#his body language is never congruent with what he or his face is saying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vminity21 · 4 years

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Whimsical | knj

Pairing: Student!Namjoon x female!reader

Genre: fluff/mildangst

Word Count: 4,788

Warning(s): mild language use, slight angst involving the struggles of adulting, tooth rotting fluff, Rating: pg

Summary: Living paycheck to paycheck after moving to Gyeongju has done nothing but plague a bundle of stress upon you. Deciding to take a stroll where the cherry blossoms abundantly bloom, you did not expect to run into an acquaintance of the past; and you definitely did not expect the measure he takes to make sure your burdens are lifted off your shoulders.

“What do you mean it costs this much?” When shock mingling with frustration forms into an exasperated sigh, your hand rakes through your hair in disbelief portraying the definition of stress in its purest authenticity. Your fingers that are curled around the auto insurance bill leave small indents behind when the dreaded piece of paper is now being placed upon the table. “Damnit,” tears flood your eyes while your palms shadow over your cheeks. You have already set money aside to save for the rent for your apartment along with your car payment as well as savings toward your electricity cost. Today, the discovery of your current expense being fifty more dollars than usual means that, yet another week goes by with surviving off the little groceries you have left stored in your pantry.

Shoving out of your jacket, the light air of spring has begun, and for once, you would like to appreciate nature without the anxious feeling of life overwhelming your mind. Eyes scanning the vacancy of your apartment, loneliness returns, and the yearn to hear your mother’s voice has never felt so painful. It has only been six months since you moved hours away for a job offer that you felt would be a good opportunity to further you into the career you have sought for. But, never in your existence did you dream that living paycheck to paycheck could bring so much misery, and hardly being able to speak to your mother has been weighing heavy on your conscious, but your determination to make her proud is what matters to you the most.

The jingle of your keys resonates the living room congruent with the shift of your feet wiggling into your tennis shoes. If there is anywhere you want to be right now, it’s not in this apartment, not near the opened envelopes of woe, not near your bedroom that reminds you of your exhaustion, and not near the refrigerator that is empty of any content that can fill your tummy. The drive to the local park flourishing with pinks and whites of cherry blossoms comes into view quicker than you anticipate, and with schools being in session, the area is not as crowded as it would be on the weekends. Petals float in the wind, swooping to the ground to paint the cement with color- your footsteps slow when the tunnel of tree branches exuberates perfumes of the florets to ease your tense frame.

You return to work tomorrow, but gratefully there is plenty of hours left in the day to explore, and with the solace of the atmosphere, it feels nice to escape from the turmoil of watching your paycheck disappear in order to live. A bench appears further into the path, mahogany tint with protruding sunlight breaking through the trees. Memories of what you consider your ‘past life’ churns with images of times where your grandfather shared stories of his childhood speaking lines of wisdom that encouraged you to be the person that you will and have become. He was the first soul to bring you to a park when you were younger, giving you a tour of what all there was to see- your almond eyes widened with wonder, gripping his hand while you would point out all the sights.

You miss those days more than you will profess, wishing you can relive them especially with what you have been enduring since your move. Gaze dropping to your shoes, hands in pockets- you gasp in surprise when your shoulder meets the figure of someone walking from the opposite direction,

“I’m sorry!” Panic is etched in your voice while you swiftly bow, a blush creeping to your cheeks in embarrassment when your steps quicken along the path. The tone belongs to a man who apologizes in return, yet your eyes keep their focus away from him; you’re very timid, something you’ve struggled with since the day you were born, and it’s hard enough to face your fears as it is, and uncertain on if the stranger would have been angry with you, you find it best to pretend it never happened. At least here, you feel safe alongside nature, and when the familiar sound of a rippling lake perks your auditory senses, a small tug of relief pulls at the corner of your lips, and the earlier chagrin of interrupting someone on their tread will no longer disturb your meditation.

Something seems familiar about this place. Blusterous winds streaming through strands of your hair that tickle your shoulders beneath the blinding rays of the sun where grass pokes at your legs that are exposed from the end of your dress wrinkled upon your thighs. Cumulus clouds keep their distance from the beams flickering immensely within the blanket of blue, brightening the vibrancy of yellow flowers swaying beside stems of rubicund leaflets enhancing the field in iridescent whispers of delicacy.

You have seen this all before somewhere in the slumbers of imagination where your heart aches for peace such as this. Steeps of ornate mountains encompass the field in lavender shades collecting the finishing touches of scenery your dreams desire. But, there is something different. Rather, the sense that you are alone diminishes which prompts your vision to parade the panorama of daylight until a figure enters a distance ahead of you. A pile of wispy, light hair clears to reveal a man, eyes closed- the backs of his hands posed upon his knees leading to his fingers aimed upward mirroring the position you are in. How he seems so close when he is far away startles you even while you memorize the sight of his thick lips lying in a straight line of content.

Your head tilts in profound concentration of where you may have seen him- where you may have known him, but you come up empty, for here in this world of tranquility, you have not seen him here before. There is a strange ponder of wanting to rise to your feet, but you lean forward instead, observing the slow rise and fall of his chest where he breathes in and out deeply. He is clothed in white, darkening his already tanned skin- your stare tracing from his neck to see his face once more, and when your lids squint to study him,

He opens his eyes-

“Ma’am? Ma’am,” the echo of a calm voice breaks through enough to awaken your bleary eyes, “Ma’am, are you okay?” Drool gathered at the corner of your mouth you swipe with the hem of your sleeve; your eyes are sensitive from how bright it is outside, and it takes a moment for them to adjust once you turn your head gradually in order to remember where you are. The flowing trickles of water, the soreness of your back scratching from the log of a tree, and the soft squeeze of a large hand on your shoulder alarms you enough to realize you fell asleep while reminiscing at the lake.

You refrain from cursing under your breath when nerves shoot through your veins, gathering yourself enough to look at whoever is hovering above you. Stuttering to find words, you weakly accept the strong hand offered to you to help you up. Concern is etched in the shape of brown irises reading your stare while nostalgia fogs your brain. “Do I- do I know you?” Your voice is hardly a murmur, but he timidly steps away, the familiarity of his face bringing a quiet gasp to your parting lips.

“We, uh, we um, ran into each other earlier,”

“Oh no,” shame shudders your shoulders when you press your forehead into your palm to lightly rub your eyes, “God, I’m so sorry-”

“No, no it’s okay! Really, it’s okay. It was an accident-”

“I should have watched where I was going-”

“Well, I should have, too.”

With a creased forehead, your body is still recovering from your unexpected nap, and you’re trying to feign bravery to return your eyes to the stranger whose hair is hidden within a black beanie, yet blonde tufts brush the tips of his ears. Dimples illuminate his rising cheeks from the tiny grin embellishing his expression, and dialogue disappears from your tongue at the noticing of how exquisite he is.

“Kim Namjoon,” his large hand swallows yours as it did minutes ago, but this time in a polite shake of greeting.

“I’m [Y/N],” you nod seeing his grin widen to cause a silent sweep of relief to your system.

“Wait a minute,” your eyelids enlarge from the recognition now embracing your thoughts. Flashbacks from high school smother you immediately when the images of a quiet persona who sauntered the hallways with the intelligence of an Einstein clicks on a lightbulb subconsciously. “I do know you, we-” wetting your lips, you stammer in fear of being wrong, “We went to the same grade school. You- you beat me at the math competition! Wh- what brings you to Gyeongju?”

“College,” his voice is shaky for you to jolt at the realization that you are still shaking his hand- roughly you might add, awkwardly releasing to return your limb to your side. It’s already humiliating enough to stand before him after plummeting into his side when first arriving to this destination, to then making a fool of yourself sleeping in front of him to also awaken to ruin all ounce of potential conversation you could have had. Preparing yourself for the worst, you wince, wishing you could slip under the covers of your bedroom to hide away forever. “What about you? Are you attending University here, too?”

“I- erm, about that-” There is not a way for you to explain, because there isn’t much to say other than your heart belonged to another career path. “I received a job offer here. One that I thought would provide good benefits than my original plan, but it’s not what I expected,” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow igniting a surge in frantic slews of sentences from your mouth, “I mean, I love it. I really do, it’s- it’s what I love to do, but I guess- I want- I want more from it. But I don’t know how to- I-” Warm chuckles leave his lips that halts your rambling in a heartbeat, “I talk way too much, I’m sorry-”

“You’re not talking too much. You’re fine, I promise.” a brief spark settles a reminder of your budding attraction toward him that your chest heats with a dark hue of red; your arms slide to cross over your chest in an attempt at hugging yourself- timorously beaming up at him to search his tender gaze. “You know, if you’re up for it, there’s a restaurant not too far from here that has the best pasta I’ve ever had,” Namjoon’s fingers disappear into the pockets of his jeans- nervously rocking on his heels because after all these years he never thought he would run into anyone he once acquainted with in his younger days, but here you are, standing before him in all your glory. You were someone he admired from afar who treated him as though he was part of the team versus an outcast as others preferred him to be. But you were different. You never saw anyone as below you, and though the pair of you never blossomed into a friendship, you at least treated him with kindness despite the rumors pupils whispered in the foyers. “I already planned on going there today actually-”

“I’d love to!” Your fingertips shut your lips from the excitement you didn’t mean to interrupt him with, “I mean, I uh, I’d- I’d like that very much, thank you,”

It’s strange how the imagination of a world can seem so real, and the awareness of how close he is bringing flutters of butterflies within your stomach while your ears tune in to the scuffling sounds of your footsteps prodding along the route. No matter how hard you contemplate, whatever vision you had at the lake isn’t coming to you, but the consistent feeling that you’re experiencing brings the suspicion that whatever you dreamt is now becoming a reality.

The air is calmed in a manner that reflects a pleasant silence where your focus happens to remain on the cold mush of fibrous moss gathering between your fingers. Eyes are closed momentarily yet the hint of the sun is evident, but the source of your confusion isn’t from the odd wonder of why your hands are gripping the earth, instead, it is for the question of why your back is pressed to the ground as though you have fallen into slumber.

Blinking open to the blue of the sky, you are paused for only a mere moment to discover this time, sparse altocumulus clouds entering your vision enough to ease yourself to sit up. Freeing your digits from what you see to be a deep shade of magenta mingled with numerous hues of green festooning across the land, it is astonishing the beauty your vision is encountering prompting you to whirl your head in every direction to take in the glacier gray of the mountains you observe to be cratering a lapis glow of a lake.

The familiarity of a reminiscent involving a body of water decides to accompany your mind, but the difference between your memory of what you assume regards to reality, is that what you are gazing upon now, is nothing but magical. In wondrous awe, you find yourself standing, taking a slow bare foot forward, just to be halted when the feel of something is settled around your head. Furrowed eyebrows, you lightly tap along what feels to be numerous twigs tangled together with stems of bloomed petals. You raise your other hand to retrieve the item, glance widening at the myriad of dancing colors in the form of flowers embellishing what looks to be what one would call a crown.

Has it been there all along?

An inkling to turn around urges you to do so, lips parted in a gasp though not one sound escapes. He stands before you, the man from a preceding ponder, dressed in white, angelically beaming from head to toe, imitating the enchanting resonation of the atmosphere, causing you to long for whatever bliss he has within his touch. Did he give this to you?

Tenderly, he reaches to place his fingertips beneath the flower crown where your heart leaps at the faint brush of his skin. Lifting it ever so steadily, he returns to set the emblem where it belongs, to the empress of his heart, of his universe, completing you in all entirety. Your eyes flicker between his in suppressed doubt; is this real? You are so enveloped in the amiability of his gape, your palms extend to fold along his shoulders, leading his hand to rest at the side of your neck. He is reading your soul as much as you are trying to decipher his, but there is a connection that no other will ever be able to gain from you as much as him.

The nearness of him is what you are now in concentration of, leaning closer, waiting for what you are hoping for-

Namjoon’s long frame slides upon the plaid picnic blanket, abdomen first, while he folds his arms to where he rests his cheek, “I’m feeling the weight of that essay from last night,”

“And, you still turned it in late,” you tease, munching on a snack while he throws a playful side glance. It’s been a month since the reuniting, and the friendship has become exactly what you have been needing. Unfortunately, finances have still been a heavy burden, but at least you have found an ally in Gyeongju who is just as excited to see you as you are him.

“I mean I was pretty distracted,”

Scoffing, you smack his shoulder lightly with the back of your hand, “That video of that kitten was so cute, and you know it,”

“I never said it wasn’t cute,” the way his lips break into the widest smile, his eyes squinting in the way they do that then reveals his dimples; as much as you’d like to deny the way your heart feels a sense of longing, you mask it quite effortlessly.

“You literally giggled so much, I thought you were going to pee,” breathy laughter escapes him prompting him to bury his head into his arms, your gaze never leaving his shaking shoulders. “Well, it’s true!” Moments such as these bring a joy you are thankful exists, but little does Namjoon know, or so you assume, that once you step into your apartment to be reminded of how little you have moneywise, the depression seeps in. It is hard enough to work every day as hard as you do, just to watch your paycheck subtract away right before your eyes with each bill. It is something you haven’t necessarily opened about, because you just don’t know how. And, the last thing you need is for someone to offer help that you know they may not have.

“That’s only happened one time!” He exclaims, him shifting to lean more on his side so he can peer up at you. This area particularly is further within the park where there are not as many trees, which gives enough space to lay out a blanket and view the scenery. Sunshine brightens the atmosphere as well as warming your skin, and though you’re continuing to cackle with Namjoon, you slide until you are upon your back, using your arm to shade some of the sunlight. One perk regarding the park is it’s free, which is why you always ask to come here when hanging out, and you refuse to let Namjoon pay a dime for anything, not even a candy bar.

The nearness of his body does not heighten your senses until you turn to look at him, and that’s when you melt wishing nothing more than to kiss him. Which explains the dreams you’ve been having lately. Laughter has ceased for the time being, instead the conversation moves into a different subject, one you hoped wouldn’t happen, but considering your avoidance of going to many places, and the embarrassment of Namjoon seeing the emptiness of your kitchen one too many times, the paranoia of him catching on to why you have been slightly more stressed than usual may enter his suspicions.

“Have you been okay?” By the tone of his voice, you can tell right away he is aware of something. But, how can you tell him you are fine, when you are nowhere near one hundred percent. You definitely feel that way when with him, because he makes you forget about the reality at home, but gives you a time to escape, a time to embrace the joy he provides you every chance he gets. Should you tell him the truth? “[Y/N], I never mentioned this before just because I figured it was just coincidence, but when was the last time you’ve gotten groceries? Like, actual groceries,”

“Ramen is groceries,”

“I-” Namjoon pauses, “What I mean is, more than just ramen noodle cups and stale chips,”

“Maybe that’s how I like my chips. Corny and stale,”

“That sounds-”

“Listen,” you lift an index finger, “if vegetables and fruits would last longer than a week, I totally wouldn’t feel like I’m wasting money.”

