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yestolerancepro · 1 year

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Tolerance Ability not In Ability A Producers Commentary Part 4 – Accessibility, Social Life and Relationships The Final Cut

Introduction

After 3 weeks re-blogging the first 3 chapters of Ability not Inability here is the missing fourth chapter sorry it took me so long to bring it to you. If you have read the prevous 3 chapters I hope this 4th chapter which completes the story has been well worth the wait .

Like Chapters 1 and 3 this one has had some extra material included

My commentary of Tolerance continues and we are looking at the part of the film that deals with accessibility, social life and relationships.

Deleted scene

The next deleted scene is unnumbered in the script, but it would have seen Robert go into a bank to get some money for Julie's birthday present. In the final film, we only see Robert struggling to get some money from nearby cash machines. You can read about banking issues when you have a disability in another blog which is coming soon called Breaking the Bank

Robert wheels into the bank and we immediately see he has a problem with the height of the counters; he has to reach up to put his cheque book in the trough; the counter woman looks at Robert as if he has done something wrong. An assistant taps him on the shoulder and Robert turns with a start:

ASSISTANT: Can I help you?

ROBERT: Why, what have I done wrong?

ASSISTANT: Nothing, but I thought you might like to conduct your business over there.

She points to a table where it is easy for Robert to see exactly what he is doing.

ROBERT: But I only want some money from my account.

ASSISTANT: I can sort it out, so you can see what you’re getting.

ROBERT: OK

The Shooting Schedule says that if the bank scene had gone ahead it would have been recorded on Wednesday 18th August

17 minutes 05 seconds Mrs Jones gets what she deserves as her car breaks down. If you look in the background, you see Jeremy Walker making a sly cameo as Julie’s taxi driver. Well deserved too, as it was Jeremy’s idea to make Tolerance in the first place.

17 minutes 29 seconds

Odeon Cinema sequence and the last of our film spoofs - this time to An Officer and a Gentleman. David remembers this scene vividly as he quotes it both in his introduction for Tolerance and in an interview he gave me later for the films publicity material.

I don’t know if you knew this but there was a bit of controversy on the making of the Tolerance film in hiring non disabled actors to play disabled roles if you remember we made all the cast and Crew for the duration of the shoot use a wheelchair 24/7 how did you find the experience?

I wasn’t aware of the controversy, but expressed my own reservations to Richard (the director) when we first talked about me playing the role. There’s a dream sequence in the film that required my character to walk, so ultimately I felt that was sufficient justification And David again mentioned the Officer and a Gentleman sequence for the introduction to The Tolerance film

‘I played Rob - a wheelchair user - even though I’m not a wheelchair user myself. At the heart of the film is a drive to see the person not the disability, so maybe it shouldn’t matter who plays the character - but it’s certainly worth thinking through.’

In fact, Rob needs to walk in the film (no spoilers!), and that was the principal driver behind using an actor who was not a wheelchair user.

You can judge for yourselves whether that decision was justified. Perhaps the producers would not make the same choice today. Perhaps the story would be re-shaped to enable the casting of actors with disabilities

Watching the film again recently Gemma Blagbourgh remembered that her and Helen Rees had to Iron David’s officer suit quite a few times to give the pristine look that you saw in the finished film the flowers that Rob gave his girlfriend Julie proved a abit of a problem too as Ben Brown remembers oh those flowers that came from one of the films sponsors who owned a flower shop called The flower basket and they were great looked really nice but they kept at my house as I recall over night and we had to water them quite a few times to stop the poor things from dying ha ha

Talking about Gemma she was the second member of Tolerance to appear in the film, Gemma appears as the cinema manager. I had the day off that day but the rest of the cast and crew had to get up at 5.30am to shoot the cinema scenes. Gemma said about her Tolerance experience afterwards:

‘Yes I really enjoyed the whole experience of working on Tolerance. The only thing I didn’t like were the early mornings; the earliest being half past five in the morning when I had to film my scenes. It was long hours, but I wanted to show people with a disability that you can work and you can work in positions of authority.’

Deleted scene

Scene 26: (Internal) Cinema Auditorium

The last scene left on the cutting room floor was a short scene that takes place after the montage where we see Robert get the job at the cinema.

I have a feeling that this scene was cut because it didn’t really add much to the overall film. Robert is making a reference to Rocky Balboa’s girlfriend, Adrian, played by Talia Shire in the film series.

If you want to learn more about the orignal Rocky film click here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nj-Kz02H2Yw&t=14s

Robert and Julie are sat at the very front of the auditorium and are straining to see the screen.

ROBERT punches the air: ADRIAN!!!!

JULIE looks across at him: Who’s Adrian?

ROBERT: Nothing, nobody, just thinking.

JULIE: Well think on this. If you get this job, you can devise a way we can sit in the middle of the cinema and see properly.

Julie laughs at him and grabs his hand.

So Robert gets the job at the cinema and we see a montage of shots of him enjoying his new role to the music of the The Professionals theme music. I like the scene but I would have used the classic Pearl and Dean Cinema Music.

21 minutes 41 seconds Ropewalk scenes. These were all shot on the last day of shooting, so if we all look the worst for wear, you know why. Quite a bit of footage from the Wrap Party was used to form the film end credits

Rob Martin took 3 photos of the last day Some other photos from that last day have recently been unearthed by Tolerance member, Helen Batty, and I have included a few in this blog. Thank you Helen for letting me share these.

*Party scene at the end. If you looking for me in that scene, you will have a job finding me. Blink and you miss me! In addition, there are also a couple of errors with people’s credits; Helen Rees, for example, is incorrectly credited as Helen Briggs.

It goes without saying that I would like to say thank you to all the members of the Tolerance cast and crew, and to all those companies that provided us with donations big and small that made up our £8000 budget.

** The introduction for the film was published on Tumblr website on 6 April, 2018 ahead of the films re-launch on the same day. https://yestolerancepro.tumblr.com/

The interviews for the publicity material will be published later in a blog called Memories from a movie set which also includes material not featured in this blog

If you have read this and want to help the Tolerance Project, please follow us on Facebook for up-dated information:or to give a donation please click on the above link to our gofundme page https://www.gofundme.com/gnk3ww

Photo captions

Picture 1 Paul Lockwood Soundman with Claire Abbot and David Smith Picture 2 Paul Lockwood Soundman 2 with Richard Hellawell Claire Abbot and David Smith

Wrap Party

Pictures 4 5 and 6 Charlotte Helen Batty and Micheal Weaver Claire Abbot Ropewalk Kevin Spencer Playing pool with Laura Brown Jonathan Lyndley and Richard Hellawell

Picture 7 Helen and Charlotte if you look carefully you can see the flowers used in the officer and a Gentleman spoof on the backseat of the bus this photo was orignally published as part of a Tolerance Project extra blog thanks to Helen Batty for the photo

Picture 8 of Talia Shire playing Adrian to Sylvester Stallone’s Rocky

Notes

Like part 3 of the making of blog Part 4 has had quite a bit of new material added to it the making of the Officer and a Gentleman spoof was originally detailed in a Tolerance Project extra piece which has been deleted from our Tumblr page so I have included that material in this new version of the blog as well an extra photo which also came from the Tolerance Extra blog

Scenes marked with a * are included in a short mini film produced by Ian Medley in 2020 to highlight some of the issues in the Tolerance film it was also made to try and get extra funding for the project You can read more about the mini film on the Tumblr Tolerance blog post Tolerance Mini film goes live

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sullustangin · 2 years

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Make This Work

A/N: This spun off from the Fluffy February Domestic prompt. It got too long, but it also gave off a different vibe than the other pieces. This... is somewhat fluffy. You’ll see.

Time: Again, that gap between Chapter 9 and 10 of KotFE.

Words: ~1300

CW: Coping with new disability; probable PTSD.

She was late again.

She’d never been late to business before carbonite.

Her mother would be so goddamn disappointed, almost as much as Eva already was.

But almost every morning… she moved like lead. Tasks were harder.

She hated this. She hated living like this.

Eva dropped the hairbrush in the sink so she wouldn’t throw it at the mirror. She flexed her hands, trying to will the right one into being something useful. It was like having a primitive prosthetic, one that was for the visual comfort of others rather than any function for her.

Eva closed her eyes and accepted what was inevitable (and probably had been since defrost). It had come to this.

“C2,” she called from her bedroom doorway.

An unfamiliar clank sounded in the War Room, and Theron snapped to alertness. He untensed slightly when he saw it was C2-N2, standing politely just outside of the elevator. Almost immediately, the tension returned. C2 knew better, and his place was not here.

And Eva hadn’t appeared yet. She was late.

Most of the other advisors joked about smugglers and timeliness.

They hadn’t known Eva before….

The later Eva was, the deeper the crease between Lana’s eyebrows became, when she was here.

Theron could never be late as operations manager, and he always had to approach the War Room from his quarters or from the mess. Their relationship was not for public consumption – from both a safety aspect and from a deep-seated desire to have each other to themselves.

Theron left his workstation. “What’s the problem?” he asked quietly.

C2 managed to produce a decent facsimile of a sigh. Eva had apparently tweaked his board again. “The Captain…has ordered me to go to the supply closet and retrieve one pair of clippers and a guard.”

Theron let that thought bounce around in his head for a few moments. “Well, it’s her hair. Why --?”

“Agent Shan, you know as well as I do that the Captain has never worn her hair so short.”

Theron let himself wear a pale smile; C2 and the rest of the crew had been fully aware that he’d vetted Eva prior to hiring her the first time for Korriban, all the way back to finding Nok Drayen’s treasure. And C2 was correct. “If she wanted my opinion, she’d –”

Theron had no idea what Eva had done to C2’s boards, but somehow, C2’s body language had been upgraded to convey the sentiment “Are you dense?”

He sighed. “…yeah, my opinion isn’t the point.” Theron looked over at the chrono. …she wasn’t trying to be late. It had never been a habit before. “She… is still adjusting.”

“I agree, Agent Shan. She needs time.” C2’s agreement was so quick and perfunctory –

It was the answer.

Theron gave the droid’s shoulder a pat as he left the War Room.

Eva paced in her quarters. She had changed into a tank top – something quick and easy to get out of and minimize the amount of hair she’d track into the War Room, when she finally left the damn ship. What was taking that droid so long?

Then the Thief’s door opened, and Eva anticipated the servos and rotors of C2 to come to her ears next.

Footsteps did instead. On instinct, Eva grabbed a blaster off her nightstand and stepped into the hallway.

Much to her horror, Theron appeared – and immediately he stopped, hands up. His expression was SIS-standard issue: flat and calm, no sudden movements ---

The blaster.

She immediately pivoted back around to deposit the blaster on the closest surface in her quarters with a clatter – she hadn’t even clicked the safety off.

Eva had never been so late. Now, the former paragon of professionalism had to retrieve her. She sucked in a breath and bit the inside of her cheeks. This was so damn embarrassing.

And disappointing. Yeah. She was doing a lot of that lately. Some Outlander, savior, whatever it was Lana wanted her to be – couldn’t even get to work by 0800. Couldn’t –

Couldn’t do a lot of things anymore.

By now, Theron stood just outside of the threshold of the door to her quarters. She could practically feel his warmth in the cool recycled air of the Thief.

Eva didn’t want to talk about it. Any of it. She didn’t want to hear about how it was ok (because it wasn’t) and that people understood (they didn’t – hell, she didn’t).

“So, I was thinking about restructuring the schedule.”

If he had said he was going to convince Aygo to streak through the military hangar with Dr. O and Sana-Rae, Eva probably would have given him the same incredulous look (Hylo would have done it for enough credits). Eva realized she was gaping at him by the time he’d moved past her into her room, cased the joint, and then went into the bathroom –

And fished the offending item out of the sink and grabbed a few other items she had stored there.

Eva swallowed.

Theron silently gestured for her to take the chair that served her desk/vanity. Once she was seated, he began to speak again. “I’ve noticed that minus Aygo, none of the advisors necessarily like working in typical military patterns and structures.” He maneuvered behind her. “Hylo isn’t a fan of formal briefings, and Dr. Oggurobb would rather stay in his lab. Sana-Rae doesn’t care either way, but she’s more at ease in the meditation areas.” And then she felt her brush carefully running through her hair. She couldn’t remember the last time -- Eva sighed at the motion. “I know you can handle military schedules, having worked with the Pub and the Empire before… but since we’re cutting our own path here… we can change the rules up. Make it better suit ourselves.”

The entire time he spoke, he kept a certain cadence, in sync with the motion of passing the brush through her thick hair. It was really, really relaxing. The tension that had been building – the emotional storm that had been brewing – dissipated.

Eva only knew he’d finished his speech when she felt the hair elastic and her ponytail drop gently against her neck. “You were a salon worker or lady’s attendant or something on a wacky mission for SIS.”

“Statute of limitations isn’t up yet,” Theron replied calmly. “I’m thinking that you’d meet Hylo for drinks toward the end of the day. Dr. Oggurobb for tea whenever –

“1600. Traditionally.”

“Yeah, sure. Sana-Rae earlier in the afternoon or around lunch – tea or water or whatever. Aygo could see you before the troops fall in during the morning. Keeps you on the move rather than sitting in an office all day. Keeps them where they need to be. Meetings are more social, relaxed, and hopefully candid.” Theron set the brush on the desk and let his hands go to Eva’s shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “You are seen everywhere on the base.”

She turned her head to look up at him. “And when do you suppose I get briefed by my operations manager?”

His clever mouth gave her a half smile, slightly cautious. “I was thinking early morning hours. You know, save time, save energy. I just make my way over here. Take care of ‘start-of-business’ matters.” The implication was clear to her. “Then you go to Aygo.”

Eva stood up, slowly. “And if the day’s business is particularly demanding?”

“Business lunch in the cantina. Or here, if necessary.”

“None of this should be necessary,” Eva whispered.

Theron’s professional veneer remained, mostly, but his olive-gold eyes showed true. “Captain, you’re mission critical for more than just Odessen.” Then he stepped closer to her. “And I did promise to make this work.”

A/N 2: The schedule first appeared in Next of Kin. At that time, I did have a vague idea of the original rationale, but I wasn’t ready to introduce it yet. Eva’s problems with her right hand do end up getting resolved after Chapter 12 of KotFE, but that’s still a good six months after defrost. That’s not an easy time for her, even with Theron around.

