#i am not going to give any kind of estimate about the population you would need to construct this in 1-2 centuries

[dawn-of-worlds]

Let us build for ourselves a city

Beneath the claws and cloaks and thirst for blood, beneath the touch of Corobel, beneath their strange homes and stranger thoughts, the Calyptra are human. The curse of humanity; to never feel satisfaction, to always chase some greater goal; that is their birthright as well.

At least in humans, this is mitigated by physical reality. Hunger and thirst will crowd out ennui, the day-to-day struggle for survival dominates questions of higher purpose. Some humans go all their lives without ever giving much thought to that nagging sense of imperfection, too occupied with eking out a living.

But the Calyptra live in an otherwordly paradise. They never go hungry, they need serve no kings, and the few beasts that dare hunt them cannot follow onto the shore. Some become great philosophers, engaged in endless debate about reality and morality. Some seek solace in art, carving blocks of regolith into sculpture, adorning it with shades of red. A few boldly journey inland, starving themselves of blood for days at the time, and return bearing meteoric treasures and strange lunar gems. Mystics and poets and craftsmen all exist among them, as they do among humans.

Most, however, build.

(and they call the thing they built a city, but it has no market-squares, no palaces, no temples, no roads or mills or wells, and in fact its people have no need for cities, and hardly even remember them, and the thing they build is no city at all, but a great stone gate, built for a hateful dark star that spirals inward even now)

Truth-Descends-from-the-Heavens is enormous. The cyclopean city stretches beyond the horizon, its great towers reach a hundred meters into the heavens. A great ziggurat, built far from the shore and slowly sloping up, measures half a mile, and some add to it still. Canals snake between the buildings, providing fresh blood to the city's occupants; many buildings collect blood in their basements and so remove any need to ever head outside. Bridges-turned-tunnels, their cracks sealed with mud, span the bloodways, allowing for easy travel between buildings.

Much of this space is pointless, constructed only because construction was called for. Some buildings are hollow within; others are completely solid. Labyrinthine corridors wind around vast empty rooms, stairs are rough and incomplete, sometimes requiring vast vertical jumps to ascend, designs are unbound by considerations of inhabitant or utility. Nearer to the shoreline, the constructions continue beneath the sea's surface. Blood-filled tunnels connect inland basements to submerged vestibules, megaliths ever-untouched by the sun bear glyphs said to turn away sea monsters.

To most Calyptra, the city is nothing but a form of therapy: an opportunity for endless creation that somehow, somewhat, lessens that terrible wanting feeling. They roam it aimlessly, adding onto the design where their strange standards deem it lacking, painting the floors, carving sigils and images in the walls, pausing only to attend to their needs, to breed, to gather stone from the great quarries beneath.

But some take this plentiful space and turn it towards other ends. A lone astronomer has claimed a single tall tower, drawing vast star charts on its walls and floors, heading out to the roof to study the night sky (trying, as she does so, not to glance too much at the shining world's poles). Others construct ritual chambers, crypts, classrooms, libraries, shrines. In a secluded spot one may find a museum, showcasing bones of sea-beasts and treasures from afield, and even a basin of the strange clear fluid from the lifeless ocean far to the south.

And of course there is community, still. Calyptra are no loners, and desire companionship, and a lone Calyptra wandering the halls will in time come across others and join them. In bands from a handful to a hundred, they travel and work together, splitting and merging as they see fit. What conflict the Calyptra know arises between these groups: more commonly over the proper thing to construct than over tribute or territory.

All of these little wars, these tunnels and chambers and dreams, the cults worshipping their grandfathers' works; they matter not to the intelligence behind it. An anthill cares not for its ants, and likewise the dark star sees only an ever-expanding perimeter, an ever more complex target to hone in on: it is pleased at this.

The moon, who is like a god, might once have hoped to resist the hatestar's arrival at great cost, to turn it away, unleash secret arts upon it, perhaps even destroy it. But the city is a doorway, and an inexorable path points through it: while it stands, it shall one day be reached.

(This is part of my previous action; the creation of the Calpytra. No points are expended)

#world 02457 diegesis #i am not going to give any kind of estimate about the population you would need to construct this in 1-2 centuries #but given that the calyptra have a crazy high upper limit on their population right now #i'm pretty confident it's doable #also obviously there's a lot of calyptra in the sea and shores as well who all have their own coping mechanisms for the human condition #the numbers given for building height assume it scales linearly with inverse gravity; if i am wrong please tell me

[howtofightwrite]

I know you guys aren't the blog for this, but you've demonstrated that you know this stuff, so I'm going to ask and if what I get is pointed in hopefully the right direction, I'll be happy with that. I'm trying to make some fantasy countries, as one does, and I know roughly how big they all are in terms of military / technology power, natural resources, and how livable they are.

What I don't have is uh, any understanding of how to guesstimate the population needed to support their various economies. I don't need exact numbers, I more or less need to know if this many cities and small towns and villages are enough (I am also making rough maps of each kingdom) and roughly what percentages of the population need to be dedicated to each thing like spinning/dyeworking and agriculture and transportation and stuff.

Can you guys help at all? And if not, can you help maybe get me pointed in a direction that might help? ^^;

So, basically, you have four choices.

The first is, legitimately, to just kind of say, you're not overly worried about it, and to fudge out some numbers that look roughly consistent with what you want, and then not worry about the rest. This option is a lot more flexible (and effective) than it first sounds, because you can make vague statements without direct demographic data, and trust the math to work out in the wash. For example, I remember a question awhile back where they wanted an elite core of magic using knights, and a large part of the answer to how large that nation would need to be came down to looking at the number of knights in the organization and holding that against how common they were.

For a more direct example, you can say, “The Empire is supported by a vast agricultural infrastructure in The Western Valleys,” and it's generally unimpeachable unless you start trying presenting hard numbers. (If you defining the exact size of The Western Valleys, then that can give someone enough information to start to realize, “wait, this math doesn't check out.”) If you never specifically define how large that region is, it becomes a kind of Schroedinger's state, it is exactly the size it needs to be. You can even push this further by indicating things like production shifts via percentages. Without context, a percentage is a meaningless number. If grain production is down by 5% this year, the audience doesn't know what that exact number looks like. This also works with non-standard weights and measures, I'm not a fan of this fantasy cliché, but it is an effective way to pave over uncertain numbers, while sounding like the characters are producing hard demographics.

Even in the specific agricultural example above, knowing the space is, won't fully convey how much is being produced. That also depends on how much of the space can be used effectively. “Valleys,” could indicate a few wide, highly fertile, flood planes, or it could refer to a vast network of smaller farms filling a tight network of canyons.

Your second option, and honestly, my recommendation, would be to look for historical analogs. We have somewhat accurate demographic data for human settlements throughout history, (granted, sometimes that is just estimating by the thousands), and that information can be found pretty painlessly by searching around online. The technical term for this field is Archaeological Demography. (This used to be called Demographic Archaeology. You may still find that term in use.)

This is going to run you into a few details that are easy to miss. The geographic size of nations prior to The Treaty of Westphalia (1648), were a lot smaller than what you see today. A legitimate problem with a lot of fantasy authors is “importing,” the concept of a modern nation, into an era when those simply didn't exist. In fact, in a pre-modern setting, it's not unreasonable to have a map comprised almost exclusively of city-states who control some outlying settlements, but aren't really, “nations,” in the way we think of them. Granted, you may also have feudal states that controlled larger swaths of territory, by delegating authority to a hierarchy of nobility. Though feudal states did tend to be far more fragile, and prone to, “breakage,” whenever the sovereign's vassals decided to place their ambitions above their loyalty. Similarly, there were imperial states, though, again, these tended to be a lot more fragile than the term implies.

A third option would be to look at other fantasy settings, and then spitball a number based on their numbers. This does have some serious risks. First, no, don't copy their numbers verbatim, and second when you are looking at their numbers, it's important to consider if they seem plausible. There are a lot of authors who take the first route I suggested. They'll spout off something like a large city having a population of half-a-million people, when that would represent a significant portion of the global population, without realizing that this would (probably) make it the largest city in the world.

In general, it's a good idea to look at what other authors are doing, and file that away for future reference. In this case, it may be worth skimming for demographics, and seeing if someone else had an idea.

This is going to sound like a non-sequitur, but, when you're doing any kind of lit review (or, really, reading anything), it's very important to check the background of the author. “Who wrote this?” Often, simply skimming their biography will be enough to inform what you're looking at. This will then help you to determine what you should, and shouldn't, take seriously, when you're reading. Granted, outside of authors with a background in sociology or history, you're not like to get a lot of millage out of this when you're researching fantasy authors, but is an important research tool, and one that you don't want to forget.

The fourth, and final option, is going to be a lot of work. If you enjoy this, don't let me discourage you, however, in the vast majority of cases, this will be extreme overkill. Start with the agriculture. Specifically food production, with an eye towards how much food can be produced and brought to market. This is going to be the most foundational part of your fictional states, and their access to agricultural resources is what determines how large they can be.

Establishing the caloric productivity of your farmers will be highly variable, based on things like soil fertility and agricultural technologies in use. (This is also where the numbers, in a fantasy setting, can go right out the window. Fantastic technologies, or magical crop manipulation (Agrimages?) can create situations where you cannot work out the math in any reasonable way.) Again, you can use historical analogs to get a feel for where this should be, and can fudge it to a reasonable point where it's not possible to fully debunk the math. There is scholarly lit (particularly in archaeology) regarding real world agricultural production in a wide variety of environments and at different eras in history.

Once you have a meaningful number for your agricultural production, you can start working out the rest of your civilization. You can take caloric production and compare that to how much food your civilization's laborers need to consume to be productive. You can determine how much food is available  for more specialized jobs. You can start to get a feel for how large a standing military force can be maintained. (Hint: if you're looking at pre-modern eras then chances are: Not many.)

If the food production is tight, then you have a recipe for an aggressive and expansionist power, looking to expand their territory. If they're producing more food than they need, it's likely they'll export food in exchange for other goods. High food production can also result in a population boom.

When it comes to dedicated roles, you're going to guesstimate their productivity, to then compare that to how many you'd need to (roughly) satisfy the needs of the rest of the population. Production of trade goods and metal mining can be a little tricky in this case, as there's no (practical) limit on how much the society can produce and export.

So far as it goes, transport is a factor, and that will heavily affect how civilization looks. Easy access to transport allows for larger, more sprawling, nations (with more complicated ruling structures.) In particular, river access can be a major boon for moving large amounts of trade goods (and food) around quickly.

Conversely, rough terrain, where it's difficult to transport goods between settlements, will have a far more decentralized, and scattered governance and production. Even agricultural production would need to be much closer to the settlements that benefited from it. Rough terrain could also, easily, impair state capacity. Making it significantly harder for the nation to deal with bandits or even enforcing the laws. The trade-off is that rough terrain is likely to be associated with mineral wealth, so a nation may be willing to deal with the difficulties associated with territory like this specifically because of regional mining. This could be valuable metals like gold or silver, it could be strategic metals like iron or copper and tin (bronze is a copper/tin alloy), or it could be something more exotic and exclusive to your setting. While it would be somewhat unusual, it's also possible that you'd see stone or marble quarries. Usually, you wouldn't want to have to transport stone over long distances, but it might be the best available option.

Of these four options, the best approach is going to be whatever best fits your needs. Most stories are not going to require, (or benefit from) precise demographics. You don't need to know how many weavers are in the capital city of your nation, unless it's somehow critically important to the plot.

If your story revolves around the detailed management and logistics of running a nation, then, yes this kind of information may be important, and you would need to spend the time artificially reconstructing the fantasy demographics for your entire civilization. At which point the fourth option might be a reasonable expenditure of time, along with a crash course in archaeological demography.

If your story is a more conventional fantasy narrative, then that information becomes far less useful, to the point that fudging the numbers (the first option) becomes entirely viable, so long as you're reasonably consistent. Especially if you don't try to fill in every blank.

On a sliding scale between these points, you should be able to find the approach that best fits the needs of your story. Don't worry about the exact numbers unless it is critically important to understanding the plot. Though, obviously, the more politically or economically focused your story is, the more important these numbers become.

-Starke

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#Starke answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #worldbuilding

[dwellordream]

“...Where the show had sensibly added yurts and merely forgot to have any way to move them, Martin has the Dothraki live in “palaces of woven grass” (AGoT, 83) which I assume the show did not replicate because the moment someone described doing that everyone realized what a bad idea it was and moved on to something more sensible like a yurt covered in leather. Grass and reeds, of course, can be woven. However, as anyone who has done so will tell you, the idea of trying to weave what is essentially a grass basket the size of a tent in a single day is not an enviable – or remotely possible – task.

Trying to move such a giant grass basket without it coming apart or developing tears and gaps is hardly better. And at the end, a woven-grass structure wouldn’t even really be particularly good at controlling temperature, which is its entire purpose! It is rather ironic, given that unlike the show’s Dothraki, Martin’s Dothraki do seem to use at least some carts, because Viserys is forced to ride in one (AGoT, 323) and so could bring yurts with them. They just don’t.

More to the point, it is very clear that Martin imagines the Dothraki subsistence system to consist almost entirely of horses. The Dothraki ride horses, they eat horses, they drink fermented mare’s milk. The Dothraki – as in the show – are presented as eating almost entirely horsemeat. They eat horsemeat at the wedding (AGoT, 84), and Daenerys’ attendants are surprised that she asks for any kind of meat other than horse (AGoT, 129), although Daenerys herself seems to have access to a more agrarian diet (AGoT, 198) and other characters observe that the Dothraki prefer horsemeat to anything else (AGoT, 272). There is no mention of herds of anything except people and horses moving with the khalasaar.

There is also no sense that the Dothraki are hunting big game like one would in the Great Plains; Drogo kills a hrakkar – a sort of lion, apparently – as a display of bravery (AGoT, 495) but there is nothing that would suggest the kind of bison-based subsistence system (at the very least, if that was the system, Daenerys would be well aware of it, because the camp would be awash in bison-products). I found no references to larger game and the Wiki only offers, “packs of wild dogs, herds of free-ranging horses, and rare hrakkar” which is, needless to say, not enough to make up for the absence of large herds of bison, especially for trying to feed Drogo’s camp of perhaps a hundred thousand people (or more!).

They clearly do not herd sheep. This becomes painfully obvious with the raid on the Lhazareen village. The Dothraki – Khal Ogo’s men – in raiding a sedentary pastoralist settlement, kill all of the sheep and leave them to rot. Dany sees them “thousands of them, black with flies, arrow shafts bristling from each carcass” and only knows that this isn’t Drogo’s work because he would have killed the shepherds first (AGoT, 555). And we are told that the people there “the Dothraki called them haesh rakhi, the Lamb Men….Khal Drogo said they belong south of the river bend. The grass of the Dothraki sea was not meant for sheep” (AGoT, 556).

We are told that the Dothraki have “vast herds” but this can only mean herds of horses, given that they apparently take offense at any other animal being grazed on the Dothraki and look down at shepherds in general (AGoT, 83). To be clear, for a nomadic people moving over vast grassland to spurn the opportunity to capture vast herds of sheep would be extraordinarily stupid. At the very least, thousands of sheep are valuable trade goods that can literally walk themselves to the point of sale (we’ll get to this idea that the Dothraki also don’t understand commerce a little later, but it is also intense rubbish; horse nomads in both the New World and the Old understood trade networks quite well and utilized them adroitly). But more broadly, as I hope we’ve laid out, sheep are extremely valuable for subsistence in Steppe terrain.