“You know if you need anything, I’m here for you,” his words nearly bring you to tears, leading you to turn your head in the opposite direction to avoid his concerned expression. He knows you are making excuses at this point and of course, he is not entirely sure of why, but he may be able to guess correctly if he tried.

“I don’t need anything, I promise I’m fine,” your reply is soft, but loud enough for him to hear. Though you can’t see it, Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow, him picking at his fingertips while in deep concentration. He is learning that you, stubbornly, are most definitely not going to let him help in any way, but unbeknownst to you, is that he will stop at nothing to make sure you are okay no matter what.

“Look at me,” your heart skips a beat immediately when you slowly return to where he is within your glimpse, his thumb reaching to brush your bottom lip where he inches much closer than you anticipated. All you know, is that if he reads every word that your mind is screaming, your heart may burst out of your chest. Yearning for his kiss, he is close enough to where his breath sweeps your chin, “[Y/N], really, if there is anything at all that you absolutely need, please know I will do anything for you,”

Your fingers bundle into the collar of his shirt absentmindedly, letting his forehead press upon yours before you dare to close the gap you are so anxiously wanting to do. His thumb now strokes your cheek, tickling your skin to the point you feel breathless.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper, a hushed tear dropping onto your cheek before he swipes it away.

“I just want you to be okay,”

“I am,” you try your best to sound reassuring, “Joon, I promise you I am,”

“Okay,” he whispers, and even then, you have no idea the best that is yet to come.

Sleeping cherry blossoms encircle you save for the entrance of a tunnel gleaming piercingly bright in the distance that seems so close yet so far out of reach. The iridescent shades of the petals glitter in preparation for what is to come, but your focus solely remains on the escape ahead into a world you have always dreamed of. Or is this the world you have always dreamed of? Scents of the florets waft past your nose in a way to ease you, and the lingering thought of the man clothed in white shadows the crevices of your conscious. Just the mere reminisce of him prompts his appearance and as he stands behind you in all his glory, he knows the desire looming beneath your chest for the magic you crave.

His arms reach to link around you, chin nestling on your shoulder; there is no fear for he is the only being welcome in your world of serenity. Your hands smooth upon his folded arms that remain resting against your abdomen, and forever seems to be in the forefront of your mind. Spinning within his embrace, a subtle smirk graces his mouth while your hands glide to his chest, and finally after many dreams of pining, he leans in to close the gap- snatching your lips as softly as you have imagined causing the closed petals all around the pair of you to bloom endlessly, flourishing every ounce of space the two of you may have had a fraction before. The power is within his kiss, summoning the blossoms to awaken as they are meant to. The same as he is meant to be with you.

“I miss you, too, Mom,” you smile into the phone, sifting through the mail you just checked, eyebrows furrowing when you feel as though something is missing. “Yeah- yeah, I have, I mean, yes mom, I may have a boyfriend,” you giggle, shaking your head at your persistent mother who has been dying to catch up with you since you moved. “I think- yeah, I think he may be who I’ve been waiting for,” when a knock at the door alerts you, you quickly bid your mom a farewell with the promise of calling her back tomorrow before you start work again.

Staring at the pile of mail, you wonder why the utility bill has not been sent. It is around the time that it should have arrived meaning you may need to take a short trip to the leasing office if Namjoon doesn’t mind. Giddily, you skip to look through the peephole to see him, standing tall with his slim fingers slipped into his pockets. Unlocking the door, you run a swift hand through your hair in an attempt to neaten the strands before opening the entrance. “Hey!” You breathe, gesturing for him to come in, and when the door closes, you leap into his embrace before smiling into a sweet kiss.

“Are you ready for today? The weather is beautiful out,”

“Beyond ready,” you kiss him again. The anticipation to explore another location involving nature is what you enjoy especially with someone who equally enjoys it as much as you. “But I must make a quick trip to the leasing office if that’s okay? I have Netflix if you want to chill for a bit- it shouldn’t take too long.”

Namjoon chuckles, leaning in to press a slow kiss to your lips, “Everything okay?”

“Mm yeah,” you reply in a daze, “I just haven’t received my utility bill yet and I’m concerned. Can you um, can you do that again? I may need the extra umph,”

Breathy laughter is interrupted when he kisses you again, and it takes everything in you to pull away, “Okay, I feel better now,”

“Good. Whatever it takes,”

As much as you would love to not have to pay any bills, you saunter across the road to where the leasing office lives, encompassed by sparse trees and a small swimming pool off to the side. You are happy to see Jung Hoseok, leaned on his desk, spectacles slid down his nose, and gaze distracted by whatever he is reading on the computer screen.

“Good morning,” you greet, Hoseok immediately looks to see who has walked in, gesturing with a smile toward a seat in front of his desk.

“How can I help you today?”

“Yes, um, I just went through my mail today and I realized I hadn’t received the utility bill for this month, so I wanted to check to make sure I didn’t miss anything,”

“Ah, yes, let me pull up your account here,” his fingers fly over the keyboard, the clicking noise being the only sound filling the space. “Hm, looks like it’s already been paid for.”

“Excuse me?” Confusion is evident within your voice as well as plastered upon your entire expression. “When did I? I paid it?”

“Mhm, as well as your rent for the rest of the year among all of your other bills. There’s enough money on your account to just automatically draft-”

“But I didn’t-”

“Well it says it right here,” he pokes the screen once.

“Are you able to see when the money was put in? I have no idea how-” The realization hits you suddenly prompting a small gasp.

“Er, is everything okay, Ms. [Y/N]?”

“Yeah,” you say quite breathlessly, gradually standing to your feet, the world spinning faster than you could have prepared for.

“I mean, I can ask my coworker, Taehyung if he knows anything. I got back from vacation today, so I may not have the answer for you-”

“No, no it’s okay. I- I think I know who is responsible. Thank you so much, Hoseok.”

“Anytime, dear!”

Being slightly dizzy while running is an interesting combo, but you make it to your apartment without tripping over your own two feet and you stand before the door, your chest heaving. The dreams you have been having- it all makes sense now. You wanted nothing more than a reason, or a miracle, to feel as if you were home, or where you belonged, and finally, it was given to you in the most unexpected way. When you came to Gyeongju, you had no idea that Namjoon would show up in your life and turn it into the most beautiful adventure you have ever had. You were willing to suffer through the bills if it meant being close to him, and how he figured out your hardship, you are uncertain- you always avoided the subject when it came to hardly having any money. Slowly stepping into your apartment, you click the door closed, Namjoon’s focus turning from the tv to you as he rises to his feet. You are speechless as you gaze at the man of your dreams. When he said he would do anything for you, you never imagined this.

“Whatever it takes?” You croak, hardly sure even now what to say. Namjoon will do anything to make you happy, and that is how you knew after getting to know him the past few months that you were wholeheartedly in love with him. You will spend the rest of your life trying to thank him no matter the circumstances, and as soon as his frame entangles with yours, he whispers,

“Whatever it takes.”

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eleutheramina · 3 years

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Jack Atlas Analysis - Part 2

Who is FC arc Jack?

How about DS arc Jack? - here

How could the DS arc have done better with regards to Jack?

Part 2: How about DS arc Jack?

DS!Jack is certainly in a much different situation that FC!Jack, and I think the line between character derailment and character development can be hard to draw sometimes. There are some who would argue that the change of lead from Tomioka to Yoshida does change him into a different character, but again, I don’t wholly agree with that. I actually am pretty fine with his characterization for most of the arc. I’m not going to touch on Team Satisfaction and how that retroactively affects Jack’s character because that’s a whole can of worms I don’t care to open.

So who is DS!Jack? Well, he no longer holds his King title, he is definitely not unbeatable, and his Satellite origins are revealed to the public. He spends the first couple of the episodes unconscious, the third in the hospital with a broken arm. FC!Jack would probably think DS!Jack is pathetic and a disgrace.

Less of Jack’s Internal Monologue More than how he’s characterized himself, I think one of the more subtle but significant differences about DS!Jack is how his personality is conveyed to the audience. Whereas FC!Jack has a decent amount of moments of internal monologue, I feel like there’s relatively little of Jack’s internal monologue for most of the DS arc. This, I think, contributes to why DS!Jack feels different than FC!Jack even right off the bat. Not to say FC!Jack doesn’t also convey a lot about Jack through his body language, actions, or dialogue, but I think how DS!Jack is characterized relies on it more heavily.

For instance, we don’t get much (or really, any) internal monologue about Jack’s feelings about his loss. Jack’s first action in the DS arc is to knock down a vase in anger because of his Satellite background being revealed; he also reacts similarly angrily when it makes the headlines in episode 31, paired with a flashback of his defeat and Yusei’s words about his pride of being a King, as well as when he hears his fans’ cheers and imagines Yusei’s face very heterosexually in the fountain.

Both the reason for and the impact of not knowing a lot of Jack’s thoughts regarding his loss is, I think, that the audience mainly has Carly’s perspective on him, especially in episode 31. I think this contributes to the foreignness of DS!Jack--after all, Carly did not exist in the FC arc and we as an audience are not used to her perspective on Jack being the primary way we know him. I don’t say this as necessarily a good or bad thing, just to be clear.

Right at the beginning of the DS arc, Carly is introduced and given an amount of protagonist-like focus to rival Yusei’s, especially notable since she does not initially have any clear connections with any of the other established characters (unlike Crow, who gets a comparable amount of focus but is retconned into being revealed to have been friends with Yusei and Jack).

Unlike Jack, Carly does get both internal and external monologues, and the amusement park plot of episode 31 is primarily from Carly’s perspective. She doesn’t know where Jack is trying to go or what Jack’s intentions are for 90% of the episode, and so neither does the audience, and only when she figures it out do we know that he’s heading to the tower. We don’t get to hear Jack mourn his loss of his Kingship when he’s staring at the fountain; it’s Carly who narrates his hurt for us.

This is especially clear with this shot:

Carly is literally looking at the audience during her internal monologue, suggesting she’s talking to us. Also lowkey this line is funny in hindsight because like she does melt his heart later.

Even while they’re watching Kiryu and Yusei’s duel, or even in episode 37, we basically don’t get anything about what Jack thinks. We only get what he says to Carly or Mikage (most of which is exposition about Zero Reverse or Team Satisfaction), or Carly’s perception of him.

Jack’s Relationship with Carly Jack’s initial interactions with Carly feel fairly in-character to me. He’s pretty indifferent to her initially, but if Jack is someone who evaluates people based on their merit, I think the moment when Carly defends him from a blast is when she overcomes the threshold to be worthy of some respect by Jack. And even then, he continues to seem either indifferent or annoyed by her--he initially leaves her apartment without any notice, he gets fed up with her antics to get a scoop from him, and he leaves her at the park and does what he’d originally set out to do. Even after the scene at the tower at the end of 31, he continues to not show much warmth to her at all for the remainder of their interactions before she becomes a DS.

The impact of the scarcity of internal monologues for DS!Jack is that the development of Jack’s feelings for Carly is kept under wraps for most of the arc. FC!Jack has copious monologues about his being King, etc. As for DS!Jack? Well at one point, he thinks, “What I need to protect” when staring at Carly’s glasses. . . and that’s basically it as far as what Jack thinks about Carly.

The rest is conveyed through Jack staring at her glasses a lot--often paired with or commented on by Mikage, which helps put what he’s doing in a more explicitly romantic light--and conversations with Mikage. Indeed, we only fully understand his motivation when Mikage asks him directly why he’s going to Satellite. Contrast with FC!Jack whose motivation is clear from the beginning and which we hear from his own words.

Now, I think having Jack’s feelings be mostly beneath the surface is a smart move; in hindsight, it’s pretty clear that he has feelings for Carly, but because they are not overstated, Jack doesn’t seem too lovesick or sentimental in a way that would definitely feel out of character. Rushed Relationship Development Even the most ardent of Scoopshippers can probably agree that the leap Jack and Carly’s relationship takes is a large one. In their duel, it is beyond clear that Jack is extremely in love with her, extremely considerate of her wellbeing, her feelings, her desires, and willing to die with her, and Carly’s feelings are of similar intensity.

Now, I do think we see that Carly as a character understands and pushes Jack in ways other characters don’t, and in a way that I can imagine Jack eventually also comes to reciprocate.

But ultimately the relationship itself is quite rushed and the two lack actual quality time together on screen. The scene where Carly is imagining Jack in her apartment and crying about things he took from her helps in creating the illusion that they spent a lot of time together and were able to get close--but ultimately, we don’t get to see much of that on screen, and I think that’s probably the biggest weakness of this subplot. Suggested interactions don’t make up for onscreen interactions, especially when it comes to moving characters from feeling lukewarm about one another to the passion and commitment that Jack and Carly display in their duel. The scenes from episode 29 and episode 31 get references in flashbacks a lot later in the arc--and while they’re certainly shiptastic, they don’t feel commensurate to the intensity of their feelings for one another later.

Of course, I imagine part of this is because, at its core, YGO is not a romance anime, and the DS arc just really needed to move the plot along. Kiryu and Yusei’s duel, and Jack’s subsequent leaving of Carly, starts in the episode right after the tower scene. The writers needed Jack/Carly’s relationship to go from point A to point B as efficiently as possible.

Part of the drama/mystery of the Jack/Carly plot is that the audience isn’t fully sure what Jack feels until the duel itself, even though it’s hinted that he cares for her; Jack’s confession of love comes as somewhat of a surprise. But I think this also meant that we did not get to see a lot of the moments of them caring about each other on screen. And I also think that it’s possible to increase their onscreen interactions and make their bonding more obvious without sacrificing too much of the mystery surrounding Jack’s real feelings. Continuity With FC!Jack One thing I do think the DS arc does well is articulating Jack’s FC character pretty accurately and continuing his arc with similar themes/ideas. “Change Destiny” is a really heavy-handed card, but I do think that the idea of Jack believing he is destined to be King or walk on the path of the King, and then abandoning that concept entirely for a path he makes himself, is consistent with FC!Jack’s doggedness in being King and the way Godwin/Jaeger talk about it as something he’s meant to be.

