but this time reader has a few niche interests in animals so just have that in mind. Mentions of cat anatomy.

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It's all part of the routine by now: Bucky comes in, you check his shoulder and arm for any discomfort he may have, and off he goes to the next mission. He likes it, hell... he enjoys it to the point of your check-ups being the favorite part of every mission.

"How's my favorite Avenger doing?" Your chirpy greeting had become Bucky's favorite part of it by now.

"I'm doing alright, the arm's also-"

"You know damn well I'm not talking about you." The white ball of fur that sat on Bucky's shoulder almost jumped at you when your hands made their usual grabby motion, and Bucky didn't even try to hide the smile anymore.

They are very similar, Bucky and Alpine. You can't imagine a sceneario in which Alpine would jump to Sam's arms, or rub against Tony's chin, yet the little cat looks for you and takes comfort in between your hands as soon as he sees you; Bucky doesn't jump to you, of course, but when he sees his cat purr under you soft caresses he understands it, he knows the effect your hands have, soft and healing and warm and-

"Oh shit, Alpine!" He blinks away his frozen brain when he spots Alpine climbing over to your shoulder - rear to your face and tail in the air. "I don't know why he is doing this, I'm so sorry." He is rambling, pulling his cat over to him again even as the cat mewos in protest.

"Don't worry about it, Buck, really. I appreciate it even." You giggle, stretching your hand to pet the cat again.

"You... appreciate it?" Bucky's confussion is all over his face, looking at you with knotted eyebrows.

"Yeah, when cats put their rear end on your face and lift their tails, especially kittens, it means that your kitty is feeling confident and happy, it's their way of showing you they are ready to be friendly." You reply with a smile, as if you weren't talking about cat butts. Bucky doesn't interrupt, looking at the small smile on your face and feeling himself match it. "This is mostly because of when they were growing up, you know? Mom cats lick their baby's butt to stimulate them when they are figuring out how to defecate, so when a cat shows you their butt they are just asking for-" You stop suddenly, looking at Bucky for a second just to find him looking at you with wide eyes and a smile. "What are they asking for?" There's genuine curiosity in his voice, and he blames it entirely on the way your eyes lit up when you started giving your explanation.

"I'm sorry, that was... it was gross. You came here to get your arm checked, and I ended up talking about cats' butts." You shake your head, trying to get the thoughts of the last two mintues out.

"I want to hear though." Bucky admits "Alpine shows me his butt all the time and I had no idea why. How do you know all that stuff?"

"I wanted to be a vet before I became a doctor." Your shy smile has Bucky melting, but it is the pure excitement in your face what makes his heart leap out of his chest. "I learned a lot of animal stuff from reading veterinary books. Animal behaviour is so interesting! Most animals actually have developed a way to communicate with humans and- wow! Sorry! I'm rambling again."

"You don't have to apologize, I swear." He smiles kindly at you. Who knows what, or who, had made you feel bad for rambling about this passion of yours before, but he knew how being silenced felt like and he was definitely not going to do it to you. "I want to hear everything you have to say."

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Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky fic #bucky blurb #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #boyfriend bucky #soft bucky #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes blurb

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wincestisasincest · 2 years

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Waves on the Shore - Chapter 8: A Bilgewater Burial

Viktor x Fem!Reader slow burn enemies to lovers

x posted on ao3 // WOTS masterlist

Summary: Jayce and Viktor questioning you about your weapon (made with farm-fresh Hextech) is the only thing keeping you from going to jail for science crimes. You and Viktor are literally at each others throats lmao. Also you’re from Bilgewater because pirates are fucking rad

Notes: If the update's late and you know it clap your hands! For real, sorry about this one, I thought I could do it on time but I my taxes took longer than I thought and I accidentally made the last update the longest chapter known to man, so I decided that I wouldn't rush it and just do things a day late. Guess that's what I get for my hubris in thinking I could do double updates. ALSO HAPPY ONE MONTHIVERSARY to this fic proud of her eekjrthekrjhtker anyway enjoy this one I think you will like it <3

Word Count: 7.2k

Tags: @edenstarkk, @modernamilf, @dedicated2viktor, @doctorho, @yeehawbvby

Mentions of: Dismemberment (not metaphorical this time), death,

Triggers: Language, cops, corruption of said cops, burial/graves

“And you’re certain that the crew is clear to board?”

“Rum’s on, Professor.”

“I beg your pardon?” he sounded offended. Shit.

“Oh- sorry, it’s uh, in the Bilge it means, like, ‘I promise.’ It’s short for ‘the rum is on it,’ so like, if I’m wrong then I’ll have to buy you a drink,” you explained, “but, like, obviously it’s not literal. Heh.”

“I see,” he was fixated on you, unfazed, “well then, I look forward to seeing it in action.”

“Yeah,” you planted your hand on your hip, “the ship is a beauty, too. Couldn’t have picked a better one myself.”