But Martin does not even do horse-string logistics right. While Daenerys eats cheese (AGoT, 198), we never hear of the Dothraki doing so. The Dothraki do have an equivalent to qumis, but no qulut, no yogurt. Even the frankly badass bit about drinking the horse’s blood as a source of nourishment does not appear. The horses themselves are also wrong. First, Daenerys and Drogo each have one horse they use, seemingly to the exclusion of all others. If you have been reading this long, you know that is nonsense: they ought to both (and Jorah too, if he intends to keep up) be shifting between multiple horses to avoid riding any of them into the ground. Moreover, Martin has imported a European custom about horses – that men ride stallions and women ride mares – into a context where it makes no sense. Drogo’s horse is clearly noted as a red stallion (AGoT, 88) while Daenerys’ horse is a silver filly (AGoT, 87). But of course the logistics of Steppe raiding revolves around mares; in trying to give Drogo the ultimate manly-man horse, he has actually given him the equivalent of a broken down beater – a horse only able to fulfill a slim parts of its role.

Finally, the group size here is wildly off. For comparison, Timothy May estimates that, in 1206, when Temujin he took the name Chinggis Khan and thus became the Great Khan, ruling the entire eastern half of the Eurasian Steppe, that the Mongol army “probably numbered less than a hundred thousand men” (May, The Mongols, (2019), 43), though by that point his army included not merely Mongols, but other ethnically distinct groups of steppe nomads, Merkits, Naimans, Keraites, Uyghurs and the Tatars (the last of which Chinggis had essentially exterminated – next time, we’ll get to the nonsense of the Dothraki being a single ethnic group).

That is, to be clear, compared to the armies of sedentary empires of similar size (which is to say, huge) a fairly small number! We’re going to come back to this next week, but the strength of Steppe nomads was never in numbers. Pastoralism is a low density subsistence strategy, so the steppe nomads were almost always outnumbered by their sedentary opponents (Chinggis himself overcomes this problem by folding sedentary armies into his own, giving him agrarian numbers, backed by the fearsome fighting skills of his steppe nomads).

Khal Drogo’s khalasaar, which moves as a single unit, supposedly has 40,000 riders (AGoT, 325-6); Drogo is perhaps the strongest Khal, but still only one of many. With 40,000 riders, we have to imagine an entire khalasaar of at least 120,000 Dothraki (plus all the slaves they seem to have – put a pin in that for later; also that number is a low-ball because violent mortality is clearly very high among the Dothraki, which would increase the proportion of women and children) and probably something like 300,000 horses. At least. Of course no grassland could support those numbers without herds of sheep or other cattle. As noted above, Isenberg’s figures suggest much lower density in the absence of herding – just under 70,000 nomadic Native Americans on the Great Plains in 1780 (and less than 40,000 in 1877), including women and children! But more to the point, no assemblage of animals and people that large could stay together for any length of time without depleting the grass stocks.

Even if we ignore that problem and even if we assume that the Dothraki have Mongol-style pastoral logistics to enable higher population density on the Dothraki Sea, my sense is that the numbers still don’t work. Even before Drogo dies, we meet quite a few other independent Khals with their on khalasaars – Moro, Jommo, Ogo, Zekko and Motho at least and it is implied that there are more. Drogo’s numbers suggests he should be roughly at the stage Chinggis Khan was in 1201 or so – with Chinggis controlling roughly half of the Mongolian Steppe, and his old friend and rival Jamukha the other half. But Khal Drogo has evidently at least a half-dozen rivals, probably more. It is hard to say with any certainty, but the numbers generally seem too high. Having that entire group concentrated, moving together for at least nine months (long enough for Daenerys to become pregnant and give birth) would be simply impossible inside of a grazing-based subsistence system, sheep or no sheep.

In short, no part of this subsistence system works, either from a North American or a Eurasian perspective. This isn’t actually much of a surprise. Martin has been pretty clear that he doesn’t like the kind of history we’re doing here. As he states: I am not looking for academic tomes about changing patterns of land use, but anecdotal history rich in details of battles, betrayals, love affairs, murders, and similar juicy stuff.

That’s an odd position for an author who critiques other authors for being insufficiently clear about their characters’ tax policy (what does he think they are taxing, other than agricultural land use?). Now, I won’t begrudge anyone their pleasure reading, whatever it may be. But what I hope the proceeding analysis has already made clear is that it simply isn’t possible to say any fictional culture is ‘an amalgam’ of a historical culture if you haven’t even bothered to understand how that culture functions. And it should also be very clear at this point that George R. R. Martin does not have a firm grasp on how any of these cultures function.”

- Bret Devereaux, “That Dothraki Horde, Part II: Subsistence on the Hoof.”

#the dothraki #grrm critical #bret devereaux #history

[talkalilmore]

We Should Just Stop Buying Lingerie Brands That Do Not Make Us Feel Good About Ourselves *coughs*( Victoria's Secret)

So I am just gonna go ahead and say this. Victoria's Secret is a garbage can of fat phobia, transphobia, and oppression of women wrapped in pink frills. How long are we going to continue to walk into the doors of a corporation whose intention are not to make women feel "empowered" and "sexy" but instead give the world (men) what they want to see.

So let's talk abut Ed Razek. He was a Chief Officer of L Brands. (Smart to stop in 2019) He states, "So it’s like, why don’t you do 50? Why don’t you do 60? Why don’t you do 24?(talking about size range) It’s like, why doesn’t your show do this? Shouldn’t you have transsexuals in the show? No. No, I don’t think we should. Well, why not? Because the show is a fantasy. It’s a 42-minute entertainment special. That’s what it is. It is the only one of its kind in the world, and any other fashion brand in the world would take it in a minute, including the competitors that are carping at us. And they carp at us because we’re the leader." *DID HE JUST SAY TRANS..........*** YOU KNOW WHAT..... LET'S MOVE ON..

This man is basically implying that their size range is enough in stores. As well as stating that , larger size, midsize, plus size, and trans models do not fit the image of fantasy.... Ok, but fantasy for whom? LET'S GET INTO IT

So the CDC Behavior Risk Factor Surveillance System ,from a previous population survey, estimated that 1.4 million adults in the USA identify as transgender. NOTE: The survey did not include individuals who identify as non binary, gender fluid, etc. That's a large sized population of people who may want to buy lingerie. THATS LIKE THE POPULATION OF SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA OR DALLAS, TEXAS!!!!! I feel there is safe to say there is not one city or town where people don't want/buy lingerie. (CHECK ME IF I AM WRONG) SOMEBODY is going to want lingerie. Specifically lingerie that is inclusive to their identity. JUST SAYING! That can't be too hard to understand, right ??? People other than cis- women want to feel beautiful and sexy. (NOT THAT THEY CARED ABOUT WHAT WOMEN IN GENERAL WANTED FROM THE JUMP.)

Now lets talk about body size. THE AVERAGE WAIST SIZE OF A WOMEN ABOVE THE AGE OF TWENTY IN THE USA IS ABOUT 38.7 INCHES. That is roughly a size 18-20. So why aren't those sizes more represented in advertisement and fashions shows.....??? CLOTHING ATLEAST??????? THE BARE MINIMUM. Victoria's Secret is basically saying that if your are not below this small single size ( Probably around 4) . You cannot be sexy or beautiful. You should also feel ridiculous for asking to be included.................... even though the NATIONAL AVERAGE IS 4 TO 5 TIMES THAT SMALL SINGLE SIZE........ MAKE IT MAKE SENSEEEEE.

I need to end this post cause it's making me upset. In conclusion, why are we supporting this trash ass brand. I think we can do better. I can list some more inclusive brands. Just let me know if guys want some more information.

I"M OUT OF HEREEEE!!!

#transgender #trans pride #trans women #trans women of color #women #thick women #curvy women #plus size #lingerie #feminine #feminism is for everyone #inclusive feminism #lgbtqia #lgbtqplus #pink #all body types #sexy #im offended #im out of here #trans #nonbinary #gender identity #genderqueer #genderfluid #genderflexible #fat women #transphobes

[rainbowsky]

More on the Fan Fic issue

I have a few more asks about the issue raised the other day, some of which are long and go into detail on the 'wars' that have been happening on Twitter and AO3.

Sorry for grouping these but I wanted to put it all under a cut because these are long, and also in case people don't want to dig into these issues (which would be understandable).

Anonymous 1 asked:

"I am very strongly of the opinion that the BJYX term is still a fandom umbrella term" I agree. Mainly because Bjyx is the most popular. Many antis always say bjyx, and have no idea the others. So sometimes it's easier just to say bjyx instead of explaining all three. I myself more like "who cares as long as they happy." So I enjoy Yizhan in all contexts. Many bxgs I know also like that, mostly ibxgs. I think deep down all bxgs (no matter which position they prefer) just want Yizhan to be happy

Not sure we can be so certain about that last part, Anon (I think for a lot of people GG and DD are just characters in a smutty story they have in their heads), but I agree about the term being popular regardless of the type of fans people are.

From what I can see the BJYX term seems to be used 80-90% umbrella, 10-20% dynamic in both international and c-social media (for every 10 times you see the term used, only one or two of those usages - probably less - are referring to a dynamic). This is my totally unscientific estimation, but I think even 10-20% dynamic is being generous. The number of people who are fixated on a sexual dynamic aren't nearly as large as they'd like to believe.

Anonymous 2 asked:

about the promptfests - i’ve been on twitter since early 2020 and what i’ve noticed is that this influx bjyx-only promptfests started gaining speed once lots of rational voices started leaving the fandom recently either because a) new interests have caught their attention or b) the toxicity of the popular bxg circles on twitter have become too much to handle.

gdgdbaby was usually the organizer of dynamic-inclusive events, and she’s received lots, and lots, and lots of backlash by bxg, sometimes even by accounts with thousands followers, for using bjyx as a catch-all term. and as her interest in yizhan has since waned—hopefully for reasons unrelated to fandom toxicity—many of the people who were attracted to the welcoming environment she created distanced themselves as well.

zsww/lsfy fans have become an outnumbered circle who try their best to create exclusive events to avoid the “is bjyx a catch-all term” discourse, but never seem to gain as much traction as gdgdbaby (who has a sizeable following) or those who host bjyx-only events (who also have sizeable followings).

meanwhile the dynamic war has only become more and more hostile and bjyx is clearly the more populated group… ao3 is simply a battlegrounds, if i may dramatize the situation a little for the sake of humor, and the promptfests are a reaction to this irritating t/b discourse that has made bxg twitter completely inhospitable for me…and lots of other fans too.

(i’ve also noticed a huge reinforcement as of recently where ppl will call gg laopo, a milf, an omega, etc even outside of rpf (i.e. posting pictures of him at events and saying he looks pregnant or he’s going into heat) and it’s just… uncomfortable.)

(also please note i have a biased account of all of this drama bc many of my friends were harassed over it, and anyone who disagrees with my take may feel free to interject.)

I took the liberty of adding paragraph breaks because they are pretty important for some readers, particularly ND readers like me.

It's sad to hear how fucked up everything has become, but I'm not even remotely surprised. Toxicity leads to toxicity, and the whole idea of dividing up a RP fandom by sex position was misguided from the outset - no matter why it was done or how good the intentions might have been.

And yes, like I said, these people aren't just framing things this way for fan fic. This is how they talk about IRL GGDD.

I had written a lengthy essay here about homophobia in the fandom but deleted it all. Perhaps I'll post it separately at some later point. Suffice it to say that this stuff creates a climate that's often hostile for queer people. So much of it is deeply homophobic, whether people are aware of it or not.

It's really sad to hear about gdgdbaby being mistreated in any way. Anyone who steps up and sticks their neck out to help organize and coordinate activities that benefit a broader group of people should be celebrated and supported, not run out of town by an angry mob.

I've read some of her stories and even have one or two on my rec list. And here's someone who is not only writing good works, but also supporting others to write more good works. Such a shame.

Anonymous 3 asked:

Hello Mr. RBS! I think I can chime in a bit about the fanfic topic as I’ve watched this all unravel on twitter (where a majority of authors/readers are). I apologize if this gets long but it’s been something that’s also been on my mind.

I want to preface this by saying that I’m not a fan of the distinctions of dynamics as, like you said, the supposed line between real life and fanfic is long gone, so I’m not trying to be biased against one group over another.

Short answer to the question of, “is this retaliation?” : I do believe it is. (From here onwards I’ll be using bjyx as the dynamic term just for the ease of simplicity.) To understand why, I’ll have to explain with a bit of background info. On twitter, I’d say that there’s a quite large divide between bjyx and zsww/lsfy. That itself isn’t really a problem because people are free to like what they like and associate with whoever.

However there is a big problem where bjyx people are not just bjyx but also anti-zsww/lsfy. To the point where I’ve seen people say that they feel physically ill when they accidentally read zsww. I don’t think this type of behavior should exist in any dynamic bc in the end GGDD are real people with a real relationship behind this content and it’s just a gross fetishization at that point.

With all this happening, zsww/lsfy people have gotten more outspoken on how GG is often portrayed in those types of scenarios, mainly the over-feminization of him, bc it’s not just done in the context of fanfic but regular discussion of GGDD at this point. This tension between the dynamics kind of boiled over when the pregnant xz fest was announced, as you can take a guess at how that went over with zsww/lsfy people. lol.

But around that same time, another zsww/lsfy event was announced (I’m not sure if it’s the one anon was talking about) but the creator of the event suddenly got a ton of backlash for excluding bjyx, with the reasoning that bjyx is technically a part of lsfy. But the event was done to highlight zsww/lsfy (as all specific events are) bc the community and content for these dynamics are much less than bjyx.

Which is how we come back to the starting point of, is all this recent bjyx stuff retaliatory. I believe so bc the events (preg fest, dark event) are very specific prompts that target exactly what zsww/lsfy people have been outspoken against.

As to the point anon made about trying to drown out the tags, keep in mind that zsww/lsfy content is very minimal compared to bjyx and has only just recently started to gain more traction. I think most people would love to just peacefully exist in their own circles but I don’t see this problem between dynamics disappearing anytime soon.

Like I said with the above Anon, I've added paragraph breaks for ND readers.

What a mess.

I have absolutely nothing useful to say here about the fandom on AO3 and how it's managed by community members, but I do think it's unfortunate that people choose to be war-like rather than make space for diverse voices, and I think it's a real shame that some people have been essentially run out of the fandom because of this garbage.

Thanks for giving some context for how/why the major shift in tone of fan fic lately. I had no idea any of this was going on.

I urge people to work hard to give space for all voices and perspectives, and not just the ones they favor. I'd also urge people to reflect on how their thoughts, behavior and actions in the fandom might affect queer people in the fandom.

As always, we have no control over what other people do, say or think. All we have any control over is how we respond to what other people do, say or think. Hopefully we'll chose the path of peace and try to avoid fan wars or fights that only ruin the experience for everyone.

I guess one thing I'd ask any of the Anons who have written me about this issue - or anyone who has thoughts about it - is, what can we as readers/fans who care about diversity of voices and perspectives do to support that here and on AO3, without getting involved in any kind of war?

#fan fiction #fandom reflections #top bottom #ask

[spartanxhunterx]

So late the party has left.

Ok, I've had this submission from @starmage2 for ever and just got around to it now.

As a heads up I've changed the 'Alien invasion ' to Gorilla Grodd invasion instead. Same general thing though.

