#at least i can enjoy your bland socially acceptable fear as you make a run for it

[psalmsofpsychosis]

[ angry rant ahead ]

you know, i usually dont talk to other people much in real life right now, even less so on the internet, it takes a lot to get me on the case of disco horses and other variants of supposed "discussions". It's a strange thing because i'm actually a quite talkative person, but also in the recent 5-6 years any and every kind of expression i've had, no matter how mild or colorful it was, people [who had already decided they hated my guts] used as an excuse to justify why "they were leaving me behind". It was always my fault that i was being treated like shit; they were just reacting sensibly to me being a fuckhead.

So i learnt to control and manage and frame and reframe my expression, not because i wanted to and liked it, but because of necessity— you can only afford to be left behind so many times before it starts damaging you emotionally, mentally, and physically in many aspects.

And i actually started developing severe physical symptoms because of how much i curated and leashed in my self expression— eating up 3/4th of what i actually wanted to say and spend so much fucking energy trying to script my thoughts and opinions in a way that would be oh so accomodating and considerate and soft-spoken and mild and non-threatening and harmless and agreeable so paper-skin-and-glass-bones fuckers online and offline dont feel threatened and start crying, or start biting me for "being rude" when all i did was to literally just open my mouth and form one or two sentences.

And i'm so insanely resentful about this. I'm resentful about constantly self censoring and watering down my expressions and forcing myself down to the level of other people the way grown ups squat to talk to a child so the child feels less threatened. Constantly writing and rewriting what i want to say so it's not "too antagonistic, too angry, too vicious, too confident, too anything" —"make it friendly, light, no-big-deal, agreeable, appropriate, acceptable to the rock bottom level boundaries of this context," the voice in my head says— when the truth is, i'm so so so much more than anything i've ever shown to people online and offline in the past 6 years. I'm full of hatred and rage and i'm shameless and i enjoy it too, i can hurt people terribly and i'm good at it and this is why i'm hellbent on kindness. It's a choice, i wake up and i make this choice every fucking day, and i dont like being taken for granted. I dont think most people truly understand what "where the light is brightest the shadows run deep" means, like no, you dont understand the depth of how fucked up i can be, you take my joy and delight for granted, and you cannot live up to either. You're not my equal on either front and you lack the substance it takes to mirror my happiness or my rage– and i get very irritated when people think they're on the same ground with me, "we're so alike!" no we're not, you just feel connected to the super mega easy digestable non-threatening responses i craft for you because i know you can't handle any more than this without having a mental breakdown and making me mom you.

Like, i solid feel like everytime i want to talk i have to put on kiddie gloves and do the kiddie talk, patting people's heads like "dont be scared, dont be scared, i'm a friend, no need to panic, now we're gonna play a game in which i give you super easy hints on life being more complex and deeper than you percieve it on a surface level and you proceed to think about that for 5 seconds everyday, easy, easy." Because that's what they are to me, children. I feel like i'm talking to children all the time, and no it's not about age, it's about the way most people are so incredibly shallow and superficial and simplistic and are so depth-averse it's kinda astounishing??? Like you'll find them hanging 6475378 adornments from every branch of a tree and thinking a tree is "a collection of leaves" and they never see the roots, or water them.

And yeah i'm so incredibly resentful about all of it. I feel like i put people in cute fun little floaties in the shallow end of the pool and stay with them and we play simple games and splash water at each other and they dont know the deep end of the pool exists, they dont care, they think everyone and them and me are kiddies playing in the shallow part, "oh you're just like me, we're all the same and having so much fun here," no, i'm so much more than you at any given point in this interaction, and what you sound like to me is a child mistaking their mother as "another playmate in the kindergarten".

And i'm super fucking tired of defanging and declawing my expression all the time so i dont spook the little dainty shallow people inside or outside my phone. "but they'll get scared and they'll leave!" and you know what? good. I want them to get very, very scared. And i want them to fucking run. I'm tired of trying to cater to simple people who i dont give a fuck about, people who are merely contemplating whether i'm worth loving or not. You walk into a haunted house only when you love ghosts and want to see one, this is not a space for the faint of heart. i am not a space for the faint of heart.

#half the stuff i want to talk about would scare you people back to the corner of your mom's bed #And everything y'all bring up is so extremely performative and hollow #and ''social points with the least amount of possible effort just to make you feel like you're included in the discussion #without having to do anything worthwhile'' #it makes half this website's blood halal to me to be honest. like you're freerange low effort sport hunt material to me #but i wont talk. because it's not fun or productive or meaningful in anyway to yell at children #but i miss being around actual grown ups. people who i dont have to simplify my talks for and set the cute kidtalk voice for #''please dont be threatened i dont mean bad—'' actually feel free to get very fucking threatened. #your comfort comes at the expense of mine and it means nothing to me. #at least i can enjoy your bland socially acceptable fear as you make a run for it #it's not like your lukewarm neutered ''somewhat interested'' kind of joy does anything for me either #because the same people who feel threatened by me are the exact same people who like to watch my joy from afar #like a cute performing circus monkey #but never contribute to or add to my joy in any meaningful way. #My excitement and affection and love is also just another product for you to consume and throw in the trashcan when you're fone with it #tagging this as #ENTP #Ne-Fe #because i know the very specific portion of fuckheads on earth who will get this #but also i think at this point i'd heal on a physical level if i could meet an ENTP E8 who'd do a screaming match with me

[lukethewitt]

Angel on the Underground - Chapter 1

I check the graffiti for updates every morning on my commute. Any wall in an area where people spend limited amounts of time is a target for anonymous artists, and it seems tube stations are a good place for the craft. Most of the graffiti I see recommends mononymous teenagers are experts in various vulgarities, with occasional third-person declarations of people’s sexuality provided in conjunction.

