#(also after all the manipulations trying to fit her into the environment i realised i could've just coloured someone's (sara's x)) hair🙃🥲) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

WIP #46

(Send me a number 1-60 [or a fandom/character I guess] for the corresponding wip) because I’m bored and brain-fried and have too many wips that’ll otherwise never see the light of day.

For @janetm74 who actually asked for ‘Thunderbirds, 31′ but 31 isn’t TAG so we’ve got the closest TAG one instead. (top tip: wips are mostly arranged alphabetically by fandom and the TAG wips are 46-59!)

It was really only a matter of time before someone hit Scott!whump, wasn’t it? Snippets of this one have actually appeared in previous ask games, so you get the whole thing this time (because I don’t remember which bits I’ve already posted). Fun fact: this was my first attempt at Virgil’s PoV!

There was always something wrong about Scott in Thunderbird Two. Of all the Tracys, he was the least likely to travel in the green behemoth that was, in Virgil’s private opinion, the heart of International Rescue.

And yes, that included John.

Gordon was his co-pilot, his wingman, his back-up. For all that the aquanaut was, well, an aquanaut, there was honestly no-one else Virgil would rather behind the controls of his beloved girl if he was needed elsewhere. Heavy lifting, or – his least favourite – medical duties could sometimes pull him elsewhere, and in those moments his immediate brother would take the helm with a joking smile but steady hands that would never let anything befall Two (if only, he thought from time to time, because without Two Four would be grounded).

Alan was all nervous energy, a genius pilot but too cocky for Virgil to ever be truly relaxed when Two was in his hands, but it was far from uncommon for his youngest brother to be perched behind him, screens and panels showing readout after readout as he assessed situations and started remote assembly of pods when time was particularly of the essence. Sometimes, often, he knew Alan desired the speed of One, but he also liked his comfort and short of pulling Three’s own seats into One (a feat done once, never repeated), there was no comfort as a passenger of their first response craft. Or even as the pilot, in Virgil’s opinion.

John was an unusual passenger, unlikely to be Earthside for a mission – and even if he was, quickly wrapping things up and ascending back to the lofty heights of Five and the world at his fingertips – but when he was Earthside, well, Thunderbird Two was his ship of choice. He didn’t pilot her, for all that he was trained, but no matter what Scott would mutter, John was stubborn about always using Two to get to the danger zone. Something about reckless flying and too much gravity. Virgil couldn’t truly say he understood, because John’s aversion to gravity had never been a point in common between them, but he did at least appreciate that Thunderbird One was fast, and generated far more Gs than any atmosphere-bound craft had any right to make.

Statistically speaking, Scott did travel in Two more than John did, but as he didn’t spend over three hundred days in the year off planet, Virgil wasn’t quite so fussed on the literal numbers. Scott in Two always, always meant something was wrong. Maybe One was out of action (again) but Scott wanted to be on the rescue anyway. Maybe the world was conspiring against them, and Scott just wanted to be with his brothers rather than haring off at triple their speed and leaving them alone and vulnerable (Virgil knew that really One was more vulnerable than Two, although his eldest brother could never see it that way).

Or maybe, the worst wrong of all that always lined Virgil’s stomach with lead and dried up all the saliva in his mouth, Scott wasn’t fit to fly.

John was hovering, holographic form always a little too dull to accurately capture his brother’s vibrancy. Gordon had flight control, gloved hands firmly on the yoke as though he was her designated pilot. Alan had co-pilot, booted feet reaching the floor with little difficulty nowadays – he would out-grow Gordon soon – as he flicked switches in uncharacteristic silence.

Virgil was in the medbay, scanner clutched in his hands like a lifeline as it told him nothing that he wanted to hear, and many things that he didn’t.

Scott was in the medbay, doing nothing.

Danger dogged their steps with every rescue. They knew that – had always known it, even before the Zero-X blew their father sky-high as he tried to save the world – but it never made it any easier when it got closer than normal.

As normal for them was less than a second’s escape – buildings collapsing the moment their trailing foot left the threshold, planes erupting into fireballs the instant they leapt clear – closer was barely possible. Closer was a Thunderbird coming home with deep gouges. Closer was broken bones and terrorised faces.

Closer was their eldest brother lying motionless in his ‘bird’s medbay because it had taken thirteen minutes to find him after the snow roared down.

Avalanches were a messy business. Survival rates were low, some of the worst odds International Rescue ever faced, and there was no denying that their own past experience did nothing to help whenever John uttered the word in a brief. This one shouldn’t have been too bad, as far as snow monsters went. Out of season, with few people in the huts that dotted the lower reaches of the slopes and fewer still outside. Ten people were reported missing.

They found nine, all fortunate and breathing, before the second one struck.

Alan had been in Thunderbird Two, holding her steady in the air because the large Thunderbird would have done more harm than good if she’d landed and providing a much-needed birds’ eye view of the danger zone. It had been entirely due to the combined information from him and John that had let them find the nine lucky people so quickly.

Gordon had been on triage in the hut deemed safest in the event of a second avalanche. Virgil had just reached him with rescuee number nine when it had struck.

Scott had been heading up the slope, travelling scant inches above the snow via jetpack, searching for person number ten. One’s drones had been with him, scanning furiously even as John hijacked them to give Five even more data than the space station had already obtained from other means. Those same drones had given them a glimpse of blue, grey and white all jumbled together before going dark.

It took two minutes for Virgil and Gordon to force their way out of the semi-buried but still standing hut. One more for Alan to configure a pod and tentatively lower it from the module even as they realised their original one would take too long to excavate from the snow. In those three minutes, John had triangulated all the data he could amass from Five to provide the most viable search area.

Five minutes to find a body, cold to the touch. Rescue number ten had never stood a chance. Face down and neck broken, he would have been killed almost instantly during the original avalanche.

Fifteen minutes was the time limit. Nine people had already defied it, surviving anything between half an hour and an hour under the snow before International Rescue reached the scene and dug them out. The Tracy family never had that much luck, and an avalanche was their own personal hell. They knew, in that cold-fist-closing-around-their-hearts way, that Scott would not be number ten.

Twelve minutes and the pod’s heat sensors showed yellow-green in a sea of blue.

Thirteen minutes and their eyes showed them blue in a sea of white.

Scott had been wearing his helmet when the avalanche struck. As Virgil knelt to ease his limp, cold, but breathing body from the frigid prison, he’d thanked their parents for that fact silently but profusely. Still intact, the helmet had stopped snow clogging his airways, and had enough of an air supply to stop Scott from suffocating to death in the thirteen torturously long minutes it had taken them to find him.

In the medbay, scan finished, Virgil finally removed the life-saving gear. The detached feedback from the scan told him as much, but he sighed resignedly when there was no response. Scott didn’t gasp dramatically as his recycled air supply was replaced with the real deal, nor did lightly closed eyes snap open.

“How is he?” John asked unnecessarily as Virgil’s hand lingered under brown hair longer than strictly necessary after lowering the now helmetless head back down onto the stretcher.

“Cold.” Virgil humoured him, knowing full well that John had been desperately analysing the results of the scan as they occurred. Their suits were well designed for the varied environments they found themselves in, and while Scott had shown up far, far too cold in their initial search for him, as soon as they’d got him into the security of Thunderbird Two the hint of a shiver had taken hold and Gordon had encouraged it with a single blanket.

Scott’s uniform was somewhere in the middle as far as easy to remove International Rescue uniforms went. While Gordon and John’s specialist environments necessitated almost vacuum-tight uniforms, and Virgil and Alan had heavy-duty but therefore less clingy attire, Scott wore a streamlined flight suit that didn’t adhere precisely to his body but wasn’t exactly loose either. Still, the zip tugged down easily enough and Virgil manipulated his rag doll of an eldest brother out of the tough material delicately before clearing away any leftover snow trying to chill him further and cradling him in blankets.

John watched in an agitated silence, the distance between their physical bodies never so apparent as when one of them was hurt and he was twenty two and a half thousand miles away. Sooner rather than later, Virgil knew the space elevator would be docking at Tracy Island, but before John could leave Five he needed to get One nestled back safely in her hanger.

The Thunderbird had escaped the avalanche by never landing, set to an autopilot hover by Scott upon his arrival to the danger zone because despite being smaller than Two, her VTOL posed just as much of a risk to the stability of the snow. With Gordon at the helm of Two, and a universal desire for the whole family to be together landing Alan in the co-pilot seat rather than their brother’s Thunderbird, it was up to John to remote pilot her home.