Although the execution was not great, I think the idea of Jack being tempted by the idea of being a Dark King - one who “needs not friends, bonds,” and rules over the whole world turned into hell, is an extreme version of the loner king who abandons friends for something better, as Jack did

Similarly, the idea of a real King that Carly hopes Jack will become in episode 59, though cheesy, does expand on the idea of him being a King in a way that is also consistent with not being a loner/gaining bonds. When Jack calls himself “a person who would never give a thought to others... willing enough to betray and hurt [his] friends, sacrificing any and all for [his] own ambitions” — I think that’s spot on who Jack is in the FC arc.

And Godwin and Jack’s dramatic exchange during their duel at the end of episode 63 about the only way to being a King is being alone, about how Jack abandoned bonds — that’s pretty congruent with FC Jack. And having Jack say that he also abandoned being the King, when his attachment to being the King was the cornerstone of his character before, is an effective move in terms of rounding out his character arc. The other biggest flaw with Jack in the DS arc is that we don’t see him struggle more with abandoning that identity.

In fact, DS!Jack spends a lot less time angsting talking about being the King--which again, makes some sense because he lost the FC and the focus of the story shifts/expands to be more about the Signer vs Dark Signer conflict. If it is brought up, it’s mostly to emphasize that he’s not the King anymore, such as when he corrects Mikage about calling him King in episode 32, or when he calls that man “a different person” to Godwin in episode 42.

Jack feels notably less condescending and egoistical in the DS arc, even from the very beginning. Part of this can be explained away by the fact that he is no longer in the settings in which his ego can shine the most--the Duel Stadium, or his mansion--and therefore doesn’t really have that many people to look down on anymore. I also think part of it is because, due to the lack of internal monologue (and the use of Carly as a viewpoint character), we don’t hear his thoughts as often, disparaging or not.

The most we see of the condescending Jack is probably in episode 43, when he beats up Yusei when he’s upset about having to fight Kiryu. It’s also the main time we see Jack talk about how he feels about losing his title - he says Yusei “dragged [him] off his throne and gave [him] such disgrace.” Here we see how this aspect of Jack, rather than mostly serving to make him look cruel as it had in the FC arc, actually helps to challenge Yusei’s character. Indeed, in general we see Jack is more supportive of Yusei. We also see a bit of Jack’s old boastfulness when he says that “Your Earthbound Gods aren’t so great” and saves Martha’s kids in episode 46.

Jack also doesn’t push other people away as much in the DS arc, though he definitely still does at some points. When Mikage tries to draw closer to him, he ultimately rebuffs her. Even Carly initially leaves without much thought and brushes her off when she first tries to talk to him. When Yusei’s talking about his nakama in episode 45, it’s Jack who says he’s not anyone’s friend. Jack is also arguably the most closed off from the other Signers. No one knows who he’s dueling, and he’s the only Signer to not have anyone watching his duel.

Yet he also more openly cares about other people. Yusei’s injury in episode 35 gives him great concern for him that honestly he doesn’t show Yusei much during the FC. We are shown Jack’s old caregiver, Martha, whom he clearly cares for. And of course, there’s Carly.

Finally, Jack has more moments of generic heroism in the DS arc, whereas in the FC he basically has none. He goes into the crumbling Arcadia Movement to save Aki, and he also dramatically saves the orphans from being sacrificed to the Earthbound God Uru. Whereas Jack could be said to be one of the antagonists of the FC arc, he certainly is portrayed as more of a protagonist in the DS arc, when the grander Signer-Dark Signer conflict plays out.

#jack atlas #yugioh 5d's #ygo 5d's #5d's meta #yugioh

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #409

“when everything is wrong, we move along”

Are you a good kisser? I mean there's no way for me to actually know, but I guess history suggests I'm not bad. What question do you hate being asked the most? "What does your tattoo mean?" I'm so self-conscious of my "strange" interests that I can't stand that question and I get SO awkward. I know, I know, "Then why did you even get it?" Reason being it makes me happy and I don't want my fears to win anyway. What do you think the hardest part of surviving is? Just that very thing: surviving. Getting through rough patches with your sanity and good health intact. Do you own any clothes you wouldn’t wear in front of your mother? No. Do you honestly hate anyone? Sometimes I think I still hate the girl Jason dated after me. It's entirely unjustified, and even knowing they're not together anymore (at least, to my knowledge), thinking of her just... makes me angry and jealous and just generally uncomfortable. I also sincerely hate someone who violated my best friend. What song did you hear last? I'm listening to a slowed down mash-up of "Circus" by Britney Spears and "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga. It's actually p dope man. Have you ever walked in on your friends having sex? YIKES no. Where do you find you take most of your naps? I nap in my bed. Do you like sleeping just wearing your underwear and a top? No. I had to do that once and I was SO uncomfortable. Are you named after a parent or grandparent? No. Who was the last person to ask you out? Girt. Do you have nice legs? No. Has a boyfriend’s brother ever hit on you? No. Do you have a nice butt? That's an even bigger "no." I have like, no ass lmao. What do you have a massive attraction towards? Some short Korean dude that is the literal avatar of "chaotic good" lmao. Have you ever made a sex tape? NOOOOOOO and I never will. How do you feel about your weight right now? I am immensely unhappy and just seriously depressed by it. Have your parents ever told you that you’re a disappointment? Oh my god, no. I would die. I feel like they think that, but they've never said or acted so. Do graveyards thrill or terrify you? They give me a feeling of peace, and I find them humbling as a tiny, mortal being that's only here for a flicker in time. They remind me to try and make use of that spark. What song’s your current favorite? I've really been digging "SAVIOR" by SWARM as of recently. Do you miss any of your exes? Yes. Did you ever take pottery class in high school? They didn't offer a course for specifically pottery; it was just included in Art. I made one or two things. Have you ever felt yourself fainting? A few times. Who’s the last boy to make you cry? Guess. His memory, anyway. Did he know that he made you cry? I honestly wonder what he'd think if he knew all these years later, I still have times where I cry over him. When’s the last time you felt like a total asshole? I don't really know. Has anyone ever threatened you? Yes. Would you ever own a rat? I've owned quite a lot. I LOVE rats, and a part of me wants another pair, but I'm just not a great owner of pets that require so much cleaning. Would you or do you ever spank your kids? NO. I will ALWAYS say this regarding this subject: you do not teach your children through fear, nor do you instill in them, deliberately or not, that it is okay to hit people when they upset you. Have you ever considered being a cop? Nope. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever kept a goldfish alive? Not long. Fish husbandry is more complicated than people make you think, so your ordinary fishbowl situation isn't going to work long. Have your parents ever questioned your virginity? My mother has. Dad has never said anything regarding this subject, thank god. That would be uncomfortable as shit. Have you ever spent over $100.00 on an article of clothing? What was it? Fuck no. Honestly, have you ever mooned or flashed somebody? No. Have you stayed up past 3 in the morning this week? Actually, yes. I pulled the first all-nighter in eons a few days back. What was on the last sandwich you had? Ham, cheese, and mustard. Do you own a trenchcoat? Bitch I wish. Name the hardiest piece of technology you own? Christ, my iPod that I've had since middle school. Seriously, a 4th gen. iPod Nano is still running, and I use it HEAVILY. I have no fucking clue how it's still alive. Tell me the last thing you searched on the internet? A definition just to make sure I was using it correctly. Are you currently in a smoking environment? Nooooo. Ma would never allow someone to smoke in here, and I honestly wouldn't either. Have you ever owned a tire swing? No. Have you ever taken care of a drunk friend? No. How about a hungover friend? No. What’s your opinion on people who go hunting for sport? You gross me out. (: Do you know anyone who can fluently speak more than two languages? No. Have you ever gone in a sauna? NOOOOOOOOOOOO. I would hate that SO much. What animal have you always wanted as a pet but couldn’t have? ALWAYS wanted? Probably a ferret. I don't actually want one now, but the idea is still nice to imagine. They're such characters. Is there any TV show that ended that you wish hadn’t? Ugggghhhh, Deadman Wonderland. It ended on SUCH a cliffhanger. I mean the manga continued, so I could've chosen to read that, but I don't read manga. Have you ever seen your parents drunk and what was your reaction? I saw my dad drunk all the time when I was younger because he was an alcoholic for as long as he lived with us. I knew he was either going to be hilarious or volatile and withdrawn. 50/50 chance. I've seen my mom drunk a couple times, and it was always surprising to me because she drinks very rarely. She's a very social and silly drunk, and it's a rare occasion where she seems happy. What’s your biggest body worry when you wear a bikini? Hunny, you would NOT see me in a bikini. Even if no one else was around, I wouldn't put one on. If you had the chance to redo high school knowing what you know now, how would you redo it? I think I probably wouldn't have dated Jason. Do you or anyone you know have an account on deviantART? I have for many, many years, and have friends that do, too. Do you get your eyebrows waxed? Not anymore. If you draw, what's one thing you always have trouble with? HANDS. Who was the first person you made out with, and where was it? Jason, in his bed. When was the last time someone said you were attractive? WOW, who the fuck even knows. Have you ever had to pretend you were sober, even though you were wasted? How did it turn out? No. Have you ever smoked at school? No. Have you ever thrown up from working out? No. Do you think machines will take over the world? I think it's a possibility. Technology keeps advancing faster and faster that I wouldn't be all that surprised if we design them to such an advanced state that they have some sort of sentience. Is the way you typically behave congruent with your ethnic background? What the ACTUAL fuck is this question. Literally fuck off. Have you ever lived in a brand new house? No. Has the last person you kissed met your father? Yes. What’s your favourite breed of dog? I have a strong bias for beagles. As far as visual appeal of breeds goes, I REALLY couldn't tell ya. There are so many beautiful dogs. Do you think more about the past, present or future? I'm pretty obsessed with the past. Do you swear in front of your parents? Dad, freely. Around Mom, I try not to say "fuck" or "goddamn" because she really doesn't like those. I still say some words, though. It's just pure habit. What’s something that’s bothering you? I've just been having envy problems lately, and it's not an emotion I'm used to or enjoy whatsoever. Have you ever been asked out by someone you didn’t want to date? Yeah. Did any particular thing brighten up your day today? Not really. Do you know who your latest ex is dating? Nobody. What are your plans for the weekend? My sister Katie and her husband are coming to visit, and we're probably driving up to a lake that Ash and her little family stay at all the time so Katie can meet the kids. But with that storm coming through, it's questionable if we'll actually go, because it's an hour drive. When were you last in a car? Earlier today to go to the TMS office. I officially start my tapering sessions, so I won't be going every day now. Have you cried today at all? No. Have you ever gone out in public in your pajamas? That is noooot rare, honestly. Depends on where I'm going. Have you ever had bronchitis? Nope. Think back to the last person you kissed, how many times have you cried in front of them? Twice, I wanna say? What do you want right this second? To actually have motivation to draw a picture I have planned. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now would you accept? No. If I weren't so opposed to smoking because of the lung damage I honestly would, though. I'm curious how it would affect my anxiety. Can you control your dreams if you realize you are dreaming? No. When was the last time you cried really hard? I'm really not sure. Do you think you can last for an hour without talking? Very, very easily. I probably do that on a daily basis. Do you know anyone else with your name? Yes, but spelled differently.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''move along'' by the all-american rejects

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dogtrainingofficial · 3 years

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10 Reasons Why Your Dog Ignores Your Commands

Is your dog giving you deaf ears? When this happens, avoid repeating the command over and over and imposing yourself until you get a response; instead, take a step back and consider the following scenarios which are some of the most common issues encountered when training dogs.

1) Low Value Treats: Are Your Treats Worth Working For?

It’s a romantic and hard to debunk myth that dogs work for us just to please us. In reality, as opportunistic beings, dogs are most likely thinking “what’s in it for me?” according to the Association of Pet Dog Trainers (APDT). The right use of treats can really make the difference between a dog who is eager to work and one who couldn’t care less. The use of low-value treats (such as kibble) can be detrimental if your dog isn’t excited by them, especially during the initial stages of learning or when there are distractions around, so make sure your treats are worthy of attention.

Also remember to stick to treats which are soft, smelly, and in small bite-sized pieces. This allows your dog to quickly gobble up the reward and focus his attention back on you, rather than being distracted by a longer-lasting treat.

A suggestion? Try to use what respected veterinarian, trainer and writer Dr. Ian Dunbar calls the Ferrari of dog treats: Freeze-dried liver.

2) Low Rate of Reinforcement: Are You Missing Out on Rewarding?

In the initial stages of learning or when there are lots of distractions around, your dog may find sniffing the grass, looking around, marking territory and pulling on the leash more rewarding than training. Why is that? It’s probably because there are stimuli that are extra interesting and are worth paying more attention to. If your dog has received little training in the past, he may have been doing this for a good part of his life. Increasing the rate of reinforcement during this time by giving your dog more treats for his training efforts may help to motivate him, and will teach him to pay more attention to you than to the distracting environmental stimuli.

A low rate of reinforcement can also cause your dog to get frustrated and give up trying; remember, during the initial stages of learning you need a continuous rate of reinforcement (giving rewards for every success), and only once your dog shows signs of responding well can you move on to a variable schedule (only giving treats for success every now and then).

3) High Criteria: Are You Asking Too Much at Once?

This is where the saying “be a splitter and not a lumper” comes into play. It is often tempting to try to teach new behaviors all at once in a single evening. When your dog stops working for you, you start thinking: “Am I asking for too much at once?” Truth is, often when dogs fail to respond to a command it is because it is too hard for them. So try not to ramp up the difficulty too quickly; rather, break the objective down into several attainable steps to help your dog succeed. As an example, if you were trying to train your dog to touch the tip of a target stick with his nose, you could reward him for touching ANY part of the stick at first. Over time once your dog gets a hang of this, you could then move on to rewarding him only for touching the rounded tip at the top of the stick.

Try your best to prevent your dog’s progress from stalling, and do not make your training sessions too long – keep them short and sweet!

4) High Level of Distractions: Is there too Much Going on?

Dogs learn best when there are little to no distractions around, so be sure to start your training sessions in a quiet room where there is not much going on.

Once your dog is able to perform the behavior in the quiet room, build from there and gradually start asking your dog to perform the behavior in a noisier room. Then, progress to the yard, a busy street, the dog park and so forth.

If you start on a busy street or at the dog park right away, your dog may not respond because you have not yet built a foundation for the behavior.

5) Lack of Training: Has Your Dog Ever Been Trained Before?

If the handler has a history of being inconsistent and not following through with the dog, there’s a chance the dog may have learned he could get away from certain behaviors and has learned to ignore the handler. Dogs who have never been trained and have been allowed to do as they please for a good part of their lives often find the initial stages of learning difficult, since the concept is entirely new to them. It is up to the handler to become interesting and worth listening to by investing in reward-based training methods, like the ones taught in Adrienne Farricelli’s Brain Training for Dogs course.