#swtor #swtor fan fiction #theron shan #theron shan x smuggler #c2-n2 #happy birthday eva #theron thursday #oc: eva corolastor

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erekiosuncreativeideas · 4 years

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The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 02

<= Chapter 1

Summary : Lukas meets some new people and discovers that almost no one is this studio has manners. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/57463666#workskin

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YOOOO NEW CHAPTER I had started it a while ago and left it to rot until I posted the first chapter. And... I ended up writing 90% of this chapter in less than 48 hours. My old self would be so, so impressed with my current productivity.

Also.... You cannot IMAGINE how eager I was to post this chapter, mainly because of one character I fell in love with. You'll probably guess who it is by the end of this chapter. The drawing is mine, like usual. Mike's (awesome) design belongs to @levshany.

If you like this story, don't hesitate to leave a comment or a kudo, it helps me so much !! I get so inspired and happy when I read your reaction, I'm so thankful for everyone reading my stories ! (after my 2 years long writing and art block, it feels absolutely wonderful)

Happy reading !!

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Chapter 2 - “Excuse me?”

Lukas’s family wasn’t exactly poor. His father worked in an office and his mother was a junior high school teacher, and both gained enough money to maintain the household and guarantee a higher education for Lukas. However, when the young man had announced to his parents his wish to study law in a famous university, uncertainty fell on his family. They could afford to send him to a less renowned university, though Lukas had always been a very good and serious student. The more his parents thought about it, the more they felt like they would waste their son’s potential if they refused him the future he wished for. Compromises had to be made and all the household began to think about ways to finance Lukas’s studies. Eventually, Lukas decided to take a part-time job in order to help his parents to deal with the financial situation he put them in.

Lukas was a perfectionist, even if that lead him to stay awake a few nights just to be absolutely ready for a usual test or a more important exam. Sleep was an issue for the young man: it was always in the way of his revising sessions! More often than not, he found himself falling asleep quite often during his less important lectures.

That’s why, at the present moment, Lukas couldn’t help but wonder if he was dreaming or truly awake.

All around him, people were moving very quickly, carrying extinguishers and buckets full of water. The young man didn’t have to think more as his arm was grabbed by an older stagehand, pulling him towards the huge fire in the centre of the room.

-“What are you waiting for? Use your goddamn extinguisher!” pushed the man while pointing to the flames. It seemed enough to pull Lukas back to reality and he obeyed. He joined the other stagehands trying to put the fire out and brandished his own extinguisher. He had to fiddle with it a little bit until he was able to disable the lock. Once it was done, he started spraying the flames with the extinguishing foam. The heat was almost unbearable and the proximity and movement of people around him made him even more nervous. A deafening fire alarm rang in the room, making his head hurt. He couldn’t believe that his first task as a stagehand would be to put a fire out! It wasn’t one of Lukas’s phobias, thank goodness, though it was still a very stressful experience to him. As if his student life wasn’t stressful already!

Fortunately, the flames soon disappeared under the foam, to Lukas’s great relief. He put the fire extinguisher on the ground, his arms sore for holding such a heavy object for so long. He was sweating a lot, both from the effort and from the heat. He dried his forehead with his sleeve, not caring if he was putting sweat on it. That was the least of his problems at the moment.

The student’s inner monologue was cut short as a voice was raised despite the commotion in the room:

-“Alright, people! Five-minute break, you deserved it!” The words came from an imposing dark-haired man, whose expression looked severe. He was wearing a beige shirt as well as black pants with braces. The man had a broad face, just like his shoulders.

Lukas let out another sigh of relief. No more than an hour had passed since his conversation with both of the directors and he was already glad to have a break‌. He couldn’t help but wonder if this job really was a good idea, after all… Yet, he pushed this idea out of his head: he needed the money, so until he found a better job, he would have to deal with this one. This was only temporary.

The man from before waved at him, asking him to come closer. The student was a little surprised but supposed that this person was the one in charge of all the stagehands. Lukas hadn’t been properly introduced to any of his superiors or to his job at all, in the end. It made sense that it would only happen after the huge fire. The young man obeyed and approached the other, trying to avoid bumping into the other stagehands walking all around him. He would never get used to crowded places.

-“Hell-”

Lukas didn’t get the time to introduce himself as his first word was cut short by his interlocutor:

-“Yeah, good morning,” said the man, not even looking at Lukas, his eyes scanning a document he had in his hands instead: “You’re a new stagehand, aren’t you?”

The student was frustrated at the manager’s lack of manners but decided to put his pride aside. This was only his first working day, nothing was going to be perfect, obviously. He extended his hand, forcing a polite smile on his face as he tried to answer:

-“Yes, my-”

-“Your name?” demanded the man, cutting him short once again.

Lukas could feel his annoyance start to appear on his face, though he did his best to hide it nonetheless. He certainly didn’t want to lose his job after all the trouble he went through to get it! He took a deep breath and replied, with the calmest tone he could manage:

-“I’m Lukas, Lukas Pryce.”

He didn’t see the need of saying anything else, as his interlocutor was likely going to stop him in the middle of a sentence. He took his hand back, well aware that the man wasn’t going to shake it. It apparently was the right thing to do, since said man finally looked up from his document to stare at him, examining him from top to bottom. The student didn’t like being scrutinized this way, though he did his best to stay silent and unmoving, waiting for the other man to talk again.

-“Yeah, okay. I’m Kaleb, I’m the one in charge of everything that’s happening in the backstage. I’m also your boss, but I guess you pretty much figured that out.”

Lukas only nodded, not wanting to be interrupted again. The manager rummaged through the papers he was holding and handed one of them to the student, who examined the first sentences written on it. It was a job contract.

-“You were hired on the spot, weren’t you?” questioned the man, though his tone showed it wasn’t really a question. Maybe it happened a lot more than Lukas first thought.

-“Yeah,” he replied while reading the paper he had now in his hands.

-“Well, okay, so… Technically, you’re not hired yet, so go fill that while the others and I clean this mess. Once you’re done, come back and give me your contract. Then I’ll give you some things to do until we figure out what particular position you’re going to get. Got it?”

Lukas nodded again and walked away. He spotted a white and blue folding table and chairs in a corner of the room, probably for staff breaks. Most of the seats were occupied, though some of them were still free. Thus, the student joined the seated members of the studio and put the paper down. He took a pen from his shoulder bag and started filling the document. Well, finally a calm activity! At least, minus the hubbub all around him.

However, as he was about to fill one of the last section, someone nudged him with their elbow. Surprised from the sudden contact, Lukas lifted his head, looking for the person who tried to catch his attention. His eyes fell on a young man who seemed to have the same age as him. He had black and white hair and was wearing a red turtleneck, as well as black glasses. He had a kind expression on his face. Was he a stagehand just like him? He didn’t seem to help the others, so probably not. Maybe an actor, then? His face was familiar to the student, so it could be the case.

-“You’re a new stagehand?” asked the mystery person, smiling warmly at him. Lukas couldn’t help but feel reassured at the nice expression: finally something good in this unbelievable day!

Lukas smiled back and pointed to the form he was filling:

-“Yep. Just got hired an hour ago,” he laughed, thinking back at the improbable interaction with the two movie directors. Lukas then extended his hands, not wanting to be impolite just like his new manager: “I’m Lukas.”

His interlocutor took his hand -finally, someone who had manners!- and shook it, still smiling.

-“I’m Mike. I’m the lead designer for puppets and costumes. Well, more puppets than costume these last few days…”

The mention of puppets caught the student’s attention. So, he wasn’t an actor, then. So, that still didn’t explain why his face seemed so familiar to Lukas. Why did he feel like he had seen this person somewhere before?

-“Puppets?” he repeated, amused.

-“Yeah. The team I’m in is working on a kids’ TV show, featuring puppets and stuff,” explained Mike: “But it’s only the beginning for now, they’re still looking for actors for the main cast.”

-“I had no idea this studio was making kids’ shows,” replied Lukas, amazed: “I only heard of it through the Conductor’s and DJ Grooves’s movies.”

The puppet maker laughed at his enthusiasm and shook his head:

-“Actually, that’s a first. You know how they have a hard time working together, right?” Lukas nodded and Mike continued his explanations: “Well, this time, instead of fighting over the direction, they’re trying to see if they can each focus on different aspects of the projects. The Conductor will lead the action scenes while DJ‌ Grooves will write and compose most of the songs and soundtrack. I mean, it’s already supposed to be the case usually, but they can’t help but focus on the other’s job anyway. This show is another chance of them minding their own part of the work and see how it turns out.”

The student rose his brows, surprised. Well, from what he knew about the subject, each one of their collaborations ended up having direction problems. It was quite a shame since they always had very good ideas, at least, probably before one sabotaged the other’s work.

-“Why a kids’ show, though?” questioned Lukas with a voice full of curiosity.

-“I guess it’s just a precaution process. Better to fail on a kids’ show rather than on an eagerly-awaited blockbuster, isn’t it?” supposed the costume designer.

-“Yeah, you’re right, it makes sense.”

The student looked around him, watching the stagehands cleaning the remains of the scene. He had no idea what they had been filming, but most of the props had been destroyed in the incident. They likely lost any footage in the fire which certainly wasn’t going to improve the tensions in the studio. The young man turned back to his new friend and finally asked the question he was scared to voice:

-“Uh, is it… Always like that?” he wondered, gesturing to all the people working behind them, wincing at the idea of having to deal with such problems on a daily basis. Mike laughed and gave him a sympathetic smile before replying:

-“Pretty much, yeah, sorry.”

Lukas felt the usual pain in his stomach appear from the sudden rise of stress. Not only did he have serious and important studies to deal with, but he would also need to do the same in his free time? Now, working here didn’t seem like such a good idea after all… His nervousness must have been quite visible because the other man put a hand on his shoulder to try to reassure him:

-“Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay, it’s not so bad!”

“Yeah, right,” thought Lukas sarcastically, probably showing a bit of this emotion unconsciously.

The costume designer stared into space as if he was trying to find something to say before lifting his head again, smiling at him widely:

-“Hey, wait, maybe you could work with us!” offered Mike, suddenly very inspired and motivated: “We haven’t started filming yet but we’ll definitely need stagehands soon! Plus, it’ll probably be way less wild than working on the Conductor’s action movies or DJ Grooves’s musicals. Not that I’ll have a lot to say in the matter, but I can still recommend you.”

Lukas opened his eyes wide at the suggestion. Wait, could it really be that easy?

-“You… You’d do that? Really‌?” The young man couldn’t believe it: how lucky was he being today? It was too good to be true! Karma was soon going to collect his debt at this pace…

-“Yeah!” exclaimed Mike, almost happier than Lukas himself: “You seem nice, plus you don’t have a lot of experience. It would be better for you to start working in a smaller and calmer team.”

Lukas was about to thank him for the offer when he was interrupted -again- by a loud noise coming from behind his back. The student turned around, curious about what could have caused such a loud sound. He was surprised to see a man entering the room, having slammed the door as an entrance. His hair was black and white and he was wearing a long green coat as well as black pants. The man was wearing converse shoes and round glasses. However, Lukas’s eyes widened not because of the man’s appearance or entrance but because he knew who it was. This guy was a very famous actor, one that Lukas knew very well because he had seen him in several movies by now. MJ, that was his acting name. Just like The Conductor, MJ had done his best to keep his real name a secret, for reasons most people didn’t know yet.

And suddenly, Lukas understood why Mike’s face had seemed so familiar to him: they both had the exact same face!

The student turned back to his friend with a confused expression. There was no doubt about it, he hadn’t imagined it: apart from their haircut and clothes, they looked absolutely the same. Lukas was about to ask about it but Mike forestalled his question:

-“Yeah, we’re twins,” he explained, though it was possible to see some weariness on his face. This was surely not the first time someone had asked about it. The student felt a little guilty, though it was a bit too late for that.

-“I had no idea MJ had a brother, let alone a twin,” admitted the young man, quite embarrassed.

-“We agreed to keep it a secret. I'm not a fan of the celebrity life like my brother is. I feel ill-at-ease in crowded spaces.”

Lukas rose his eyebrows, taken aback, and threw a glance at their surroundings. Welp, apparently, they didn’t have the same definition of “crowded spaces”, if all of this wasn’t bothering him. Maybe Lukas was just shier than most introverts? It was strange because he didn’t think he was much of an introvert until now. Yeah, sure, he spent a lot of time studying in his room, but it wasn’t because he didn’t like people or anything. Or so he thought. Now that he was actually in a place like this, he wasn’t so sure of it now. It did make him uncomfortable‌.

Even more, now that he knew that there were famous actors near him.

-“Hey,” greeted a voice behind him, very similar to Mike’s one. Lukas turned to the origin of the said voice and felt his heart sink in his chest when he realized that MJ had come to them. Fortunately, the actor wasn’t looking at him but at his brother. Lukas didn’t know how he would have reacted otherwise. He knew celebrities were people like everyone else, yet he couldn’t deny the sensation of stress he had at the idea of meeting one.

-“Hey,” replied Mike, with a softer tone, smiling at his twin. If they looked the same, their attitude seemed to be different. From the way MJ stood and dressed, he looked like a very assertive extrovert. Mike, on the contrary, seemed to be the complete opposite: with his red turtleneck and his very straight posture, he was the perfect image of the introvert concept.

It was like two sides of a coin: both looked like the other, yet they were not the same on many aspects.

MJ noticed the student’s stare and glanced down at him, absolutely unimpressed.

-“And who are you again?”

The actor’s tone was everything but nice or curious. The other sounded like he just asked that question because Lukas was in the way. No need to say that the young man’s frustration grew again: apparently, people had some problems with manners here. He still put his pride aside, deciding that replying to the provocative introduction wasn’t worth it. Instead, he extended his hand for what seemed like the tenth time that day:

-“My name’s Lukas,” he answered in the nicest way he could manage, then decided to be polite, for both of them at least: “I really like your movies, they’re amazing!”

His interlocutor smiled back while, in the corner of his vision, Mike looked away in embarrassment. What for? Lukas’s confusion intensified as he heard MJ’s answer:

-“Why, thank you!” replied the other, though it sounded too exaggerated to feel sincere. The latter didn’t shake his hand back either. Then, he looked above Lukas’s shoulder to read his soon-to-be-filled job contract: “Oh, are you a new stagehand?”

The question was asked in a particular way that made the student ill-at-ease. He couldn’t help but suspect the other’s niceness was completely faked. Though, he tried not to think about it and continued the conversation:

-“Yeah, I got hired a bit earlier. I helped to put out the fire.”