However, some graffiti is artistic, and while I would never dream of defacing public property in such a way, I couldn’t help but admire the dedication that went into some pieces. Some of them were detailed, some provocative and some dangerous. There was one vivid portrait which took up a full wall in a tunnel. That is to say that it hadn’t been scrawled on the tiles of an underground station, but rather someone had waited until the trains had stopped and run along the tracks with the sole purpose of creating a striking image which would only ever be seen through the window of an underground train rushing by.

I hoped that the artist had snuck in after the lines had closed, illegal though it may have been, because the alternative was either a construction worker vandalising the lines they were meant to be repairing, or that somebody was stupid and speedy enough to run along the tracks in the limited minutes between one train leaving and another one arriving. Either way, the graffitto’s perpetrator was clearly misinformed about how fast trains move, since nobody could see anything more than a grey blur as the train rushed by in less than a second.

One of the few perks of tube stations was the access to free newspapers. Copies of the Underground magazine were placed in stands at every station in London. They would often be taken quickly, and were mostly adverts, but it was common to see them strewn and abandoned on train seats, meaning practically every commuter had instant access to the same information. A second-hand paper was fine if all the new ones had run out, the only downside being the likelihood of scribbles and drawings of glasses, wings and occasionally genitalia on every picture of a person in a paper.

I read a news story about the ruins of the school I used to teach at. The school had burnt down in the years since I left and there was a plan to demolish the ruins and replace them with a shopping mall. It was a tragedy that the building was gone, but I’d always hoped they would rebuild on the existing plans. There were some fire-damaged walls still standing. If they weren’t stable, they could at least be replaced by new materials for the same structure. Replacing one of Britain’s remaining beautiful buildings (or the ruins of one) with another bland shopping centre was a sin.

Still, I didn’t know how much to believe. Underground was notorious for being rife with mistakes and puff pieces. Even in the short article about my former workplace, they’d incorrectly given the location as Oxfordshire instead of Cambridgeshire. Still, the fact that it was outside London and was being reported in the London press was evidence of how desperate they were for something to write about.

When I got off the tube, I had time for a sweeping glance at the graffiti in Borough Station before turning the corner to my office on Angel Place. The charity I worked for had picked that street in particular as it was a good area - loads of charities had their offices in the same few streets around Borough Station, so it meant any opportunities for joint fundraisers could be organised efficiently and quickly without the need to send people all over the city. The street’s name itself had connotations they liked. Lots of people who faced abuse from loved and trusted people credited their survival to their faith, and the charity saw themselves as saviours more than willing to accept the title of ‘angels’.

I personally rejected this label, as I felt it was wrong for a charity to brag about the good work they were doing, and instead felt we should be focussed on helping people and improving the work we do. If a charity existed solely to call themselves angels, it was nothing more than a vanity project.

They were called Reduce Abuse, and worked to raise awareness of and protect victims of abuse in all its varieties. I had been employed to deal with social media, specifically protecting those who had faced cyber bullying, which Reduce Abuse identified as the biggest growing threat, particularly amongst under-18s. A lot of my work involved responding to Facebook and Twitter messages, as well as emails and occasional phone calls. That is to say, messages from victims of abuse, not the abusive messages themselves. I’d been trained on the right advice to give, how to comfort and provide practical solutions. I liked to think I was doing good, but dealing with the business side of charity could make you cynical.

I spent the morning thinking about angels, about what makes someone good. Good and evil could be tricky things to define, but sometimes you met people who seemed like they could do no wrong. You could never be sure, as even the most trustworthy person could turn and stab you in the back. I liked to think I was good. Anywhere I saw a flaw in myself, I addressed it immediately. Anything I ever did wrong I apologised for, and I did anything I could to make amends.

In art and literature, angels were always depicted as having big wings like an albatross, and eyes as blue as azure. They dressed in white sheets and had halos over their heads. I suppose it was mostly religious symbolism, but I couldn’t see how the blue eyes fit into anything. They were just aesthetic features which seemed trusting. Someone with light blue eyes could never appear sinister. Both my ex-girlfriends had blue eyes. It fit, because they were both very nice people, and I believe we ended things on amicable terms.

I’m not entirely sure why I’d been given the role of Social Media Officer. I applied for any jobs that were going, and they assigned me to that one. I was really just looking for anything that could help me. I think they must have figured I was down to earth and understood young people, what with my previous experience working as a teacher. Whatever the reason, it suited me when I got it. As time went on and I got a great deal of experience, I also realised I became good at my job and was ideal at helping struggling youths. And then as more time passed, I became too good. I didn’t enjoy the work anymore. It was the same thing, day-in, day-out. I was bored, supremely bored.

