#that can house can be rebuilt but its such hard work. that house can be remade but not alone

[caffeinatedopossum]

Self love

People tell me to love myself but what does that even mean? I'm not even sure what the self is but I've been digging and searching and rearranging the letters in my name, trying to find something that's really me for 20 years.

I've tried to identify with my pain, the things I love, the things about me that aren't normal and the things about me that are, I've tried to identify with my painful and angry body but I'm never really there, in any of those things.

It's like telling me to admire my skin when there's nothing but scar tissue left- I don't hate it for being scarred but it isn't skin and its painful to the touch. How can I love a thing that hurts? I can't even remember this abstract concept of "me" that I'm supposed to love. I'm looking for him and fearing he will never come back.

I've tried identifying with my choices but what does that say about me? Am I my motivations, the actions, or the results? I'm never sure those are good things. I've hurt people with my choices before and yes, I've learned from those things and yes, I consider them mistakes so maybe my motivations are good.

But I don't have many choices to make and I never have. It makes me feel powerless, small in an existential way. I don't particularly want to be powerful, I just want to exist. I hate that my choices have been taken from me. I will find my power if it kills me. I will find myself someday.

#i feel like im digging through the wreckage of a house #and people are telling me i should love that house #that loving it will put it back together #but they dont understand #that can house can be rebuilt but its such hard work. that house can be remade but not alone #that house can be recreated but it will never be the same house #ill make something i love out of this wreckage #but i will never be able to love again what ive already lost #that hurts so much #its a type of mourning that ive never known how to feel before #and im scared that once i rebuild that house it wont be something i live #that ill be in there all alone #that the house i once loved and felt safe in will become a prison i cant escape #i cant love this house because its gone and its not been rebuilt yet and i cant do it how i am now #all i can do is sit alone in the rubble and debris and mourn the power and safety and security and self that i dont have #all i can do is be mad at myself for not being able to fix it alone or be mad at the people who cant help me #either way it doesnt do much good to be mad about it does it #if it cant be helped... it cant be helped

[k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl-wr1t1ng]

Junkyard Love

(based vaguely on a conversation with @virtualgirladv)

You’ve always loved the scrapyard. The perfect graveyard of parts. The beauty of twisted metal and plastic. The towering walls of robotic corpses, most old chassis's thrown away after an upgrade, others, less fortunate. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve rebuilt yourself in a place like this, but today you’re not here for yourself.

You have most of this place mapped out by now, after decades of sifting you developed a general understanding of where certain parts tended to pile up. Today that system is really paying off as you speed through the narrow pathways between the monoliths of scrap surrounding you. Bursting into the sunlight of an open part of the yard, your optical sensors slowly adjust to the sudden increase in brightness. You look up, eyes wide as you stare at the mountain of corpses before you.

This is where they keep the newest arrivals, and the least likely to have been picked through. Not great for finding specific parts but perfect if you’re searching for something valuable. You know exactly what you’re here for but it's rare and you’re desperate, you don't care how long it takes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been hours, hours sitting under the sun combing through corpses, searching each of them for any parts not taken before they were disposed of. You’ve been through dozens so far, most of them the generic sleek form most people go for, the occasional decommissioned war bot and exotic chassis. You don't have the time to admire the work as you quickly check each one for what you need.  You can feel the heat bearing down on you, the darker parts of your chassis reaching dangerous temps. You can't help but let your mind wander as you continue to search, the oppressive heat sparking memories deep in your hard drives. Decades old memories pouring to the surface, it's been years since you thought about her. She built you in a place like this, she's part of the reason you know your way around here so well. A bittersweet smile crosses your face-plate. Her body is buried under one of these steel monuments. She was only flesh, but she always loved this place and you couldn't bear to see her moved.

You’re interrupted from your trip down memory lane when something catches your eye, across from you in a discarded chassis you haven't searched yet you spot something familiar, the obvious shape of an intact containment unit. You scramble across the metallic forms below you as you frantically grab hold of the unit, turning it rapidly in your hands, searching for any signs of damage. Having confirmed its integrity you don't hesitate, sliding down the mess of empty shells towards your goal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You practically tear the door out of its frame as you come rushing home, slamming your way through the house.

“Babe, I'm back!” You yell through the small apartment.

Darting into the bedroom excitedly, you glance around for a second, sensors still adjusting to the dark room. Across the room you spot her, splayed across your full-sized bed, her bulky form taking up most of the small bed, exposed wiring delicately laying across her beautiful steel body. Her chassis was an ancient design, old and primitive. You cant help but smile at her as she sleeps. She adores her design and wouldn't change it for the world, even if she could. You giggle gently as you carefully cross the room towards her, you love the way her chassis lays in your bed, the subtle whirr of her fans, the way her bulky armour sinks into the mattress, her face plate dimly lit as she rests, the screen simply displaying a sleeping emoticon.

Climbing onto the bed, you crawl your way onto her beautifully heavy form, straddling her hips as you gently press your weight into hers. Her monitor slowly lighting up as she awakens, the confused emote slowly growing excited. You feel her servos and motors kick up as she attempts to sit up into your arms, wincing as she does.

“Hey now, careful, love” you purr, placing a metallic hand on her chest with a clink.

“Bad pain day?” you gently enquire.

A small nod and frustrated sigh escape her speakers, her servos disengaging along with a defeated flash across her screen.

“I’ve got a surprise for you~” you blurt out, unable to contain your excitement.

Before she can respond you reveal the containment unit previously concealed behind your back, a look of recognition flashing on her screen. Her fans increasing speed as she looks into your eyes.

“W-where did you ev-” she stammers out before you cut her off.

“Don't worry about it, bot” you say quickly, trying to ease her worries. “I know it wont help with the pain...or much else unfortunately but...I was hoping it might help you just feel a little better.”

You pause, waiting for a reaction before continuing but she just waits patiently for you to explain.

“I know you cant get a new body…no-not that you would want to but just like, I don't know I thought maybe it would feel nice to get a shiny new...well kinda new...part ya know?” you ramble out, worried you’ve made a mistake.

Panicking at the lack of reaction you start to sit up. You fucked up, you need to get off and give her space, you need to do... something. But before you can escape, her entire body slams into yours, strong arms wrapping themselves around your form, heavy combat armour pressing hard against your sleek, simple chassis.

A small sound escapes her speakers, now pressed up against you. “T-thank you…”

You chuckle to yourself, you’re an idiot, of course you didn't fuck up, how could you with this amazing girlfriend? You gently lay her back down on the bed, careful not to cause too much movement through her system. A smirk curling across your lips.

“Want me to install it now?” you whisper in her ear.

A small whimper escapes her frame as she nods, embarrassed.

“Good girl” you whisper again before sitting upright.

You waste no time, quickly setting the unit down on the bed next to you before opening a small compartment in your abdomen. Pulling out all the tools you need and placing them on her chassis, watching her squirm as you do. You run your fingers under the thick plates covering her chest, fingers gliding until *click* a latch gives way and the armour is released from its seating. Gently lifting it from its position and placing it on the bed next to you, grabbing your tools and carefully reaching inside, stopping briefly at the breach, looking for consent to continue. A slow nod grants you access. You slowly begin unscrewing panels, removing the softer, thinner metal beneath her armour. As you expose more and more of her inner workings you notice her screen changing to a more crimson colour. You adore the way she blushes. She’d never let anyone else remove her armour, let alone get this deep in her internals. You smile at that thought.

*click*

The final piece of metal covering her small nuclear reactor is removed, you can finally begin work on replacing its containment unit. The technology is perfectly safe, with so many fail safes and precautions in place she could do anything in here and nothing would go wrong, but with an old and damaged unit it can limit ones ability to draw energy. You really hope this new one will help. With a small flick and bump you disconnect the old unit, watching as your girlfriends emotes go all fuzzy and warm, the lack of containment making her mind all blurry and hazy. Moving the new unit into place you try to be careful, which is only made more difficult but the squirms and shudders of the robot beneath you. Reaching out with your free hand you place it gently around her neck.

“Be still for me baby, I’m almost done, then we can take it for a spin, ok?” You speak with a hint of command in your tone.

Instantly her body goes still, obeying your every word as her emotes begin to blur into a blushing, whimpering mess. Finally you start to fit the unit into place around her reactor, her heart. Your tongue sticking out as you focus on the final pieces clicking into place, her fans speeding up as you have to put more of your arm into her body to complete the installation. Having everything where it needs to be you lock it into place, and begin to remove your hand before you hear a desperate whimper escape from the bot your currently deep inside.

“What’s that? Does pretty bot want more?” you say, a dangerous smile curling up your face plate.

A moan escapes her speakers, her screen glitching slightly before a desperate “Pleaaaase” finds its way out.

Without needing to hear any more you dive down to meet her body with yours, planting your cold synthetic lips on her screen, playing with her emote with your tongue. You feel the heat rushing into her system as her fans begin blasting warm air into the room, you feel her servos and motors desperately squirming under you, she could easily throw you across the room if she wanted, but she’s too high on your touch to ever try. You wrap your hands around some wires inside her chest, gently stroking them with your thumb, ever so slightly threatening to yank them out. You smile into her screen as she trembles under you, her whole body vibrating as you moan into her chassis.

“Fuck.” Her voice jolts through you, sending shivers down your spine.

You know she’s close, desperate for you to overload her system. Reaching your free hand down between her legs, you feel her cold smooth metal as you begin to rub her, fingers moving fast and rough as you try to push her body over the edge. You watch as her screen begins to glitch more and more, her entire system overloading with power as you stroke her internal wires. Her moaning becomes choked, her movements more erratic and desperate, her hand reaches up to hold your arm as her entire screen turns blue, an error message sprawled across it as her body goes limp beneath you.

You smile gently, looking down at the bulky, semi armoured form below you. It’ll take a few moments before her system is able to boot herself back up, so you get to work quickly, replacing her chassis, screwing parts back together as you close her chest back up and finally click her armoured plate back into place.

You lay yourself down, planting your head onto the bots chest. Holding her tight, you listen to her system slowly begin to power back up, and you smile to yourself.