You beamed at your surroundings. The frigate wasn’t huge, not even close to the biggest ship you’d ever seen, but it was invigorating, as though it was waiting its whole life to go into battle. The coats of paint were fresh and the deck was spotless. The sails, crisp and sun-filled white, billowed in the cold air like the fabric folds of a wedding dress. The bowsprit, just above a poised swan figurehead, sliced forward with the temerity of a lightning rod.

The red pulsing climbing up from the rafters only made it look more badass, like you had some Eldritch horror below deck waiting to eat your opponents alive. Perhaps you did, you joked to yourself, as Viktor was down there right now doing a systems check.

“I remember when she was built,” the Professor said earnestly, sharing your awe, “by a young man from Bilgewater, no less.”

“Really?” you glanced down to him.

“A student of mine, in fact. Came here to study nautical engineering. He designed this vessel as a gift to the city before he left.”

“What’s he doing now?”

“Unfortunately, he’s no longer with us,” the Professor folded his hands somberly, though his eyes stayed bright, “but he lived a good life. He invented what we now know as submarines.”

Your played over his words again in your head, just to confirm.

“No way,” your face tingled with excitement, “that’s insane! And he… he made this ship?”

The Professor nodded.

“That’s so awesome,” you grinned like an idiot, trying to contain your joy in the smile as to not dump it all on this poor man. You felt so simple next to him – he’d lived 300 years of emotion and wisdom and progress, and you were impressed by his fun party fact.

There was a veteran melancholy lurking behind his forgiving smile. How someone could spend their days watching incredible people come and go like the tide and still greet each new year as a friend, you would never understand.

“I can give you access to the library if you’re interested,” he offered.

“Ah – no thank you,” you instantly regretted it when his mustache twitched with disappointment, “no, it’s not- I appreciate the offer, I just can’t read.”

You chuckled awkwardly, trying to remember when you’d gotten so soft.

“You… can’t read?” he frowned.

“Heh…” you rubbed the back of your neck, no.”

“My apologies,” he stuttered politely, “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I just- well, I assumed that-“

“Really, it’s all right,” you faced your palms out, “happens all the time.”

“Then… perhaps you’ll forgive another question – have you had any formal education?”

“Uh… no?”

“Homeschooling?”

“No.”

“Apprenticeship?”

“Nope.”

“Then where did you learn all of,” he gestured vaguely at the lights below the deck, “that?!”

“Um… I dunno, a lot of it just… happened?” you said dumbly, “Like, okay, I learned about wave mechanics because there was this science guy who was stuck in the port once because his compass was broken so I told him I’d fix it if he gave me some of his charts and stuff. And then I fixed his compass and… yeah. Oh! I can do numbers and stuff too – you kinda have to so you don’t get screwed over in haggling – so math wasn’t hard to pick up on, and…”

You faltered, noticing your rambling and his bewildered stare.

“Young lady,” he clapped his hands together, tone pleading, “do you understand how… extraordinary that is?”

“Uh… well lots of people in Bilgewater can’t read and they live just fine, so it’s not that-“

“No, no, I mean that,” he paused, selecting his words carefully, “you have taught yourself everything you know, and you are able to keep up with the likes of Jayce and Viktor, who have dedicated their entire lives to studying this kind of thing.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘keep up,’ I just had some good ideas, is all.”

“Just a few days ago, you simulated a stabilization reaction.”

“Viktor helped,” you almost vomited after you said that.

You were abnormally self-conscious as he tried to… well, not compliment, but try to convince you of some greatness that wasn’t there. Still, this never happened back home – your praise for a job well done was money, and you liked it that way.

“Jayce tells me that it would not have happened without you,” he said, “it appears that you and Viktor make quite the team. And, as someone who has known him for many years, I can confidently say that it is no small feat, especially when you have not been afforded the same education as him.”

Ah, so now pretending to be a student and getting to stay because you impressed the guy in charge was ‘being afforded an education.’

You didn’t say anything, worried that you would make it worse. You just stood there as he pondered you, wishing that you could throw yourself into the sea.

“I will speak to the librarian regardless,” he dropped the subject, “perhaps you would find the maps interesting.”

“That… would be cool.”

The Professor waddled down the boarding plank and rejoined the chittering ball of white fluff on the docks. You kept forgetting to ask what that was.

Wiping your hands on your pants and stretching your arms behind your back, you resolved to join Viktor below deck before the crew began to board. The open sails reminded you how little time you had.

Viktor’s lean figure was ghoulish in the red glare. You thought that the warm color made the deck look cozy, actually, as there was usually nothing but the sunlight that came through the rafters.

The crystal was in its casing, cemented into one of the support beams with wiry arteries fanning out in every direction. The magic was beating from it like a heart. It was beautiful.

“No need. I just finished,” Viktor said when he heard you descend the stairs.