MJ looked around him as if he was only noticing the remains of the incident just now. His face immediately changed from cordiality to utter disgust. The sudden change unsettled the student, who didn’t know how to react. Next to them, Mike looked even more ill-at-ease than before. Why, did they have a bad relationship? Lukas couldn’t help but wonder, until MJ spoke again, making him come back to reality:

-“Okay, so this is all very interesting but-”

-“MJ, please don’t,” warned Mike, now frowning at him. Lukas had the impression that he was in the middle of a battlefield. This was extremely uncomfortable for him, who had no idea what to do with himself in the meantime.

-“What, I’m just socializing, as you told me to! Isn’t it what you want?” nagged the celebrity mischievously. Mike only glared in response. Well, this was officially more than awkward.

-“So, as I was saying…” continued the actor innocently, as if nothing just happened: “I need a coffee, two sugar lumps, no milk, and take it to my dressing room. And quick. Thanks!”

Lukas stared at the other with bewilderment.

“What?” The student was just astounded and didn’t know how to react at first. Did he hear that right?

MJ waved hypocritically at him, his true personality finally exposed. That’s why everything coming from his mouth had seemed so insincere! Just as he was about to turn away to leave, Lukas stopped him, full of mixed emotions such as confusion, surprise, but mostly irritation:

-“Uh, excuse me?” retorted the young man, absolutely offended.

MJ faked not hearing him, leaving the student and his bottled emotions seated at the table. Who did that guy take himself for?

Next to him, Mike sighed, rolling his eyes. He shook his head at Lukas in a tired way:

-“Don’t mind him, he’s like that with everyone. Except me I guess. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the coffee.” The other stood up and gestured to the forgotten paper on the table: “you should complete that and give it back to Kaleb. I’ll speak to him as soon as I can. For now, just do as he says.”

Lukas agreed, still astonished by the interaction he just had with this so-called actor. Welp, guess he knew who was the evil twin between the two, now.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Welp. Guess who ABSOLUTELY LOVED writing MJ ? You can read more about him here (warning : SPOILERS)

Chapter 3 =>

#A Hat In Time #ahit #Snatcher #moonjumper #MJ #Mike #fanfiction #my art #The Part-Time Puppeteer #TPTP #puppet au #lukas

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 4 years

Text

Birthday prompt #6

Read on Ao3 Birthday prompts masterlist

@phenixy-dunnhart

[Sinon, j'adore l'amitié juste excellent entre Rios et Raffi, si tu veux une variation (Cris qui se sacrifie pour protéger Raffi) -> Cris getting hurt protecting Raffi]

Some time after leaving Coppelius to gallivant around the cosmos with their motley crew, Raffi collapsed in the ops seat next to Seven and Cris and loudly announced that they had to go out for drinks, and not replicated ones. They had to find a suitably shady Space Station, go out, find a bar, and get absolutely smashed.

“We’re tired, we have time on our hands, and your replicators can’t get Romulan ale right for some reason,” she told Cris as an explanation.

(It was true, he’d messed that up the one time he had drunkenly tried to disable the Hospitality Hologram’s ability to talk.)

The dark circles under her eyes alone would have convinced him anyway. The last week had been tiring. They had spent it avoiding uncharted asteroid belts that really had no business being so large (seriously, what the hell), fixing navigation issues that Enoch swore had nothing to do with the corrupted 23rd century holos he’d helped Soji illegally download for Elnor, and chasing around the four neutered tribble-rabbit hybrids the kids had smuggled aboard.

“Why just the three of us?” Seven asked with a raised eyebrow, legs propped up on the console and disinclined to move, even for drinks.

Raffi snorted.

“Well I wasn’t going to invite JL, obviously.”

That got Seven and Cris to roll their eyes in concert. Yeah, obviously. Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, retired, was too posh and too old to have any concept of fun – or, more specifically, to be able to understand the appeal of marinating your liver in real alcohol and crawl your way back to your quarters to pass out for a day straight.

“But what about Agnes and the kids?” Cris inquired, gracelessly sprawled on the Captain’s seat with a cigar in one hand and a book in another, feeling just as lazy as Seven.

“I asked, she offered to babysit,” Raffi replied. “I don’t want to be responsible for Elnor and Soji’s first hangover.”

“Not to mention that we’d have to keep an eye out for them,” Seven agreed with a nod. “Fair enough. Let’s go to DS 11.”

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Whoever had deemed synthehol an adequate substitute to good old ethanol was a complete fool with appalling taste. That was Raffi’s professional opinion, and she told Cris and Seven just that as she finished her third glass of that vibrant blue liquor that made green sparks when you shook it.

(What was it again? A Bajoran jungle beer?)

Cris snorted in his own glass, full of plain Earth liquor. Seven smirked as she gulped her cocktail down, an unholy mix that was part Klingon mead, part Romulan ale and part cranberry juice. The stuff of nightmares, honestly.

“I get drunk faster on synthehol,” Seven commented idly. “Don’t produce enough of the enzyme that breaks it down into smaller molecules. Hate the taste, though.”

“Yeah, because taste is clearly of capital importance to you,” Cris snorted again. “What’s in your glass right now? That’s toxic waste, that’s not a beverage.”

“Pssht,” she slurred. “First time I got drunk, it was after one flute of champagne. Forgive me for having learned to handle my drink.”

Raffi hazily smiled at her and got herself another drink, letting her head fall on Cris’ shoulder as she leaned against him for balance. She didn’t think she could sit up straight on her own anymore. Seven studied her intently, blinking in surprise when Cris showed no sign of discomfort and even shifted his posture so she’d be more comfortable. Noticing Seven’s stare, he gave her a wry look but made no complaint about his demotion to human pillow.

Seven was getting a bit intoxicated, so she watched them for a few more seconds and returned to her drink.

“You guys are cute,” she chuckled.

“Hmm,” Raffi mumbled in turn. “Cris is very sweet. Very very sweet. He’s the best.”

Rios was silently laughing, still nursing his aguardiente. “She gets sentimental,” he mouthed without making any actual sound, a smile in his normally dark eyes. Seven smiled too, because she was getting quite intoxicated. And also, they were very cute.

“Hey, how’d you two meet?”

The question had been on her mind for a while now, but aboard la Sirena, you didn’t ask about anyone’s past. They volunteered finite amounts of information, and you had to be content with that. But Cristóbal and Raffi had always felt like kindred spirits, despite knowing them for such a short time, far more than any of the others. Picard was an xB like her, sure, and he was also a damn idealist with a Messiah complex who understood very little about her. Soji had trouble with her humanity, yes, but she was also a kid and a synth, and she had siblings, and she was ultimately nothing like Seven. Agnes was tiny and mousy and probably no good in a fistfight, with just enough teeth to not get eaten, and eyes full of stars and a bleeding heart that hadn’t learned to put on a shell. Elnor was young and innocent and very dangerous, reminding her of the ‘Annika of old,’ someone long dead and buried.

But Raffi and Rios…

They were older, they were more jaded, they were disillusioned with a fleet, a Federation and a galaxy that had completely screwed them over – and they coped with it by helping, by drinking like idiots and smoking nasty stuff, and helping some more. They were both broken and aware of it, not like the shiny kids, and they never offered empty words of comfort or grand and hollow speeches about hope and love.

(And they were badass.)

(Like her.)

(Seven was getting very intoxicated.)

So she watched Raffi drunkenly lean on Rios and she asked, because while their friendship seemed self-evident, she wanted to know how they’d found each other. How it was that they each made the other a better person instead of dragging each other down. It tugged at her own soul, brought about some memories of Icheb, and Voyager, and of the Rangers before Bjayzl.

It made her smile.

Rios and Raffi exchanged puzzled glances. They were both too drunk to delve into her reasons for asking the question, and Raffi just pursed her lips, assuming that it came from finding their interactions cute.

“Don’t think I remember,” she told Seven blearily, still nestled against Cris. “It was a while ago. S- six? Seven? Six or seven years?”

“Eight,” Cris corrected. “I don’t really remember either. We must have met in a bar.”

Seven frowned, dimly disappointed. The feeling was too fuzzy to dwell on, but she still sniffed sadly.

“You don’t remember?” She asked mournfully. “I’d remember meeting my best friend.”

“We don’t,” Cris said, carefully shrugging the one shoulder that wasn’t supporting half of Raffi’s weight. “She hired me for a job or two, I think. Then we were mostly drinking buddies. It wasn’t spectacular or anything.”

“But something must have happened,” Seven pressed.

People didn’t just casually adopt each other. (Didn’t they? She wasn’t sure. She’d kind of casually adopted them, when she thought about it. Were giant galactic conspiracies, reclaimed broken Borg cubes and synthetic apocalypses casual? Seven was completely intoxicated.)

“Oh yeah,” Raffi mumbled. “Saved my life one time.”

“We were already friends though,” Cris elaborated, adding to Seven’s ever growing list of questions. “Got upgraded to honey and babe after that.”

“An’ you called me hermana,” Raffi sighed contently.

Seven looked back and forth between them.

“Okay, you have to tell me that story.”

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“Raf,” Cris complained as she ordered her eighth drink of the night, “slow down on the drinks. You said you wouldn’t need to spend the night on my ship.”

“Piss off,” Raffi grumbled. “Don’t need your stupid ship. Don’t need your stupid hovering.”

Cris, because he was wise, never argued with Raffi. He didn’t try this time either. Muttering Spanish profanities under his breath, he got up and paced a bit, before throwing a credit chip at the bartender.

“If she spends it all, the rest is on her,” he told the Andorian.

The guy gave a noncommittal grunt, and Cris made his way to the exit. He was two steps from the door when he head a crash, the sound of a glass being smashed to the ground. He whirled around out of instinct, his hand going for his phaser. His eyes widened as he realized where the sound had come from.

Raffi was staring down at a Nausicaan twice her size (how?), the guy who’d been sprawled on of one of the corner sofas with his buddies up until a few moments ago. She was snapping at him – about what, Cris didn’t know, didn’t care – and the man looked ready to turn her into Raffi juice.

Cris ran to them without a second’s hesitation, heart seizing painfully as frozen sludge trudged through his veins instead of blood. There were ice spikes in his throat too.

“Hey,” he yelled, getting the Nausicaan’s attention, but not Raf’s, “hey! What’s going on here?”

“Get lost,” the man growled.

“No no no,” Cris refused, words tumbling out without him even knowing whether he was speaking Standard or Spanish. “Not doing that.”

“She you friend?” The Nausicaan asked as two of his own buddies slowly got up and walked to them, ready for a fight.

Raffi finally registered that Cris had come back and blinked in surprise.

“Yeah,” Cris gritted out, looking straight into the man’s eyes. “Yeah, she’s my friend. What’s the problem?”

“She needs to learn some manners.”

“Old news,” Cris muttered under his breath, but his gaze hardened and his hand went for his phaser again. “It’s fine, we’re leaving.”

“No, you’re not,” the second Nausicaan snorted, and the third one crossed his arms and smiled with that messed-up mouth of his.

“Your friend here should apologize to ours,” he leered. “And considering how rude she was, it’d better be a nice apology.”

“I’m not kissing his freak face,” Raffi spluttered. “I already told him!”

Cris would have facepalmed, except there really wasn’t time. Grabbing Raffi by the arm, he threw her behind him and pointed his phaser at the first Nausicaan.

“It’s not on stun,” he warned.

The man snorted derisively.

“I don’t much care,” he said, tapping a finger to his thick skin and metal plated clothing. And then he cracked his knuckles. “If you want to leave, you’ll have to make me allow it.”

Cris considered the mountain of muscles, the two goons behind it and the drunk Raffi behind him.

“Yeah, fuck that,” he muttered.

Whipping around, he snatched Raffi, threw her bony frame on his shoulder despite her vehement protests, and dashed for the exit. The Nausicaans were slower to react, but Cris’ superior speed wasn’t much of an advantage in a crowded bar where nobody cared enough to pay attention to the fight or help in any way. They had almost caught up with his by the time he reached the entrance.

So naturally, Cris did the only reasonable thing he could think of. He tossed Raffi out of the bar – the bar that was shielded against transporters for security reasons, like most of the buildings in the planet’s capital city – and barked an order into his communicator for Ian. The holo had been online dealing with an issue in the antimatter ignition chamber. As luck would have it, he hadn’t powered off yet, and Cris was gratified to see Raffi dissolve away.

And then he was pulled back and forced to turned around, and he was met with three very angry Nausicaans and the naked blades of their sword-sized daggers.

“Mierda,” Cris sighed.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” one of the men growled, and Cris had no idea if he was the first, the second or the third Nausicaan, because they all looked so damn alike. “You’re toast.”

Two of them had his arm in a duranium grip, making any escape attempt impossible.

“I told you, she’s my friend,” he said with defiant glare. “Go ahead.”

He didn’t care. They could drag it out, make it painful, make it frightening, but at the end of the day death was just the one comfort he’d been desperately awaiting for over a year now. He wouldn’t dream anymore if they pummeled him to death, and that was quite a reward for saving the life of his only friend.

(Maybe she’s miss him though. He didn’t think so. He hoped not. Raffi was too messed up on her own to add him to it.)

(Would she care? Please, let her not care.)

(He’d cared.)

(He’d cared that he had P— that he had somebody’s death on his head.)

(Please let Raffi not care.)

(She would care.)

Mierda, I can’t die.

The first kick slammed the air out of his lungs, snapping two of his ribs like twigs under a standard issue boot. It felt like he’d blacked out, but he couldn’t have – he hadn’t seen any bloody bulkheads.

The second kick caught him in the stomach and made him retch.

The third kick never came, because the transporter beam got him first. It took just long enough spiriting him away for one of the Nausicaan to throw one of his daggers though, leaving a bloody slash across Cris’ shoulder.

Cris materialized on la Sirena’s transporter pad, hurt and very confused, and was greeted by Raffi’s panicked face.

“Cris!” She yelped, falling to her knees next to him. “Are you alright?”

He groaned and tried to sit up, but his ribs wouldn’t allow so much moving around.

“Activate EMH,” he sighed.

It really fucking hurt.

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“You didn’t say when you called her hermana,” Seven pointed out as Cris finished his slightly slurred tale. “Or when she called you honey.”

Raffi was half-asleep by that point, but she still somehow managed to retain enough coherence to mumble an answer. Cris heard it, and smiled at Seven.

“It was after. She was so upset over the whole thing that we both slept in her quarters. She got very fussy. Didn’t ever stop fussing after that.”