You’ve always loved the scrapyard.

~~~

If you wanna support me - Ko-fi

#amity's writing #smut #robots #chronic pain #lovey dovey

[hometoursandotherstuff]

First, I apologize to all renters, but mostly those in New York City. This is the story of a beautiful Bavarian fairytale town, the world’s oldest housing complex, where the rent is still less than a $1 yr.  Almost everything is the same as it was when it opened 500 years ago, including the annual rent. Welcome to “the Fuggerei.”

Located in the city of Augsburg, Germany, residents of the Fuggerei pay next to nothing for a lovely home. So, what’s the catch?  In exchange for an annual rent of 88 cents, you must be an Augsburg resident for at least 2 years, be struggling to make ends meet, yet be debt-free, and prove your Catholic faith.

Residents are also required to pray 3 times a day and do some part-time volunteer work in the community, such as gardening, to keep the place nice.

The gates to this walled enclave close at 10pm every night, so if you want to step out after a hard day’s praying, no problem- just give the nightguard a small tip, and a swig of whatever you’re drinking.  

The rules may seem old fashioned, but that’s because they’re so old.

Compared to the paperwork, credit checks and hoops you have to jump through to get a landlord to accept your earnings in return for a dingy little apt. in some cities, this is a breeze.

So what’s the story behind this 16th century subsidized housing community that lives on its own terms? For some context into it, let’s meet the Fuggers.

Jakob Fugger, aka Jakob the Rich, a banker, opened his purse, to those in need.

The Fugger family was a dynasty of German bankers, nobility and merchants, who controlled much of the European economy in the 16th century and owned   land in and around Augsburg.

Devout Catholic Jakob the Rich had a social conscience. He founded and donated the Fuggerei to the city in 1521, on the condition that he would make the rules, and it would stay that way forever. By 1523, 52 houses had been built with a church, squares, fountains and more streets on the way.

The Fugger empire crumbled over the next 150 years, but luckily for Augsburg’s needy, the legacy lives on.

Even after WWII bombings heavily damaged Augsburg and the Fuggerei, it was rebuilt to its original style and even expanded to 67 houses with 147 apartments.

The Fuggerei was a stress-free safe haven for many war widows and struggling tradespeople to set up home and even shop on the grounds.

Today, all houses and apartments are occupied except one, that serves as a museum, reminding visitors of the importance of dignified and affordable social housing.

All profit from the museum goes back into maintaining the community.

The entrance fee is 6.50 €, which is over 7 times the yearly rent, and visitors have their own entry gate, for minimal disruption.

Of course, it has a long waiting list, with enquiries from folks far and wide who want to get in on the free weekly communal breakfasts. You could end up waiting up to 7 years to make it through the gates of this German fairytale town. (Actually, you wait longer here, for some apts.)

Except for a portrait of Jakob Fugger which hangs in all 147 apartments, the homes come unfurnished so residents can put their own stamp on the place.

Each identical apartment has an elaborate doorbell, uniquely shaped so residents could feel their way and identify their door in the dark, before the installation of streetlights. I guess social housing doesn’t have to be a broken system. 

https://www.messynessychic.com/2021/02/23/rent-is-still-1-a-year-at-the-worlds-oldest-and-most-beautiful-social-housing-project/

#housing germany #$.88 yr. rent #social housing #long post #subsidized housing

[itsuki-minamy]

"SIDE GOLD"

CHAPTER 4: IKU AND THE BIRIBIRI GROUP (Part 1)

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Anno

"Homeless". A child who does not have parents or guardians and who has not settled. In Japan during World War II, there were many war orphans who lost family members in war fires and their homes burned down. Among them, most of the children who lost their place to go became homeless drifters. During and after the war, their lives were extremely difficult and many of them became involved in criminal activities.

The "Kagirohi Trade Association" market was bustling as if the commotion from a few days ago had been forgotten. On that isolated vacant lot, the "Yakumo" gambling hall is being rebuilt under the leadership of Tamataro Okuma.

"Bastards, I'll finish it before opening time!"

A loud cry that made even the thick billboards that were up tremble.

Although it is called a rebuild, it is not a complete creation. As long as there is enough space for people to gather, such as a game room, the deal is done. It was a random hasty construction to build a house that was as small as a shack. The new "Yakumo", which no one remembers what generation it is, has already completed the frame and is in the process of installing the roof and walls.

"I understand, big brother Okuma!"

"Thanks to the boss and sister, I am used to erecting pillars and thatched roofs!"

"Don't say that, if they listen to you, you'll have to start over."

Rude, hard-working people are inefficient and unpredictable despite their good humor, but their environment is cheerful. The reason why many of them don't feel terrified when witnessing mysterious monsters is because they feel comfortable living from day to day, and more than anything, they trust their boss, who has declared that he will defeat them next time.

From the ceiling to the front of the wall, work voices flew.

"Are the blue clothes still keeping watch in front of Yokocho's gate?"

"Ah, they still go back and forth with Danbira in hand."

According to what they heard from the older sister of the blues, the monster appeared because the powerful boss and the guy in the blue hat collided. So it seems that it will probably be safe if both sides back down after sharing the pain. As explained, the boss, who had turned off due to various incidents, simply withdrew, and the blue hat also turned its back and left. At the moment, it seemed unlikely that the blues would go in or out, or even encounter the monster. It seemed that peace had arrived.

Each person had a different way of perceiving such results.

"Heh, even though the monster has been quiet ever since, they've had difficulties every day."

"You better be careful. I'm sure you feel the same way about blue clothes."

"What? In front of you, you are not afraid, are you?"

"Oh? What is it?"

Not satisfied with the exchange of voices, he rolled up his sleeves and pressed their foreheads against each other.

"Who is scared... Ouch?!"

"Nga?!"

Okuma's fists attacked in quick succession. Blocking the sunlight with their thick bodies, the two of them crouched in the shade with their heads in their hands, and a loud voice fell over them.

"Move your hands instead of your mouth, layabouts."

"Hehe!"

"Sorry!"

Okuma looked at the two people who were scattered, and then looked at all the work.

(It should be back to normal before today's opening.)

After thinking about it, he felt a stab in his throat like a small bone.

(I wonder if it will really go back to normal.)

It's not just about conflicts with monsters and the blue clothes.

Okuma wasn't amused the fact that some kinds of "King" or imposed good manners are getting in the way with straightforward gait of his proud boss.

In the neighborhood where the sound of work can be heard, there is a Suwako canteen. This whimsical restaurant (the only sign is "meshi") has a reputation for being cheap and filling, but the taste is average. It is also known as the place where Unno Yutaka stays when his usual hideout, Yakumo, is destroyed, and is seen from the outside as one of Kagirohi-gumi's strategic bases.

Actually, it was just a place where Suwako let him eat free food and Unno would lie down in a small room in the back. For the former, it was an important space where they could recover the relationship they had when they met. But to the latter, that is unknown thing because he hadn't even hinted at it, let alone talked about it.

Now it's Suwako's turn to feed him free food. In the middle of the small shop, Unno is stuffing his mouth with okara sushi at the counter. As the name suggests, it is a dish that cannot be said to be a dish that only puts ingredients on a piece of okara, but it is a specialty of this restaurant.

The side that is allowed to eat is hated and slaps him in the mouth.

"Only the topping has improved."

* Okara Zushi; a type of sushi that used Okara(soy pulp) instead of rice, with topping a fish marinated in vinegar. It is local food in Chugoku-Shikoku region.

"Shut up and eat, you bastard."

The usual show of cutting rebukes from the feed side.

It was supposed to be usual for Suwako to rest her chin on the counter and look at the stubborn Unno, but since that night, she felt a bit strange.

"Yutaka-chan."

"What?"

With his mouth open, Unno replied.

Suwako lifted her chin and used the courage she had built up over the course of several days to ask.

"Are you ok?"

"......"

Unno munched his okara sushi in silence. Secretly thinking...

(I wonder if it came out on the complexion, it's gross.)

He still hasn't resolved his feelings about meeting another "King".

Of course he wasn't intimidated. It was uncomfortable knowing that the anger and desires that were supposed to be him were embedded in something else. Besides, not being able to sort out his feeling like that was very unpleasant. With holding such a stone weight, he couldn't laugh optimistically, or stop thinking and run.

Ignoring all of that, he might have been able to become stronger.

However, when he ate at that restaurant, he felt a little less competitive.

That's why the answer wasn't clear.

"How is?"

"Yutaka-chan, aside from me, that sort of thing... were you aware that there are some really cool psychics out there?"

Suwako isn't afraid to reach Unno's core when they are alone in this restaurant.

Unno also responded to Suwako, who did so as honestly as possible.

"As for the guy with the blue hat and Ootono-nii-san, I didn't know until I met them. But the other person..."

"Um, the monster with the gapped teeth?"

"No."

After a brief denial, Unno paused to put his feelings into words.

"I've felt many times that somewhere far away... well, deep..., there's a guy reaching into the river and trying to catch the current."

There was something that came to Suwako's mind.

"Even if that's the case, the guy with the blue hat said something like that when we parted ways..."

"......"

Unno didn't even hide his displeasure from her and remained silent.

After dismissing Thomas Colt, just before Kagiro-higumi and the Fourth Legal Affairs Bureau withdrew, the guy in the blue hat (the husband), the Blue King, pretended to make a casual postscript and offered some history.

"This is a test, but are you willing to meet the "Golden King" Daikaku Kokujoji?"

And of course Unno... "No."

He just returned a word over his back as he walked away.

(That's right, I can't stand doing what that bastard says.)

Thinking of that, Unno reached for the okara sushi again and saw that Suwako's face was filled with anxiety. Its meaning was easy to understand. Or rather, the kind he himself had.

There is something big that you don't understand.

It was the feeling of existence beyond the words "Slate" and "King" that Nazumi said.

It was a terrifying power that haunted him, that if he could feel it and touch it, it would be irreversible.

That's why Suwako is afraid from the bottom of her heart of him.

For Unno to meet the "Golden King".

Being carried away by something big and mysterious.

That's why Unno said it clearly.

"I do not go anywhere."

"Yes."

Suwako's face, who answered in a low voice, turned pale and bright.

Unno felt embarrassed by the situation and tossed the pickled okara sushi into his mouth. As he muttered and chewed, he opened a mouth again with hatred.

"You're not good at grabbing at all."

But he will never say that he like the taste. So that Suwako can see his feelings in his smile. Of course, the answer is short.

"Noisy bastard."

++++++++++

Daikaku Kokujoji, the "Golden King" who normally refrains from going out, sometimes makes exceptions.

That was the meeting with the president of the ruling party, who was escorted by him and "Tokijikuin", and this time it was a special trip. The destination is a villa in the suburbs owned by the governor.

In a large site in the mountains, it is commonly called "Oyashiki" witlessly. In part, it was a signal to avoid telling details, including the owner.

In a simple but elegant Japanese-style room facing the courtyard, the two faced each other over celebratory dinner with sake.

Kokujoji was wearing a suit and was sitting up straight like a statue.

The president was dressed in a kimono and sat loosely crosswise. That wasn't because he was arrogant, but because he received a gunshot wound from a thug during his time as a diplomat before the war, and couldn't sit on his knees for long periods of time.

The president said in a calm voice that he didn't seem like a tough face.

"I heard about that, Kokujoji-kun."

"Hah, it seems that he is the "Seventh Person". As a result of discussions with Director Nazumi, we have decided to call him "Colorless" for the time being."

Kokujoji responded with a mild explanation, but that is not the issue the president wanted to bring to the table. For him, "Slate" and "King" were things to talk about next to reality.

"I see."

After slightly nodding, the original topic was brought up.

"By the way, it seems that Nanakamado's work unit was present at that time."

"...That's how it is."

Kokujoji, who guessed, felt ashamed of his immaturity for misreading the focus.

Only the "King" and his empowered ministers could perceive the strangeness of the unexpected "Seventh" as an imminent threat. For ordinary people, it was natural that they had little knowledge or interest.

(At this rate, the way forward will be in jeopardy... study up and take heart.)

In today's reality, in other words, what is important to the president is the "political significance of Nanakamado, an intelligence agency, using force at his own trial.

"I heard, that they even fought a street battle against the "demon" in question."

"Fourth Legal Affairs Bureau arrived just in time and we were able to contain the turmoil within one area of the market. The workforce has also managed to capture almost everyone."

"A person seems to be sent back to them."

"Hah, an American commander. Director Nazumi will probably serve as a check or a warning to Nanakamado, but it will have little effect."

As expected, Kokujoji was surprised by the accuracy of the information he was given, even when he communicated without hesitation. In just a few days, from what source did he get the information? He has been swimming through the turbulent political world for nothing, and has reached the post of president. Kokujoji was impressed by his speech technique, which didn't make the other feel hard.

(This is the "Gold" that he himself have prepared and polished...)

The president is not a servant of "Tokijikuin", nor is he attracted to any talent.

Or rather, Kokujoji had yet to add to his vassals a single politician who had become his sympathizer. This is a measure to ensure that "Tokijikuin" gets involved in the political world from the point of view of a collaborator.

That "Slate", like it or not, creates a side to rule and a side to be ruled. Furthermore, instead of "mentally and physically acknowledging'' social status and biological abilities, it "gives structure to the functions of kings and ministers."

The EX-α individual and the β individual are not the same at all.

There was a huge difference in the functions and overall power of the two.

The problem is not how do they feel that, is the fact as that is.

In a post-war society where distrust and hatred of authority burn, and, moreover, in the ideal democracy that Headquarters tries to establish, this "structure" placed under others provokes resentment or even more indignation. Of course, it would be even more so if someone with high social status, such as a key politician or the head of a conglomerate, couldn't always get the talent he wanted.

The reason why Kokujoji keeps his former subordinates as comrades-in-arms and dedicates himself to behind-the-scenes work is to make them seem like a powerful but closed small professional group. (It is also based on the same reasoning that Nazumi established the "Fourth Legal Affairs Bureau'' as a department with a legal foundation.) Even if they were wrong, they should not have been made to think of themselves as beings privileged above people... as the "transcendent ruling race" that the German Third Reich dreamed of.