“I figured,” you approached the casing and touching it, feeling its gentle buzz in your fingers, “I guess I just wanted to see it again before they set sail.”

“What is with the sentimentality?” he put his cane-less hand in his pocket and raised an eyebrow at you.

“Up yours,” you said bitterly, pulling your hand back.

“It was a genuine question.”

You scanned his expression, and he made a point to look like an impatient customer in line at a store. The sharp lines of his face intensified in the red light, but you found no aggression. You didn’t find any curiosity either; just the same exhaustion in his sagging shoulders that you both couldn’t shrug off when you were around each other. Well, at least you knew that he wasn’t trying to start anything.

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “I mean, It’s not coming back with me, so it’s the last time I’ll ever see it, and I was just working on it every second for like, four days. Guess I wanted to say goodbye.”

“Ah,” he turned back towards the wave inverter, “that makes sense.”

“I’m sure it’ll be put to good use, though,” you patted the machine, “not that I’m fond of supporting Piltover’s navy, but any pirates who stole my design will get what’s coming to ‘em.”

“They will indeed,” Viktor nodded, “though wiring it to an entire city is more impressive than a single boat if you ask me.”

“I think anyone who had to smell us would beg to differ.”

“Then they can beg.”

A laugh bubbled out of your mouth before you could stop it. He sounded so maniacal, like a fairy tale villain, and the red backlighting didn’t help.

You approached the stairwell, satisfied with your work. He didn’t follow. You looked over your shoulder to find him standing, dead still, hypnotized by the eye like it was a siren’s call. And you were the sentimental one.

You were going to tell him to hurry his ass up, but, as a gift for the laugh, you opted for a simple “don’t take too long” as you ascended the stairs.

Later, perched on the ledge outside the lab’s window, the same one that you had jumped from the first night, you watched the ship go out to sea. Even though it was fully staffed, the boat looked very lonely.

*****

Viktor remembered Detective Foster. He was the one who had come to Hextech’s rescue by figuring out the fake crystals. He looked like shit.

Instead of the groomed gentleman that appeared in court, the detective was a spent dead man walking. He’d worked through the night, if the curst in his eyes and his patchy facial hair were anything to go by, and he greeted Viktor, Jayce, and you with bloodshot rings in his eyes that were definitely due to the coffee cup in his trembling hand.

The station door closed and he took a very long gulp.

“The two Bilgewater pirates escaped.”

Viktor was speechless, at both the improbability and the inconvenience. They’d spent the night here, and you three were supposed to question them in the afternoon once the wave inverter was installed on the new ship.

He didn’t remember much besides a vicious scar across the bottom lips on one of them and the hostile look that the other gave him. Hostile but aware, like they were old enemies, even though Viktor had never met either of them in his life.

“How?!” you said finally, barely holding back some expletives from the end of that question. Viktor could practically see the smoke coming out of the whirring gears in your head as you tried to process it, lips barely touching in a half-gape and eyes blinking with disorientation.

“We don’t know.”

The detective lead them down the hallway, not slowing down as Jayce and Viktor took in their surroundings. Viktor had never been in an Enforcer station before, and he expected it to look a lot less bureaucratic.

Only a few Enforcers were in full uniform – everyone else had business casual attire with a badge somewhere on their person. They looked like office workers as they speed walked between file towers, chatted over the water cooler, and followed him across the room with their eyes like it was the most exciting thing that had happened all day.

Even though two people escaped from prison.

The field of desks was already huge, and, with the additional stations around town and the squads of officers currently on patrol, Viktor was hit by the realization that there was a small army of Enforcers hiding in plain sight. Why did it take so many of them just to keep Piltover free from crime?”

Ah yes, Viktor remembered. It wasn’t just about protecting Piltover, it was about defending against the made-up threat of the Undercity.

Jayce’s eyes were shifting. He looked stunned, almost disgusted, and Viktor wondered how many Piltovians were aware of the city’s vigilant blue underbelly. Enforcers in public spaces were the illusion of security, while the real defense happened behind the scenes – stopping crimes before they happened and shutting down any Zaunites that got too confrontational. Perhaps hiding how many Enforcers there actually were was important to the illusion of safety as well.

Viktor spotted wild black hair and brown eyes through one of the doors in the hallway.

“Wait, wait a minute- why is he here?” he put a hand on Jayce’s shoulder and gestured towards the door with his cane.

“Alex?” Jayce said, a little too loudly.

Alex lifted his head up and sullenly flipped Jayce off. He was trapped in the small room, all by himself, for gods knows how long. His head drooped back into his hands.

“What? He’s supposed to be in the Municipal Building,” you crossed your arms and joined the hallway blockade. The detective sighed.

“Yeah, well, we figured with two criminals on the loose who possibly know of his involvement, it wasn’t safe for him anywhere else.”

“Of course it’s not fucking safe, but I don’t see how locking him in there like a prisoner is going to help,” you gestured rigidly with your open hand.