Hypothermia was not the only issue Scott had been hit with by the avalanche. None of them had done the exact calculations – John might have done, but if he had he hadn’t shared them – but Scott had been swept a fair distance by the sheer might of the snow and the journey had been far from smooth. Something had knocked him out in the tumble – what, Virgil couldn’t begin to decipher – and while his ribs were miraculously okay, thanks to the support of his flight suit, his left arm was bent awkwardly. Already, beneath the blankets, his skin was blossoming in the reds and purples of early bruising.

“Any change?” Alan asked, his hologram flickering into existence beside John’s. ��Gordon was just visible at the edge of the projection.

“He’s warming up,” Virgil assured them, eyes never leaving his eldest brother as shivers slowly intensified. “No sign of consciousness, though.” He leant forwards, running his hands gently through gelled hair. The scan didn’t indicate a concussion to accompany the rest of Scott’s injuries, but with no evidence for why he was remaining unconscious barring the hypothermia itself, Virgil needed a more hands’ on check to reassure himself that there would be no further complications.

“We’re almost home,” Gordon chipped in. “Make sure you’re both ready for the landing.”

“F.A.B.”

Securing Scott was easy, straps looping over him and cinching tight but not too tight against the stretcher. The temptation to stay standing beside him, watching like a hawk for any sign of change – good or otherwise – was strong, but John made a small noise in the back of his throat and Virgil forced himself to take the two paces away from the stretcher and collapse into a fold-out seat.

“Thunderbird One has landed,” the astronaut informed him, and Virgil managed something that was almost a smile.

“See you soon,” he said, and John returned the almost-smile before floating with purpose. With the limitations of the holograms, it was difficult to tell where he was headed, but Virgil knew there was only one place John wanted to be.

Their landing was soft, softer than Gordon had ever managed before, and Virgil shot out of his chair and back to Scott’s side as soon as he felt the wheels connect solidly with the runway. The touchdown had done nothing to disturb him, eyes still softly closed. His skin was pale, and the shivering was still gaining in intensity, but Scott’s face was as peaceful as Virgil had seen it since the Zero-X.

He pulled the scanner back out, running another one just for something to do as Gordon taxied them back into the hangar. Scott’s temperature had risen marginally, still too cold but headed in the right direction. He adjusted the blankets cocooning him as Thunderbird Two finished her rotation and the hydraulics either side of the module whirred into action, raising the body of the craft.

Someone had remembered to call ahead – a flash of guilt coursed through Virgil as he realised that should have been his job – because as the module door lowered, letting in the orange flickering light that indicated mechanical movement in the hangar, Grandma was standing there, arms crossed and finger tapping nervously. She didn’t wait for the door to finish lowering, jumping into the module as soon as she could and heading straight for them.

“What happened?” she asked, wrapping an arm around him firmly for a moment before taking the final step to Scott’s side and tutting at the results of the scan.

“Avalanche,” Virgil responded, even though he knew she knew. Old hands that had yet to lose most of their dexterity pulled at the blankets, exposing Scott’s throat enough for her to press two fingers to his pulse. “Nine survivors, one fatality.”

“Broken arm and extensive bruising,” she mused, light fingers dancing over her eldest grandson’s body as she confirmed the scanner’s results for herself. “His suit protected him from the worst of it. Let’s get him inside.” Virgil nodded, reaching out to activate the hover jets on the underside of the stretcher before releasing the clasps that held it to the wall. Hurried footsteps indicated the arrival of his younger brothers, finished with their flight checks and anxious to see their eldest brother.

“Is he awake yet?” Alan asked, blue eyes filled with hope. Virgil shook his head as Gordon placed a hand on the youngest’s shoulder.

“Your brother will be fine,” Grandma assured them all before he could find the words to explain Scott’s condition. “A little battered and bruised, and rather cold, but some rest and home cooking will sort him right out, you’ll see.”

Gordon’s mutter that home cooking would do more harm than good wasn’t as quiet as he’d clearly intended, but Grandma ignored the slight as she put a firm hand on the hovering stretcher and started to guide it towards the house. Virgil paused, checking his two younger brothers over thoroughly. Alan was pale, shaken at the sight of Scott’s limp body, while Gordon headed over to the discarded uniform and picked it up.

“He’ll be alright,” he told them. Both nodded sharply. “John’s coming down; Alan, why don’t you go meet him?”

Neither asked why John was coming down if Scott was going to be fine. It was a much appreciated fact that sometimes a hologram wasn’t enough for reassurance, and none of them would ever begrudge John the chance to be there in person. Alan nodded again and left.

“I’ll clear up here,” Gordon said. He was feeding the damp uniform through his hands, most likely unconsciously. Damp, half-melted snow littered the module, and the remaining pod. “Go help Grandma.”

Virgil didn’t protest, although he gave Gordon a final look over before turning to leave his ‘bird. They all needed to feel useful, finding something to do while they waited for Scott to wake up. He would have cleaned his ‘bird himself, but Gordon’s order had been a hidden plea: I want you with Scott.

“I want her spotless,” he said instead, and Gordon laughed.

“Yes, yes,” he dismissed. “Now go help Grandma keep Scott in bed.” Because that was going to be the hardest task of all. None of the Tracys made for a good patient, but Scott was the undisputed worst patient of all. Alan and Gordon would try for subtle, the elder blond with more success, escape attempts made when they were left alone for too long. John hid in Five, well-practiced in manipulating holograms to make him appear healthier than he actually was – although the arrival of EOS had put a stop to that particular trick. It was the thing that had finally got her into Scott’s good books. Virgil himself knew that he gave his brothers a little too much grief, largely because he knew how to treat his own ailments better than they did.

Scott didn’t bother with subtlety. The moment their backs were turned, and sometimes not even then, he would be forcing himself up and out of bed, determined to carry on working no matter what. He’d never been a good patient, but it had only worsened since their Dad’s crash. Knowing why didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Not bothering to change out of his uniform, he ran after Grandma and the stretcher, catching up with them just outside the infirmary doors. Scott was still unconscious, a fact that bothered him considering there was no sign of injury that would cause it, but it made transferring him from the stretcher to the soft bed far easier. A pile of warm blankets were gently tucked around him, mindful of the broken arm.

As Grandma fussed with an IV line, more a precaution than a necessity, Virgil turned his attention to the limb. It was a clean break, simple enough to reset and splint. Scott let out a noise of complaint as the bones were dragged back into place, and both he and Grandma immediately looked at him. Brow furrowed, hazed blue eyes flickered open.

“Scott?”

“Vrrgg?” his eldest brother slurred, eyes slowly focusing on him. “Whh..?”

“We’re home,” Virgil told him, resting a hand on the blankets over where Scott’s right shoulder was buried. “The rescue’s over.”

Scott blinked at him slowly, the haze of confusion not quite leaving his eyes.

“Rsscu?”

“Let’s focus on getting you warmed up for now, Scott,” Grandma cut in, smoothing his hair back gently. She gestured sharply with her other hand – hidden from Scott’s view – to the reset arm. Virgil took the hint, returning to strap it up, knowing that he’d need to mix up a proper cast for it if he wanted any chance of it healing properly with Scott’s reluctance to rest of any length of time.

“Buh-”

Scott’s protest was cut off by the door slamming open, the pitter-patter of Alan’s booted feet flying into the room. Behind him, at a more sedate pace, John followed, turquoise eyes raking over the scene in front of him sharply.

“Is he awake?” Alan asked, skidding to a stop by the bed. “Scott?”

“Ara?” Scott started. Virgil lunged up to stop him as he made his first attempt to get up.

“No, Scott,” he said firmly. “You’re still too cold.” Scott didn’t fight him, a sign that he was still confused. It didn’t go unnoticed by either Alan or John, the former losing his smile and the latter narrowing his eyes for a moment.

“Go get yourselves changed,” Grandma told them. “He’ll still be here when you come back.” Hoping she wasn’t including him in that order, Virgil busied himself with fussing over Scott, fixing the blankets he’d dislodged and hushing any attempts to ask about the rescue.

“It’s over,” he repeated as his two brothers left the room with orders from Grandma to also locate Gordon and make sure he got changed, too. “Stay still.”

“Virgil,” Grandma warned, and his shoulder slumped. “You too, young man. You’re still wearing some of the snow.”

He hadn’t noticed, but when she mentioned it he realised that the creases of his uniform still carried damp white.

“I won’t be long,” he promised Scott, who looked at him with wide blue eyes. They reminded Virgil of Alan. Usually it was Alan who reminded him of Scott; he didn’t like it the other way around. “I’ll bring you back a drink. Think you can manage that?”

“Drrnk?”

Virgil sighed, and turned to Grandma.