6) Unclear Cues: Are You Confusing Your Dog?

Dogs thrive on consistency, so make sure you always use the same command cue and that all other people training the dog are on the same page. If you ask for a command and your dog just stares at you, consider if that command has a history of being used consistently.

In classes, it is not uncommon to encounter a family where the wife uses “come” to call the dog, the husband uses the dog’s name, and the kids just say “here!” Don’t ask for behaviors in multiple ways, and make sure your body language is congruent with the verbal command. Dogs find body language more salient then verbal cues.

Also, try your best not to repeat commands over and over, otherwise your dog will learn not to listen to the first time you say it, but will wait for you to finish your sentence instead!

7) Frustration Buildup: Are you Getting Frustrated?

Dogs are masters in body language and they can easily detect frustration. When the handler’s frustration builds up, dogs often shut down instead of becoming more compliant. In this case, it helps to ask the dog for a behavior he knows well (such as a sit) followed by a reward to end the session on a positive note. You can try the exercise again a little bit later, possibly further splitting the exercise into smaller sections if it was too hard for your dog.

Also, keep in mind that if you start raising your voice, bending down or getting into your dog’s face, you are intimidating him dog and he will feel the need to send you appeasement signals and default behaviors, rather than listening to your commands.

8) Emotional Problems: Are Emotions Getting in the Way?

If a dog is fearful, anxious or nervous, his emotional state may interfere with training. This is because the dog is often in a fight or flight state which affects his cognitive function, impairing his ability to learn. In such a case, you may need to work in areas where your dog is less likely to be frightened and then gradually introduce more and more stimuli in a way which does not cause him to react.

As an example, if your dog was frightened of thunder, instead of immediately exposing him to recordings of thunderstorms on full volume, you should first play them at a very low volume, where he acknowledges the sound but does not become scared. After rewarding your dog while the sound is played, you would, over time and numerous training sessions, increase the volume at which you play the recording. This process is known as desensitization and is a common technique used in dog training.

9) Health Considerations: Is Your Dog in Pain or Uncomfortable?

If your dog ignores you, he may be feeling unwell or uncomfortable. If your dog has always been obedient and is now slacking off, it is best to have your veterinarian rule out any medical problems. Sloppy sits or a reluctance to lay down may be indicative of orthopedic problems.

Aside from medical problems, some dogs may not like to be trained on certain surfaces, or perhaps the weather is too hot, too windy or too cold – there are a multitude of possibilities. Often, a distracted dog may simply need to relieve himself or get a drink of water. Consider how well you could perform in an exam if you were busting to use the bathroom!

10) Are You Forgetting to Brain Train Your Dog?

Many owners are not aware of this, but when it comes to dogs, idle minds are the devil’s workshop. Yet many owners are happy to leave their dogs bored by the fireplace all day, leading to untold behavior problems. The simple secret to a well-trained dog is engaging their mind and getting them thinking.

In the wild, before domestication, dogs would spend much of their lives performing tasks necessary for survival. Even in more modern history, dogs had special roles to perform in their relationships with humans. You can still see these natural drives in dogs today! For example, you will notice how beagles love to follow scents, how some terrier breeds love to dig, and how treeing coonhounds bark upon noticing prey up a tree. Unlike humans who perhaps dread the 9 to 5 grind, dogs actively WANT to work, and when they do not, they become prone to behavior problems, disobedience, and poor psychological well-being. Many owners spend THOUSANDS on dog training when the solution could be as simple as providing Rover with more mental stimulation!

Fortunately, Brain Training for Dogs offers a solution to this problem. Written by professionally certified trainer Adrienne Farricelli CPDT-KA (who’s work has appeared in USA Today, Everydog Magazine, Nest Pets and more), Brain Training for Dogs is one of the first training programs to not only teach obedience, better behavior, important skills and tricks, but to also work on increasing intelligence and engaging the dog’s brain too. Through 21 fun and simple games, the novel and scientifically-proven methods taught by Adrienne are sure to improve the lives of both you and your dog! By the end of Brain Training for Dogs your dog will be able to tidy up his toys, play the piano (yes, really), and identify his toys by name – all while being a better behaved and more obedient dog.

Want to get started with brain training? You can check out my course by clicking here:

>>>Get brain training for dogs today

As seen, there are many reasons why your dog may not be listening to you. Don’t quickly label your dog as stubborn, don’t begin shouting commands like a drill sergeant, and don’t give up training altogether – instead, try to give your dog a break and consider what may really be going on. A better understanding of how dogs learn should pave the path to better training.

Hope this helps!

#dog #dogs #doglife #dogtraining #puppies #puppylife #puppytraining #dogmom

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so-shiny-so-chrome · 5 years

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Witness: Kalashnikorn

Creator name (AO3): Kalashnikorn

Creator name (Tumblr): Main-force-patrol

Link to creator works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalashnikorn

Creator name (other platform- please specify): @Riccarterfans (twitter)

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: My interest in Mad Max started early. I was maybe 12-14 when my mom picked it up on VHS at a garage sale because she had fond memories of the film when it came out (she saw it in theaters, which is rare for her). We’re both fond of cars and dystopian/apocalyptic stuff, so I easily connected with the movie and fell in love with WAY too many of the characters. So there was my weirdo self, in the early 2000s, loving MM1 but not really having a fandom to join. I had fun on my own, drawing stuff, making toys of the characters, writing doofy adolescent fanfic. You know, the works. But I did it in isolation, because I was a LONELY kid. Not just in terms of fandom, there were just never other kids around, or adults (other than my parents) around. Therefore, I spent most of my time online, and lost countless hours lurking on the MadMaxMovies.com forum. But I didn’t feel safe talking to people there, because the only other fans were guys my dad’s age. For years, if I had any kind of fandom-related wish that I’d give an arm to fulfill, it was that other girls and queer folks would embrace the MM series so I could finally share my excitement with people that would “get” me. Fast forward to 2015. Fury Road fulfilled that wish. I knew tumblr was my best chance at getting those friends I’d wanted for so long. It’s better than I’d ever dreamed. Mad Max Fandom, I love you! Special shoutout to @d--t, @crunkmouse, @sillyb0yblue, @sleepymayo, @lethalpr0tector, @legendofstraydog, @partyinvalhalla and @vanessa-geraldine-carlysle!

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: I love to write first-person fic that delves into the darker aspects of the human psyche. How do we justify killing others? What impact does a hypermasculine culture have upon a man with depression and anxiety? Is violence really the key to surviving the apocalypse? I also enjoy writing about people seeking control or freedom, and wrestling with that they believe they need to do to achieve that.

Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?

A: Since I do first person, I like something to get me into the head of the character I’m writing, so I make playlists for certain characters. 99% of the time, anymore, I’m writing as Roop, so on his playlist I’ve got a bunch of stuff quasi-hipster stuff that touches upon themes of isolation, anger, violence, and feelings of helplessness. There’s a bunch of indie rock, some seventies stuff, and A LOT OF PINK FLOYD. Oh, and there’s some Aussie rock in there too, of course.

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: Finding the time to write!

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: Roop… And Roop. And my understanding of him has absolutely grown through portraying him. He’s a character that’s in MM1 for like.. Ten minutes? And after the opening chase scene, he hardly has any lines. But Steve Millichamp does an excellent job portraying him with his posture, body language, etc. So I gleaned ideas from his non-verbal performance. Honestly, if you look at the number of times he makes a mopey face, it’s astounding. Other times, he looks at Fifi for guidance, the way a kid looks at a parent or teacher. He doesn’t seem to have any friends at work, partially due to his own personality. I could go on for hours. From all that, I extrapolated that he’s basically caught between childhood and adulthood, and he’s trying to sort out what it means to be a good cop and a good person. Sometimes those things aren’t congruent, and it tears him up because he’s a very type A, hardworking perfectionist. Growing up, he was told that he was gifted, smart, etc., and he feels like an imposter because he fixates on his shortcomings and mistakes. And when trying to live up to this impossibly high standard, he puts a lot of pressure on himself and struggles when he has to surrender or when he fails. There’s a ton more, but those are the highlights. The vast majority my MM/Roop fic stays offline. Pretty much all of it is irrelevant to the rest of the Mad Max universe, so there’s no point in posting it. It’s taken on a life of its own. Of course, some people have let me know that they dislike or disagree with my characterization of Roop. That’s fine. Nobody’s forcing them to read my fic.

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: Oh hell yes. And I’m completely shameless about it, because I don’t think the practice should be taboo or frowned upon. We wouldn’t shame an actor who tapped their lived experience to bring authenticity to a role, would we? I think we should extend the same understanding to writers. Aside from being a great way to understand more about our selves, enjoy an escapist fantasy, or work through trauma, I think self-insertion can be a great way to evoke emotional authenticity in a story.

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: I pretty much stick to what I consider my strength, which is genfic. So I mostly stick to portraying platonic interactions, both friendly and unfriendly. I particularly like exploring how Roop interacts with/judges his co-workers. I’m also fond of writing about good moms who love and encourage their kids. Sometimes the mom is the viewpoint character, sometimes it’s the kid. Regardless, I like looking at how parental relationships can shape a person’s worldview.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: My work makes me hyper-analyze MM1 and its novelization. I mostly write MM1 fic because I feel like we could have gotten a lot more mileage out of exploring MM1’s world, before society fully broke down and became the more fantastical wasteland we know and love in MM2, MM3, and MMFR. As much as I like the later worldbuilding stuff, I can really appreciate watching a civilization crumble in a grounded, slow-burning manner.

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: Depends on what you mean by “break.” I think a lot purists would say that I break canon, so I’ll put it this way: I like to write stories where I add to canon without directly contradicting it. We’re never shown Roop’s home life, for instance. It’s free real estate! I do this because I just want MORE MM1. More Roop, more MFP, more Armalites, all of it. I don’t feel the need to change anything, just add more volume to it. That said, I love it when others break canon! I have a ton of fun reading AUs and alternate scenes.

Q: Share some headcanons

A: GRAB A SEAT AND PUT YOUR SITTIN’ PANTS ON. Here we go: In addition to recruiting local police officers and other traditional recruiting strategies, the MFP uses conscription to fill out its ranks. Roop is one such draftee. Roop doesn’t spend any time with Charlie outside of work. He really just tries to minimize contact with the guy. If we do all my Roop headcanons, we’ll be here until the Miller completes MM5. Charlie wanted to go seminary school and become a priest, but was drafted. Losing his voice pretty much killed his dream of preaching. Fifi takes an interest in his men, but only so he can better manipulate them into staying/reenlisting. Bubba was a former MFP officer who went rogue once budget cuts and bureaucratic decisions made law enforcement abandon his rural hometown.

Q: Who are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?Inside the fandom, the old RP crowd and I bounced a lot of ideas off each other, and interacting with their muses helped Roop’s story grow by leaps and bounds (finger guns at @d--t’s OC, Renholder, @vanessa-geraldine-carlysle’s portrayal of Charlie, and @legendofstraydog’s OC, Syrup!) Outside the fandom, my biggest influences are Kurt Vonnegut, J.D. Salinger, Quentin Tarantino, the Coen Brothers, and Sam Esmail.

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: Not yet, but I'd love to go someday!

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project

A: “Autotomy” is my big current WIP. It’s 7 chapters into its 9 or 10 chapter run (I’ve literally got chapter 8 open in another window as I’m writing this). It follows Roop immediately after MM1 ends. He sees the aftermath of Max’s rampage, and begins to question his own ideals. Then his morals are put to the test when an unexpected guest arrives at his home. The word “autotomy” describes cutting off a part of oneself to escape a greater threat. Think of a lizard that sheds its trapped tail to avoid being eaten. I’m using it in the literal and metaphorical sense. At the end of MM1, we see someone have to make a literal life-or-limb decision. And in this story, Roop has to decide whether or not to cut off the toxic ideology that has guided his actions.

Thank you @main-force-patrol @richardcarterfans some of your tags got lost in reformatting. You may want to retag your peeps

#Mad Max Fandom Creator Spotlight #Mad Max Fandom Spotlight #mad max fic #mad max fic author spotlight #kalishnakorn #main-force-patrol

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lesbiankoby · 6 years

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i have a word document w/ nedzu and recovery girl’s big dramatic backstory on my computer that i may or may not ever post so in case i dont here’s the first like, three pages.

“THIS IS A HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATION!”

Chiyo hits the floor of the cell hard and fast, bouncing on contact— as much of an answer as she’s going to receive, she supposes, mouth wrapping around the hard edges of another tangent when the door swings shut with a CLANG.

The words die in her throat.

Not much use ranting if there’s no one to hear.

Chiyo shuts her eyes, tight, and breathes, one-two one-two one-two. Panicking won’t help anyone, least of all her. Keep your head, Chiyo. Lose it here and you might not get it back.

She opens her eyes.

Time to take stock of the situation, huh?

It’s a small cell, not just clean but sterile, like all the labs in this facility. White walls and a white floor and a white ceiling. Behind her, the door is an imposing metal slab; a tombstone of chrome— no. Nobody’s dying here. She’s not—

A vents embedded in the ceiling. Out of reach, of course. Metal, like the door, and (while she’s no expert) tight enough she doesn’t think she could pry it open even if she could get up there. There isn’t a bed in sight, not even a cot, but someone’s set up a little nest of blankets in the corner adjacent to the exit.

The nest moves.

Oh no.

“…Hello again.” Chiyo takes few cautious steps forward, hands extended at her sides in an attempt to make herself as non-threatening as possible. She…isn’t sure how well it’s working, bedside manner is something she’s still working on, but. “Remember me? Shuzenji? Shuzenji Chiyo?”

The nest shifts again, bunches of sheets and a lone pillow pushed to the side. A head emerges. Small, smaller then a child, smaller than an infant, soft-looking white fur dusting a snout that comes to a tapered point at the nose: not quite a rat, not quite a dog, not quite a bear. Not quite a lot of things.

Chiyo’s read his file—or skimmed it, at least-- and the amount of species they hybridized to make him escapes even her.

He nods.

“Good! That’s good.” He glances pointedly beyond her, at the now-locked door, and Chiyo sags. “Right. I know, I said I was going to get help, but…”

Well.

Her predicament is as plain as the bruises she imagines are blossoming on her face. A handful of ruptured blood vessels, something she could heal as easy as breathing— if it wasn’t herself who was injured. Every quirk has a drawback. She just…feels her own more keenly, sometimes.