Still, ever since "Tokijikuin" rose to prominence despite being behind the scenes, sharp-nosed politicians, ex-servicemen, surviving liberal activist, and even charlatans of the like have contacted Kokujoji to become his vassals. There have been many attempts, even more cases of faster attacks and kidnappings to seize power from the "Slate" or "King".

Humans are creatures that greedily seek power.

Especially now, when society is full of gaps and opportunities.

These realities made Kokujoji well aware of the dangers of hastily introducing the deadly drug "King", which was in the midst of trial and error, now in post-war, here in Japan.

Therefore, while sympathizing with the regime, they did not merge, and while showing their intentions, they did not issue orders... This position was firmly held by the "Golden King" Daikaku Kokujoji and "Tokijikuin". And it was precisely because he continued to stand his ground that he was able to gain the trust of the political world.

At this time, he can even have a secret face-to-face conversation with the president of the ruling party, who is not even his vassal.

"I see."

The president gave a slight nod again and casually filled the cup with sake.

"I agree with you."

Kokujoji did the same and filled his own sake cup.

"What is the trial material?"

"Although it has some privileges and power, it still feels like an intelligence agency running too wild. I tried looking in various directions to see if there was a backup behind it."

After half, the president wiped his cup at once, perhaps to moisten his throat or to make a decision, began to speak in a calm voice to Kokujoji who was waiting for his words.

"They frequently communicate with Atsugi."

"Atsugi?"

Kokujoji felt suspicious.

In the city of Atsugi, Kanagawa Prefecture, there is a large airfield for the occupation forces requisitioned from the former Japanese army. Immediately after the war, many squadrons were deployed, but by the end of 1948, it had become a supply base for the occupation forces in the Kanto region, and no military forces were stationed there.

"That place is under the jurisdiction of none other than the Headquarters, and even if you say Occupation Army, it is just logistical support..."

As he answered, Kokujoji thought of something strange.

In Atsugi, there is a large-scale facility that doesn't look like a supply base.

It was a "radar site" radio detection facility for the detection of sword-shaped "Schwert" Kouki, which the occupation forces hastily set up for fear of a mass uprising by the Japanese people in response to the "Chofu Incident".

In reality, this facility was useless. He ended up showing that all the sword-shaped "Schwert" Kouki that appeared after Red, Blue, Green, and Gray did not show any reaction to the radar. The reason why the facility still stands is due to both the practical aspect that is useful for air traffic control of the Occupation Forces, and the psychological aspect that is a symbol of confrontation with the unknown.

Kokujoji had investigated these items as being related to the "King" of him, but from the conversation with the president, he suddenly began to worry about a certain item. Slowly he spoke.

"If I remember correctly, the electrical probes placed there were under the jurisdiction of the United States Department of Defense, not the Occupation Forces. Engineers sent from the country of origin are also managing maintenance."

"Yes. That is very important."

The president nodded three times like a professor giving a passing grade.

"It appears to have been removed from the Defense Department's Advanced Research Projects Agency "ARPA" in response to a request from Headquarters to send in the latest state-of-the-art equipment. It is the people there who are in charge of maintenance."

After a pause, his calm voice turned heavy and low.

"Officially, most of them were reorganized last year, and they are the intelligence officers of their home country."

Kokujoji was surprised and accidentally put down the cup.

"......! Are they from the CIA?"

In the era of its predecessor, the Strategic Intelligence Agency "OSS" (although it was only three years ago), the Central Intelligence Agency "CIA" began to fight with the Headquarters over the advance of their base of operations in Japan. a destiny whose activity was sealed.

Since then, the Commander-in-Chief, Admiral General, dislikes "rogue spies", and has not tried to interfere with Japan. It was supposed to be, but it was only on the surface.

His undiminished anti-communist sense of mission and desire to expand his power secretly spread the roots of the conspiracy to Atsugi's neighborhood, or even to Nanakamado's throat.

(Nazumi also reported that Nanakamado was "exporting" psychics for anti-communist spy warfare... certainly, the recipient could be no one other than the CIA.)

Kokujoji finally found the reason of unusually bullish attitude of Nanakamado.

"So Nanakamado is trying to survive after our country regains its sovereignty by communicating with the CIA in the United States and cooperating in the re-advancement?"

"Nanakamado's intentions are probably like this."

And then the president spoke calmly about the core of the crisis.

"The nature of this matter is much bigger and deeper. Most worrisome is that the Pentagon is involved in the camouflage operation. There is only one person in the world with power that can make them allies of the CIA."

"......!"

Kokujoji guessed with a shudder, but didn't mention the title.

With the president's understanding, he added the most alarming information he had collected.

"The Department of Defense is sending a light aircraft carrier to and from Yokosuka under the pretext of carrying materials to Atsugi. Half a year has passed. It seems that the overbuilt ships from the previous war are being used as transport ships."

The tone of voice that he did not believe on the surface of the information was the meaning of the information.

"When we bring in materials, we line up the cars to watch the roads where there are no attackers. For some reason, most of these staff members are Japanese. What do you think of this situation?"

"The convoy... is probably practicing marching along the way, disembarking and deploying to military installations."

Kokujoji first thought of a former soldier and then of a "King".

"Japanese pretending to be guards are believed to be people with 'exported' skills in the past."

"In other words, the CIA is preparing a unit of talented people in our country, separate from Nanakamado."

"The reason they are using the Japanese is that they are doing everything they can for the local powers, and they are sure to get rid of them."

The president was calm, Kokujoji was strict.

"Hm, it's a way of doing things, similar to an intelligence agency."

"Nanakamado's original plan was to secure a piece that would guarantee the superiority of Headquarters, in other words, to secure our "King"... or perhaps make him cooperate."

After a calm exchange without changing the tone of theirs voices...

"However, they, who should have sent out the elite soldiers, were completely defeated by the "King" and were not able to get his cooperation. Even so, there is another goal in daring to use a unit of talented people."

"If it's the second best measures, they won't hit the same enemy twice... then,"

After sharing and researching, checking and analyzing, the two of them naturally came to a solution.

Even with that conviction...

"The next best thing is a sudden armed rebellion..."

The president involuntarily smiled wryly at the eccentricity of the resulting solution.

"It's like a coup before the war."

"It doesn't matter if it's successful or not, the goal itself is to create a riot in Tokyo. It would be nice if it could be used as a basis for criticizing the Occupation Army's current occupational rule, especially its ability to maintain public order."

Kokujoji was able to see through the brutal fashion of the time, where politics was intertwined with conspiracies and tyranny.

The president also calmly pursues the dangers affecting Japan's national fortune.

"The continental United States is participating in this operation to strike a blow at Headquarters which is too arbitrary. The overall goal is to create an excuse to reduce the excessive authority given to Headquarters and push Japan back into an anti-communist bulwark."

The old politician smiled wrinkled when he realized that all the cards were in his hand.

"I see, it's a nice photo."

With a smile on his face, he became furious.

"But I won't forgive them."

"Yes."

Kokujoji is also short and sharp and he agreed.

An air of tension filled the air between the two of them.

Kokujoji was the one who moved the fastest and stood up without panicking.

"Please leave me your phone. I will urgently take countermeasures with the Fourth Legal Affairs Bureau."

"No, I'm the one who will call to."

The president, who took the thought of him one step further as a politician, stopped him. He explains before asking.

"An armed rebellion is different from a popular uprising that can only be stopped by dissipating the accumulated heat. It is an operation based on a political plan. Furthermore, both the initiative and the execution come from the intelligence agencies."

"Eh?"

Kokujoji, who couldn't understand the meaning of his explanation, took the form of an attentive listener.

The president admonished the young man who thinks he is fit about the dynamics of politics.

"In other words, if it turns out that he can't carry out his plan, it's the kind of thing that loses the foundation of the rebellion and puts an end to it."

"Do you have a measure to prevent the outbreak in the first place instead of suppressing it?"

"It's not as difficult as calling it a measure."

His smile, still filled with rage, glowed with murderous political maneuver.

"However, by making a proposal with the above reasoning, we can take away the bases to activate it."

"Proposal... what, where?"

The president, showed his "gold" to Kokujoji.

"Dismantle the intelligence agency, Nanakamado, to the commanding general of the occupation forces."

Saying so, he clapped his hands to call the butler.

In fact, a phone call was not enough. As soon as an appointment for negotiations was made at the Dai-ichi Seimei building in Yurakucho, Tokyo, where the general headquarters are located, the president returned to Tokyo in a safe driving car.

"Until I'm gone, give the quarterback time to reflect. A phone call is a message that says 'I'm going to make a proposal like this'', and it's a grace period to make a decision. I am a gentle man, so I will go home at a slow pace."

That's what it looked like.

Kokujoji did not accompany him, but according to the guards who were sent in his place, the negotiations in the commanding officer's office were completed in a very short time.

Then the next day at noon.

Immediately, Kokujoji received two notices. The first was a document from the Department of Public Health and Human Services containing the Directive of the Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces (SCAP Index Number, or SCAPIN), as recommended by the Governor.

As written...

"Notice: 1. There is no intelligence agency under the Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces, Headquarters, which controls the Japanese people by any special means. 2. The Research Institute for Infectious Disease Control (at the Nanakamado City) will be decommissioned and withdrawn as of tomorrow in accordance with the achievement of its intended objectives. 3. Tasks 2 will be handled by the Metropolitan Police Reserve, US Army 1st Cavalry Division and the US Army's 97th Infantry Division."

It made no sense even to those who didn't know the circumstances, and it was extremely harsh for those who did.

In summary...

Nanakamado will be dismantled after its existence is officially denied.

The research institute where has been their base of operations will also be demolished, leaving no trace.

Not only the police but also the Occupation Army will be involved in the implementation.

That's what it meant.

You could see the marshal's anger as much as the president's, if not more.

(Not unreasonable.)

Kokujoji thought.

The United States has just forced Headquarters to change its policy of rebuilding Japan as an ideal democratic nation. It would be strange not to get angry if he knew that a conspiracy aimed at further reducing the authority of Headquarters was afoot at a time when the humiliation had not cooled. (As for the marshal personally, after the crushing defeat in the presidential election half a year ago, he was deeply involved in rebuilding Japan.)

The fact that the negotiations with the governor were brief also shows the extent of his anger.

Driven by ambition, the Nanakamado intelligence agency faced the end of punishment.

Regardless of what they thought, they were just an unofficial branch of the Occupation Forces, with all the authority given by the Headquarters. As long as their authority is revoked before the uprising, the intelligence agencies' ability to carry out their actions... in other words, the ability to force their way through the outside world will be gone, with one exception.

And due to the dissolution of the organization guided by the Japanese side, the troops prepared in Atsugi lost sight of the reason and the opportunity to move. If an armed rebellion is a political plot by an intelligence agency, it will be even more difficult to move lightly in uncertain circumstances. The prepared combat power became useless.

Above all, this order is also a signal to confront the home country that "Japanese Headquarters and the Japanese government have become aware of the plot". The situation has already moved to a phase where both parties are playing bargaining both implicitly and explicitly. Whether the result is a restoration of relations or an escalation of conflict, the turn of active force will not come for the moment.

The political apocalypse is coincidentally decisive.

Nanakamado's future was completely closed.

However, they are left with one more option that will not lead them into the future.

An act that is nothing more than a sterile and perverse struggle.

The option was to use the existing force to explode.

If they thought about it with calculations and reasoning, it was almost impossible to take such an action. There was no longer any prospect of reversing the situation, no matter how they used the forces they had, they could not expect the support of the CIA, and the credibility of the Headquarters had eroded.

Yet even so, for humans... especially for an organization that is entrenched in only one direction, impossible behavior often becomes a last hope. If violence is the only card left, the illusion is stronger.

In case Nanakamado did turn out to be like this, Headquarters prepared a second copy, a document from the Second General Staff Department (intelligence agency representative).

According to the document...

"Notice: 1. Request the Fourth Legal Affairs Bureau to supervise the dismantling and removal work of the Research Institute for Infectious Disease Control (in Nanakamado City). 2. The commands and orders for dealing with people with capacity to induce and maintain anomalous phenomena will be in charge of the director of the same office, and not of the National Public Safety Commission. 3. All responsibility for actions in accordance with the notification falls on this headquarters."

It was an official dispatch request to confront the psychics organization directly from the Occupation Forces Headquarters.

In other words...

"Fourth Legal Affairs Bureau" will be in charge of responding to the outbursts of people with capabilities.

They would not care about the higher ranking organization and would act according to the judgment of the Chief, Somei Nazumi.

Whatever happens, the Occupation Forces Headquarters will take responsibility.

That's what it meant.

This precedent will determine the position of the organization, such as the nature of the duties carried out by the Legislative Office of Legal Affairs, its superiority over other police organizations, and the maintenance of an independent chain of command.

Anyway, everything was ready.

Calling out will be tomorrow.

There was no time for political maneuvering.

Even setting up a counterattack would be dangerous.

The Metropolitan Police Reserve Corps (predecessor of the Metropolitan Riot Police) and the Occupation Army will be in charge of dismantling and removing the facility, and if a person with capabilities moves, the "Fourth Legal Affairs Office" will delete it. Atsugi's forces are politically neutralized and there is no threat of intervention.

"Everything, no omissions."

The president said by phone during the preliminary consultation.

Kokujoji thought so too, and actually responded in agreement.

But...

(Is that really so?)