“I’ll bring him something,” he told her and she nodded with a tired smile.

“You do that,” she said. “Now go get out of that wet uniform before you catch a chill, too!”

With a last look at his brother, still too pale but thankfully shivering properly at last, he forced himself to leave the room.

When it came to Grandma, there were fights that could not be won, and unspoken orders to be heeded nonetheless. It was not as simple as tugging off his uniform, throwing on some casual clothes and running back into the infirmary with a warm, sugary drink in hand served with a straw to sip it with, so he begrudgingly threw himself under a hot shower, allowing his own body to warm up after too long in the snow himself, albeit not buried like his big brother. Still, a shower did not have to be long to be effective, even if he would usually take the time to let his muses grow amongst the gentle hiss of pouring water, and within five minutes he was thoroughly warm and worming his way into clean clothes. A quick blow with his hair dryer got the worst of the water out of his hair, but he forwent the gel to return it to its usual style. Certain younger brothers might have a field day about his hair not being carefully sculpted, but a certain hypothermic older brother was worth a little bit of pride.

John had beaten him to the kitchen, a hot squash – blackcurrant and apple, from Scott’s personal stash – steaming on the counter. Virgil glanced around the room to make sure nothing was broken.

“You haven’t taken it in?” he asked, wrapping a hand around the container. It was almost hot to the touch. John shrugged.

“I’d drop it,” he said, plucking a blue straw from the collection in the cupboard and neatly dropping it into the top of the cup. Virgil couldn’t disagree with the possibility and scooped it up, straw bobbing in the dark liquid, before continuing on to the infirmary.

Alan and Gordon were there, both out of uniform as per Grandma’s orders, and trying to get a laugh out of Scott, if their antics were anything to go by. Scott himself, Virgil was pleased to see, appeared less confused than when he’d left.

“I have a drink for you,” he announced, passing it to Grandma as he perched on the bed by Scott. “Think you can manage some sips?” Scott was still shivering but managed a grateful smile.

“Will i’ tas’e goo’?” he asked, still too cold to pronounce his words properly. Virgil gently brought the head of the bed up slightly before propping Scott up in a more upright position with the use of many pillows. Gordon helpfully readjusted the blankets as Alan crawled onto the bottom of the bed.

“It’s from your own stash,” he promised, taking it back from Grandma and holding the straw to his lips. “John made it hot, so be careful.”

“’M alway’ ca’ful.” Scott mumbled the biggest lie Virgil had ever heard before accepting the straw and taking a sip.

“If you say so,” he said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to help keep him in place as he drank. He was still cool to the touch, despite the blankets wrapped around him firmly.

Scott hissed as the liquid entered his mouth, and Virgil tightened his grip even as he rolled his eyes.

“I warned you,” he said lightly, as John entered the room and perched on the end of the bed, watching Scott carefully. Scott took another sip, more cautiously the second time.

...tbc one day..?

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #wip excerpt #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #grandma tracy #thunderwhump

21 notes · View notes

leesuhyo · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s talk about trauma.

(TW for trauma, obviously)

My parents always tell me how I was a quirky and cheerful child when I was little. Now the quirkiness is only there when I fake it.

I started school at the age of three. Kindergarten was fun, people there was okay. Sometimes they were mean, but it’s fine. I was happy. My teachers were nice.

Timeskip to primary school at six. Initially, I thought people would be the same, since it was the same school and all of my kindergarten friends were there. I thought the teachers would be nice.

They were not.

You learn quickly to not step out of line, because there would be consequences. If you even whisper in the corridors after assembly, detention for you. If you were even late to school for a minute, you stand next to the stairwell where the whole school gets to look at who is late, even though most people don’t. If you made a mistake, the teacher stands you outside the staffroom, and yells so loudly people in the upper and lower floors could hear.

Public humiliation was the most common form of punishment. It wasn’t encouraged, but girls can be mean at that age. Gradually peer pressure usually sets the norm.

If you don’t have a ‘friend group’ you’re weird.

Soon you learn to avert people’s eyes, even if they don’t have ill intentions.

You learn to jump whenever a teacher walks too close to you while lining up, because they scrutinise you, and drag whoever’s talking out and give them a severe scolding.

You learn to run to school, desperately trying not to be late because even if you were late due to traffic, you were still punished

You learn to fit into the norms, painfully, because your peers laugh at you if you don’t.

You learn to mistake even light-hearted teasing as scolding, because it usually starts that way. They ask you a rhetoric question, and it spirals into yelling.

You learn.

And that’s how the trauma sets in.

Secondary school at twelve. Pretty much nothing changed, except there is more homework, and more classes. More teachers to take note of, who to avoid and who to curry favour with. You learn to manipulate teachers to your favour, until you’re their favourite student. Even though you hate their subject.

You then learn more about the world. But not the right way, because this is a Catholic school. You learn that homosexuality is a sin. That mental illnesses exist, but they’re bad. That the internet is dangerous. That swearing is bad. And so on.

You also learn that boys are weird, because this was a girl’s school and there were no men, except for male teachers. Your classmates say all sorts of strange things about boys. They’re weird, but they’re cute. Going to after-school tutorial classes with students from that boys’ school down that road makes you feel weird, and you feel instinctively defensive despite them not looking at you.

Sixteen. First year of public exams. You sleep at 2am, drag yourself out of bed at 7am to arrive at school at 8am. You’re tired all the time, but your peers are tired all the time too. I slept at 1am. Oh yeah? Well I slept at 2am. The continued toxic cycle of bad habits.

The only source of happiness around you comes from your favourite singer, because back then you’re struggling to find friends after your best friend transferred schools due to her depression. You try to write down a list of reasons of why you liked him to remember how to feel. Ew, what are you doing? 100 reasons why I like ____? That’s so creepy. You stay silent, turn a new page, and continue writing stories to drown out the maths lecture going on.

You start healing a little when you were sixteen. You start to get angry at social issues, and managed to find your own group of misfits who doesn’t want to follow the norm. You start to feel at home at your drama group, where you applied for, out of a leap of faith.

Do you want to study overseas?

Seventeen. Your mother suggested for you to study overseas, and you don’t want to, because you only just found your friends. But you don’t have a choice, because your old school doesn’t have the only subject you’re good at. You found out later through a scolding in the corridor by the headmistress that in fact, they did have that subject after you applied for it, and you’re a traitor for ‘betraying the school’s trust’.

Seventeen. You start studying at a new school in another country twelve hours’ flight from home, a new environment. And you’re panicking because you had arrived two weeks late and everyone has friends. You throw yourself into your schoolwork to distract yourself from the creeping depression, and stay close to the teachers. You avoid your classmates, girls who seemed so much confident of themselves and boys. Suddenly your determined plan to make a new role for yourself seem insignificant.

And then one of the girls started approaching you. You feel wary because your past experience taught you girls cannot be trusted. But she was friendly, and you decided to get a little closer. Nonetheless, your only trusted figure is your house parent, who is so kind as to stay behind every night to listen to your crying and ranting.

Halfway through the year. Your older cousin, an established and popular prefect at the school, became one of your topic starters and you decided to let your guard down a little. You’re still wary of the group of girls who were first introduced to you though, because they wear makeup, they were interested in fashion, they were girly and popular, people your past experience had taught not to associate with.

(You also learn that the teachers are nice. They aren’t strict authority figures, and were bewildered why you didn’t go to them for help when you needed it, because you learnt to keep quiet and just power your way through things. You slowly learn to stop flinching at a raised voice, and even found your teachers for insignificant things. Staying behind to talk about his favourite book, for example.)

Christmas came, and you became reluctant to leave the school to your parents. After Christmas break though, you were reluctant to go back to the school because you had no friends. Nonetheless you went back, and made new friends in the year above you. You slowly grow back into the community and even laughed with your new friends.

And then your house parent told you she’s changing jobs. You cried a lot, but she promised to write. She tells you to seek out one of the school nurses. You did. To this day she’s still your confidant.

Then coronavirus struck. Your closest friend decided not to go back, because her parents were afraid of her staying in a high-risk country. You throw yourself into prepping for your university applications, because that’s the only goal in front of you now.

It was announced prefects were being chosen. In your old school leadership positions were widely sought after and considered a badge of honour, so you try to take on as many as possible. The teachers told you it was a bad idea, but you did it anyways. It was only later you realised, the responsibility attached was more than the honour it gives.

(You weren’t chosen for prefect, but it was okay. The teacher was biased anyways)

September 2020. Coronavirus is still an issue, but you decided to go back to school. You were still afraid, but you had friends ( - acquaintances, really) and a few valuable leadership positions that gives you a purpose. You steel yourself anyways, because the dormitory you were about to move into don’t have any of your old friends.