He nods again. It’s good, that he’s grasped at least a rudimentary understanding of Japanese and body language. Without the little confirmations of assent— they’d all be at square one, surely. He’s not the easiest person to read, not human in the truest sense.

“Well,” Chiyo sighs. “Do you mind scooting over?”

He considers her for a few moments, then shifts onto his haunches, making an odd sort of rolling motion with his shoulders. What is he…?

Oh. He’s shrugging. She thinks he’s shrugging?

She successfully sits down beside him without consequence, anyway, the soft fabrics of his nest a welcome change from the cold cement of the floor. It’s disgusting. Even if— she refuses to call him subject 47, even in her head. Even if he was just an animal, this room wouldn’t cut it. Where’s the enrichment?

Disgusting.

Something warm brushes against her side, and he clambers up the nest, overlarge paws balancing precariously on her right arm. He leans heavily into her space— examining her? No, not quite. Her injuries.

“It’s fine,” she tells him. “Just some bruises.” Shiny black eyes glitter; pointed face set into an expression of clear dissatisfaction. Did he learn that? “Broken blood vessels,” she elaborates. “Under the skin.”

He pokes her cheek.

“Ow.”

Again.

“That hurts.”

A third time. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t comprehend what he’s doing. Someone could generously interpret the expression on his face as a smile, if they squinted, and Occam’s razor: it’s more likely than a grimace or a snarl.

“That’s mean, you know.”

He freezes like a particularly inventive stuffed animal a few inches from Chiyo’s face. Pokes his tongue out, just a little. ‘Blep’. Oh, that’s adorable.

This is, what. Confusion? That would be what catches him flat-footed. “Bad,” she explains. “Because it makes someone else feel bad. Poking someone when you know it hurts is mean.”

He seems to file the information away.

Chiyo sighs, and curls up around the lone pillow, her companion scrambling to maintain eye contact. “People don’t talk to you much, do they?”

He shakes his head.

Chiyo buries her face in the sheets. “Disgusting,” she mutters, then a handful of less-polite words, muffled by the fabric. A tug on her hair— she raises her head. “Alright,” she says. “Got it. No hiding from you, huh?”

He shakes his head.

She laughs.

A moment passes, and then: a soft chittering noise, then another pause, then a chuff chuff chuff. He’s mimicking her, Chiyo thinks wonderingly: learning. “Deeper,” she tells him. “Like— hah.”

There it is. Not quite a laugh, but you can tell what it’s supposed to be, now.

“Alright.” Chiyo doesn’t sit up, but curls up on her side at an angle congruent with talking. “I need to call you something.”

He stares unblinkingly at her, then down, at the wristband cinched tight around his left wrist.

47, and then the longer string of numbers that designates his full serial number, if you wanted to get technical. It’s Chiyo’s turn to shake her head.

“I’m not calling you that,” she says. “A serial number isn’t… a proper name. It’s what you give things, not people.”

He watches her.

“I’m a person,” she tells him, gesturing at herself. “You’re a person.” She gestures at him. “We’re both people, and people have names. Like… Shuzenji Chiyo. Or…”

Is it rude, to name another person? Does she have the right? He’s a child, not an infant. But what else to do…?

“It’ll just be a nickname. Not…for good, until you can pick your own.” There. Better to lead with that. “You did the—” she sticks out her tongue. “Like a cat. Maybe…Neko?”

She’s never claimed to be creative.

Her companion (Neko?) doesn’t respond. Chiyo squints at him, curled up in a little ball at her side, and… oh. He’s asleep.

She supposes that’s probably what he was doing before she got tossed in the room.

Chiyo’s head’s buzzing to loudly to even think about rest: battered and bruised and stuck in the room with Neko and the blinding white light bouncing off sterile white walls. She closes her eyes anyway.

She can’t rest, but she can think. There’s gotta be—some way, out of here, if she can just…

…if she can just…

Playing hero is harder than it looks.

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sempainope-blog · 7 years

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I am become Death

Title: “I am become Death” AO3

Length: Ongoing

Rating: Mature for language, sexual content, violence, possible torture, possible non con/sexual assault,

Pairings: Jyn/Cassian/Bodhi, Peripheral Baze/Chirrut

Summary: A Knights of Ren/Rogue One AU fic. This is the first mission that the Knights have been separated on, and it is the first one that they have been trusted to do without supervision, but then, no mission has been so important.

Author’s note: Though Rogue One is probably my favorite of the new Star Wars movies, I was a little let down that the terrible fate that the trailers alluded to (Saw Gerrera's "What will you do when they catch you? What will they become?") didn't come to pass. I freely acknowledge that I'm a terrible person (also, maybe, a bit of a sadist), for wanting them to be captured and turned to the dark side.

I also freely acknowledge that I don't know all the ins and outs and finer details of the Star Wars universe. It's been years since I read any of the Star Wars novels but the love has never gone away. There will be tweaks as I work. The only thing I know for certain at this point, is where the story is going and that it is Rook, Andor, and Erso centric. Haha, please bear with me. I may be needing a betareader...

It had come again; intangible, pure, more real than real, and horrible. Heat; unending and suffocating, rolled over her and crushed the air from her lungs. There was nothing she could see, nothing she could hear, beyond the roar of her blood in her ears. The first time she had told one of their keepers about the dream, he had reassured her that the mind made up all sorts of things. Meditation and focusing on training would help, he had said, but years of both of those things had not diminished the visions. If anything, she wondered if they were becoming more real. Even now, hours and hours from waking, she felt her skin prickle in anticipation of the heat.

“Miss?” The blue-skinned owner of the inn they sat in smiled expectantly at her from behind the counter of the bar. The Rogue blinked her impossible dream away, realizing belatedly that the innkeeper’s serving droid had rolled up to her and parked itself at her side. The tray clipped to the unit’s body held a fogged glass pitcher, the contents turning the glass a milky green. Judging from how the liquid was completely still in the glass, the droid had been sitting there waiting for her decision for at least a little while. The Rogue’s companion chuckled quietly, his deep brown eyes steady on her face as if he’d been watching her for a time, too.

“I think we have both had more than enough,” He said, his amusement threaded through his soft voice. His face turned towards the innkeeper, though his eyes lingered on her face for a moment more.

The Rogue ignored him and favored the blue-skinned woman a small smile, bobbing her head slightly in agreement. As if she would allow herself to become intoxicated on mission. The muscles around her lips felt stiff and she wondered if it was as obviously insincere as it felt. If it was, the innkeeper missed it and the droid...well, it was a serving droid. The creature beeped in comprehension and rolled back towards the pantry room. It swiveled its head back to look at them again, as if giving them a last chance to change their mind before disappearing past the pantry door.

It had taken them twenty-three days, twenty-three days of talking and negotiating and making pleasantries, to narrow down the location. Saying that it had been painful and a stretch of her skills would be an understatement. Now, with the target so close, the Rogue felt her mask of warmth and humanity giving way to her impatience. Those extroverted characteristics that made infiltration easy: charisma, a bubbly sense of humor, friendliness; they just weren’t in her nature, if they ever had been.

Of all of their rank, the Rogue never managed to blend in as well or for as long as the others. They were all of them, perfect, near-exact replicas of some long-forgotten human war heroes but something about her unnerved people. The Sniper claimed it was her eyes that gave it away. How they were flat and hungry as a colo claw fish most of the time. The Heavy had been more prosaic about it and had chalked it up to the alterations and additions that had been made to their genetic sequence. There had been almost nothing left of the sources for their genetic templates and some human traits were inherently undesirable to the Supreme Leader to begin with, so the Kaminoans had filled in the gaps and tweaked what existed to order.

Any reasons why the Supreme Leader had insisted on these particular humans for the project was insight into a wisdom that far surpassed the Rogue’s comprehension. It wasn’t deemed necessary information for them to know, and she had never bothered to ask. It hardly seemed important.

Rising up, the Rogue looked over the inside of the inn and meandered towards one of the four narrow windows set in the rounded inn walls. The road was just visible in the dying sunlight, a thin silver-blue ribbon winding over the lush, hilled land. It was clear and empty, and in the distance, the soft glow of the closest colony flickered like a candle. It was more than two hours from the inn by foot but with all the quiet of the countryside, blaster fire would probably carry.

That was fine; blasters weren’t the Rogue’s favorite short-range weapon anyways. Her thumb slid along the top of the belt strapped around her waist before hooking above the handle of her nightstick.

There were strict laws in this region of space, laws fueled by some sort of ridiculous, rabid cultish fervor and the collective unhealed trauma from the Empire’s occupation that prevented the presence of any non-indigenous military presence or bounty hunters from roaming without close observation. That had ruled out their life-sustaining armor in favor for something that, unfortunately, screamed tourist and traveler. The Rogue had been quick to protest but as the Knights and this mission weren’t supposed to exist, it was unavoidable. It had also been a direct order, so. That had settled that.

The Armory’s dark khaki green tunic was the cheap, common kind that could be found at most trading posts with long sleeves and enough folds and pockets to hide all sorts of useful things. The black, high-necked, and long sleeved shirt that the tunic was wrapped over was made of a more expensive and deceptively tough knife-resistant fabric, but a person would have to be looking for that particular detail to notice it. His pants, leg wraps, and shoes were black and all looked to be of the same trading post origin as the shirt.

Weapons were also highly regulated, which meant the most deadly thing the Armory had on his person was a single law-congruent stun pistol, and a crescent-bladed knife hanging off of the utility belt cinched around his middle. The several vials of poison discreetly tucked out of sight were somewhat less legal but they had no intention of staying on this planet past the midnight hour.

The Armory’s dark hair hung loose about his head in a thick, heavy fall that reached his shoulders. It was hardly regulation nor very practical in a fight, but it suited him. The short facial hair that framed the Armory’s mouth and swept up his jaw bone kept his features from appearing too much younger than his twenty-two years and brought balance to the pronounced bridge of his nose and hollowed cheeks. The warm tone of his brown skin easily hid the fact that he wasn’t often exposed to sunlight, quite unlike the Rogue’s. And with his large, friendly eyes that drew people in and a face that leant itself best to smiling, the pair might as well be night and day. That approachability was something the Rogue used to be jealous of for the attention it brought him, but she had ultimately learned to play to her strengths.

The Rogue had brought no weapons aside from herself and a more tame nightstick than the one that usually accompanied her. It hung openly at her waist over a knee-length gray tunic and a twin of the black, stab-resistant shirt that the Armory wore. Her own cinnamon brown hair had been pulled back into no-nonsense braid that had then been twisted into itself and pinned as a bun at the back of her head.

There wasn’t a trace of rouge on her lips or kohl around her eyes, something that the Sniper had pestered her for not caring about. When he hadn’t let up, she rewarded him with a quick sweep of her leg to knock the Sniper’s out from under him and send him crashing heavily down onto the floor. Though the memory of his stunned expression and how he had rubbed at his bruised tailbone brought amusement to the Rogue, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he hadn’t been completely wrong.

A little makeup might have actually made her more approachable...but probably not. If it wasn’t her “colo-claw-fish-eyes” and standoffish demeanor that put strangers off, her sharp tongue inevitably cut away any amicable connections with would-be allies. The knowledge that they had managed at the inn for the past several hours without her offending anyone wasn’t much of a consolation.

The inn wasn’t particularly large to begin with but the Armory and the Rogue were its sole guests. The upper floor housed four rooms to let out to guests while the main floor served as a modest eatery and watering hole for the locals. A place like this probably got more than enough business but it was the off-season now, and the cusp of the second harvest which meant the only people traveling were those who absolutely had to. The inn itself would be closed in another day or two until the cold season was over and planting was complete. It was unlikely anyone would be stumbling in on them.

The Rogue tapped her fingers impatiently along the handle of her nightstick as she started to calculate their odds of being interrupted, then dismissed the thought before it was complete. If the Armory had done his job and the Sniper was currently doing his, it would be impossible.

“I’m sorry, but we must impose even further on you,” The Rogue said suddenly. Her voice was rough and slightly hoarse from disuse, an unpleasant contrast to the calm ease that filled the room. “We were directed here by some mutual friends. We were told you help people find what they’re looking for. Things from the war against the Empire.”

The Armory moved his arms from where he had them leaning against the tabletop to drop one casually across his lap and within easy reach of a quick draw of his stun gun. The other he braced on the bench he sat on as he looked between the Rogue and the innkeeper with nothing more than polite curiosity on his face. He was still planning on getting what they needed without violence. That was not a priority for the Rogue.

The tense moment of silence that followed the Rogue’s words erased any remaining doubt she had as to whether they had the right target. Tension drew the innkeeper’s posture ruler-straight behind the counter of the bar and her lips thinned.

Did the innkeeper know she was prey? If she didn’t, she would find out very quickly. A thrill tickled up the Rogue’s spine and she licked her dry lips in anticipation.

“I don’t. Not anymore.” The Innkeeper said shortly. “Not for years.”

The Armory’s head tilted minutely towards the door to the pantry in an unspoken warning. The droid had returned to the entrance to the main hall, surveying the scene unfolding before it in silence. The Rogue nodded slightly; she’d destroy it soon enough but her focus was on their target.

“I’m just an innkeeper. I don’t want trouble,” She said, raising her voice. One of the Rogue’s eyebrows quirked at the foolishness of the act. Undoubtedly, the innkeeper hoped that someone would hear her but the roads were as empty as the inn nearly was.

“Then indulge us a little. You said years, but our mutual friends said you helped move some Imperial relics six weeks ago. That’s a bit short of the years you say it’s been since you were involved in any smuggling.” The warm smile that had first come to the Armory’s face when the innkeeper had offered them more to drink had never left. Only now, it was twisted into something considerably more focused and less inviting.

The Rogue’s heart skipped when she saw the sweat beading across the woman’s forehead and she slid her fingers around the fabric-bound handle of her weapon.

Prey, the Rogue’s blood sang with excitement, unworthy prey.

Fear tightened the innkeeper’s lips and the Rogue’s eyes measured her, waiting. Would the innkeeper run? There was nowhere to go. No, judging from how the Chiss had drawn closer to the countertop of the bar and had been moving her arms in tiny, stiff motions beneath the counter, she probably had a weapon trained on them at that very moment.

Good. The Rogue preferred an open fight.

Inhale, exhale...Inhale, exhale...

Inhale- A burst of red blaster fire exploded through the thin front board of the counter but the Rogue was ready for it.

In a blur of motion, the Rogue swung aside and closed the distance between them. Her nightstick swung up and the metal-capped end smashed across the woman’s mouth with enough force to send her spinning to the floor. Blood spattered the floor in a spray and the Rogue bared her teeth in a predatory grin.