Today was my annual review. Two years I’d been here. I would bemoan that I was stuck in the same job, but it was my own choosing, so there could be nobody to blame but myself. Besides, I never liked the blame game.

I liked my old job, but teaching was exhausting work. It was draining to watch children grow and learn and then to wave them goodbye and hope they went off into the big, bad world with all the preparation they needed to survive Earth. Evidently they didn’t, because I could swear half the people who called me up or messaged me at Reduce Abuse were former students.

‘In advance of this review, I asked you to fill in a form and mark up how well you think you’re doing,’ my boss told me. I had no idea why he told me this. We both knew he’d emailed me the form the previous day and I’d filled it in and emailed it back to him. Why did he need to begin by repeating himself?

He was a strange man. He had thin grey hair and was somewhat rotund, and insisted on making smalltalk to people who didn’t like him and had no wish to have any talk with him, regardless of length.

My boss at Reduce Abuse reminded me of my boss and mentor when I worked at the Moore Academy, an elderly man named Tristan Scimitar. They were both grey-haired and authoritative, although Tristan was more Henry V, while the man in front of me was more The Great Dictator. The other reason the man reminded me of Tristan was that he reminded me just how much I missed working under a competent manager.

As my current boss scanned over the form on his screen, he quietly trumpeted with his mouth and scowled, as if reviewing an alarming piece of medical research rather than a tedious piece of bureaucracy. ‘Hmm,’ he said, if that can indeed be called talking. ‘Very interesting.’

This was a lie. I’d answered ‘satisfactory’ to all the questions. Literally just gone down the sheet and ticked the middle box on all of them. When he reached the end of the document, he said, ‘I see for the first question, “How have you been working as part of a team?” you gave the answer…’ He scrolled up to the top of the page to read what answer I’d given, although this was purely for show, as we both knew I’d given the same answer for everything. ‘“Satisfactory”. Three out of five. I think we can bump that up to an “Exceeds Expectations”, don’t you?’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Well, the rest of the team seem to like you.’

‘They chuck things at me all day,’ I calmly pointed out.

‘They throw things to you, Trev. And they all checked to see that you could catch before having a throw-about.’

I said nothing.

‘If there were a question here about throwing and catching, I’d definitely put “Exceeds Expectations”. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. But you do have quite a remarkable rapport with the rest of the staff.’

I supposed that was true, but it didn’t make me happy. Lately the job was making me wonder why I ever quit teaching. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. Teaching was something I was passionate about, but it was draining. This job was one I wasn’t passionate about, and it was equally draining. Still, somewhere towards the end of my teaching career, my then-girlfriend and I had this ambition of moving to London and having a new start at a new stage of our lives. We lived in constant fear of stagnation. Now I was single and stagnant in a different pond.

‘“Are you able to prioritise and manage your workload?”’ he read. ‘Again, you’ve put “Satisfactory”. Again, I’ll put “Exceeds Expectations”.’

I wasn’t really sure that the answers quite corresponded to the question, but there was no room for deviation from the tick box regime.

‘Next question…’

I could sense we would be here for some time and I could already feel my eyes drooping as we reached the third question. By the time we were approaching the end, it felt as though I’d been trapped in the same dark office for a week. Still, I supposed that it was decent preparation for dealing with victims of abuse and their concerns if the staff subjected us to a rudimentary form of pscyhological torture ourselves.

‘“Would you say you conform—”’

Without warning, my boss picked up a pen and threw it over my head, and I instinctively caught it without even realising it had been thrown. He didn’t look up, but kept reading as if nothing had happened.

‘“—to standard rules of etiquette when dealing with callers on the phone?’ You’ve only put “Satisfactory”, but I’ll have to change that to “Exceeds Expectations”.’

Here he looked up at me for confirmation I agreed with his verdict, as well as to look at my hand, still raised above my head, grasping the pen he'd thrown. I lowered my arm and handed the pen back to him.

‘Extraordinary. You’ve got cat-like reflexes. Did you never think about doing something with them?’

‘Like what?’

‘I’m not saying you’re wasting your time here – obviously the work you do is important and you do it very well.’ He gestured towards the changes he’d made on the screen, despite me being sat opposite and unable to see a screen that was facing away from me. ‘But you could be a professional baseball player or something.’

‘Do you know of any professional baseball players in London?’

‘Do you know of any professional charity workers in London?’ he said back to me, evidently a failed attempt at a snappy comeback. When I started to list the names of other people who worked in our office, he clearly wasn’t amused and carried on through the evaluation form.

In the end, he changed all my “Satisfactory”s to “Exceeds Expectations”s. He had no comments. No feedback. No improvements. Nthing. Just to stay exactly the same forever. He sighed deeply. ‘Um, is there anything you want to say to me?’ he asked out of contractual obligation.

‘No. Is there anything you want to say to me?’