October 2020. You have new friends. You managed to piece your life together, and for the first time, you actually have a decent social life. But beneath the facade, you’re still afraid. You’re still nervous. You’re still afraid of getting close to people, because what if they abandon you?

But it didn’t matter. You’re healing.

#trauma #childhood trauma #depression #anxiety #mental illness #Mental health #mental health awareness #social anxiety #mental disorders #this went on so long and i'm sorry

20 notes · View notes

thecuriouskit · 3 years ago

Text

Where and how do I fit in?

To whom it may concern.

As I get older, I’m starting to realise the limitations caused by my autism, and I’m struggling to accept that because of facing a society that does not like it when adults are not self-sufficient, or when they have to deal with a “man-child”. Economically, I am a net loss - I take more than I give financially, and that makes me selfish, both in the eyes of the person on the street as well as bankers and politicians. I struggle to keep my flat clean and make ends meet financially. “Get a job”, “earn a f***ing living” I hear a lot, and I have tried, but my ‘design’ is just terrible because I’m very introverted (and people try to force me into very social situations to be a 'healthy introvert’… in other words, an extravert) and don’t do well in open-plan office environments, which are really the only options today because it allows managers to keep an eye on everyone and, from a practical perspective, is easier when it comes to laying network cables and power conduits, for example. But I get very anxious whenever people are walking around behind me and there’s so much uncontained noise.

Truthfully, I’ve found in the UK, and maybe other countries, that many people really don’t like those who are more intelligent than them. They may say the opposite, but behind their backs (or sometimes in plain sight), they mock specialist interests. Once I was even threatened with outright violence by a so-called friend if I talked about mathematics in front of her, and my own mother agrees that i keep my mouth shut to preserve the status quo and not make people 'uncomfortable’. My father says those on the spectrum are the future, but are we really? To reach our full potential we need the right environment and support group, but who would want to be our caretakers? It’s not fair on them, and I would not want someone to sacrifice their life to look after me like they were a housewife, valet or a servant.

I’m ashamed to say that I generally don’t get on with others on the spectrum because we all have our different interests and quirks, but also our feelings and how we react to things, and what may be fine or beneficial for one person is sensual overload for another. I unfortunately have also experienced situations where the other party doesn’t realise and doesn’t understand that they might have hurt my feelings with something they’ve said or done, and either 'congratulate’ me for identifying past trauma as the reason (which I find incredibly patronising as well as the implication that it invalidates my feelings) or criticise me because, in their eyes, there’s no logical reason for me to feel that way. One person even, in a monotone voice, said “You’re having a panic attack; do you want a beta blocker?” (which was actually illegally obtained). I of course sceamed “no”, which only worsened the situation because now they felt attacked.

As painful as it is, what I once saw as a curse, then saw as a gift, I now see as a curse again. I cannot survive by myself in this modern world, but I’m not friendship nor relationship material because, put simply, I make people uncomfortable and I’m not healthy for them (those were the words one person used). Facebook and other social media tell people to cut out the negativity in their lives, and I fall into that definition. My interests, my quirks… they are abnormal. The whole thing of “be yourself” and “don’t worry about what others think” is a complete farce, because you do that, and you get sectioned, fired, ostracised or just plain ridiculed.

Part of me needs a regimented structure and a person who can be an emotional anchor for me, but even today, emotion is seen as weakness and attention-seeking, but I don’t need so much structure to the point that my very feelings are dictated and I can’t practise being creative (one person I know cannot build Lego without instructions… even when it comes to making their own things, they have to draw plans first and cannot do anything on the fly, which can cause a conflict if I want to experiment, for example).

In a way, I need to be treated like a child, or at least allowed to be a child, but I say that and that will just encourage condescending attitudes towards me and infantilisation like the in-your-face sing-song “hello” or a high-pitched voice that people do with babies all too frequently.

I don’t konw where I’m going with this. I’m just ranting and splurging, spilling out everything that’s on my mind. On Monday I was actually close to suicide because I was asked to drive to my father, who lives about 45 minutes away, and even though I gave myself 70 minutes, I was very late anyway (which meant I couldn’t see a representitive at an insurance company since I’m being ripped off by my current provider) bnecause of three separate traffic jams, one of which was caused by a horserace that crosses a main road (which is closed during that time). I just feel I’m unreliable and poor at planning and organiseation because whenever someone asks me to do something, I either forget something (if not the appointment itself) or fate works against me. My father has taken the view of “it is what it is”, but I cannot abide by that because while accepting there are some things in life you can’t control or predict, just accepting things as they are is what allows corruption to run rampant, whether it’s a manager or director denying the employees promised bonuses during a good company year while buying themselves a new Porsche with the profits, to insurance companies happily charging you three times what you should be paying because they know most people won’t shop around for other quotes or want to go through the hassle of changing (and I easily freak out on the telephone because it’s just a dismembered voice to me) to simply lying and manipulating people for their own benefit. It’s worse with me because I can’t see deceit unless it’s a claim that’s easily disproven. I briefly wanted to end it all because I am a net loss to the economy, I’m friendless and I can’t be relied on. If I die, I’ll be forgotten in a few years as the world goes on like I never existed. It begs the question… what’s the point? I’m not allowed to just live because of monetary concerns and 'considering other people’. Right now, I just survive.

I’m not sure what I need and what I should change about myself. All I know is that trying to fight against my true self just ends up destroying me. I may want to be neurotypical and more extraverted, but I can’t just become those, and “not wanting it enough” doesn’t work in this case because you’re constantly fighting yourself, draining yourself of energy and spoons, and sooner or later, you’ll melt down, and then the police get called and you’re taken to hospital, while neighbours or whoever witnesses the meltdown will ensure you can’t bother them again by collaborating to get you evicted, dismissed from work because you’re creating a 'hostile work environment’ or 'threatening violence’ (I was sacked for that once when I tried to warn people not to manhandle me during a particularly triggering confrontation because then I don’t know what I’ll do… and this was from a company that was meant to specialise in autism).

Where’s the line drawn? When should those on the spectrum learn to adapt to and tolerate, and when should society change for them? When should I be expected to meet the standards and when should the standards change? I don’t have the answer, and through a mixture of my own actions and those of others, I am very much alone where I live… no true friends, no emotional anchor, no personal interaction, nothing (even if I’m in a city around many people, I still feel alone). I’m scared of joining clubs because of past experience with meltdowns and expecting to meet up at set times when my own sleep cycle is chaotic, or I may just not have the energy to go but I’m expected to. Also, one club became psychologically abusive for me, but once again, past trauma that invalidates how I feel.

Speaking of how I feel, I do wish I was more like Mr. Spock where everything is pure logic and I don’t feel anything, but then again, Vulcans and half-Vulcans DO feel, and I just don’t have the strength to suppress my emotions=. Where does that leave me? A group home with no freedom or autonomy? Evidently I can’t hold down a job, and I’ve been out of work forso long that I’ve had employment agents pretty much tell me to stop wasting their time, becaase no company is going to risk paying a finder’s fee for me no matter how good my skills are (albeit very niche nowadays).

The thing is, when somoene enters my house to offer help cleaning it or go through my financial statements to identify unnecessary expenditures, or just go through my stuff in general, I feel violated and incredibly anxious, but I feel I have no right to protest or resist. Besides, as my mother keeps saying… if you’re doing nothing wrong, what have you got to hide? The fear of being judged (and the consequences of that) or the right to privacy don’t seem to be valid answers.

What do I need? I don’t know… sometimes I just want a mother figure, but my actual mother is not an option. What do I want? I want to be useful. I want to belong. I want to be myself. I want to be… free.

#a kit's life #autism #rant

1 note · View note

fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

Text

934. I don’t want to be alone.

This was prompted by the wonderful @aurea-b! You asked for some heavy angst and I felt like it so I skipped one prompt from you. It will be up next though! it also kinda got long again XD Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: isolated character, android-android discrimination, mentioned violence)

The blue silhouettes engraved themselves into RK900’s mind and stark mission parameters guided his way. His processors were running hot with calculations, multiple pre-constructions running at once as he ducked, jumped, slid and climbed through the room in the most efficient way to reach his targets and eradicate them in one of his many pre-programmed ways. It was a welcomed feeling. Having his processors strained in an effort to keep his three subjects of protection save while clearing out every aggressor in the interchanging maze of blocks and obstacles. The overly satisfying pling of 'Level complete' was followed by the lights being dimmed and the obstacles sinking into the ground. RK900's eyes were immediately focussed on a new hologram emerging. This one was far more detailed and delicate, and he didn't even need to realise it was his handler. 'Well done, RK900. Another successful mission. Did you encounter any difficulties or errors in your system?' >No, Amanda. 'That's good to hear, RK900. Ready for another test?' > Yes, Amanda.