Somewhere, he had the feeling that something was issuing a strong warning. Assuming it was the "Golden King's" intuition, he didn't know where or what made him feel that way.

If he dared to raise a concern, it would be the matter of "Colorless King", but if it weren't for the huge power clash between the "Kings", it should be nothing more than a threat from a street passerby.

Even if Nanakamado mobilizes all the remaining ability users and challenges in a battle, he doesn't think they'll be able to develop a fierce battle that would make "Blue King" Somei Nazumi manifest "Schwert" above his head.

(Someday, the power of the other "Kings" will have to unite to deal with the "Colorless", and they will have to take it seriously... but, in the morrow, there should be no curtain for that to happen.)

Faced with a fate that has yet to be understood, Kokujoji had no choice but to confirm the current situation.

The president will take measures to control the situation, the marshal will make the difficult decisions, and the "Blue King" will take over the actual work... these measures are being carried out without delay and without fail.

The situation was supposed to proceed as planned.

There is nothing to worry about, it is fair and safe.

Both the era and history march orderly on the basis of reason and rationality.

Until the arrival of the "King" of change, who destroys and disturbs all those inevitabilities.

The last day of December 1948.

A long day for everyone, the first difficult step of regeneration is approaching.

#k #k project #k side gold #kokujoji daikaku #unno yutaka #somei nazumi #todokoro suwako #Tsunogui Iku

[expressingexperience]

A Sacrifice

a short story about a girl's struggle with her family's religion. tw for violence

I sit in the church pews; the smell of pine oil overwhelms my senses, and my attempts at prayer are quickly stifled. Though I’ve always struggled with the concept. My sister—has never struggled. I watch from here every Sunday as she sits pretty with the choir board. She is a beautiful girl, a beautiful singer. I envision myself in her place, feeling accepted like she does. I keep my head bowed, trying not to think selfishly when I pray. My eyes are closed so tightly that I see static. My pleas to the Lord have gone ignored for as long as I can remember. However, my sister says I am blessed in ways I can’t yet understand. She’s always saying just the right thing, doing just the right thing. She carries her Bible with her almost everywhere; though it’s pristine, you can tell she’s had it for years. Each page is filled with color-coded sticky notes. She tries to teach me, but it never works. Her interpretations of the word feel like gilded lies. I open my eyes to the wooden details, the tall ceilings with ornate decals. My eyes are pulled to that colorful stained-glass display of Jesus with his wounded head resting on his shoulder. The magnificence of this building can’t be denied, nor can the faith that carried so many to build this church. I yearn for that faith. Yearn for a sign that my sister and everyone else are right. That there is more to these teachings than violence and pain.

Though I feel no comfort during service, the empty church has always brought me solace. Its beauty makes me want to believe. All the people who would soon fill this building are consumed by the word of God, so engrossed in only his gospel that it affects their every action, thought, and manner. I wish to relinquish myself to him in that way. I consider how hard it is for my family to have me, the doubting sinner, always going against the grain whenever the chance presents itself. I won’t say I make it easy for them. A primary tenet of Christianity is to follow the flock. Denying it is to exile yourself. I stand up and walk to the podium, imagining myself as our priest. Celibate and forever chained to the Lord. He seems happy, up here preaching to us all. He shakes everyone’s hands at the end of service and smiles big, toothy smiles that make me wince. I put myself in his shoes to be a leader and a voice for the Lord. To have Him speak to you constantly, sometimes I believe I hear Him. I tell my sister what I hear; she gives me a look she always has to reset, a look of disgust and fear before she tells me to ask for clarity.

Standing on the stage, looking down at the empty pews, fills me with a swirling sense of power and pride. The seat I previously occupied quickly blends with the rows and rows before me. There is a mightiness in this position, a feeling I wish to memorialize for all the coming disciples. I have felt connected to some stories from the Bible. The ones centered around power and anger and greed and lust showed me in his image. All the sins that boil inside me like a teapot ready to shatter. I've related to Cain and Judas, and the betrayals they’ve taken have rebuilt the congregation tenfold. Making each believer stronger and more resilient in their belief. I feel myself begin to shake from the thought of my next actions. Eyeing the gas canister I left by my seat, I pull a lighter from my pocket. This glorious building made to house devotion and love will soon catch my flame and incinerate me with its artful architecture. This is what the Lord has asked of me. A sacrifice. Hellfire in His sanctuary for all eyes to gaze upon. Gasoline invades my nostrils, and I accept it graciously. Deeply inhaling my actions while I listen to the spillage. Our message will be that much more powerful when my charred body is found melded in the evidence of undying faith.

#mine #short story #writing #writers on tumblr #fiction #religion #drama #tragedy #writeblr #writerscommunity

[bridgyrose]

One hundred and twelve days. It had been one hundred and twelve days since Penny had been rebuilt after her death at Beacon, every day filled with training to keep her from falling once again. Every day became a new challenge. A different grimm to fight that was caught from the tundra, missions to clear out caves and tunnels that the grimm like to rest in, all in an attempt to hone her skills. 

“Penny Polendina.” 

Penny jumped up as she heard her name being called by General Ironwood, saluting him as she looked up at him. “Yes, General?” 

Ironwood looked her over before motioning her to follow him. “Its time for your test.” 

Penny gave a quiet nod as she followed him, running the protocols that she normally did for each training session. She gave a little skip as she tested the thrusters in her boots, pleased that they were still working as needed. Her swords started to make their way out of her back as she tested their movement again, putting them away once she confirmed everything was working. Thrusters: on standby, weapons: ready, power levels: ninety percent, plenty of time before her next recharge was needed. Ready for anything she was going to be put up against. 

Or atleast, she thought she was. Penny nearly froze as she laid eyes on Amity Arena, memories flooding in when she felt the wires of her swords wrap around her. She put her hand on her arm, nearly squeezing it like she had seen Ruby do to calm herself in a panic attack before closing her eyes and purging the memories of her death. They were unnecessary. Distractions that would keep her from doing everything she needed to be the protector of Atlas. 

“I know it wasnt that long ago that you were here and killed,” Ironwood started as he led her down to the arena floor. “But this will be your final test to prove that you’re ready to defend Atlas. You wont have to worry about grimm or any of the training bots that Specialist Schnee liked to put you up against. Instead, we’ll consider this… target practice.” 

“I am not sure I understand,” Penny said as she followed Ironwood down to the bottom of the arena, looking around at the rebuilt stands. She could remember where everyone was sitting that day, how Ruby was there one moment and then gone the next, that Weiss and Blake had chosen to skip out to go around the festival grounds, Yang being on house arrest until the end of the tournament. Her fingers twitched as she held onto each memory, trying to focus on everything in front of her. “If I am not fighting grimm, then what will be my targets?” 

“Images of those who you’re supposed to protect Atlas from. I’ll give you a few minutes to prepare before we start.” 

Penny nodded as she watched General Ironwood make his way up to the control room, closing her eyes as she tried to focus on the task at hand. All she had to do was destroy the targets that appear, prove she can be the protector of Atlas. Defeat the targets, become the protector of Atlas. 

The arena started to awaken and Penny opened her eyes as she watched the floor open up and hard light platforms started to appear. Then, she saw the targets as the appeared: small disks with the faces of past enemies of Atlas. It only took a moment for her to start tracking them as they moved around with the platforms, powering up her thrusters as she took to the air. With a blast of energy, she shot at the first target, releasing a shower of sparks. Then, she shot at the next target, running through the sparks that came from the targets. Her vision faltered for a moment as she landed on one of the platforms, losing track of the targets. 

“Dont falter now, Penny,” Ironwood said through the speaker system. “Only a few more targets.” 

Penny nodded as her vision started to clear up and she was able to start tracking the targets again. She rushed through, slicing through the rest of the targets as showers of sparks fell over her, only one thing in mind: to become a weapon for Atlas. As she sliced through the last target, she felt her body start to power down and her thrusters give out, finally powering down as she slammed onto the arena floor. 

“Penny?” Pietro asked. “Are you awake now?” 

Penny slowly woke up as her body powered back on, memories a haze of data filled with holes. “Did… did I pass the general’s test?” 

Pietro smiled, almost relieved that Penny was awake. “Yes, you did. Though you took a bit of a beating to go through whatever he wanted you for.” 

Penny looked over herself, patches of her synthetic skin singed along with a few patches missing from her landing. She moved her arm, hearing the joints grind. “I-I remember powering down and falling..” her eyes went blank as she tried to remember, unable to recall much beyond the desire to be a weapon, a protector for Atlas at the General’s disposal. “It must have been classified. I… I can not remember.” 

“I’ll repair the damage, and then you can go see the General. Mentioned something about an airship not responding with the right landing codes.” 

Penny nodded and closed her eyes to put herself into standby mode until her repairs were completed. She’d need to be in her best condition to protect Atlas, and if an airship made it through the blockade, then Atlas would need its weapon to keep it safe.

#rwby #penny polendina #james ironwood #pietro polendina #repurposed au

[emperorsfoot]

Dragon Ball GT fic I will never write

Someone went through my blog today and reblogged a bunch of my old Dragon Ball posts and its got me remembering that I once had an idea to do a long fic series taking place after Dragon Ball GT.

That's right, GT. I didn't like the series, but I did really like parts of it.

Does anyone remember the ending?

Not the 100 years flash forward with Goku Jr. and Vegeta Jr. that was the "epilogue". I mean the Ending, when Goku got on Shenlong's back and they disappeared and the Dragon Balls disappeared with them.

Goku's wish was to bring everyone who died back to life; and that's exactly what happened: everyone who died as a result of the evil dragons came back to life (plus Kuririn who was killed by Super 17).

BUT THAT'S IT!

The people came back to life, but the cities weren't rebuilt, the land wasn't repaired. All the people who just came back to life didn't have homes to live in, the livestock that died wasn't revived, the farmlands weren't repaired.

How did Goku expect the people he just brought back to life to survive?

Goku doesn't have to think about that because Goku vanished with the dragon.

Its everyone else who has to deal with it.

Bulma, Gohan, 18, Kuririn, Yamcha, Vegeta, Trunks, Goten, Pan, Roshi, etc. (I'm not gonna list everyone). They're the ones who now have to figure out how to house, feed, and provide healthcare for the population Goku just revived.

Also-!

(My favorite scene) Remember Vegeta's very well done trauma scene during the final battle? When he was -literally- crying over watching his second home being destroyed. Earth will still need champions and Goku just went poof.

But Goku never taught anyone the Kaio Ken and Genki Dama, the two moves that consistently save the Earth every time, or the Instant Transmission which is arguably Goku's most useful technique. How is anyone supposed to defend the Earth when they no longer have their champion or the means for a new champion to rise to the occasion?

Anyway, my fic idea:

The first part was going to be a "team building" fic of Vegeta going around collecting all the next gen characters

Trunks

Bra

Goten

Uub

Pan

(he tried really hard to get Gohan but Gohan insists that he could do more to help in his capacity as a scholar/doctor/scientist/whatever Chi-chi made him major in, and rebuilt Earth's infrastructure.)

Marron volunteers but she's fully human and isn't the reincarnation of any kind of powerful djinn like Uub, so Vegeta turns her away (and maybe he calls her useless).

So, Gohan and Bulma was working on rebuilding Earth, Vegeta is being a tyrannical task master trying to train most of the kids, and Marron goes to Master Roshi and convinces him to train her in the Kame Style exactly how he trained Goku. Marron wears the turtle shell, she delivers milk, (I forget what else Roshi had them do in Dragon Ball, but Marron does it).

Bulma and Gohan are making great progress rebuilding society. Marron is advancing quickly in her Kame training and is confident and happy. Meanwhile, all the other kids are miserable under Vegeta's strict drills.

Some character development and plot happens, but basically, they realize that they need a "Kuririn" in their group.

They need a human who may or may not be very useful in the actual battles, but never the less never gives up, has a healthy relationship with fear and understands mortality, and is still willing to sacrifice themself if it means saving others.

Marron, even though she was rejected from being a member of their champion group still continued to train independently from them. She'll never be as powerful as the Saiyans or Uub, but its not about power for her, its about doing what she can. She understands her own mortality and has a healthy relationship with fear, but still wants to help in whatever capacity she can.

Marron is their Kuririn.

Vegeta doesn't fully get this concept even if he recognizes that its necessary. He's also too proud to admit that the team might benefit from having Marron after he rejected her the first time.

Trunks is the one goes to Kame House and invites Marron to join the team.

That was gonna be the end of part 1.

Part 2 was gonna be centered around the techniques that Goku never taught to anyone else even though he had plenty of opportunity to teach them to Gohan in the Room of Spirit and Time in Z, or Trunks and Pan during GT.

Vegeta has Bulma build another space ship and sends the kids on a mission to the same planet Goku crashed on after the destruction of Namek to learn the Instant Transmission technique from the original people who taught it to Goku in the first place.

While they're off planet, Vegeta tries to work with the remaining Z Senshi to try and engineer their own version of the Ginki Dama. They all have experience lending their power to Goku to form it, Vegeta was almost killed by it, and Kuririn has actually held and thrown it before. They all have first hand experience (albeit from different angles) with the technique. Vegeta's hope is to have a workable version of it ready to teach to the kids by the time they get back.

(also, there was gonna be a TruMar subplot)

#dragon ball gt #dragon ball z #trunks #marron #trumar #bra #bulla #uub #pan #goten #gohan #bulma #vegeta #vegebul #dbz #dbgt #renkonnairu #fan fiction

[1tsjusty0u]

another quastion. how does zelda feel about the castle. pre and post calamity. have people gone into the castle after the calamity and could she sense them/how does her telepathy work/what can she see if anything

HM!!!

ok so. this had me rethink a Lot about my zelda because. trying to tie her into the story and/or give her thematically relevant motives/problems is Specifically Hard with the theme i chose (if you can even call it a theme). and also i had to go over what she would actually think in her situation and it. not really tying into how she thought of it beforehand. im still going over it honestly and canon botw makes this so much harder why did they Do That…. this especially complicates her father and hers relationship at least from normal fandom standards but at the very least i can deal with that