“We’ve got a lot on your plate right now, we’re getting the social worker to come in and see him,” the detective said calmly. You were not convinced.

“Does he know about the escape?”

“He does.”

“And you LEFT HIM TO HIMSELF?! He thinks his parents are gonna die now!”

From inside the door, Viktor saw Alex’s face scrunch up as he covered his eyes with his hands.

“And-“

“Penny!” Viktor interrupted sharply, “you’re upsetting him.”

You followed the tilt of his head towards the door.

“Shit,” you muttered, putting your fist under your nose.

“You two can continue without me,” Viktor said, reaching for the handle, “I will keep him company.”

Viktor agreed that he shouldn’t have been left alone, even if he didn’t want to be the one to remedy that. But, you and Jayce were needed out there to deal with the Enforcers, and Viktor considered himself partially qualified to talk to the kid. He had his own share of bad days growing up and knew that, most of the time, all kids needed was someone who’d listen.

He left no room for argument, even from the detective, as he delicately entered the room and shut the door. Eventually, he heard footsteps leaving the hallway.

It felt like he was in a broom closet. The beige walls were completely empty and a single pallid lightbulb hung from the ceiling. The metal chairs against the back wall were banged up but the table in the center had no signs of use. From the outside, the door looked similar to the other offices, so this must’ve been the one room that no one wanted. Perfect for Alex, and perfect for himself, he thought gloomily

“What happened to your leg?” Alex said bluntly. Viktor wasn’t sure if the tightness in his voice was anger or sadness, but either way it warned him to be careful.

“Nothing,” Viktor took a seat next the boy, “it’s always been like that.”

“Oh,” Alex sniffled, “my sister doesn’t have an arm.”

“Why’s that?”

“It got infected with gangrene and they had to cut it off. She has a hook for a hand now.”

“I’m sorry she had gangrene.”

“It’s okay. She likes the hook.”

Viktor nodded, tactfully looking away from the kid so he didn’t feel too much pressure to respond.

“What is her name?”

“Layla.”

“Older or younger?”

“Older. She’s 12.”

“I see,” Viktor paused, “do you miss her?”

“Fuck do you think?” Alex growled, lifting his legs onto his seat so he could hug them to his chest.

“Right. Apologies. Dumb question.”

Viktor was always envious of people who could hug their knees to their chest; his leg would give him too much trouble for it, but it looked like such a safe position. Back out like a turtle’s shell and heart safe between the warmth of your upper thighs. It was the closest that you could get to giving yourself a hug.

“What if I never see her again?” Alex said, curling into a ball and drowning out the rest of the world in womblike darkness.

Viktor wanted to tell him that he would see her again, but that would likely come back to bite him in the ass. This kid deserved better than promises that couldn’t be kept.

“What if she gets killed because they found out I snitched. What if she dies and it’s my fault?”

“Hey now, look at me, “ he tapped Alex’s knees with the handle of his cane, “please.”

“Fuck off!” his scream was muffled as he pressed his nose against his skin. His chest heaved.

“At least come up for air before you suffocate,” Viktor scolded gently, pulling a white handkerchief from his vest pocket.

After a few minutes of distressed sobs, Alex surfaced. His cheeks were wet, his nose was snotty, and it was all getting worse as he coughed through his tears. He grabbed the handkerchief and blew into it haughtily, giving Viktor side eye the whole time.

When Alex shoved the handkerchief back in Viktor’s direction, Viktor discretely curled his fingers around the smaller hand and looked kindly into his half-submerged eyes.

“None of this is your fault,” Viktor said, holding his attention, “How could you have known that things would turn out this way? You were trying to make the best decision – your family would understand.”

“No,” Alex shook his head and wiped free tear from his face, “they’d be so mad at me.”

“Perhaps, but all families get mad at each other sometimes. It doesn’t mean that they don’t love you. And it doesn’t mean that this is your fault.”

He gradually strengthened his grip, giving Alex enough time to tell him to stop or pull away if he wanted to, though he didn’t.

“Please, do not blame yourself for things that you cannot control.”

Viktor left to get him some water and permit him a minute alone.

Viktor was okay when he was in the same, but his own thoughts ran wild the minute the kid was out of sight. As he held his finger on the water cooler and waited for the cup to fill, he thought of his own childhood.

If Viktor were in Alex’s shoes, at a mere 10 years old, he would’ve been inconsolable. The first situation where he was in control, he had chosen to do the right thing and it backfired horribly. Viktor feared what could happen if he was not there to correct Alex’s first impression of choice. He wanted, no, he had to make the kid understand that it was too early to give up on hope.

When he returned with the water, Alex gulped it down like he had just hiked through a desert. It dribbled from his chin.

“You’re going to try and help my family, right?” Alex asked as he gasped for air.

“Of course,” Viktor said, “we were working on taking down this gang before you even got here.”