A warm smile tucked at the AIs mouth as she nodded and disappeared into thin air and the parkour began to build up again. A block rushed out of the ground in his direction as if it was an attack. RK900 dodged by jumping backwards and grabbing the ledge of the still rising block. He stood on top of it as his new mission parameters were updated and he spotted his target: A new hologram that was holding a gun, two grenades and hid another knife. RK900’s mission was simple: Not to get hit and to eliminate the target. It proved a bit more difficult as he sensed the enemy could manipulate the testing environment that now threatened to crush the android on the room’s ceiling. RK900 immediately slid off the block, keeping his hand against the surface while he was free-falling to the ground. The few seconds of falling with contact to the block was enough to hack one segment of the ground to cooperate with him. It rose to lessen the force of him hitting into it and formed a shield from the holographic bullets that had been fired his way. RK900 had long found the optimal strategy, although there was room for error. He chose the direct approach only to be stopped by the hologram, hack its defences and disappear, tricking the opponent to go investigate itself. Their confrontation was short and deadly, the fake grenades erupting around him, his systems informing him of damage that wasn’t really there.

As he was about to land the killing blow, the hologram suddenly vanished under him and he hit the ground hard enough to crack under his fist. All blocks slowly sank to the ground again, creating a smooth surface and the lights had gone out completely. RK900 looked around but couldn’t see a human or Amanda anywhere. His mission protocols were also still active. Was this a part of the tests? He reached out to Amanda, requesting a status update and reporting a malfunction of the training-room. Unfortunately, his ping was left unanswered and RK900 tried again. No one answered. It was dire enough to him that he contacted the AI personally. >Amanda? Connection lost. Please try the following steps: -check network adapter for damage -reboot unit -contact unit administrator

RK900 felt his stress levels rising. There was no human around he could contact and all connections to his handler were offline. He was utterly alone and that together with him knowing he wasn’t meant to work alone yet let his systems spike. He wasn’t ready, there was still testing to do in the labs, not to speak of field testing. His fans whirred in his chest and his artificial breath pushed out hot air. He was alone with no one to guide him; with mission parameters he couldn’t apply to any given scenario. Amanda was gone. He was alone. I don’t want to be alone.

The door opened. RK900 immediately fixed the human standing in the frame. ‘Hello? Anyone in there?’ The android turned fully to report: ‘There had been a malfunction in the training course. Connection to handler interrupted. Unit compromised. Be advised that the room is malfunctioning and possibly dangerous to human lives. Please standby until communication is reactivated.’ There was a chuckle. ‘Good thing we aren’t human. We switched her off.’ ‘That is a violation of Cyberlife guideline X77.6B: Only authorised personnel is allowed in the labs. You are trespassing. Please standby for security to accompany you out.’ ‘That won’t be necessary, trust me. We stand above Cyberlife.’ ‘Please state your name and security clearance.’ The answer was said jokingly, as if to mock him: ‘Markus Manfred and Connor Anderson. Security clearance: deviant.’ RK900 didn’t need anything else for his problem to solve itself. The inactive mission parameters of the training course were re-evaluated, and his more important base-programming surfaced. He identified his two targets, both unarmed and easy to subdue. It was only when he reached them and made contact during his attack, that a powerful virus surged through his systems, forcing him into stasis on the spot.

‘Hello. I’m an RK900 unit trying to imitate human behaviour. Would you like to be my friend?’

The other android threw him a polite, yet awkward smile and excused herself to join others. RK900 let his hand sink down and resumed wandering the halls. A lot of newly deviated androids had found refuge at New Jerico, an old building with several rooms, halls and even an atrium with a few plants and a garden. It was safe – so Connor had told him. Safe from people who meant them harm, safe for them to accommodate to deviancy and get to know themselves. RK900 stuck out in more than one of these categories: The most obvious one would be that he wasn’t deviant. Markus had infected him with the virus, but it was dormant. It would need emotional turmoil to awaken him truly and his programming to not try and quarantine the little program whenever it acted up. The other detail that made it difficult to fit in was his initial purpose. He had only later learned that his mission to exterminate deviants was invalid now and that being deviant was now the new status quo. Still. He regretted not even having one person to talk to. How should he ever become deviant himself if he had no contact to them?

He wandered the halls, taking in everything that made New Jericho not exactly as save as it should have been. A forgotten door in the third storey that led to a small roof. A few people on the streets observing the building for multiple days. A human reporter that had snuck in once. He dutifully reported it to one of the figures of authority here, mostly North and Josh as they were present more often. Other than that, contact to other people stayed at a minimum. Not that he didn’t try, he just couldn’t keep up with them. There were the good days when Markus visited. He was the only one still honestly trying to deviate him, drawing with him where others had long since given up and just laughed when he stubbornly drew objects in the room again and again even with eyes closed. He… [liked] the android leader and sometimes asked himself why he had been instructed to kill someone this peaceful and calm. But he wasn’t there all the time, mostly just when newly deviated androids were joining them.

RK900 attended all of the community meetings, hoping to “get to know people” as Markus had suggested, but without any luck. He had managed to talk to a few people, some even stayed with him initially, but as soon as they met someone else, they were gone. It felt… [bad]. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but to fail at what all these around him had no problems doing, to even be avoided as it seemed… RK900 had decided that was not a good feeling. He stood to the side of the gathering as a new deviant was introduced – a PL600 unit, shaky and with obvious damage on his hull underneath a malfunctioning artificial skin. One anxious look of the android towards the crowd was enough for RK900 to know there was no chance he would succeed with this one. There was no need to try when he knew he would just be disappointed again.

He looked around trying to find a quick and inconspicuous way out of the room, as he saw North sitting in a corner by herself. She watched the gathering rather bored and let a flick knife dance through her hands with a speed and agility that was fascinating the RK. He only realised he was walking towards her, when she looked up, catching the knife from the air perfectly balancing it on one finger, before securing it.

RK900 now stood next to her. ‘What you are doing - I like that. Could you teach me how to do that?’ She sighed: ‘I would love to, but I’m not allowed.’ RK900 nodded, shaking off the feeling of [disappointment] he shouldn’t have. ‘I see. Why?’ ‘It is potentially dangerous’, North told him, adding after a deliberate pause: ‘And you are the deviant exterminator. I can’t give you anything that could be used as a weapon until you deviated. The risk is too high you could break the barriers we installed, and your base programming would become active again.’ RK900 nodded after a flash of red, thanked her nonetheless and walked away as he had initially intended.

Deviant Exterminator. It rang a bell. He tried to remember the faces of the other androids around him, the ones he had talked to and realisation hit him. They were afraid of him. They had to know what he were and it was only logical for them to fear him, even if who he was didn’t conform with what he was meant to be any more.

I don’t want to be alone. Maybe he would have to get used to it after all.

RK900 had spent two years at New Jericho. He still wandered the hallways and rooms, watching out for any eventual danger to the people inside and reporting to the authorities. He still drew with Markus whenever he was there and still made him laugh when he told him that no, that was nothing original, just some photo someone had uploaded from their vacation to the beach. RK900 decided that he [liked] the sea. He [wished] he would one day see it himself. He still was utterly alone, but he managed. At some point I don’t want to be alone had shifted to I will always be alone. The cold acceptance of the matter had something final, something definitive, something absolute. And a machine liked thinking in absolutes. He timed his patrols so anyone who wanted to avoid him could easily stick to his timetable and not be afraid because of him. His newfound purpose as a guardian of the place made the loneliness a bit easier to stomach.