-

Paris was not a place the flash visited often or even with purpose. A city of calm and peace that was unaffected by the world's crazies, maniacs and supervillians. There has never been a reason to be in Paris, for anyone from the league. Aside from maybe taking a superspeed shortcut or flying well above the city to make time to ones real destination.

But now Flash, or Barry Allen to those close to him, feared that the millennia long peace was going to be broken. News had spread that Gorilla Grodd, One of Flash's Rivals, had snuck his way to Paris, France, with plans to use De-evolution devices to regress the human population for his own uses.

That was Not something the justice league was going to ignore, it would be like ignoring an upstart villain or a call for aid. Such things were not taken lightly.

he had long since past Paris' border and was making his way to the Eiffel tower, Where the rest of the Justice league members that were joining him would be meeting up with him. It was considered the most neutral and hidden spot in Paris after dark.

Still, he indulged himself by taking the long scenic route, confident that he would beat everyone there. Except for maybe superman but who cares about that?

So it was a huge surprise, when passing the Louvre, that a large portal opened in front of him and before he could redirect himself he was already through to the other side, his feet skid against the oiled floor as he tumbled into a pre-placed net. The trap triggered and the next thing he knew he was tied up and dangling a foot off the floor.

Ignoring the oncoming footsteps he tried twisting his limbs, if he could move just the slightest amount he could friction burn the ropes around him to free him. It wasn't until he felt something pointy touch his chest and a hand guide his chin that he looked at the perpetrators. There were three, one female, two males.

one guy looked like he was dressed up as a monkey with a Bo Staff, the girl like a bee and the other guy... Well he wasn't sure up he was going to guess a horse due to the horseshoe they had.

"Watch it speedy." The girl talked, a hint of smug laced in her voice. "Try to vibrate your way out of that and I'll stick you to the spot."

" do you have any idea who I am? What kind of trouble you'll be in for doing this? " Cause he knew the rest of the team would be suspicious if he wasn't at least the second person there, these three were playing a dangerous game and he wasn't in the mood to deal with more wannabe villains.

"The Flash," the horse? Started , gesturing to his tied up self. "Fastest man alive, scarlet speedster, defender of Central City. And if my suspicions are correct, Barry Allen. "

flash sputtered slightly, voice cracking with his next words. "W-What, No!"

" Ha! Instant denial! " The monkey exclaimed as he pointed to him before clapping the other guy on the shoulder. " You got it right on the head Pegasus."

OK, Pegasus, one name down. "So, you the ring leader here?" He turned to him and Barry realised he couldn't make out his expression due to his dark glasses, who wears sunglasses at night?

"No. I'm more of the... Tactical analysis type. Information provider and long term planner." He pointed to the other two. " My cohorts here are Abeille and roi singe. "

 "The more important thing here, is why is the justice league here in Paris when you've been banned from entering."

 " What! When did this happen!? "

 "Six years ago."

Flash stared dumbfounded at the three, all attempts to escape forgotten. The JL was banned from Paris? And had been for six years? "Why?"

" Oh please. " Abeille scoffed as she picked up her discarded coffee drink, taking a slow sip to force tension to grow. "Don't act like you don't know why, you're fully aware and if not?... Ask Green lantern."

Roi singe's Bo Staff let out a chime and he slid open the panel to reveal the communicator. "Anything on your end yet?" The voice on the other end was feminine, the three Parisian heroes easily recognized Ladybugs voice.

" Yeah actually, managed to bag the Flash, trap worked like a Charm. "

"The Flash? Interesting. See what he knows, we've got reports of odd noises coming from an old abandoned warehouse. Me, Viper And Ry are gonna check it out, Chats on the way to you and so are some local Officers, let them deal with the Flash. "

"So, what are you doing here Speedy wonder?" Pegasus smacked Roi on the chest before turning his critical gaze to the tied up hero.

"What he means is, why are you hear and who else should we expect, I doubt you came to Paris for a holiday. You shouldn't have been caught by this trap, you react too fast, you were occupied with something."

" The JL had received reports that Grodd, Gorilla Grodd, has made his way to Paris. Nothing good had ever come from him being anywhere near humans so we sent a team to deal with it before too much damage can arise. "

The three of them looked at each other skeptically, since when did the JL care about collateral damage?

"Ok, meet up point, now."

" You think I'm gonna tell that to a bunch of upstart villains? "

There was a moment of silence before the three of them burst out laughing, Roi had to prop himself up by his staff while Abeille almost doubled over. When she was done she splashed the remains of her, now cold, coffee over the heroes face.

"Villains? Really?" She sneared pulling the heroes face closer to hers. "We are the heroes of Paris, Defenders of France, part of the Miracle team. If you ever get the chance, ask Diana what a Miraculous is... And she will know, any statement to the contradictory is a lie."

"Now, meet up location?"

" Eiffel tower. "

" Who will be there? "

"Batman, Superman, Wonder woman, Green lantern And Robin."

"Good. Officer Cuff him and give him a cell." Unknown to The Flash several officers had arrived, they quickly slapped on some anti-meta handcuffs before removing him from the net , shoving the 'hero ' into the police car before driving away.

"Chat's on his way to the tower, let's give him some back up."

-

It was twenty minutes later, the use of two vemons, one uproar and the combined might of Pegasus, Abeille, Roi singe, Chat Noir and Carapace to subdue the heroes who had been waiting for the Flash.

Not that the flight was difficult, not while Green lanterns ring was on the Fritz and couldn't form a single thing, Superman was Frozen in place, Along with Robin, Batman was being held in a restraint by Carapace and Diana had been given a fright by being teleported way above them for a few moments before she and Green lantern were tied up in Abeille's Wire.

it was a good thing the team was well within their mid twenties, had they been teens their miraculous would have run out by now. Instead they could cast their powers as much as they wished while only gaining some exhaustion if they went too far. Without the fear of de-transforming.

"Well... That was easy." Roi Singe leaned against the frozen Form of Robin, not bothered by the fact that the violent vigilant was frozen mid-strike.

"I don't think..." Carapace grunted as he tightened his grip to Batmans arms , keeping a hold above his elbows so he could keep the man's arms behind his back. "Getting the drop on unsuspecting people AND freezing their power player," his head jutted to superman, where Chat Noir was happily sitting on his shoulders as he played with his tool. "Can be considered a fight, more like a slaughter really. "

"I agree." Abeille nodded as she tugged her two captives closer to her, without missing a beat she sat on the Amazonian's back before propping her feet up on Green lanterns head. "So, greenie, recognise us?"

"Should I?" He tried to move his head from under the bee hero's foot but was quickly met with the heel of said foot impacting the back of his head. "Hey, what was that for!?"

" You really don't recognise me Hal Jordan? " Chat Noir growled out as he leaped off supermans shoulders before lifting the other others face with his baton.

Said hero stiffened at his name and the Cat Hero took it as his cue to continue. "The justice League receive, over a period of three years, a large amount of calls for aid from France, Paris specifically."

Both Batman and Wonder woman ceased their resistance as they heard this, why was this the first time they were hearing it?

"From two, young, barely teen, kids. Who had far too much responsibility thrusted onto them, who had to fight a maniac who mind controlled and powered up people who were experiencing negative emotion. "

"He targeted kids... A lot."

" What? " Despite their age and experience many of those present flinched at the harshness in Batmans voice, Pegasus turned to him, emotion hidden behind his darkened glasses.

"The butterfly Miraculous of Transmission is able to find people who experience strong emotion, be they negative or positive and empower them based on the current circumstances, like say... "

He paused as he tried to find a viable scenario to use.

"Ok, if you say someone falling from a tall tower and you really wanted to save them, a butterfly weilder could empower you and give you flight, either by giving you wings or... Making you like him." He pointed to superman.

"Hawkmoth, however, would wait until you had negative emotions, being dumped, bullied, fired so on and so forth normally caused these things and he would make it possible to get revenge, with the exception being that they HAD to get Ladybug And Chat Noirs miraculous to pay off the 'debt' they were in. "

"They never remembered the things they did, fortunately, can't say the same for those who died and came back to life though."

Those present Blinked, Batmans mouth opened and closed for a moment before his steely gaze landed on Hal.

"Paris once Flooded, an estimated 87% of Paris drowned that day... The other 13% wasn't purely kids."

"Hal."

" I didn't know ok! " Hal was recoiling from the glare that Batman was sending his way. "I thought it was a prank, ok! I didn't think it was real, how can you take two kids who dress up as a Ladybug And a Cat seriously?"

"You should have investigated, met up with them and assessed the situation First, not assumed."

" I know. " Hal's head hit the floor beneath him with a sigh. The Paris hero's looked at him like he was worth less then the dirt under their boots.

"If you help us tonight, we'll help you afterwards." The looks returned to Batman where after a moment a few of them scoffed.

"Hawkmoth's in jail dude." Carapace shook the vigilante's arms. "Has been for... Four years now, we've already reclaimed the lost Miraculi and the book, now we just deal with petty crime and... Well, your mess, it seems."

"Stick to punching Gotham's nutbags, we'll deal with Paris." No one objected to Chat's words, though Batman defiantly seemed to slump at them.

The cat hero shook his head at the older hero before his baton rang, his flipped it open and a moment afterwards Ladybugs voice came through, the Paris hero's were able to pick up on the urgency in her voice.

"Chat, I need you, Roi, Bee, Pegasus and Rena here now."

" on it, " He looked up as he closed his baton. "You heard her, let's go, Pegasus, get Rena, Carapace, keep an eye on these lot."

" got it dude. " He let go of Batmans arms as Abeille released both wonder woman and Green lantern from their bindings. Simultaneously both superman and Robin were released from the effects of venom as it was released. The other Paris heroes leapt away.

"So... Carapace right?" Diana extended her hand out to the turtle hero, who had leant against the railings with his arms crossed.

"I know who you are, and Tikki is not happy with you right now." She flinched at that. "For twelve years you ignored us, four years after we beat Hawkmoth do you finally show up and it's to deal with one of your own. I think I speak for all of Paris when I say, We don't want you here. "

"Since when do you have the authority to do that?" Both Robin and Carapace had a small stare off before Carapace rolled his eyes .

"Since France voted to ban all Non-miraculous heroes, which includes the justice League. You didn't care before, why care now?"

" is there anything that can be done? "

Carapace shook his head at superman. "You are far too late on that dude, there's being late to a party then there's turning up after the hosts have cleaned up. "

 "You guys turned up for the party days after it was over, so save some face, wait for them to come back, get the Flash then leave. "

"The Flash is here?"

" Dudes spending his time in a cell tonight. "

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #ml x dc #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Carapace #rena rouge #Viperion #ryuko #Pegasus #roi singe #Batman #Robin #wonder woman #Superman #The Flash #Green Lantern #Justice league salt #gorilla grodd

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The concept of surrender

“Are you sure this translator is functioning?”  Alfred asked as he turned to the technician beside him for the third time during the discussion. Before the technician could reply the alien delegates across the table replied.  “We can understand you just fine human, do not insult our intelligence again!” To emphasize their point they brought their hand down against the table with a loud THUD. The surrounding aliens beside the agitated delegate all nodded and muttered their support.  Alfred held up his hands. “Oh, no, no, no. I was not suggesting anything of the sort.” He waved his hands side to side as if to swipe the idea from the very air. “I was merely wishing to confirm that it was working because you seemed rather confused at the terms I offered you.”  “We would never allow our people to become your slaves! We would rather die fighting your tyranny while standing on our own three feet!” The same agitator from before spoke again and was greeted with even more cheers.  Alfred took the glasses from his brow and rubbed his eyes sighing loudly. “See, this is where I think the confusion is setting in.” He calmly placed them back and adjusted them for a clear view. “No were in the terms we offered you does it even mention slavery. I do not understand where you are getting this sentiment.”  The other delegates grumbled and once again it was the agitator who spoke launching into another speech about loyalty to his peoples beliefs. Alfred wasn’t sure if they were the designated representative or if it was because the other delegates didn’t feel like speaking. In truth Alfred knew very little of the Loski people other than that they attempted to invade a human colony world one month earlier believing humanity to be a primitive people only to have the entire might of the Solar Fleet jump in over the colony the next day and begin the counter attack. Now humanity was at the Loski homeworld and the government back on Earth had no desire to launch a final invasion. The fact that this counter attack had come this far was merely a result of continued raids by the Loski nation against human colonies for the last year or so and humanity had had enough. After speaking with several commanders who had fought the Loski forces in space and planetside Alfred had come to the conclusion that they were about as dangerous as shell crab.  So he had been tasked by the Earth’s government to negotiate with the Loski nation a surrender and bring the war to a peaceful conclusion. But after three days of talks a startling fact had begun forming in Alfred’s mind.  He calmly motioned for a human soldier standing by the edges of the room to come over. “Would you be so kind to see if you could find a whiteboard or portable hologram screen? I feel like I’ll need to draw this out for them.” The soldier smirked and departed the room.   “Am I dulling you human?” Alfred turned back around to see the Loski delegate, Hamon he thought they called themselves when they first were introduced. “In all honesty, yes.” Alfred remarked with a bit more snark than he had intended.  This appeared to startle some of the Loski delegates at the directness of the response and anger some others, but at this point Alfred was reaching the end of his rope with the Earth government wanting results and the militarists wanting to launch a full invasion. He resolved himself to save these idiots by any means, and if it meant being harshly honest with them then the truth bombs would start raining down.  “These last three days we’ve repeated the same dance over and over. I present the terms of your surrender, you take it as an insult and interpret it as meaning that you’ll be sold into slavery, you make a long winded speech that uses so many of the same words over and over my linguistics teacher would have strangled you by now, and then we call it a day and start all over again tomorrow.” Hamon began to bristle at the remark. “You dare insult the Loski people-”. It was Alfred’s turn to interrupt and held up a hand. “The fact you have not yet realized that the Loski people are a mere annoyance to humanity shows how detached you are from the current situation so I am going to have drawn a diagram for you to understand.”  The door to the conference room opened and the soldier from before rolled in a large white board on wheels. Alfred stood up, took a marker, and began drawing several circles in clusters. “This,” Alfred began as he marked three circles, “is Loski territory; and this,” he marked several dozen circles, “is humanities territory.”  “Ever since you attacked our colony, your territory has been reduced to this.” He drew and “X” through two of the Loski circles. “You now only have your homeworld left to you, while we still have dozens-” he made sure to wave his hands around the human circles to get the point across, “of planets to draw forces from.” Hamon scoffed. “You can not fool us human. Your territory is nothing so large.” The level of denial Alfred was up against was making him almost want to rip his ears off to save him from such stupidity. “Have you missed the massed armada the you flew past to board this ship? Or the legions of soldiers that stormed your two worlds?” “We will drive them back in good time.” Alfred calmly put down the marker and sat back down. “No, you will not.” “Is that a threat human?” “No, that is a promise.” He calmly looked every Loski delegate in the eye to show how serious he was. “If I walk out that door today and say that there is no peace deal then this is what’s going to happen.”  He held up one finger. “First, you all will be taken into custody while the fleet begins orbital strikes on your planet.” He held up a second finger. “Second, a full ground invasion will be launched filled with soldiers that are tired of this farce of a war and want to go home.” Her held up a third and final finger. “After we have wiped out your government we will take whatever we want and then leave your war torn planet to its own devices which if I’m estimating correctly will not be enough to sustain your current population  resulting in mass starvation and disease which may very well wipe you from the face of the galaxy.”  The Loski delegates sat in silence. The smirks and grins they were sporting just a moment ago now gone from their faces as the depth of their current situation sunk in. Alfred could see that the majority of them now realized they couldn’t win, but Hamon was still undeterred.  “All scary words human, but you’re people would never allow such barbarity to occur; no matter how primitive you are we know you have a conscious.” “One that could be easily overridden by a single video of a crying little girl holding a stuffed toy in the burnt out ruins of her home. A home that your people set ablaze.” Alfred retorted. “With a single video, my people could put their common sense aside.”  The dead look of Alfred’s face must have finally broken through Hamon’s self disillusion. He sank back into his chair and looked at the other delegates, seeing that their minds were already made up.  “We cannot.” Hamon began, the words stuck in his mouth like they were glue. “I care for my people, but I can not stop fighting if the alternative means servitude.”  “Once again, that is not what surrender means.” Alfred felt like he had made a breakthrough so tried to contain his continued frustration at the misinterpretation. “What surrender means is that we stop fighting. You sign an agreement with us saying you will never attack human space again, that you will pay for damages dealt to human property, and that you will respect our borders. In exchange, we will begin withdrawing our forces not only from above your homeworld but also on the two worlds we captured from you and will return them to your governance. Additionally, any captured people be they prisoners of war or captives along with any taken property will be returned.”  The Loski delegates mouths opened and closed several times. To Alfred they looked like catfish staring at a delicious worm before them. “Why would you be willing to give us back our worlds?” one of them asked him. “We have no interest in them other than to ensure that they are no longer hostile bases that are used to attack our people.”  They spoke in hushed whispers among themselves for several minutes before Hamon finally spoke. “This is most unusual. Many species we have encountered either wipe out their enemies or are wiped out in turn. Never have we met a species that is willing to lay down arms and coexist.”  It was Alfred’s turn to grin. “Guess we weren’t the primitive ones after all.”  Hamon looked like he was about to say something before he bit it back.  “Very well. We shall accept your terms and end this conflict.”   Alfred smiled. “Wise choice.”  