“And you called her hermana,” Seven insisted, because it was the best part.

“I was too tired to remember other words,” Cris said, sounding amused. “I think I was trying to say friend, or something like that. Y’know, to explain why I’d done it. But my Standard was all messed up.”

“You ever found out if she was the one who started the fight or if it was the horny Nausicaan?” Seven asked.

“Never,” he replied, finishing his last drink. “She couldn’t remember. I did bump into the same guy once after that. Used three phasers to stun his ass into a nice nap and dumped him at the local authorities’ doorstep for weapon trafficking.”

Seven smirked and raised her glass to that, the smirk turning into a fond look when Cris turned around to gather Raffi in his arms and gently lift her up her seat. As he carried her like that, Raffi’s head resting against his chest trustingly, Seven noticed how alike they looked.

“Space siblings,” she giggled.

(Seven was smashed.)

#my writing #birthday prompts #save tag #star trek: picard #star trek picard #cristobal rios #cris rios #raffi musiker #seven of nine

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scripttorture · 4 years

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Hi, how are you? I hope you're having a great day. If it's not too much to ask, I read the articles you linked about child soldiers, and they were very helpful, but not exactly what I'm looking for.. Do you happen to have links of first account stories or diaries of child soldiers? Two lead characters in my wip have been child soldiers in multiple wars in their country. (The setting is light fantasy, think non-European medieval times) (Child soldiers ask/1)

(Childsoldiers ask/2) Theyserved their country, and outside of war time, they received militaryeducation but were under significantly less pressure and stress, sowhile they never felt patriotic toward their country, they didn’tfind a reason to leave yet. That is until they turned 15-16 and wereforced to fight in the front field, where they saw the brutality oftheir own country by themselves, they tried to escape right then andthere, – (Child soldiers ask/3)–but were Captured by the enemy and spent a few weeks doing forcedlabor in an enclosed camp, before they were sold into slavery andbecame house slaves for a nobleman of their country’s enemies. Theymake friends with a slave there, who with a story of his own, hastried multiple times to escape but was always captured, punished(whipped), and forced to work right away. (Child soldiers ask/4)Theyfinally escape when the nobleman’s child bride kills him on the veryfirst night and joins them in a long escape out of the country,before they were rescued by the other slave’s friends. The storydoesn’t go too far in terms of time span, they don’t finish a year inslavery and then after that they help out (but don’t participate inbattle) in another war, before the story ends, maybe another 6months. (Child soldiers ask/6)Sowhile I have the elements of their rehabilitation into the peacefulcivilian life completed, I’d like more in-depth information about howthey would personally feel in that situation. The girl feels a lot ofshame for leaving her country, but has no wishes to return until theyfix the system, while the boy absolutely hates it and – (Childsoldiers ask/7)–onlyfeels resentment for it because of the abuse he suffered, but that’sonly after they learn what normal children their age should be doingand how they’re treated. Symptoms of anxiety and PTSD are prominentin their lives, but should I add more? And would the abuse the boysuffered from be counted as torture? I know this is long so thanks inadvance for your patience :) (Child soldiers ask/8)

I don’t think you will find the kind of in-depth first hand accounts you’re looking for without paying for them. That said there are books by former child soldiers that might fit.

I’m not aware of any diaries, most of these books were written years or decades after the fighting stopped. On a basic level I’m not sure many children that young keep a regular diary and many adult diarists have found it impossible to keep one going through a war.

This is a research book based on interviews with child soldiers that I’m ordering (M Wessel’s Child Soldiers: From Violence to Protection). This one is a first hand account, I Beah A Long Way Gone. There’s also E Jal’s War Child: A Child Soldier’s Story. Girl Soldier co authored by G Akallo and F J H McDonnell might also be useful, it draws heavily on Akallo’s experience as a child soldier. Child Soldier by C Keitetsi may also be useful.

I have not read any of these first hand accounts. I find it… telling that all of the detailed first hand accounts I can find in English are by Africans. The difficulty finding accounts from European and Asian child soldiers may reflect a bias in the publishing industry, or simply one in the search engine I’m using.

Searching for the Khmer Rogue, recent conflicts in the Balkans and memoirs from Poland during world war two will probably all bring up more memoirs from child soldiers. However those available for free may be shorter and vaguer, while more detailed memoirs may be untranslated.

You can also find accounts by using Amnesty International’s search function. There are 171 results relating to child soldiers. I have not read all of them and Amnesty’s interviews tend to be on the short side but these do contain useful first hand accounts.

In terms of whether the characters ‘count’ as survivors- I think it’s important to remember that we’re talking about a purely legal distinction and I think you could argue the case either way.

The UN declaration against torture says that to be torture something must cause severe pain or suffering. But it explicitly says that need not be physical. Something that is intended to cause mental distress (desecration of corpses or religious sites, forcing Hindus to eat beef or Muslims to eat pork, etc) can be defined as torture.

I think that the systematic exploitation and bullying of a child by armed forces could count under modern law.

However there’s no indication in this that these soldiers have been ordered to bully this child or that they’re doing it for one of the four very well defined motivations the UN declaration outlines.

But the argument about whether it meets the strict legal definition seems like a distraction from the real question here which seems to be: ‘how traumatising is this scenario? Is the symptom level appropriate?’

I think it could be however it’s unclear to me whether the characters are both suffering from PTSD and anxiety or whether one has PTSD and the other anxiety.

I don’t think it’s a good idea to give all the survivors in your story the same symptoms. There is variety in survivors in real life. If you’re writing multiple survivors in the same story then it’s important to try and reflect that variety.

Two symptoms seems like a perfectly reasonable level for the girl to me. It could also work for the boy. But personally if I was writing this scenario and trying to put forward the idea that the boy has lived through more I would give him more symptoms as well. If you are trying to establish something as ‘worse’ in the narrative then you should be prepared to back that up with consequences for the characters.

The slave character, who has been tortured and forced to work for a relatively long time, should definitely have more then two symptoms. I think something more in the range of 3-5 would be appropriate.

I get the impression from the other asks you’ve sent that you tend to consistently underestimate symptoms.

Try not to look at symptoms as flaws or limiting factors on your characters. They are not things that you have to struggle to reduce.

Try instead to think of them as opportunities for you, the author.

Disability and mental illness should not be an insurmountable barrier to the plot. Because it is not an insurmountable barrier in most people’s lives.

These things do create difficulties and problems, often problems that are socially constructed. But people who live with disabilities and mental illness find ways around these problems every day. This necessary creative thinking is an addition to any story.

If your character is in a wheelchair and the important plot device is up a flight of stairs then that shouldn’t mean the character can’t succeed. Instead it means they need a different, less obvious, way to get what they need.

And the solution you choose tells readers more about the character. They might build a device that lets them glide right to the top or plant explosives around the foundations and bring the tower down or hire someone to carry them up. Each of those solutions tells you something about the character as a person.

Symptoms are like that. They are narrative opportunities.

Think about why you’ve chosen PTSD and anxiety. Think about which character they work best with. Think about what those symptoms add.

And consider the other common symptoms and the common memory problems your characters could have. Use them to create varied survivors with different responses.

I worry any time I see an author say their character ‘only feels’ a particular emotion. Because this is never true for people. And while authors often mean ‘this character feels that particular emotion a lot’ sometimes they mean it literally.

A well-written character is not one emotional note, whether they’re a survivor or not.

Resentment towards the adults who exploited and hurt him isn’t unreasonable. Shame about the atrocities she was forced to participated in isn’t unusual.

Think about how to build on these starting points.

If the girl feels ashamed about what she did how does she feel about the people she left behind? Does she think they’re immoral or does she feel sympathy for them and the way they’ve been manipulated?

Does the boy primarily resent the people or what happened to him? Does he associate everyone from his country with what he endured? If so does he view the country that enslaved him differently? Does he see the girl he’s escape with as an exception or does his view of his country effect how he sees her?

Even if these emotions are experienced more often these characters should feel more then one thing. Think about what might prompt other feelings.

If the girl is trapped in a depressive spiral what could pull her out of it for a while? Anger or defensiveness on behalf of her friend? An odd incident that prompts a laugh? Awe or pride at the realisation of how much she’s already done? Because by escaping an active army and enslavement in a foreign country she has already achieved much more then most.

Similarly what could puncture the boy’s rage? What would shock him? What would make him cry?

Is he holding on to anger because he’s afraid of what he might be or feel without it?

A lot of this boils down to standard writing advice for any character: they should feel like complete people.

That doesn’t mean they can’t be flawed, or wrong or missing something important in their lives. It means that they need to feel ‘real’; as if they have dreams and fears and personalities that are possible.

Writing survivors is more complicated but that doesn’t mean the usual approaches to character creation don’t apply. Personal history or traumatic events shouldn’t replace a character’s personality, wants or worries.

And that can be hard to write. Because you’ve got to do all the same work you would for a non-traumatised character, then add another layer of work on top of that.

In fact it’s more then that, because you have to merge all these things and make it look seamless, effortless for the reader.

I emphasised a lot of the planning and thinking part of character creation here. And that is important.

But if you’re struggling with your confidence or character creation generally there is no substitute for practice.

Give yourself permission to experiment, to learn, to get things wrong. This is part of everyone’s writing process.

So yes, think, plan, search for opportunities with things like symptoms. But also practice. Write short scenes or stories. Write multiple versions of the same scene. Try out writing the same character with different symptoms to figure out which you like best.

I hope that helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#park-chimchim #writing advice #tw torture #tw child abuse #tw child soldiers #tw slavery #writing victims #writing survivors #mental health #rehabilitating child soldiers #child soldiers #survivor accounts #diverse responses are not only realistic #they make a fictional world seem more real

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stargazing-enby · 4 years

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I have a question that I would love your opinion on. I'm a fic writer myself but I can never figure out what is okay for me to write or not. Like, if you write about a character with a disability, maybe deafness or blindness, is that okay? Or should you experience it yourself or know someone who had? Or trans fics? I personally love those, but Is it transphobic to write a fic about a trans character and not being trans yourself? I have no idea whats offensive and I don't want to offend anyone

Thank you for your question! It's a very good one!

I actually had a few conversations about this a while ago. I used to think we should leave the representation to the people who have experienced the thing in question, but the things other people told me made me change my mind entirely.

First of all, this is fanfic! And while I think media needs to actively hire people from minorities to write believable, complex, and not offensive characters belonging to those minorities, I don't think that applies to fanfic, at least not to the same extent. Fanfic is you writing for yourself and for a bunch of people at home who share their love for a fandom with you, not mass media. So it definitely shouldn't be held to the same standards.

Second of all, writing about things you haven't experienced is a great opportunity to research, to talk to people that belong to the minority, to read and hear what they have to say. It's a chance to open your mind, to learn about struggles that you have never even had to stop to think about and to share them with the world and help even one more person be aware of them.

And finally, from my experience so far writing about experiences I don't share, many people appreciate it a lot. It's awesome to have people in the comments and even your DMs thank you and tell you your fic made them emotional 👉🏼👈🏼 this happened when I wrote my ace!Draco drabble (I'm not ace, but my girlfriend and a lot of my friends are)!

A few recommendations I'd give are:

- Before you write, do research! A good place to start, in my experience, is Youtube, because many people use it as a platform to share their experiences (I've been watching a few trans and blind Youtubers lately!) There are also tumblr blogs, articles, and even real life conferences you can attend in some cases!

- While/after you write, find a sensitivity reader. A good place to find them is discord, although tumblr could also work. I usually either throw the question to the general public or ask close friends, but if you want to ask someone you don't know well, remember that they have every right to say no, because not everyone wants to educate you on their existence. But there are many people who are happy to help! I know I always am as long as it comes from a place of genuine interest and respect :)

- Listen to what sensitivity readers have to say to you. Concrit is hard sometimes, but you may have messed up without meaning to and that's okay, you didn't know better. Just thank them, and have a conversation about how to improve the fic! 😊 (I have to say here too, if you're the sensitivity reader, it's helpful for writers to know exactly where the problem is and get feedback on how to fix it — at least I personally prefer it to just getting a "this doesn't work" and not knowing what exactly needs to be changed! But everyone is different, so it's good to establish boundaries and ask questions).

- When you're going to post, make sure to tag it. Some people don't want to read about the minority they belong to because it may exhaust them, remind them of negative experiences, or maybe they just want to forget about themselves while we read (don't we all? 😂), so having the minority be a "surprise" in your fic is not the best idea. Let people know it's gonna be there! Credit your sensitivity reader (if they want you to) in the notes! Link to the places you got your info from if you feel like it!

- Remember that everyone's experience is different, and don't panic too much about not giving your character every single experience and thought you've read about. Experiences aren't universal!

Personally, I love reading about Harry's PTSD even when I can't relate to what he's feeling. I can't even tell if the writer has PTSD too or not, and I honestly don't care, because I just think it would be rude and intrusive to assume/go around asking people if they knew what they were doing when they wrote their fic. In my years in the fandom I've only encountered one or two fics centered around Harry's or Draco's PTSD that I absolutely couldn't keep reading because of how unrealistic they were, and even then, I just closed the fic and went on with my life, because I'm not here to tell people what they can and can't write.

Tl;dr: I think the people who should be concerned about being offensive are the ones who write characters for canon, and not for fandom — they're responsible for giving proper representation and offering jobs to people from minorities, while we're just fans taking a chance to get to understand others and open our minds to struggles and experiences we're not a part of.

Anyone else got any thoughts on this? Feel free to share!

#rockmarina answers #Ask #Representation #Representation in fic #Minorities #Writer struggles #Writer advice #This applies to fanart too! Like if you want to draw someone on a wheelchair that's awesome #What a better chance to learn how wheelchairs are designed to help their users?#:D #I fixed my typos now lol #I need to re-read before I post

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vaspider · 5 years

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New & Updated Intro Post

My intro post is now incredibly outdated, so, here’s an entirely new one. Let’s start with a few important updates:

If you like what I do? Consider hiring me, consider buying something from NerdyKeppie (the shop I own with my spouse - we do custom work!), consider buying me a coffee or becoming a Patron or tossing some money in my PayPal tip jar.

I am a disabled, queer, fat, Jewish non-binary butch whose entire income is derived from selling Quality Queerwear via our company NerdyKeppie (we also offer patches of all sorts, nerd gear, etc -- if you don’t see it, ask!), Patreon (queer fiction for a dollar) and freelance work. Please consider supporting me if you like what I do!

