#( part of making sure she's competent and self-reliant )

[chaoscreaturewrites]

Call of duty, Ghost, fluff, domestic sweetness master post link

Tea time

Summary:He's infatuated with his new neighbor he passes every day on his dog walks, and today, she waved him over for tea time. She regularly starts inviting him over to feed him.

WC: 1.6k

Part 3

Simon is an early riser, it's a habit so ingrained into him it will never leave. That's how he found himself talking to Riley at 5:30 about what time do regular people wake up and debating when he should go over to her house. 

They never exchange phone numbers or set a time to go out, leaving Simon confused and a bit antsy. He turns his energy toward something he can do, clean his truck. He always keeps it in good condition, never letting dust or trash pile up, but with nothing else to do he cleans it thoroughly in preparation for his guest. 

Riley comes over whining to Simon who realizes it's time for their walk, not only is this a good opportunity to clear his head but he can also get a look and see if her house looks like she's awake. 

He takes in his surroundings, the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, the small trickle of water in the gutter, the smooth patches of asphalt where potholes were, the smell of grass from a freshly cut lawn, the clouds passing by overhead, the huffs and whines of Riley as he fights a stick, the sound of his own breath. 

Simon's not big on shrinks and mental health but with his past and line of work he needed something to clear his head and calm him down and this is the trick he found. It was something called 5 things you can hear, see, feel, smell. He doesn't stick to the 5 things, but on his walks or in moments he needs it he'll use the method of cataloging his surroundings to get him out of his head. 

He stops in front of her house, taking a look for lights or open windows but doesn't see anything and continues on. There is no rush and he's sure she'll let him know when it's time.

His truck is spotless, he changed outfits twice, he's never acted like this before, never primped and prepped like this and definitely not for going to a farm store. This isn't even a date yet he's acting like a teenager getting ready for their first date, trying to see what clothes send the right vibe, but what clothes fit the vibe ‘ I like you a lot but can't say so I'm just sticking around you and we are making a duck pond together’, what clothes do you wear for that huh. 

A knock at his door, both he and Riley are running to it, he stops a moment to compose himself so he doesn't appear over eager. He opens the door to find her looking up at him, eyes sparkling in that magical way.

“ Good morning”

“ Good morning, are you ready to go ?”

“ Yep, all set”

He couldn't correct her that it is no longer morning, that he'd been up since 5 and 10 is basically midday for him, so he simply sets that fact aside and greets her. Besides if sleeping in till 9 or 10 is what lets her be so bright and cheery then let her sleep all she wants. 

She definitely looks prepared in her overalls, but he notes this must be a different pair then the ones she works in because he knows that house paint doesn't wash out. Either way, splattered in paint or spotless still an adorable look, but she could pull off any look seamlessly. 

It takes a bit of wrangling to get Riley to stay inside so that he can close the door, he seemed very determined to join them and very upset to only receive a brief greeting from his new favorite person. It's not that he couldn't have come with, you'll find all manner of pets walking through a farm store it just Riley can never stay put in the car, jumping around all excited, it adds a competent unnecessary and dangerous addition to driving.

As they walk to the truck Simon notes how much his truck dwarfs her, the door step above her knee and the side mirror extends beyond her height. Seeing this he automatically goes to her side to offer assistance but being other self reliant women she is already climbing up the side of his truck and getting in. Their eyes meet and she returns his astonished expression with a smirk. He tries to shake off whatever just happened and the unidentifiable feelings it's caused, because he's already being awkward enough and more of that wont help being alone on for a long car ride together with no activity to distract them.

“Whats up slowpoke”

“Apologies I just thought you'd need a hand”

“Relax im just teasing”

He'd already looked up where the place is so no need for a GPS, he basically is one naturally.  So off they go, in a sort of awkward silence neither of them knows how to broach. 

He's running through a thousand hypotheticals on what to say to bridge the silence and clear away this awkward air but like the clothes situation he doesn't know or have the background information to pull from. Then it happens she bridges the divide.

“ Do you want some trail mix? “

“ uhh, Yes, please”

He holds out his hand and she pours a scoop in his hand, he chucks it all in his mouth and is delightfully surprised but why did he even expect different. Of course this isn't some store bought package, nope she made it all herself, her own person blend, its got everything, salty, sweet, oaky, bitter. 

“ Do you like it i can pick something out if you dont”

“ It's delicious just as is, what's in it anyways?”

“Oh; almonds, pumpkin seeds,cashew, honey roasted granola, freeze dried strawberries, dark chocolate bits and yogurt drops”

“ how come you make everything all yourself, most try to avoid all that work”

“The joy,  there was a time when I didn't ever feel joy and didnt think i could have it, but eventually i learned its not something you stumble into you have to make it, so making everything myself gives me joy and satisfying knowing i created it, something as simple as a drink to as complex as my garden i learned to find the joy in all of it”

He didn't expect such a deep answer, this has changed his perception of her. Before he thought she was one of those lucky folks who was never touched by darkness, he did not think it possible for someone so bright to have faced the dark but here she is contradicting everything. 

“That's … beautiful… i uhh”

“Expected something like i enjoy hard work and find it fulfilling”

“Yeah something simpler like that”

“Im not big on small talk, why talk about things on the surface level when it gets you nowhere, right?”

“agreed, at work people barely talk to me cause they know i dont do small talk”

“Oh yeah I was wondering what is your work? I mean it must be something physically demanding, or do you look like that for fun?” 

[chuckels]

“ no i dont just look like this for fun,  im a military contractor”

“ Seriously?"

“ jokes arnt my thing, im usually always serious”

“ That's why you have that look”

“What look?”

“People either interact with me like I'm some ditzy lil thing living in the clouds and they're super condescending, or they act like I'm a refuge from the storm, a light that outshines their darkness, something pure. The second case is rare but I saw it in your eyes the day we met, when you sat entranced as i shoved food in your direction”

“ you knew all that one day 1”

“Well I speculated you had some storm clouds before, but that day confirmed it”

He never would have suspected the car ride to go like this, awkward silence, or fumbling making a fool out of himself, yes that was expected but not this. To learn something so personal about her, to see her in a whole new light and to know how much she already knew about him. How just with a glance she saw right through him and she never brought it up, she just went along knowing what good she was doing for him without ever seeking recognition. He never thought of her as ditzy or spacey but he does recognize he didn't think she had this depth to her and that he will correct. 

“ Thank you”

“For what, I haven't done anything”

“For inviting me into your garden and life”

“Youve made mine better for it too”

This tender, deep moment is broken as a baby cow walks past their parked car instantly catching her attention, making her coo and awe. Next thing he knows she's jumped out of the car, approached the owner and is now petting the cow. This reminds him of how Soap gets distracted and runs off but this is 10x more cute. Luckily from Soap he has lots of experience keeping a close eye and spotting potential distractions and danger, but he does note how not all of his Soap catching methods would work with her or be appropriate, plus she has no utility straps to grab onto, but the likelihood of pulling out of the way of danger is much lower. 

He gets out and stands beside her, the cows owner looks to him and they share a nod of silent understanding. Luckily she understood the social time limit on how long you can pet anothers animal and parts from the cow, so they can head into the shop and get ready for her own cute animal additions.

Tag list

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[lesser-mook]

The Machine (Pioneer of propaganda: Edward Bernays) *The science of control of the many by the few*

2:15 Notice how they use/weaponize women to push a bad habit & paint a method to shorten your life as a Rights issue.  

When the agenda was profit, not agency of women. 

That's how they manipulate our girls & ladies. They play on their natural altruism/power to assemble into community to fight for what's right through protest and the one's running the show are leading you off a cliff: 

That's modern gynocentrism in a nutshell. Keep women at war with men, keep girls propagandized, keep their ego's radicalized, or fear monger them into being paranoid of men or just hating maleness. 

The goal is destroying women's trust of men. And it doesn't help that corrupt men are working toward the same end from the other side.

When the best interest of both parties is having each other. 

And they (puppetmasters) know it.

"The point of propaganda is to sell you a suggestion and make you believe it was your idea."

Propaganda is science. The cheapest form of warfare; It takes longer for sure but because it's a slow burn, it's that much harder to undo because it's so intimiately integrated. So patient and articulate.

You can't just re-write generations of cemented culture overnight, the people using it know how easy the mind is to break. Especially when an incentive is indulgence, hubris, lust, ego, insecurity, longing, desire, pain, trauma even. 

It is an effective way to bring down a nation without firing a single warhead or expending a single soldier.

Convince the enemy to want their own destruction, trivialize their own livees or "eat each other". (Joker 2008)

Chani in DUNE PART Two is genius misdirection. 

She represents the skeptic who sees the dangers of propaganda, the one going against the grain:

But the point the movie made was she was proven wrong because the propaganda wasn't a lie and the messiah produced results in a matter of days- so her credibility was shaken.

Miracles, a man of works disproved the naysayer, who was technically the only person using her brain. One woman, woman of reason. (RIp, to her friend who also shared her view)

Thus was she wrong because the messiah did come?

No. The overtone is skeptics are not to be trusted because the Messiah/Anti-Christ/Superman/Neo/Lisan Al-Gaib is true.

But Chani was indeed right, the propaganda was and is a means of control despite the fact that the messiah exists, she's still right.

The Fremen "Free-Men" had everything they needed to do exactly what Paul had them do, they didn't need him entirely, but their success rate was increased because of him but their liberation was ultimately in their hands. As Paula alluded to anyway.

The Masses, the little people, the infrastructure have the power. 

Not Big brother, not the giants, but the people making the system work with the sweat of their labor have the power. 

Chani was right.

Point being: Both the propaganda can be right, and be a means of control, a lie to affirm a pacifying effect. Both can exist at the same time.

Propaganda is a sociological weapon for the psychological, it could be used to take humanity further for the goal of good, fortify the wills of the youth instead of planting discord and confusino. 

Train efficient children in a more practical school model, not enable a society where children are not even safe in schools. 

Raise competent girls trained to be self-sufficient yet humble, trained to be accountable, mentored to preserve womanhood. 

Thus resulting in women who are not dependent on the system for empowerment & charity and in fact are a dangerous force because they're not reliant for validation. 

Which is why they will be conditioned to always need it. "GirlBosses" can be controlled. A woman who can carry her own weight is too controversial for the establishment. Hence why we “support all women” until they step out of line of the accepted narrative.

Productive men with their balls still attached, not running away from society & women but welcomed to the fold. Mentored to be stable, humble, responsible, emotionally competent, boys taught that empathy is not a woman thing but a human essential. 

(Sounds heavenly)

 But control or the illusion of it- can be used against people. Peace is boring to some, it's why that very simple model will never be a reality. 

Some feel watching people burn is the way, it's why the traditional family has to be torn down, some believe chaos is the natural order, it's why you're never afforded peace in "peacetime". 

War of the sexes, political wars, race wars, culture wars, always something to keep everyone's eyes in one direction. People must fight.

(That's what Ledgers JOKER represents= Anarchy):

 "I'll show you. When the chips are down, these, ah, "civilized people"? They'll eat each other. "

The attitude being: Humanity & life is trivial. We're a tedious cause because we can be convinced to kill each other anyway or trained to romanticize genocide & violence. 

“Vulgar masses.”

The fact that Joker was proven wrong during the ferry scene isn't the point, it's misdirection. It's the fact that Harvey (A man of power of the system/ A man whom the people honored) proved him right.

It's the fact that Joker was crazy, but had an argument. 

It's not the fact that Thanos lost, it's the fact that he had an argument. He was wrong by means, but the why was right, that's the dangerous part.

The nugget of truth in the insanity is the seed, the argument is the propaganda, that's what it is dangerous. They're right and written to be so.

Through movies, tv shows games, comics, porn, fetishism (which just means obsession, doesn't always mean sex, being a Neet is form of fetishism/ literally just means *ZERO moderation/Doing too much*), books, drugs, addiction to youtube or tiktok, news, everything you see as a child, set into our ways as adults- Distraction.

Power is knowing, if you're distracted, you're least likely to know anything. Sometimes you don't want to know. More willing to give more of oneself & ones time to maintain the fix: Ie. "Minding my business", "Live and let live" 

Apathy is law. Just like the Little Nightmares viewers, compliant and sterilized. Question nothing.

Genius model to condition people to want to remain sleep, aka The Matrix

They know what they're doing, that's why they're on top.

It's why they're called "Elites", not that they're better than you or immortal. 

They know, that's it. They know.

Knowing is enough.

______________

One would reasonably say: "Coincidence, who the fuck puts all that effort in controlling people", "It's just a movie", think about it. Why are all these movies & mass media pushing the exact same thing. 

No matter how many times a show or movie bombs because of a political push, they still push the same viewpoint. Because assaulting you, namely your kids is the goal, YOU will reject it, some won't, but the successors to your generation specifically might even support it. 

Plant seeds in the next generation, the future.

And notice how the macro-companies that own these studios/companies aren't ran by you/us/ the people, normal people but instead upper echelons ran by bloodlines/ people you don't even know exist. People sooooo rich, but sooooo.....to themselves.

Celebrities are the visible "Stars" you see in the sky, but the people that own them, the people that fund them, you never see.

All these Agent Smiths, but we never see the Architect(s).

____________________

If you think it's petty, you're right, it is. If you think it's ridiculous, good, because it is, but the reality remains the same stubborn animal it was 50-100++ years ago.

Questioning this is not discouraged on my part, to question anything takes intelligence, and just because someone talks a lot doesn't mean they know what the fuck they're talking about. 

So by all means, question what I say if it smells funky to you: But all I ask is--- 

#1 **Do Not Ignore it.** Just keep it into consideration.  

#2 Don't stress over it, fear mongering isn't the point of being aware, the point of knowing what's going on with your culture thus you is building an immune defense mechanism to having your mind infiltrated any further.

Don't fear life or your society because aspects of it are designed to take advantage of you, not all of it is. Like going to the dentist isn't some grand plan to install trackers in your jaw, the lore of society is deep, but it's not that deep. 

Don't fear it, just be aware.

_______________________

Example: I watched DUNE PART TWO the first time knowing it was anti-christ propaganda, I didn't clutch my pearls the entire time- I fucking enjoyed the shit outta that film.

I saw it 4 times before March ended while knowing exactly what it was, but I didn't watch it 4 times (or anything I watch) to dissect it or find things wrong with it.

Despite what it is (& no it's not perfect as a film), I watched it that many times because I liked it, you can still enjoy things and know what it is.

And cut some things out of your life because you know what it is. But you have to see and know. "You need to see."

The ability to discern and know the difference, the OPTION to even drop certain things, is control, agency.

 The ability to "know" what it is you're seeing is the point of my or anyone saying anything, not fear: Awareness. The ability to see.

If someone is trying to scare you, they're weaponizing the truth (and sometimes, some people don't mean to their way with words/Internet charisma stats is just not where it should be to deliver the message in the best way possible). 

The true design/purpose of truth is freedom. You have the option to do or don't. Vs just being stuck in NPC mode, just acting on impulse, one way and one way only. Zero agency.

That's what Jamis told Paul: "You need to see.", All seeing Eye.

Thanos had the will to do what felt needed to be done because he had the "curse of knowledge". Not many people know what that truly meeans. 

That's why Oracle was top 3 one of the most powerful Matrix characters, not because she was the mother of the Matrix but she knew. She had "knowing".

___________

***Knowing and seeing are two different things. 

You can see something and not know what it is. You can know what to look for and not see it. 

Knowing what it is you see/ seeing it because you know: Is the point. Balance.

Not fear. Fear is just another means of control.

Can’t live a life if one fears seeing something, living in fear because you know something. That is just self-destructive. 

______________

Otherwise, these cabals are the one's that began the slogan

"Knowledge is power", 

everybody knows the phrase, but not the lore behind it.