A sudden, shrill siren-like tone raised loud enough to rattle the teeth in their heads and stole the flush of victory from the Rogue.

The damned droid-!

The windows shuddered in their frames, cracks starting to splinter out along the panes. The Armory had clapped his hands over his ears in an ineffective attempt to dampen the piercing shrill; his stun gun still clutched in one hand. None of his weapons would be effective against the metal creature. In a single motion, the Rogue twisted the handle to electrify the lower end of the shaft and turned to deal with the droid. Her weapon wasn’t ideal for disabling it, but-

Behind the Rogue, glass dust and twisted metal shrapnel exploded out from where a window once was. She grit her teeth against the sudden flash of heat she felt across her cheek as the first blaster bolt passed her and slammed into the droid’s eye lenses. Another bolt blasted into the body of the droid, shearing straight through it’s plating to fry the circuits and cut off its screams. Steam and chemical vapor curled up from the droid, filling the air with the acrid smell of burning plasteel and circuitry but it was silent.

Kriffing hell.

The Rogue cast a glowering look out the shattered window and into the darkness. Subtlety was clearly off the table, but the innkeeper and her droid had seen to that.

Hopping the counter, the Armory landed lightly beside the innkeeper and kicked the blaster out of reach. Placing a booted foot on the innkeeper’s shoulder, he shoved her onto her back.

The nightstick had knocked three of the Chiss’ teeth clean free, cracked several others, and from the blood and saliva that oozed out from her lips, she’d probably bitten into her tongue, too. The Rogue’s nose wrinkled at the sight, not at all trying to hide her amused disgust at her own handy work.

“Well that was foolish of you,” The Armory commented as he glanced back at the smoldering droid. When the innkeeper let out a moan, he looked back down. Dropping weightlessly into a crouch that would have made most knees creak, the Armory placed the flat of his dagger under the innkeeper’s chin.

“Focus.” When the innkeeper’s disoriented gaze wandered, he tapped the flat of the blade against the innkeeper’s lower jaw. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but it definitely got the woman’s attention.

“I have connections-! High up friends that will come after you for this!!” She spat, blood from her broken teeth staining her blue lips purple.

“We’re ghosts, my friend,” The Armory replied as the Rogue moved in closer. His voice was gentle but confident. “No one can catch ghosts. Now, you were just telling us about those Imperial relics...”

The innkeeper’s resolve broke fast, certainly faster than her femur did, but the Armory and the Rogue were nothing if not thorough and there would be no stopping until they had agreed they knew everything.

#rogueknights #sniperpilot #rebelcaptain #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one #cassian andor #jyn erso #bodhi rook #star wars

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top1course · 4 years

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How To Ask for BIG Money – How To Sell High-Ticket Products & Services Ep. 8

youtube

To always say those who are afraid to buy always afraid to sell write this down, don’t be afraid of I always afraid to sell, yes, yes, okay, can I ask what’s your name, what what what was the Pod how much a bottle at Hollister 4520, 5 Min. You never bought anything like that right, one thing that works for me, okay, is, that I would immerse myself in an environment where luxury is, oh, I want to get more comfortable, what I was getting started when I what was a copywriter I love you know how that’s how I got started as a copywriter it was charging $5, to begin with and I $1,000 and it eventually $10,000 to create a marketing campaign for clients, so one of the things I did it when I want to because my mental was forcing me to buy price, whatsyourprice, another one, and he said I want you to practice in front of mirror, Cooling the tangram, just getting comfortable, cardinals, you look like, ask me how much I charge and does my reply, what country am I, no way in hell man right now so I practice practice, and put a mirror look in the face, how much how much is Disney $5000000, you say it’s no big deal, that’s first time getting comfortable asking, believe me if you practice with mirror a lot of your body language would give it away, you like you’re trying to be, brittanya confident, okay you want to practice that you are congruent or what, yeah the way you say it’s how you say it so that’s number one practice asking for a lot of money, practice asking for a lot of money you got to practice, how to get a lot of money, and don’t blank is not, sometimes it’s $10,000, I can give you a deal, installment plan, $10,000, is 100, it’s a million dollars, yeah so that’s one and second thing also what I did is I immerse myself remember I would go to, the hotel was able to, pacific yes Y no money, i will go there and I will go just have to sit there, just sit there and I’m just read, and just do my work because I was only embarrass myself in that kind of environment, and eventually maybe more money order cup of coffee right, it eventually get more money I would have meetings there, then eventually you could stay there right that’s kind of how I immersed myself in, one of the things I recommend and it’s going to the next couple of slides, there’s a magazine out there, magazine out there called the Robb Report Robb Report, shipping, they can ship, no, nobody sitting on magazine racks all the time, Robert Porter.

That’s one of the exercise advice from, he said the average, the average net worth of the people who read the, the Fortune Magazine, is $400,000, fortune Magazine the average people who read his 4 million, he said read the magazine expand your comfort zone, what you think it’s a lot of money so that it doesn’t feel like a lot of money, so you look at the wrong report, they’re not selling like Mercedes or BMW right, does selling Bugatti, they selling $1,000, chair for $100,000, you’re not selling like both they’re selling a f****** yard I can park a helicopter on, it just expense write off, what’s 5 million, andover read those things like, it changes, your concept of how you view Money, and you look at these things oh my God they’re people, affluent clients, spending that kind of money, and it just itches and changes in Minecraft, Because, so what we bought right, road report, yeah and they talked about the craziest things, the craziest things, limited edition, it one., it’s crazy, absolutely crazy, but the expensive computer, and what’s also interesting going back sound of flowing clients they are selling to affluent clients, notice the language they use, the way that one the ass, you don’t see the magazine, buy one get one free, get 30% off before this deadline, you just don’t see that it’s a whole different verbal language the way they use, graphic everything of yours, this actually, a an ad in there a matchmaking, target specifically what it is, what is an ad-lib in money to have a long time it’s a matchmaking like service dating service, $100,000, $100,000, way better than order of matchmaking did I have no clue, it must be is honest man, i don’t know but the way they are selling it, The way they say they go through the process that the interview process and whatever, who cares right, but it’s very very very very educational, flip 2 it is fascinating, it’s fascinating, the ultimate, stop selling to poor people, stop selling to poor people, make the money first, aAA, that’s perfectly fine place of business, it’s just it’s a very not impossible, but is very very difficult, and this is not the way I want to make my money, i don’t want to sell the people’s got no money, 10 times your finances 10 times your business 10 times your marketing, 10 * your life hit the Subscribe button now.

from WordPress https://top1course.com/how-to-ask-for-big-money-how-to-sell-high-ticket-products-services-ep-8/

#People & Blogs #become an entrepreneur #build a business #business success #create a business #dan l

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sophie-zadeh · 4 years

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Prince Andrew Epstein Scandal Interview: Body Language and Statement Analysis

When Husband (Lee) asked me recently whether I’d be analysing Prince Andrew’s body language, I said, I couldn’t because I’ve been time-poor, organising our new workshops/events in January–be sure to check them out if you’re in Perth, Australia. Next thing, Lee was analyzing it for me! Thank you Husband ❤️.

Lee learned everything about nonverbal communication through me and I have to say, he’s great at it. I’m not taking credit for this, because it’s easy to learn—the hardest part is in learning to observe and in practise, without that, the knowledge goes nowhere.

Lee claims I’m better, but there are some things he picks up on and I don’t—and vice versa. I tend to focus on the face, while Lee focuses on the body. It’s impossible to focus on both the body and face together, therefore, together we make a killer team!

He analysed over 40 minutes, and found so many red flags it was jaw-dropping! I’m going to select the bits that are the most significant, otherwise, I’ll be writing and you’ll be reading forever. Here’s the video…

Prince Andrew & the Epstein Scandal: The Newsnight Interview - BBC News

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As I look through Lee’s giant list of red flags, there are many behaviours which come up in the interview over and over again, so I’ll start by listing these nonverbal behaviours and their meanings.

Common Nonverbal Behaviours and their Meanings

Eyelid Flutter

A sign of high cognitive load, which usually comes with overwhelming emotion and/or stress. It’s an ‘oh my gosh!’ or ‘wtf’ moment, usually seen when somebody is struggling to gather their thoughts or find the right words. When you see this, know that the brain is in turmoil, the person is struggling. It’s an involuntary reaction, so seeing this shows genuine emotion–it can’t be concealed.

Incongruent Head Shake or Nod

Any behaviour which shows an incongruence with spoken words is significant and points towards deception. However, a head shake can be misleading, because sometimes it reflects the person's thoughts, which could be different from what they are answering. This sounds confusing, I’ll give you an example… A head shake is common when talking about something traumatic, but while saying something affirmative. This comes from disbelief of the situation. As an example, Kellie from The Thank You Project says, “His dad loved him so much”, while shaking her head. The head shaking stemming from disbelief at what happened (husband died instantly in a car accident), as opposed to her being deceptive. It’s very common to see a disbelief headshake while people say something affirmative, so we need to be careful not to always assume deception.

There can be cultural differences with head shaking and nodding too, although, there is some evidence that bonobos, our close relatives, shake their heads to communicate negative, suggesting it could be universal.

Eye Block

An eye block shows dislike–we want whatever the source of dislike is, to disappear, so we close our eyes momentarily. It looks like a long blink. When young children are faced with something they dislike, often they cover their eyes with their hands. This is an innate behaviour that even congenitally blind children display (children who are born blind). As children grow up they learn to conceal their emotions, modifying behaviours to fit in with social norms. So by the time we are adults, the behaviour has adapted to a more discrete behaviour, less likely to give away our true emotion.

Shoulder Shrug

These are involuntary so represent genuine emotion.

Double Shoulder Shrug (both shoulders)

This means the person has confidence or believes in what they are saying, pointing towards the truth–or what they believe to be the truth.

Single Shoulder Shrug (one shoulder)

This means the person isn’t so confident in what they are saying, pointing towards deception. But it’s not always significant. Significance depends on what the person is talking about when they use it. For example, it can be present when someone is giving a statistic which has been rounded up/down, so it isn’t exact, not quite the truth, but it’s easier to remember or say. Often we see this when for whatever reason there is additional information to give, but it’s not the right time to say it. An example is when someone has limited time and needs to get the gist across–there’s more too it, but they need to take a short cut.

Prince Andrew Body Language & Statement Analysis

1:04

Eyelid flutter, while explaining he met Epstein through Epstein’s girlfriend in 1999. Although not significant in the grand scheme of things, my concern here is that something is not right for him to have such a reaction–remember this is emotional turmoil/high cognitive load. We have to ask ourselves—Why could explaining how he met Epstein or mentioning Ghislaine Maxwell (Epstein’s girlfriend, British socialite and daughter of publishing tycoon and fraudster Robert Maxwell) create such a reaction?

I have a feeling there is more going on here surrounding Prince Andrew’s relationship with Epstein’s girlfriend. What’s interesting is he also shakes his head when he says, “I’ve known her since she was at university in the UK”. Perhaps this isn’t a truthful statement and he knew her before this. Maybe there’s something surrounding Prince Andrew’s relationship with Ghislaine Maxwell, that if known, would cause another scandal. 🧐

2:45

Incongruent headshake, as he states “… but then after I got married I was very happy”. Followed by a single shoulder shrug (not confident in his statement) as he says, “I’ve never really felt the need to go party”. There are more eyelid flutters here too.

5:05

Note, at this point, Prince Andrew’s thumbs are up in a steepling position, indicating positive emotion and wisdom.

Emily Maitlis

“We now know, that he was and had been procuring young girls for sex trafficking.”

Prince Andrew’s thumbs withdraw (dislike/discomfort) and his fingers interlock, indicating negative emotion and heightened stress. His head moves backwards slightly, a distancing behaviour. He’s not comfortable with the statement and wants to distance from it psychologically. His blink rate increases and he licks his lips, two more indicators of stress.

Prince Andrew

“We now know that. At the time there was no indication (congruent head shake) to me (emphasis on words ‘to me’, short eyelid flutter, pause), or anybody else (eyelid flutter), that that was what he was doing.”

What’s interesting here from a statement analysis perspective, is that that he specifies there was no indication “to me”, pausing before following with, “or anybody else”.

If it was going on somebody must have had an indication of it—all of those involved for starters, therefore, “or anybody else” is a deceptive statement full stop.

The fact that he states “to me” indicates there is another option (“anybody else”) in his mind when he said, “to me”. An honest statement would sound more like “there was no indication that that was what he was doing”. Typically, when people are being honest, they usually take the shortest route to say it.

“And certainly (eyelid flutter), when I saw him either in the United States (pause, false start), or no, when I saw him in the United States ( 🚩 corrects himself), or when I was staying in his houses in the United States (eyelid flutter), there was no indication, absolutely no indication” (eye block/dislike 🚩).”

Notice he specifically references the US alone. What’s interesting is the photograph of Prince Andrew with the accuser was taken in Ghislaine Maxwell’s townhouse in London. It’s also interesting that he specifically mentions, “in his houses in the US”. His first statement, “in the United States” should cover Epstein’s houses, without having to mention houses specifically.

Also note, after his first statement, “when I saw him either in the United States”, Prince Andrew corrects himself, without the ‘either’ or reference to other places. There are plenty of red flags here, he’s being picky about where there ‘was no indication’, suggesting things were going on in some locations, outside the US or Epstein’s homes.

“And if there was (gulp, pause, change in speech direction/false start 🚩). You have to remember that at the time (steepling thumbs/hands), I was Patron of the NSPCC’s Full Stop campaign ( 🚩qualifying statement so we think more highly of him/have more trust) and was close up 🚩with what was going on in those, um, ah, (slight change in direction) time about getting rid of abuse to, to children, so I knew what was (🚩 false start), what the things were to look for but I never saw them.”

“And if there was”, suggests an alternative was in Prince Andrew’s mind. This is a huge red flag. He’s suggesting there could have been an indication that something was going on, even though he has just said there wasn’t. What was he going to say next, before he changed his direction in speech to cover up, whilst throwing in a qualifying statement?

I can’t ignore that, “close up” seems wrong here. Typically we’d hear “I was well up”, “I was knowledgable” or “I knew”. Was, “close up” used becasue he was involved?

There are a number of red flags within the statements we’ve just looked at. Prince Andrew is making an attempt to be very careful about how he says things. How many of these false starts are him being careful about phraseology and how many are slips of the tongue. When people are experiencing high levels of stress and a high cognitive load (as indicated by a large number of eyelid flutters), they are more likely to slip up. There is simply not enough capacity left to think clearly.