He frowned. Never one to pass up the opportunity to engage in the tedious exchanging of sound, he said, ‘I saw your old school is getting knocked down.’

I wasn’t really sure what to say to that. He must have been reading Underground today as well. Were we all just passing the time by checking the same filler stories in the same free magazine? That’s the trouble with taking the tube. There’s not really enough time to take out a book and read, but it’s a long enough journey to get bored.

‘That was your former school, wasn’t it? The Moore Academy? The school you taught at, I mean, not your school.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘I didn’t know it burnt down.’

‘Me neither.’ I guess I really was out of the loop. When I lived and worked out in Cambridgeshire, at the Moore Academy, my sphere of influence revolved around small-town drama. We always hated London for the way people lived in their own little bubble and ignored the rest of us, as though the United Kingdom ended when you reached the M25.

Now I was one of those Londoners, or at least a London-liver, I was part of that bubble and out of necessity I’d lost contact with the old bubble that was the Moore Academy. I couldn’t even tell you who still worked there. I suppose it’s probably a consequence of having both my ex-girlfriends working at the same school that I no longer followed their goings-on closely.

But had it really burnt down without even a whiff of the event making its way over to me? I once knew everyone in the area, now 100 km away, and now it was as though they were dead or in another country. I had become one of the ignorant.

Still, they had their own geographic pitfalls. If you ask something there about the lines and stations on the London Underground, they might have a vague idea, but those of us who live here know it intimately. Those tunnels are the veins and arteries transporting people through the city. More vital, perhaps. I know how to get from South Kenton to Stepney Green in the quickest possible time with the fewest changes, but I don’t actually know my own blood type.

‘Was anyone hurt?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How much is still standing?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, if there’s any of the original structure it would be a shame to demolish it for the sake of yet another shopping centre. It was a beautiful building.’

‘It really was.’

‘They never give you a lot of detail in the Underground, do they? And they said it was in Oxfordshire, not Cambridgeshire. Do they not have proofreaders anymore?’

‘Apparently not.’

‘It’s full of eye-grabbing headlines and tat, really. No proper journalism. I once saw an article in there about a seagull stealing a chihuahua.’

‘A chihuahua? What happened to it?’

‘The chihuahua? No idea. Oh, actually I think they said the seagull got tired and dropped it over a bridge.’

‘Over a bridge?’ My heart sank. ‘As in, over the edge of a bridge? Or on top? Was it…?’

He racked his brain. ‘They didn’t give a lot of details. Just enough to gather your interest and pick up the paper. But no depth. Anyway, let’s hope someone caught it.’

‘Let’s hope so.’

He grinned inappropriately. ‘It’s a shame you weren’t there. You would have caught it.’

‘I’m sure I would have.’

I took the tube back home at the end of the day, checking the graffiti at the station as I went, before shovelling down my dinner, crawling into bed and falling asleep in preparation for the same thing again tomorrow.

#novel #ya novels #novelist #story #writer #writing #writeaway #author #fiction #prose #weird #alternative #comedy #comic #prompt

[rahelawaters]

Prompt #1: Voracious

For @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast‘s #FFxivWrite2019 challenge.

Ao3 link here!

W'rahela was always a hungy child. But she possessed no strength to swing a sword or draw back a bow; she made for a poor huntress, and thus had to rely on her mother, W'yulhia, to feed her. But even then, W'yulhia had to contend with a great deal of obstacles to feed her family. Her hometown was at the very southernmost part of Thanalan; a pointed mesa known as the Gold Fang. It was one of the few settlements south of the Sagolii that still stood. The harbor at Cape Deadwind had been on the decline from pirate attacks even before the Calamity irrevocably wrecked the place and broke the earth, cutting off the entire region from the rest of Thanalan. The W tribe's rivals of the U did not help matters by competing for what little land prey was left. Most of Rahela's meagre childhood meals consisted of various fish from the sands and seas, and little else. Occasions when the W tribe huntresses were lucky enough to bring down sandworms and sundrakes were her idea of a lavish meal…

"And with that, I bid you enjoy the feast!"

Thus, the now up-and-coming adventurer sitting down for the royal feast held in her honor, could scarce believe her eyes at the sight of the impossibly rich banquet laid before her. More foods than she knew the names of lined the table of the Fragrant Chamber, filling her nose with more scents than she could describe. Steaming, freshly-baked bread rolls, with golden brown and bubbly crusts. Countless kinds of meat, some pink, some white, some dark brown, some in-between, all juicy and glistening. Roasted popotoes cut into bite-sized pieces, made colorful with green and red spices. Sauces and melted cheeses to pour over top of everything…

The anxiety she'd had at rubbing elbows with the Ul'dahn . Any and all reasoning that once resided within her brain was henceforth given to her appetite; she was a stormy vortex and all food within her arms' reach was going to disappear within her mouth. Eyeing the meats, she grabbed the biggest fork in front of her and speared slices of every kind onto her plate. With a spoon, she scooped up the popotoes. While her bare hands were all she needed for snatching the bread from its basket.