It has nothing to do with college or degrees, you know something useless and still be useless. 

It's a taunt.  

They know. NPC's, the uninitiated, the masses: don't know.

Part of the point of the quote is a nod to the initiated, and part of it is irony.

The art of mass persuasion.

[enkisstories]

Daniel & Gavin in 30 pics

My OTP started out with me wanting to give Daniel a better ending than he got in the game I adopted him from (DBH). He could have become anything and gotten every partner he wanted. But he chose... Well, it's my sweet and somewhat explosive Daniel we're talking about here. He didn't choose wisely.

Daniel's story started with him being a self-determined android ("deviant") safely stored away in the Detroit Police Department's evidence archive for having killed his owner. And with Detective Gavin Reed, who had the genius idea to reactivate the killer robot to act as the DPD's janitor, under an alias, of course.

You can see where this is leading, right? With the same (in)ability to make judement calls they are a match made in heaven.

Daniel at this point was guilt-stricken and reliant on Gavin to keep his secret.  They both looked down on each other as persons as well as members of the "lesser" species.

The first time they cooperated was during a costume contest, where Daniel made sure that Gavin would win against SWAT Captain Allen, whom they both hated. On this one occasion they swapped roles, but it didn't lead to a greater empathy for the other.

Since ambitious, self-serving Gavin with his inappropriate sense of humor was strongly disliked at the DPD, he drafted Daniel to keep him company whenever Officer Tina Chen wasn't available. (Tina being an introvert, she used Gavin as a sort of human shield to get left alone.)

In time Daniel gained confidence. He started manipulating his expense sheet as well as scamming the officers for money. Nobody noticed.

Daniel also learned Gavin's backstory of having grown up homeless. 

He understood that the detective operated from fear even moreso than from arrogance, fear to end up in the streets again should he be found unable to compete with modern androids like the RK800 crimescene investigation model.

As Daniel grew bolder again, he took less and less bs from the detective, leading to them brawling in the cafeteria one morning. During this incident Daniel let slip that androids do feel pain, only differently from humans, in the form of headache from all the damage notifications building up.

Pragmatic to a fault, Captain Fowler decided to ignore "Dean” showing obvious signs of deviance, seeing that - this fight not counting - he was obedient and well integrated. Instead of deactivating him, Fowler tasked the janitor with preparing a presentation on the topic of android pain.

Daniel refused to hand the cops information that might endanger his fellow deviants. Gavin stepped up and for the first time they touched in other ways than elbowing and smacking each other.

Daniel realized that in bolstering his spirit, Gavin was just helping his own career along. The detective wanted to pass off “his” PL600's expertise as his own and establish himself as the resident android expert. If androids were unavoidable, somebody had to supvervise them, after all!

At this point Lt. Anderson intervened by telling Daniel that he had to live again, even if that meant making terrible mistakes (again). Daniel eventually relented, did the presentation together with Gavin and was promoted to police technician. 

He was part of something again now, granted, that something was a dysfunctional team of immature cops, but beggars can’t be choosers. But as much as having a sort of family again pleased Daniel, he also felt as if he had become one of the reviled RK800s himself, a traitor to his species.

(Spoilered for length)

The week before Christmas Gavin's parents came to Detroit. They met their son while he was still in the company of Tina and Daniel and quickly took a liking to them both. The elder Reeds were under the impression that their son was a goodhearted person, a hero even. That image got destroyed when the group ran into Lt. Anderson and Connor RK800 and a vicious argument ensued.

In the confrontation’s aftermath Daniel agreed to accompany the Reeds home to act as intermediary between Gavin and his parents.

He told the elder Reeds that their son was indeed a shitty person, but a competent detective, who had made the city a good deal safer. Both Daniel and Gavin complained about androids taking their jobs in the near future: RK900 Gavin's and the new AP700 Daniel's. And Connor... ranting about Connor was always a safe topic between these two.

Daniel struggled with the realisation that he enjoyed caring for humans, a desire that conflicted with his kind's ongoing campaign for freedom. If an android was seen serving willingly, that would greatly undermine the movement.

Back at work Gavin, Connor and Lt. Anderson got temporarily demoted to beat cops for having pointed guns at each other back in november.

In a fit of anger and the desire for revenge Gavin tried to expose Connor as a deviant. Turned out Captain Fowler was already aware of this, but didn’t give a damn, because even as a deviant Connor was incredibly loyal and efficient.

Daniel offered to cover for Gavin should he want to take the day off, but the detective refused.

At this point fate threw the duo a bone in the form of a little truant. Emma, the daughter of Daniel’s previous owners, was skipping school in order to not have to participate in shop class, where they obducted an android that day.

In facing “Dean” the PL600, Emma was able to work on her trauma regarding Daniel having killed her father and having taken her hostage afterwards.

Daniel at first wasn’t sure whether Gavin had arranged this meeting for his benefit or to torture him. 

When they realized that they had started looking out for each other, they shared a coffee and a thirium bottle as equals for the first time. Just two cops hanging out together and hating on that upstart, Connor, their mutual nemesis.

As a single, Gavin was among those officers who had to work on Christmas. 

He gave Daniel a computer game, The Sims 8, and Daniel in turn prepared lobster, seafood being Gavin’s favorite.

Then on the 25th they got called to a crime scene. A mystery killer was targeting androids by interfacing directly with their brains. 

Despite their new closeness, Gavin and Daniel got into an argument when Gavin kept referring to the victim as an “it”. Daniel turned around, giving the others the impression that he’d look for clues inside a nearby store, when in truth he ran away all the way back to the DPD (feeling silly when he arrived there).

Gavin spotted Daniel again wearing a brand new and obviously stolen jacket. He yelled at him, unaware that he was really talking to a different PL600, a fugitive by name of Simon, one of the key members of the android rights movement.

Simon immediately picked up that there was some history between this cop and the android he was taking him for. He asked what “he” was to Gavin and the detective replied that he didn‘t know. He then told “Daniel” to change back and that he would leave the money for the jacket in the store’s cash register, saying:

“There’s part of your answer, you’re something I invest money into.”

Just like Daniel before him, Simon protested against getting called something. 

Gavin claimed it didn’t matter and sent “Daniel” back to the DPD where he’d be safe from the mystery killer. Before leaving, Simon said he’d wipe his memory of the encounter and would not remember the insult when next “he” would meet Gavin again.

Meanwhile at the police station, Daniel regretted having run away. He didn’t know how to face Lt. Anderson, who had always been supportive towards him. Hank in turn had gotten informed by Gavin that he had sent Daniel back. That put Daniel under the impression that selfish Gavin of all people was covering for him, resulting in a class 4 error turning his LED pink for a moment.

Gavin would later admit that he’d always had a crush on Daniel, whereas Daniel didn’t remember when he had started to reciprocate. Objectively it was in this moment of a human protecting him from the fallout of his own rash decisions.

At New Year’s Eve Captain Fowler sent Daniel on patrol. Gavin handed him a pistol despite androids being prohibited from handling weapons.

Daniel was afraid what he might do with access to a weapon again. They argued, Daniel shot an exterior lamp and Gavin disclosed that this had been a test set up by Lt. Anderson to see how far Daniel had come since his reactivation. 

Angry at getting sneakily tested, Daniel kicked Gavin into the family jewels despite still holding the pistol - he could just as easily have shot him in this moment, but didn’t. Gavin concluded that Daniel had learned to use “appropriate levels of violence”.

At the party later that day both got a little tipsy. Phone pics of them cuddling were snapped.

Things turned downhill for the DPD cops the next year. Lt. Anderson, Connor, Gavin, Tina and Daniel scored too low in a teamwork exercise and as a result got transferred to a scenic tourist trap at Lake Erie. Here they couldn’t exploit the relative anonymity of the DPD central station, but had to closely cooperate with the other local cops, two humans and one RK900.

Unlike the more metropolitan Detroit, where android rights were accepted by a steadily growing number of humans, albeit not coded in the law yet, in Brindleton Bay they were viewed as mere machines. As a result Daniel was forced to wear a PL600 android shirt again.

When he realized how much that humiliated his friend, Gavin gave him his own jacket (he is reasonably cold resistant in my AUs)...

...and later the same day they had had their first kiss, that also included Tina.

An aromantic/introvert, a deviant on the run from the law and a generally unlikeable dork, the trio vowed to grow old together.

Daniel and Gavin from this day on were seen cuddling in public, no longer caring what others might think of them. 

They still retained a deep loathing for each other’s species, accepting only the other as the one exception from the norm.

The acid test for the relationship came when the trio went sailing. Tina was an experienced sailor, Daniel used an app and Gavin just tried to not get in the way. But Daniel’s app crashed, leading to the boat getting run over by a steamboat. The humans got injured and Daniel’s skin module stopped working, revealing the plastic chassis underneath.

While recovering on the Adeline, Gavin managed to change his perception of the android limbs to prostheses and they grew closer than ever before (but so far hadn’t had sex, even though Daniel was - rare for an android - interested).

A complication arose when the Adeline’s all-android crew revealed themselves to Daniel as not just deviants, but the actual leadership circle of the android rights movement.

They were surprised to learn that Connor the deviant hunter had deviated himself. Daniel agreed to keep their secret and do whatever was in his power to help them - in his new position that was quite a lot.

However, back on shore Brindleton Bay PD’s chief claimed that an android damaged to this degree wasn’t suited to present to the public. Only him officially being privately owned by Gavin saved Daniel from the scrapyard.

Daniel and Gavin continued to date, with the usual arguments sprinkled in. They also grew closer to Connor to the point where Daniel and the deviant hunter shared memories of their first confrontation.

Gavin hadn’t forgotten about ���Captain Parker” and his android crew. He suspected him of smuggling licensed/restricted android models and figured that Parker would be the one to talk to for a new skin module for Daniel.

(Androids in this setting have a dna-like signature in their fuel/blood, so as a wanted murderer Daniel could not just walk into a store and buy a skin module.)

“Parker” and his companions remained cautious and eventually Gavin’s grating personality led to a brawl. The moment he hit “Parker”, Gavin knew that this man was an android himself.

Putting the pieces together, Gavin understood that he was facing public enemy number one. He and Markus/Parker drew guns on each other, but Daniel quickly wrestled the weapon from Markus - only to point it at Gavin himself.

No amount of talking could sway the detective’s attitude. Worse, Gavin felt betrayed by Daniel, the android who put so much weight on loyalty and truthfulness, and called him a hypocrite for having kept the Adeline’s secret.

The deviants took Gavin captive on their ship. Heartbroken, Daniel accompanied them.

While locked into a bathroom, Gavin discovered red ice crystals coming out of the faucet. Someone had hidden them in the ship’s water tanks, under the assumption that androids wouldn’t use the bathrooms.

Markus tasked Gavin and Daniel with investigating who had set him up in this way. By now Daniel was a cop through and through, and accused the deviants of being involved in the drug deal to their faces. It didn’t endear him to them.

After all kinds of awkwardness, Daniel, Gavin and Markus managed to apprehend the drug dealers. 

In this moment of being full of himself, with a promotion to Lieutenant incoming and just having had an involuntary whiff of red ice solution, Gavin promised to keep the secret of “Captain Parker” and his crew.

Markus arranged repairs for Daniel and the couple moved in together.

They assured each other how fortunate they were in their own unique fashion: “You scored with ME, you must be the luckiest man alive!”.

I like to cast post-revolution Daniel as a teacher, but in this story he went on working in a museum as tourguide and “vintage pre-revolution PL600″ rolled into one, for the first time earning his own money. (Officially the museum paid the money to Gavin for “lending” them the android.)

It would take more time until both would warm up to the other’s species, but eventually they got there.

---

Sources:

Officer arresting deviant Quest for Connor Fairytale of Detroit The Underground Airline

And the sequel

The android cemetary

This series started as a crossover between DBH and Sims 4. I plan to rewrite it as just a DBH story (among other changes I’m going to swap my OC Brandon out for Nines), but maybe rather later than sooner.

[pallastronomy]

SLAMS MY PAPERS ON THE DESK. I tried to doublecheck a lot of this but it still does have a few holes in it so could I be wrong? Am I reading into things too much? Both very possible. But still. Autism under the cut.

Obviously Starira diversified weapon designs a LOT with the new cast but Frontier embodies that more than any other group I feel; new state-of-the-art tech is their defining point when you contrast them against the other new schools. Not a single conventional sword in the roster. Good for them.

Aruru is obviously the most egregious example of this. In the context of revues where removing cloaks requires getting in close with some kind of sharp edge, ranged weapons are an inherent disadvantage, especially if you’re forced on the defensive. Arrows you can make work, sure, but bullets? In a typical 1v1 revue you are not tearing somebody’s cloak off with that, especially not the more elaborate ones e.g. Siegfeld or Rinmeikan (at least not without genuinely injuring them, which is its own fun bag of potential implications that I’ll leave to simmer)

But that’s the thing. We don’t actually start seeing one-on-one revues until Arcana Arcadia. It’s all of Frontier fighting as a collective (And keep in mind, even together, they still lose the revue to Seisho), and then the whole group coming together to deal with the Korosu. Every other stage girl from Frontier has at least some manner of sharpened point or blade on their weapons to be used for removing cloaks, so it isn’t something Aruru has to do directly. She’s in her element here; she thrives on stage in the company of her family, working together with them, therefore the others covering that weakness for her makes perfect sense.

Enter Arcana Arcadia, which completely throws that familiar element out the window.

So how do Aruru and her weapons function in the context of a legitimate revue, when she’s forced to finally fight on her own?

They don’t.

That’s the point.

Even before Aruru gives them the first serious push they need to move forward, the others know and have already accepted what they’re getting into by committing to the path of a stage girl. They’ve always been capable of forging ahead on their own, even if it means inevitable partings or competition down the line, and their weapons have the hallmarks of that in sporting some variety of cutting edge.

Aruru is the exception to this

Whether or not it’s intentional, it’s extremely telling.

Aruru Otsuki and her weapons alike are the illusion of brilliance, the moon reflecting light from the sun. Something that appears both self-reliant and brilliant at a glance when you don’t think to question it deeper beyond ‘Why the fuck does that stage girl have MULTIPLE GUNS’, yet they both completely crumble under scrutiny without support. Her weapons are telling enough of abundant potential for brilliance if channeled into her growth as an individual stage girl; hell, she’s the only one from Frontier to be considered a stage girl at all at the start of Chapter 10. But moving forward by herself, for herself, isn’t what she wants from being on stage. Aruru doesn’t want to participate in the revues on her own or compete with the others for the lead role. She doesn’t want to be apart from her family. She doesn’t want to confront her own emptiness and lack of identity made manifest in the very place she sought out to escape it.

Still, there’s only so far she can go, only so many rules of the stage she can change on the fly, before facing that situation is inevitable.

I don’t have anything to say for this point that isn’t blatantly in the text. Please read Arcana Arcadia. Please. Please.

If the Starira weapons were designed with the intent of reflecting the stage girls they belong to like Seisho’s, I firmly believe that Aruru’s development in Arcana Arcadia would be enough to warrant some kind of change to her weapon in a similar vein to Hikari in episode 8, were it not for the amount of work and subsequent issues implementing that into the game itself would cause. I don’t know exact details of how it would work or what would change, but there’s absolutely enough development to prompt it. Out of all the development in ALL OF STARIRA for everyone across the board, Aruru is the only character who gets an ‘I am reborn’ sequence. Ever. (Which I don’t think people talk about enough, by the way) I think that alone speaks for itself as to the magnitude of growth she undergoes.