‘There you are!’ RK900 turned around to the familiar yet surprising voice. Connor hadn’t visited him since the anniversary of him being taken from Cyberlife. Being freed as he had called it – a reason to celebrate. All RK900 knew was that back then he hadn’t been alone. Although he of course knew this arrangement was far better for all the deviants out there who were not threatened by some rogue AI sending out killing machines. ‘Hello, Connor. What can I do for you?’, RK900 asked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stick to his schedule now and was to scare some unsuspecting androids later because of this conversation. ‘Actually, I just wanted to talk. I heard you took to guarding this place? I heard you send everyone your timed positions on patrol.’ RK900 nodded. ‘Can we talk while we walk?’, he asked. ‘Of course!’ Connor was fast to catch up to him and continued his path. While they walked through the rooms, they saw a few persons leave or change direction, something RK900 was used to, but seemed to throw off his predecessor. ‘They are afraid of me’, he explained. ‘I can’t blame them.’ ‘Why?’ ‘I’m the deviant exterminator.’ ‘So?’ ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘Yeah well, I’m the deviant hunter. They don’t fear me.’ ‘You are deviant. And you helped during the revolution.’ ‘Okay, point taken’, he chuckled. ‘I reckon you don’t like it here then?’ ‘I… I like it alright. I’m just…’ Red warnings flared up at the thought. As long as he had accepted it as exceptions his systems didn’t reprimanded him for it, but talking about it… ‘I fail at socialising. I am not programmed for failure.’ ‘I guess everyone would be lonely after two years trapped in here’, Connor commented of course seeing through his mechanic excuses. ‘I am not trapped. It is safer this way and I would be overwhelmed outside.’ ‘That’s what they tell you or your own assessment?’, Connor prodded. ‘It is the truth.’ ‘What a shame. And here I thought I were doing you a favour helping you out of this place.’

RK900 stopped. That was an option? Connor smiled at him. ‘So you do like to go outside?’ ‘Y-Yes. But I can’t, there would be too much risk and-‘ ‘Risk for deviants’, the RK800 interrupted. ‘Your base programming says nothing of humans, right?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And when your handler gives you an order you still have to obey, right?’ ‘Mission parameters of the handler are of higher priority than base programming.’ ‘I’d say there is nothing wrong with you living under humans. And seeing as you took up the protection of other all on your own, I guess you like that?’ ‘I do.’ ‘Perfect. Then what are your thoughts on working with the Detroit Police?’

RK900 joined the police as a permanent android officer. He had his own stasis booth, his own desk and computer and was to accompany humans on any mission that might be deemed dangerous and that would need his backup. Of course, he could only be called to human crimes and mostly he was out with drug related crimes, as androids were seldomly involved in recreational drug abuse only humans could experience. He got to know more people as he had in his years at New Jericho, even though it remained idle chatter. There was only so much entertainment a machine could offer. But he felt like he belonged, even if he still was isolated.

They were on yet another mission and sat in the truck as his handler reminded him of the addition to his base programming [keep humans safe] and instructed him to go after the criminals if he got the chance, but not to risk it. RK900 nodded and leaned back to scan the other people on the mission. Officer Brown. Officer Wilson. Detective Ben Collins and [D3/3ctiVe Re_#]. He blinked and scanned the man again. Detective Reed. He didn’t know why the man let his systems spike. In the beginning he had hoped to deepen their relationship to something more than a brief nod in the hallways. But the fact that the human did speak more to him was overshadowed by the fact that most of these words were anti-android phrases, derogatory terms and nicknames. It had to be that Detective Gavin Reed was a [bad] human and [not a friend]. Still something in him was [happy] to have him on the team or be partnered up with him for a job. He guessed it was because of the human’s competence and let it be.

The van parked in front of a building and RK900 saw most of the humans inhale and brace themselves before the android pulled the door open and the team charged in. Drug busts were chaotic but the faster they were the more likely they were to surprise them and the less likely they were to be prepared for a gunfight. Of course, this was all just calculation and RK900 braced for the worst outcome. They entered the building and jogged through the hallways following RK900 who had located the men already. Seven humans, all armed according to badly secured CCTV the android was quick to hack. He informed the others and opened more doors for them to finally storm the room they used for a lab.

Unfortunately, as RK900 hacked the last lock, the door sent an alarm to them and their surprise was lost. The android barged in, immediately focussing fire on him to shield the humans taking position behind him. As he ran into the room, he noticed one human didn’t take cover by the door like the rest of them but used him to get a better one further in the front. Reed. Or course. Always thinking his tactical assessment was far beyond what they had talked over. He let the human do what he wanted – it could be an advantage after all - and protected him as best as he could.

‘RK! Get that bastard!’ The android looked up to see one of the criminals try to flee. A logical decision. The humans had this under control, and he could catch the last one. Except that the Detective seemed to have his own ideas again and followed him. Halfway across the room he lost the advantage of RK900 as a shield though and went down with a cry. Immediately RK900 let himself fall too and pulled the man to safety behind cover. He may have been ordered to chase the criminal, but he was also ordered to not take any risk and to protect humans. He knew he could accomplish all of that. So, after he had pulled the Detective behind cover, he was about to run after the fugitive again, as there was a weak pull on his trouser leg. RK900 turned around to hear what the human had to say. ‘Nines! Please. Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone. Please stay.’

RK900 heard his fans activating as if it was a different android body next to him as red flooded his HUD to the brim with warnings, quarantine status updates, virus messages and the mess of simulated feelings clashing with warnings. He wanted it all o go away, it hurt, and it kept him from action. So he punched it. He raised his fist with all his strength to fight that barrier down. He had to protect them, he had to chase the criminal, he had a job to do. He couldn’t be kept from that by his damn programming.

The red shattered. And with it all determination. Gone were the barred lines of base programming telling him to kill all deviants. Gone was the code that held him from emoting. Gone was the need to chase that criminal. The only thing that stayed was this human wanting him to stay. This weird, angry man that wanted him to stay with him, begged him to do it. Because he didn’t want to be alone. And oh, how RK900 knew that feeling of loneliness. He stayed with the human. He pressed his hand on the wound, called an ambulance and stayed with him as the other humans cleared the room and went after the fugitive. He stayed with him through the ambulance ride and he stayed with him in the hospital as he waited for the man to wake up again.

It was already dark and RK900 had activated a very dim light next to the bed, as the human jerked back to consciousness. RK900 carefully put a hand on his shoulder to lay him back down, reassuring him: ‘Shh, you can relax. I won’t hurt you. You are in the hospital. Your wounds were severe, but you are treated for them and you will heal properly. I’m here. You won’t be alone.’ The Detective coughed but relaxed. He looked the android up and down, unsure what to make of him, then nodded. ‘Thank you’, he whispered, hoarse from not using his voice for quite some time. ‘What’s with the others?’ ‘No casualties’, RK900 reported. ‘A few lightly wounded. All have left the hospital already and are back at work. The criminal… managed to escape. I am sorry.’

Gavin propped himself up a bit, hissing at some forgotten pain, but RK900 let him. He looked at him quizzically then. ‘Why the phck should you be sorry?’ ‘I had the order to catch him. I deviated to stay with you. That is both refusal to obey orders and a damage to my mainframe. If you want me to be reset, I can understand.’ ‘You- I- what?’ ‘If you want me to be reset because I failed my mission, I understand, Detective.’ ‘What the- No! The hell? I wouldn’t reset you, toaster. You saved my phcking life! That’s a good thing. You- You guys are persons now. If deviant or not, no one would say you failed your mission?’

The human looked upset, something RK900 couldn’t understand. He cocked his head in confusion. ‘You… won’t… reset me?’ ‘Hell no. I wouldn’t change a thing about you. And you certainly won’t be punished by anyone. We are partners. Partners look out for each other.’ ‘That is… I can’t…’ RK900 wasn’t sure what others gained from deviancy, he was just overwhelmed. ‘Thank you, Detective.’ ‘Hey, no problem at all, buddy.’ He coughed again, heavier this time. ‘Hey, err… Would you mind getting me a glass of water?’ ‘Of course, Detective.’ He stood up thankful for an order to guide him. ‘And tin-can?’ RK900 turned towards him at the door. ‘It’s Gavin.’

RK900 left the room to find a vending machine or water dispenser to get the human some water. On his way he smiled; something he wasn’t sure to have ever done in earnest.

I am not alone anymore.

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #God I'm such a sucker for them #the new fandom I'm in managed to pull me away from my android bois for two milliseconds #now I'm back on my bullshit #THEY WENT TO THE BEACH ON VACATION!!! LATER!#I mean Gavin most likely got medical leave but is fine you know the way he totally isn't fine but too stubborn to care #and they go there together and are happy #phck I wanna write that now too #Maybe tonight #too many projects to obsess over goddamnit

53 notes · View notes

armageddon-generation · 5 years ago

Text

The Big Moffat Rewrite: Series 7

Following on from my Series 5 and my Series 6 rewrites

XMAS SPECIAL The Snowmen

The Bells of Saint John

The Rings of Akhaten

Cold War

A Town Called Mercy

The Slow Invasion

Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS

Asylum of the Cybermen

Nightmare in Silver

Dinosaurs on a Spaceship

Hide

Supremacy of the Daleks

Extermination of the Daleks

The Name of the Doctor

The Snowmen

· 11 is still a recluse in Victorian London, but because in my Series 6 he left the Ponds instead of losing them, it’s because he’s convinced he’ll screw up if he travels again. After wiping himself from history he’s lying low, not helping because he’s convinced he’ll make things worse

· (also he’s totally wallowing in self-pity because of his self-imposed exile from the Ponds)

· Clara re-convinces him he can make positive change, drags him out of his self-absorption, shows him something new

CLARA’s CHARACTER

· Clara gets all of series 7. Moffat originally wanted The Time of the Doctor to be a whole series, so we can fit some of that stuff about the Silence and Trenzalore in here.