Her hand was a blur as she formed a small mountain onto her plate. Once she'd had a satisfactory pile, Rahela dug in. She began by taking a roll and chomping down, savoring the crackling crunch of the crust beneath her teeth, contrasted masterfully with the much softer warmth of the bread. One roll, and then two were quickly devoured, at which point she noticed a miniature plate containing a scoop of butter. The third and last roll was quickly sliced open, and a smattering of half-melted butter was smeared between the split before it closed again; Rahela practically purredat the difference that the addition had made in the flavor.

Next were the popotoes; the skin was crisp and salty, the spices giving mouthwatering flavors to what might otherwise be bland flesh. Even better, their compact size meant Rahela could stab three pieces upon a long-pronged fork and eat all three at once.

And the meats… Gods be good, the meats… The tastes of them defied all description. She could never, ever, ever go back to eating fish after this.

Her reverie abruptly ended mid-chew when she chanced to open her eyes and see a masked lalafell looking right at her. The upturn of his mustache indicated that he was… sneering at her. Rahela stared back, confused, unconsciously swallowing her mouthful.

"Your Grace," the masked lalafell said, leisurely turning his head in Nanamo's direction. "I accept that this banquet is meant to hail this, ah… this 'lady' adventurer as a savior of Ul'dah, and is meant to cater to her limited palate. But I ask you all, must we really watch her gorge herself with such reckless abandon?"

"Wh-- huh?" Rahela froze, her ears folding back. Was she doing something wrong? And did he really use air quotes when he called her a lady? What was he saying? "I-I, I was just, I, I…"

"Lord Lolorito," Nanamo spoke up, her voice even, but icy cold. "I ask that you refrain from mocking our guest of honor at her own banquet."

Lolorito? The man who tried to have Wystan killed for wanting to help the poor? The man who terrified Rahela into hanging up her staff for a week, and nearly forever, for fear that the same would happen to her? THAT Lolorito?!

The monetarist goes on, not reacting to the sudden, visible fear that had gripped the adventurer. "Then I ask that the guest of honor act in a manner that reflects as much. I can hear her chewing from here, and her elbows are on the table. Scrawny as she is, I suppose I could tolerate her simply eating quickly; but honestly, I've seen swine with better table manners."

"I fear that not all of us have been entrenched in etiquette lessons since before we could talk," Nanamo deadpanned. "If the sight of a hero vigorously enjoying a well-earned meal is so unbearable for you to watch, then don't."

It seemed that Lolorito had run out of motivation to argue the point any further, because he said nothing else. Despite the mask covering his face, Rahela could still feel him glowering at her. And now, thanks to the scene he made, she could feel the stares of everyone in the room. She'd made a fool of herself in front of the entire upper class of Ul'dah, just by eating in front of them. By not knowing unspoken rules that nobody told her existed. Just by existing and enjoying a nice meal, she was an embarrassment…

The spiral of anxiety was abruptly ended with the sound of a low belch directly next to her. And immediately all the judgemental stares were drawn away from her, and honed in on the source of the noise.

Rahela blinked, and turned her head to the one sitting at her right. The source of the belch was a young midlander man with slicked-back, snow-white hair; there was something familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. He held a cloth napkin to his mouth, and then cleared his throat. "Do excuse me; the meal was so exquisite that I forgot myself."

That voice! Rahela felt a warmth in her cheeks; she didn't recognize Thancred with  lowered the napkin from his face, and took the briefest moment to give her a knowing wink.

"But what's a little faux pas between friends?" He punctuated with a shrug, and a disarming laugh. The tension in the air remained, but it passed into simple awkwardness as the dinner guests returned to their meals and conversations amongst themselves.

She'd been eating like a slob in front of Ul'dahn high society, and in front of her crush… Thankfully, he seemed to be on her side; and so did the Sultana. But Nanamo was on the other end of the table and Rahela at least knew enough that yelling her thanks across the table would not help matters. But, her mind digressed. "Thancred, I, uh, I, I didn't…"

With a smile, Thancred crossed his arms in his chair. "I wanted so badly to remind him that it was the Monetarist vote that was prevented the Sultanate from giving aid to Cape Deadwind after the Calamity and accelerating its decline into poverty. But I doubt you would appreciate my telling him where your family lives. So instead I opted for the diversion."

"I…" Rahela wanted to say more, but no words would come to her. Instead, all she could communicate was a simple, "Thank you."

"'Twould be remiss of me to sit by and let that bastard humiliate you," he reassured.

"But, Lo--"

"Don't mind him, or any of them. This is your feast, not theirs."

Rahela knew he was right, but… "Still, I went overboard, and made a slob of myself in front of everyone here…"

"And? So what if you did?" The bard shrugged. "A man of my occupation has seen his fair share of well-to-do social events. Etiquette is important for keeping up appearances and blending in, but it's all performative. No need to be self-conscious, friend. Truly, I understand."

"Understand what?"

"Being excited at the prospect of having access to more food than you've ever had in your life," he explained. "For them, a feast like this is nothing; they eat this well all the time. But for starvelings who've never seen so much food in one place, freely offered to them? It's an experience beyond all our imagination. Don't let the upper crust snobs ruin this for you."