“Why? What’d they do to you?”

“They are misusing our technology. Those portals, for example, were designed by us, and we do not intend to let them stay in the hands of greedy pirates.”

“They steal from everyone,” Alex shrugged.

“If everyone did something about it, then perhaps they wouldn’t.”

“If they didn’t control who gets food, then maybe everyone would do something about it.”

“Fair point,” Viktor relented, “but do not underestimate the power of people working together. Especially if they are coming from the same place.”

“Oh yeah, like you and that angry girl,” Alex smiled, pleased with his own connection.

“Wh- you mean Penny?” Viktor chuckled, “She is rather angry, isn’t she? Though… I’m not sure if you want to follow her example.”

“Oh? And what example is that?” you said from the doorway.

Fuck.

“Because if you have a problem with poor people from Bilgewater who worked with pirates against their will, and are also super badass,” you added with a carefree wink to Alex, “then I think you’re in the wrong company.”

“I have no problem with such people, I was merely referring to your lack of ethics and refusal to take a stand for anything,” Viktor said defensively.

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, when are you not? C’mon, Jayce is waiting,” you waved him out the door and turned to Alex, “There’s a social worker here to meet you. She’s in the lobby. She’ll be with you soon.”

“Okay.”

“Chin up, Alex,” Viktor said from the hallway, leaning on his cane fondly.

“Yeah, stay safe kid,” you added, shutting the door.

You aggressively shoved your hands in your pockets and started down the hall, scoffing.

“First of all, the wave inverter worked and it kicked the fleet’s ass, so I’m going home. Thought you should know,” you refused to look at him, “Second, I’ll have you know that ‘my example’ is the reason why that kid’s still alive. The leading theory is that one of the Enforcers helped the gang members get out – Jayce and I agree here. The gang is paying some off. So, if I didn’t ‘take a stand’ for this kid to not get involved with Enforcers, then something would’ve happened to him during the breakout.”

You both rounded the corner.

“But you’re leaving?” Viktor said, unimpressed.

“Yes. As per the agreement that you already know about.”

“I’m aware. But you realize that this makes you look worse, right?” Viktor saw your brown crinkle in confusion, and continued, “You just said that you have essential knowledge to this child’s safety, and now you’re leaving him? When you’re the reason he’s in this mess in the first place?”

“I am not the reason that-“

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It is good that you intervened when you did. But now you refuse to finish what you started, and you are abandoning him even when you know that he needs you. It’s not ‘taking a stand’ if you’re only doing it when it’s convenient.”

“Ugh, I am not going to argue with again,” you said through gritted teeth, “I don’t fucking care about this kid!”

Your words rumbled through the valley of desks, and the office scene behind you froze. The Enforcers stared like sardines in a tin, dead-eyed and orderly, at your brazen revelation. When you noticed Viktor awkwardly shrinking underneath their scrutiny, you spun on your heel and stared right back at them.

“Don’t you guys have work to do?” you hissed.

They got the hint, and the menial business prattling resumed like nothing had happened. You brushed past Viktor into the lobby, aiming straight for officer.

Jayce wrapped an arm around Viktor’s shoulder and began speaking conspiratorially, but Viktor was hardly listening. He watched your lips move as you made idle conversation with Officer Brent (yes, he’d learned her name from all the times he heard you say it).

You were already separating yourself from them, preparing for the journey back to Bilgewater. He thought that this day would never come, and now that the moment was upon him he felt nothing. He was certain it wasn’t denial, as he was well acquainted with the anxious cocktail of self-delusion – it still felt like something. But Viktor’s mind was running off of empty, frustrated fumes that didn’t feel like anything.

They walked back to the lab, Jayce rambling the whole time about police procedure. When they entered, Viktor’s eyes immediately went to your section of the shelf. Your knife, which you had modified yourself over the last few days, was gone. You’d even cleaned up the tools you used this morning. Every sign that you ever existed was gone, like the universe was gaslighting him.

A breeze shivered down his spine. The window was open. You’d forgotten to shut it when you came back in from watching the ships.

Jayce drifted into the office while Viktor reached out, feeling the cold wind on his cheek reduce to an icy whisper as he locked the handle.

Gods, what was he even referring to when he mentioned “your example?” The insults were automatic, but negative thoughts about you weren’t. Not anymore. When someone mentioned you, he was forced to replay that godsdamned awestruck smile that you gave him after you’d both done the impossible. It started as a disbelieving laugh, and then you couldn’t stop that little wrinkle in your eyes as your cheeks filled with childish giddiness.

That smile, his brain decided, was the symbol of what you two could accomplish when you weren’t at each other’s throats.

“What’s on your mind?” Jayce said from behind him, finally noticing how spaced out his partner was.

“Penny is leaving,” Viktor said, “she made herself important and now she is leaving. It is rude.”

“Isn’t that what I said 4 days ago before you made her cry?”