Yes, I used to identify as femme and in 2018 I came out as butch and forgot to update my intro post for like a year. So, yes, at one point I identified as femme, largely due to social pressure and trying to be something I wasn’t. 2018 is the year I claimed my butch soul, and holy shit, I’ve never been happier. This is not an indication of me not understanding butch and femme - it’s an understanding that no matter how old you get, you are constantly on a journey to understand yourself better. Or, at least, you should be.

At one point I identified as pansexual as well as bisexual, and I like the header art with the pansexual flag in it which was made for me years ago, so even though I no longer identify as pansexual, I’m keeping it until I find something I like better. You’d think I wouldn’t have to explain all this but people love picking at these things.

No, I am not going to debate the history or meaning of butch and femme with you or anyone. The links are in my header.

If you’re here to hateread, do yourself a favor and don’t. That’s just not healthy. And for the love of G-d, stop linking to my posts. I can see your posts, y’all; I have a site tracker. It’s just awkward and kind of sad.

Okay, so anyway.

Radfems, TWERFs, SWERFs and REGs/Exclusionists are explicitly not welcome here, and I do not want my family stories or life used for your politics. I block all of these categories, full stop. Radfems & TWERFs/TERFs deny the essential humanity of myself and my daughter and Exclusionists are just sort of painfully clueless about community history and what the community actually looks like offline. if you self-ID as one of those, please save us all the trouble and just don’t. If you’ve reblogged one of my posts and added something about how this proves one of your points, please pretend you respect other people and take it down.

If you are here because you don’t understand the post about the dog that attacked me, or its point, either legitimately or because you don’t really want to get it & want to argue with me about it, tell me I need to get counseling for my fear of dogs, tell me I’ve compared men to dogs, please go read seananmcguire explaining the post to someone who already sent me an ask about it. That pretty much covers why the post exists. Also you should buy and read Seanan’s books.

Also, also, all of the stories about @seananmcguire you’ve heard are probably true if they’re bizarre or funny. Especially the one about the lizard and the one about the frog.

If you’re here to tell me my views on asexuality & the queer community are wrong or that stuff I lived through & you weren’t born yet for is ‘ahistorical,’ go away. This blog is explicitly anti-gatekeeping for the Not-Straight Club.

If you’re here about the post about my great-grandmother, I kind of don’t have it in my heart to answer all the sad family stories. If you shared a family story on that post, thank you. If you want to use it to make some sort of gross radfem point about marital rape or some comment about how my great-granddad should have learned to pull out, I’m gonna block you without answering you. Don’t be gross.

If you’re here about the tiny house post, please read the notes, I’m not gonna explain it again.

Anon is never turned on, but if you ask me not to publish an ask, I won’t. Please remember to put that in the ask.

So here’s some stuff you should know about me:

I’m older than large portions of Tumblr, and in a fair number of cases I’m probably twice your age or more. If that’s a problem, I really am not offended if you aren’t cool with interacting with me. Age can be a powerful unbalancer in social relationships. I AM going to get annoyed if you start ‘explaining’ stuff I lived through to me and insisting you know my history better than I do.

Since it bears repeating one more time: I’m not interested in interacting with TWERFs, SWERFs, or ace-exclusionary queers. I’ve been Out for nearly 30 years & I really have no desire to argue my lived experience with anyone. I explicitly reject the term SGA.

My immediate family consists of my spouse @dadhoc, our beloved @apocalycious, my teenage daughter @mistresskabooms and stepson, my adopted son Owl, and DadHoc, MK and I’s 3 dogs: Lyudmila Pupperchenko (Mila), Captain Malcolm Reynolds (Cap), and Ser Davos Seawoof (Davos).

My brother’s band is Downtrodder and you should listen to them, because they’re awesome.

No one in my immediate family is cis or het. I have been called Spider for 20+ years, & now a lot of people call me Mama Spider.

In this house we understand that Ally is a verb, and it’s possible to be antagonistic toward a marginalization that you possess. Internalized transphobia, ableism, etc. are hellacious things to uproot. In this house we try to stay in our lanes & we understand call-outs while being aware of the toxic parts of call-out culture. Be cool to teenagers: you were one, and yes, the shit you said was just as stupid. You don’t win points for browbeating a teenager over an idea, you just look like a jerk.

I used to have a lot of paragraphs here about specific beliefs of mine, but really: Ally is a verb, intersections matter, capitalism is broken and cannot be fixed. I understand the difference between a bolt of linen and four shirts and believe that labor is entitled to all it creates. My class is ‘petit bourgeois,’ as I have seized the means of my own production.

If you screw up and you say something that hurts someone, say you’re sorry, and try not to do it again. It’s not that hard! Don’t tell them they shouldn’t be hurt. This goes double if it was an accident. “I didn’t know that was offensive, I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll be more mindful in the future.” See how easy that is? That’s how we do in this house.

I’m bisexual, non-binary, disabled, neurodiverse, and don’t want pity or to hear how sorry you are for either of those last two things. Being autistic is just fine, and it didn’t happen because I was vaccinated. I have PTSD and GAD, and I live with both of them. They’re terrible roommates but I’ve got used to them. I’d like it if people would just stop throwing shade at the invisibly ill when we park in handicapped spots – I’m missing part of my spine, for fuck’s sake – and playing Oppression Olympics will get you stern looks and no dessert.

In this house we do nerd culture, there are no fake geek girls, and we understand that women invented masked superheroes (The Scarlet Pimpernel), science fiction (Mary Shelley), the modern novel (Jane Austen), dystopia fiction (Mary Shelley again), computer programming (Ada Lovelace and the ENIACs, which is my new band name), and got Star Trek on the air (Lucille Ball).

If I didn’t cover it, assume if it involves being a jerk or punching down, I’m not okay with it.

If it involves dogs being adorable, otters, mermaids, spiders, most of the major fandoms Tumblr loves (I can’t get into Supernatural, sorry, I tried), or people doing awesome shit, I am definitely here for that.

I am a Social Justice Paladin. I tank trolls. I used to think I was a Rogue, but, yeah, I tank trolls.

About six months ago, someone started calling me the ‘Non-Binary Regent of Summer,’ and I ran with that like an Olympic torch. Yep. It me.

@hypoallergeniccuddles thinks I’m secretly Mrs. Weasley.

That may be true also. If so, please remember what happens when you fuck with Molly’s children.

Welcome. Supper is at seven, the Wizard Home will make a room for you if you need it.

This post will be repeated a few times over the next few days so everyone sees it. <3 Thanks. I’m glad you’re all here.

#faq #byf

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cindylouwho-2 · 4 years

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RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES & STUDIES, early February 2020

Welcome to my latest summary of recent ecommerce news, resources & studies including search, analytics, content marketing, social media & Etsy! This covers articles I came across since the late January report, although some may be older than that. Report is a bit short because I was sick this last week; don’t worry, I used hand sanitizer before typing this up, so you are all safe 🤒

I am currently looking into setting up a new ecommerce business forum where we can discuss this sort of news, as well as any day-to-day issues we face. I need some good suggestions for a cheap or free forum space that has some editing tools, is fairly intuitive for inexperienced members, and is accessible. If you have any suggestions, please reply to this post, email me on my website, or send me a tweet. (I will put out a survey once we narrow this down to some good candidates, but if you have any other comments on what you want from such a forum, please include those too!)

As always, if you see any stories I might be interested in, please let me know!

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES

Searchmetrics says Etsy did quite well [podcast & text] in the Google January Core Update, while both Amazon and Walmart lost a little bit. “Who won January? I’m going to say Etsy. Etsy has really done a tremendous job [with Google visibility] over the last two years. Sure, they’ve been on the winning side of the algorithm update, but consistently, being in that a position, from my experience, isn’t by chance.” Here’s more analysis listing the US winners and losers, including by subject category (sadly, not shopping sites). Marie Haynes says that the update likely targeted sites that aren’t properly disclosing affiliate links, as well as some pet health sites.

Since a quarter of Americans have a disability, your website, your products & your marketing should be more accessible. Lots of good ideas in here!

ETSY NEWS

TOU alert: Etsy has banned the sale of spent bullet casings (often used as craft supplies). It’s not clear why. There is a thread from a seller whose listings were pulled here.

The 2020 wedding trends blog post is one of those pieces that is useful to sellers & buyers alike, and is also good for Etsy because it attracts outside articles and links. Some trend & keyword info of interest: ”there has been a 171% increase in searches on Etsy for bridesman items and a 72% increase in searches for best woman items”... “searches for ‘70s invitations increase 18% and searches for disco ball items increase 18%” ...”24% increase in searches for bridal jackets and a 4% increase in searches for women’s pantsuits” …”searches for reused, recycled, or reclaimed wedding items increasing 7%” in the last six months (compared to the same time the previous year).

Etsy released its annual diversity & inclusion report on January 29, getting some media coverage along the way, for example here, here and here.

Reverb hired David Mandelbrot as their new CEO; he most recently ran Indiegogo. (Etsy bought Reverb last year.)

The 4th quarter 2019 results will be out Feb. 26. I am currently planning on doing my usual summary thread in the forum.

Decent overview of product photography for beginners, with some pointers on what Etsy wants you to do with photos. For example, “The recommended size for listing images is 2000px for the shortest side of the image, and a resolution of 72PPI.”

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES

So you know what Etsy tags are, but you get confused when people talk about tags for search engines? Read this beginners guide to SEO meta tags. (not needed for Etsy shops, but it is terminology used by some website builder sites, as well as coders of course.)

Data provider Jumpshot will be closing due to the controversies over the revelation that their parent company Avast (the anti-virus software) provided user activity to Jumpshot while perhaps not always fully disclosing this to the users. This will affect some SEO tools that relied on these click stats to generate estimates for traffic & search term use, Hitwise & Moz among them. “In all likelihood, Avast took the action to protect its core business, as multiple articles, including from Consumer Reports, called out the company for its data collection practices, while some called for the uninstallation of the Avast software. This is probably as much PR damage control as it is driven by any principled position.”

Forbes appears to have been hit by some Google search issue, but it happened later than the Core Update, so no one is sure what is going on.They were previously penalized for selling links, but that was years ago.

John Mueller listed all of the big Google search news from January in this almost 9 minute video. Click to see the detailed info under the video, because they helpfully summarized the important topics by timestamp, and linked to text resources as well. (Some of it is technical/coding relating; you have been warned!)

There may be another big Google ranking update happening right now (Feb. 9), as tracked by Search Engine Roundtable. Check that site over the next few days for any updates.

CONTENT MARKETING & SOCIAL MEDIA (includes blogging & emails)

The time you send your marketing emails matters, although it’s going to vary more than this article lets on. Keep track of your own stats.

Debunking some myths about Instagram, including the importance of your follower count. “...your follower count isn’t the most important metric on Instagram. Your engagement rate is. Your engagement rate (which is found by calculating the number of engagements you receive divided by EITHER the number of people who saw it OR your total followers, depending on who you ask) is crucial.”

If you use the app Social Captain for Instagram, be aware that your Instagram password was publicly available in the source code.

Facebook’s algorithm has a lot of different factors controlling who sees your posts, including actually having conversations with others, and including “quality, original videos.”

Facebook’s revenue was up 25% in the 4th quarter of 2019, to $21.1 billion, but they expect the privacy controversies to cut into growth this year.

Pinterest is testing an augmented reality tool called “Try On” that allows users to see what they will look like with specific lipstick colours.

ONLINE ADVERTISING (SEARCH ENGINES, SOCIAL MEDIA, & OTHERS)

Google Shopping Ads will soon be shown in Gmail accounts, YouTube and the Discover feed, starting March 4th. Note that “Retailers have been steadily shifty more of their search budgets from text to Shopping ads.”

A comparison of Google Ads vs. Facebook Ads, with plenty of tips. According to them, if you are seriously considering one, you should probably do both. “When we talk about Facebook, we’re also talking about Instagram, What’sApp, and Facebook Messenger. Google also includes YouTube, the second-most trafficked site in the world (behind Google itself).”

Google’s revenue was up 17% in the 4th quarter in 2019, almost all of it from advertising. YouTube makes more on ads than Amazon does.

ECOMMERCE NEWS, IDEAS, TRENDS

eBay released its 4th quarter results for 2019 on January 28, with revenue down 2% and gross merchandise value down 5%. Amazon’s sales were up 21% for the 4th quarter.

BigCommerce now allows customers to check out in over 100 currencies, integrated with several different payment processors.

Wondering what a good conversion rate would be for different ecommerce pages? Here’s a brief overview of the known stats, with some tips on improving.. (Note that any action can be counted as a conversion, including signing up for an email list, so this isn’t just about purchases.)

BUSINESS & CONSUMER STUDIES, STATS & REPORTS; SOCIOLOGY & PSYCHOLOGY, CUSTOMER SERVICE

Are you marketing to Generation Z, or think you should be? Here are 52 facts (with the citations); some highlights: Gen Z has more members than millennials do, and “As of 2020, Gen Z makes up more than 40% of U.S. consumers.” and finally “When shopping online or in stores, 65% of Gen Z prefers to see as few items as possible out of stock” (that last one explains a feedback I received, I think LOL Kind of hard on Etsy when you might have a listing with multiple choices & you only have the one left.)

A study of Cyber Week email open & click rates shows that it might be better not to mention the holidays or discounts.

This article warns consumers of the tricks ecommerce sites use to nudge people to buy more, including some clear examples of deception. “A study by Princeton University and the University of Chicago singled out online clothing seller Fashion Nova, which tells customers that items in their cart “are in high demand.” The problem? The message appears for any item that’s added to the cart. Fashion Nova’s cart also tells shoppers that their items are being “reserved” for 10 minutes. But nothing happens to the items after the 10 minutes are up.”

MISCELLANEOUS

YouTube wants Clearview AI’s face recognition program to stop scraping its videos for content, and to delete anything it has already collected. (Twitter did the same last month.)

#CindyLouWho2NewsUpdates #SEO #search engine optimization #search engine marketing #EtsyNews #etsy #Social media #contentmarketing #content marketing #Ecommerce #smallbiz #SEOTips #customer service #ppc advertising #Onlinemarketing #ecommercetips #emailmarketing #socialmedianews

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rebelwheelssoapbox · 5 years

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Disability Rights & The Woes of Political Isolation

by Rebelwheels NYC Although it is true that disabled people exist within every marginalized demographic, and thus every issue impacts the disability community, (as a person can be disabled and black, disabled and transgender, disabled and a refugee etc), I am going to be talking about some issues that don't normally get the spotlight and some theories as to why that is the case.