(In the din of the room, Rahela didn't catch onto the meaning of Thancred's use of 'our'.)

"In fact, allow me to make your feast even more indulgent…" Pulling some roast popotoes from the pile and putting them onto a small plate, Thancred poured a thick cheese sauce over them, letting it drape over them, followed closely by another, thinner brown sauce. He then nudged the completed dish towards Rahela. "There we are. Popotoes, combined with cheese and gravy; or to call it by its proper name, poutine. You are welcome."

She looked to him, then back to the dish. Scooping up a spoonful of this new dish, she lifted it to her mouth, and… By the gods, he was right; all the flavors she loved in the popotoes combined with delicious cheese and meaty gravy? Somewhere deep within her throat came a high-pitched squeal as she chewed, the look on her face akin to one who'd just reached the Seventh Heaven.

"The only thing I would advise regarding your eating," Thancred advised, while watching her reactions with a crooked smile, "is that you pace yourself. And save room for dessert, of course."

Rahela's ears perked up and her eyes flew open. "There's dessert?!"

"If I know Her Impetuousness' sweet tooth, most certainly."

#ffxivwrite2019

[big-tony]

1-100 hoe

I hate you so much.

1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?

Spotify for sure

3. what color are your eyes?

Ugly ass brown

6. describe your personality in 3 words or less

Really obnoxious

8. what kind of car do you drive? color?

I have a black 2013 Nissan Altima 

9. where do you shop?

As much as I hate them, I do most of my shopping on Amazon. I’ve started using Thrift Books when I buy books, but I also want to start going to local bookstores since some have opened up nearby.

10. how would you describe your style?

The stereotypical person who listens exclusively to music on Bandcamp but doesn’t want to commit to buying clothes at Goodwill

11. favorite social media account

Tumblr but I’m kind of warming up to Twitter

13. any siblings?

Yeah I have an older sister

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

I would say at this stage in my life I would like to live in Spain or Argentina. I’d really like to just be somewhere out of North America where I can speak Spanish all the time. I feel like it would be a nice change of pace

15. favorite snapchat filter? 

I deleted snap like four months ago but I really liked the one that just hid all of your blemishes lmao

17. how many times a week do you shower?

Like 10-12 on average

18. favorite tv show?

Either Eric Andre or the Twilight Zone

19. shoe size?

16 which makes shopping for shoes impossible

20. how tall are you?

6′5″

21. sandals or sneakers? 

Sneakers. I only wear sandals if I’m running somewhere for less than 30 minutes

22. do you go to the gym? 

I kind of neglected that this semester but before that I was going about 5 days a week

24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

$5 lmao

25. what color socks are you wearing? 

White

26. how many pillows do you sleep with?

Just two I don’t like having too many

27. do you have a job? what do you do? 

Not rn I just finished up working as a research assistant and I’ll be applying for that position again this summer

28. how many friends do you have? 

idk if I had to guess somewhere around 30 but I see about 10 of them weekly the rest kind of rotate in and out

29. whats the worst thing you have ever done? 

This girl was going to sit down when I was in high school and I thought it would be funny to pull the chair out from under her. It was not particularly funny and it still haunts me because it was so unnecessarily mean

30. whats your favorite candle scent? 

Fuck I don’t know what it’s called but when I’m home for the holidays my parents always burn this one candle that just reminds me of Christmas. Very cinnamon-y but also smells like pine needles

31. 3 favorite boy names

James, Antonio, David

32. 3 favorite girl names

Autumn, McKenzie, Maria

33. favorite actor? 

I don’t think I watch enough movies to have a strong opinion on this one

34. favorite actress? 

Same

35. who is your celebrity crush?

Shakira for sure

36. favorite movie? 

I watch so few movies that my favorite movie is basically the last good movie I watched so I’d say Madeinusa. If we’re going for movies that are so bad that they’re awesome I’d say Bloodsport

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? 

Yeah I love reading! I’d say it’s tied between The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway and 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

38. money or brains? 

Brains for sure

39. do you have a nickname? what is it? 

People used to call me Chief Keef all the time but I don’t have one anymore

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?

I think like when I was born was the only time lol

41. top 10 favorite songs

In no particular order:

Smashing Pumpkins - 1979

Sun Kil Moon - Pancho Villa

Algernon Cadwallader - Fun

American Football - Stay Home

Shakira - Se Quiere, Se Mata

Sun Kil Moon - Micheline

Sufjan Stevens - Impossible Soul

The Microphones - The Glow, Pt. 2

Frank Dominguez & Elena Burke - Imágenes

Sufjan Stevens - Romulus

42. do you take any medications daily? 

Nah

43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

I’d say pretty oily I have to shower the moment I wake up because my hair looks like a mess from the oil

44. what is your biggest fear? 

Heights

45. how many kids do you want? 

If I decide I want kids, probably just one

46. whats your go to hair style?

I like to keep it pretty short and put some gel in it it’s pretty basic

47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) 

I live in an apartment right now but my parents’ house is kind of small compared to all my friends’ growing up.

48. who is your role model? 

I try not to have a role model per se because every time I learn about famous people they disappoint me in one way or another. I had a lot of respect for Anthony Bourdain though

49. what was the last compliment you received?