As if Viktor didn’t think about that enough.

“No. You said something along the lines of it being a waste of potential for her to return to Bilgewater,” Viktor turned around, “what I am saying is that it will be impossible to see anything through without her here.”

“You mean like… her research or the case or…”

“Everything!” Viktor huffed, “I cannot understand it. Why would she want to leave? We are practically begging her to stay, things are better for her here, and she just… goes.”

“Did you want her to leave?” Jayce leaned against the table.

“I did, but… that was a result of my original mischaracterization of her.”

“Oh brother.”

“Don’t give me that. You know how protective I am of our work. And when someone so similar to us came along, believing all the things that we did, in the same field, but doing something so awful, it… it made me uncomfortable. Because what if we did that?”

“We wouldn’t.”

“I do not think it is that black and white. But anyway, this is irrelevant,” Viktor said, “The point is that, at the time, I had to convince myself that she was a vile person for my own peace of mind. But I was wrong. She’s not, eh, malicious, she’s just apathetic. Which is still bad, maybe worse, but I can work with apathy.”

“So…” Jayce drawled out the syllable, “you do want her to stay?”

“Of course I fucking want her to stay! Gods, have you seen the stuff she has given us in her time here?”

“I work here too-“

“Did you see what we did with the wave inverter?”

“I did, and-“

“And let’s not even talk about how quickly this pirate investigation is going to fall apart when she’s not here, and how dangerous it would be for the-“

“Viktor!” Jayce put his hands on his partner’s shoulders, trying to ground him, “Look, I’d rather she stay here too, but… she’s not satisfied with living here. And for someone like her, no amount of moralizing could change that.”

“Then we will make the living better! We will get the Academy to pay her, get the Enforcers to leave her alone, whatever, just-“ he removed Jayce’s hands, “Jayce, I want to keep having this kind of success. How could we claim that we are about improving lives if we are unwilling to make a few small changes to keep someone so valuable here?”

“Well, if you’re that committed,” Jayce exhaled, “then I’m in. But there’s probably one more thing you’re gonna have to change.”

*****

“1 collapsible socket wrench.”

You’d bought that thing when you’d first set out on your own, as a little gift to yourself. It was rusty then, but now, the brown completely swallowed the tool, erasing its original silvery gray color. You slid it across the table into your pile.

“8 sockets for aforementioned socket wrench.”

The Enforcer slowly counted them off to you as he returned them, and you were tempted to just tell him to keep the rest. You were going to get new tools when you went back anyway. Being in Piltover was a much-needed reminder just how far a good set of tools could get you.

“34 gold doubloons.”

And… you zoned out.

This wasn’t as fun as you thought it would be. You didn’t really believe in valuables – like currency, everything you owned was just passing through, and one day it wouldn’t belong to you anymore. You still wanted your stuff back, but you’d imagined that when you retrieved it that missing part of yourself would come back, and suddenly you’d be pumped to return to Bilgewater and start the rest of your life.

But no, your mind was stranded in some never-ending liminal state as this Enforcer counted your gold doubloons as slow as humanly possible.

“1 scarf, red.”

Finally, something worth keeping. You squished it in your hand – its silk was still soft after all these years, and its pattern of rolling clouds was just as enchanting.

You’d bartered for it with an Ionian trader, saying that you could fix the heating system on her boat to save her the cost of having to replace it. You were going to take money as your payment, but her display of handmade scarves caught your eye instead.

You’d used it to keep your hair in place ever since, only to be separated when the Enforcers ripped it from your hair as “evidence.” As if they didn’t already have enough stuff.

Did they take anything from Alex as evidence? He didn’t have the rucksack of essentials you remembered him bringing to the Town Hall. Were they going to bring it to the new housing for him? Had they confiscated it? Were they allowed to confiscate it? Could you sue?

“1, uh… flask?”

“Close enough.”

It was a wallet that you had made by slicing a metal flask in half and attaching it to cured leather. You carved grooves in the metal to attach fasters – you could snap it open and shut by putting the nail of your finger under one of them, sliding it along, and pressing the latch. The best anti-theft technique was, as always, beating the shit out of anyone who tried, but a little extra protection never hurt.

Could you find Alex’s parents back in Bilgewater? As if that would do anything besides put you in more danger. Piltover was supposedly contacting them anyway, and mail was faster than you, so it wouldn’t be necessary. No, you were done here.

“3 fishhooks.”

Sometimes, when you were really hungry, you would try your luck at the farthest end of White Wharf, where no gang had laid claim to the anchovies living there. You were not a cook, but you could make those little fish taste decent with just heat and whatever seasoning you had on hand, which was a skill all its own.

You didn’t have the excuse of hunger anymore, you realized. Here, you were well-fed, had a place to sleep, and medical care if you needed it. Your life was paid for by the state, and you got more freedom than any other criminal. Most people in Bilgewater would kill for that.