Also I don’t have a fancy segway into this but there’s something to be said about the actual mechanism of firing a gun involving high pressure explosions when Revue Frontier is Aruru Otsuki herself being put under high pressure and exploding. Honestly I think she should have exploded more considering the amount of buildup but. That’s a thought for another day.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk I enjoy being mentally unwell over Frontier School of Arts a lot. Goodnight everybody. Watch Revue Starlight, read Arcana Arcadia, listen to Yami o Terasumono, and tune in next time to Pallastronomy for ‘Wall of text about my thoughts on Aruru Otsuki as potentially having BPD’ if I ever get around to writing it

I love the symbolism of the weapons in the revue starlight! They say so much about the characters and their attitude towards performing and the revues.

You can understand a character in an entirely new light!

Aruru Otsuki what the FUC-

[kamipyre]

@bloodxhound​ sent in: [ word of advice ; self-defense lesson < 3 ] “If you wanna throw a proper punch, you gotta put your whole body in it—not just your arms. Try again, but this time start the punch with your feet. Pivot on your back leg an’ twist your hips into the punch. That’s how you make it powerful.” || advice that’ll go for miles ( ft. word of advice meme. )

In all technicalities, this is all SUKI’S DOING. Since most of their work is done in the lab, forensics don’t have a physical to pass, unlike the detectives and police officers with their yearly examination. It makes sense, really- considering the kinds of witnesses that take the stand, being physically fit is almost a necessity if the court hopes to get any kind of progress done. And knowing what more often than not happens in these trials, Suki is more than happy to let detectives like Ray take the reins in these situations. 

That and she knows. Has heard the rumors and perhaps when she isn’t too engrossed in her papers, has seen firsthand the kind of…taskmaster he is when it comes to training. For someone who commits vandalism often enough, Detective Barlowe is quite regimented when comes to keeping in shape. Not that she’s seen him at the GYM ( a place Suki herself would never step foot in voluntarily ), but considering that when she has seen his desk, the gym bag is always there…she can’t imagine him bringing it along just for show.

That being said though. 

Her hands aching, she glares at the punching bag she’s been ‘sparring’ for the past half hour or so. It would be safe to say, the bag is ‘winning’ thus far since it has barely moved an inch, let alone made a sound. Her arms are also aching and the rest of her body feels like lead. Is this supposed to be the end result of a gym session? 

( If it is, how is that supposed to be ENJOYABLE? )

A foot nudges her feet into what Ray deems as proper stance- which makes no sense to Suki by the way. If the point of throwing a punch is to use one’s arm, why does footwork matter? Spy x Family made it seem so much easier…Nevertheless, after a few practice strokes with her leg and arm, she pivots with her back leg and follows through from her hips to her hand throwing the punch. The movement foreign to her, she stumbles a step before in the aftermath…but it’s accompanied by the sound of a punching bag groaning. It swings a little more unhinged than in the aftermath of her previous attempts. 

With bright eyes, she turns excitedly toward Ray.

“I did it!”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Fighting the privacy wars, state by state

In 2021, Apple updated its mobile OS so that users could opt out of app tracking with one click. More than 96% opted out, costing Facebook $10b in one year. The kicker? Even if you opted out, Apple continued to spy on you, just as invasively as Facebook had, as part of its competing targeted ad product:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/23/state-of-play/#patchwork

The fact that Apple — a company that has blanketed the world with anti-surveillance billboards — engaged in deceptive, pervasive surveillance reveals the bankruptcy of “letting the market decide” what privacy protections you should have.

When you walk into a grocery store, you know that the FDA is on the job, making sure that the food you buy doesn’t kill you — but no one stops the grocery store from tracking literally every step you take, every eye movement you make (no, really!) and selling that to all comers:

https://themarkup.org/privacy/2023/02/16/forget-milk-and-eggs-supermarkets-are-having-a-fire-sale-on-data-about-you

America’s decision to let the private sector self-regulate commercial surveillance is a grotesque failure of duty on the part of Congress, which has consistently failed to pass comprehensive privacy legislation. There are lots of reasons for this, but the most important is that American cops and spies are totally reliant on commercial surveillance brokers, and they fight like hell against any privacy legislation:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/13/public-interest-pharma/#axciom

The private sector’s unregulated privacy free-for-all means that cops don’t need to get warrants to spy on you — they can just buy the data on the open market for pennies:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/18/fifth-pig/#ppp

The last Congressional session almost passed a halfway decent (but still deeply flawed) federal privacy law, but then they didn’t. Basically, Congress only passes laws that can be sandwiched into 1,000-page must-pass bills and most of the good stuff that gets through only does so because some bought-and-paid-for Congressjerks are too busy complaining about “woke librarians” to read the bills before they come up for a vote.

The catastrophic failure to protect Americans’ privacy has sent human rights groups hunting for other means to accomplish the same end. On the federal level, there’s the newly reinvigorated FTC, under the visionary, muscular leadership of Lina Khan, the best Commission chair in a generation. She’s hard at work on rules to limit commercial surveillance:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/12/regulatory-uncapture/#conscious-uncoupling

But FTC regs take time to pass, and it can be hard for ordinary individuals to trigger their enforcement, which might leave you at the mercy of your local officials when your privacy is invaded. What we really need is a privacy law with a “private right of action” — the right to go to court on your own:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/01/you-should-have-right-sue-companies-violate-your-privacy

The business lobby hates private right of action, and they trick low-information voters into opposing them with lies about “ambulance chasers” who sue innocent fast-food outlets for millions because they serve coffee that’s too hot:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/hot-coffee/#mcgeico

With Congress deadlocked and privacy harms spiraling, pro-privacy groups have turned to the states, as Alfred Ng writes for Politico:

https://www.politico.com/news/2023/02/22/statehouses-privacy-law-cybersecurity-00083775

The best provisions of the failed federal privacy law have been introduced as state legislation in Massachusetts and Illinois, and there are amendments to Indiana’s existing state privacy law — 16 states in all are working on or have some kind of privacy law. This means businesses must live with the dread “patchwork of laws,” which serves the business lobby right: they must do business in potentially radically different ways in different states, and small missteps could cost them millions, in true fuck-around-and-find-out fashion.

As Ng writes, these laws don’t have to pass in every state. America’s historically contingent, lopsided state lines mean that some states are so populous that whatever rules they pass end up going nationwide (the ACLU’s Kade Crockford uses the example of California Prop 65 warnings showing up on canned goods in NY).

As Congress descends further into self-parody, the temptation to treat the federal government as damage and route around it only mounts. It’s a powerful, but imperfect strategy. On the negative side, it takes a lot of resources to introduce legislation into multiple states, and to win legislative fights in each.

Think of the incredible fuckery that the coalition of Apple, John Deere, Wahl, and other monopolists got up to defeat dozens of state Right to Repair laws, even snatching victory from the jaws of defeat in New York state, neutering the incredible state electronics repair law before it reached the governor’s desk:

https://www.techdirt.com/2023/02/17/more-details-on-how-tech-lobbyists-lobotomized-nys-right-to-repair-law-with-governor-kathy-hochuls-help/

Indeed, the business lobby loves lobbying statehouses, treating them as the Feds’ farm-leagues, filled with naive, easily hoodwinked rubes. Organizations like ALEC use their endless corporate funding to get state legislation that piles farce upon tragedy, like the laws banning municipal fiber networks:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/15/useful-idiotsuseful-idiots/#unrequited-love

The right has always had hooks in state legislatures, but they really opened up the sluice gates in the runup to the 2010 census, when a GOP strategist called Thomas Hofeller started pitching Republican operatives on a plan called REDMAP, to capture state legislatures in time for a post-2010 census mass-redistricting that would neutralize the votes of Black and brown people and deliver permanent rule by an openly white nationalist Republican party that could lose every popular vote and still hold power.

Of course, that’s not how they talked about it in public. Though the racial dimension of GOP gerrymandering were visible to anyone on the ground, Hofeller maintained a veneer of plausible deniability on the new REDMAP districts, leaving the racist intent of GOP redistricting as a he-said/she-said matter of conjecture:

https://www.klfy.com/national/late-gop-redistricting-gurus-files-hint-at-partisan-motives/

That is, until 2018, when Satan summoned Hofeller back to hell, leaving his personal effects in the hands of his estranged anarchist daughter, Stephanie, who dumped all her old man’s files online, including the powerpoint slides he delivered to his GOP colleagues where he basically said, “Hey kids, let’s do an illegal racism!”

https://www.vice.com/en/article/pked4v/the-anarchist-daughter-of-the-gops-gerrymandering-mastermind-just-dumped-all-his-maps-and-files-on-google-drive

Sometimes, laws that turn on intent are difficult to enforce because they require knowledge of the accused’s state of mind. But there are so many would-be supervillains who just can’t stop themselves from monologing, and worse, putting it in writing.

As bad as state politics can be, they’re still winnable battlefields. Last year saw a profound win on Right to Repair in Colorado, where a wheelchair repair bill, HB22–1031, made history:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/06/when-drm-comes-your-wheelchair

That win helped inspire Rebecca Giblin and I when we were writing Chokepoint Capitalism, our book about how Big Tech and Big Content rip off creative workers, and what to do about it.

https://chokepointcapitalism.com

Many readers have noted that the first half of the book — where were unpack the scams of streaming, news advertising, ebooks and audiobooks, and other creative fields — is incredibly enraging.

But if you find yourself struggling to concentrate on the book because of a persistent, high-pitched whining noise that you suspect might be a rage-induced incipient aneurysm, keep reading! The second half of the book is full of detailed, shovel-ready policy proposals to get artists paid, including a state legislative proposal that works from the same playbook as these state privacy laws.

If your creative work entitles you to receive royalties, your contract will typically include the right to audit your royalty statements. If you do audit your royalties, you will often find “discrepancies.” We cite one LA firm that has performed tens of thousands of record contract audits over decades, and in every instance except one, the errors they discovered were in the labels’ favor.

This is a hell of a head-scratcher. I can only assume that some kind of extremely vexing, highly localized probability storm has taken up permanent residence over the Big Three labels’ accounting departments, making life hell for their CPAs, and my heart goes out to them.

Anyway: if you find one of these errors and you tell your label or publisher or studio, “Hey, you stole my money, cough up!” they will pat you on the head and say, “Oh, you artists are adorable but you can’t do math. You’re mistaken, we don’t owe you anything. But because we’re good natured slobs, we’ll offer you, say, half of what you think we owe you, which is good, because you can’t afford to sue us. And all you need to do to get that money is to sign this non-disclosure agreement, meaning you can’t tell anyone else about the money we’re stealing from them.

“Oh, and one more thing: your accountant has to promise never to audit us again.” As Caldwell-Kelly said when we talked about this on Trashfuture, this is like the accused murderer telling the forensics team, “Dig anywhere you’d like in my garden, just not in that corner, I’m very sentimental about it.”

https://trashfuturepodcast.podbean.com/e/amazon-billing-amazon-for-amazon-feat-cory-doctorow-and-rebecca-giblin/

Now, contracts are a matter of state law, and nearly every entertainment industry contract is signed in one of four jurisdictions: NY, CA, TN (Nashville), and WA (games companies and Amazon). If we amended the state laws in one or more of these to say, “NDAs can’t be enforced when they pertain to wage theft arising from omissions or misstatements on royalties,” we could pour money into the pockets of creative workers all over the world.

Yes, the entertainment giants will fight like hell against this, and yes, they have a lot of juice in their state legislatures. But they’re also incredibly greedy and reckless, and prone to such breathtaking and brazen acts of wage theft that they lurch from crisis to crisis, and at each of these crises, there is a space to pass a law to address these very public failings.

For example, in 2022, the Writers Guild of America — one of the best, most principled, most solidaristic and unified unions in Hollywood — wrested $42 million from Netflix, which the company had stolen from its writers:

https://variety.com/2022/film/news/wga-wins-42-million-arbitration-netflix-1235333822/

Netflix isn’t alone in these massive acts of wage theft, and this is certainly not the only way Netflix is stealing from creative workers. There’s never just one ant: if Netflix cooked the books for writers, they’re definitely cooking it for other workers. That means there will be more scandals, and when they break, we can demand more than a bandaid fix for one crime — we can demand modest-but-critical legislative action to fix contracts and prevent this kind of wage-theft in the future.

The state legislatures aren’t an intrinsically better battlefield for just fights, but they are an alternative to Congress, and there is space to make things happen in just some of the 50 state houses that can ripple out over the whole country — for good and bad.

[Image ID: Blind justice, holding aloft a set of unbalanced scales; in the lower scale is a map of the USA showing the state lines; in the higher scale rests the capitol building.]

[ellynneversweet]

So I have been reading takes on the Mercy Thompson books (this fandom is tiny! But, alas, trashy fave) and there’s a lot of discourse about whether the earlier books in the series are better than the later books. Now, I think there’s been a bit of a fall-off in the writing style in the last few books but, separately from that, there’s an argument about whether Mercy was a cooler/better/more interesting character before she got married.

To which I say: hmmmm, because IMO the huge, overarching theme of these books is power understood as parenthood.

(But Ellyn, Mercy hasn’t had a baby after fourteen books! Certain segments of fandom are so bitter about it. Anna got a baby after five minutes books. Yes, I know. That’s not the point.)

My point is that Mercy’s a grown up foster kid, and yes, while she had a fairly good run of things as that goes, and a good 4/6 of her parental figures are still around, the central tension of her character is that the lesson that she learned as an adolescent was that she had to be self-reliant, and her instinctive, driving response to this as an adult that that being vulnerable and alone fucking sucks and she’s going to make sure no one else she runs across ends up in that situation. Hence the many kids she’s a mostly Responsible Adult to. (Tad, Jesse, Mac, Gabriel, Aidan.)

So far, so good. Unforch for Mercy, there’s more to being king than getting your way all the time. She ends up being responsible for people and finds out that oh shit that means she’s responsible for them and can’t just do whatever she wants all the time.

So there’s an issue here where Mercy’s constantly gaining power by various means (mostly coalition building, some by being an agent of divine chaos) and finding out to her irritation that what makes the difference between a hero and a villain is, once she’s got that power, whether she’s willing to ignore other people/steamroll over the top of them or whether she’ll make the effort to accommodate their needs and perspectives.

It’s not, imo, a coincidence that the great powers in the Mercyverse are, mostly, parents (and of those, mostly fathers — which is part patriarchy and part this series has some serious internalised misogyny going on). Adam and Bran arguably go beyond being mere Dads and end up in full blown pater familias mode, with corresponding freak outs from their many, very competent dependants when they take five minutes for themselves.

So yeah, independent Mercy is fun, but Mercy in charge and annoyed about it is a natural progression of her characterisation.

TL;DR: Fire Touched is Mercy at her Mercyest coming face to face with a foil of her younger self (Aidan) and promptly adopting him, only to realise that being her parent was probably really hard.

[robininthelabyrinth]

CQL-verse! The characters have the same age gaps between them as their actors and actresses! Wwx and Jyl are the same age, jc is 5 years younger than them. Lxc is 3 years younger than wwx&jyl and lwj is 3 years younger than him. Nmj is two years older than wwx&jyl and nhs is 8 years younger than him and the same age as lwj. (1/2)

Meng Yao is 2 years older than nhs and jzx is 2 years older than MY. I'm leaving the Wen Sibs out of this because otherwise WN would be the same age as wwx and WQ would be 4 years younger than him. But hey! If you want to go with that, go crazy! I was thinking more of Yunmeng Sibs focus, but I will be happy with anything! (2/2)

ao3

Untamed

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect to the point of death and war, but he had always had trouble hating sad and gentle Wen Ning.

Wen Ning was technically his peer – there were only two years between them in age – and therefore capable of the same sorts of responsibilities and duties towards righteousness as Nie Mingjue, meaning that he ought to hate him as much as all the rest. But at the same time, Wen Ning was only part of the main branch family indirectly, a ward of Wen Ruohan; he was constantly suppressed and even tormented by Wen Chao, the eldest son of that family. If anything, it seemed almost as if he’d been brought into the family just to act as the family’s scapegoat, the inferior copy that was so hapless that he made that self-indulgent hedonist Wen Chao appear somewhat competent in contrast.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t imagine treating any of his own cousins that way.