I should add that the overriding emotional expression is fear, as seen in the activation of the upper eyelids. As a result, we see more of the whites of his eyes. There are also twitches in his mouth at times indicating fear, in which the mouth stretches outwards at the sides, both, when closed and when talking.

6:16

Emily Maitlis

“Just for the record, you’ve been on his private plane”

Emily Maitlis

“you’ve been to stay on his private island”

Prince Andrew

“Yes” (eyelid flutter and eye block 🚩)

Emily Maitlis

“You’ve stayed at his home in Palm Beach?”

Prince Andrew

“Yes”

Emily Maitlis

“You’ve visited Ghislaine Maxwell’s house in Belgravia in London ?”

Prince Andrew

“Yes” (significant eyelid flutter 🚩)

Epstein’s private Island and Ghislaine Maxwell’s house in London are the two, out of four, places mentioned, where Prince Andrew has significant involuntary nonverbal reactions. Good on you Emily for mentioning these places one by one. And thanks Prince Andrew for enlightening us as to where we should dig deeper to seek the truth. That said, there is already photographic evidence of Prince Andrew and his accuser at Ghislaine Maxwell’s house in London.

7:10

Emily Maitlis

“He never discussed with you the fact that an arrest warrant had been issued?”

Prince Andrew

“No”

As Prince Andrew says, “No”, his cluster of nonverbal behaviours are almost comical. I’m tempted to say this is an outright lie, but to stay true to what I always say—that nonverbal behaviour can only guide us to the truth, without directly indicating a lie—I can’t say it!

We see a series of eyelid flutters in between an extreme high blink rate (stress indicator) and an exaggerated head shake—Prince Andrew’s deliberate attempt to signal, “No”.

We also see a movement in his mouth, which I suspect is a self-soothing/pacifying gesture, ironically, his tongue in cheek (right cheek)—if it isn’t his tongue, he’s biting on his cheek.

8:17

Emily Maitlis

“He was released in July, within months, by December 2010, you went to stay with him at his New York mansion. Why? Why were you staying with a convicted sex offender?”

Prince Andrew’s tongue juts out momentarily as Emily Maitlis says, “New York mansion”. This is distinct from a lip lick (a stress indicator). A tongue jut is seen when we make a mistake or slip up, or when we think we’ve got away with something. I’m guessing the former in this case.

As she finishes her question, Prince Andrew’s head moves back once again, as he physically and psychologically distances from the question.

Prince Andrew

“Right. I have always, er (false start), ever since this has happened (eye blocking and gesturing as if to go back), and since this has become, um, as it were public knowledge that I was there, I have questioned myself as to why did I go and what was I doing and was it the right thing to do (microexpression of contempt).”

Hang on–stop right there! Prince Andrew just specified he’s questioned himself whether it was the right thing to do “since this has become… public knowledge”. I would expect anyone to question whether it was the right thing to do, regardless of whether it was public knowledge or not. The fact that he specifically states, “since this has become public knowledge”, is very telling. This is especially the case for ‘a person’ (that’s me using distancing language) that is in such a position of power and privilege—whose existence is funded by taxpayers money. Is my anger showing?

“Now I went there with the sole purpose of saying to him, that because he had been convicted, it was inappropriate for us to be seen together”

Again, stop right there—“inappropriate for us to be seen together”! Really? No other reason than the public shouldn’t see them together? Nothing about Epstein doing the wrong thing and not wanting to be a part of that?

Prince Andrew can step out of his shoes, with the awareness of how the public would view this, but doesn’t seem to view Epstein’s behaviour as being out of order. If his moral standards are on par with Epstein’s, it’s more likely he’d indulge in the same behaviours.

10:05

Emily Maitlis

“What did he say when you told him that you were breaking up the friendship?”

Prince Andrew

Eyelid flutter.

“He was what I would describe as understanding. Erm, he didn’t go into any great depth (single shoulder shrug/not confident in what he’s saying 🚩), um, in the conversation about what I was doing, what he was doing (corrects himself 🚩).”

That’s an interesting verbal slip! What were you doing Prince Andrew?

“Um, except to say that, that, er, (incongruent head shake), er, he’d accepted whatever it was—a plea bargain he’d served his time, um, and, er, he was carrying on with his life. Excuse me. And I said yes, but I’m afraid to say that, that, that, that, that’s as, may be, um, but with all the attendant scrutiny on me, then I don’t think it is a wise thing to do.

This reaffirms his earlier statement, that his sole concern was how it would make him look.

12:38

Prince Andrew

“I, I admit fully that, that, that my judgement was probably coloured by my, erm, tendency to be too honourable, but that’s (single shoulder shrug 🚩 ) just the way it is.”

The single shoulder shrug, says it all! 😂

12:38

Prince Andrew

“You have to understand that, that, that, his house, I, I described it more as a, a, almost as a railway station, if you know what I mean, in a sense that there were people coming in and out of that house all the time. Erm, what they were doing and why they were there, I had nothing to do with, so I’m afraid I can’t make any comment (single shoulder shrug 🚩) on that because I really don’t know (facial expression of contempt).”

The single shoulder shrug on, “I can’t make any comment”! Prince Andrew, your nonverbals are giving you away, please tell us what you know.

23:20

Emily Maitlis

“She provided a photo of the two of you together, your arm was around her waist. You’ve seen the photo?”

Prince Andrew

“I’ve seen the photograph” (eye block)

He doesn’t like the photo.

Emily Maitlis

“How do you explain that?”

Prince Andrew

“I can’t. Because (single shoulder shrug 🚩, eyelid flutter), I don’t, I have no, again (single shoulder shrug 🚩) I have absolutely no memory of that photograph ever been taken (expression of contempt and wringing hands/stress indicator).”

I love it when I see a ‘shrugger’, becasue their shoulders give away so much. Nonverbals are speaking loudly.

31:11

Emily Maitlis

“So, if Virginia Roberts (accuser) is watching this interview, what is your message to her?”

Prince Andrew

“I don’t have a message for her (eyelid flutter), because (single shoulder shrug 🚩, eye block) I have to have a thick skin. If somebody is (eyelid flutters) going to make those sorts of allegations, then (single shoulder shrug 🚩, eye block) I’ve just got to have a thick skin and get on with it (incongruent head shake). But, they never happened (microexpression of contempt).”

36:28

Emily Maitlis

“You seem utterly convinced you’re telling the truth. Would you be willing to testify or give a statement under oath, if you were asked?”

Prince Andrew

“Well I’m like anybody else (ongoing incongruent head shake), I’d have to take all the legal advice, erm, that there was (wrong tense) before I was to do that sort of thing (distancing language), but if push came to shove and the legal (audibly loud, sudden cough 🚩), legal advice was to do so, then I would be duty-bound to do so.”

Prince Andrew slips into the wrong tense here, “I’d have to take all the legal advice that there was”, instead of ‘is’, then continues in the wrong tense. When people are being deceptive, tenses are often mixed up. I’m guessing here he has already taken legal advice, it makes sense that he would have. Perhaps that advice has been he would need to do so–it just hasn’t come to push and shove as yet.

If you’d already seen the interview, what was your gut feeling at the time? Did you get the impression Prince Andrew was being deceptive? And did you consciously notice anything in particular that led you to that conclusion?

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vminity21 · 4 years

Text

Whimsical | knj [Sneak Peek]

Pairing: CollegeStudent!Namjoon X FinanciallyStruggling!Reader

Word Count: 2k (for now)

Genre: Aesthetic/Fluff

Warning(s): mild language use, otherwise none

Summary: In this spring based aesthetic, living paycheck to paycheck after moving to Gyeongju has done nothing but plague a bundle of stress upon you. Deciding to take a walk where the cherry blossoms bloom abundantly, you didn’t expect to run into an acquaintance of the past; and you definitely didn’t expect the measure he takes to make sure your burdens are lifted from your shoulders.

“What do you mean it costs this much?” When shock mingling with frustration forms into an exasperated sigh, your hand rakes through your hair in disbelief portraying the definition of stress in its purest authenticity. Your fingers that are curled around the auto insurance bill leave small indents behind when the dreaded piece of paper is now being placed upon the table. “Damnit,” tears flood your eyes while your palms shadow over your cheeks. You’ve already set money aside to save for the rent for your apartment along with your car payment as well as savings toward your electricity cost. Today, the discovery of your current expense being fifty more dollars than usual means that, yet another week goes by with surviving off the little groceries you have left stored in your pantry.

Shoving out of your jacket, the light air of spring has begun, and for once, you’d like to appreciate nature without the anxious feeling of life overwhelming your mind. Eyes scanning the vacancy of your apartment, loneliness returns, and the yearn to hear your mother’s voice has never felt so painful. It’s only been six months since you moved hours away for a job offer that you felt would be a good opportunity to further you into the career you’ve sought for. But, never in your existence did you dream that living paycheck to paycheck could bring so much misery, and hardly being able to speak to your mother has been weighing heavy on your conscience, but your determination to make her proud is what matters to you the most.

You miss those days more than you will profess, wishing you can relive them especially with what you’ve been enduring since your move. Gaze dropping to your shoes, hands in pockets- you gasp in surprise when your shoulder meets the figure of someone walking from the opposite direction,

“I’m sorry!” Panic is etched in your voice while you swiftly bow, a blush creeping to your cheeks in embarrassment when your steps quicken along the path. The tone belongs to a man who apologizes in return, yet your eyes keep there focus away from him; you’re very timid, something you’ve struggled with since the day you were born, and it’s hard enough to face your fears as it is, and uncertain on if the stranger would have been angry with you, you find it best to pretend it never happened. At least here, you feel safe alongside nature, and when the familiar sound of a rippling lake perks your auditory senses, a small tug of relief pulls at the corner of your lips, and the earlier chagrin of interrupting someone on their tread will no longer disturb your meditation.

You’ve seen this all before somewhere in the slumbers of imagination where your heart aches for peace such as this. Steeps of ornate mountains encompass the field in lavender shades collecting the finishing touches of scenery your dreams desire. But, there’s something different. Rather, the sense that you’re alone diminishing which prompts your vision to parade the panorama of daylight until a figure enters a distance ahead of you. A pile of wispy, light hair clears to reveal a man, eyes closed- the backs of his hands posed upon his knees leading to his fingers aimed upward mirroring the position you’re in. How he seems so close when he far away startles you even while you memorize the sight of his thick lips lying in a straight line of content.

Your head tilts in profound concentration of where you may have seen him- where you may have known him, but you come up empty, for here in this world of tranquility, you have not seen him here before. There’s a strange ponder of wanting to rise to your feet, but you lean forward instead, observing the slow rise and fall of his chest where he breathes in and out deeply. He’s clothed in white, darkening his already tanned skin- your stare tracing from his neck to see his face once more, and when your lids squint to study him,

He opens his eyes-

“Ma’am? Ma’am,” the echo of a calm voice breaks through enough to awaken your bleary eyes, “Ma’am, are you okay?” Drool gathered at the corner of your mouth you swipe with the hem of your sleeve; your eyes are sensitive from how bright it is outside, and it takes a moment for them to adjust once you turn your head gradually in order to remember where you are. The flowing trickles of water, the soreness of your back-scratching from the log of a tree, and the soft squeeze of a large hand on your shoulder alarms you enough to realize you fell asleep while reminiscing at the lake.

“We, uh, we um, ran into each other earlier,”

“Oh no,” shame shudders your shoulders when you press your forehead into your palm to lightly rub your eyes, “God, I’m so sorry-”

“No, no, it’s okay! Really, it’s okay. It was an accident-”

“I should have watched where I was going-”

“Well, I should have, too.”

With a creased forehead, your body is still recovering from your unexpected nap, and you’re trying to feign bravery to return your eyes to the stranger whose hair is hidden within a black beanie, yet blonde tufts brush the tips of his ears. Dimples illuminate his rising cheeks from the tiny grin embellishing his expression and dialogue disappears from your tongue at the noticing of how exquisite he is.

“Kim Namjoon,” his large hand swallows yours as it did minutes ago, but this time in a polite shake of greeting.

“I’m [Y/N],” you nod seeing his grin widen to cause a silent sweep of relief to your system.

“Wait a minute,” your eyelids enlarge from the recognition now embracing your thoughts. Flashbacks from high school smother you immediately when the images of a quiet persona who sauntered the hallways with the intelligence of an Einstein clicks on a lightbulb subconsciously. “I do know you, we-” wetting your lips, you stammer in fear of being wrong, “We went to the same grade school a few years ago. You- you beat me at the math competition! Wh- what brings you to Gyeongju?”

“College,” his voice is shaky for you to jolt at the realization that you’re still shaking his hand- roughly you might add, awkwardly releasing to return your limb to your side. It’s already humiliating enough to stand before him after plummeting into his side when first arriving to this destination, to then making a fool of yourself sleeping in front of him to also awaken to ruin all ounce of potential conversation you could have had. Preparing yourself for the worst, you wince, wishing you could slip under the covers of your bedroom to hide away forever. “What about you? Are you attending University here, too?”

“I- erm, about that-” There’s not a way for you to explain, because there isn’t much to say other than your heart belonged to another career path. “I received a job offer here. One that I thought would provide good benefits than my original plan, but it’s not what I expected,” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow igniting a surge in frantic slews of sentences from your mouth, “I mean, I love it. I really do, it’s- it’s what I love to do, but I guess- I want- I want more from it. But I don’t know how to- I-” Warm chuckles leave his lips that halts your rambling in a heartbeat, “I talk way too much, I’m sorry-”

“I’d love to!” Your fingertips shut your lips from the excitement you didn’t mean to interrupt him with, “I mean, I uh, I’d- I’d like that very much, thank you,”

To be continued....

#btswritingcafe #sneak peek #bts #kim namjoon #joon #joonie #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #2k #aesthetic #bts aesthetic

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foursprout-blog · 6 years

Text

This Is How It Goes

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/this-is-how-it-goes/

This Is How It Goes

Drew Wilson

Paris. You meet in a dark stairwell in the 18th arrondissement. The power is out and you’re standing near the open window on a landing in between some floors. It’s freezing. You shiver and blow shamefully small lungfuls of smoke out into the dewy November night. They betray your amateur, expatriate status so that no wool coat and no number of coats of mascara can conceal it, no matter how dark their shades of black.

Outside it smells like Paris rain—wet cobblestone, zinc roof, and a hint of your mother’s expensive perfume.

He comes up the stairs, a dark figure but undeniably male (you can tell from the footsteps-–they fall with ease, unlike the cautiousness of a woman’s feline patter).

“Pardon,” he breathes when he spots you. You nod and look back out of the window, take a drag of your cigarette, wait for him to pass. But he stays. You didn’t get a good look at him, in the dark, and are unsure whether to be wary.