castle time ok!!! pre cal its mostly just her house. one that has stupid rules sometimes but otherwise shes doing pretty great!!! the sheikah tech are extremely abundant near the castle, both seen in the memories (including the champions dlc memory) but also makes sense given where the sheikah tech was buried to begin with. her relationship with her father gets. More Strained as time goes on. to be clear he does care for her and the whole reason he bans her from the tech in a memory is so she can prove to everyone how she isnt a failure. the problem with that though is that he prohibits her only real solution to her powers, the one tangible thing that Can stop the calamity. id also feel like at he end of conversations he would ask about her training which could lead to arguments. shes still able to infodump things to him (only really more towards the beginning though), which he takes more to heart once hes dead. and he kind of has to unban her from the sheikah tech at one point, nearing the calamitys arrival. it leads to a Hell of an argument from both of them because he Wants to keep her banned or grounded more than ever before, but well. circumstances have changed. but back on topic castle wise everythings chill. most of the knights or soldiers cant go into the castle having like. 2 rooms where they are allowed, and the guards are just like maids and such to her. theyre there and they dont intrude Too Much. gestures to the post she doesnt want to Not be a princess she doesnt want to be a Failure of a princess, and the castle doesnt really remind her much of that. her room might..? but theres no signs to that when you go into it when its broken and such. there isnt even a goddess statue in there. so. yeah! i may add that? BUT ANYWAYS.

post cal!!! mixed feelings. on one hand? Anger. anger that the calamity revived There, angry that it came early when she was so close, angry that the payoff she hoped for never came and she had to do all of that only for the castle to get destroyed and 100 years to pass and her friends to die. she doesnt think she did it for nothing, but shes Close to thinking that just by proxy of how events happened. she needs to go in there eventually to retrieve Her Stuff (plushies, printed photos that werent taken by purah, diagrams, books etc) and it just. messes a bit with her how everything is destroyed and how the grass and trees are all dead from malice and guardians. if she rebuilt the monarchy she’d likely leave the old castle in ruins, building another one in a different location, leaving the old one as a monument of sorts to What Happened. she wouldnt view everything as her or links failure she’d just view it as a stupid stupid moment that didnt have to happen but did anyways. especially because she Has Her Powers Now. she got to the springs she has her powers shes a Princess. she didnt fail at what she was supposed to do, its just her monarchy is a failure rather than her if that makes sense??????????? she has no place to Be a princess after she spent so long trying to be one. an ending that wasnt worth it. so the castle is generally unpleasant to be around. shes upset about everything being destroyed but also pretty mad about it. she keeps it there more to hurt herself than anything else. she thinks its a reminder and in part it is its just not a useful reminder of any kind . not to say the monarchy was good mind you just the circumstances in which it got destroyed, Especially For Her, werent great!

people have gone into the castle after the calamity!! or at least before link wakes up but during when zelda is still fending ganon off. that mostly aligns with canon surprisingly as npcs can tell you how they Used to be able to get into the castle for gear but now theres monsters all over the place. i think that ganons malice was still there and the cocoon was also still there he just was less actively fending off the castle because there was no need. priorities 🔥🔥🔥. i..! think she could sense them, but not really realize it was them for lack of a better word. like she knew someone was in the castle but she either was A not able to focus on it too much or at all or B could focus on it but had no idea What It Was. like it couldve just been a feeling when someone was in the castle but she’d have no idea thats what that feeling came from if that makes sense. once link wakes up shes able to focus on other things more outwardly but still focuses more on ganon. her telepathy i think works based on ganon and sheikah tech alerts :] like for example theres apparently a control unit for the towers underneath the castle. if ganon was using that accidentally then zelda would also have a tie to that just by proxy of being eaten by him. its like. she could visually see or audibly hear something change, and that goes for when the divine beasts yell when you come near them and she warns you of them if you havent talked to impa or when ganon yells when you come to the castle. she was able to wake you up to do the shrine of resurrection letting out an alert of some kind. how it works or even if its connected to the castle at all i dont know though. maybe a hivemind or a message system like the divine beasts? where the shr actually the shrine of resurrection Is Technically a divine beast so it could absolutely have a messaging/alert system. how it gets to the castle i have no idea. either the castle is also a divine beast or theres a main control unit under there. or the alerts from the SoR get broadcasted across the main tech that needs it, though i dont know why theyd do that… but the tower is more straightforward thats connected to the castle. the five minutes after playing she just has no idea what links doing and tells him to head there out of necessity . the divine beasts yells are just Loud and more loud to her specifically because ganon has a hand in that. ganon yelling is self explanatory. how shes able to talk to link telepathically to begin with ? no clue. it probably has something to do with whatever her powers are or how zeldas of the past were able to use telepathy, but its more likely just a result of her powers. i think she more or less found out via ganon though. either he can also do that or she just. kind of Had To after being eaten.

for what she sees….! thats tough. i saw a comic once that had zelda be able to see through hylia statues, which is cool however thats kind of bogging her down to being hylia 2.0 which. she isnt. and also considering her Issues with hylia i almost feels mean. she Could be able to see through the divine beasts possibly ? whether im doing that is up for debate though. Though it could make for some accidental horror? like having a divine beast constantly Facing Your Direction no matter how far away you are, or when its moving in a circle it suddenly just doesnt turn and either stands and stares at you or goes towards your direction. horrifying and i dont think zelda would be able to do that (more looking through them rather than controlling them) but i like divine beast horror. anyways considering the divine beasts have consciousness? i dont know if she’d be able to. do that. like hijack it just to see whats happening

inside ganon she can actually see things.! not from the outside mind you but its not just pitch black. whether its a different world, pure malice, just sheikah tech, is up to debate. or up to how i design it honestly i need to figure . that out. but yeag. i shall draw it once i have an idea of it

also please note how she feels about the castle is . Subject To Change. i feel like a conspiracy theorist trying to make her work here. but for now!!!!! yeah!!!!!! im going to try to expand her when i expand the champions. or when i decide how the relationships are going to work and what works better . 👍

#wreath of the bild #HI. THIS WAS TOUGHER THAN IT SHOULDVE BEEN

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 815

McCoy

His chest was tight with held back anger. A glance at Spock showed the Vulcan’s distaste with Scotty’s aunt and uncle as well. For Scotty. He would get through this for Scotty.

“How do ye take it Leonard?” Iona asked as she sat back down.

His eyes drifted to the door as the young girl who had brought the tray in came hurrying back with a tea towel.

“Two sugars please,” he answered in his most polite voice.

Iona dropped the two cubes in a cup before lifting the pot to pour the tea. She gave a contemptuous look at the young girl, then looked up at Spock.

“Spock was it? How would you like yours?”

“As is ma’am,” he said, leaning forward to take his cup from her. “Thank you.”

McCoy kept a smile to himself knowing the plain Earl Grey was very different from the spiced Vulcan teas Spock usually drank.

“I must say, I thought Dad would be coming with you,” Malcolm said after they were all sipping their cups. “How is he? He never calls.”

McCoy felt Scotty tense next to him again.

“He’s doing well. He’s been working hard to get the house rebuilt.”

“And it’s done?” Iona asked.

“Yes. They finished in time for Mum’s birthday.”

“Oh! So quickly,” Iona exclaimed.

“He shouldn’t be doing so much at his age,” Malcolm frowned.

“Granddad is as spry as any of us,” McCoy smiled.

A brief look of surprise passed between the older pair at McCoy calling Alasdair ‘Granddad.’

“Our grandparents are all gone,” McCoy said, with just a hint of sadness edging into his voice. “It’s wonderful to have Granddad in our lives.”

Iona looked at Malcolm again and McCoy noticed the briefest of nods.

“Is it really true about your sister and our Robert?” she asked, leaning in.

“Is what true?” McCoy asked innocently. He felt the twitch next to him as Scotty held back a laugh.

“That- that they’re a pair as well,” Malcolm completed for his wife.

“Oh that,” McCoy laughed lightly. “Yes, they’re much more private than we are.”

“And it’s serious?” Iona asked.

McCoy nodded eagerly. “Oh quite. They’re very good for each other.”

“Well then, maybe we’ll still get asked to attend a royal wedding then,” Malcolm said with only a slight bite to his words.

McCoy’s smile curled tighter. Scotty moved on the couch next to him and he could see the color rising in his fiancé’s face. McCoy set his free hand on Scotty’s leg and gave a pat.

“That was part of why we wanted to visit. Not just to see if you had pictures you could share, but to visit everyone who we weren’t able to invite.” McCoy gave his best sympathetic smile. “I’ve never liked being in the spotlight and Scotty doesn’t either. Now that I’m not our heir I can step back some. It’s a relief!”

“Oh,” Iona said, sounding unconvinced.

“To just have a small intimate ceremony is more than I ever imagined,” McCoy continued. He let a wistfulness come into his voice. “I always thought I’d be stuck with someone I barely knew in a wedding the size of a small country.” He laughed. “Now Leah will be the one who has to deal with that, and she will handle it much better than I could.” He looked over at Spock, who nodded his agreement.

“Her highness is very capable.”

Malcolm and Iona shared another quiet look.

“And how is your mum with all of this?” Iona asked Scotty.

“She’s very happy,” Scotty said, giving a slight glance at McCoy. The prince found Scotty’s hand and entwined their fingers. “She has had so much to handle this year, but David and Eleanor have been a wonderful help. They’ve all become good friends.”

McCoy held in his own chuckle. He knew how awkward it still was for Scotty to call the royal couple by their names, but for once they just rolled off his tongue.

Tea ran its course with mild pleasantries, but McCoy couldn’t wait to be done and he knew Scotty felt the same. The slight disdain from the older pair was hard to ignore, but if McCoy played up his royal heritage, well, they had it coming.

“I suppose we should get those albums gathered and brought for you,” Malcolm said, setting down his teacup.

“Oh no, please,” McCoy said. He set down his own teacup and began to stand. “If you’d just show us where, it would be no hassle.”

“We couldn’t- you’re a prince,” Malcolm protested.

“I don’t mind,” McCoy said brightly. “It would save you getting dust tracked everywhere.”

“Yes…, I suppose,” Iona said slowly.

“Teresa can show you the way,” Malcolm said reluctantly, calling again for the young girl who had served them.

Part 816

Scotty

He was very glad when Teresa showed them the way out of the living room and to the attic. Scotty wanted nothing more than get away from his aunt and uncle and he could sense that Leonard and Spock felt the same.

A part of the tension relieved as soon as the three were all to themselves, standing between lots of boxes.

The attic was quite big and Scotty really had hope that they would find some pictures or other mementos. If only they knew where to search for them.

"You okay, leannan?"

The Scotsman turned around when he felt Leonard's hand on his shoulder and he nodded slowly.

"Aye. It's just... a lot. Being here. Having to see Malcolm and Iona," he whispered. It was quite stressful for Scotty. And he hated to suppress his anger.

"They appear to be quite impolite towards their staff," Spock said and Scotty rolled his eyes.

"Ye tell me. They have always been like this. That poor lass."

Anyone who had to work for the pair deserved Scotty's full sympathy.

"Maybe we should offer her a job at our palace," Leonard mused quietly and Scotty smiled softly.

"Aye, that'd be nice. Maybe ye should offer *everyone* working here a job. Nobody deserves to be treated this way."

"I'll think of something," Leonard replied with a wink, then he looked around, "but first we have to go through these."

Scotty sighed heavily, before he nodded in agreement.

"Aye... let's go."

He was glad that both Leonard and Spock knew what his father had looked like. After all, they had both seen the pictures when they had stayed at the Scott's place the last summer. They knew what they were searching for.

It took them some time until they found a box with lots of photo albums. As they all sat down and searched through them, Scotty couldn't help but feel nostalgic. Back when they were wee lads, Robbie and him had often snuck up to the attic to go through the old stuff of their parents. It had always been fun.

"This is your father, isn't it?"

At hearing Spock's voice, Scotty quickly leaned over to look at the album the Vulcan was holding in his hands.

He stared at the open page and a smile formed on his lips.

"Aye, it is. That's my dad with his siblings when they were younger."

Scotty took the album from Spock and pointed at the people shown in the picture.

"This is dad. Here's Malcolm and this is Ronan, the youngest son. Ye'll meet him when we're done here."

Even though Scotty wasn't looking forward to it.

He flipped through the pages and found another picture.

"Oh, and this is Aunt Harriet. She's the youngest of them all."

They all continued to look through the albums and eventually Leonard found another one.

"Look! It's your dad and Francine. Their wedding. And... aww, look who we have here."

The prince pointed at a picture of a baby boy and a grin crossed his face.

"You were just so adorable," he chuckled and Scotty blushed heavily at the picture of him.

"Oh, and here's Robbie too!" Leonard's finger moved on to the next picture and he laughed at the image of Scotty and Robbie throwing sludge at each other. The picture had been taken at their house on the beach.

Scotty felt tears prick in his eyes and he quickly blinked them away. So many good memories of better times...

If only it could have stayed like that. If only the stupid accident hadn't happened.

When the Scotsman eventually lost the fight to his tears and started crying, he felt Leonard's arms quickly wrapping around him. And all he could do was lean into the embrace.

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds

[heartwithsilver]

Pluto in Aquarius in the 9th house

What happens when the Planet of passion, intensity, power, darkness, and possessiveness is working with the zodiac sign that loves reason, freedom, and transformation?

The sign of Aquarius and its rational side is just to leave behind, for the individual and especially for society. It's aggressive, because nobody wants to lose something. It's the sign of technology, because the other signs are so obsessive about their desires, being and doing the same thing every day. Aquarius learned to be free, to be more creative.