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

[psychemoss]

Hi, I’m very sorry to keep bothering you, I think I’ve asked like 3 different questions because I have been doing research about aspd and npd and you seem to know a lot so I keep asking you. I have one more question: how many people do you in the general population has any kind of personality disorder? Sorry if I am bugging you.

There’s no issue! Feel free to send asks anytime! 

Estimates of amounts of people with personality disorders vary greatly, often landing within the range of 10-15%. In truth, we don’t know. A lot of estimates are based off of misdiagnoses in prisons and armchair diagnoses of politicians and celebrities, especially in the case of ASPD and NPD. 

Martha Stout estimated in her book “The Sociopath Next Door” that 1 in every 25 people was a sociopath, however, this is flawed as it was 1. an estimate and 2. based off of her definition of sociopathy as ‘any person entirely lacking a conscience’, hence making the estimate potentially highly skewed. Robert Hare, on the other hand, estimated one percent of the population had ASPD, and that 20-25% of prisoners were fitting his standard of psychopathy. However, since then the number of individuals diagnosed with ASPD in prisons has skyrocketed to be anywhere within 70-90% due to misdiagnosis and stigma in the medical field, this once again throws off estimates, since we don’t know how many prisoners actually hit criteria. My best trust for numbers of the prevalence of specifically ASPD are the numbers from a census-type survey in the UK, which found ASPD at a prevalence of 0.6%, though per usual we have to question how many people were either misdiagnosed or simply not informed about the disorder. 

The numbers for other disorders aren’t any more clear, I’m afraid. NPD, for example, was reported by one source to have an estimated prevalence of 5%. According to the “Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders”, between 0.5 and 1 percent of the population have NPD. 

This study did go through separate parts of the world to try to figure out PD prevalence, indicating a 9.7% PD rate in the population, however, it is important to note that the people conducting this study are American, and Americans have a history of ignoring other areas’ cultural expectations. As such, it’s possible some people in this study did/did not meet criteria in certain disorders, as personality disorders are specifically required to be diagnosed in cases where they go against their culture, not against western views on how they should act. 

It’s also important to note that many people with a PD have a higher chance for another PD, especially within their same Cluster. Studies often forget to keep that in mind, and so estimates tend to be higher numbers.

Tl;dr: PDs have a lot of conflicting information on how prevalent they are, especially due to shaky estimates and forgetting to factor in a lot of important information. I would love to give you concrete numbers, but with the current research, I can’t confidently do such. 

#moss speaks #ceres #personality disorders #aspd #npd #moss answers #asks and answers

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 28

catch me completely ignoring dark cybertron lmao

yeahhhh so I'm just gonna skip dark cybertron bc no thanks. I did read the tf wiki articles for the issues tho, which is more than I did in the past, so at least now I kinda know what happened, though I had to suffer thru reading about dark cybertron to learn stuff about it. yikes. reading ABOUT dark cybertron further enforced my decision to not actually read thru it

anyways. the best part of dark cybertron was when chromedome threw prowl off that cliff. that was baller lmfao

a 1 page recap of dark cybertron is about all I can handle. thank you

ooh, the 6 months later smash-cut, I fucking love itttt

nautica’s here!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so happy I love her. also brainstorm, and I love their friendship sm

hvbjdkhfbshdfj god I love them. they have such a fun dynamic 

everyone eavesdropping on a therapy session vhbhdjkhafbhkjsdf. hipaa laws mean nothing as usual 

the casual reveal of captain megatron, oh god 

the title fucking slaps, as usual. this is one of my favorites - ‘world, shut your mouth.’ great stuff, and a song title/reference to boot! and this being part 1: towards peace...chefs kiss

and then we flash back to 6 months earlier...yknow now that I'm rereading this, mtmte has a LOT of framing devices used - there's story-within-a-story, flashback/flash-forwards, storytelling with narration, etc...I love it

god hbvhjakdfbshjkdf rodimus saying ‘magic’ and then the little *magic = science rodimus doesn't understand HBGKJHSDBFKHJSDF my idiot boy ily

rodimus roasting prowl is my fav hbfjdkafshsbjkf ‘maybe the knights can help us find a cure for your personality’ ily sm

and then prowl agreeing w/rodimus a few panels later about megatron’s guilt...

optimus...don't you think that making yourself chief of justice is...maybe a bad idea...like, maybe there's a conflict of interests here...just a little bit of bias...a bit too much history, perhaps...

the fact that all the big roles in the trial were given to high-ranking autobots who were heavily involved in the war...I see that cybertrons justice system is as much of a farce as their medical ethics and patient confidentiality laws 

the ‘you BROKE the MATRIX’ panel is so good bjhkdhfbajskhdf

rodimus: LISTEN dad I just wanna resume my space cruise with my frat bro ship I have no interest in politics

psychiatrists HATE him! local former warlord refuses to recognize the validity of psychological analyzation of people’s actions

ravage casually breaking hipaa laws and chilling in megatron’s therapy session like >:3

I love rung...he’s so good at like, passive-aggressively cutting right to the heart of someone’s issues, and he’s so generally mild that you can’t even really get mad at him 

the sudden inclusion of megatron as a major character in mtmte is kinda jarring at first - mostly, for me at least, due in part because I didn't read dark cybertron so this is like, megatron’s introduction as a relevant character in general - but I feel like jro does a great job laying a lot of intrigue down from the very beginning w/his character - like, I already want to know more about what his whole deal is, even though we have, ostensibly, seen pretty much all of his story play out already 

rung name-dropping froid...i remember that made me lose my shit bc cmon. FROID....jesus christ

rung and megatron: holy shit! we’re suddenly being drawn in a 90s-esque sci-fi tron-looking retro-futuristic style!

interesting that megatron sought rung out, and not the other way around

RIPTIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my favorite sharkboy is HERE

CREWDITIONS...YES....

‘we’re not allowed to take anyone who might remind rodimus of prowl’ vhbhjdkshfbhaskfd brutal

I love nautica so so much. a perfect autistic scientist after my own heart

I adore that nautica brought chromia along for moral support

hgvbjdakhfbhsj and then swerve saying that rodimus hates ‘trisyllabic names’ and nautica is like....but....‘rodimus’.....

and then nightbeat busts in to get all bbc sherlock on they asses hgbfhjadkfbjaskdf

WHY was perceptor at the crewditions if he was already part of the crew lmao

ooof, and then we have megatron flipping out when chromedome, a mnemosurgeon, shows up

also damn the autobots were rlly like okay so we wanna speed this trial up so lets just like, probe megatrons brain, that seems completely ethical, especially when you consider the history of shadowplay and stuff that our previous government had

I know important stuff is happening but megatron is holding a CUBE and I love CUBES so I'm distracted by that. C U B E

and then right after a scene where we see chromedome willing to perform mnemosurgery again - despite rewind’s like, dying wish for him not to - we hear that he’s been locked up in his room rewatching rewinds goodbye message over and over again :( I'm fucking depressed

I love nightbeat, he’s so funny and kind of an asshole

and then you see more missing letters behind them next panel...clearly nightbeat is right and there’s a mystery afoot...OR somebody is fucking with the ship’s lettering as a prank, which is a plot point I would absolutely buy

yeahhhh skids is right, chromedome is clearly Not dealing 

the dramatic graffiti on megatrons door...I wanna know who spray-painted ‘die’ everywhere like they're reaper overwatch

oh god. whirl vs megatron

really cool red lighting tho

GOD its so brutal, all the stuff megatron said about how he told the cons not to kill whirl...and doesn't that end up being false anyways? so he was just saying it to dig at whirl, which is awful

also I'm never over the fact that literally everyone - including megatron and whirl - blames whirl for ‘turning megatron violent,’ as if the entire Point isn't that whirl was a tool for a corrupt system, and if it wasn't whirl it would've just been someone else, and megatron turning away from pacifism was inevitable given the circumstances, AND also a choice on his part, so he really only has himself to blame for his OWN ACTIONS

bye bye whirls right arm, see you in lost light 

‘people never stop changing’ that IS something I say all the time...damn you warlord grandpa! how can you steal my philosophies?!

ohhh man and then rewind’s goodbye message being different....oooh

AUGH the fact that whirl was basically trying to goad megatron into killing him, just like he did in issue 1 w/cyclonus...It Hurts Man

also I do love the hint at who he’s talking to w/whirl shooting megatron with the bow and arrow earlier, and we know that atomizer is a fan of those

ok, but here’s where my philosophy diverges - megatron talks about throwing away his past and starting new, but I think that you have to learn from and build on your past...either way, megatron’s arc is one that I enjoy greatly from a character writing standpoint, and I'm excited to get it underway, especially w/how controversial it is lmao

big ole double-page spread...I like how you can pick out individual characters in the background crowd, which is crazy cause that's a LOT of people. also how come cosmos is so HUGE

phewwww 4.6 billion cybertronians died in the war, that’s INSANE. that's like, an incomprehensibly huge number. is there an estimate for their current population? I bet its not a lot. no wonder jro leaned into reproductive themes so much in mtmte/ll - of course the continuation of your species would be a concern for many if your numbers have been that greatly reduced

optimus w/his fancy tyrest-lookin crown

oughdajbfsbdf and the fact that megatron ALSO murdered 100 BILLION non-cybertronians...bruh. I feel like they maybe should've dialed those numbers back a little to allow his ‘redemption arc’ to run a little smoother lmao. but also I admire the commitment either way

and then we end w/megatron doing captain stuff, and seeing The Coffin...and we never did see rodimus in any of the flash-forward parts of this issue, did we???? I love how concerning that is. where's my BOY

also of course we gotta remember the warning from way back at the beginning of mtmte: ‘don't open the coffin’....

and so begins mtmte s2! man I love s2. I love mtmte in general lmao. s2 takes on the impossible w/the whole ‘megatron redemption arc’ thing, and I know that’s like, a divisive plot point and stuff, but from a writing standpoint I enjoyed it a lot...I think it was pretty much as well done as it could've been given the enormity of the task, and I thought it was a really interesting direction for the story to go in 

also espec if it’s true that hasbro was like ‘hey jro put megatron in your story and give him a redemption arc’ rather than jro like, planning/asking to do it 

anyways. I doubt ill talk much abt the disc horse(tm) here bc this is just for fun and also my own personal opinions and whatever, but I for one am excited to reexperience this stuff 

so yeah s2 off to a strong start with some wild shit already happening! cant wait to read more!

#lj rereads mtmte

[notebooknebula]

Jay Conner - Members Site Invite

https://www.jayconner.com/jay-conner-members-site-invite/

Jay Conner talks about the mindset of successful real estate investors. Join our new Private Money Academy with a free 30 day trial Visit:

https://www.jayconner.com/trial

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

Well, hello there! And welcome to another episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I’m Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority. Also your host here on the show. If you’re brand new to Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner, here we talk about all things related to real estate investing. All kinds of deals! We talk about single family houses, commercial deals, land deals, wholesaling, self storage, any kind of real estate deal that you can think about. And we talk about how to find hot deals, how to get them funded without using your credit or banks or mortgage companies or experience. We talk about how to sell deals fast. How to get paid fast. And just as important as anything else, we talk about how to automate your business to where you are running your business and your business is not running you. Well, again, a very special welcome to everybody.

And on today’s episode, I’ve got a very, very special and exciting announcement. You see, I have recently launched my brand new, Private Money Academy Membership. That’s right. It’s called the Private Money Academy Membership. Before I dive in and tell you what this membership is about and how you can get access to the membership, absolutely for free! Before I tell you that, I want to tell you, take just a moment and tell you why it is that I’m qualified to talk with you about private money. Well, first of all, what is private money? Well, private money is getting funding for your real estate deals. And it’s got nothing to do with mortgage companies. And it’s got nothing to do with hard money. I’m not talking about hard money funding for your real estate deals. I’m talking about private money. I’m talking about getting funding for your deals from individuals who loan you money on your deals, either from their investment capital or from their self directed IRAs.

Well, how in the world is Jay Conner qualified to tell you about this? Well, it all starts back in 2003. You see my wife, Carol Joy, and I, we live here in Eastern North Carolina in a real small town called Morehead City, North Carolina. Population, only 8,000. And our total target market’s only got 40,000 people here in Eastern North Carolina, where we invest in single family houses. Since 2003, we’ve invested in rehabbed over 400 single family houses. And you see, the first six years we relied on local banks to fund our deals. From 2003 to 2009, we were getting funding and financing for our real estate deals from the local banks. Well, in January, 2009, I called up my banker. I had two deals under contract to buy. And I found out very quickly on that conversation that I’ve been cut off with no more financing, no more funding with zero notice.

And you see, at that time I had an 800 credit score. Still do! Excellent credit. Never late on my payments. So why in the world was it that I was cut off with no notice? Well, not only was I cut off, but the entire world was cut off. It was a financial global crisis. And so I found my way needing a better way and quicker way to get my deals funded without relying on local banks, mortgage companies and traditional financing. I was introduced very quickly to this world of private money where I borrow money from individuals. So in less than 90 days of learning about this world of private money, I was able to raise and attract $2,150,000 in private money funding. I also call it Relationship Money. Okay? It’s doing business with individuals. And so you see that crisis, that difficulty, that challenge actually turned out to be a huge blessing in disguise.