He laughs a little, harmlessly, then asks in American English if you need a light.

“I’m sorry?” you ask.

“It’s just that–-” and he points to the thing in between your fingers, “your cigarette has gone out. I’d imagine it tastes pretty rotten about now.”

“Oh,” you flush, embarrassed, and nod. You have a light, but it seems easier to just accept the one he has already lit up before you. It illuminates the angles of his face-–a Roman nose that casts a shadow across the left side, a congruent chin below. He is older, though you can’t tell by how much. You lean close to the flame, then back again. The drag dizzies you a little.

“How did you know I wasn’t French?” you ask, excitement momentarily dulling your nerves.

He laughs again, and glances up to where your host’s door is. “You’re visiting Clara, in 13?”

You nod, slowly, your caution returned.

“She’s the only one in the building who makes her guests smoke outside. Maybe the only one in Paris, really.”

That’s funny, you laugh at that.

Or maybe that isn’t how you meet at all. Maybe you meet on a train platform. You have just bought a grown Chinese evergreen and had it potted–-an ordeal that relied more on hand gestures than language. It sits in a brown paper bag the woman at the flower shop insisted you take, so as not to dirty the lapels of your coat (hugging it to your chest is the only way you are able to carry it). But the bag is much too small and it is splitting at the corners, green leaves spilling over the brim, fighting for air. They cradle your face, swallow your nose. All you see is green and all you smell is the damp soil that always reminds you of your grandmother.

You don’t run into him or anything of that sort. There is no mess.

What happens is you manage to maneuver yourself into the station and make your way onto the platform without falling down stairs or onto rails. On the bench beside you is a man in a navy overcoat and a cloud of cigarette smoke. He nods a polite greeting, which you return. He returns to staring in the direction the train should approach from, and you follow. This is what people do.

But the train is uncharacteristically late and at some point, he offers you a cigarette. Whatever way you meet, it always, always involves a cigarette. A cigarette and some deception. But never a pause.

This is a lie. There is always a pause, always a few seconds onto which you will later hang all your regret, of which you will ask questions you cannot find answers to, in the depths of which you will search for a self-contempt so great that you should choose to take the Dunhill. It’s clearer in retrospect, but sometimes you swear the things were laced.

But it happens, and you meet.

“You aren’t French,” he states, rather than asks. His lips pinch into a smirk. You smile sheepishly and wonder what gave you away. Maybe your light hair. Maybe the fact that the edges of your shoulders are soft, the outlines of bony landmarks hidden by skin, not tissue paper.

You don’t notice the gray scattered in his hair until you wake up beside him. His Parisian blinds are rusty, so they can’t close completely, but the room is mostly dark except for the violet morning light that sneaks in and paints his form in stripes.

The “flat,” as you’ve trained yourself to call it, is large. You do not trust its emptiness. It looks too easy to abandon, like he could pack up his things–-some clothes in some armoire, some books on the desk-–in minutes and go back home, leave no trace of his existence there. You imagine yourself showing up to find the place deserted, the curtains billowing weakly in the breeze, and the French chatter from the Brasserie below the window flowing in and echoing off the white walls.

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he takes you to the opera. He wears a suit that looks expensive. You spend your entire paycheck on a coat you feel just barely passes for good enough.

His friends are all older and although they are nice enough, you are always missing jokes, limiting their conversation. There is an ever-present sense of something being left unsaid, and you glance from one face to the next, wondering if the joke you’ve missed is you.

When he tells you about his wife, you are lying in his bed, your poor excuse for armor strewn around the floor of his apartment. You build a shield out of the white sheet, wrap it around yourself like rolling paper. Some voice in your head scolds you for not having prepared for this, predicted this. You rush through questions in your mind: who do you want to be? How much are you worth? You pull the sheet up over your mouth and you grasp the fabric so tight that your fingers begin to prickle. He waits.

You know you should be angry at his casual revelation, but mostly you feel pain, and jealousy, and fear. You curl your body into him, hide beneath covers, hide beneath pillows, gut like knotted rope.

And you convince yourself that love is complicated, letting the months pass.

She becomes an abstract, faceless ghost. Just a fact. An asterisk. A footnote one glances at, simply to dismiss it before turning the page.

And you, you lose your own reflection. You lose weight. You wear black. You smoke cigarettes and say things like “Fabulous, isn’t it?” You walk through two arrondissements in nothing but a trench coat and kitten heels because he tells you to, and fall giggling into his arms when he opens his door. Bolder, you try to be older. You can do older. You can do sexy, even—you’re good at sex. But his every reaction, no matter how appreciative, feels humoring. As if he’s simply entertained. As if everything you do is for his amusement. You try harder, you leave your clothes around his flat, trying to add permanence.

But one day, he leaves.

And when he does, you cannot remember what you did before him. You cannot even remember what you thought of—as if back then you thought in a different language, the way you cannot remember things from the first nine years of your life. All of your plants have died from your neglect, your absence. From him you have a postcard—never sent, merely left on a console table. “Stay out of trouble,” it reads, in his professorial script. You throw it against the white wall but it catches the breeze from the window and floats ardently, slowly, down to the laminate floor. It lands with an apologetic echo.

Again, the city feels foreign. You leave it soon after, but you spend the remaining days writing him emails telling him you miss him, telling him you can come to him, reminding him of the places you went together and providing accurate descriptions of how different they now are.

He replies only to the last one. He says, “And yet Boston is painstakingly the same.”

You smoke the cigarettes he leaves behind.

#Happiness

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foursprouthappiness-blog · 6 years

Text

This Is How It Goes

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/this-is-how-it-goes/

This Is How It Goes

Drew Wilson

Outside it smells like Paris rain—wet cobblestone, zinc roof, and a hint of your mother’s expensive perfume.

He comes up the stairs, a dark figure but undeniably male (you can tell from the footsteps-–they fall with ease, unlike the cautiousness of a woman’s feline patter).

He laughs a little, harmlessly, then asks in American English if you need a light.

“I’m sorry?” you ask.

“It’s just that–-” and he points to the thing in between your fingers, “your cigarette has gone out. I’d imagine it tastes pretty rotten about now.”

“How did you know I wasn’t French?” you ask, excitement momentarily dulling your nerves.

He laughs again, and glances up to where your host’s door is. “You’re visiting Clara, in 13?”

You nod, slowly, your caution returned.

“She’s the only one in the building who makes her guests smoke outside. Maybe the only one in Paris, really.”

That’s funny, you laugh at that.

You don’t run into him or anything of that sort. There is no mess.

But it happens, and you meet.

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he takes you to the opera. He wears a suit that looks expensive. You spend your entire paycheck on a coat you feel just barely passes for good enough.

You know you should be angry at his casual revelation, but mostly you feel pain, and jealousy, and fear. You curl your body into him, hide beneath covers, hide beneath pillows, gut like knotted rope.

And you convince yourself that love is complicated, letting the months pass.

She becomes an abstract, faceless ghost. Just a fact. An asterisk. A footnote one glances at, simply to dismiss it before turning the page.

But one day, he leaves.

He replies only to the last one. He says, “And yet Boston is painstakingly the same.”

You smoke the cigarettes he leaves behind.

#Happiness

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sophie-zadeh · 4 years

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Nalder denies involvement in poll: Nonverbal analysis questions the truth behind his words

Over the past few days a damaging opinion poll, privately funded by Perth businessmen, came to light, showing political leadership could be in trouble. Western Australia's Premier Colin Barnett described the poll as an act of disloyalty.

Yesterday, Transport Minister Dean Nalder was interviewed regarding his involvement in commissioning the poll, an accusation he denied. In this post I'm going to highlight some of the nonverbal cues that Nalder signals throughout his interview.

As a Body Language Specialist I'm interested in what is being communicated on the whole, not just listening to what is being said. When communicating, most people focus their cognitive efforts on listening to the verbal content, yet in doing this they miss what is really being communicated; the truth behind the words. We all have the ability to filter and adapt the words we speak to conceal how we really feel, but none of us have the ability to conceal involuntary nonverbal behaviours that signal our true feelings.

I'm specifically looking for nonverbal signals that are incongruent with the spoken word, for example a head shake when we say "yes", or a nod when we say "no". Head shaking/nodding is not a universal gesture, in that it isn't uniform across all cultures, because some cultures do it differently. Therefore, it can't always be taken an incongruent. However, in this case (Nalder's interview), the cultural context allows us to take the head shake as negative, and a nod as affirmative. Any incongruence to this would signal a red flag, indicating not all is as it sounds.

Another incongruent behaviour that I'm going to highlight is the one sided shoulder shrug. This is one cue that I refer to a lot, when auditing for deception detection. Those of you that are familiar with my work will already be knowledgeable about this interesting nonverbal signal. It's an involuntary cue that signals that we don't have confidence in the words we speak. So it can be very significant in terms of deception detection, depending on the words it accompanies. Don't mix this up with a full shoulder shrug (two shoulders), which means we do have confidence in our words, a significant cue that points towards truth.

The third significant nonverbal cue that I should explain further is the eyelid flutter. We see these in abundance in this interview. It's an involuntary cue and signals discomfort or dislike. It can be triggered by stress, and is usually seen when someone says something we strongly disagree with, in people struggling with thoughts or in finding the right words. Think of it as an inner temper tantrum.

I've transcribed the interview taken from video footage in The West Australian's article: Act of disloyalty: Barnett hits back but won't sack Nalder. At relevant points, I've added the nonverbal signals, displayed by Nalder, that I find to be the most significant or interesting. Where I've added these nonverbal cues I've also added some questions that spring to mind, questions I feel should help to seek the truth, should they have been investigated further. Most of these questions I've added at the start, fill in with your own later on as an exercise in deception detection!

By the way, I should mention, if you're a journalist and you have some interesting footage that you'd like me to look at, at some point in the future, feel free to get in touch.

Bold text indicates an area of concern; a red flag. If we were investigating to seek the truth, these are the areas that would require further investigation. The nonverbal cues give us an indication that something is amiss, in direct response to the stimulus. The stimulus being either the words of Nalder himself or the questions from the reporters).

Here's the analysis:

Reporter: "What role have you played in the commissioning of this polling?"

Nalder: (Congruent head shake with the 'not face' universal expression [disagreement/disapproval/negation], eye block [closing of eyes = dislike], eyelid flutter), "Nothing."

Reporter: "You spoke to John Poynton though?"

Nalder: "Yes (congruent head nod) John, er, John has shared (congruent head nod) the results of the poll with me, er, quite a few days ago" (incongruent head shake. Was it more than a few days, exactly when did he first share this?) "...I was shocked at the results" (eyelid flutter. Were you truely shocked at the results or did you predict them?) "It's not something that I discuss publicly, er, I have..." (Nalder continues talking)

Reporter interrupts: "Did you know he was doing it before he showed you?" (Nalder responds with an eyelid flutter, whilst avoiding the question and continuing to talk)

Nalder: "I have shared it with a, er, with a couple of my colleagues" (eyelid flutter. Which colleagues? The right colleagues? A couple of colleagues? more or less?) "I discovered that, er, other people..." (eyelid flutter. Which other people?) "...had, er, also, er, shared the results with, er, members of parliament" (eyelid flutter. You're not happy with that?) "I don't know all those that are involved in, er, commissioning this poll" (eyelid flutter. Really? But you know some of them.) "I haven't had anything to do with commissioning or conducting any poll, er, and er, you know (the 'not face' expression) I stand beside (corrects self- filters/adapts words) behind the Premier." "I'm not looking to challenge (congruent head shake) the Premier, never have been." (possible, very subtle incongruent head nod) "Er, I think a lot of this stems from early comments the Premier made about, er, polls in the past where he would look to step aside. And I'll only say that..." (eyelid flutter. Do you have more to say?) "...I'll only ever contemplate my position, er, should (eyebrow raise to emphasise the word 'should') the Premier choose to step aside and I believe that's his decision."

Reporter: "Why not take the polling to the Premier himself (Nalder eyelid flutters) and warn him (Nalder eyelid flutters) that business men were doing this?"

Nalder: "I've tried to establish a meeting, er, with the Premier over a number of issues (eye block), for the last three weeks and I haven't (eyebrow raise to emphasise 'haven't') been able to get in and see him at all" (eyebrow raise to emphasise 'at all'. It seems he really isn't happy with this, there could be communication issues between Barnett and Nalder)

Reporter: "So you, you, it was, the, the meeting was planned that you, you would have alerted him to this?" (Nalder eyelid flutters)

Nalder: I've been trying to get a meeting with the Premier. I haven't been able to have a meeting with the Premier. Whether I was going to discuss it is all academic, er..."

Reporter interrupts: "No it's not, it's not academic."

Nalder: "Yes it is. Well it is because I became aware of it over the last few days. I've tried to, er, establish a meeting with the Premier, I haven't been able to have one at this point. There's a number of things I have to discuss with him. They're things I have to do in confidence with the Premier." (Nalder is really pushing the point of not being able to get a meeting with Barnett. He could be passing the responsibility back to Barnett, or he could be highlighting significant communication issues)

Reporter: Can I ask, Do you think it's appropriate that businessmen, I mean the Premier clearly doesn't and the Deputy Premier doesn't think it's appropriate. Do you think it's appropriate on doing these sorts of polling on Liberal leadership? (Clusters of eyelid flutters throughout)

Nalder: I get concerned, er, over any poll result that get conducted (one sided shoulder shrug. obviously you don't) Er, there's always questions asked when, when polls are conducted (very subtle one sided shoulder shrug. Not 'always'), irrespective of who does them and, er, where they're done, whether it's the journalists that do them, whether its the newspapers.."

Reporter interrupts: "No, no, these are very specific questions about a very unusual poll, done by specific representatives, seemingly for the purpose of ...? leaderships." (Nalder gulps and gasps/exhales indicating stress)

Nalder: "Look I. Look. If. You know. (False starts, not sure how to answer) I can't comment (congruent head shake, eye block, eyelid flutter) "... on what their motives are. You have to ask them that" (congruent head shake, eye block) "I haven't been involved in commissioning it." (congruent shake, eyelid flutter)

Video cuts off

The nonverbal cues displayed by Nalder all add up to help us see the bigger picture about what is really being communicated. If you're paying attention to this important part of communication, observing and starting to understand the meaning behind nonverbal signals, you really gain the upper hand across all interactions, because you gain a better understanding of the interaction. This increases empathy and allows us to better respond to to true feelings of others, as well as helping us in seeking the truth.

If you're interested in learning more about nonverbal communication in terms of professional development, check out our training options and services.

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