He and Wen Chao were often compared, both being about the same age, and their young brothers were of similar age as well, both of them only fourteen; this juxtaposition made sure that every single person in the cultivation world talk of them in the same breath. Nie Mingjue always came out the better in the comparison, and Wen Xu the same for his, which in the minds of most people balanced out, but which caused Wen Chao no end of rage. He knew he couldn’t take out his anger on the talented Wen Xu and so took out on poor Wen Ning instead.

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect.

He did not hate Wen Ning.

Wen Ning, who should not be here.

“Please,” Wen Ning said, nearly in tears, as he threw himself down to the floor in front of Nie Mingjue. He’d burst into the room in the inn Nie Mingjue was staying at, the guards that no sect leader could do without no matter what they wanted following close behind in alarm until Nie Mingjue had waved them off with a gesture; he’d been panting so hard that he’d only just now caught his breath. “Please help this useless older brother do one good thing with his life.”

Alarmed, Nie Mingjue reached out and caught Wen Ning by the shoulders, pulling him to stand and even forgetting himself enough to reach forward with a sleeve to dab away the tears staining the other man’s face.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling anxiety curdling in his gut. He’d spoken with Wen Ning before during the discussion conferences, both when he was younger and even, in a few stolen moments, after he became sect leader; he knew Wen Ning had a steady personality, if a weak one from all the bullying he endured, and that he was not given to unnecessary hysterics. If he could tolerate Wen Chao’s endless torment with a faint smile and a don’t worry sect leader Nie once you’re used to it it’s more funny than anything else, then what could make him act like this? “What is that you need help with? I do not understand.”

Wen Ning looked tired. He always had, his health had always been poor, but now it seemed worse than ever; there were circles under his eyes, and Nie Mingjue had no idea how he’d managed to get away from the Nightless City to come find him. The town he was currently in was close to the border the Qinghe Nie shared with Qishan Wen, but it was still an effort, especially for someone like Wen Ning. He might be a member of the Wen family by name, but his freedom was significantly curtailed, and it wasn’t only because he was sickly.

“My little sister is going to be attending the lectures at the Cloud Recesses,” Wen Ning said.

“The - Lan sect lectures?” Nie Mingjue repeated blankly. It was a stupid thing to say; of course it was the Lan sect’s lectures, who else would give lectures at the Cloud Recesses? And yet, at the same time – “The Wen sect hasn’t gone to them in generations.”

“Sect Leader Wen asked A-Qing to look for something,” Wen Ning said. “I don’t know what. He talks to her more than he talks to me, when she’s treating him with acupuncture and other such things – he only wants blood relations treating him now, so she’s passing along what she can do, the doctors all say she’s talented – he told her something, I think, but I don’t know what, he doesn’t talk to me…and she doesn’t talk to me, either.”

“She’s sixteen, they’re like that,” Nie Mingjue said, trying to offer comfort, but he didn’t like the sound of that – Wen Ruohan growing reliant on the medical skills of a teenager, talking with her as if she were an adult…it didn’t speak well to the Chief Cultivator’s state of mind. “So she’s going to go spy on them?”

“She is. And maybe more. There’s – there’s something back in the Nightless City, something Sect Leader Wen is refining in order to increase his power. Whatever it is, it’s powerful and evil.” Wen Ning looked paler than usual, somehow. “It was something that was kept in a cave near our village when we were younger, once. Sect Leader Wen took it away to study, and it made something go crazy, I got hurt, and my parents – anyway, it doesn’t matter. I can’t go near it without losing my senses, so I really don’t know anything about it. But I know that Sect Leader Wen only has a piece – and the Lan sect has another.”

Lan Xichen had never mentioned such a thing, but then again, he wasn’t really old enough that Nie Mingjue would expect him to know everything about his sect – he was after all a full five years younger than Nie Mingjue, three years younger than Wen Ning; he was still only seventeen, having only just graduated from his uncle’s classes the year before. He was only very technically sect leader, in the same way Nie Mingjue had only been technically sect leader after his father’s death, although unlike Lan Xichen Nie Mingjue had fought his way to step up to the task for real early on. He himself was only barely considered an adult at the age of twenty-two; it was no surprise that in the Lan sect, which had Lan Qiren to rely on, Lan Xichen might not know it all.

Or perhaps he knew, and simply didn’t say. Each sect was entitled to its secrets.

“What are you thinking?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“I’m thinking that my sister is constantly afraid for me, even though she’s younger than me,” Wen Ning said solemnly. “I’m thinking that she will break her own principles into pieces to protect me. I’m thinking that she’ll find whatever it is, or find a hint to it, and then Wen Chao will take his forces to burn the Cloud Recesses to the ground in search of it.”

Nie Mingjue could see that.

He didn’t want to, but he could.

“My brother is attending those lectures,” he said blankly. Nie Huaisang was there right now. He could be in danger – no, he would be in danger. Nie Huaisang wasn’t a good cultivator, and at fourteen, he was just a baby. Nie Mingjue had sent Meng Yao with him, nominally as his attendant, but in fact to get the benefit of the classes himself and also bully Nie Huaisang into actually learning something – he’d brought Meng Yao into the Nie sect after Jin Zixuan, full of guilt over how his father had treated a boy only two years his junior, had sent him a letter beseeching him for help following Meng Yao’s public and humiliating rejection from Jinlin Tower – but Meng Yao was only sixteen, of age with Wen Qing; what could he really do?

Moreover, sending Wen Qing and not Wen Xu, even though Wen Xu was the same age as Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji, indicated that Wen Ruohan didn’t want his more promising son to get involved in whatever it was that he was planning, or maybe in whatever consequences followed. If Wen Chao really were to try something violent, they couldn’t afford to have a weakness already there…

“I need to get A-Qing out of the Wen sect,” Wen Ning said, and Nie Mingjue turned to look at him in shock. “Permanently. I’ve begged her to go, but she won’t leave me, she won’t leave our family of the Dafan Wen, but she has to. Something bad is going to happen soon. I know it. I don’t mind trading my life for hers, but she has to live.”

“Is there any way you can go to the Cloud Recesses as well?” Nie Mingjue asked, his mind already racing. He’d long ago given up on helping Wen Ning because he knew the other man wouldn’t turn traitor against his family, being an upright and filial child, but if his family had reached such a depth of corruption as that, then it was only right to leave them behind. If Wen Ning was finally accepting that, maybe there was something he could do. “You’re sensitive to the – whatever it is. Right? Maybe Wen Qing can suggest bringing you around to help her find her way to it.”

“How would that help?”

“It gets you somewhere safe, while I can rescue Dafan Wen – without a threat to you or to them, your sister would have no reason to insist on staying,” Nie Mingjue said, though it wouldn’t be him, exactly, that did the rescue – he’d need a firm alibi lest Wen Ruohan use it as an excuse to start something with his Nie sect. He might have prepared for war as much as he could, but the Wen sect was still stronger; if war broke out, he needed to make sure that he had the moral high ground.

Luckily, Wei Wuxian, that walking calamity of a head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, had of late developed the habit of wandering over to visit various other sects, including Qinghe (and Nie Mingjue in specific), at his leisure, and no one ever would think to blame him for such a strange thing as a subsidiary sect of distant Wen sect cousins disappearing.

After all, Wei Wuxian had no reason to know or care about the Dafan Wen, and everyone knew he abjured politics completely, violently and repetitively, so as to make no mistake about anyone who might otherwise see him as competition for the Jiang sect’s true heir, Jiang Cheng. The five-year gap between their ages kept them from being compared – you couldn’t expect a child, and at fifteen Jiang Cheng was still very much a child, to keep up with an adult just turned twenty like Wei Wuxian – but there had always been whispers given everything with Cangse Sanren, and Wei Wuxian had had to work very hard to put a stop to them.

Wei Wuxian’s wandering habit had started back when he’d been trying to find Jiang Yanli a new fiancée to replace the engagement he’d broken by fighting with Jin Zixuan, however shameful it was for him to fight with a boy two years his junior. It was for that that he had come to Qinghe to meet Nie Mingjue, leading to them hitting it off as friends despite Nie Mingjue expressing that he had absolutely no interest in getting married to Jiang Yanli, or indeed to any nice young lady at all; then, in turn, Nie Mingjue had brought him to the Lan sect to meet Lan Xichen. They’d gotten along as well, although the most notable outcome of that visit had been little Lan Wangji developing a crush on his elder brother’s new friend while Wei Wuxian remained blissfully oblivious. His wanderings had continued even after Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had found their way back to each other, affianced once again through their own choice rather than their parents’.

Said parents had not yet been informed of this new situation, as they were waiting for the right time to mention it. Or perhaps more accurately, the right situation to exploit with it…

Now, Nie Mingjue thought. Now was the time. It would work perfectly.

And not just as a distraction.

“Are you sure…?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said. “Whatever it is, Wen Ruohan must be kept from obtaining all of the pieces; he’s already too powerful, and more power will only make him more arrogant. I’ll speak with Lan Qiren. Once I take the Dafan Wen back to the Nie sect, your sister will be able to testify to whatever it is that she was asked to search for, which will give Lan Qiren the evidence he needs to get his sect’s approval for retaliatory measures. Moreover, using Wei Wuxian to help me will force Jiang Fengmian to support me as well; there’s no way he’d ever refuse to back him to the hilt.”

“The Jin sect –”

“Will join us,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan’s yet-to-be-announced engagement. Once Jin Guangshan realized that he would be pulled into the same boat as the rest of them whether he wanted to or not, any resistance he had would crumble like a structure made of sand being beaten down by the tide. “They won’t have a choice. Is there anything else I should know?”

“There’s a child,” Wen Ning said, biting his lips. “Around the same age as your brother or my sister, or maybe the Jiang sect heir, I don’t know, around that. He helps Sect Leader Wen with whatever he’s doing.”

“A child helps him?”

Nie Mingjue didn’t like the sound of that.

“I don’t know. Some secret his family knows, I think…his surname is Xue.”

Nie Mingjue frowned.

“I don’t know much about him,” Wen Ning added. “Only that he has some history with the Yueyang Chang clan. Bad history.”

“That’s a good start,” Nie Mingjue said. He realized that he hadn’t yet released Wen Ning’s shoulders, and gave them a small squeeze before doing so. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will do everything I can to help you.”

Wen Ning looked at him with admiration in his eyes, making Nie Mingjue feel a little hot under the collar.

“Thank you, Chifeng-zun,” he murmured, and Nie Mingjue shook his head.

“Call me by name,” he said, and tried to smile. “You’ll be here a lot in the future, if all goes well.”

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect, but he didn’t hate gentle and sad Wen Ning.

He didn’t hate him at all.

[watchingtheunivereeexpand]

Amity Blight (Enneagram Analysis)

From The Owl House by Dana Terrace/Disney

Type: 3w4 Subtype: sp/so Tritype: 316 Enneagram Analysis Masterlist

-> TYPE: 3w4

Core Desire: of being valuable, worthy, and successful.

Core Fear: of failure, defeat, not being enough or worthy.

Type Threes are extremely image-conscious and task-focused. They want to feel appreciated, so they overwork themselves and set high goals to feel worthy of it. They're ambitious, dedicated, and hardworking, putting too much of their self-esteem on being the best. Amity's Four wing makes her more introverted, distant, and prone to comparing herself to others.

She desintegrates onto Nine. Here, Amity neglects herself because, in her mind, she's not working as hard as she should. She has trouble making her own decisions, instead numbing herself to her own feelings and allowing others to make decisions for her, particularly Odalia. Her Integration point, however, is Six. Here, she becomes truly confident and sure of herself, allowing herself to be vulnerable and trusting that others won't take advantage of her, like a healthy Six.

-> SUBTYPE: sp/so

Amity's primary instinctual drive is the self-preservation one, which focuses on safety, material security, and such. Self-Preservation Threes typically appear calm and composed on the outside, but are innerly anxious and worried that they might not be enough. They want to be the best at whatever they're doing, the best student, the best daughter, an awesome girlfriend. Despite this, they try their best to appear modest as to not be seen as vain. That makes it particularly hard for Amity to verbalize her insecurities, so she becomes self-reliant, hardworking and dedicated to her support system. Her parents, for example, fueled her toxic traits, but her new friends and girlfriend see the good in her, which leads her to her integration point in Eclipse Lake.

Her secondary instinctual drive is the social one, which wants to work towards a shared goal with your community and to belong. Social Threes want to move up in the world, to be influencial and admired as well as secure. They want to be competent and look good while they're at it. This clashes with Amity's primary drive; she wanted, especially in season 1, to appear modest to her teachers and parents, but had no problem being mean to the people she dislikes.

-> TRITYPE: 316

Amity's heart fix is 3. As well as her primary type, it handles shame by only showing the world the best part of yourself. Why should she be ashamed? She's the most successful, the most popular, the most deserving of whatever she puts her mind in. In Covention, we see that persona breaking. She was trying so hard to be the best, then she was publicly humiliated and it all came crashing down, which leads us to her body fix.

Her body fix is 1. It handles anger by trying to justify it. Amity doesn't think her emotions, particularly anger, can stand by themselves, so she looks for excuses: in IWATA, her first appearance, she was shaking Luz because she was pretending to be an abomination! In Covention, it's because Luz cheated to win a battle, admit it, you cheated! It upholds the One's need for perfection; they grasp the notion that their negative emotions and behavior are ethical and justified.

Her mind fix is 6. It handles fear by being suspicious and alert, by seeking out a support system. First, it was her parents and her old friends, then her new group, as discussed with her subtype. She used to think that success and perfection were the only ways to earn her security, but let go of that notion in Eclipse Lake.

[juvinile]

* HALEY  LU  RICHARDSON ,  CIS FEMALE  +  SHE / HER  |   you  know  EDEN  ROMANOV ,  right ?  they’re  TWENTY - THREE ,  and  they’ve  lived  in  irving  for ,  like ,  ON  AND  OFF  THEIR  WHOLE  LIFE ?  well ,  their  spotify  wrapped  says  they  listened  to  SAFE  PLACES  BY  CASSIDY  KING  like ,  a  million  times  this  year ,  which  makes  sense  ‘cause  they’ve  got  that  whole  LACING  YOUR  MARY  JANES  SO  TIGHTLY  THEY  LEAVE  MARKS ,  WIND  BLOWN  SILK  OVERSHIRTS ,  STRANDS  OF  FRESH  CUT  HAIR  LEFT  ABANDONED  IN  THE  SINK  TO  WILT  thing  going  on .  i  just  checked  and  their  birthday  is  SEPTEMBER  16TH ,  so  they’re  a  VIRGO ,  which  is  unsurprising ,  all  things  considered .

TW  INCLUDE  internalized homophobia tw, homophobia tw.

AESTHETICS :

lacing your mary janes so tightly they leave marks, wind blown silk overshirts, strands of fresh cut hair left abandoned in the sink to wilt, light academia compulsions, using pressed petals with the thorns left sharp as bookmarks, falling apart inside the safety of your own room, putting yourself back together in a broken mirror, tight ponytails and tighter features, stretching yourself thin as elastic, bittersweet pomegranate, strawberry chapstick layered over clear lipgloss, reading the wrong script, world domination.

CHARACTER  INSPO :

hermione granger (harry potter), cameron post (the miseducation of cameron post), the white rabbit (alice in wonderland), martha gellhorn (hemingway and gellhorn), dolores abernathy (westworld), nina sayers (black swan), emily dickinson (dickinson), caitlin park (the infinite noise), margaery tyrell (game of thrones) 

GENERAL STATISTICS :

full name :  eden anastasia romanov

age / dob :  twenty threee / september 16th

gender :  cis female

pronouns :  she / her

faceclaim :  haley lu richardson

orientation :  homosexual / lesbian

residence :  port apartments

occupation :  intern in the mayor’s office

pinterest :  HERE !