Since my banker cut me off from my funding and I had to find a better and quicker way. Well, because of that challenge, our business, Carol Joy’s and my business tripled that next 12 months because I had the funding available. Well, what does this story have to relate to what I’m sharing with you today? So I am now making available to you for a limited time, access for free to the Private Money Academy Membership. So let me tell you what this is, what the membership is about, why you would want to get free access to the membership and what the benefits are.

First of all, the Private Money Academy is a monthly membership of real estate investors. I have new real estate investors that have never done their first deal. I have seasoned real estate investors in the Private Money Academy Membership that are looking for more funding for their deals. So this membership is for everybody, whether you’re brand new and never done a deal before, or you’re a seasoned real estate investor looking for more funding.

So why get access and why take me up on this offer to get free access? First of all, you get me twice a month. So twice a month, I’d do a one hour zoom coaching conference call for the Private Money Academy Members. On this call, I talk about my recent deals that I’m doing, how I’m structuring the deals, how I’m finding deals before other real estate investors know about these deals. And so I give case studies. Real life examples. Also on the twice a month zoom conference for the Private Money Academy Members, I will put one of the members, and that can be you at the upcoming zoom conference coaching call. I put one of the members on what we call in the hot seat.

In the hot seat, we analyze your business. I analyze your business. And take a look at where you are, what’s your current real estate investing business look like, what is it that’s holding you back, your challenges, what do you need help with. And I put together a strategy for you on how to really get your real estate investing business moving forward. If you need help on getting private money, I’d tell you exactly on how to get the private money for the funding of your deals.

So, we have the hot seats. In addition to that, we have a Community of the Private Money Academy Members. I have a closed private Facebook group just for the Private Money Academy Members. So when you become a member, you now have access. What in the world are the benefits of this Facebook group? You get to post questions to me at any time that you want to in the group forum. You get to post a, you know, here’s a deal. You know, how would you go about structuring this deal. Any kind of real estate investing support that you need in the Facebook group.

Now, in addition to that, of the two calls, zoom calls that are live and we record every one of them every month and the Facebook group. In addition to that, there are four other areas in the membership site. The Private Money Academy. Number one, there’s membership training. That’s where I have new training coming out every month. All aspects of real estate. Wholesaling, finding deals, how to get your deals funded, how to flip properties, how to work with contractors, real estate agents, how to work with real real estate attorneys, how to automate your business, what kind of marketing to do, et cetera, et cetera. And we do personal development. How to own the real estate that’s in between your ears, right? Until you own this. You can’t own that out there.

The second session or section of the membership site, our monthly interviews. That’s where I interview other experts in other areas of real estate investing. Commercial, land, raw land, self storage, et cetera.

The third area of the Private Money Academy is where it’s called Jay Talks Deals. So these are actual case studies of deals that I am doing and previous deals. The lessons you can learn, the marketing of how I found these properties, the actual learning of how to estimate repairs within 10 minutes of being right there on the spot. So rehab budgeting, how to sell an exit quickly, how to sell using multiple strategies and et cetera.

The fourth area are my Successful Student Interviews. So I interview students of mine that have worked with me in my coaching programs. What are their businesses looking like? How are they finding deals? How much private money have they raised and how much private money they’re working with? So all these different areas of the membership site, we update every month.

So, that’s an overview of the benefits. How in the world is it that you can get free access as a member? Well, here it is. Go to, right now after the show, http://www.JayConner.com/Trial Again, that’s http://www.JayConner.com/Trial. What you will get there is four weeks. Absolutely free! No charge whatsoever! To check it out, come to the, to the next step, to live zoom of conference calls that we do for the members. Check out the hot seat. You get access to the membership site where you get the benefits and training that I just talked about.

And on top of that, I’ve got a brand new bonus training that I just put in the membership site that is titled Foreclosure Secrets. Foreclosure Secrets. I just created that training and it’s just brand new in the membership site. So come on! In fact, if you get in right now, go to the website, you can be, and you will be invited to the next upcoming live zoom conference call for the members in the Private Money Academy.

So get right on over to http://www.JayConner.com/Trial and I look forward to seeing you at the upcoming Private Money Academy, zoom conference call. I’m Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority. Wishing you all the best. Here’s to taking your real estate investing business to the next level. And I’ll see you on the inside at the Private Money Academy. I’ll see you there.

#Jay Conner #Private Money Lender #Real Estate Business #Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Real Estate Investor #Real Estate Profit #The Private Money Authority

[dr3am-t3am]

quick comment i wanted to make on the fan art issue, that i would’ve put on twitter if it weren't for its stupid character limit

i really really do understand both sides. in all honesty, im not mad at all, bc i think the issue is more with twitter itself than either dream or the artists, but tensions got rlly high last night and i feel for everyone that was affected. i do wanna say tho, the twitter algorithm really puts artists at a h u g e disadvantage. 

to everyone and anyone affected, pls feel free to talk to me? and if you have fan art, feel free to message me w/ it. im v far from anything resembling a big account both here and on twitter, but i will definitely boost ur art if u send it ! we really can't expect ccs to see or boost our art, just from the crappiness of social media algorithms alone, but when artists work together to help each other and such we can still make sure that all of our art is appreciated and loved by the community. love y'all !! <3 <3 <3

more hypothetical discussion and thoughts under the cut

again, i am a fanartist. i am also a fanfic writer, and i started on tumblr, so i know that bc of my experiences, im gonna be a lot less? affected? i guess by limited interactions from ccs. on tumblr, there’s no way you're gonna get noticed by ccs (which is a perk, sometimes) and when you’re a fanfic writer you really dont even ask for positive attention you really just want people to stop giving you negative attention haha

that being said, i understand people’s frustration with dream bc he hasn’t been interacting as much with art. i maintain that this frustration should be more directed to the twitter algorithm, tho. 

(who’s ready for some hypothetical math?)

let’s say that an artist takes 1 hour to make one piece of art. this is honestly, really really dang fast, many detailed full pieces of art take 2-3 hours at least, and many others will take 8, 10, or even more. but we’re gonna give the artist the benefit of the doubt anyways and say that they take 1 hour. 

Now how about stan accounts? Let’s say that they make 5 posts an hour. This is honestly, probably a low ball! Each post takes a few seconds to make, a lot of the time, and plenty of accounts are much more active than posting every 12 minutes. But we’re gonna, again, make this situation the best possible situation for the artist, and let’s say that the stan account only posts 5 times an hour. Even with this situation, for each post that the artist makes, assuming that they @ dream every time, he’s going to see 5 posts by a stan account.

Artists also tend to be very outnumbered on twitter, so let’s say for every artist, there are 10 stan accounts. Let’s assume that they also make 5 posts an hour. So for each artist that shows up in dream’s notifications, he’s going to see 50 posts by stan accounts.

But artists get fatigued! We’re going to go with a high estimate again with 4 fully finished pieces a day. (this is insane! keep in mind, even if we’re lowballing the time put in, this is still 4 hours a day of art. for most artists, their fully finished pieces take 2, 3, 4 hours. four pieces a day would put them at 8-16 hours of work!!). on the other hand, stan account posts take a lot less time to make, and are much less likely to make them fatigued. Therefore, we can assume that the stan accounts, posting 5 times an hour, can stay active for 8 hours a day. 

What does this put us at? For every post that an artist makes with a fully finished piece of art, dream is seeing 100 notifications from stan accounts. This doesn’t even include how dream is more likely to respond to those who interact with his tweets, which is nigh impossible for artists because they cannot make a piece of art to reply to his posts in the ~5 minutes that he will look at the replies to the post he posts. I also made this situation the best possible situation for the artist. In reality, I can only make about one fully finished piece a day, and more often will go two or three days without posting. There are also far more stan accounts than artists, stan accounts are often active for longer than 8 hours and post more than once every 12 minutes. The real ratio might be more like 1 in 200, 300, 400. Just because of the algorithm, artists are pretty dang screwed.

Dream has been making efforts to help with this, such as through the dreamfanart tag! this manages to filter out all of the stan accounts, and when fan artists use it he’s going to be much more likely to see the art. even so, the amount of artists he will actually interact with is very low. it’s just the way the website works, when his notifications are definitely constantly flooded, when artists are so easily drowned out by the literal army of stan accounts on twitter. in the end, it’s really up to artists to hype each other up and support each other. My best advice for if you want more appreciation and interaction are:

1. use the dreamfanart tag! again, this manages to filter out most of the stan account activity, and will help other people to find your art if you’re a relatively new artist

2. self advertise! retweet your own art, reply with your art under people’s posts hyping up artists, dont be afraid to put yourself out there. if you want your voice to be heard in the sound of all these other accounts, you have to be loud!

3. interact with other artists! by helping and hyping up other artists, theyre more likely to do so with you. artists are a pretty small population of dttwt, and we have to support each other to get anywhere. retweet, like, reply to people’s art. follow dttwt artists and support them! 

4. love your art for what you’ve already done. this is the hardest part, especially when you put hours into a piece and see it get like, less than 10 likes. i have been there, and it sucks. but your art is Good. you put your time, effort, and heart into that, and regardless of how other people respond, you did good and im proud of you. <3

a last note: i have to admit, i wasn't the most comfortable with all of the dttwt artists bullying and venting their frustrations at dream, specifically, for “ignoring” fan artists. could he have interacted more? definitely. but i dont think he was by any means trying to “ignore” fan artists. his notifications are swamped, his tl is swamped. twitter works in a way where a day or two after you make a piece of art, it’s pretty much buried and lost forever. last night he was just trying to do a good thing by shouting out some small accounts in the community. fan artists, i am a part of you, and i feel your pain and frustration, but please don’t speak out of a place of anger. it’s far too easy to say something, publicly, that you’ll regret. i do not condone any of the hate sent anywhere, especially to fan artists last night, but let’s all remember to be kind and build each other up, ok? We’re all in this together, ccs, stan accounts, fan artists. we’re all doing this because we love the dteam and the content they make. don’t lose sight of why we’re here in the first place <3 

again, love you guys so much. take care of yourselves! im proud of all of you, fan artists, fanfic writers, any and all creators, as well as those of you who are just here to express your love for the dteam. be kind and support one another, ok? <3 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Emp-ire “Anti-Alliance.”

So my schedule at work has been really weird lately, so I apologize for the weird posting schedule and if things seem a little cramped. I am trying to keep upon my posting, but it has been rather difficult recently.

I hope you all enjoy :)

He hadn’t thought that Spartans were normally meant for stealth with their red cloaks, bright red feathers, and pockmarked golden shields, but he had been wrong before. The ground below them was rocky even as they ducked and dodged through the large boulder field that marked the edge of a wide white salt flat.

From a distance it wouldn’t have looked all that interesting accept for familiar pockmarks in the ground, which he recognized to be evidence left behind from the landing struts of shuttles. His head was still reeling over the idea that there was any sort of Anti-GA resistance. Yeah he knew there were the isolationists and others who did not agree with their cooperation with alien lifeforms, but the idea that people would go to such lengths as to sell weapons to each other was nearly mind boggling.

He would have understood if the government were at all…. Oppressive, and granted there had been a few times when the GA hadn’t gotten it right, especially when it came to the whole LFIL business, but things had been rectified, and there were good relations all across the galaxy. Is only other thought is that maybe the people blamed the GA for the invasion of Earth, though how that could have been called an invasion was beyond him.

Most of the Burg had died within the first few minutes of landing on the planet, and there had only been one reported casualty in the entirety of Mericanda, that being a frail old lady who had seen the Burg from a distance and died of a heart attack related to shock, which he hardly thought counted.

Things were going good for them. In the history of humanity things had honestly never been better, so why someone would want to go and screw that up was beyond him.

But you couldn’t make everyone happy.

He slid into place next to James, the king of Sparta, and Xanthia, the queen, A they poked their heads over the rocks.

James had pulled off his helmet and handed it to Xanthia as he peered over the rock.

“What are we doing here?” Adam muttered as he glanced between a set of rocks and towards the deserted salt field. His bare knee ached from where he knelt on the partial gravel. The leather skirts may have been nice for the mediteranian climate, but he still missed wearing pants. He switched to his other knee, the fake one, so he might be more comfortable.

“My operatives in Athens recently sent me a report detailing this as the place where the anti-alliance ships have been landing.”

“Spies? But that doesn’t seem-”

“Not very Spartan of me? Well Adam, just because we took some inspiration from Ancient sparta doesn’t mean we do everything exactly like they did, besides Spartans were at war far more often than us?”

“Speaking of which, do you guys actually fight anyone?”

“Under GA law, we generally don’t, but the Anti-alliance scumbags work outside the law, and based on some of their actions, which have in the past included slave trafficking, I have taken it upon myself to dispatch a few of them. And no one has gone to the government about my activities because if they did, they would have to explain what they were doing in the first place.’

He gripped his spear tighter, ‘And as technical royalty, I am allowed, by law, mind you to police my own planet.”

Ramirez had schooted up next to them crouched low, using his spear to help him crawl over the rocks.

James nodded to him and he nodded back.

“What are you planning on doing.”

“Well, first of all, since you are here, I want to give you proof of what I have been saying all along, and then maybe you will understand better what is going on here. I want you to see that I’m not just some kind of tyrant trying to get rid of people who disagree with me.” he pointed towards the salt flat, “I really believe that these people need to be removed, but It would take a lot off my conscience if you knew that as well.”

Queen Xanthea raised her head, lips pressing together slightly.

Adam had a feeling that even if he did agree, the queen wasn’t likely to stop anytime soon.

The troop of spartan soldiers crouched behind the rocks with a stiff breeze blowing through them.

Adam had grown immune to mild temperature discomfort since his training had begun, and barely even noticed the early morning chill that rolled over him. Glancing out the corner of his eye, he noticed Ramirez and another one of the young spartans crouching close together, almost touching, sharting body heat.

He shook his head slightly.

Leave it to Ramirez to land a fling with a Spartan.

He turned his head back to the salt field, and was surprised to find movement on the far side.

The Spartans grew very quiet as they watched across the open plante to where a group of people had just emerged from the rocks.

A few of them were dressed like simple athenians in their tunics or togas, but there were a few more dressed in flight suits, looking very out of place on the Grecian landscape. Adam cocked his head trying to hear better, and watched as the king of the Spartains tilted his head and pressed into the skin below his ear. 

Adam forgot that the Spartan King also had a military grade translation implant and data chip installed just like everyone else. 

And also that he had one too, and therefore could amplify the sound.

He followed the Spartain’s lead and was just able to pick up the tail end of a conversation.

“We are moving them to the market on A1-36.”

“The GA has presence there don’t they/”

“It’s just a supply waystop for them, they don’t actually go in.”

“You know how the GA feels about slave trade.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what the GA thinks about the slave trade, without it we wouldnt be able to pay the damn Kree.” He snorted, “Little bastards upped their price after the war, and now we are having to pay them double for being involved.”

“Why are we even doing this? We haven’t gotten anywhere, too small time to really even make a dent.”

Their leader turned to glower at them, “All big operations started out small-time. Now shut the hell up, and stop bitching. We have work to do.” 

There was a roaring in the sky overhead, and the group turned their eyes up towards the great blue vastness as they watched a silver distortion roll like a hazy wave through the atmosphere. Adam didn’t even realize what it was until the shuttle touched down, and noted the reflective skin covering it’s hull.

It was a pretty clever if low-budget trick, though they didn’t need anything more high-tech on a planet that didn’t really seem to use technology in the first place.

The door to the shuttle hissed open, and a group of men stepped out dressed in black flight suits.

A few of them carried weapons, though the vast majority of them were armed with only batons.