There are many obstacles in the path of advancement when it comes to Disability Rights in the U.S. Politicians being one - and not just Republicans, my friends. Sometimes it’s not just the elephant in the room, sometimes the donkey is truly an ass.

[photo of disabled activist and editor in chief for Rooted In Rights, Emily Landau who is sitting in her wheelchair, holding up a sign that reads “Because of the Americans With Disabilties Act, I can get around my community! # Hands Off My ADA #Stop HR 620, because there were people in the Republican AND Democratic party who voted to gut the ADA. ] But I digress. Another major influence is the severe lack of disability representation in the media (TV, Movies, etc.) When there is representation, (besides there being a total lack of diversity), more than not the stories are written by able bodied people, the disabled characters are played by able bodied actors, and the plot is usually some recycled trope.

Disability is tragic, pitiful and the only chance of happiness is a cure... or death. Disability is a trick, where the character presents themselves as disabled but ha ha ha, plot twist! They are not disabled at all. Fakers! Cheating the system, swindling us all. And of course, the dangerous disabled man, usually blind and/or mentally ill, who should be feared and is typically some sort of murderer. But let's not forget the disabled character who might as well be called Angel, because they never complain or frown and pretty much exist to inspire and uplift the able bodied audience.

[A poster for the movie Me Before You, where the disabled character kills himself in the end, leaving all of his money to his able bodied love interest, because while the tagline of the film was to live boldly, apparently the film did not intend that message to include disabled people. In the image the able bodied character is sitting on the disabled character’s lap, as the disabled character sits in his motorized wheelchair.] People seem to love disabled people when we’re presented as this trope-based concept, but when we present ourselves as full fledged human beings, fighting for and deserving of civil rights? Well, that “plot line” just doesn't seem to be as interesting.

Many people don't even know the word ableism. When we are oppressed, it's not oppression, people are just being “mean”. As a result, you have this weird mix of experience (if your disability is visible) where when you're out in public, random people gawk at you, hyper aware of your existence, and yet, when it's time to talk about cuts to healthcare (as an example), such as medicare and medicaid, it's disabled who? Disabled what? Never heard of it.

[image of a disabled activist in a wheelchair being taken away by the police. A lot of people seemed to forget how disabled activists, including those from ADAPT, put their bodies on the line, when protesting Trumpcare in solidarity with the resistance. Photo source: Getty Images/PS Mag.] Now, mix all of that with the fact that there is so much injustice going on in the world, to the point where it's practically impossible to keep up with everything, and well, disability rights issues pretty much go unnoticed. But wait a minute. Is it really that simple? After all, a number of people were up in arms when there was talks of major cuts to The Special Olympics. My local politicians had pinned tweets (posts on social media) with petitions, outraged and pledging to take action, but as an example, when New York State Governor Andrew Cuomo was (and continues to) talk about major cuts to medicaid programs like the CDPA , with the exception of some minor local media coverage and a small pocket within the disability rights movement, it was pretty much crickets.

[A disabled athlete poses in front of a red backdrop with the white special olympics logo. She flexes her muscles and smiles, and has several medals around her neck] Now, it is true, Special Olympics is a federal program, where as the proposed cuts to the CDPA were only state-wide. More than that, one is a televised program where disabled athletes compete for medals and glory. There are lights, there are cameras, it's a whole production with corporate sponsors eager to scoop up that good PR. The mission is to empower people with intellectual disabilities to find purpose and confidence via sports and competition, while also inspiring [able bodied] “people in their communities and elsewhere to open their hearts to a wider world of human talents and potential.” And then we have The CDPA, lesser known but a program nonetheless, that empowers disabled people (like myself) who rely on home services, to hire their own personal attendants, thus giving them a choice as to who comes into their homes, who bathes their bodies, who makes their meals (or even helps them eat – if this is what is needed. Needs vary of course.) And while there are no lights, no cameras, no tickets to the show – it does create over 100,000 jobs, which is nothing to sneeze at.

[photo of New York State Governor, Andrew Cuomo who stands at a podium. Behind him is a blue backdrop that reads “2019 Justice Agenda”. Sadly, his justice agenda is not justice for ALL New Yorkers and in many ways, throws disabled New Yorkers under the bus] But there is another factor here that can not be ignored. The name. While I am not a fan of the term “special” when in regard to disability, when it comes to a name like Special Olympics, you can get an idea of what will be involved. There are sports, there is competition, and there are people with “special needs” aka disabled people. And then, we have the CDPA ...what the hell is the CDPA? Even if it's spelled out: Consumer Direction Personal Assistance. How many people even read the whole title? Furthermore, after reading it, do you have any better idea as to what it's about? And that is one (of many) problems that the Disability Rights movement faces. Because a lot of disability rights (at least on a systemic level, opposed to identity and the more social side of ableism), it's pretty much policy based, which is just not that interesting to most people, especially when these policies are given names like Disability Integration Act, Consumer Direction Personal Assistance. None of these names invoke any kind of emotion or intrigue.

Now, of course the disability community can't help what the government chooses to name the policies, but what if when talking about them to the public, the community referred to them with something more exciting and informative? What if the policies were given direct but intriguing Reference Names?

[photo of disabled activists from ADAPT, taken from their website: Adapt.org ] For an example, let's take the DIA or Disability Integration Act. What if that same act was now referred to as the Stop Warehousing Disabled People Act? In that moment, you now have an idea of what the DIA is about. Of course, it would be the call of organizers to pick a reference name and it would still be connected to the legal name. Example: The Stop Warehousing Disabled People Act (otherwise known as the DIA) is an act that would prevent the state from being able to force disabled people against their will into institutions and nursing homes (because yes, that’s a thing.) And while the legal name would mostly be used when talking to people in the government, the reference name would be used when talking about it to the public, and even within our own community. The other day, I was chatting with a friend of mine, who is also in the disability community, about the DIA and he replied, “...What's the DIA?”. “You know, Disability Integration Act?” “Never heard of it.”

[photo of a man with a confused look on his face] Given the obstacles that the community faces when trying to gain public empathy and solidarity in response to the attacks from the system, one of the last things we need is to be held back by a lack of accessible and easy to understand language / marketing.

This includes how we describe the details of the policies as well. Several times, when I’ve attempted to comprehend the details of a policy that directly impacts myself and/or my peoples, I've had to ask a dear friend in the disability community (who is a former policy analyst) to literally translate the details into layman's terms. Not only does this show that the language is not accessible, but it also begs the question, how many people won't even bother to ask? Now of course, the issue of disability and political isolation is a very complicated topic, and in no way am I suggesting that these two ideas are the solution to all that ails our community. It should also be noted that in no way is this intended to disparage the efforts of the disability activists who work incredibly hard for the liberation of our people. That said, using language that is easier to understand, that invokes some kind of emotion, beyond our immediate disability activist circle, is only a step in the right direction, and may even lessen the woes of political isolation.

[Photo of New York State Governor Andrew Cuomo in mid speech. source: The New York Post. ] TAKE ACTION!

If you think Governor Cuomo's massive cuts to a program that not only empowers disabled and/or elderly people to choose who enters their homes and takes care of them, but also creates over 100,000 jobs for the community, then tell Cuomo, in the name of disability and worker solidarity to leave the CDPA alone. #SaveCDPA Call him at 518-474-8390 and press 2 to talk to his assistant. If you are unable to make a phone call, you can send him a message via his website: https://www.governor.ny.gov/content/governor-contact-form or reach him on twitter @NYGovCuomo

#Save CDPA #disability #disabled #disability rights #disability rights are civil rights #disability activism #CDPA #Governor Cuomo #Cuts to the CDPA #CDPA equals Freedom #ADAPT #adapt and resist #disabled af #disability representation

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hislittleflower-throughconcrete · 6 years

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I’m gonna rant about disability services at private Catholic schools for a second

I will preface this by saying that this is my experience at both of the Catholic schools I attended growing up. If I am generalizing please correct me, let me know, but I believe this problem is pervasive in most private Catholic schools (probably not just Catholic private schools, but all private schools, but I’m not touching on that right now.)

My brother’s kindergarten teacher was the first person to identify that he had ADHD. My parents took him to the necessary doctors/professionals so see what they could do. However, the school that he (and I, as well as all of my siblings) went to only had one lady who acted as a “resource” for kids who were struggling. She was a mom, I don’t know if she had any training at all to deal with learning disabilities - I honestly think she just took kids out of class to give them extra time to practice certain reading and math skills. Because none of the teachers were trained in dealing with kids who had ADHD (let alone learning disabilities or special needs, which my brother didn’t have) there was a point where I, a 5th grader, got called out of my math class to come into his 2nd grade classroom to comfort my crying brother as the teacher said impatiently, “you deal with him.” That was when my parents decided to put him in public school because they had the resources to actually accommodate my brother.

Fast forward to high school, this time concerning myself. I was in and out of high school due to depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation, and an eating disorder. After the first hospitalization, I get back to school and discover that I am required to make up all of my work. All of it. At the same time as trying to complete the current work being assigned. I was so stressed and already a perfectionist that I went back tot he hospital for anxiety-induced suicidal urges directly related to being so overwhelmed with my life. This happened at least three other times - where I was hospitalized due to my inability to cope with my own deteriorating mental health on top of all of that work. My mom and I repeatedly explained this to my high school’s “school counselor” (again, not sure if this lady had any training at all, my school was notorious for hiring unqualified people just because they were good-hearted and faith-filled individuals). She and all of my teachers maintained that I must make up all of my work, months and months of tests, papers, projects, and even busywork. When we asked why this was so even though it posed a serious risk to my, ya’know, life, they said that at that present moment, too or three other students had been out “sick” for months at a time (one had mono and one had had a concussion) and if I got an exception it wasn’t fair to them. In other words: Justice, not Mercy. The fact that I could die from “some stress” never seemed to penetrate their consciousness. I distinctly remember my “guidance counselor” (as I sat in her office weeks into my summer break catching up on work from the previous year) saying off-hand when I mentioned the stress, “well, we can’t all take a vacation every time life gets too hard.”

Fast forward to college. We heard about this “disability services” thing during orientation. I looked closely at whatever pamphlet I had been handed, and it listed mental health issues as disabilities. What? My mom and I decided to check it out, saying “it would be really cool if I could have someone at this big college to talk to and goto if I am struggling with work,” thinking that that was all she could offer me - things like tutors and advice. After providing the hospital and doctor records to disability services, I find out that I qualify for extension for assignments, excused absences, extended time on tests, modified or completely excused assignments, and more, because of my mental health issues, without any professor allowed to ask me why other than “a disability-related reason.” They also appointed a disability services advocate whose job was to go to bat with my professors for me if they did not comply.

To say that we were floored would have been incorrect. I wasn’t floored. I just didn’t understand. I felt I was cheating. I didn’t even know this was allowed. How was this fair to the other students? “You have a disability, this is to allow you to do as well as someone who doesn’t have this disability.” You mean I just don’t have to suck it up and deal with my problems on my own time? I have a disability? What?

Okay. There are two points to this post. One is the obvious: Catholic schools, you are losing the opportunity for children with disabilities to be formed in the faith. Like it or not, the majority of parents and families aren’t the ones who teach the faith to their kids - either they learn it at Catholic school, or just don’t learn it at all. I am aware this issue is heavily tied to funding, HOWEVER: disability services shouldn’t be this nifty add-on to a school, a novelty or a selling point. They should be a fundamental, integrated part of allowing students of all abilities to have the opportunity to be educated in their faith and a faith-filled environment. Parents should not have to choose, as my parents had to, between having their child grow up educated in the faith or actually being able to learn and be treated appropriately by teachers who understood him. (Yes, he still did CCD, but no, the CCD classes did not have disability-educated individuals teaching it - shocker. How much did he retain from it? A few weeks ago, he asked me what Pentecost was.)

The second issue is more tied to my experience. You are damaging people’s perception of God and His Love. You are saying that those of disabilities - those same people Jesus healed and released from their pain and struggles in the Gospels - aren’t important enough to be accommodated using a basic section of the school’s budget. This may be controversial, but part of me thinks that a school shouldn’t exist at all if it doesn’t have the ability to accommodate children with physical, intellectual, psychological, or developmental disabilities - yes, even and especially Catholic schools. I had a severely damaged faith as a result of the attitude of my school - yaknow, the ones who taught me about God and Jesus. I graduated high school hearing about “mercy,” and hating the whole concept. I seethed every time I heard the prodigal son bible reading, because I hated the fact that the wayward son was allowed to do that without any punishment. I didn’t understand mercy and it made me angry. Everyone deserves justice, I thought, and mercy is the opposite - a hall pass for the weak and undeserving. I punished myself through self harm every time I got less than an A on a test, every time I said something stupid and felt embarrassed. The self-harming and perfectionistic inclinations were mine, but the importance of justice was fed to me by them. Self harm and suicidal ideation were listed as sins against the commandment “Thou Shalt Not Kill” without any mention about exceptions, or what to do if you felt that way. A teacher told us that the worst sin of all - above rape and murder of children - was desecration of the Eucharist by receiving it unfaithfully. I abstained from the Eucharist for years because I couldn’t stop cutting or disordered eating behaviors, and I was in a constant state of mortal sin (I thought) so I couldn’t receive. No one on staff was educated enough on mental health disabilities to point out that saying things like eating disorders, cutting, and suicidal ideation were sins could result from an illness, a disability, that was not being addressed. I told priest after priest that those were my sins, and to be fair, most asked if I was in therapy, but only one mentioned to me that he didn’t think that my cutting was “completely” a sin, that the guilt was reduced due to “addiction.” But I quickly disregarded that comment, because I was not giving myself a free pass. God deserves Justice - the least sin in His eyes breaks the whole Law. If an action hurts someone else or hurts God, the offended party deserves justice. Not excuses for weak people. Justice, not Mercy.

But college was also the same time I was actually introduced to having a personal relationship with Jesus. The first time I confessed to a priest who immediately said that I was so, so wrong in my understanding of who God was and what He wanted of me. He rejoiced in me. In me. His unconditional love did not excuse my sins, but heal them. His Mercy was not a free pass of pity at my weakness, but the bandages in which He used to bind up my wounds. If I had learned about Mercy before this, it was not in this way. I was taught through actions, if not the words themselves, that justice for others was worth more than mercy on me. And even now I am stunned every time I am “ given a break.” Because that’s what it feels like, bosses and professors who accommodate my disability - them being generous. Not my basic needs being met.