BIOGRAPHY :

eden anastasia romanov. born and raised in irving (though at times it felt like the romanovs lived in behind the walls of their own private castle, operated a few steps ahead of everyone else. eden ate it up), eden was one of the younger romanov’s. her father, vaughn romanov, was a senator who recently decided to run for town mayor and her mother, adelaide romanov, was a philanthropist.

she always always always looked up to her eldest sibling, cain. it seems this was a common thread for the romanov siblings see abel.  (played by james and bri blows a kiss)

very much born with a silver spoon so far up her rear, she was always her father’s precious angel. very much her father’s daughter. she knew cain was the one with all of the pressure but this only drove her to crave success more. she was determined to make her parents proud, even if the weight on her shoulders was completely self imposed. all her parents wanted from her career wise was to marry well and look pretty. more on this trauma later.

her and her siblings were expected to be more than involved in school and their community. she was a cheerleader and a gymnast, top of her class, president of the debate team, sang in the church choir. she was a perfect smiling face for her mother’s philanthropy events and stood next to her siblings at all of her father’s rallies. she played two instruments and spoke as many languages. she made it look easy.

there wasn’t very much time for eden to make friends. she only had a handful, girls she’d grown up with in the gymnastics gym, and she knew people that gravitated towards her really only had their eyes on her family’s money. (erm. maybe thats just ur weird trust issues eden but idk im not a therapist) because of this, she was exceptionally reliant on her siblings. they were the only ones who understood what it was like to be spread so thin you snapped.

(homophobia tw) she was the first of her family to spark controversy, though it never got out, when her mother caught her kissing a girl from her cheer squad in her car parked in front of their house. though her parents didn’t fully mind, this news would be bad for her father’s campaign so eden wasn’t given a say. the romanov’s would make it go away. she still had to appeal to the wealthy sons of her parent’s aristocratic friends. you couldn’t really do that with your tongue down a girl’s throat, now, could you e? 

her father bribed the girl’s mother to take her daughter off the cheer team. this was also the day eden decided she would be a politician. there was no question. she couldn’t feel helpless anymore. was it equal parts about besting her father for making her best friend go away? perhaps. eden wouldn’t admit that. she wouldn’t admit a lot of things.

deeply liberal. a stark contrast to the republican (centrist. but still.) values of her parents. a rift was drawn between her and her parents. she was no longer her father’s little girl. she wasn’t the romanov that could do no wrong. she was yet another family black sheep, who had a lot of making up to do if she wanted back in wealth’s good graces. she felt abandoned by her parents, an issue that she would grapple with for the rest of her life. (end of tw)

her grades dropped after this. she considered running away but in the end she graduated high school. she wasn’t valedictorian like she had always hoped, but salutatorian still looked good on college apps. eden was never known for giving up, but she wasn’t usually known for coming in second place either.

it was really hard for her when cain left to.. wherever it was they went off to. (she’s still afraid to ask) she was in college, pursuing a political science degree, and she suffered more than she would ever let on. she didn’t sleep much at all, the entire year. she accomplished very little, focused solely on keeping up the image she’d worked so hard to craft. if she could survive this she could survive anything.

screech (the sound of tires coming to a halt). cain came back. conveniently, eden made the decision to take a gap year and come back for a second senior year at university. it wasn’t related. she did this for herself. (she didn’t)

cain didn’t remember her when they came back. nothing hurt worse than this.

she’s going through a lot right now. she’ll b fine. 

don’t know where to fit this in but she owns a cat named lady d named after her role model princess diana. she’s mean and bites people a lot but eden thinks it’s endearing.

PERSONALITY :

determined. type a. organized. studious. go getter. tenacious. shrill. hot tempered. prone to fantasy. escapist. withdrawn. tightly wound. deeply in need of catching a break. ankle biter energy. ruthless and bloodthirsty, can and will destroy anything that gets in her way? stuck in her head. strives so hard for perfection, low self esteem. unforgiving with mistakes. especially her own. thinks she doesn’t need anyone else. really really needs someone else. indulgent. likes luxury and doesn’t apologize for it, but isn’t loud about it either. princess locked in a tower waiting for her knight in shining armor energy. does this make sense.

WANTED CONNECTIONS : 

other irving hs students her age that were also really hard workers in school. the people she competed with and also competed alongside. 

other members of the cheer team. first girl kiss anyone? first girl kiss? 

siobhan is her ex girlfriend from college that she broke up with because of all the internalized homophobia. does this spark any connections? lmk. 

a boy she’s dating to appease her parents. not sure if she’s doing it to get them off her backs or because she really wants to prove herself to them. probably both. 

hi hookups anyone? she might be pretending to date a guy but that doesn’t mean she’s a sadist. let’s have fun. 

ok who sells her weed. god knows she needs it. 

anyone who grew up going to her mother’s events. suffering through stuffy socializing together. eden was really good at it it was probably annoying. 

does anyone need a roommate in port? she’s really clean and keeps to herself but her cat does bite. warning. her cat does bite. 

anything else i can’t think of but. i’m sure there’s more.

[invisibleicewands]

Michael Sheen on becoming a Faith Healer to save theatre

For many, it is his greatest play. Northern Irish playwright Brian Friel’s Faith Healer (1979) is a haunting and transfixing piece of theatre: a drama that shape-shifts as tantalisingly as memory. And, like all masterpieces, it feels both timeless and timely. Yet, says actor Michael Sheen, who plays lead character Frank in a new live-streamed performance opening tonight at London’s Old Vic, “When it first came out there was a big discussion about whether it was even dramatic at all.” “I find that extraordinary,” he adds. “It’s one of the most thrilling theatrical experiences I’ve had.” On the surface, it’s certainly simple: a series of monologues on a near-empty stage. Three narrators — Frank, the itinerant Irish “faith healer” of the title; Grace, his wife; Teddy, his cockney manager — address us separately, recalling their ramshackle lives on the road, as they traipsed round remote parts of Scotland and Wales trying to drum up business with a shabby poster. Each character takes their turn in the limelight. At the Old Vic, Sheen heads up a stellar cast, with Indira Varma playing Grace and David Threlfall taking the part of Teddy. But what begins straightforwardly soon develops the grip of a detective story. We gradually realise that the trio’s recollections don’t add up: each monologue sheds new — sometimes shocking — light on the earlier ones. Frank appears more complex with each telling. And as the audience pieces together the fragments of information, the play delicately exposes the fragility of memory, the power of narrative and the hunger for meaning. “They were a despairing people,” says Frank at one point, recalling the lost and lonely souls who would turn up in dank village halls on dark winter evenings in the hope of cure, resolution or benediction. The Old Vic staging arrives at a time when uncertainty is the order of the day and a piece composed of competing narratives and disputed facts feels acutely relatable. Meanwhile the question that hovers around the charismatic Frank — genius or conman? — also hits home now, as we contemplate the damage done by populist leaders and seductive rhetoric. Friel grew up in a Catholic community in Northern Ireland in the 1930s, and Faith Healer was written at the height of the Troubles. While the play never addresses that political situation directly, many have noted that its wisdom about identity, place and belonging surely draws on Friel’s lived experience of a divided society. “You can’t grow up in the place where Friel did without having a sense of competing realities, competing narratives, competing stories,” says Sheen. “It’s about the ambiguity of everything,” adds Threlfall. “And, like any great play, it is specific and universal at the same time. We’re in the middle of truth-seeking at the moment aren’t we? You don’t have to look very far for the analogy . . . ” But any larger political resonance with the current moment comes wrapped in something much more personal and potent. And it’s perhaps in this respect that the play feels most timely. It’s a piece composed of monologues, lonely reveries in which factual memories collide with each character’s feelings and fantasies. There is no dialogue as such, yet the three solo narrators depend on each other, bound by the events that they struggle to articulate. “It’s accumulative,” says Varma. “Sometimes we use identical language, and then one little thing is changed. It’s like different colours being laid on top of each other. I lay one colour, David lays another, Michael lays another — and then suddenly the audience sees a new colour that’s been produced.” Matthew Warchus’s “Old Vic: In Camera” staging of this collage of lonely voices is a “scratch performance”, pulled together under the peculiar circumstances of semi-lockdown and performed live onstage but to a remote audience tuned in via Zoom (viewers book tickets to watch online). Where normally the cast might have rehearsed together for weeks, for this performance they have trodden a more solitary path to a final few days in the theatre. The audience, likewise, have all been through lockdown. It’s a play that might speak afresh to viewers familiar with solitude, doubt and reflection, says Sheen. “Why are there three different versions of events?” he asks. “Clearly there is a lot in it to do with faith and belief — what you believe in, how much you can trust that. And there’s obviously something about how we can manipulate our own memories and use the stories we tell sometimes to illuminate and sometimes to hide, obfuscate or justify . . . The aspect of Frank that is hiding from the truth himself, avoiding the difficulties of his reality, and the kind of emotional and psychological acrobatics that you can perform in order to cover up — we can see that going on around the place a lot.” Sheen, who has played many compelling figures in his career, including football manager Brian Clough, prime minister Tony Blair, quiz show host Chris Tarrant and a charismatic teacher in a 2011 large-scale reworking of The Passion in his native Wales, says he is fascinated by characters who have “a performative aspect to them”. “It can often give off a sort of confidence that can then be confounded by what their inner experience is. And they’re complicated in the moral line that they walk. With Frank there is sheer fabrication, he just blatantly makes stuff up. There are all kinds of things there to do with feeling flawed, imperfect and broken. He’s the healer but he’s also the one who needs the healing.” This staging arrives at a time of great uncertainty for theatre. The play wrestles with insecurity, and many see Frank as a conduit for Friel’s own self-doubt as a writer. For writer and critic Fintan O’Toole, “Frank Hardy is the nearest thing to an avatar in [Friel’s] own work: a haunted figure, unsure whether he’s a miracle worker or a charlatan.” And Frank himself voices confusion early in the play about the elusive nature and source of his talent: “Was it all chance?” he asks.

That doubt is recognisable to many artists, says Threlfall. He cites a legendary occasion when actor Laurence Olivier, having given a dazzling performance of Othello, was found plunged in gloom: “Someone said to him, ‘What’s the matter? It was brilliant tonight.’ And he said, ‘Yes, but I don’t know how I did it.’” Yet while Faith Healer is haunted by the fear of failure, it also celebrates the power of live performance. At one point, when Teddy describes Frank’s unexpected healing of a group of people in a shabby old church hall, he could be recalling a transformative evening of theatre. Frank is nothing without his “congregation”, just as Friel’s play is unfinished without an audience. “It’s not about the individual alone,” says Varma. “There’s something else that happens in between [the actor and the audience]. There’s an alchemy.” There’s a particular poignancy, she adds, to delivering this play about belief and memory at a time when many theatres are closed and audiences are still limited (the Old Vic performance is partly aimed at raising money for the theatre). Friel was not a screen writer, she points out: this is a subtle verbal piece reliant on the ability of actors in a space to summon up a lost world through words. “The play only exists if you can remember it,” she says. “Theatre only exists if we can remember Friel and all these amazing theatre writers and we can bring them alive for the audiences.”

Ft.com

[hanamiyaaaa]

ONE PIECE HEADCANONS: Ideal S/O

Monkey D. Luffy

It's already very obvious that Luffy is basically chopper when it comes to sexual/romantic attraction (when not under usopp's influence). Oda stated that Luffy can identify beauty and while this is true, it's also made obvious that physical appearance isn't a major player (at all) for him when it comes to choosing who he wants to drag into his crew/life. That's why if he were to fall in love I'm sure he'd very much see past the cover.

Luffy would want someone adventurous; someone who he could share those thrilling moments with when he feels as if nothing is chaining him down. It would be great to have a wind beneath his wings of freedom, but he'd enjoy a partner who could find their own wind and glide with him. He'd want someone to laugh with, eat with, play with, basically share his life with. It's very important that his s/o would be open enough to let him in and is willing to be involved in his life too. He'd also prefer people who are on the positive end of the spectrum. I can see him being drawn to a cheerful girls and would grow fond of her smile and laugh. Above everything else, his s/o must know the right thing to do. Luffy wouldn't want a saint, if his s/o was too selfless he may even tell her that being selfish sometimes can be okay. Instead, he'd want someone who listens to her conscience and has a sense of sincerity. Patience isn't something that Luffy would actively look for an s/o but would be a good trait to have especially with that devil-may-care attitude of his. He's bound to bring all sorts of trouble to himself (and to the people around him by extension) and get all beaten up so his s/o would repeatedly have to patch him up and then prepare to repeat it all again. She can remind him to be careful, he'd try but will ultimately fail. He'd tolerate your nagging but don't expect him to be tied down.

Roronoa Zoro

Women with a more athletic build would catch Zoro's eyes. Size wouldn't matter as long as they have defined muscles. He'd find her toned curves and well-built shoulders very much attractive, and would be his favorite places to attack during sexy time. Having muscles on her body will give him the idea that she's strong and is capable of taking hard and heavy work which wouldn't be just hot but also really impressive. I think he would find girls with broad shoulders and a pair of long legs to be more attractive because of the way she projects a certain kind of masculinity but maintains a womanly image. Like a female warrior, she’s strong but delicate at the same time.

First and foremost, she must have dignity. She must maintain pride and honor through her actions, words and thoughts. This means she'd have to deliver what she promised, practices what she preached, and stay faithful to her subordinates and master. She doesn't have to play by the rules all the time, but she has to be someone who trusts her strength and abilities to defeat her adversary rather than a person who'd use deceit to win. A victory achieved through dishonesty wouldn't be a victory at all, and nothing would have been proved. Despite Zoro’s proven perceptiveness in battle, he’s socially dense so he’d prefer a woman who would straightforwardly tell him a problem and hurt his feelings than a girl who beat around the bush and hurt his head. Bonus if she knew the things that she wanted and knew how she'd get them. Decisive women would be very attractive to them because that meant they're self-reliant, self-assured and is prepared to face the consequences of their actions. That kind of bravery would impress Zoro, but not the reckless kind of bold. It's a shame for a swordsman to have scars on his back, but if she'd throw away her life for something meaningless just to prove that she can would just look foolish in his eyes even if she ended up surviving. Perseverance would also be an important trait that Zoro would look for a partner. She should have enough self-discipline and motivation to achieve her goals no matter how unimportant they may be, and no matter how difficult things become.

Trafalgar Law

I really feel like women with a light hair color, like platinum blonde or white, and/or a very fair skin would catch Law's attention as it would remind him of Flevance. She would remind him of his cold past, but at the same time remind him of the warmth of his home. Law would find girls with smaller bone structure more attractive. She'd have a thin and willowy build with modest endowments and slender arms and legs. Like a ballerina, she'll be peppered with delicate features that would make up a feminine and gentle image. Law would find tranquility in her simplicity, and would be a sight for his sore and tired eyes.

It's important to know the difference between know-it-all and an intelligent person because the former would only annoy Law while the latter would impress him. A woman who could quickly process a complicated thought and find a way to apply it to her current situation is the kind of intelligence that he's looking for. She should display a sense of caution, a good judgement and the ability to protect herself because Law wouldn't be able to look after her all the time, and he especially wouldn't want to be with a helpless damsel. Maturity would be the next good thing to have because loving Law isn't an easy task. After everything that happened to him, opening his heart once more to love isn't going to be easy. It would be a painfully slow process with a lot hesitation. Things are bound to be frustrating because there would be a time where he'd start opening up but then suddenly takes a step back and begin creating distance, that's why she needs to pack a lot of patience and understanding if she wanted to be a part of his life. Grace is a quality that he may find attractive. A girl who acts in a refined way, and moves with precision and poise would be satisfying and spectacular to watch... just like a ballerina. Also, I feel he'd like soft-spoken girls, Even if she's talkative, he'd enjoy listening to her voice but then he would prefer to hang around someone who can respect and find comfort in silence with him.