While the distribution of firearms was common on earth, and an estimated 65% of the population owned one for personal use, the ability to get your hands on a human grade firearm in space was a little harder.

The GA had strict regulations on the movement of weapons through intergalactic airspace, and you had to have permits out the ass to even own one.

However, since when did laws ever stop criminals?

He doubted that any of these men actually had a permit, which was an arrestable violation to begin with, though he had more than enough probable cause to arrest these men anyway. 

He stayed put however, and waited for the scene to unfold before them as the group of men stepped down onto the salt, their boots crunching against the ground looking around nervously at the rocks.

If these men had had any REAL military equipment on them, their shuttle would have been able to detect the heat signatures of the company of Spartans crouched in the rocks, but even so, no one had noticed them, and they wanted with bated breath as the group of men met up with each other.

“Parked her in low orbit, sir.”

“Good, then let's get things going before anyone has the chance to notice. The damned Neo-Spartan bastards have been giving me trouble. I have had to change shuttle sites three times in the past month. I have a feeling those assholes have spies with the Athenians, though I can’t prove anything.”

“There are no spies, that’s not how the spartans work.” One of the Athenians piped in.

The man turned to look at the speaker, “Then your men are just Fucking incompetent because how else do the spartans seem to know where we are at every turn.” He kicked at the salt sending up a wave of white flecks into the air, “The Damned Spartan King and his and his stupid skirt-wearing, oily, dog shagging bastards showing up every damn time I try to do anything around here.”

The group stood around watching as their leader threw his little fit.

Behind the stones, the skit-wearing oily bastards grinned a little at each other. 

Adam bared his teeth.

He already didn’t like this guy, though the man didn’t exactly make it difficult to hate him.

“Whatever, just get them on the dam shuttle so they aren’t my problem anymore. All the wining and complaining and bitching. You were stupid enough to get caught now they can suffer the consequences.”

Adam had met psychopaths in the past, and even though the last one had totally tried to kill him, he was still pretty sure he liked that one better. This guy was much, much worse.

He talked too much.

And that was coming from Adam, the kind of talking too much.

His hand tightened around the shaft of his spear as he moved into position with the other spartans.

The kind nodded back towards the rest of the group, and then quietly engaged the shielding over the metal faces of their shiels. They had spears and the enemy had bullets, not that that would matter once they got within stabbing range, but until ten, it was a good idea to have some cover.

There was a soft shuffling from the other side of the valley, and a group of chained prisoners were walked out onto the salt. Most of them were alien, Tesraki, and Finnari, but a few of them were human. Adam’s stomach clenched as he noted that most of the human prisoners were wide eyed young women.

His teeth ground together in anger, and beside him he could feel the tensing of muscles from the other Spartans as they responded similarly.

James cracked his knuckles and Xanthia pulled her short sword.

That was an odd thing about her, she didn’t seem all that interested in the use of spears, but he HAD seen her use her two short swords before, and boy was it a sight.

These men were in for a wold of hurt.

Adam looked to James who nodded back at him.

This was clearly enough proof for them.

The Spartan’s shifted as one unit to the balls of their feet, pulling out their spears and adjusting their shields on their left arms.

Adam scooted up next to James on his left, and Ramirez covered Adam’s left in return. 

Their shields hummed  softly with the faint blue pusing of the shields.

James raised his spear, and the men waited on bated breath as the prisoners were brought out further onto the salt. The men with guns were turned away, their focus pulled to the chained prisoners who whimpered pitifully as they were dragged over the salt.

James thrust his spear into the air.

The men did not let out a war cry like they had practiced on so many occasions before, but they went running as silently as possible at full tilt across the salt, keeping in tight formation with each other as they did.

The prisoners noticed them first, and then the gunman allerted to their rapid approach by the clattering of shields and spears. They turned with shocked expressions on their faces just in time to be bowled to the ground by a wave of bodies and metal.

Adam rammed into one of the gunmen hearing the subsonic crack of the rifle as a bullet tore into the salt near his feet. He slammed the man to the ground with his shield. And then raise it just in time to deflect another bullet. Before he could take care of the next man, Xanthia was already there. The cything of her sword caught the man in the wrist completely severing his hand, then she kicked him hard in the chest causing him to fly back over the stone. Blood pooled in crimson puddles against the white salt as the group of Spartans hurried to surround the cowering prisoners.

Adam put his back to them and crouched low behind his shield spear at the ready.

He looked around in the confusion, and saw the slimy little rat running the operation as he clawed his way up the nearest incline and away from the fighting.

He bared his teeth in anger, before turning to shout to someone to take care of him, but it was just at that moment that a horn blast somewhere in the distance.

The group of them turned to look…. As a wave of Athenian soldiers came roaring over the hill.

***

“SHIELDS!” He heard James shout, and crouched down, interlocking the large round shield with the men on his left and right. Behind him, Ramirez was suddenly at his shoulder spear at the ready. Another man behind him locked a shield in palace over Adam’s.

At their backs, the mall group of prisoners cowered together in fear as they were surrounded by the spartan shield wall.

“BRACE1” James shouted, and Adam dug his sandals into the dirt.

The first wave of Athenian soldiers crashed against them, and the shield wall racked back absorbing the impact.

“PUSH!” Came the shout and with a heave of his legs and his back Adam slammed the shield forward pushing the Athenian soldiers back a good two feet, a few of them stumbled to the ground. He opened the shield just enough for Ramirez to lunge forward, stabbing outward at the first line of Athenian soldiers catching one in the stomach before pulling back behind the shield wall.

They turtles up again as the Athenians slammed against them one more time, and again they held, Throwing  them back with a powerful push which sent them sprawling to the ground.

The Athenian line broke.

WIth screams and cries of fear the scattered as the Spartans broke from their shield wall and charged into the frey.

Adam and Ramirez roared out together.

Adam clobbered one of the Athenians with his shield knocking him to the ground for Ramirez to finish off. He thrust his spear forward and waist height, impaling one man straight through the stomach and out his back. The Athenian looked almost surprised as he was thrown to the ground, a hole torn straight through him.

Adam had no time to think about what he had just done, as he stepped over the man’s body to meet another.

This time his spear caught the man in the throat. He knocked the body to the side, and use the reverse end of his spear to turn and take a man who had been sneaking up behind Ramirez.

Blood painted the white ground red as the short pitched battle came to a head.

James and Xanthia fell into step beside Ramirez and Adam and together they washed through the battlefield like a tidal wave of destruction. Adam caught one man’s swords on the haft of his spear, and james darted in, taking the man between the ribs with the point of his own weapon. Behind them Xanthai and Ramirez held their backs, chasing the enemy away from the cowering prisoners.

Adam took a cut high on his cheek feeling warm blood run in slow trickles down his face to drizzle onto his collarbone.

The shield protected his unarmed torso as he roared into another line of men batting them back.

After all the raining he had done with the spartans, these men were barely worth a match, especially since he had trained in the spear against creatures with four arms instead of two.

An athenian charged at him, and he ducked low, catching them in the upper legs and waist with his shield before heaving with his legs and back, sending them up and over his head with a wail and straight into Ramirez’s spear.

He was surrounded by at least three men in the second moment.

One was blocked with his shield, one with his spear, and he kicked the other directly in the chest sanding him spinning backward and away.

He plowed painfully into the ground.

Adam ducked to the side as the man’s sword cut past his arm, cutting his friend in the thigh. He let the spear drop through his hands, caught it near the end and drew the spike right into the man’s face.

There was a brutal crack but he didn’t stop to look as he spun, pulled back his spear, catching it on the balance point in the middle and threw it with unerring accuracy into the chest of the second man no ten feet away.

He fell to the ground sputtering as Adam ran forward and tore the spear from his chest.

He spun, but there was no one there to fight.

Lowering his spear, he stopped to look around at the carnage and blood that drenched the ground.

The Spartans were finishing off the Athenians who had attacked them and Adam lifted his head to find Xanthia dragging the rat from back down the hill. He had a horrible gash across his face, and was bleeding profusely down his front. Adam tried not to look at the bodies that littered the ground below his feet and hurried to join James ashe marched forward, 

Xanthia threw the man to the ground, and Adam and James both stepped over the body as he lay in the dirt.

“Been a hot minute since I last saw you.” James said casually as he bent don to look the rat in the eye.

The man snarled at him.

James shook his head, and then pointed at Adam, “Do you know this man?”

He turned his head to look up at Adam. At first there was no recognition, and then his eyes widened in shock and horror.

“Exactly, now the GA knows about your little group, and sanctioned what we have done here today. You have taken slaves which is the highest offence of the GA. You attacked A GA officer, and I would continue adding to the list, but we might be here all day.”

The man just stared at him with his cold dark eyes.

James leaned a little closer spear in one hand.

A cry of pain broke through their little conversation, and they all turned to look in that direction unconsciously.

Adam gave the credit to his mechanical eye for catching the movement.

The rat had taken the opportunity and launched forward drawing a small blade from his belt, aimed straight at James’s throat. Adam, reacting as fast as he could dove forward, shoving James out of the way.

He staggered and hit the ground. The little blade missed its mark but impeded itself high in Adam’s shoulder.

His adrenaline was pumping so hard that he barely even noticed as he turned and slugged the rat in the face. He hit the ground, eyes rolled back in his head. Xanthia reacted only a moment after him. Her swords to the man’s throat but he was already incapacitated.

James turned over into an upright sitting position, staring back at Adam with a look of surprise.

Adam glanced down at his shoulder, and here the small two inch knife was sticking.

It would have been devastating had the man had caught James in the throat, but as it was Adam would probably only need a few stitches.

Xanthia kicked the man in the ribs, and he grunted in pain.

James slowly stood, “You saved my life.”

Adam shrugged, “You would have done the same.” he rested his spear over his shoulder, “Either way, I will want to make a call to the GA and let them know what happened. This is a bit more serious than I had expected.’

James nodded in agreement.

***

Adam and Ramirez stood at the edge of the dock watching as the boat slowly drifted into position.

A group of Spartans stood around them.

Ramirez was off saying goodby to his “friend” and Adam was standing with Xanthia and James.

“It was a pleasure to fight with you, Admiral. It’s a real pity that we can’t keep you and your Marine longer.”

He nodded in agreement, “I wish we could stay as well.” He clasped the other man’s hand, “Keep in touch, it would be a pleasure to fight with you again, plus, I have a couple of aliens I think you would like to meet.”

James smiled, “Any alien that trained you how to fight like that would be welcome.”

He paused and then, Dropped the shield from his arm.

He held his spear and shield out to Adam, “Here, take these.”

Adam looked at him in surprise, at the well worn haft of the spear, and the dented golden metal of the shield, “I, but your weapons…”

“I can fight with any spear and shield, but you saved my life. Maybe one day, these will save yours and we can call each other even.” 

The boat docked.

Ramirez walked over to stand with Adam and together the two of them stepped onto the deck.

Behind them the spartans raised their weapons punching them into the air three times with matching shouts as the King of Sparta saluted them.

Ramirez and Adam saluted back as the rowers began to pull the boat away from the dock.

He was going to miss those men and women.

But now he had to leave, with the knowledge that the anti-alliance was out there.

Hopefully at least, there would be men like the Neo-spartans and their king to keep men like that at bay.

[nightcoremoon]

ethnic genocide is... kind of worse than the criminalization of queerness because like. if you kill all members of an ethnicity, like tutsis or palestinians or armenians or something, that's it, their culture is gone, they're dead. people of different ethnicities can't just rachel dolezal their way into it. the yahi died with ishi and the only remnants of the yahi are through works of the le guins' chronicling his life. it's tragic and it's unfixable. if hitler succeeded in decimating the jews and the romani, they would no longer exist. there are dozens, no, hundreds of native american tribes that were exterminated by the colonists. an estimated hundred million natives lived here before columbus came. and now? there's five million. there are less natives alive today than there were jews murdered during the holocaust. the white invaders killed about 8 times as many people as hitler did. even if the forced sterilizations didn't happen, and even if every single native american alive today got someone pregnant or been impregnated, and even if every single one of them did so with a person of a different ethnicity, and even if the infant mortality rate was zero, even including twins at 3%, even rounding up, even blessing all of them with immortality, even assuming all of them were old enough to consent to and have sex, there is still only a maximum of 6 million native americans able to be born every year. it would take a constant 15 years just to replace who was lost. an estimated 24% of women were sterilized so that's 17 years. if half of all babies had both a native mother and father, that's 24 years. infant mortality for natives is 9%, so that's 25. assuming minors comprise 1/6 of the population, that's 27 years. and keep in mind this doesn't even take into account all of the natives who were born FOR THE PAST 500 YEARS. it's disgusting what was done to them, but this isn't about just the natives even though holy shit I never put it into actual mathematical perspective before and I am significantly more enraged on their behalf than I was before, and that much more understanding of their own righteous fury. giving the land back is the bare fucking minimum for reparations. but anyway.

so yeah, ethnic genocide is really bad. and so is, you know, just for example, the aids crisis. 125,000 AT LEAST people died from aids. most were gay. half as much as corona victims, and 0.5% of the american populace. several people from that time period have said that it wiped out entire swathes of gay people. the entire gay community was decimated. but here we are 25 or so years later and the united states is just... absolutely saturated with queer people. lil nas x is the most popular musician right now. this is a good thing. we've bounced back. we've rebuilt. and we've been able to do so because cishets can give birth to queer kids, who grow up to become queer adults. you cannot get rid of us, because there will always be more of us.

homophobia is horrible of course, and every single government that criminalizes being gay should be erased [not the people because that is genocide which I have previously established as BAD, but governments are not people, they are just the artificial systems developed by the people in power], I don't condone any mass murder of any sort, and civil rights are human rights. I'm not disputing that. white gays don't fuckin REEE at me, I'm literally one of you.

but our experiences are incomparable to theirs.

and when I say "our", I obviously fucking know that there are plenty of Native American, Black, Latine, Asian, Middle Eastern, Slavic, Pacific Islander, and other various people of color who are also queer. I'm not a moron. I don't think that there's only white queers. if you had any reading comprehension at all you'd know that I'm comparing the experience of the white gay directly to the experience of the person of color because a predominant majority of people of color are cishets. and if "they're not cishet if they're from a culture that views gender and sexuality differently from us" then obviously their definitions of homosexual lesbian bi and trans are also different you dumb fuck so shut up and don't drum up any bullshit semantics discourse because I'm not reading any of it. when I say "our" I mean specifically people who have ONLY experienced discrimination based on their gender or sexuality and not any based on their ethnicity (and in the specific sphere of relevance in this post I'm only discussing queer affiliation and ethnicity, and this isn't to suggest that religion and ability and misogyny don't also affect these but I'm not going to talk about that right at this moment), for the sole purpose of making a point that is specifically about gender or sexuality and ethnicity. okay? you got it?

racism is an exponentially bigger problem.

they're both problems but they're not equal in scope. white queers have privilege over cishet poc in the same way visibly abled people have privilege over invisibly abled. you can't look at a person and immediately know if they're gay or trans but you CAN look at a person and know they're brown.

and you could theoretically kill every single queer person alive right now, but in 20 years there's just gonna be more of us. we're like a zucchini farm in that respect. we've always been here and we always will be here.

but you can't say the same for people of color.

ethnic genocide is a very real and very pressing matter that is currently affecting millions.

so it's our duty as white people to at the very goddamn least pay attention to what people of color are saying, and not say dumb shit that's racist, and point out to other people when they say dumb shit that's racist. and it's really easy to just, NOT fight brown people because you're gay and therefore just as oppressed. no. it just doesn't work that way.

black lives matter

protect asian lives

[borkthemork]

So to anyone who wants to know, I am still productive when it comes to writing, it’s just that each chapter for “Get a Hobby, Asshole” will take a while. To compensate for that I’ll post a preview of chapter two (which will probably change as it goes to the finalized version, so keep that in mind when the final product is published!).