“1 roll of fishing line.”

You should be doing things with this. Months from now, when you would inevitably be assaulted with guilt from leaving Alex, disappointment from leaving your promise to the Undercity, and pure anger at yourself for leaving a chance to dismantle at a gang, you couldn’t tell yourself that you were “just trying to survive.” Because you were surviving just fine, but nothing about your ambitions had changed.

This whole Piltover excursion ended up being worth your time in the end, and you were leaving it for what? You were endangering Alex for what? Your own petty wants?

You thought about Iron Leg. Bastard that he was, he put everything on the line when he attacked Piltover, whether it was because he hated the city, wanted more money than he could ever use, or, as you’d begun to suspect, it had something to do with his daughter. One of the worst people that you could think of was doing a better job than you.

“1 piece of chalk.”

When you had nothing behind you, no past and no people, you actually did stand for nothing. But now, you had one foot in the future of so many people and a support system at your back. That was something, and whether you took it or leaving, you couldn’t say that anything you did meant nothing anymore.

You already knew that, but you thought that leaving everything behind for the allure of not having to think about yourself would, at most, maybe hurt you. You’d been too preoccupied with your own bullshit to think about anyone else.

“1 pocket knife.”

Your old knife was so lame. The one that you got from Iron Leg’s ship hung at your waist now. You’d attached hinges to it so it would open and close into a metal sheath, and you’d hidden the end of a screwdriver in the handle.

Gods, the one thing you were taking back from Piltover was still cooler than anything you’d owned before.

“1 canvas messenger bag,” the Enforcer dropped it with a sigh, “and that’s it.”

Spreading your arm across the table, you carelessly shoved everything into the bag with one fell swoop and swung it over your shoulder like it was any other day in Rat Town.

“Oh, wait, is this, uh… hat yours?”

“Yes,” you lied.

You figured Iron Leg owed it to you for bringing you to Piltover. You needed to think.

*****

Viktor stalked you from the cobblestone path, too fascinated with what you were doing to find it in himself to speak. You were on the edge of a lonely fishing dock near the end of one Piltover’s rivers, just before it flowed out to sea, occupied with some rope, a pirate hat, and an empty booze bottle. Your legs hung over the side above the water, and your feet were bare, despite it being the early days of Piltover’s winter.

“What are you doing?” he asked, revealing himself.

You lifted your head over your shoulder like a wild deer, before realizing that it was only him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” you said coolly, returning to your work.

“That didn’t answer the question,” the taps of Viktor’s cane echoed in the gap between the wood and the water as he approached, “though if you mean to ask how I found you, Heimerdinger directed me to the library, and you librarian informed me that you asked for directions to this very place after looking at Piltover’s map.”

“Why were you talking to Heimerdinger about me?” your voice was more serrated.

“In due time.”

You swayed the bottle in your hands to test its weight, listening for some elaboration that Viktor didn’t give you. You grunted.

“What I am doing,” you reluctantly broke the silence, “is a bastardization of a long-held custom in Bilgewater. There’s not a lot of land there, so we don’t bury our dead, we sink them. The bodies go to the ocean floor and we leave a buoy floating above as a grave marker. Usually, the families have to make the buoy, so those can get pretty interesting.”

“And you are having a funeral for… the bottle?” Viktor struggled to sit on the other side of the dock, hanging his legs over the side as you did.

“No,” you said, “I just don’t have a body. It’s for Iron Leg.”

He stared dumbly when you pointed the bottle at him, only to realize that it was an offer. He accepted, and jiggled its contents – the wedding ring, the sketch, some neatly rolled up pages of his journals, and a single gold doubloon.

Viktor frowned.

“Oh, don’t worry, I copied the sketch and the journal pages. Hell, they look better now without the blood and the water damage.”

“That’s not my concern,” he returned the bottle to you, “you are aware that… he was an asshole, yes?”

“Trust me, I know,” you chuckled mirthlessly, and Viktor cursed himself because of course you knew, you had fucking lived it, “But, I dunno, ever since I found out about his kid… I can’t help but think that all of this bullshit was because he was trying to, I dunno, help her or something. Don’t give me that look, you’re thinking it too.”

“Once again, not my concern. That doesn’t excuse anything he did.”

“I didn’t say it was an excuse, but he… the drawing, the attack, his death… he really loved her. And he never got to see her again,” you exhaled, wrapping the rope around the bottle, “I suppose it’s more of a memorial to what he could’ve been than what he was.”

You threaded the remaining rope through the pirate hat, plumed with a gaudy red and gold feather, pulling it tight so the hat would float to the surface while still attached to the bottle.

“When does your ship leave?” Viktor asked after a while.

“Tomorrow,” you said, pulling your legs up to the dock and resting the hat and bottle in your lap, “but if you or Jayce needed something, I might have time.”