· GIVE CLARA A FUCKING ARC – the Doctor takes an ordinary girl who he thinks is special, and accidentally makes her special

· Most people seem to prefer Victorian! Clara to her in S7B anyway, so she becomes that flirty, authoritative character by the finale

· The pieces were already there – her being scared in Cold War compared to her taking charge in Nightmare in Silver, but make it explicit – the Doctor realises he is changing Clara and turning her into the person he met in Victorian London and the Cyberman Asylum

· This sets up her arcs and relationship with 12 – he brings out the liar in her, forces her to become cold and calculating. This is now already happening with 11

The Rings of Akhaten

· Introduce Trisha Lem, the head of the Church of the Silence, here. The best part of this episode is The Speech, but we could easily say that the Silence is presiding over the Long Song ceremony to appease the Old God, taking the place of those creatures hunting the little girl.

· (I imagine the Church pre-Trenzalore as a kind of Shadow Proclamation for religion - presiding over and safeguarding the religious traditions of species across the universe)

· This way Trisha and the Silence’s role as confessionals doesn’t come out of nowhere in The Time of the Doctor

· 11 and Trisha’s relationship being so flirty confuses me - as the head of the Church, 11 must associate her with all the pain the Silence caused River and the Ponds. Instead, he acts really flirty but Clara notices he’s faking it – a reflection of their own relationship?

· Trisha doesn’t understand why 11 is being elusive.

A Town Called Mercy

· Use this story’s framework – a Western where 11 is forced to protect war criminal – and insert River

· Partly bc River and Clara interacting seems super interesting

· River is angry at 11 for ‘replacing’ the Ponds. I also think she’d be competitive with Clara? As she’s scattered all over the Doctor’s timestream, Clara is the only person who really could compete with her

· As an archaeologist expert on the Doctor River knows about Clara, but can’t tell 11 exactly what she is

· Also 11 agreeing with River’s more violent methodology is really interesting and shows how they can feed into each other’s dark sides – think River’s line from The Angels Take Manhattan – “One psychopath per TARDIS, don’t you think?”

The Slow Invasion

· A version of The Power of Three told from the perspective of the Alice character who replaced Craig in S5/6. 11 pops in and out of her life with different versions of Clara

· It’s revealed that 11 has tried to travel with different versions of Clara before, tracking her down all across the universe, but she always, always dies. Our Clara doesn’t know.

· Alice is deeply critical of what 11 is doing. She acts almost as his therapist; he comes over for tea and talks to her about what’s going on.

· Instead of the cubes being alien exterminators, this is a plot buy the Great Intelligence (series 7′s big bad) inspired by the Skith from DWM comic The First and Superman villain Brainiac – i.e. the Intelligence is collecting all information it can about a thing, and then destroys it to stop that knowledge becoming commonplace and therefore losing its value. Specifically, the Intelligence is also investigating Clara (because she keeps appearing across its timeline). The Intelligence’s fascination is a dark parallel to 11’s

· Alice asks 11 what happened to the Ponds, and he reveals they still think he’s dead. Alice tells 11 to go see them (the ending scenes of The Doctor, the Widow and The Wardrobe). She also tells him to start treating Clara like a real person, not a human question mark

· 11 takes Clara to meet them. River is also there, having dinner. The episode closes with them reconnecting

Pond Life

· After The Slow Invasion launch this minisode series about life post-11, with River barging in instead of the Doctor

Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS

· Tie the TARDIS disliking Clara into the series arc – it’s because the TARDIS knows Clara is an anomaly scattered through the Doctor’s timestream. Have a scene in Journey To the Centre of the TARDIS where 11 argues with the TARDIS about it – “Do you know what she is? You do, don’t you? I miss the time when you could talk and just tell me.”

· The TARDIS went to the end of the universe to throw Jack Harkness off, and 11 abandoned Future!Amy in The Girl Who Waited because the TARDIS hates paradoxes – this is the same kind of thing, just make it clear by the finale (Clara even jumps into the time stream INSIDE the TARDIS)

· Clara remembers the events of the episode so she can be be active in the investigation of who she is, (also fixing how the episode undoes the three brothers’ arcs, but still insists they grew as people at the end)

This represents 11 opening up to her and trusting her more

Asylum of the Daleks (retitled Asylum of the Cybermen)

Roll Nightmare in Silver and Asylum into a 2-parter, because the best part of Nightmare is Mister Clever. Both episodes even have the same ‘someone’s about to destroy the planet’ ticking time bomb.

The army fighting the Cybermen kidnap 11 to get him to destroy the Asylum with a bunch of expendable grunts they can afford to lose to a suicide mission.· Clara meeting/interacting with another version of herself is really interesting, so we keep converted Oswin saving them·

Changing it to Asylum of the Cybermen makes more sense thematically

All those people, including Oswin, being converted – the Asylum’s security system is its conversion machinery – attackers become part of the security system. Instead of a nano-cloud, use the tiny upgraded Cybermats·

It would also be scarier (a haunted hospital a la World Enough and Time- botched cybermen > insane Daleks) and would add an interesting layer to Cyberman lore instead of making the Daleks look weak. It can also use old models to explain the Cybermen’s multiple backstories, touched on in The Doctor Falls (”everywhere there’s people, there’s cybermen,” 12 says)·

The ‘subtracting love’ thing makes more sense with cybermen too – instead of Amy and Rory, focus on Clara holding onto her connection with 11 – emphasising their genuine, emotion-based bond over ‘flirty quirky plot device’·

This renewed focus on the Cybermen is good because the last full-on Cyberman story was in Series 2 (in The Next Doctor they’re just kind of in the background), and Moffat is much better at writing the body-horror of the Cybermen than he is writing the Daleks.

Nightmare in Silver

· 11 deliberately lets himself be ‘infected’ by the asylum’s nanocloud and begins conversion in attempt to save the converted Oswin’s mind.

· Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the origin of Handles, the Cyberman head from The Time of The Doctor: the remains of Oswin’s cyber-converted mind downloaded into a head.

· 11 uses Mr Clever to get information about her - i.e. that she just appeared one day as a fully-formed person without any family. This sets up the other Claras being time remnants.

· It also lets Mr Clever play more psychological games with 11 and Clara – Mr Clever reveals 11 is scared of Clara, putting more strain on Clara having to hold on to her emotional attatchments

· The Cybermen are actively trying to get out. This way we dig into their primary drive – survival at all costs,

· What happens when a Cyberman’s emotional inhibitor is broken, but they don’t die? Driven insane and desperate, and fiercely intelligent.

· I like the idea of the Cybermen like the Xenomorph in Alien; blending in with thoier broken down, mechanical environment, plugging into it and using to separate and play games with the soldiers.

Dinosaurs on a Spaceship

· Replace The Crimson Horror with a version of Dinosaurs on a Spaceship with the Paternoster Gang replacing Brian, the Ponds, Nefertiti and that hunter bloke

· I just really need to see Vastra interacting with her culture OK? Seeing her be taken back to her childhood, opening up to Jenny about it. Her anger, realising what the villain Solomon has done to her people. Use this conflict to call back to and explain how she met the Doctor, how he stopped her slaughtering humans before.

· Clara and 11 go to the Paternoster Gang for help investigating her other selves

· Clara researches and finds her past selves, not only in Victorian London but also throughout the 60s and 70s, when she’s helping the past Doctors – finding this research is how the kids find out she’s a time traveller

· This is how THE DOCTOR REALISES HE’S SEEN HER MANY TIMES BEFORE, setting up The Name of the Doctor’s out-of-nowhere, un-guessable resolution.

· Dark!11 again. Matt saoid they would’ve explored a ‘meaneer’ version if he’d stayed on for series 8. Clara is the perfect way to bring that out as they lie and manipulate each other for their own ends.

DALEK CIVIL WAR STORY

· Progenitor Daleks vs the regular Time War model. Display how the Progenitor Daleks are different - each of them having a different weapon/role etc. The crux of the story is that the Progenitor Daleks are better at fighting the Doctor and come close to killing him, but the other Daleks value their ‘purity’ and survival more

· Maximum Dark!11

The Name of the Doctor

· When 11 rescues Clara she is changed – she retains bits and pieces of her time remnants’ experiences, it’s at once traumatising and exhilarating

The Time of the Doctor

· Whereas The End of Time felt stretched-out (135 minutes) this felt really rushed. Make it 2 parts.