The 9th house is very similar to the sign of Sagittarius. The sign of Sagittarius is represented by the centaur with the bow and arrow, man and the animal body, the rational and the savage. And the arrow has only one direction, going only forward. There is no right or left for an arrow. It is the sign that represents faith and beliefs. With the rational and wild side that takes the sign to distant paths. It is not the belief and faith of the sign of Pisces, it is not the belief and faith about the deepest side of human beings, the mysteries kept within it, and somewhat hidden in illusion, fear, and confusion. The 9th house and its beliefs are about expanding horizons. It's going to new horizons. The sign of Aquarius moving through the 9th house brings transformations and changes in transportation. The creativity to make changes to roads, ships, cars, bridges, ports, planes, trains, passports, tourism, new laws for foreigners, changes in immigration laws, even travel equipment. Colleges and libraries transformations too, changes, innovations. With the technologies that Aquarius makes, there is more technology in roads, ships, cars, bridges, ports, planes, trains, passports, tourism for example. With the social and collective side of Aquarius, it can bring more collectivity, groups, teams, and more freedom. The 9th house is a good representation for universities and colleges for natural expansion and exploration. A new belief and creativity that students can show in the classroom. Perhaps the rules that limited better education for students will be broken. College can become a battleground with the intense changes Pluto wants to make. The world at peace does not exist with the dark action of Pluto (I hope that US students understand what makes them suffer from school massacres and fight to change things. It's not just the government making money with guns. It's the politicians who like to see blood and chose a good argument to see it happen. And their story is about domestic violence, it's about racism, it's about being violent. If they wanted to defend you, the government had enough power to put more guards inside schools. Do they not have enough power to attack other countries? Wake up!). Colleges can change, be destroyed, rebuilt, and receive new equipment. With Aquarius technology, more technology in colleges and universities. If students hate the classroom and teachers, these are lucky years for them, because many teachers can understand that their talent in teaching can be done in a place that Aquarius created, the internet (And it's not hard to see that higher education is a failed institution. College students are very interested in asking Elon Musk about climate change, and asking serious questions of anyone who has a lot of money and has shown their financial success in podcast interviews). Not many teachers can leave colleges, but students too. If parents still want to choose their children's career, the news is not very positive for the next few years. Not with the most rebellious sign of the zodiac in the 9th house, the sign of Aquarius (It would be great for colleges to accept people who want to study and have skills. Not because mom and dad have money. But, we have some signs that care a lot about money and status, and that won't change). It is also positive that many teachers want to teach on the Internet, because intelligent people are needed on the Internet. The smartest students who enjoy studying will be creative when it comes to their teaching plans to study better. Colleges and universities can become a minefield with the intense changes that Pluto wants to make. The world at peace does not exist with the dark and intensity action of Pluto. This can cause some difficulties in learning. It's the interest in new cultures too. College is the best place for Aquarius, because it represents the collective, the rational, and independence beginning, but with Pluto and his intense energy, things can get a little out of control sometimes.

It is an interest in learning customs and habits from new cultures. Some changes and transformations, for example, in college exchanges to expand these 9th house beliefs. With the centaur's arrow hitting its target, the 9th house also represents the house of luck and positivism. Perhaps, it will be creating new luck games, or changing some things in these lucky games. Perhaps, some changes, innovations, and transformations for hunting, archeology, territories and other studies on the earth.

Curiosity: It is very possible that in the near future many things will be found on earth, places will be more explored. It is possible to happen by accident with just natural or planned action, but it is possible for it to be planned.

#Sagittarius #Aquarius #Pluto in Aquarius #House 9 #2024

[inatimate-icarus]

Untitled

This is a prologue to a funny little story idea that I've had roosting in my lil noggin. It's an original story that follows my character Atlas and the trials he goes through as a clairvoyant, in this world a majority of the population have funny little powers and they all live on funny little floating islands. Please give it a read and let me know your thoughts!

A deep rumble erupted from below as soon as the corpse hit the ground, long fissures appearing in its wake. It wasn’t clear when the harpy was shot down that this was a punishment, the divine were disappointed, angry that what they’ve worked so hard to create was destroyed so easily. They had blessed some with power that humans could only dream about, gifts from the divine. But humans feared them. Fear something that is different from them, they had created a corpse out of divine creation.

They reap what they sow, the seeds of change were planted and they were beginning to sprout. Massive territories were lifted from the ground and many people perished from the debris alone, others falling from great heights. A majority of the floating island population are people with those divine gifts, though there were some humans that remained, they were silent. 

Despite the seemingly random rise of the land, society rebuilt itself, people learned to adapt to living on the archipelago of floating islands. Though there were islands that began to prosper, there were a few that were unable to adapt, the lack of resources became overwhelming. There were often fights over material, or things as basic as food and water. Everyone saw their gifts as a means of survival, defense if their neighbors chose to turn against them.

The biggest island, Helius, has become somewhat of a capitol. Housing the busiest city and a majority of the population. Smaller islands, like Zephyrus, were almost like a ghost town. The island was further up and much colder than the rest, what little water the clouds provided froze almost immediately. Its people were getting desperate. Families had sent their children to scrounge for food, they were smaller, healthier, better suited for sneaking around to take food. Though it wasn’t uncommon to find small articles of clothing littering the gravel roads. 

Little hands can only carry so much and the prints in the freshly fallen snow had been a dead giveaway. Shouts from a much larger man could be heard through-out the entire town, everyone recognized his voice. Philip Shaw, the baker, blessed with monstrous strength. He wasn’t known for being the kindest to those outside of his own family, those that are caught stealing from him are better off in a capitol cell. “Clarke! Mark my words, boy! If I catch ya I’m going to wring yer’ lil’ neck for the whole town to see!” Atlas Clarke had just turned 8, his smaller frame hidden behind a large pillar not far from the enraged man. He struggled to hold his breath, the two loaves of bread stuffed in his jacket didn’t seem too worth it now, he and his parents could go a couple more days without.

In the midst of his own thoughts, another voice joined in the shouting, this time directed at the baker. Atlas recognized the voice, Annie, an orphan who often roamed the roads. Her family had died off some months ago, starvation forcing them to succumb to illness. She didn’t look that far off either, but she always spoke as if that was the least of her concerns. She had created and nursed a small garden, giving the harvest to those who she thought needed it the most. But she was born without a gift, which led to her being shunned by the rest of the villagers. Despite their aversion toward her she continued to smile and turn the other cheek. Atlas loved when she was around, her long hair; though messy and covered in dirt, reminded him of the sun.

Atlas peeked around the corner, curiosity getting the best of him, and how he wished he hadn’t looked. “He’s just a child! Don’t you have a heart?” Annie was significantly smaller than Philip, but she shouted with a strength much bigger than him. “I have kids of me own to look after, runts like you are the least of my concern.” He was fuming, he began walking in the direction of the small footprints, but Annie stood in his way. “‘re you in on it?” A large meaty finger pointed accusingly at her chest.. “So what if I was?” She spoke with such confidence that it was hard to believe that she wasn’t much older than Atlas. Philips nostrils flared, he bent down to get in her face. “Or was it you that stole from me?” He didn’t give her a moment to speak before he was lifting her by her hair. Atlas couldn’t look away, mortified as he watched her spit in his face. She clearly showed no remorse, in fact she smiled as if she wasn’t risking her life. “Bite me.” “You filthy rat. Figures, with no parents around ya ‘aven’t got the brains for yerself.” He wiped the saliva from his cheek, what little chance of survival Annie had was gone. Philips’ other hand engulfed her tiny neck easily and within seconds she was gasping for air. “I’ll show you and every little pest the price of stealin’ from me.” Atlas watched the life leave her eyes, something that will haunt him for as long as he lives.

A gunshot, two, and then silence. Both bodies collapse into the snow, the blood from Philip freezing as soon as it touched the frigid air.

Soon a group of guards had come to assess the situation, Atlas kept his hand over his mouth to keep the sobs from escaping. The suffocating atmosphere became too much and he ran back to his home, he placed the bread on the table and continued to remind himself the words his parents had told him, that this is the price for survival. He kept telling himself this until the stream of tears had stopped flowing. 

After news of Philip and Annie’s deaths had reached Helius, smaller islands soon got more help. They rebuilt the smaller rundown houses and gave everyone opportunities for work, children were no longer sent to search for food, but were sent to schools in bigger cities. Atlas stayed quiet, fearing the consequences of his actions. It wasn’t long after their blood was spilled that the visions started.

#original story #original character #new writer boost #fiction #modern fantasy

[detroit-grand-prix]

Wildest Dreams Chapter 2 - It’s Nice To Have A Friend

Chapter summary:  Phoebe ages out of karting and gets ready to compete in Formula Renault after having joined the Red Bull Racing driver academy. She turned Mercedes down, but she still managed to gain a mentor in Susie Wolff, another female driver who is currently one of Williams' test and development drivers. Even so, now that she's moved up to actual single-seater racing, a lot changes. More pressure, more expectations, more time away from home and school. Somehow, though, it’s fun.

Chapter word count:  3,435

Author’s note: I’ll put notes/references about each chapter here, because a lot of these took some research.

Anyway, the Schlossplatz is a big historical public square in Stuttgart, with a big palace that was rebuilt. There’s a Christmas market there every year. 

Phoebe competed in both the Formula Renault 2.0 Northern European Cup and the Eurocup series in the 2013 and 2014 seasons. The results/schedules for the actual races can be found here: 1 2 3 4

Previous Chapter

Stuttgart Mitte, Stuttgart, Baden-Württemberg, Germany March 14th, 2013

The next month passed quickly. Arrangements were made with Susie Wolff to meet her and her mother for lunch. Bee took the day off of school for it, and her mother took a few hours off of work. Susie suggested a restaurant in Stuttgart’s city center, near the Schlossplatz, that she said had good food.

Bee and her mother took the bus from their house in the Degerloch neighborhood to the Schlossplatz and walked to the restaurant from there - Josephine said it was easier than trying to find parking near the city center, even in the middle of the week, even though the bus ride would have taken twice as long as driving did. Either way, Bee was excited about going to the Schlossplatz - it was her favorite part of the city, with its wide open square and the gorgeous Neues Schloss. During the winter, she loved coming to the outdoor skating rink they set up here, and going to the Weihnachten during Christmas.

They found the restaurant, which was a German restaurant that served mostly tourists, which struck Bee as odd for some reason - it wasn’t as if Susie was a tourist, per se.

When Toto mentioned his wife being a professional racing driver, something clicked in Bee’s brain. She remembered going to DTM races when she was younger when there was a woman on the DTM grid named Susie Stoddart. The image of her was burned in Bee’s mind - a blonde woman that drove a car with a pink livery. It was hard not to notice one of the only female drivers driving a bright pink car, but she never stood out in Bee’s mind beyond that, as her results were never exceptional, at least when Bee still kept up with DTM. 

She and her mother stepped inside the restaurant (“Carl’s Brauhaus”) and Bee recognized Susie immediately. She still looked the same, more or less, as she did the last time Bee had seen her at the Hockenheim DTM race two years ago. Susie looked up from a menu and waved at them Bee and her mother stepped up to the host stand. She stood up and offered a handshake to Bee and her mother as they approached the table.

“Hello! I’m Susie Wolff, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. I’m Josephine, and this is my daughter, Phoebe.” Josephine put her hands on Bee’s shoulders, encouraging her to step forward, like she was shy. Bee thought it unnecessary - she wasn’t afraid of this woman, or anything.

Bee offered her hand, “You can call me Bee, though. Most people do.”

“So, Bee - ” Susie said as the three of them sat down. “From what I hear, you’re a pretty good racing driver, at least in karting. Toto has told me a lot about you. He said he really enjoyed meeting you.”

Bee blushed a little. “Thank you… I liked meeting him, too. I feel bad I ended up going with Red Bull, I hope he wasn’t upset.”

“He wasn’t, he understood your reasoning, but I think Niki - Niki Lauda, he’s managing the team with Toto - was a little confused. I told him that it’s different to be a woman in this sport, and people would find any reason to scrutinize you being in it. If you didn’t want to join Mercedes because your father works for the company, because Red Bull is better-established, and you had another option, that’s perfectly reasonable to me. Anyway -”

Susie picked up her menu. “I hope you don’t mind that I picked this place. I wouldn’t normally get something like all of this heavy Swabian food, but I haven’t been to Germany in a while, and I quite like the food in Stuttgart. Order whatever you’d like, this is on me.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, thank you.” Josephine said. She and Bee both perused the menu and a waiter came over to take their order.

Susie put in her order while Josephine told Bee what she wanted, to relay to the waiter in German. Susie looked at Bee with a puzzled expression.

“Sorry,” Josephine explained, noticing the way Susie was looking at her. “My German isn’t that great. I can get by, and I can read it better than I can speak it. Even after living here for ten years, I can’t seem to get a hang of it. Bee learned it in school when she was a kid, my husband - John - uses it at work every day, but I work for an American company that has an office here in Stuttgart, so everyone just speaks English. Sometimes Bee has to translate.”

Susie nodded. “It’s hard. When I started racing in DTM, I didn’t know any of it, but they told me I pretty much had to learn it if I wanted to stick around. Luckily, I was living in Switzerland then, so I picked it up quickly, but it’s all I was using every day.”

All three of the women chatted a bit about everything - how the Stallards came to live in Germany, Bee’s karting career, and school.

“So, let me get this straight - you live here in Germany, but you go to an American high school?” Susie said.

“Yes,” Bee said. “I went to a German primary school and then on to a Gymnasium, but I never really fit in that well, so I changed to the school on the army base last year.”

“Plus,” Josephine said, “For some reason, schools here in Baden-Württemberg have classes on some Saturdays, and that just didn’t work with Bee’s racing schedule. There’s so many weekends where we’re out of town for karting races that it just wouldn’t have worked if she’d gone to a German school.”