“I don’t need anything – I just wanted to talk,” Viktor swallowed his pride; he could do this, he had to do this, “about your leaving Piltover.”

“Oh my gods, I get it, I’m a selfish cunt! Did you really come all the way here to say that again?” you huffed.

“No, I did not, though I will not disagree with your assessment.”

“Y’know, I’m not in the talking mood all of a sudden.”

“Please, just,” Viktor inhaled, summoning the last bit of patience he had left to stop himself from insulting you again, “I am not here to criticize you. I am here to extend an offer. Just… hear me out, and once I am finished, you will never have to hear from me again if you do not wish it.”

“That’s bold,” you said, leaning back on your hands, “I accept.”

Well done, Viktor, he thought to himself, now just don’t fuck it up.

“Jayce and I recognize that, eh, while you have been living better than prisoners, your working conditions have not been adequate. Should you stay, the Enforcers have agreed to put you on a probationary status. Provided that you maintain that, the Academy has agreed to pay you a stipend and grant you access to all campus facilities.”

Your jaw dropped.

“A stipend, that’s…”

“Money. Paid biweekly. To cover living expenses.”

“Right,” you nodded, still reeling from the offer, “continue.”

“You’d be given leeway to work on your own projects and effectively treated as an employee of Hextech, again provided that you maintain your probation. I don’t think I need to tell you that this is a very good offer.”

“You don’t,” you said, your tone accusatory as you regained your sense, “but I wasn’t born yesterday. What do you and Jayce get from all this, huh? Where is Jayce, anyway?”

“Jayce is at the lab, because I figured… that if you would not accept it from anyone else, then you would accept it from me.”

“I hate you.”

“Likewise. But…” he put one hand on the dock and leaned in a little bit closer to you, “even I can see that you returning to Bilgewater is a waste of potential, for both of us. Your intelligence and ideas are immensely beneficial to Hextech. Technologically speaking, what we’ve achieved is nothing short of revolutionary. The potential gang apprehension is a bonus. But Jayce and I cannot do this without you.”

You turned towards the river. Even though it flowed out to the sea, it was still narrow enough at this point that you could see the other side, carpeted with crunchy leaves and dying greenery. Viktor tried to be neutral when he spoke, but he would not undersell the importance of this, even if it had a chance to scare you off. He had one final thing up his sleeve.

“And, because of this…” he sighed, “I would like to address something else. The night that you met Alex… I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t mean what I said, but I was… unnecessarily cruel about it. We have been antagonizing each other since you got here, and it is partially my fault. So, for this… I apologize.”

You considered him, brows furrowed, the same way that you always did when trying to figure out if he was genuine. Viktor fought the urge to put on his impatient customer face for your sake. You both stayed like that for a long time.

“It’s okay,” you said finally, returning to the river and plopping your dejectedly plopping your chin in your hand, “I guess it is also partially my fault. And I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t mean what I said either, but, for what it’s worth, I’m, uh, sorry about the death wish and everything.”

You were easy to read, in regard to vulnerability, because it threatened you. You turned away, and that was how he knew that you meant it.

“It’s forgiven,” he said, turning towards the river as well, “and… in the interest of cooperation, the final addition to my offer is, eh, a truce, if you will. Between you and I.”

“You think we can play nice?”

“The bar is quite low.”

“Yeah,” your shoulders relaxed, “what… what happens if I say no?”

“Nothing, aside from the disappointment,” Viktor admitted, looking at you from the side, “but I urge you to consider this carefully. Besides ethical labor, there is a reason why Jayce and I have added these extra measures. You no longer need to worry about survival, your criminal record, or even our silly personal problems. We want you to focus on what you can do, and nothing else.”

You looked down at your lap, nervously twirling the rope with your fingers.

“You can always go back to Bilgewater,” Viktor continued, “but there are things happening here and now that you are a part of, and they will not wait. You have nothing to lose, so it comes down to who you want to be.”

He knew who you wanted to be, even if you didn’t. You liked to pretend that you didn’t have any wansts, but the determination that you had when you spoke about your inventions or why Piltover’s elite was ‘full of shit’ or what you could do to help Zaun was hard to fake. Even if you stopped before anything got too righteous for your comfort, you still wanted it.

He remembered your smile again, wondering if you were even aware of how much joy that invention brought you.

“It… is worth a try,” you conceded with a sigh.

Viktor exhaled with relief.

“That is good to hear.”

“Yeah,” you said, crestfallen but resolute, “guess I should go cancel my voyage.”

You pushed yourself to your feet and walked to the other side of the dock, standing above Viktor but not acknowledging him. You put the bottle in your dominant hand and swung it around a few times before pitching it into the ocean. The bottle bobbed along the surface for a moment before sinking.

The hat was dragged along with the waves, but by the time it was properly out to sea, you and Viktor were long gone from the docks.

~ End notes ~

End credits song (got a sea shanty for y'all): "Santiana" by The Longest Johns

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