Eustass Kid

Kid is a man. A carnivore, above all. Naturally, he'd want meat in the things he eats. He'd be attracted to women on the heavier side. Large busts, wide hips and thick thighs with a proportionally narrow waist would steal his eyes from whatever he's looking. A little muscle would be great too, especially if the ones on her legs are tone and well-built. It would earn her a grin or a smirk from Kid if he saw her flex her legs as she prepares for a kick and then the muscles on her thighs become defined. I also see him favoring fuller and plump lips, liking the way they feel during a kiss and finding beauty in their shape and how they look and feel when it's around certain... things. He'd also find tattoos and body modifications like tongue or naval piercings pretty hot.

They said opposite attracts, but Kid would beg to differ. A girl who can bark as loud and bite as hard as he does would be immensely annoying but at the same time really impressive. She should be able to show him that she's strong, that she can handle herself and the things that come at her. It doesn't matter if she gets bruised and battered as long as comes out alive and victorious, it all makes a good difference. Kid would like to have a woman who he could compete with because a girl who gives up to everything that he says wouldn't be so fun. She should have enough balls to challenge him and stand up with the things she believes in. Restraint wouldn't be matter to Kid, in fact he'd like a girl who could go crazy with him but should be aware and ready to face the consequences that would come with rampaging. He'd also be more comfortable with someone who's a bit crude and emotionally/mentally-strong as compared to goodie-good girls. He's not the most refined person either and he'd definitely never deal with nitpicky people. That'd be so annoying. Honesty would be very important for Kid, and it's something that he'd constantly want her to give him. Don't lie to him, don't hide anything from him because he's perceptive and, I believe, naturally intuitive to know that there's something weird going on in his ship behind his back.

Killer

I feel like Killer would be attracted to hips; a woman who sports hips wider than the rest of her body. Imagine her figure, a bit narrow at the top then it gracefully pours down into a lovely shape that resembles the number 8. The way her hips flick from side to side as she walks would definitely catch eyes, especially Killer's! A little lean muscle is fine here and there, but a girl with too much may be a deal-breaker. She could be strong, but he'd like his women leaning more on the softer side.

Killer would prefer brains over beauty, preferably a rational thinker. She doesn't have to be a genius, but it would matter a lot if she could fight with her wits just as much as she could fight with her fits. Her artful ways of escaping enemies that she deems too strong to fight, and the way she sees beyond the situation and find solutions through unconventional methods would truly change the way he looks at her in a really good way. Killer isn't too different from his captain, or from anyone in their crew. He's just as violent as they are, but being the most reasonable member of the Kid Pirates oftentimes prevents him from going all out in battle. A woman who could lift that responsibility off his shoulder and help him lash out more would really please him. To do this, she'd have to be willing to sacrifice her own fun, otherwise she'd be added to the list of fully functional adults that Killer has to babysit... which isn't helpful at all. A person who's more comfortable in the sidelines and is more interested in supporting the crew would be best for him. A girl with a more passive disposition with an open mind would appeal more to Killer. She doesn't have to be physically strong as he can protect her, but the Kid Pirates has made a lot of enemies along their way so she should be able to keep herself alive at least.

[flightfoot]

We’re the Same Chapter 4

Thanks to @mini-minou for betaing, and @dfcfanfics and draxynnic for helping with brainstorming the fight scene!

AO3/FFN

Disclaimer:  This is a Lovesquare fic, with Identity Reveal, Hawkmoth Reveal, and Hawkmoth Defeat. It is NOT a salt fic.

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Marinette quickly scanned her surroundings. There wasn’t much. There was a door they could try to open, maybe regroup, but if Robin had locked it they were sunk. That would still make a good Plan A – bolt through the door, regroup, find supplies and maybe try to fashion a trap of some sort, or even get to Master Fu so they could use other Miraculous – but she needed a Plan B as well.

As her eyes darted to the side, she caught a glimpse of Adrien’s tense expression.

NOPE.

SHE COULD NOT THINK ABOUT HIM RIGHT NOW.

Not with how she’d been snuggling into his chest and he’d been holding her and he was also Chat Noir which meant he loved her back and the soft looks her kitty had given her and-

NO. BAD MARINETTE. THINK ABOUT ADRICHAT LOVE REVELATIONS LATER, CONCENTRATE ON GETTING MIRACULOUS BACK NOW.

Seriously, what was up with Robin?! If he really WAS Robin. At this point she had her doubts. Robin was supposed to be a good guy, and knocking out and kidnapping her and Adri- (CHAT, think of him as Chat, she knew how to function with Chat Noir, she couldn’t afford to get all flustered and clumsy now- ) –Chat, kidnapping her and Chat didn’t exactly scream ‘I’m a good guy you can totally trust’.

Maybe the Robin Lucky Charm hadn’t been a sign that she needed Robin, but a warning to look out for him? She thought she remembered him talking about having important information for them, but she’d been so out of it at the time, she could easily be imagining it.

Whatever, she’d figure it out later. If he was an enemy, they had to take him down and get the Miraculous back. If he was an ally (and if he was she was going to have a TALK with him about how to make friends) then they still needed to take him down and get the Miraculous back, since it was probably part of some stupid test. Either way, her path was clear.

At least they probably didn’t have to worry about him killing or injuring them too badly. If he wanted to do that, he could’ve done it while they were sleeping. Which meant that he probably WASN’T an enemy, because he didn’t have much to gain by doing this if he was.

She was SO yelling at him later if this was a test.

First, time to try the door. She darted over towards it, keeping one eye on Robin. He looked on, appearing bored. He didn’t move.

On the one hand, that was good. He wasn’t attacking right away. Maybe he was waiting for them to get their bearings? It increased in the odds that this was a test and that he probably wouldn’t try to hurt them too much or misuse the Miraculouses.

On the other hand him looking bored meant that he probably didn’t expect her to be successful and- yep, door was locked. If Chat was transformed, that wouldn’t be a problem. But if Chat was transformed, that would solve half the problem in the first place.

No use thinking about “what ifs” – she needed to deal with the here and now.

Ok, so she was limited to what was on the rooftop. What did she have?

Hm… no purse. That limited her options. All she had were the clothes she had on, and she imagined that Adrien was the same way.

On the rooftop itself, there were some bits of trash and debris. Let’s see – some stray candy wrappers, snack bags, plastic bags, some loose metal pipes and screws, probably left over from some sort of construction.

She could work with this. Nothing insanely complicated and convoluted, but she didn’t have time for her usual convoluted plans. Especially since she couldn’t communicate privately.

She darted over to the debris, handing the metal pipe to Chat. “Fight him as best you can, follow my lead,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Always, Milady.”

She blushed. DAMMIT Chat, did he have to look at her with those adoring eyes while unmasked? She’d been able to handle it while he was transformed, she’d gotten used to it from him and whenever those looks got to her, she’d been able to remind herself that she was in love with Adrien.

Knowing that Adrien and Chat Noir were the same person? Seeing those looks from Adrien? He was going to kill her. R.I.P. Marinette, she had a good run. Found dead on a random rooftop at age 14, still red from blushing.

Though… he’d ALWAYS had special looks for her. Chat had his adoring look at Ladybug, but as Adrien he’d often given her that soft look, the one that Alya pointed out in videos and photos of them – the one he’d given her when she’d fallen in love with him all those months ago.

Maybe Adrien hadn’t been in love with Marinette romantically – or hadn’t realized it at least – but he loved her, regardless of the combination of masked and unmasked.

She was beginning to realize that she did as well.

She shook her head. DAMMIT Ladybug, FOCUS! Love life later, battle now!

Chat rushed at Robin, pipe in hand. Hopefully he’d be able to keep Robin occupied, at least for a few seconds.

She snatched up a plastic bag, making sure her back was turned to Robin so he couldn’t see what she was doing, and tucked it into her sleeve. The only thing she had going for her was the element of surprise. She had to make it count.

She edged closer to where Adrien was fighting Robin. Though “fighting” might be a misnomer. Robin wasn’t making any moves towards Adrien. He wasn’t even trying to get away. He just dodged Adrien’s attacks, looking faintly bored.

It kept him occupied. That was good enough.

Robin’s eyes followed her, seemingly curious, but he made no move towards her either.

Not good. The element of surprise was all she had. She couldn’t really regain it now, not by herself.

Luckily she didn’t have to.

Long months of akuma battles had attuned Chat and Ladybug to each other’s movements. She knew her partner and he knew her. She didn’t have time to relay her plan to Chat.

She didn’t have to.

In one fluid movement she pulled the bag from her sleeve, unfurling it quickly. Simultaneously Adrien moved to the side, leaving her opposite himself with Robin in-between them. He aggressively swung the pipe at Robin’s midsection, forcing him to step backwards towards Marinette.

She brought down the bag over Robin’s head. Adrien dropped his makeshift weapon, lunging for Robin’s closed fist.

Just as Adrien made contact with his hand, Robin jumped back, actively putting distance between himself and Adrien for the first time in the fight.

“ENOUGH!”

Adrien and Marinette paused.

Robin shook his head, dislodging the plastic bag.

He narrowed his eyes. “If I’d been fighting back, you’d both have been dead in seconds. The two of you have little sense of self-preservation and no idea how to keep yourself from being injured in a serious fight.”

A smile slowly spread over his face. He turned to face Adrien. “Still… while it was obvious that you were used to battling with a lighter weapon – or at least with enhanced strength so it SEEMS lighter – your technique was passable, taking that into account.”

“As for you Marinette, using the plastic bag to obscure my vision wouldn’t have worked. I can fight blind if I have to. There’s a reason why my costume has a hood when no other Robin’s did – I can afford it. Even if a foe pulls it over my head to blindfold me, I can still fight. Conceptually it was a decent idea, considering what you had to work with.”

He gave them a gap-toothed grin. “You two are overly reliant on your Miraculous. You’re sitting ducks as civilians, and if someone competent guns for you, you’re dead. But you have potential.”

He extended his hand towards them, unfurling it to reveal their Miraculous.

Glaring at him, Marinette and Adrien snatched them back. Slipping her earrings back on, she let out a silent prayer. Please let these be real. Please don’t let this be some cruel trick. Please let Tikki be-

A light shown, expelling itself from her earrings.

“TIKKI!”

She caught the little bug in her hands. “Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Tikki shook her head. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t manifested, that’s all.”

Then she seemed to fully take in exactly who all was there. With herself in full view. And talking.

“Uh… meow meow?”

Robin crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

Marinette sighed. “It’s no use pretending, Tikki. Robin’s the one who kidnapped us in the first place.”

“You, a red-and-black spotted bug-like floating creature the size of the hamster, meowed as a way of pretending you were a cat,” Robin stated, drumming his fingers against his arm.

“Hey, it’s worked before!” Marinette cut in.

He gave her a look.

She didn’t waver. This boy had kidnapped her and Adrien, stolen Tikki and Plagg, and he had the nerve to make fun of Tikki afterwards?

No. She would NOT be intimidated by him. She was not going to put up with him looking down on her or her friends.

He wanted to throw shade? Fine. She’d throw it right back.

“You don’t get to criticize Tikki, me, or any of us for making poor decisions. YOU KIDNAPPED US. YOU HAVE NO ROOM TO TALK.”

He snorted. She resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“I needed to see whether you’d be a help or a hindrance. After seeing how you did without powers, I believe you two could be useful.”

“And why should we help you?” Marinette said through gritted teeth.

Robin looked at Marinette, then Adrien, who had stopped cuddling Plagg and been watching their confrontation.

“Because I know who Hawkmoth is.”

Wait, WHAT?!

Adrien stared at Robin, slack-jawed. He knew? HOW?

Robin looked at Adrien with something like… was that pity?

“I needed to know who you two were, so I placed trackers on both of you. Ducard followed Ladybug while I followed Chat Noir. It didn’t take me long to figure out that Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste… but that wasn’t all I discovered.”

  Dread pooled in Adrien’s stomach. How could following him home have possibly led to Hawkmoth’s identity? He didn’t have anything to do with Hawkmoth! (Well, aside from the obvious.)

…Right?

Robin looked Adrien in the eyes. “Hawkmoth is your father, Gabriel Agreste.”

Adrien’s heart stopped.

There’s… there’s no way.

“No. No, you’re LYING! I know he hasn’t always been around much, but… but he cares about me! He’s not a bad person, you HAVE to be lying. Or- or maybe just mistaken. Yeah! He CAN’T be Hawkmoth, we suspected that before, but then he was akumatized right afterwards! You’re WRONG!”

He glanced over at Marinette. Why hadn’t she responded, backed him up?

“Right, my Lady?”

She stared blankly ahead, frozen.

Icy tendrils crept up Adrien’s chest. “Marinette, what’s wrong?”

That snapped her out of her reverie. She bit her lip. “Chat… I don’t think we can rule him out based on that. Not after Heroes Day. He had an accomplice, remember? Whoever was using the Peacock Miraculous to create that Sentimonster moth could easily have just switched Miraculous with him. We can’t rule anyone out based on them being akumatized before. And the timing was highly suspicious. He just happens to become akumatized right when we start suspecting him of being Hawkmoth? It might not have been a coincidence.”

“No, that can’t be right! It CAN’T!” Adrien pleaded. Whether it was to Marinette, Robin, or himself, he wasn’t sure.

“It can, and it is,” Robin said. He took out a device from his toolbelt and pressed a few buttons. A holographic display flickered into existence, showing what appeared to be live feeds from Adrien’s house.

Except for one feed.

“…Mother?”

Why… why was she there? They’d never found a body. It made sense for her to be in a coffin, but… it’d been nearly a year since she’d disappeared. She shouldn’t look this… intact.

Adrien’s stomach turned thinking about it, but he knew at least the basics of how decomposition worked. Even if she was embalmed, she still shouldn’t look this good after all this time.

Unless…

Robin met his gaze. “I checked her over while I was down there. I couldn’t detect any vital signs, but based on the lack of any sign of degradation or rot, I believe that she’s not dead either – most likely in some sort of suspended animation, though how that is being achieved, I’m not sure.”

Not dead?

She… she was alive?

His mother was alive?

He could see her?

He jolted, breathing heavily, palms sweating.

Robin had seen her. In person. He’d been close enough to check for vital signs.

“Where is she?” he breathed out, barely above a whisper, eyes locked to the screen.

A white butterfly fluttered past her pod. Then another. And another. The same kind that Hawkmoth used.

“In Hawkmoth’s lair,” Robin said gently. “In a giant cavern beneath the Agreste Manor.”

All this time.

ALL. THIS. TIME.

She was RIGHT THERE.

Right below him.

And he never knew.

How many sleepless nights had he spent sobbing into his pillow, his mother gone with no explanation?

How long had he wondered what had happened to her?

And the whole time she’d been only a few hundred meters away.

His father had never told him.

Never bothered to confess that she was alive, that he knew where she was.

His father who… who was almost certainly Hawkmoth.

Oh GOD. The- the butterflies.

His father was Hawkmoth.

“…Why?” he asked, quivering. Why would he do this? HOW could he do this? This – he’d thought – he’d thought that his father cared about him, in his own way. At least cared about his safety.

But his father was the one putting him in the most danger. Not even counting when he was Chat Noir, his father had deliberately made akumas in his vicinity, where he should have known that he’d be in danger. He’d even made akumas whose MAIN GOAL was to attack him, to hurt him.

And yet he claimed to care about his safety? That that was the main reason why he kept Adrien on such a tight leash, locked away from the rest of the world?

No. That had never been the true reason.