My friend told me yesterday that I’ve made a lot of positive changes in my life this past month, which meant a lot to me

50. what was the last text you sent?

“Dead af” which is pretty par for the course

51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

I think I was 9 when I decided he didn’t exist. No one really confirmed or denied it until I was like 12

52. what is your dream car? 

I used to say corvette but I can’t fit in one lol

53. opinion on smoking?

I can’t really get on a high horse about it because I smoke when I’m very drunk but I don’t enjoy the really strong smell of a smoker’s house

54. do you go to college? 

Yeah! I’m studying history and Spanish and I should be graduating spring 2020

55. what is your dream job? 

I want to be a professor and hopefully teach Latin American history

56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? 

Since my indie folk days are behind me, suburbs for sure

57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? 

No my hair seems to hate those so I have to bring my own shampoo when I go places

58. do you have freckles? 

nah

59. do you smile for pictures?

Yeah I like my smile a lot so

60. how many pictures do you have on your phone? 

1629 according to my camera roll

61. have you ever peed in the woods? 

Oh yeah absolutely

62. do you still watch cartoons? 

I keep up with Steven Universe by force of habit but otherwise no

63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

McDonald’s. Wendy’s chicken nuggets are whack

64. Favorite dipping sauce? 

Chick-Fil-A sauce

65. what do you wear to bed? 

Basketball shorts

66. have you ever won a spelling bee?

I won this in-class one and they asked me to go to the school-wide one but I didn’t go

67. what are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, and learning languages mostly. I’d like to get more social hobbies at some point like get into playing pool but I haven’t gotten around to it

68. can you draw? 

Oh hell no. I tried super hard up until like 7th grade and then I accepted fate

69. do you play an instrument?

I am trying to learn the banjo but I need to get more consistent

70. what was the last concert you saw? 

I saw Fleet Foxes in March, which was an amazing show. I missed American Football in August which I’m still really upset about

71. tea or coffee?

Coffee, though I’d like to learn more about tea

72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Dunkin Donuts just because it’s cheaper

73. do you want to get married?

Yeah I have a crippling fear of ending up alone lmao

74. what is your crush’s first and last initial?

I don’t really have a crush but the girl I’m seeing’s initials are BS which is interesting to say the least

75. are you going to change your last name when you get married? 

No but I probably should because my last name is bland af

76. what color looks best on you? 

I think I look good in a deep purple

77. do you miss anyone right now? 

Unfortunately yes but I’m getting over it slowly

78. do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Closed. I have this irrational fear that I will wake up and someone is watching me, but in all reality an unlocked door won’t stop them if that’s what it is going to come to

79. do you believe in ghosts?

Nah

80. what is your biggest pet peeve? 

People who read, watch, or hear something slightly out of the ordinary and go “WOW I WONDER HOW MANY DRUGS THEY MUST HAVE BEEN ON TO COME UP WITH THAT”

81. last person you called`

My parents like two hours ago

82. favorite ice cream flavor? 

Cookies and cream

83. regular oreos or golden oreos? 

Regular, I didn’t know people liked the golden ones

84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? 

Rainbow

85. what shirt are you wearing? 

A UCF football shirt! Go Knights

86. what is your phone background?

Salamovka at Night (Judy’s Window Lit) by Lois Dodd

87. are you outgoing or shy?

Very outgoing lol

88. do you like it when people play with your hair?

Ugh I love it so much

89. do you like your neighbors? 

Never talked to em but they’re quiet so I can’t complain

90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

Yeah before bed and after my shower

91. have you ever been high? 

Many times

92. have you ever been drunk? 

Many times

93. last thing you ate? 

I got a chicken tender sub at Publix!

94. favorite lyrics right now

Don’t leave home, again

If empathy takes energy

‘Cause everyone feels just like you

But that’s life, it’s so social

95. summer or winter? 

Winter because I like when it’s a bit chillier, even though Florida does not get very cold. It’s been in the 40s and 50s this week which has been incredible and I wish we had more days like that.

96. day or night? 

I like the night during summer and the day during winter. 

97. dark, milk, or white chocolate? 

Milk chocolate

98. favorite month? 

October

99. what is your zodiac sign

Libra

100. who was the last person you cried in front of? 

My ex-girlfriend about three years ago.

I still hate you for this.

[mi5016erinhall]

Analysis Draft - First Draft

- reflect on skill are

- aspirations

- what youve done for module

- ethics - speak about them??? maybe (after easter??? maybe second draft) style? racism? LGBTA+ issues? Don’t be offensive. Working hours (can apply to self now - don’t burn yourself out stooopid), how set up work space - dont mix with play. Being mindful of social presence and intellectual stuff.

weave it in, but in a cool way

----------------------------------

In this reflective analysis I will be analyzing the skills I have developed over the length of this course and how they can be applied in the industry I aspire to enter. 