“And if I end up going to college, I’d like to go back to the US for it. So I don’t really need the Abitur, the diploma you get from going to a Gymnasium, but I’m still not sure if that’s what I want to do. If I can’t make it in racing, I will. But I’d like to be in racing for as long as I possibly can.” Bee said.

Susie looked at her thoughtfully.

“That brings up a good point - do you have any specific goal you’d like to achieve? How far do you want to go?”

“Well… I’d like to make it to F1 someday. I know it’s going to be hard. But… that’s my goal. If I can’t make it that far, I’ll figure things out. But… I just know that I want to race. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since I met Sebastian Vettel.”

“She went to the German Grand Prix in 2011,” Josephine interjected. “Her dad managed to get pit lane passes through work, so she met her favorite driver. Since then, all she’s wanted to do is become a racing driver.”

Susie smiled at her. “I felt the same way when I watched Jensen Button during a Formula 3 race my parents took me too. Racing was all I wanted to do after that. I think you can do it. It’s going to be difficult. It has been for me, but I think things are maybe starting to change."

Bee absolutely loved meeting Susie. They had a lot in common. Susie gave Bee her contact information and told her to call her any time she needed advice. They talked about her upcoming step up to Formula Renault. Bee had been fortunate enough to have landed a seat on a team and the sponsorship from Red Bull to compete in two series - Formula Renault 2.0 Northern European Cup series and the 2.0 Eurocup series.

She was surprised that it didn’t seem difficult to find a team willing to take her, but this was no doubt due to the influence of her coming with the sponsorship of the Red Bull academy. She’d also been lucky enough to end up with a German team, so she wouldn’t have to move away from home, like she’d known a lot of other drivers ended up having to, especially if they weren’t from Europe.

The next few months before the new racing season started in the spring were agonizing. Bee had effectively aged out of karting and hadn’t raced in months. She started working with a fitness trainer from Red Bull to try to put on some muscle, especially in her neck. There was also the PR and media training, and occasional trips to Milton Keynes in the UK to visit Red Bull Racing headquarters for meetings and events that she had to participate in. On top of that, with the arrangements she’d had to make with her school around her race schedule, she’d have to go to summer school to get ahead for the upcoming school year, as she’d be gone almost each weekend the following fall.

It wasn’t all dire. One of her trips to Milton Keynes for PR purposes was to finally get the race suit and helmet she’d been fitted for, and to have publicity photos taken for the Red Bull website. She could hardly believe it when she’d put the suit on and looked down at herself wearing it. It was magnificent. It fit her far better than any of her karting suits had, because she’d always had to buy ones made for boys - there just weren’t any options for girls, and it had been mostly fine until she’d hit puberty and began to develop. Her karting suits would always be too baggy in some places and too tight in others. This one had been made to measure, specifically for her.

She loved everything about it - the spectacular navy blue, the red and white stripes going up the side, the American flag embroidered at the belt with STALLARD next to it in white letters. She’d also been fitted for a helmet and a HANS device, which she found strangely comfortable. She had heard some drivers found the HANS restrictive, but she sort of liked the feel of it.

She almost didn’t want to take her racing gear off after the photoshoot and filming her introduction video was done. She admired herself in the mirror when she first tried it on, imagining herself on a Formula 1 podium, Sebastian Vettel standing on the second step, as they showered each other with champagne.

Bee made sure to keep in touch with Susie and Toto, and they were kind enough to invite her to visit when she had to be in the UK if they were home, because their home in the UK wasn’t very far away from Milton Keynes. It seemed that almost all of the motorsport people and teams she knew of all were around the same area of England, which made sense when she realized where the infamous Silverstone Circuit was. Bee had started feeling a bit of the pressure of the realities of being an up-and-coming racing driver, but being able to talk to Susie, who had been in her shoes before, helped quite a bit.

By the time testing time for her team came around, she was nervous about driving a proper single seater car instead of a kart for the first time. There wasn’t much to worry about, though, as she took to it like a duck to water. It was more enclosed than the kart, like climbing into a small bathtub, but she didn’t mind it so much. She had a naturally slight frame, so that helped. It almost felt kind of comfortable, despite having absolutely no room for her elbows, and the fact that she was sitting in a reclined position. It was a good thing she wasn't claustrophobic.

She also loved how it handled - also different to a kart, but in a good way. It took a few laps to get used to the feel, and the way she had to orient herself in the car, but she began to put in some very impressive lap times. By the time she was done, she had heard people whispering up and down the paddock about the “American girl” and her times. It felt like validation.

Finally, the actual racing season started. Her school year ended a little early due to the relatively brutal travel schedule she had coming up with competing concurrently in two series. It wasn’t uncommon - most of her gridmates would be competing in both. In her first month she’d be going to Italy and Spain, with trips to the UK for team business in between.

On one of these trips, she got to meet Sebastian Vettel at a team event. She had met him before, once, at the 2011 German Grand Prix. Her father took her for her birthday and through some stroke of good fortune, had obtained pit lane passes. He pulled some strings at work, apparently. But then, she was just a fan who happened to be in karting. He was incredibly kind to her then, but now she was his teammate, in a sense. She felt so nervous about it - where most girls her age had posters of One Direction on their walls, she had posters of Sebastian Vettel in his Red Bull gear. Her nerves were not helped because he’d since developed a bit of a reputation of being a bit cocky, but he was nothing but kind to her when they talked. They switched between English and German, which Bee thought was fun. Sebastian said that he remembered meeting her a few years back, and was happy to see she’d stuck with racing. He told her that he was excited that she was getting started in single-seaters, and said that he hoped she would be able to do well. They talked occasionally when they were both in Milton Keynes together, and in a few months, Seb ended up becoming a sort of friend. He always made sure to say hello to her whenever he saw her.

Her first race was at Monza. It was her first time in Italy. The idea of racing on such an old and venerated track made her a little nervous. It was the first race that she’d ever seen Sebastian win. Watching him win in Monza was the moment that Sebastian became Bee’s favorite driver. She’d seen it so many times on TV, she’d never imagined she’d actually race on it one day.

Practices weren’t so bad, but by the time she’d lined up on the grid for her first qualifying round, she could feel her heart pounding so hard that it felt like it was trying to escape her chest. Susie had given her some advice to close her eyes, take deep breaths, and try to visualize the racing line around the entire track, turn-by-turn, to distract herself from the nerves, and to make good use of the formation lap to try to settle into the pattern of the turns.

When it was time for the race to start, she felt better. After she started, her body almost felt like it was going through the motions automatically. It was delightful, and the result was delightful - she qualified in P7, which was entirely respectable for a rookie driver. She was the highest qualified rookie to boot. Both of her races that weekend made for equally respectable results - P8 in the first race, P4 in the second race - just shy of a podium. Even so, it felt incredible.

By the time she got home from Italy, she could barely keep up with all of the nice messages she got. Susie had called her the day after the race to congratulate her and tell her that her performance was impressive. The Detroit Free Press had run a small article about her, so she had calls from lots of family and family friends from Michigan.

As the season went on, she improved, and was pleased with her results. She learned to go on the attack and started developing a driving style that was characterized in a motorsport blog as “surprisingly aggressive”. It was fun to see those words in plain black-and-white. It felt like a challenge of sorts - like nobody had expected her to drive like a real driver because she was a girl. At first, hearing people doubted her was a little bothersome, but eventually, she just let them fuel her - she loved proving people wrong, after all.

She also, pleasantly, found it a lot easier to make friends with the other drivers than it had been in karting, at least, she thought. There was another American on her team for both series, a boy from New York named Ryan. She also liked talking to the British kids because they spoke the same language as her and she had now spent a considerable amount of time in the UK.

Her first season was more successful than she’d expected it to be. She had a handful of podiums, even starting on pole position once (which was, quite frankly, terrifying - it was her first experience being the hunted instead of the hunter). She hadn’t managed to get a win, but her team managed to win the Teams’ Championship by the end of the season in both series, which her respectable results contributed to. She loved racing more than she ever thought she could. She had the time of her life during every race weekend, even on the race where she'd had a retirement due to a suspension failure.

The next season was more of the same - the same thrill, the same impressive results. She did well - a handful of podiums, and three races where she’d started on pole.

Circuitio de Jerez, Jerez de la Frontera, Spain October 18th, 2015

By the time the second season ended, Bee was almost sad to be moving up into Formula 3. She really enjoyed the atmosphere of Formula Renault, and had a good relationship with everyone on her team. Before qualifying for her final race, her team principal almost made her cry by telling her how proud he was of her, and how he couldn’t wait to see where her career went. “I know you’ll go far.”, he told her as he pulled her into a tight hug before wishing her luck.

She had already signed to another team for Formula 3, because her team, Kaufmann racing, didn’t compete in F3.

Susie and Toto had also made it to her final race weekend, which was in Jerez, Spain. They sat in the grandstands with Bee's parents, despite the fact that they would easily be able to access the paddock - who wouldn't have known who they were? (As it was, Josephine had told Bee after-the-fact, the two of them being in the grandstands had caused quite a stir amongst people sitting near them.) Bee was surprised they’d come, but it was an off-weekend in the Formula 1 calendar and Susie said that she really wanted to see Bee’s last race in Formula Renault. They had established a tradition of doing an unofficial debrief on the phone after each race weekend - Bee felt that Susie’s input was invaluable, even though she wasn’t actually watching the races, but she’d watch videos of them. Bee was certain she wouldn’t have been as successful without Susie’s guidance.

Bee managed to close her Formula Renault career with a bang, with a second-place finish in her final race. An actual win had eluded her throughout her Formula Renault tenure, but at that moment, standing on the second step, spraying her gridmates with celebratory champagne, still sticky with sweat - it didn’t matter. She felt like she was on top of the world.

Toto and Susie took Bee and her parents out for a celebratory dinner after the race. Bee had a gift for Susie to thank her for all of her help in both seasons, but it was a bit large to bring to the restaurant in a subtle way. She stuffed it in her backpack anyway.

After they’d finished dinner, Bee spoke up.“Susie, I have something for you, just to thank you for all of your help these past two years. I don’t think it would have gone as well as it did without your help.”

She reached under the table where she’d stowed her backpack and unzipped it, producing her race helmet.

“I know it’s a Red Bull helmet, but I wanted you to have it. I remember Sebastian telling me once that he liked to exchange helmets with other drivers he liked and respected, so… I thought I’d give you mine from this year. I hope that someday I’ll be able to give you one of my Formula 1 helmets.”

“Oh, my goodness, Bee.” Susie said, accepting the helmet from her, setting it on the table, and pulling Bee into a hug. “I’m so proud of you. I’m sure you will someday, and I can’t wait.”

Josephine insisted on getting a picture of the two of them together, which Bee was a little embarrassed about, but she obliged anyway.

The next morning, while Bee was packing up her hotel room for the trip home, Bee’s grandmother called her and told her to check the website for the Detroit Free Press if she could.

“Why?”

“Just take a look! I think you’ll like it!”

Bee navigated to the paper’s site on her phone’s browser, and it took a second to realize what she was seeing. Where the front-page article is usually placed, there was a giant picture of herself on the podium, spraying her competitors during the victory celebration. She had an enormous smile, her dark hair was still tied into the French braided pigtails she’d always worn under her helmet, but the braids were a frizzy mess. She had her 2nd place podium hat on, and the picture featured blurry drops of champagne in the foreground, and the American flag illuminating an LED screen behind her. It was the kind of image you would see on a poster.

The caption read:

“Phoebe Stallard, 16, Sterling Heights native, celebrates on the podium for the 2014 Eurocup Formula Renault 2.0 series. Stallard placed second in the final race of the series at the Circuit of Jerez, Jerez de la Frontera, Spain. She will be competing in the European Formula 3 race series in the upcoming season.”

Next Chapter

#f1 fanfic #f1 oc fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #original character #female OC #toto wolff #susie wolff #sebastian vettel #my fanfic #series: wildest dreams

[venomroses]

hi oh my god plz tell us about the vaya vamos reunion fic

hiii bestie <3333

okay so i think they were really close as kids then as teenagers fought a lot and as young adults never really worked through all of that so it was mostly vaya pretending xe was okay with vamos's life choices and vamos pretending fae wasnt at all hurt by anything vaya had said or done in the past decade. so they could stand to be around each other they seemed really close from the outside but like it wouldn't have been hard for the facade to fall apart yk.

so then post comics the vs break up and the two of them really do try to stick it out together but all their unresolved issues + having no one to keep the facade up for it all falls apart really quickly and they go their seperate ways. VERY seperate ways, they hardly even talk or know where the other is for like. 5 or 6 years, maybe longer

in that time vamos moves out to zone 6 far away from everyone everything (except a mailbox, she writes to volume a lot) and settles down. not really relevant to the story but she also has 2 cats their names are vixen and venus <3 anyway she teaches herself all about tailoring and that's her job the lower level of her house is actually a shop of sorts but she also sells a lot at a market maybe half an hour away since her house is so out of the way. they patch clothes tailor them to fit better add embellisments like w/e they're commissioned to do and even make clothes from scratch sometimes though thats mostly for themself and old friends.

vaya on the other hand is kinda all over the place. theres so much in the zones and so much in the city once it gets rebuilt a bit so shes not as keen to settle down. i think xe does a lot of self reflection and such in that time i think xe has a lot of internalized transphobia anger issues ptsd all the things to work through and xe does the best xe can so when xes out at a market in zone 6 and hears about a seamstress that seems pretty familiar xe feels like xes in a place where xe can at least try to visit without all xyr old issues fucking things up before xe can even start talking yk. at worst her sibling can at least know shes alive