Love the least in the eyes of the world, Catholic schools. Do better. Don’t consider yourself inclusive after building some wheelchair ramps and asking a parish mom to come in on Wednesdays to help the kids who “just aren’t getting it.” Work with families. Hire trained staff members - plural - who are equipped to deal with a wide range of disabilities, including learning disabilities, mental health issues, autism, and Down syndrome. The souls of all children with disabilities whose parents want their child to grow to know Jesus through their schools hangs in the balance.

@patron-saint-of-smart-asses @catholicamputee @alwaysabeautifullife @hissaltandlight @tinycatholicbean and @ all other tumbler Catholics who either have a physical/mental disability or are parents of a child with one.

#catholic #disability #catholic school

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lawgrain · 5 years

Text

Not Boyfriends (Phandom) Chapter 2

Fandom: Phandom (Dan and Phil)

Pairings: Take a random guess at it, I’m sure you’ll get it right.

Summary: This is actually a prompt fic. It goes something like this: “ Where a superhero has to deal with a super villain that thinks they’re best friends.” I thought it’d be more fun to do boyfriends instead of best friends.

Link for Chapter 1

Phil's POV

I swear, if he calls me more pet names I'll hospitalize him.

Phil was extra grumpy tonight. Somehow the video file he'd been working on got erased from his computer and his boss chewed him out for it. Now he was stood in the middle of a museum with Phantom trying on some priceless tiara. He could tell his day was about to get worse.

“Hey sweets, do you think this looks good on me?”

Here we go.

“Can you cut it out with the nicknames for just one night?” Phil knew there was desperation in his voice.

“Sure thing,” Phantom answered readily.

That was weirdly easy...

“I guess I'll just stick with calling you Phil tonight.” The smirk was obvious in his voice.

Phil's blood ran cold. How did he know that?

“You doing okay there Phil?”

Phil snapped his attention to the other man. He was treating this like another game. He was treating Phil's life like a game.

In a flash, Phil was suddenly right by the offending man, landing a punch to the man's cheek. Phantom was thrown a couple feet away by the momentum.

The man groaned, but surprisingly got up as if nothing had happened. Phil knew he had to be in some pain after a direct hit like that. He didn't care though.

“How'd you find out my name?” Phil demanded.

“Touchè topic, I see.” His words still sounded like a groan but in his next sentence, all traces of pain were hidden away. “Don't worry about the name thing though. I won't give out my boyfriend’s information without permission.”

Phil couldn't believe he was still on that kick right now. He couldn't focus on that until he had his question answered.

“How. Did. You. Find out?” He reiterated.

“Jeesh. Why don't we punctuate every word for emphasis? That'll be intimidating.”

Despite his words, Phil noticed that the other was keeping a distance.

“If you really want to know, you could go on a date with me. It appears that you don't have a spouse and by the sounds of it, your family seem like wonderful people.”

He didn't know when to quit. Phil in a blind fury, sent blasts aiming to kill the man. Expecting this, Phantom dodged letting Phil only smash the windows.

“It was actually a tracker. They do wonders for a person. But seeing as you're stressed out tonight, I'll take my leave.”

Before Phil could process these words, he felt himself being wrapped around in a cord and Phantom had jumped out the three story window, bounding away.

He realized that he'd just been tricked. Phantom knew that he'd throw Phil over the edge. He knew that he would lash out and create an exit. Phil had played into his hands. Phantom also knew Phil's identity.

That terrified him. The villain was now aware of his family, friends, address, career and everything else he could think of. While Phantom wasn't as malicious as the other super villains, this wasn't okay. All it took was a slip of the tongue for someone much worse to find him.

Eventually, Phil broke free from his restraints. He had long ago assumed that Phantom used his money to hire a weapons designer. All of their encounters seemed to be riddled with new tech designed to disable Phil in some form. That's when the police arrived to the scene.

Looking at Phil alone without a suspect, they figured it out.

“Phantom Dove?” The chief of police approached him.

Phil looked at the officer ruefully. “Of course it was. But we have a new problem.” Phil paused and the man looked at him questioningly. “He knows my name.”

“Shit.”

“I know.”

“Do you think he'll...?”

“No. He won't tell everyone. Not on purpose. But he knows where I live. He knows my family.”

“What do you want to do?”

Phil appreciated that the he was letting Phil choose how they were to proceed. While Phil was a vigilante, he worked alongside the law. He built up a well enough repore that they were able to help each other out on occasion.

“I want to catch him. I'll set up some new security in my home and alert my family. They should be far enough away that Phantom won't do anything. Otherwise there's nothing I really can do.” Sadly Phil knew this to be the case. He didn't want any more people to know his identity and that included the police force.

“Alright, but for now Phantom Dove is public enemy number one.”

That he was.

Dan's POV

“Fucking badger tits,” Dan cursed wince as he tended to the welp on the side of his head. He is 99% sure that if his mask didn't absorb blows that he'd be knock out and dead right now.

Instead he was sent home, tail between his legs, to lick his wounds. And holy cock sucker did a direct hit hurt.

After this Dan was definitely going to improve his suit. Not only did he look like he'd been brutally mugged, but he also had a few burns where Phil's lasers had made it past his suite. He really should've laid off the whole identity thing.

Not worth it.

He just hoped he'd concealed his pain well. He was used to hiding pain, so he didn't think Phil would've noticed with how furious he was.

In hindsight, that all was a very bad idea. Dan was so used to having no one that the idea of worrying about others didn't occur to him. Hence why he should've been surprised when Phil became a tad bit murderous.

Turning on his t.v., he thinks he may of misunderstood the full scope of what he did. While law enforcement had always been keen on capturing him, the news was calling for a full on man-hunt. They must've thought he was a legit danger to Phil now.

Whoops.

How was he supposed to know that secret identities were a sore topic?

I'm an idiot…

Fine, okay, it should've been common knowledge that he shouldn't go digging into Phil's identity. He gets that now. He still would've done it, but now he knows that he shouldn't’ve let Phil know that he had done that. He was just lucky that the man had accidentally destroyed an exit for him. That wasn’t exactly a part of the plan, but Dan wasn’t sure if he would have made it if Phil hadn’t gone all Wreck-It Ralph on him.

With that new understanding of how humans work, Dan supposed he should go underground for a bit. He was in no condition to go out fighting for a while and still had injuries from other encounters with Phil. Not to mention that his face was now swelling like a balloon. An ugly purple balloon that was blocking vision in his left eye and desperately needed some ice on it.

Dan went to get said ice trying to think of things to do in the meantime. He was already planning on improving his suit. He wanted to make it more shock absorbent and perhaps make some power boosts for punches. While Dan typically liked to be evasive in combat, he was beginning to think he should have more options. He always like to take notes on how to improve the suits for the next crime. He also needed to work out how to make the thing more laser-proof. Dan would need more information on laser beams and that kind of information was hard to come by in a safe environment. Though he could work on some higher tech for the his mask instead. He could install something to record and analyze fights. He already had a version of Siri in it that told him when police were nearby. It couldn't be that hard to do.

At this point, Dan was buzzing with ideas. The options were endless and he wasn't short on funds. Although one idea in particular stuck with Dan.

He should mess with Phil.

Given, it was a stupid idea, but honestly he couldn’t get much worse than manhunt and an already furious Light Knight. With that in mind, Dan went on his computer and placed in an order.

#phanfiction #dip and pip #fanfiction #writing prompt

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mymethodmy · 3 years

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If you understand why people spend $4000 on shoes, your marketing strategy will change

One of my university classmates was the son of a fertilizer billionaire. We were in a marketing case class once, and we were delving into the issue of a particular denim brand whose pants cost more than $300. This wealthy friend informed me that anyone who spends $300 on pants genuinely needs anything besides jeans. I would never pay so much for just a pair of pants. It tickled me that this phrase came from a billionaire. The point, however, was valid. Nobody wants a piece of clothing when they pay 900% more for a pair of jeans than any other high-quality competitor. You may already have a few theories about why people spend their paycheck on a jacket, pants, or watch. Quality, durability, design, and customer service are just a few examples. They aren't all of them, though. Understanding why people buy ultra-expensive goods assisted me in understanding my own customers: budget backpackers. It will also help you with your marketing efforts. Customers are aware of their problems, but not always of the solutions. Henry Ford, a founder of Ford Motor Company, shared a remark made during a disagreement with a customer-research professional, frequently cited (with varying degrees of veracity). If I had asked what they wanted, they would have said faster horses. In reality, the point he made (if he said it) is verifiable. A shoe is a type of footwear that protects and supports the human foot. A $40 mass-produced but high-quality shoe could fill this role. On his wedding day, a junior diplomat meeting with a prime minister, or a young lawyer meeting with potential clients, on the other hand, may choose to invest in expensive, branded, or even handmade shoes. Why do they pay 100 times more for a nearly identical product? In the preceding example, the response could be validated. Confirmation is required by politicians and economists, for example. As a result, high-end accessories assist them in projecting a successful image. Will a Wall Street trainee reveal that he bought something to gain approval from his peers? Unlikely. The (supposed) quotation from Henry Ford was helpful in this case. How can we know what the client wants if we can't always rely on their responses to our questions about what they require? We must examine deeper into the human psyche. Unusually, what we're selling is in demand by customers. It's a byproduct of what we're selling. Although at first glance, they seem to be the same, there is a significant difference. A person purchasing a $4000 pair of shoes expects more foot protection and shelter than the $40 discount-store shoes provide. That, as well as something else, is what they seek. Something to compensate for the $3960 price difference. My first offering in one of my businesses (a consulting firm) was consulting sessions for expatriates in Europe and South America. After a while, I noticed that clients were concerned about wasting time and money by hiring a consultant hourly without knowing if we could solve their problem. As a result, we revised our proposal. Rather than selling consulting hours, we started marketing the guarantee that we would solve our clients' problems or they would not have to pay us a dime. Not only did this make our offer more appealing, but it also allowed us to raise our price. Our customers didn't want a consultant; they wanted peace of mind, which we now provide. This development was a watershed moment in the history of our company. How to Make the Most of Scarcity's Luxury Aspect in Your Business One of the most appealing – and contentious – reasons consumers buy expensive products is that they are scarce. Scarcity creates two consumer hooks at the same time: First, there is a sense of impending doom. Customers have little time to consider their options because the number of products available for purchase is limited. Before we spend money or resources, we fail to ask basic questions. This rush encourages people to shop on the spur of the moment, making less rational (but more emotional) choices. The second impression is one of exclusivity. The Veblen Good is an economic concept. Because of its one-of-a-kind nature and appeal as a status symbol, demand rises as prices rise. Unlike average items with a downward demand curve, Veblen goods have an uphill demand curve (where rising prices decrease demand). - Scarcity, on the other hand, must serve a purpose to entice customers. - Handcrafted shoes or purses as opposed to mass-produced in automated factories. - Cosmetics are made from unusual materials. - Concerts for a small number of people. - Doctors, lawyers, and other specialists only have so many hours in the day. Limited editions of automobiles were created to commemorate specific events, such as the Aston Martin created to celebrate the 25th James Bond film. - Make it clear to your customers if you have limited stock or hours of operation. It will work to your advantage (and theirs). My consulting firm's calendar, which shows the hours available for consultation sessions, emphasizes this scarcity. The website of my tourism hostel displays the public rooms, which are limited during peak season. - Clarifying that your products are limited will assist clients in understanding your availability and will benefit your marketing efforts. Conclusion: How the behaviors of premium clients can help budget backpackers and others understand themselves. Understanding why people buy expensive items is helpful for more than just selling costly items. In reality, it is a game-changer for any marketing campaign. It was for both of my businesses, an ex-pat consulting firm and a tourist hotel. The hostel case is intriguing because it shows how subtle customer decisions can be. It's a tourist in close to the airport. Many of our clientele consists of lay-out tourists who want to rest before their next flight or visit the city's old town. Our initial offer was for clean accommodations in a pleasant and relaxing setting. However, I quickly discovered that this was not the case for all of the customers. They also wanted to know that they wouldn't be late for their next flight, which we couldn't guarantee. This was a secret that neither our competitors nor we knew about. You Might Also Be Interested in: The Race to Market Share Nike VS Adidas Brand Analysis We've added a free airport shuttle to our standard package, ensuring that our customers arrive on time in comfortable automobiles for their next flight. This increased our appeal to the point where we raised the price by more than the "free" transfer cost. Consider the following: what are your clients' hidden desires? Rather than asking what customers want, inquire about the outcomes of their purchases. Nokia was defeated in the war against Samsung and Apple because it failed to recognize this. People do not purchase Disneyland vacation packages; they are buying the smiles on their children's faces. The general public does not purchase insurance. They function as a type of insurance. People do not buy Volvos; instead, they buy a vehicle with a better safety record. Fill in the blanks with the best answers you can. What is the most significant benefit that my customers get from the products I sell? The advantage of staying in an airport hotel, for example, is not to sleep in a room but to arrive refreshed on the next flight and destination, ready for a relaxing vacation. How can I create a sense of scarcity given my business constraints? For example, during peak hours, my consulting firm's online consultant calendar is disabled. Is there space available at my hostel, for example? What are my prospects' grievances, and how will I respond to them? One of my consulting firm's customers, for example, was concerned that we wouldn't be able to solve their problem and that they would be wasting their money. What is the craziest offer I can make (with a guarantee)? It's critical to remember that offering something unique from your competitors makes you more appealing. For example, I devised a promise for my consulting firm that we will not charge any fees until we can solve the problem. After you've answered them, use the data to exceed your customers' implicit desires, and you'll most likely be able to raise your prices. Read the full article

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singledarkshade · 6 years

Text

A Part Of Something

Part Two - Connections

Alex smiled proudly when Gideon managed to block each attack, “Well done. You’re getting better.”

Gideon nodded grabbing her water and taking a long drink.

“We’ll work some more tomorrow on this then start your weapons training,” Alex told her.

Gideon checked the time, “I need to change and get back to work.”

Alex watched her friend for a moment aware of the sadness she was trying to hide, “Have you talked to him yet?”

Gideon glanced at Alex before shrugging, “Why would I?”

“Because you’re miserable,” Alex replied folding her arms, “I know how much you love Rip and the fact you’re not talking to him hurts.”

Letting out a sigh Gideon shook her head, “He will not listen to me.”

“He’s worried about you,” Alex reminded her, “And he’s scared something will take you away from him again.”