Marinette placed a hand on his shoulder. He was grateful for that. He felt like he’d shake apart without her touch.

His mother wasn’t dead and wasn’t missing. She’d been near him all along

His father was an evil man who had never really cared whether he was safe. Had never cared about him as a person at all.

His world was crumbling, and the only constant-

A low rumble vibrated through his body, different from his usual purrs.

Vaguely he remembered reading that cats purr when they’re happy and content – but also when they were injured in an attempt to help heal.

But there was no healing this.

“Kitty,” Marinette spoke softly, turning so that they were face-to face. “Whatever happens, whatever your father’s reasons, I’m here for you. Never forget that. We’re a team. You and me against the world, remember?”

 “I- I can’t pretend to know how you’re feeling. What it’s like to have everything you thought you knew disintegrate before your eyes. But I won’t leave you.”

Marinette. Ladybug. She- she was still here.

Maybe things had changed. Two of the most important people in his life were the same person. But that didn’t change who she was.

His mother was alive, but still gone, in a way. His father wasn’t who he thought he was, wasn’t the sort of person he had told himself he must be.

But he still had Marinette.

And not just her.

He had Plagg.

He had Nino.

He even had Chloe, though she had a lot of growing to do.

He had people he could rely on.

He wasn’t alone.

With a sob, he collapsed into Marinette’s arms.

She hugged him tight, whispering quiet assurances, stroking his back. He couldn’t even parse what she was saying – she was too quiet and he was too out of it for that – but he appreciated the soft, comforting tone of her voice nonetheless.

After a few moments she shifted, lifting her gaze from Adrien to Damian. “I need to talk with Adrien for a while. Help him process. Plus – well, there’s a high chance of him being akumatized right now. I need to be ready to catch butterflies. We can talk about what to do about Gabriel later. Not much later, Adrien is NOT going to spend another night in that house, but once he’s in a better place.”

Oh. Oh CRAP. He hadn’t even thought of that! The idea of being turned against His Lady…? He shuddered. Surely Gabriel wouldn’t- oh who was he kidding, of course he would. If he thought it would give him half a chance of winning, he wouldn’t hesitate. He’d certainly proven that he was fine with throwing Adrien’s in harm’s way. Making him harm others, harm the people closest to him? Well since when had Gabriel given a crap about Adrien’s feelings or the people he cared about (aside from the people that Gabriel also happened to care about. Probably. At this point Adrien wasn’t sure whether Gabriel had ever truly cared for anyone.)

Adrien would rather die than harm Marinette. She was the person he cared the most about it in the world. Besides, she was more important than him. Without her, Paris couldn’t be restored. The world could survive without Adrien for a little while. Without Marinette? Not so much.

He trusted her to fix everything. To bring him back. She was Marinette after all. She always found a way.

“Tikki, Spots on!”

A pink light ran up Marinette’s body. Bare skin and cotton clothing replaced by a red-and-black suit.

“Hold on, kitty,” she whispered in his ear, gripping him tightly.

He nodded mutely. He’d known that Marinette was Ladybug of course, but seeing it so obviously, so undeniably? He just wanted to sit for another few minutes and process.

If only Ladybug’s secret identity was the only thing he had to think about.

Gripping an arm around his waist (his cheeks pinkened at the sensation), she threw her yo-yo, flinging herself and Adrien away.

[rowxngreen]

18 years old from tucker, atlanta and has lived in atlanta for 18 years . currently working as a computer repair person/staff at his family’s store in marietta [ kit , 25 , mst ] | @atlanta-rpg​

tw: self harm, depression, sexual assault, substance use

Age: 18

Gender: Transmasculine, he/him

[Boxcar - Jawbreakers] - “Uhhh, shit, I guess if I had to pick a theme song it’d be Boxcar. I like the whole vibe of it, like, calling out punk purists. Punk should have no room for purism. If you say you’re a punk and you’re not a nazi, cause in the words of Dead Kennedys ‘nazi punks fuck off,’ you’re welcome. That’s what the whole point of punk was, dude. It’s the ultimate counter culture movement ‘cause it welcomes fucking everyone unlike mainstream culture.”

D.O.B: February 14, 2001

“Why the name Rowan?”

“So, like, originally I was named Hannah. Which is totally a bullshit name and when I met my forever family I decided to give myself a new name and I wanted it to be all nature-y because they all had nature names. They like helped me look and I found Rowan and read this folklore about how a rowan tree was where the devil hanged his mother and I knew right then. That was my name.”

Ethnicity: Half white, half mestizo

Enneagram: 8

Relationship Status: single - “Single and definitely not ready to mingle. If it happens it happens but I sure as hell ain’t seeking it out and I don’t think it’s gonna happen anyways so it don’t fucking matter.”

Sexual Orientation: Unsure  “Yeah, I don’t really wanna think about sexy shit. I was raped as a kid, I’m not especially into remembering it. And all this sexual orientation shit makes me remember it.”

Appearance:

Height: 5’0

Build: Smaller than he looks from far away. He’s actually really tiny. And he hates it.

If he wasn’t so intimidating he could be cute. With a small stature, high cheekbones, a cocky swagger and big brown eyes he is definitely attractive. But the scowl that takes over his features whenever he’s around someone he doesn’t trust and the aggression that seems to exude from every pore disguises that attractiveness pretty well.

Ripped flannels paired with crop tops and t-shirts layered with fishnets are among Rowan’s signature looks. There’s something decidedly sexual about how he dresses but he doesn’t seem to register that. He just wears what he likes and hopes will scare people. He displays his self harm scars like a badge of honor – or insanity. They seem to warn: I AM UNSTABLE, DON’T FUCKING TALK TO ME.

Look at Rowan the wrong way and at the very least he’ll gnash his teeth at you. At the most he’ll pull a knife on you and threaten to gouge out your eyes if you ever look at him again. He claims he tried to once but that’s unlikely. He would be in jail if that was the case. …right? Better not to risk it.

History:

Rowan was born to a teenage mother in an abusive household.

When Melissa Webber got pregnant at only age 15 she knew she would be in trouble. Her father, Frank, wouldn’t approve. Melissa kept it from the man as long as she could. Eventually, of course, he found out. Frank was livid. Melissa was banned from leaving their little trailer, she was banned from seeing her friends, and she was even banned from seeing her boyfriend of just over a year and the father of her baby.  She was to be homeschooled for the rest of her high school career so, in the words of Frank, she could no longer “be a slut.”

Her baby was born on Valentine’s Day in a house with no love left. Melissa’s mother had died when Melissa was only 11, and it often felt like she took any warmth and care that had been lingering in the corners of rooms, hidden among the shadows with her. How funny then that Rowan, initially named Hannah Jane, was born on Valentine’s day.

Frank’s anger and the isolation he forced on Melissa eventually pushed the girl to run away. Rowan was only 6 months old. She initially swore she would be back for her baby when she had a safe place to stay. She never came back. Before Melissa left, Rowan had been largely ignored by Frank. Now, however, he became the scapegoat. Melissa hadn’t left because she was isolated from the world. Nor, apparently, had she left because of the intense abuse she faced. Instead, according to Frank, she had left because the baby had ruined her life.

Frank turned this rage on the baby. Rowan’s earliest memories involve him being tied onto a tiny children’s chair for hours because Frank didn’t want him to make a mess in the house; Frank coming into the bedroom at night to ‘visit’ with him in a way that, to this day, has left Rowan extremely anxious about sex and sex repulsed; Frank holding his hand against a hot burner to 'teach [him] a lesson’ (Rowan was never told what the lesson was); having his face pushed under water in the bath to stop him from crying; and other acts that could only be described as torture. Rowan lead an extremely isolated life for the first several years of his life. He was homeschooled, like his mother, and besides Frank and a handful of Frank’s friends he was largely alone. Most of his socialization came from the television. Frank justified this by saying school was how Melissa got pregnant so he wouldn’t “make the mistake of sending another one there to be a slut.” Instead rowan was kept inside the house during school hours.

It had been noted that Frank was capable of abuse and neglect when Melissa was little (she had spent several months in the system when she’d come to school with visible bruises as a child), however, for the first 7.5 years of Rowan’s life, overworked and under-competent social workers consistently overlooked the abuse in the Webber household. Eventually one of the social workers noticed and cared enough to go through the proper procedures to get Rowan out of that living situation. She reported it to her supervisor and a full scale investigation was launched. The abuse was soon discovered through talking to and examining Rowan and Rowan was removed from the situation. For the first time in his life, he was safe – though Rowan did not know what ‘safe’ meant or felt like yet.

Rowan was given a temporary placement in the Green household, because, at the time, the Greens were acting as an emergency house for children who had just been taken away from their parents. He was only supposed to be with them a week but the Green adults fell in love with the skittish, self reliant child they had taken in. They asked for him to stay with them and began the process of adopting him soon after.  It took a long time for Rowan to realize he was safe and he was loved. For months he put up with people touching him because he was afraid that if he spoke out he would face some sort of punishment. For months he distrusted everyone in the Green household despite how much they loved him. He was always wary, always waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to be hurt again. He was placed into therapy when he was young and has gone off and on since.

The Greens are a stereotypical homeschool family. Rowan was kid number 11, they own their own business and they bake their own bread. Mr. Green is a carpenter and Mrs. Green runs the little gift shop + bakery in Marietta. There were so many siblings that the older ones had to help care for the little ones when the younger ones were little. To this day the entire family is very close knit and the older siblings constantly rely on the younger ones to watch their children.

The Greens practice a form of schooling called unschooling. It is a child-led education where children get to decide what they study and when. Additionally, they’re what’s called whole-life unschoolers and the green parents take a stance on parenting where they don’t give their children orders. They talk to them and treat them as if they are capable of making their own choices and decisions, except when it is something that puts their health at risk.

Rowan thrives with that educational setting. He learned to read so he could use his brother’s computer, he learned math while cooking and found it fascinating so he learned it more in depth, he learned how to build robots and how to break into the coding of popular websites well enough that he even figured out how to monetize it when he was 12 (he tests websites for weaknesses and when he finds them he points it out and gets paid to do so). He learned how to play keyboard and guitar and began recording and publishing his music on Soundcloud and Youtube.

Within a few months of living with his new family, his new dad built him a beautiful, fully enclosed, treehouse in the large tree in their backyard. Rowan loved it so much he lived in it for almost a year only coming in to use the bathroom or on the most sweltering days when his family insisted he stay cool inside. He took his baths in the kiddie pool since he lived “outside in [his] own house now.”

Around this time he got a pirate costume and a knight costume. He changed his name to Rowan and began to trade off between wearing those two costumes. When he was in the knight costume he insisted on being called Brave Sir Rowan. When he was a pirate he insisted he was Cap’n Ro.

For a period of Rowan’s life you wouldn’t know he went through the abuse he went through. He seemed happy, healthy, well adjusted.

And then puberty hit.

With puberty came deep gender dysphoria. Suddenly his body was changing in ways he hated. He was developing curves and stopped growing. All the mental illness his family thought they had under control resurfaced along with a large new helping of self-loathing triggered by dysphoria.

Rowan began to self harm. It started small. He would lie in bed and fantasize about cutting off the parts of him that didn’t look right when he saw himself in the mirror. One night, he crawled out of bed and grabbed a kitchen knife and tried cutting his breasts just to see if it was possible. The scratch was so small it didn’t bleed. But, relief flooded through him. He was able to breathe and the crushing weight of dread had let up just a bit. He stopped crying and crawled back into bed and slept well for the first time in weeks.

Whenever he was upset he began to run to the sharp sting of a blade. He stole a pocket knife and a pack of razors and hid them in his treehouse. His family discovered the harm almost a year after he started. By then the little scratches had turned into proper injuries. He was immediately sent back to therapy and was diagnosed with gender dysphoria soon after. 

Rowan socially transitioned. It helped a little bit but pandora’s box was open. His brain had tasted self destruction and it was hooked.

The last several years have been a slow but steady spiral downwards. He made friends with other sad, breaking kids and they broke together. They began to experiment with alcohol and substance use young, Rowan would swear he’s fine but whenever you put alcohol in his hands he binge drinks to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible. Whenever there’s a chance for him to get high off something new he takes it, barring only the most stigmatized of drugs.

Somewhere during this spiral he realized the easiest way to make people leave him alone was to scare them. So he began dressing in ways he thought would scare them and carrying himself like at any moment he could snap.

Personality:

“Sometimes I wonder what his life could have been if he had come to us as a baby and if we had known about his gender. You should have seen him when he was little. He was such a cute kid and was so passionate about, well, everything. And he’s so smart it’s intimidating. But then he hit puberty and we all lost what little stability he had. Last time I talked to mom, I heard he set a trashcan in the park on fire while he was drunk or high or both and it breaks my heart because I know he’s a good kid underneath it all. He’s just a good kid who’s really struggling right now. I hate it because I can’t even trust him to be alone with my kids anymore. What if that comes out around them and he hurts my crew?” – Clay Green, older brother.

“Rowan likes to act like he’s tough shit but he’s not. He can’t sleep unless he has his favorite stuffed animal with him and once I saw him crying over the sounds sloths make. The tough guy act is just that. An act. I mean, look at his cat. He only has the thing because he saw it was scared and got gentle with it. And now he’s the only person that cat tolerates and he has it perched in his tree house half the time so you can’t even go up there if you’re not him. Which, like, not cool when your little brother is practically sprinting to a drug addicted future and you really should be making sure he doesn’t have the worst of it in your parents house.” – Rosemary Green, older sister.

At first interaction it’s easy to think Rowan is all rough and ready to fight. And that’s exactly what he wants you to think. His fighter persona is designed to scare anyone who would hurt him away. Give him some time and a little patience and it becomes obvious that Rowan is much more complex than that. Rowan is confusing. There are so many elements to him that it’s hard for any one person to get a full picture of him.

There’s his brash fighter side – the part of him that stabbed a child for being mean to his sister once. There’s the sweet side of him that takes lost animals and lost people under his wing and cares for them when they can’t seem to care for themselves.

There’s the engineer part of him that builds useless robots constantly just because he’s bored. There’s the witch part of him that has an altar in his bedroom and that celebrates every pagan holiday he knows about so none of the gods feel left out.

There’s still a childlike part of him that hangs out in the tree fort his dad made him as a kid and still holds conversations between his stuffed animals. There’s the teenage part of him that’s looking for any substance to numb the pain of becoming an adult coupled with the pain of his past.

There’s the creative part of him that comes up with bizarre ideas for robots, off the wall pranks (like leaving loaves of homemade bread all over someone’s living space) and interprets almost every song he likes into his own version. And then there’s the part of him that named his cat “Cat.”

Rowan is nothing if not complicated and confusing. He doesn’t mind that though. He’s used to being the smartest person in any room he’s in but he doesn’t make it a big deal. He just watches everyone else and works on mentally figuring out how to fix the coding of whatever website he’s working on at the moment.

He doesn’t love easily but when he loves he loves deeply and unconditionally. If you find yourself lucky enough to be one of Rowan’s chosen few know you will have him on your side for life. He’s ride or die with everyone he cares about.

Hobbies:

Robotics

Singing (he actually has a really good voice)

Collecting stuffed animals

Programming

Baking (he works at a bakery but he also just enjoys it)

Sloths. They’re his favorite thing in this world and he is almost obsessive in his quest to see sloths, collect sloth mementos, and learn sloth facts.

Trivia:

Rowan has a car named Bloody Mary. It’s an old fashioned VW Beetle he spray painted black and red. He got a beetle because he “wanted to inspire violence in children.”

He’s really good with anything that uses his hands. Baking, playing guitar, building robots, etc. If it’s a hands-on, kinesthetic task Rowan excels at it.

He is terrified of butterflies and giraffes.