[Note: If you hadn’t seen the first chapter, I’d recommend reading to get some context on this chapter. Other than that, the main thing I would like to detail is that Scar is going by a new name, hence the titling of Mus’ab in this preview.]

Time hadn’t been on Roy Mustang’s side. With prior experience, he expected the project to be concise, quick to finish in an estimated three months. But that was a theoretical; the reality had been quick to correct him, and place him in a moment of clarity that told him of one thing: 

Food was a hard proposal to bargain for, and creating the foundation would take more than just a few signatures and a handshake with a begrudging treasurer.

It wasn’t bad at first. Deep within the Gunja projects, somewhere not too far away from the main roads, Roy and Mus’ab located their base of operations. It had a courtyard, dining halls, pantries, rooms for kitchens. If they wanted to install electricity they could, and the building was close enough to the main roads for them to exit and enter without a problem.

All they needed were the materials, and the current artisans to agree with the change of plans.

That was where the worries came in. Financial flow, after all, was the venom and lifeblood of these intiatives — one couldn’t live without the other. And what Roy needed was the go-to, the signal to continue.

It happened on a sweltering morning, a day after his initial proposal. The Gunja outpost had cleaned itself up for the treasurer’s upcoming visit, and Roy knew to grow cordial when the treasurer’s jeep eventually made its way up the sands. 

The door popped open to reveal a slick-haired man and his two advisors. Escorted out by a band of workers, Roy kept himself close to them — spinning out flattery, like he usually did when it came to the higher-ups — as they made their way toward the sun-stained tent.

Mus’ab stood at the front as planned, eyes attentive when he opened the flap, revealing to them the sleek discussion table at the very center. There were a few fans in the corners, a worker to serve up drinks and food, but overall, this was a bargain that Roy had experienced many times before. Where each player went to their assigned seats, steadied their gazes, and readied their papers under their palms.

For this was where the hard part usually begun.

Roy was an expert at conversation. In fact, he could recall numerous times where he'd gotten what he wanted. But the situation he had before him was different.

He could recall what tools they needed, who should be paid, what ingredients were to be gathered, but Roy preferred to keep his points short. He spoke of the basics, of the general accommodations, because Mus’ab was the one who did most of the heavy lifting.

The Ishvalan discussed the ovens, the tandoors, the available choice cuts, and the menagerie of spices that were supposedly vital to the Ishvalan way of cooking. He spoke of these subjects with control, ease. And thank God he led the way, because to Roy Mustang, this entire idea seemed more and more difficult as the details settled down.

Mus’ab knew what cooking entailed. He probably knew how to harvest plants, to shuck corn, and to handle lambs. What the meeting itself said to Roy was that the plan needed people who knew their way around the kitchen, and ultimately, that didn’t fit Roy's description at all.

Roy didn’t know how to cook. He knew how to boil water, to cut fruits and vegetables with steady hands, but anything else was like flipping a coin to decide your own fate. He preferred to buy noodles, takeout, and, if it was possible, invite Hawkeye over for dinner to save money for the both of them.

Because his hands weren't meant for careful work — they were destined to see action one way or another.

So Roy listened. He listened to these men while the corner radio buzzed Amestrian cabaret, as the workers plopped food and drinks onto the table to endure the remainder of the negotiations. Roy always did prefer the spectacle of good company, of comfort instead of excruciating heat.

It also allowed for him to see what the government workers were like under specific circumstances; when they felt entitled, angered, uncomfortable.

Mister Bombarda — with his grease-slick mustache and buzzcut hair — had shown these reactions the moment he came to the table. He had leaned back into his seat when the first entrée arrived, the chair protesting underneath the strain as words and questions flew out his lips. His actions were enough to tell Roy what this man was like: domineering, speculative, happy to combat and ask inquiries like a man in an interview. The traits of a tired government worker, who’d been digging into Roy’s side for months on end. 

His advisors occupied the seats next to him. Both were grim-faced and sweaty with the minutes that past by — the kind who honed at specific key terms, at the way Roy laughed jovially when he got declined a suggestion, but Bombarda didn’t seem to worry. In fact, he had requested a worker another drink amid Mus’ab’s discussion. And that was dangerous.

Roy knew from the beginning that they had to be careful. Even with his position as Brigadier General, the politics of the post-Promised Day government weren't enough to keep him legitimate. People were testing the waters, observing how mixed the morale had become throughout every aspect of the population, and Roy didn’t want to go through another lecture from Grumman anytime soon about putting too much stress on a leadership that was beginning to stand up from what he described was a “pretty awful epileptic fit”. 

If Roy pushed too hard, agencies had the right to decline. If they relented too much, then government workers could treat him and his workers like rag dolls. Any misuse of money could tarnish future political endeavors down the line. And Roy preferred to keep his cards open, sabotage even more so.

So at the sight of Bombarda’s lean, Roy knew that something was amiss.

“This is rather detailed, General.” The man placed his clipboard down. Roy noted the tiny handwriting, at the amount of purchases that listed upward, abruptly ending where the man’s pen laid. “And surprisingly expensive. I thought the food was the only thing you need.”

Roy put on a smile. Mus’ab, however, just continued to look on, seemingly unamused with the current situation. And to be fair, Roy understood the feeling perfectly. “Well, it’s certainly a surprise, isn’t it?”

A grin grew on the treasurer’s face, wiping a speck of sweat from his nose. “Definitely. Of course, financials are always a pain. Sometimes you just want to stick a fifty grand and get it over with. Hell, funding a city like Daliha is enough to make me want to retire.”

Knowing how they talked about this for over three hours — in the heat no less — the sentiment was mutual. Roy still had to be careful, however. Mus’ab hadn’t said a hostile word yet, and whether he himself had the patience to be here was up in the air. But so far, Mus’ab continued to stare at the three men. In thinly-veiled disdain. Not enough to cause a murder.

“But,” the treasurer continued, “I do agree that the potential for autonomy is there. Food always did bring people to tourist areas. Sometimes they were the main factor for a village’s sheer existence on the map.” Bombarda frowned. “And we all know the Ishvalans need that pick-me-up.”

Roy nodded. He was grateful to see that the Ishvalan next to him had eased his expression, although the sight itself didn’t reassure him. Roy pressed a finger to the table. “So are we in agreement?”

The man nodded. “Only eight months to recreate all four-hundred-thirty-six recipes.” 

Roy didn’t flinch, but the man beside him did — now at full height.

“We cannot recreate these recipes within eight months.” Mus’ab put his hands onto the table, pressing them into the wood as he stared at the treasurer, who looked amused in spite of his advisors’ taut faces and protests. “Cooking is Ishvala’s blessing, one of the many ways the community shows its gratitude toward living. You can’t hurry it lest you want to ruin and mock the recipes themselves.”

“I’m sorry, Grand Cleric Mus’ab.” The apology didn’t reach Bombarda’s eyes, and Roy steeled himself for the oncoming lecture. Not only for the inevitable argument afterward, but to stop himself from doing something he would regret. “But we are focusing on different projects all at once. Agencies are trying to rebuild miles of lost housing, replicating duel-cropping and seasonal schedules. We have agencies trying to connect electricity to the streets, civil workers attempting to bring back families into ready accommodations, and who knows what else. The only reason we're considering this is because of the benefits toward the Ishvalan community and economy. The more stable things are, the quicker we’re allowed to let you all go home.”

Roy was careful to grab the man’s arm, but Mus’ab remained rooted, watching the others. The lines in his nose deepened even more. “And food is important to who we are as a people. It’s what makes the Holy Land our home.”

Before Bombarda could respond, Roy intervened: “Economy is imperative, treasurer. If you hasten the progress on the recipes, it wouldn’t be good for business now, would it?” 

His addition was enough. Not too quick and not too slow, but enough to get the point across. The words had to be perfect, of course. Mister Bombarda liked business. So Roy shall give him business. “Low-quality foods would mean weakening a part of the economy’s stable foundation. No stable foundation, then the entire set-up falls.” His gaze hardened, watching Bombarda’s frown twitch under scrutiny. “We all concur that rebuilding Ishval again would be a waste of money.”

Bombarda stared at him, unblinking. His advisors were whispering into his ears, lips fast and hushed. What they were talking about, Roy could only theorize was a second chance — for Bombarda’s frown grew deeper into his features.

After a nerve-wracking moment, he sighed. “Fine. If you can finish half of the assigned recipes by the end of the deadline, we’ll consider an extension.”

Both continued to stare at one another, unyielding.

“Is that good, Grand Cleric?” Bombarda asked finally.

To Roy’s surprise, Mus’ab sat down. 

His hands folded neatly on the table out of kindness, but the shifting glances and fidgeting hands were enough to make Bombarda laugh anxiously when his requested drink finally lowered down onto the table with a dull tink. “Well then, was a good chat. I just need the room’s signatures and we’ll be on our way.”

The sun receded into the mountains when all of them disembarked from the tent. Roy was at least glad to be able to walk, but his chest still bore heaviness, worry; he spotted the Grand Cleric a few minutes afterward. He was exiting the station — fists clenched, shoulders stiff as a board.

The Ishvalan had a right to be angry, but it was inevitable that they had to work with what they were given. That didn't mean the situation was impossible. They were just going to have to work harder, especially with the limit given.

Roy sighed and made his way to the nearby outpost, spotting Hawkeye, stationed with the nearby jeep. 

He rested his head on the vehicle cushion when they drove out of the outpost. His eyes lulled at the horizon, where the bright light ebbed and seeped behind the dunes, the sky a dimming blue.

When the sun rises, Operation Loghmeh will have begun.

#fma

[sunny-hopewell]

#2 - Helena Stinchcomb

posted by sunny hopewell on sept. 12th, 20XX

DISCLAIMER: Please note that, just by reading this, you may succumb to the very phenomenon described here. My hope is that the next people or intelligent life who read this are either themselves resilient to it, or that enough time has passed that the sheer weight of this knowledge no longer causes such a heavy impact on the reader.

This is an attempt to record the phenomenon, once referred to colloquially as “ghosting,” that has resulted in a mass decrease in the Earth’s human population. More specifically, the latest estimate (prior to the disappearance of professionals who had counted) was that only 0.002% of human life remains.

In this series of accounts, I document interviews with remaining survivors of this phenomenon. For more details on the nature of the phenomenon itself, please click here. Otherwise or afterwards, read on at your own risk.

I encountered a woman by the name of Helena Stinchcomb when I saw the fourth floor of a large office building entirely lit up. Thinking perhaps it may have been an outpost containing multiple survivors, both my mission and my curiosity led me to that floor.

I rang the fully-functional doorbell at the back entrance of the first floor. I would consider breaking in only if I received no response, but just shy of a minute later, the very articulate voice of a young woman spoke, asking how she may help me. I explained that I was hoping to ask some questions relating to her take on recent events, but expressed that I understood if she declined to speak— multiple people had already done so for me at this point. You would understand my pleasant surprise when I heard the door bolt unlock, and I was invited in. The woman told me to come on in, explaining she would need to allow me to the fourth floor with her own badge, so she would meet me just inside shortly.

The office lobby seemed unremarkable, aside from its emptiness. The lights seemed to come on as soon as I walked in— likely on a motion-sensor.

It wasn’t long before a young, dark-haired lady emerged from a door that seemed to conceal a concrete staircase. She smiled at me as though I was a visitor to her office, urging me in with an energy that was both friendly and professional. She wore a dark, pin-stripe pantsuit, and her thin, black wireframe glasses only added to her aesthetic.

She showed me upstairs, thanking me for my patience. She explained she was in a meeting until just a few minutes ago, and that the speaker system that allowed me to speak with her outside was across the office. Of course, I asked her how many people were stationed on that floor. To my own disbelief, she estimated nearly 30 folks were in-office that day. 

At this time, we entered the fourth floor’s reception area, which appeared entirely empty. She waved to the empty reception desk on her left briefly, not ceasing her conversation with me about the work they did there. She explained that she worked for a newer kind of advertising firm— when in the 2020’s, social media and technology users realized the extent to which their information was being used without their consent, such firms opened up, acting as a middleman between web users and advertisers who wanted their attention. In essence, she explained, users would come to these firms seeking to sell their web usage data to these advertisers, and the firms would act as representatives for these individuals to advertisers, who they often partnered with for competitive pricing. 

As she finished explaining this, we entered her office. She asked me to wait just a moment while she typed away— a quick message, she said, to one of her part-time work-study students, asking if she could bring the two of us some bottled water and cookies. As she finally closed her laptop, she thanked me once again for my patience and gave me her full attention. The transcript of our interview is as follows:

SH: So, tell me about yourself. What’s your name?

HS: My name is Helena Stinchcomb. I serve in senior leadership here at The People’s Information firm.

SH: It’s very nice to meet you. How has the Ghosting Phenomenon impacted you?

HS: Do you mean personally, or professionally?

SH: Oh, uh— both, provided you’re up to speaking to them.

HS: Sure, I’ll start with personally, since that’s less complex. A few people close to my circles apparently ghosted, but I’ve yet to have anyone in my innermost circles ghost, themselves.

SH: That’s fantastically fortunate, given the numbers.

HS: [laughs] Yeah, I guess you could say that. It’s hard to trust the numbers anymore, though.

SH: How do these people in your circles spend their time?

HS: [hesitating] I— you know, I’ve been so absorbed in my work lately, I really should reach out to them and ask instead of answering that at this time.

SH: Sure thing, thank you for that. Let’s talk about work, then. How has the Ghosting Phenomenon impacted workflow?

HS: Honestly, it’s mostly the same. Lots of people are hiding out in their homes, and are trying to work less at times like this. This, as you can imagine, drives their web usage way up. We’ve since fortified our model for online communications with clients so they never have to meet us in-person. This is the perfect recipe for helping them earn some money just by using the internet.

SH: Have you, personally, been able to reap any benefits as a result of your strong model’s success?

HS: Well, I’m in the process of giving everyone else in this office a sizable raise to recognize our efforts.

SH: That’s fantastic. You must be very proud of your team.

HS: Thank you, I am.

SH: How many folks did you say are in-office, today?

HS: Hmm, I’d say probably just under 30.

SH: All holed up in their office, I take it?

HS: Some of them are a little concerned with ghosting and are isolating there, yes, but not all of them.

SH: What of the others? I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else here yet, today.

HS: [briefly hesitating] I haven’t seen many, but our receptionist Patricia waved to us just in the door. You must have just missed her.

SH: Ah, I see— my mistake. Maybe I’ll catch her once we’ve finished up here and apologize for that.

HS: I think you’d love her— she’s always smiling. Very sweet woman.

SH: So, enough about business— what do you do when you’re not working?

HS: [laughs] Sleeping? We keep pretty busy here, so I work long days, six days a week.

SH: So you just hang loose on your one day off?

HS: Typically, yes. I have three little ones at home— Jack is six, Joseph is seven, and Elena is twelve. They keep me busy in other ways. I’m thankful to my partner for sticking around at home to watch them.