Gideon slammed her hands on the table, “I know this, Alex but he also seems to think I am incapable of looking after myself. I was fine without him here.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Alex asked, “Ignore him forever? He wants to apologise.”

Shaking her head sadly Gideon gathered her things, “Even if he apologises it does not change how he sees me.”

“And how is that?”

“That I need to be protected,” Gideon replied annoyed, “I don’t, I never did.”

Alex sighed, “He loves you...”

“He loved Miranda but never treated her as anything less than capable,” Gideon snapped back.

Alex frowned not sure what to say before shaking her head, “It’s your choice, Gideon but in some ways by not talking to him you’re hurting yourself as much as you’re hurting him.”

*********************************************

Rip held onto Kara as they were all forced into the back room of the gallery, frowning in confusion – something wasn’t right.

“How do you feel?” Rip murmured as he sat them in a corner.

Kara looked up at his, “Weak.”

Seeing the fear in her eyes as the Kryptonite drained her of her powers Rip kept an arm around her.

“You’ll be fine,” he said softly, watching their captors standing talking, “Is it me or is there something odd about this.”

Kara looked around the room, “They’re not stealing from the guests and they don’t seem to be trying to steal anything from the gallery.”

“So why are they here?” Rip mused.

She sighed, “If I could hear them I could find out.”

“Don’t think about what we can’t do,” Rip told her, “Focus on what we can. You’re a reporter and you spend your life noticing things others don’t. Pay attention to everything.”

“What about you?” Kara whispered back.

Rip gave her a slight smile, “I spent my life looking for changes to the timeline. I can usually spot anomalies.”

Kara gripped his hand tightly, “Okay.”

“We stick together, Kara,” he told her, “I won’t let anything happen to you while you’re not your usual self just like you would never let anything happen to me when you are.”

Kara wanted to sleep.

Every part of her body ached with weariness and just wanted to curl up in her bed for the next week. At her side Rip was watching everything intently while he kept his arm wrapped around her shoulders comforting but also so they could talk without people noticing.

There were six people who had taken over the building, three men and three women. All had several weapons on them and a comm. link in their ear so they could talk to one another at all times.

Including herself and Rip there were twenty-five hostages, they could have had more if they’d come earlier as most people had left. Another mystery to add to the ones they already had - especially how they had managed to procure Kryptonite.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the leader suddenly spoke, a tall blonde woman with brown eyes, “I apologise for the inconvenience but you are now all our guests and here to witness the end of the vile creature who has invaded our world, Supergirl.”

“Vile seems a bit strong to describe you,” Rip murmured in Kara’s ear.

“However, the longer it takes for her to show herself and surrender to us then the more of you will die,” she continued.

“Do not even think about moving,” Rip muttered tightening his grip on her.

Kara looked up at him, “They will kill these people.”

“We won’t let that happen,” he replied, “We have time. They haven’t advertised their presence yet so once the DEO know what’s happening they’ll send help.”

Kara grimaced.

“Listen to me,” Rip said sternly, “Telling them who you are is not a good idea. Right now I have the ability to actually render you unconscious and I will take the chance of you breaking my arm later if you try to surrender yourself.”

She frowned but knew he wasn’t lying. Rip was extremely protective of the people he cared about and she knew, despite trying not to, Rip cared about her.

“What’s wrong with her?” one of the men suddenly demanded standing over them.

Rip glared at him, “She has food poisoning.”

The man let out a huff before walking on.

“Nice save,” Kara murmured to him.

Rip shrugged, “Same reason I ended up working here today.”

Looking up at him she squeezed his hand slightly tighter, “I’m glad you were.”

*********************************************

Gideon sat at her station going over the reports J’onn had asked her to review. She was tired because she wasn’t sleeping very well. Arguing with her Captain was something she had always done but when she had been an AI, and in control of his environment, Gideon could make him listen to her. Now she couldn’t get him to listen to her because all he did was try to wrap her in cotton wool and hide her away.

She missed Rip but right now she couldn’t keep fighting with him.

“Uh oh,” Winn’s voice made her turn to the man beside her, “We have a problem. J’onn, Alex, I need you guys here now.”

“What’s wrong?” Gideon asked.

Winn held up his hand asking her for patience until the other two arrived.

“Report, Mr Schott,” J’onn demanded the moment he and Alex reached them.

Winn grimaced bringing up a report, “Just received news that the Burnham Gallery has been taken over by hostiles and they’ve taken hostages. No idea how many of either, but they’re sending out one demand.”

“Which is?” Alex asked.

Winn grimaced, “For Supergirl to surrender to them.”

Alex frowned, “Well that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

“Does Kara know about this?” Gideon asked.

Winn shrugged, “No idea. She was at Cat Co last time I talked to her.”

“Which means she probably knows. Call her,” J’onn noted, “If she doesn’t answer call Olsen, find out where she is. You have something else, Gideon?”

“Cryptic Motto is hired a great deal for these types of functions,” Gideon said, “It is possible Deena may have some information on the party that was happening.”

J’onn nodded, “Good point. Call her too.”

Gideon took a breath hoping that it wasn’t Rip who answered the phone. She didn’t know if he was working having deliberately made sure she didn’t know his schedule.

“Cryptic Motto,” Deena answered to Gideon’s relief.

“Deena, this is Gideon,” she stated.

“Hi,” the other woman greeted, “Michael isn’t here just now.”

Relief filled her slightly, “I’m not looking to talk to him. I needed to check something with you.”

“Sure.”

“You are hired for parties, correct,” Gideon asked, relieved they’d given the back story that Gideon and Alex worked for the police when they first met her.

Deena chuckled, “It’s happening a lot lately.”

“Were you hired for the Burnham Gallery today?”

“Yes,” the reply was filled with questions, “Gideon, is something wrong?”

“Some people have taken over the Gallery taking hostages,” Gideon explained, “Can you check with whomever you had working if they are alright? We may need them to give us information.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, which Gideon had expected assuming Deena was checking the news.

“Oh, Gideon,” Deena suddenly came back on, “I’m sorry.”

Confusion and worry filled her, “What’s wrong?”

“Simon was meant to do the party,” Deena explained, “But he has food poisoning. Michael agreed to take over for me.”

Gideon felt all the air rush out of her lungs as she turned to the screen showing the leader of the terrorists stating that they would start executing hostages within the hour if Supergirl didn’t show.

“What’s wrong?” Alex demanded worriedly taking the phone from her.

Turning to her friend, Gideon whispered, “Rip is there.”

Alex quickly spoke with Deena before hanging up, her hand resting comfortingly on Gideon’s shoulder throughout.

“It gets worse,” Winn stated grimly, “Kara is already there. She was covering the opening for the paper.”

“Why is that bad?” Alex demanded.

Winn sighed, “Because the satellites show they’ve somehow got Kryptonite.”

*********************************************

Rip listened to their captors as they demanded Supergirl appear or they would start killing hostages.

They were out of time.

“Can you tell where the Kryptonite is?” Rip murmured to Kara, “Or anything about it?”

Kara shook her head, “No. I’ve never been able to sense anything except it hurts.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed, “But I’ve had enough of sitting here.”

Frowning slightly she whispered back, “What are you going to do, Rip? There are six of them, two of us and I’m completely useless.”

Rip grimaced slightly, falling silent as one of the men walked past them, “Do you remember when I worked on the Phoenix?”

Kara nodded.

“Well the first thing I did was disable the Time Drive but I am nothing if not extremely paranoid,” Rip shrugged, “I may have kept some parts and integrated them into my watch.”

Kara stared at him, “Why would you do that? I thought you trusted us.”

“I do,” he breathed, “But someone came after Gideon and I cannot let anyone hurt her. I need to be prepared.”

She grimaced for a second, “Okay, what’s your plan?”

“What I have will only move us a few minutes in time if we’re lucky but I should be able to transport us to another room,” he explained, “If I’m right it’ll take us to the basement. Hopefully it should be far enough away from the Kryptonite for your powers to return.”

Glancing around the room Kara nodded, “Do it.”

Rip knew revealing his little toy to Kara meant the rest of the DEO would find out but right now that was unimportant. Using his thumbnail he opened the small catch at the side of the watch and eased out the filament then connected it to make a temporary Time Courier.

“Hold onto me,” Rip told her, “This might feel strange.”

Kara followed his order as Rip activated the portal below them. They fell and the portal instantly closed behind them just as they slammed into the floor.

Rip stood helping Kara to her feet as he looked around at the sun filled room with the glass ceiling.

“Okay, not the basement,” Rip noted watching Kara close her eyes as she absorbed the sunlight, “But a much better location.”

“They’re going to notice we’re missing soon,” Kara said turning to him.

Rip nodded, “But as we’re now five minutes before we left we have some time. How do you feel?”

“Stronger,” she replied with a slight smile.

“Can you check where our friends are?” Rip asked.

Taking a deep breath Kara scanned the building below her, “There are four in the room with all the hostages, one in the main office and one just at the stairs. I think the one in the main office has the Kryptonite.”

“Does our friend at the stairs have any weapons?”

Kara nodded, “A gun and two knives.”

“I can use them,” he replied, “Once we’ve taken him out, I’ll go to the office and take out the one with the Kryptonite while you rescue everyone else.”

It had been some time since Rip had been in a proper fight. He specifically tried to keep away from things like that these days. He wanted a quiet life. Then again Rip did spend a lot of his free time in the gym making sure he was fit, so he wouldn’t just stand by and let people be hurt.

The man was surprised when Rip jumped over the banister above him meaning Rip’s first few blows were a shock giving them greater power. Within a minute Rip had knocked the other man unconscious taking the knives and gun before he turned to Kara who was watching him surprise in her eyes.

“I spent fifteen years on my own protecting the timeline, Kara,” Rip noted as he tucked the knives into his belt, “And I grew up on the streets. That was me being nice.”

Kara reached out and took his hand, “One day you’re going to sit and tell us everything you’re hiding.”

Squeezing her hand slightly, Rip shook his head, “You’re far too virtuous and noble to hear my full story. I’m not a good person, Kara.”

“I think Gideon and everyone you’ve ever saved would disagree with you,” Kara told him, “I know I do.”

Rip dropped his eyes becoming very interested in the gun he was holding.

“You’ve tried really hard not to be one of us,” Kara continued, “But it didn’t work. You’re basically my big brother now and I know Alex thinks of you that way too.”

At the acceptance of this young woman who embodied everything that was good and pure in the world Rip felt himself smile slightly. He’d not been accepted unconditionally in a long time.

“We have a job to do,” Rip broke the moment, “Let’s get these people to safety.”

Kara nodded, “How do you want me to carry you?”

He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Just fly.”

She grinned and lifted them into the air, Kara caught his hand when he let go of her swinging him through the window of the office before she headed to save the hostages.

Part Three - Opportunities

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #supergirl #alex danvers #kara danvers

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alexeiadrae · 6 years

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My Autism Awareness Post

Today I think I finally found a good school program for my son. He’s at a program where he gets 20 hours of Greenspan therapy a week, but he is aging out soon and finding something else for him has been challenging. The special education services through my school district were so horrible and abusive I had to pull him out when he was in pre-k. The thing was, it wasn’t just me having these issues. So many people in my city have pulled their autistic children out of the public schools because they were encountering what I was that the local autism group started a program for us. I toured it today and was impressed and feel like I’ve finally found something I was looking for. I have a lot of education and background in child development, and I am perpetually frustrated how in Texas EVERYTHING we know about child development is tossed out the window to focus on teaching children to take a test. And i honestly don’t think people outside of the state grasp just how bad it is here. So finally finding a school that is based on what we know about child development and that implements it was a relief. They also have drama classes, and my son is a budding actor, and guitar lessons, and since he’s seen Coco all he’s wanted to do is to learn to play the guitar. So we’re excited and relieved.

That said, I’m still angry and frustrated about a lot of things. I’m frustrated that to get my son a good education I have to go outside of the school system. I pay taxes to that system, supposedly so they will educate my children. I’m not anti-tax. I believe in creating services everyone can use and benefit from. And by law, my son is entitled to an equal education and classroom modifications. In reality, the schools break the law and refuse to implement these modifications, and they get away with it. I have yet to meet a parent who challenged the school system and won. Worse, because of the Trump administration, protections for children and adults with disabilities are being weakened and tossed out the window, and I’m going to stop there because it is so hurting and upsetting I can barely stand to think about it.

I am angry that I pay taxes for a school system that is harmful and abusive to people like my son. In addition, I pay thousands of dollars for therapy, and now I’m going to pay even more to send him to a private school. We’re having to ask my parents for assistance, but at least we can manage it. The financial price you pay for having a disabled child is steep, and in general, I feel people don’t give a fuck. They are too busy being glad it’s not them and moving on. Here’s the thing, everyone reading this is one car accident away from being disabled themselves and finding out for themselves how unfriendly society is to people like us. People with disabilities are the largest minority group in the US and it’s a group that anyone can enter in their lifetime, and one of the least protected.

Still, we’re lucky we have the resources to help my son. Other people don’t. I’ve worked with those parents who are impoverished and have autistic children. Their children are pretty much on the school to prison pipeline because they are punished for being disabled rather than given support and education. Witnessing this also gave me a lot of reasons for pulling my son out early. I knew how much worse it would get.

This is the other thing. A lot of companies are waking up to the fact that autistics are actually very good workers.They focus on their tasks well, don’t mind doing repetitive stuff, tend to be nonlinear thinkers who can problem solve in creative ways, etc, and that the workplace modifications they need are minimal and don’t cost much. Microsoft has a program to search for and hire autistic workers. And an autistic child’s chances of growing up and being able to be hired by a place like Microsoft grow when they are given a nurturing school environment that meets their needs, rather than shames them for not being “normal.”

As a society we can invest in autistic children now and reap that benefits of having a productive adult in the workforce, or we can skimp on the services and save money, now, but spend a LOT more of it when they are adults, whether by paying them disability or imprisoning them. And that this isn’t a simple, obvious decision on which way we should go infuriates me to no end. If schools would invest in autistic children, it would benefit everyone, but they don’t. So the families that can afford it find good places for their kids, those that can’t just have to suffer through.

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. My son is not a tragedy. I do not regret having him. He’s loving and funny and has light and laughter in his eyes, he’s a devoted and caring big brother, and he is smart. When I talk about autism awareness, it’s not to talk about how he’s horrible or how much my life sucks living with him, because neither of those are true. It’s to talk about how society is failing families like ours, and how that failure is hurting our society. We need to do better.

#autism #autism awareness

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