He collects stuffed animals so intensely that it can be hard to walk in his bedroom because there are so many stuffed animals lying around. He sleeps with a build-a-bear every night who he’s named Floyd and a stuffed animal of the Peanuts character Woodstock (who he has named Oscar).

Health:

Rowan downplays how he’s feeling most of the time. The physical abuse and neglect he faced as a child left him with chronic pain. He doesn’t mention it very often. He doesn’t want to admit to any weaknesses. If you watch him closely enough you’ll notice him rubbing his joints or squirming in his seat. Those are his biggest tells with his pain.

At 7 he was diagnosed with dyslexia and he still struggles to read and code (coding is worth the struggle, reading is not). At 13 he was diagnosed with gender dysphoria. Besides changing his pronouns he doesn’t seem too interested in transitioning (he’ll tell you he doesn’t see a point but in reality he’s afraid of the medical procedures involved). At 15 he was diagnosed with mood disorder not otherwise specified. He was given medication that he promptly threw out but he still attends weekly therapy sessions to try and help.

He doesn’t think it’s doing anything but sometimes it’s just easier to go along with the things expected of you.

Connections:

Bandmates: Rowan can either be the lead singer, guitar or bass/keyboards but the band should definitely be punk/post-punk influenced. I’m super broad within that. Want a sound closer to Pale Waves? Cool, sounds good. You into The Smiths and want that dance depression? kk, you got it. you into old school punk and want melvins vibe? coolcoolcool, love to live hard dude

Friends: Rowan might be a little shit but he’s a little shit who has a handful of friends. Because he’s the youngest sibling in his household, he gets along with older people really well.

Mentors: This lost teen needs people to look up to. It takes a lot to break through to him but he needs someone who’ll try.

Adversaries: These are people who rowan Does Not get along with. This can be for personality reasons or just simply because they try to keep him out of trouble and he wants very much to be in trouble.

Biological Dad: I love the idea of Rowan’s dad watching from the sidelines and watching Rowan grow up but not being able to legally reach out until Rowan is an adult. NOTE: Rowan’s dad needs to be hispanic. Rowan himself is half hispanic and it’s not on his mom’s side bc I wasn’t about to make the brown people abusive and add to that stigma.

Reluctant Romance: Rowan doesn’t want to date. He really doesn’t. BUT! I love the idea of him falling for someone and someone falling for him. I’m even down for an uncomfortable age difference so long as that’s acknowledged in plot. ;)

[tisfan]

Add Three Eggs

Title: Add Three Eggs Square: S4 - learning to cook Warning: domestic assassins Pairing: WinterIronWidow Summary: After a mission, the Hydra team regroups in the safe house and spends a little bit of downtime… just being together. Link: A03 for @tonystarkbingo

A/n - Sequel to Sleeper (some time has passed, Tony and Nat are in their early 20s.)

The safe house was boring. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room and television, kitchen. Dining room with horrible chairs and a table shivved up on a couple of matchbooks to keep it from shaking.

Typical Hydra bullshit.

“I am taking the shower, Tosha,” Natasha said, throwing her bags near the sofa. The sofa was very ugly, some late seventies patterned scratchy plaid with thick wooden supports. A box, with cushions, really.  “You patch up.”

“I can do it myself,” James snarled, and Tony was tempted for a moment to drop the Winter Soldier on his self-reliant ass. He didn’t, because James had been shot, and what’s more, Tony was pretty sure that bullet said Stark on it. In more ways than one.

“Of course you can,” Tony said, easing James onto one of the rickety dining room chairs. The light was better. And linoleum was easier to clean blood stains off of. “But I can do it faster.”

James made another unpleasant noise, and Tony ignored it, because James was probably in pain. It didn’t matter, really. There should be-- ah, there it was, under the kitchen counter, next to the dishwasher. A first aid kit.

“Here,” he said, dropping the kit on the table. “Get out of your shirt and let me see. I’ll secure the location--”

(more under the cut)

Tony scrambled around in the kitchen, finding the stash of guns and knives, bullets and money, putting all their new resources on the counter where they could see it and get to it, easily. There was a packet of false IDs just waiting for them, frozen inside a chunk of ice. Tony threw that in the sink, stopped moving long enough to help cut James out of his armor and clothing, until he was stripped to the waist. The shot was clean, in through the shoulder, out the chest. Missed anything major and didn’t break his collarbone, so all that was good.

“Just cauterize it,” James told him.

“Don’t be stupid,” Tony told him. “It’ll scar that way, and then everyone will know when they see you that you’ve been shot. Who knows, you might need to be the Summer Soldier and take a target out on a nude beach.”

James actually barked out a laugh. “Okay, okay, you win. Just make it neat.”

“Tosha does the best stitches,” Natasha said. She was wrapped in a thin towel, her hair piled wet and dripping over her head. She went to her bags and started rummaging around in them, looking for clothes.

They’d all seen each other in various states of undress a hundred times or more during training. But Tony never failed to notice how beautiful his partners were. He wondered, sometimes, if they thought he was beautiful, or only just useful.

He’d even caught them kissing, a few times, and once was pretty sure he’d heard more than just kissing. There were strict protocols in Hydra against fraternization. Tony knew they were aware.

Neither of them had ever offered to kiss him.

Tony did the best stitches because he completely ignored most of the items in the Hydra standard medikit. He’d made his own stitches, part nano-tech, part miniature ziplocks. His efforts to submit those to Hydra’s research and development, or field teams, had been lackluster.

He cleaned the wound, then laid the lock-stick material over the hole. “It won’t hurt long,” he told James.

“Tony-- thank you,” James said. He put his hand over Tony’s for a moment, the touch doing things to Tony’s mid-section. Even after James had moved his hand away, Tony could feel it, the weight of his fingers, the heat of his skin. He wondered what it would be like to kiss James. He wondered if James would let him. He wondered if it would make Natasha angry, if he did.

He’d meant to say anytime, a casual. Blow it off. No problem. And he found himself looking into those blue eyes. “Anything--” he said, then coughed. “Anything you need. You know that.”

“I do,” James said. “We both do.”

There was nothing to eat in the safe house. Not even protein bars. Which meant someone had to go for a store trip.

“Does it have to be me, because I am the girl?” Natasha demanded. Hydra trained her to be a Widow, sexy and deadly and female. And even in Hydra, who thought themselves so much better than the rest of the world, they looked down on women; women seldom made command roles, no matter how useful or skilled. Look at Hale. She was smart and strong and well-trained, highly placed in the US military. And her secret role in Hydra? Was to be a damn incubator.

Natasha put her hand to her stomach, uneasily. At least they wouldn’t do that to her.

“It has to be you because I’m Tony Stark,” Tosha said. “I can’t walk into a damn grocery store in the States and not be recognized.”

That would serve Hydra well, later. Now, Tosha’s role was mainly backup and support. Repair of the Asset. Computer infiltration, electronics, and driver.

“You will drive me,” Natasha said. She didn’t like driving.

“Of course,” Tosha said, easily enough. “What do we need for food, I’ll get you a card ready.”

“We should learn how to cook,” James spoke up, suddenly. “Not eating out of crinkly packages all day. I would kill someone for a meatloaf and gravy.”

Natasha didn’t laugh; she’d seen James kill a man for less.

Tony pulled out his pocket secretary, a device about the size of a scientific calculator, that Tony had adapted as some sort of electronic paper, phone link up, and micro computer. “What’s in it?”

James shook his head. “I don’t know. But there’s a bookstore on the way--” He unfolded the map, which had the town laid out for them in neat, Hydra code. Places to hide, switching stations for the power company, sewer lines, shops. A gun store. “Here. Get a cookbook.”

“Really?” Tony’s eyebrow went up.

“Why not,” James replied. “We will be here weeks at least, on this mission. We should have something to occupy our down time. We will learn to cook. All of us. We will eat together, at the table. As if we are a family. We may be called on, someday, to pose as simple citizens. We should know how.”

He’d expected the team to rebel against it. Cooking, cleaning. Pretending. But James had to admit, Tosha and Natasha surprised him.

Even if it took them four attempts to make anything remotely resembling meatloaf.

Natasha was a dab hand at cutting vegetables, and Tosha was slowly figuring out what instructions in the cookbook meant. Since neither of them had done more than sometimes pour boiling water into a cup of noodles, they’d had to start at the very beginning.

Tony was already up, nursing a cup of coffee and staring at the table aimlessly when James walked in.

“Do you-- I can’t figure out how to… my dad’s butler used to make eggs, not scrambled, or anything like what’s in this book, but he cut a hole in toast and they tasted like butter, it was amazing.”

“Eggs in a basket,” James said, slowly. Sometimes, he would get flashes of a life, before Hydra. A life he had once loved. A boy, he had once loved.

Now, he was Hydra, and that man was forgotten. Mostly.

But there was a boy he loved, right there, looking into his cup of coffee.

“I know how, Tosha. Would you like me to show you?”

“Yeah-- er, no, not really,” Tosha admitted. “I just want you to make me eggs. Pretend like I matter, we’re doing that, right, pretending to be a family. Dad and mom, and completely unwelcome child.”

“What?”

“I just-- I’ve lived this before, James,” Tosha said. “At home, all the time. I don’t-- I won’t tell, I promise, but I… would like to be reassigned.”

“You won’t tell who what?” James knew. Of course Tosha knew. Tosha was very smart, even if it wasn’t always obvious how observant he was.

“Look, you like her, I get that, who wouldn’t like Nat? She’s beautiful and perfect and competent, and… everything. So, so much everything. And so are you. I understand. It’s dangerous, and you’ll get caught, but-- hey, I would totally do it.”

James let himself smile. “Would you? Totally do it?”

“In a heartbeat,” Tosha admitted.

“You do not need to be reassigned,” James said. “The team would suffer in your absence.”

“There are other techs,” Tosha said. “And then I wouldn’t-- look, it’s just hard, okay.”

“We would suffer,” James promised, going to Tony and taking his hand. “Because we love you, and we would miss you.”

“What--” Tosha actually recoiled, as if love was not something he was even remotely prepared to accept.

“We’ve spoken of it, Nat and I, wondering if you would ever do more than look,” James said. “We didn’t want to scare you, or upset you. You sometimes love your machines more than anything else.”

“That’s a lie,” Tosha said, and suddenly James found himself with an armful of shaking, shivering Tosha. “That’s a lie. I know-- I know how it looks, but.”

James lifted Tosha’s chin. “But you do love us, which is good. You do not need to be reassigned.”

“No, I guess not,” Tosha said. “But we’re going to get caught.”

Natasha leaned against the door in the kitchen, her bathrobe loose and open in the front, showing off the gap between her breasts, and her tiny little underwear. “You will not let that happen.”

Tosha stiffened, swallowed, stiffened in yet another way that James could feel. “Uh, no, I guess I won’t.” 

[writingonesdreams]

Novel Prep Tag Game 2

So I did this one before, but the questions are so great I'm probably going to do this for every important story idea. So here goes the newest one!

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag as many writers as there are questions answered (or as many as you can) to spread the positivity! Even if these questions are not explicitly brought up in the novel, they are still good to keep in mind when writing.

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

A young ambassador tries to keep peace during the tournament where mages from different dimensions use their abilities for sport instead of combat for the first time after the Era of Wars.

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

A novel for now.

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

Changing dimensions. Big cities. Empty desolated desert. Seascape with scattered rocks. 

4. What other stories inspire your novel?  

Darker Shade of Magic series from V.A. Schwab, Masaryk movie, Megalo Box anime 

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel

6. Who is your protagonist?  

Anise the dimension ambassador. She is one of the strongest mages of her age, mastering the highest level of magic and has been selected by the current ruling mage family to keep peace and contact between her assigned dimensions.

7. Who is their closest ally?

The second prince Cole, who is Anise’s closest friend and also a participant in the games. Later the two get close with Rhys and Oliver.

8. Who is their enemy?

Officialy the participants of the games only in sporting manner. But mainly the prejudices and tension between the mages since the relationships are still strained after the wars and not every magic type is considered equally powerful.

9. What do they want more than anything?

Anise wants to be sure that her life has meaning, that she is living her life and using her talents the best way she can. Rhys wants to prove himself during the games. Cole wants to show his parents and the magic world he isn't a powerful prince just because of his birth, but because he earned the abilities he possesses. Oliver wants to know if he is good enough for the world.

Basically all characters struggle with feelings of worthlessness and how to feel valuable again.

10. Why can’t they have it?

Anise doesn't know what she wants or what she is missing, since she has a meaningful job, but doesn't enjoy her life. Rhys has been looked down upon and mistreated because of his affinity to fire magic (that is considered died out and blamed for causing the Era of Wars in the first place). Cole as the second prince doesn't get as much attention or recognition.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

Anise believes her job and magic abilities are the only things that make her valuable. Rhys believes he has to fight to feel alive because he doesn't have any real worth because of his magic.

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

Anise is tall and slender girl, has long golden-blond wavy hair, grey eyes and ivory skin. She has very delicate features and is rather pale. She likes to wear blue clothes.

Rhys is muscular and tall with slightly tanned skin, black curly hair and blue eyes. He is covered in scars, most notably on his arms and on his right cheek.

Cole is tall, but less muscular then Rhys. He has slightly longer black hair, vibrant green eyes and fair skin.

Oliver has short black hair and dark blue eyes. He looks very similar to his older brother Rhys in features. He is 14 so he is short compared to the others.

Plot Points

13. What is the internal conflict?

Anise struggles with finding passion in her job, that despite being meaningful doesn't make her happy. She never knew what she wanted and followed her talent, because she isn't sure if who she really is, beside her talent in magic and intelligence, is worth anything.

Rhys feels empty and starved, frustrated about his life in a dying dimension with magic that marks him to other people as being dangerous and bad. He doesn't know what exactly he is seeking, but only feels alive when he fights and experiences the thrill of it.

14. What is the external conflict?

Anise wants to prove her competence as the dimensional ambassador. That she's self-reliant, mature and responsible enough and can use her magic for a good purpose and be part of something bigger then herself.

Rhys wants to advance and win in the games to prove himself and his worth. He hates being written off because of something he can't change and that is such a fundamental part of himself. Rhys wants to see how far he can go when he gives his maximum despite the conditions set on him by others. He also hates how he can't provide for his younger brother because of the prejudices and limits put on him by others because of his magic.

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?  

For Anise it would be disappointing the king by failing at her task, and therefore failing as a person in her eyes.

For Rhys to go back to his previous life, being frustrated and letting his self-destructiveness destroy him slowly.

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?  

What kind of magic is the strongest? What privileges do the most powerful mages deserve? Is it correct and fair to judge someone according to their magic and the level of their abilities? How much does magic actually reveal about the user?

17. Do you know how it ends?  

I have a general idea of the direction the story is headed and I know what the resolutions of the character arcs will be, but I don't have a definite ending. I'm trying to not to spoil myself, because often when I know the ending I lose intersting in writin the story.

18. What is the theme?  

Self-worth, what people see as valuable in others and in themselves, drive, passion, prejudices, life purpose, direction, meaning

19. What is a reoccurring symbol?  

Fire, river, sea, clouds, whirlwind of colours, magical portals

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)  

It's set in a number of dimensions that mages can travel through. The first half of the story as well as the place for the games is on non-magical earth so no mage would have an advantage of channelling his original world for magic.

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?  

Yes I have several scenes in my head, that I’m working on connecting into a logical plot.

22. What excited you about this story?

Magic as important part of the plot and symbol for the themes, the growing closeness between very different people, sibling relationship, friendship bonds and support

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!  

I always start with characters that I stick in different scenarios or in my favourite movies and series or books and let them interact. From those I mostly get inspiring scenes that I try to connect through a plot. Afterwards I work on characterisation, world-building, research details and outline stuff a bit. I also write little snippets that sometimes turn long and can be used as chapters.