SH: A stay at home parent, then?

HS: Yes, and I’m grateful that she is so willing and capable.

SH: I’m sure she’s lucky to have you, too.

HS: Thank you. [smiles] I like to think so.

SH: If I may ask— [I was cut off by the sudden manifestation of bottled water and small bags of chips on the desk between me and Helena]

HS: [looking at an empty space adjacent to her desk] Ah, thank you, Patricia! Sunny, I’d like for you to meet our receptionist.

SH: [Greeting the empty space] Hello, it’s so nice to meet you. Sorry I missed your hello, earlier.

HS: [After a momentary silence in the room, smiles and chuckles] That’s excellent, Patricia. Thanks so much for bringing this by!

(As if some invisible entity had left the room, Helena’s attention returned to the interview.)

HS: Sorry, what were you saying?

SH: No worries. I was going to ask if you could speak on your perspective of the Ghosting Phenomenon more specifically.

HS: [letting out a deep sigh] I think local leadership has been excellent, given the circumstances of it all. I know it’s still a touchy topic for some people, but I’m still certain that there have been massive exaggerations about the impact of the Ghost Phenomenon on society. Am I saying it’s fake? No. I’m saying it was being used as a ham-fisted tool for social control.

SH: I see... Yes, I can see that causing a mass panic surrounding the phenomenon is usable as a strategic power-move.

HS: I’m so glad you agree. I feel like people are going crazy over a phenomenon that has long since passed.

SH: When was the last time you heard news of a ghosting?

HS: [pausing to think] It’s been a pretty long time… Probably nearing two years, now?

SH: Two years…

HS: I could be a little bit off, but probably by no more than a couple of months. It came and went like that. [snaps her finger]

SH: Ah, I see. Well, before I wrap this interview up, is there anything else you’d like to say to my readers?

HS: Don’t believe everything you hear. Trusting people can be too easy. It takes discipline to distinguish delusion from reality.

SH: Thank you so much. Readers out there, be sure to check out The People’s Information Firm if you’d like to make a little extra cash by just browsing the web.

At the conclusion of this interview, Patricia and I exchanged a few formalities before she showed me back down to the door at my request.

Just to make things absolutely clear: There was not a soul in Helena’s office space apart from the two of us. She spoke to thin air when a Ghost had evidently brought us those snacks— likely in response to the message she had sent out earlier. As stated in my previous post, the general work completed by ghosted individuals in their pre-phenomenon lives remained mostly unchanged. I recall reading about bosses who would send emails to their ghosted employees with assignments, only for the assignments to be completed somewhat quickly. These bosses would scarcely receive reply, but if they ever did, it was in the form of an incoherent, word-vomit sort of email, much like many of the messages you might see online today.

Helena seems to have survived this phenomenon by deluding herself into believing all of these people never vanished. Although nothing could be farther from the truth, I couldn’t bring myself to try and question that reality of hers during our interview. Should I have succeeded in casting doubt on the coping mechanism she had developed, she would have likely ghosted shortly thereafter. My hope is that she continues to live happily as such, blissfully unaware of the empty society in which she lives.

‘Til next time,

- sunny hopewell 

----

tags: #ghosting #hope #humanity #nonfiction #bliss #lifegoeson

#hope #humanity #nonfiction #horror #life goes on #ghosting #sunny-hopewell #the empty society

[in-tua-deep]

Do both Fives get put in school in your double trouble AU? Do they get to have a chance at a (semi) normal childhood? How do the siblings handle having to actually parent one young kid and an actually an old man kid? And does young!Five bring out the childish side of old!Five? I just love this entire concept and young!Five having to fit in with the absolute disaster that his family has turned into. He loves them anyway.

“You know, we could go to school.”

Five flips a page in his book and ignored his ‘twin’ aggressively. But he could feel the heat of the stare from across the room and it was interfering with his concentration. So he glances up to meet gazes with a face identical to his own. “We aren’t going to school.”

“Why not?” Baby Five asks. Five shoots him a look but baby Five ignores him with ease, face earnest in a way they both know is false.

“I am fifty-eight years old.” Five informs his idiot double, as though anyone could ever forget what with Five bringing up his age every other minute. “I’m not going back to school.”

“Did you really keep track in the apocalypse?” Baby Five asks, raising his eyebrows at the other. His face is full of implied doubt, and Five would be offended if it wasn’t founded. When Five doesn’t respond, Baby Five crows triumphantly, “Ha! I knew you didn’t really know how old you are.”

“The Commission estimated!” Five protested, “I’m sure they were accurate!”

“Oh? Just like how accurate they were about the apocalypse definitely happening?” 

There’s really no good response to that so Five just shoves his book off his lap and crosses his arms childishly. Not that he’s a child. They already established this. 

Mercifully, Baby Five drops that line of inquiry to focus on the other equally terrible one. Perhaps not merciful after all. “What’s so bad about going to school, anyway?”

There’s a pause between them, before Five bristles, “It’s - it’s full of children that’s what!”

“You don’t even know what school is like!” Baby Five protests loudly, “You never even went! It could be fun!”

“If media has taught me anything it’s that school is in no way fun.” Five points out, standing his ground on the topic. Admittedly his knowledge of schools is limited - he only tried to scavenge around a couple during the apocalypse. Too many children’s corpses for his comfort, but a decent source of pens and paper and similar supplies.

“Claire said it’s fun.” Baby Five holds his position.

“Claire is six and the only things she’s really learning are how to read and write and make glitter monstrosities to hang upon the refrigerator.” 

“How do you know it wouldn’t be us making cool things to hang on the fridge?” Baby Five challenged, suddenly frowning. “Plus I mean - I dunno. I love Mom but I feel like she should be able to do her own thing, you know? Instead of teaching us?”

Five would like to protest that he doesn’t need the lessons since he’s an adult, but Grace has been a life saver when it comes to bringing both of her boys up to date on the present day and also gently giving them books and worksheets about things they never got to in lessons since they left at thirteen. 

“You want to be stuck learning about basic algebra and geometry?” Five asks instead, because it’s easier focusing on how school inconveniences them instead of how they are inconveniencing others. But his voice is just a tiny bit more uncertain that it was before.

Baby Five sighs deeply, “I mean. I guess not. But I’m bored of staying in the house all day and seeing the same people and just. Ugh. It’s been the same thing my whole life! Can’t we just like, pick and choose what classes to take? Maybe we could do maths with the higher up students.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re at like, the excessively knowledgeable ‘probably has a doctorate in mathematics’ level of maths.” Five says doubtfully, because it’s true. Five has been teaching his counterpart the equations and tricks he’s learned after forty-five years of doing nothing but think about equations and time travel in his spare time, but it’s not like it doesn’t come naturally to them. Five had always been light years ahead of his siblings when it came to the subject, and it was often a point of frustration when the others didn’t get something.

To Five, complex equations and algorithms were as second nature as walking. Sure they’d had to learn the basic at some point, but once they got the hang of it, it was easy. Time travel equations were more akin to figuring out how to walk on water instead of just walking. In this needlessly complex metaphor, that is. 

Baby Five slams his hands on the desk, making Five jump (though he’d deny it if pointed out), “That’s it! We could go to college! They let you pick classes and stuff there, right? So we could just test into the highest math class possible? Or not take one at all!” 

“We’re thirteen.” Five counters, but his tone is a little more thoughtful. “We’d have to take tests and stuff to say we’re ready to graduate high school. Which we are. Actually I’m pretty sure Reginald had us at college level when we were nine.”

“He always did have high expectations. But seriously! Just think about it! We’d get out of the house. We’d learn cool things. Luther ‘n Allison would stop fretting about what we’re gonna do with our lives. A whole new population to play tricks on.” Baby Five grins with mischief, and it makes Five crack a small smile back.

But there’s one problem. 

“Ugh, we’re going to have to legalize our existence if we want to do official things like that. And then they’re not just going to let us do our own thing, what if they try and take us away?” Five has never had a desire to go into the foster system, thank you very much.

“No one ever said we had to do things the legal way.” Baby Five sniffs, as though offended at the very thought of going through proper channels. Which, well. Yeah that sounded like the Hargreeves way. “I bet we could like, just pretend we’re the original Five’s kids or something. We would’ve been what, sixteen? There have been younger parents.”

“Pretend to be our own children? That’s your solution?” Five asks, eyebrows climbing up his face in incredulity. “And then what? Make it so we died and? Left our little orphan selves to family?”

“It’s plausible!” Baby Five protests.

“Yeah, and it would still wind up with us having one of our darling siblings as a legal guardian.” Five said firmly, which was his whole issue with this to begin with. “Which one of the boneheads downstairs do you want to have legal control of our lives?”

“Mom could do it?” 

“If you think Mom legally exists in the eyes of the law you’re even more naive than I thought.” Five sniffs, “She’s even worse off than we are.”

“Well okay miss negative Nancy,” Baby Five huffs, “You figure something out then.”

“Negative Nancy? Have you been hanging out around Klaus too often?” Five looks offended at the very possibility of their brother being an influence on his alternate self. Baby Five sticks out his tongue instead of answering.

There’s a pregnant pause between them before Five sighs, “Ugh. I’ll ask Mom about it tomorrow if it means so much to you. But I still absolutely refuse to attend a public high school with a bunch of snot nosed children.”

“We’re snot nosed children if you haven’t noticed.” Baby Five gestures between them with a roll of his eyes. This time it’s Five who sticks his tongue out childishly in response, even though as an adult he should really be above such things. 

“Maybe we can take a history course and you can correct the professor.” Baby Five offers, a vague sort of olive branch. 

“Bet you we could make at least one physics professor faint by jumping into class.” Five shoots right back, taking said olive branch with as much grace as he can allow. 

“Dibs on the time travel stuff for a thesis.” Baby Five grins.

“Absolutely not.” Five shoots down instantly, “When you spend forty years working on inter-dimensional maths, then and only then can you claim my work you little thief.”

And that ends the discussion on that.

-

BUT YEAH essentially I don’t think any iteration of Five would ever really go to high school with other kids like that because honestly?? even as an actual thirteen year old Five is lightyears ahead on some subjects and he has issues. Can you imagine Five dealing with bullies and gossip and shit teachers?? 

Five would have one (1) person pick on him and break someone’s arm because he was taught violence is the first answer to everything. He’s genuinely kind of too dangerous to be around other kids his age. He’s also not one to suffer fools lightly, and so the first time a teacher taught something wrong (which they would because history class is full of historical revision and Five was probably there for half of it) he would butt heads with someone. I knew teachers who didn’t like to be corrected and I knew teachers who would be thrilled their student actually knows a subject, it just depends.

I mean Five is thirteen and that’s what? Eighth grade? That isn’t even high school yet. I was learning geometry. I was reading the outsiders. Learning all the prepositions in english class. Making bridges out of popsicle sticks in physical science and watching that one miracle of life video again. We had to run the mile every Wednesday and it was the worst. 

You think putting Five in a PE class anywhere near other children and dodgeballs is in any universe a good idea?? He would obliterate them. He would make at least one person cry and probably send another to the nurses office and then, when he got in trouble, wouldn’t understand what he did wrong. Because Diego threw knives at him and probably hit him at least once, a foam ball should be nothing and that kid is making a fuss for no reason. Doing sprints until he pukes - you mean an average Thursday in the Reginald Regime?

at least in college Five would be able to tailor his schedule and take whatever level course he needs. He could be in very high level math courses and be in beginner’s astronomy or intro to archaeology or linguistics 101 or whatever the hell he wants to learn tbh (probably anthropology or contemporary history courses if he wants to catch up to modern day??)

as for the parenting bit, both Five’s aren’t exactly what you would call receptive to being parented by anyone thank you very much and will aggressively tell you to fuck off if you tried

BUT both Five’s also wouldn’t know what the fuck a parent looked like if it hit them in the face with a baseball bat because when they think ‘parent’ they think ‘good old Reggie here to traumatize everyone again’ so their idea of being parented is?? being told to train, being told what to do/being given a schedule to follow with specific hours carved out for everything, private training, being told their flaws in excruciating detail, etc. so like,, if the bigger Hargreeves are careful and subtle about it and frame it in a sibling way then they can sometimes get away with it

after all if Diego drives Klaus everywhere, then it’s not bad if Diego offers to drive the Fives somewhere, even if they can do it themselves. If Allison fusses and puts more food on everyone’s plates then it’s not a thing and doesn’t need to be pointed out. If everyone has to check in with hourly texts to the group chat when they’re out after dark, then it just makes sense that the Fives do as well since knowing where everyone is can only be a boon after all the shit they went through in the apocalypse

honestly the parenting going on is basically just setting up healthy boundaries (making sure the Fives knock before just fuckin jumping into someone’s room or bathroom) and gently coaxing them into going out and doing things which they can frame as family outings/taking Grace out to see the world, and also gently nudging both Fives in the direction of healthier coping mechanisms/getting them to go to therapy, that sort of thing

Vanya is a firm believer in both therapy and setting an example so she probably gently encourages the whole family to find someone to talk to and holding up setting an example to the Fives as an excuse to get her whole family into much needed therapy is very helpful

and young Five ABSOLUTELY brings out the childish side in old Five, mainly because old five actually genuinely has No Fucking Idea how adults function and while he physically grew up, his social growth was very stunted by the,, how do i put this,,, lack of Anyone Existing Around Him For Forty Years so he has like?? vague ideas of how grown up people function but not a whole lot

like his primary example of Being An Adult are a) Reginald, an eccentric billionaire who didn’t work outside of abusing children like that was his job and b) the Handler who has no concept of personal space and frequently insinuates she’s going to kill him

and THEN,, when he actually achieves his goal and gets back to his family he gets a wonderful assortment of:

Luther, who lived on the moon for four years with no social interaction. Has never owned property or held down a job. Has he ever done taxes? Has he voted in an election? Does he even have a license?

Diego, who lives in a boiler room at the back of a gym and fights crime as a vigilante in his spare time after flunking out of the police academy. Has anger issues and an obsession with knives.

Allison, the movie star whose personal life is a fucking WRECK and is going through a brutal child custody case after she mind controlled her child on multiple occasions. 

Klaus, who in general is just a wreck of a human being who has no occupation that I know of and is frequently in and out of rehab. Also homeless and overdoses on a seemingly regular basis if the nonchalant-ness with the paramedic says anything on that.

Ben, who is dead and invisible to them but who likely died before reaching adulthood anyway so.

Vanya, who has managed to hold down a job and home but has no social life to speak of and taste in men bad enough to literally end the world if given the chance. Seething with anger and resentment that has been bottled down and doesn’t know how to deal with her own emotions (though that was mostly Reggie’s fault tbh)

but as you can see there is not one single human adult in the Fives lives that is even in the ballpark of healthy normal adult role model.

I got away from myself but my point is that Five doesn’t know how adults act and baby Five is capable of prodding Five into joining his shenanigans partially because of this fact and partially because Five just genuinely wants to have fun sometimes

and if, occasionally, the duo pretend to be one another so that Five has an excuse for acting as childish as his genuinely teen counterpart then, well,,, who can tell them apart anyway? and it’s in the name of the game and confusing their siblings so there

I have plenty of feelings about the double trouble au goodness gracious

#double trouble au #far tua long #the umbrella academy #tua #this is the au where thirteen year old five shows up a few days after they stop the apocalypse and everyone has to deal with that #five hargreeves #number five #i'll add more tags tomorrow i'm tired and it's midnight