so thats what xe does!! and to xyr surprise vamos doesnt immediately slam the door in xyr face and they sit and talk for a bit its very strained and awkward but they talk and vamos even invites xem back if xe wants to come have dinner in a week or so. and thats as far as the story got i think i was just gonna try to figure it out from there

#vamos also has things to work thru ofc but fae just kinda ignores faer problems as much as possible #like theres so much fae doesnt know where to start and its just easier to ignore it than to try to unpack all that #anyway tysm!!! #asks #gotteethforareason

[facethefearcomic]

//CONGRATULATIONS, VALUED EMPLOYEE

With this binding signature, you have become a full-fledged member of our Wing. Rest easy knowing that Lobotomy Corporation will henceforth provide a stable and varied work environment, bustling with innovation and opportunity. Seeing as you are now ready for your first day of work, please follow the arrows to the appropriate elevator, which will take you to your assigned department.

From this point on, you will have to rely solely on your co-workers and your own intuition. Orders will be delegated to you by your superiors, and should you have any special requests, do not hesitate to inquire with your Captain or Department Head. Finally, always remember.

FACE THE FEAR, BUILD THE FUTURE

. . .

//CONTROL TEAM, MAIN ROOM

The elevator opens with a small, tinny ring. Before you can get a proper sense of your surroundings, you are instantly struck by the loud voice of a person dressed pretty much identically to you, wearing the armband of your department.

"Hey, you're the newbie, aren't you? You're two minutes late, but I guess you had to deal with paperwork."

They eye you from head to toe, sighing under their breath. As if in resignation, they relax their tense expression and look you straight in the eyes, continuing their uptight introduction.

"I'm Chel, the captain of Control. Basically, when anything goes wrong, listen to my exact orders and you might improve your chances of survival. Speaking of, don't get your hopes up now that you've joined a Wing. The facility we're standing in was fully rebuilt this month. Know what that means? The one that came before got annihilated, with not a single survivor at the end of its collapse. Only reason this place even has senior agents is because we were relocated from a different facility."

Chel scoffs, giving you one last glance-over. You're unsure what to think. Are they trying to warn you, or just make you feel bad for securing a respectable job? In the end, nothing is ever safe in the City, but a job as the Feather of a Wing always beats dying in the Backstreets. Surely the collapse of the former facility was merely an anomaly, right? Your thoughts have already began to wander, and so you decide to take in the Control Team's Main Room. It's a fairly modern one, spacious and painted a calming sandy yellow. There are large numbers of digital monitors plastered over the walls, which probably serve to keep an eye on the facility.

Just as you're about to start looking for a coffee machine, you hear an annoyed cough from Chel. They appear distinctly ready to erupt into a lecture about ignoring your betters, but are interrupted by the entrance of another individual.

//

"Good morning!"

Your second and last co-worker barges into the room, offering a meek wave.

"Oh, wow! You must be Emilia, right? I heard about your assignment from the Department Head. Is Chel giving you a hard time? Hehe, sorry about that, I'll try to keep them in check next time."

Chel rolls their eyes, exhaling in frustration.

"Well aren't you responsible, going as far as to keep your superiors in check? Let's also not ignore how you're four minutes late, when you're supposed to arrive twenty minutes before work begins. It wouldn't be very nice if someone was to write that into your performance evaluation, would it?"

"But that would never happen, hehe. Anyhow, I'm Dia! With Chel, we'll teach you the basics of our department and how to work with Abnormalities. Since this facility is brand spanking new, there's currently not a lot to keep track of. Most of the other departments are not opened yet, and those that are only house a single Abno."

"Correct. You filled out a test before coming today, yeah? Dia, did you bring the results?"

"Of course! This'll tell us what your personal strengths are! So, let's see..."

Day 1 - Decision II:

Votes tallied from the Blog and Forum.

#lobotomy corporation #project moon #lobcorp #option game #unofficial #face the fear #build the future

[lairofdragonagelore]

Merril's Eluvian

We know that Merril took a shard of the eluvian that made Tamlen disappear and affected or killed the Dalish Warden, and rebuilt the original eluvian that we saw in DAO.

That mirror, I explained in this post related to Brecilian Forest and the Witch Hunt, seems to be an Eluvian taken by Tevinter and co-opted. Its decoration speaks more of Tevinter than Dalish. As it’s easy to see that Merril’s eluvian’s frame has nothing to do with the “original” one. Not even the shape of the mirror itself was conserved. In Merril’s, it has now a squarish shape.

I always found strange the frame of this particular eluvian, because if it's a “home-made” frame, why do we find others exactly the same in the Crossroads? Or in Celene’s secret room? Or in the Deep Roads in The Descent? [all in DAI]. Does this frame belong to an original eluvian we never saw which, somehow, Merril knew of? I feel it was a mistake in the development of DA2 that later stuck along DAI simply because its shape is characteristic of Merril’s eluvian. If you think about it, it makes little sense that we can find others with the same exact frame when it was all Merril’s work.

The frame is quite elaborated in comparison with the elvhenan ones: it has a halla on top, some circular “branches” that look like a bark-ish stylised snake biting its tail, and a lot of roots and tree branches surrounded by swirls.

Let’s start with the top: the halla/deer. Does it have six legs? The resolution of the game for the details has always been poor, so it's hard to know for sure. I think it’s clear that the front legs are three, while the back legs are more diffused.

In DA2 it may not mean much, but in DAI we see a pattern of halla-like creatures with more than 4 legs.  It seems something to consider. 

I don't know if we can see the halla jumping out of a “serpent's mouth”. I know that we only see swirls, but curiously, those swirls looks like positioned in a place that can simulate eyes of a snake. If we consider this pattern as a stylised snake, we can also consider the circle around the middle of the mirror like an ouroborus snake biting its tale. Does this have any relations with lore? I’m not sure. 

We find many times along DAI a symbol with a snake biting its tail:

[I will do a post about these symbols, but they are not uncommon, we can find it several times in different contexts all over DAI [the Fade, inside the Red Templar’s HQ, in an Avvar man’s house], what I see in the pattern is that it’s mostly related to blood or forbidden magic. If my interpretation is correct, what we see as stylised snakes in this mirror makes sense, since Merril has been working with blood/forbidden magic on it. However, I can’t be sure completely since it’s more a symbolic shape of a serpent than a clear, real shape. Being accurate, we can only see a lot of swirls. In DAI, swirls tend to represent veilfire or magical power [for example, the statues of dragon-Mythal and the howling-wolf statue of Fen’Harel show a lot of swirls around their bodies and mouth, so the eluvian is following this elven pattern.]

At the bottom of the eluvian, we see a tree-like trunk, showing some tendrils that look like roots. If we compare this with the loadscreen, it seems to be part of a big network. It’s strange because in DAO, we learned that this eluvian was connected to a dark place that was filled with darkspawn, unless a single eluvian can connect with different places depending on the key used [as it’s implied with Kieran in DAI: a same eluvian makes you go to the crossroad or to a part of the Fade depending on the power used on it to override it]

The concept art of the eluvian is mostly the same one we got in the game with the exception of the halla. In the concept art, the halla has a skull on its head, which is more accurate with the oversimplified version of the eluvian in the loadscreen. Which also makes us wonder if there is a relationship with the  Strange Skull-Dragon totem. 

The whole configuration of this mirror frame makes me remember the red idol, which also has a snake around it, some circles hovering the figures, and roots on the bottom [More details in the post of Red Lyrium idol]. 

But returning to the Eluvian: all over the frame we see swirls, which are common patterns in DA series to represent the lyrium or magic or veilfire. Small branches of tree seems to emerge from the “serpent” and from the base of the mirror. The concept art adds little to what we see in game. 

At some point, Merril thinks that the mirror needs a finishing tool: an arulin'holm, which is a tool to shape wood, so more reasons to think this frame is made by her and should not be more of them around Thedas.

When we analyse the loadscreen, we see some extra details: it shows the frame of the mirror as made of wood, joined to the earth with the rest of the trees, so in the end, it implies that it’s a mirror linked to a network = the crossroad [we saw those dried trees there which are related to empowering elven artefacts in DAI]. Those trees are drawn in a way that can be interpreted as well as lyrium veins, as we have been seeing in most of the art of Dragon Age in books and presentations of DAO, DAA and DA2. Are these tree representations of the Titan’s veins? Do they fuel part of the artefacts made by the elvenhan? DAI suggested so. 

This mirror has a skull of a halla on its top, or maybe it’s a dragon. It’s hard to say in this oversimplified version of the mirror. I think it’s curious that this detail can be linked to the Pulsing Obelisk we find in the DLC and in several other parts along the game [see the post Strange Skull-Dragon totem ]. In DAI, I could finally link this obelisk with something: raising dead or, at the end of the day, blood magic. So if this mirror has any similarity to that obelisk, it remains being the same link: blood magic.

The last detail I noticed is related to the symbol we find in its background, faintly.

It's the Symbol of Flemeth or Andraste. Ingame, we only see this symbol in the helm of the statues of Andraste in DAO or in the presentation of DA2 which displays art of flemeth [we see it in DA2 during the presentation/narration of Varric]. This symbol can be found with more detail in the books or in other games like Heroes of Dragon Age. It always represents Flemeth’s staff. 

As a last colourful comment, we can see in the Black emporium another eluvian with Merril’s frame, but it’is infected with red lyrium. It’s called Mirror of Transformation and despite the creepy implications I think it was a funny element done by the devs. What makes me think this now is because this mirror was changed in the DAI’s Black emporium, showing a normal, standard eluvian.  Black emporium’s eluvian in DA2:

Black emporium’s eluvian in DAI:

[Index page of Dragon Age Lore ]

#flemeth #eluvian #merril #halla #snake

[bridgyrose]

ciel maiden au her becomeing maidne aslo kinda headacanon her being rabbit ears fausne hide her ears with that hate you dont have to use that if dont want to but you can

(Hope this works for you.)

“Miss Soleil.” 

Ciel took a moment to stand at attention as General Ironwood called for her. “Yes sir?” 

“I need you to come with me.” 

Ciel paused for a moment and looked over to the tube Penny’s body was kept in as it was repaired and rebuilt. Her hand shook for a moment as her tone slipped from its usual tone. “What for? As Penny’s keeper, I am supposed to stay by her side no matter what until she is repaired and functional.” 

Ironwood nodded and turned to walk off. “There’s an important matter I would like to discuss with you. Please, follow me.” 

Ciel lingered by Penny for a few moments longer before finally pulling away to follow General Ironwood. She kept a few steps behind the general as she walked, making sure to keep herself in proper form as much as she could. Her eyes glanced at her watch, carefully watching Penny’s vitals until they disappeared and showed only the time. “What do you need me for, general?” 

“I’m making a change of plans for your position. Seeing as Penny was a prototype to house the maiden and Specialist Schnee is too close to her sister for the responsibility, you are next in line for a new project.” 

“And what project is that?” 

“To be the defender of Atlas as the Winter Maiden.” 

Ciel paused in her step as she heard the words, not quite registering what the general had meant. “I’m not sure I follow what you mean.” 

“I’ll explain everything, however this needs to remain between us.” Ironwood stopped at a door and placed his hand against a scanner. The door opened and he stepped aside. “After you.” 

Ciel took a few slow and careful steps into the room and paused as she looked down into a medical bay with an older woman kept in one of the aura transfer machines. Her heart raced for a moment as she took everything in, her well hidden emotions starting to make their way out. “Who is she?” 

“She is the winter maiden. She is the key to the relic that this academy hides, and a wielder of magic.” 

“Magic… magic doesnt exist.” 

“It does, though it seems very few know of it or ever see it.” Ironwood sat down and smiled a bit. “But today, I want you to make a choice. You can become a protector of our kingdom in a way you never could before, or you can go back to watching Penny and wait for her to be rebuilt so you can be her keeper once more.” 

Ciel made her way to the window, eyes glued to the old woman. “What’s her name?” 

“Her name is Fria. She doesnt have much longer to live, but still long enough for you to make your decision. If you do agree-” 

“I’ll do it.” 

Ironwood paused for a moment. “Are you sure?” 

Ciel nodded and pulled back from the window and looked back at her watch, tapping it impatiently to bring Penny’s vitals back on screen. “It was my job to make sure Penny was safe and on time for everything, to make sure that she had a companion that was trusted and to make sure that anyone she interacted with would not hurt her or know what she is. And I… failed with that. But maybe I can keep her safe once she’s repaired. And protect Atlas.” 

Ironwood smiled and nodded. “Then we’ll start the transfer in the morning. I suggest you get some rest and prepare for it.” 

Ciel nodded and kept her eyes on her watch as Penny’s vitals rotated back onto the screen. Her heart slowed a bit when she saw that everything was still normal for her in the state she was in. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Ironwood stand up and leave the room, letting her be alone as she let her thoughts wander on how to protect everyone.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Again.” 

Ciel’s eyes glowed with a bright fire as she tried to take a few breaths and watched the field in front of her. Hard light projections of grimm started to appear in the training arena as her eyes moved to each one, trying to track their movements. With almost robotic-like movements, Ciel tried to mimic how she saw Penny fight, eyes moving from one grimm to the next as she sent out shards of ice, fireballs, and directed the wind to keep the grimm at bay. Her aura shattered again as a sabyr knocked her over and the program stopped. 

“That’s enough,” Ironwood called out from the observation room. “I’ll see you here again tomorrow, Ciel.” 

Ciel struggled to pick herself up as the flames in her eyes died down and the time on her watch started to slow down. She took a few breaths as her semblance slowed everything around her to a complete stop, standing still and letting her aura try to recharge slightly. While her semblance wasnt great for combat, as long as she stood still, she could get the rest she needed. Once she finished, she moved and dropped her semblance, letting time pick up again. “I’m ready for another round.” 

Ironwood paused. “Are you sure?” 

Ciel nodded and focused as she created a staff with her maiden powers, eyes blazing. “Again!” 

#james ironwood #ciel soleil #drabbles #maiden!ciel #maiden!ciel au #ciel should have a time stop semblance #as a treat