For aspirations, I am incredibly interested in the pre-production stages of animation in movies, games, and the creative process behind designs in general. While I’d largely like to explore that wide berth instead of focusing solely on one aspect of the pre-production stage, I’d like to have a stronger suite in the pre-production industry that I’d favour more than the others, and am particularly looking at character design and concept art for this, due to a passionate interest I have for these; which is often found in my collection of concept books from any piece of media I find interesting, be it narrative wise or visually. I’m also particularly interested in the designs behind mounts used in games, partially due to having a background in handling horses and horse riding. Apart from character design and concept, I am also interested in the creative process behind script writing and storyboarding, somethings I have some minor experience with over the course of my education through filmography and past modules in this course.

Aside from pre-production, I do also hold interest I’d like to pursue in the comic industry, although I’d probably in interested in this more as the occasional job, or on the side of concept work, and possibly leaning towards being an occasional guest artist for comics I’m interested in, which I’m currently looking into via the online means of both creating fan-generated art inspired by webcomics I follow, and to create my own short webcomic over the summer. 

As well as building my own narrative pieces, I have also been looking into various companies whose work I’d admire, and mentally planning what working for them could involve and how to appeal to them, something I had originally only considered in passing before this course before developing further and broadening my search for companies that inspire me or I could work for; such as the local companies, like Atomhawk, or Ubisoft’s Gateshead team. Over the course of this module I have began to explore other companies and have attempted to see patterns for the type of work I’d like to do in the UK and other countries, including finding out that, aside from the large concept demand in London, there’s also some demand for concept artists in Glasgow, Horsesham and Guildford in the United Kingdom, as well as looking at two companies in Ireland - Cartoon Saloon (a company I’d idolized and followed on social media for a while) and another, smaller company; PaulKavanagh Studio, suggested to me by a speaker (Neil Bushnell), both of which I’m looking into.

One important aspect of making myself attractive to companies that this modules really helped to educate me on was how to conduct myself online, as well as how to interact with companies in a way that isn’t negative to my budding reputation. Particularly, what I enjoyed learning about was that simply following and interacting with a companies social media could lead to a possible job, or at the very least the company taking notice of you, and the very important lesson of ‘treating people like people’ which I feel like is something that can be easily forgotten in this industry, and that simply just being friendly and a pleasant person to other employees of companies and employers alike actually helps with building up trust and getting your name our there as well as simply, gaining new industry friends that I can also pitch work for them. 

This module also delved into how to create CV’s, alongside online presence (of which I had on a more personal level, but needed to expanded on a professional level with a Vimeo, LinkedIn, Tumblr, Twitter and any other account I could dedicated to art projects and for behaving more appropriately for a professional environment  than how I would behave on my personal accounts). While I had some minor experience with CVs, the idea of a colorful or creative CV was completely foreign, so it was a wonder to see this module show that is is actually acceptable to be more creative with CVs, and that they don’t have to be the originally ‘bland and serious’ looking CVs I was handing out.

To return to the subject of behaviour online, this module also got me thinking more about the ethics surrounding what my work could become, I’d like to say I constantly strive towards being ethical with my work and representations, but this module really helped to show the variety of things I must be aware of, especially as I am interested in the design and pre-production section of the industry, and that, while mistakes can happen, simply correcting them and looking out for them in future, is often the best path, as well as getting second, or third opinions, particularly from individuals whom could be hurt by content if it should be used unethically, either intentionally or not - as, once again, accidents and mistakes happen, but the positive impact of a well done representation that everyone is phenomenal (something I am aware of from personal experience of finding character in fiction that represent aspects of myself well and the confidence and strong loyalty to the company/artist that can come from that). And the ethical work doesn’t just focus on the misrepresentation of identities, but on work hours and environment, something I have been trying to manage - by setting up schedules to follow with allowing at least one rest day during crunch periods at university, and the knowledge that in the long run, to be healthy with good work is better than being ill with great work! Alongside maintaining a good, clean, and safe work environment.

To further put my name out there, I have been slowly trying to just put more art and animation out there, in the past I have been very reserved about doing pieces, fearing that a company may find me ‘testing out their style’ or even drawing/animating something from a franchise they have to be obnoxious or negative on my reputation, despite being shown in a community art show/stream a few years back for a game I love. I’ve recently been trying to break out of this mold of only doing art when asked to, as bizarre as it may seem, and to just have fun exploring and putting work out more frequently instead of passing my work off as redundant - and have slowly been posting more polished pieces (and some more humerus pieces) to document what I am capable of and how I’m developing outside of university and work, as well as gaining the confidence to try out a style of artist and companies I admire to, not only get my name out there to said artist/company, but to just have some fun exploring.

----------------

edits to be made:

Fix structure

Knock out words

Look at language

Say how you’ve done what you’ve said you’re doing

Maybe talk about ettic 

Separate and work on structure

FULL STOPS

explain thoughts on ethics in workplace first THEN delve into what I’ve done

Explain mistakes that can occur in ethics. Explain that I’ll not do that

Turn brackets into proper sentences 

Put my thoughts on ethics first 

Change alongside, relate to what I’m doing (ask mum about health and safety)

Rephrase ‘to put my name out there’ and 'to promote myself’ 

Been developing portfolio and making visible online (online presence section) mention polishing 

Check spelling!!!!