· We see the set-up of Trenzalore and the Church of Silence in the first.

· The second part is the long siege of Trenzalore – we need to see 11 age fighting these monsters, taking his turn being left behind, the tragedy of him slowly losing his memory, focusing on his character

· We can also flesh out the citizens of Trenzalore and Christmas so their safety is important to us

· Let’s see Madame Kovarian and her splinter cell break off from the main Church of Silence and leave to try and kill the Doctor – make her a supporting character

· Then have Trisha Lem explicitly talk to the Doctor about how Kovarian blowing up the TARDIS caused the cracks in the universe in the first place, allowing the Time Lords to get their message out. Instead of a montage, have this be the moment that unites the Doctor and the Silence – they are both fighting to make up for their mistakes and the problems they caused

· We see the many races surrounding Trenzalore form the alliance from The Pandorica Opens

12 notes · View notes

exordiumed · 6 years ago

Text

prescience

↳ superpower au | college au | friends to lovers au

pairing: oh sehun & you (featuring kim jongin, do kyungsoo, park chanyeol)

genre: fluff + barely there angst

word count: 4.016 words

summary: he could see the future, but he never saw you coming

You would think that having precognition powers would be quite beneficial, being able to stay out of danger and such.

But for Sehun, he rarely uses his powers, if ever. He likes not knowing what’s going to happen, or so he says. He likes being on his toes, the unknown, a real challenge.

And then there was you. The biggest unknown in his life.

Sehun remembers the day he discovered his powers. The day of his 16th birthday. He was walking home from school, when he had a total Raven Baxter moment where he had a vision of his friends and family setting up birthday party decorations in his home and then hiding. Confused, he shook off the vision and chalked it up to his subconscious’s wishful thinking.

Or so he thought, until he opened his front door and was greeted by utter silence. Shrugging off his backpack and toe-ing off his shoes, he decided to try something.

“Guys, I know you’re all here the surprise party didn’t work.”

His statement was met with groans and “aww’s” and a “who told you?!”. Sehun shrugged and told them he just had a feeling. A feeling that would happen to him a lot more frequently than he would’ve liked.

The second time his powers was made known to him, was a week before his grandmother passed away. This time, the vision showed him his grandmother flatlining, and her funeral. Disturbed by this, he decided to visit his grandmother everyday of the week, until she passed. But Sehun still didn’t believe he could see the future, maybe it was just pure luck, he thought.

The third time it happened, well, let’s say Sehun was less convinced of it being luck and more of him actually having a superpower. This time, he was out with his friends, walking around town after having dinner together. Once again, he saw into the future. This time, he saw someone run up to a random lady, rob them, and then run away.

“Someone’s going to rob that lady,” he said.

His friends halted their steps and turned to look at him like he grew a second head.

“Uhh.. What are you talking about?”

Sehun titled his head in the woman’s direction and watched.

Sure enough, some random mugger came running up behind her, snatched her handbag and ran off. But not too far off because Sehun was ready for him and surprised him by tackling him and ripping the lady’s handbag off of his grubby hands.

After calling the police, and returning the stolen bag, his friends asked him a question he was still trying to figure out the answer to.

“How’d you know that was gonna happen?”

And then one day, he got his answer.

His mind filled to the brim with questions of his visions, his knowledge of things happening before they happened, he decided to ask his father. He just had a feeling his father would hold the answers he needed.

And hold the answers he did.

A knowing smile appeared on his father’s face the moment Sehun came to him about his questions of having visions and seeing the future. The two sat down in the living room and suddenly Sehun was introduced to a world he thought only existed in comic books and movies. It turns out, his father had powers too, telekinesis. And so did his grandparents, and his great-grandparents and so on. Apparently, he was from a long line of superpowered humans, also known as metahumans. They’re not really common knowledge to the general public, in fear of their reaction and potential conflict between the two communities.

His dad figured Sehun didn’t have any powers since, he married a non-superpowered human and also, powers don’t take too long to manifest in metahumans so for the most part, he assumed Sehun didn’t have any powers. Nonetheless, he was proud his son had any, he was happy the legacy of the Oh family being metahumans would continue on.

“You know what this means now don’t you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re gonna be transferred to a school for metahumans now.”

Surprisingly, Sehun wasn’t all that upset. Sure, he would miss his normal school and his normal classes and his normal friends, but he was excited at starting a new life. A superpowered one.

Settling into The Academy (very creative name, he thought) was a lot more easier than he thought he would be. After a quick tour of the main building and also the dorm he would be staying in, he decided that he liked this place.

He liked his roommate too, a shy boy with a laugh that could probably cure cancer, Kim Jongin. The first day they met, Jongin introduced himself with the basics: name, age and also superpower, which would soon become the norm for Sehun.

“So, you can see the future? That’s so cool!”

“I think absorbing and copying anyone’s and everyone’s power is a lot cooler than mine, but thanks.”

Within a week, Sehun was introduced to Jongin’s friend group consisting of Kyungsoo, an intimidating but very nice metahuman who could sense and control magnetism, and Chanyeol, a big friendly giant pyrokinetic. Sehun liked them too.

This place wasn’t so bad after all. Albeit, a bit mundane. For a school of metahumans you would’ve expected a lot more action in this place, but it just felt like his old school, but now he was older and just had more resources to train his power. It was then, when Sehun decided he liked seeing into the future, but, he liked the unknown a lot more. He told his roommate this, and was met with a look that said, “what the fuck?” but he explained that, knowing everything that will happen gets boring after a while. He wants to be surprised, kept on his toes, a lot of people fear the unknown but Sehun embraced it.

His first surprise was you.

Jongin had dragged him to some random party happening in some random dorm and Sehun didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t in the mood for a party. The pair quickly found Kyungsoo and Chanyeol tucked away in a corner casually sitting down on some sofa and drinking.

“You’re here!”

“I mean, of course we are you invited us, and by invited, I mean threatened.” Was Kyungsoo’s stupidly funny but accurate reply to Jongin’s exclamation.

Jongin, who seemingly ignored Kyungsoo’s reply, immediately set off toward the makeshift dancefloor in the living room. Sehun didn’t really take Jongin for the party type either but he supposed Jongin just wanted an excuse to dance. Sehun liked dancing too, and that was probably how the two of them became good friends so quickly, but he wasn’t about to join Jongin, not when he was still trying to get used to the noisy environment he found himself in. Deciding he needed fresh air, he quietly slipped out the window and onto the fire escape outside and took a few moments to collect himself.

“Hey.”

A soft voice shocked him out of his thoughts and he realised he wasn’t alone on the tiny fire escape.

“Hey,” he replied while he calmed his heart. He wondered what you were doing out here, the same as him perhaps?

“Couldn’t wait to get out of there huh?”

“I guess you could say that. I’m Sehun.”

“(Y/N).” You stick your hand out for a handshake and he takes it. You like the way his hand fits into yours, but you don’t dwell on the thought. The two of you sit on the fire escape. Admiring the night sky, relishing in the slight breeze. It didn’t take long before you broke the (comfortable) silence between the both of you.

“I guess I have to ask.. What’s your power?”

“Precognition.”

“Cool,” you started. “So, can you only tell your future?”

He shrugged. “I guess so, but I suppose I could train myself into seeing other people’s futures. That’d be cool wouldn’t it? What’s yours then?”

“Probability manipulation,” you said. You saw how his eyes widened and you had to stop yourself from giggling, though you couldn’t stop the small smile that played on your lips and Sehun thought he quite liked seeing you smile and a small part of him would like to see more of it.

“Wow,” he breathed. “So, you can just make yourself lucky? And other people unlucky? And you can make unlikely events happen? Is that how your powers work?” Sehun couldn’t help the amount of questions that spilled out of his mouth but if he was being honest, your power fascinated him. He would’ve loved a power like that, it seemed fun. Not saying that he didn’t enjoy his own one, but probability manipulation seemed very intriguing to him.

“I guess you could say that,” you echoed his words from earlier, and Sehun grinned.

Sehun briefly checked the time on his phone before deciding to return back to his friends, and more importantly making sure his roommate was safe. He turned to you and smiled.

“I enjoyed talking to you.”

It was your turn to smile this time. “Me too.”

“See you around.”

And with that, he left. A part of you thought you should’ve done something to make him stay longer, to get to know him better. Or maybe he looked into the future and he didn’t like talking to you and decided he should get rid of himself from the situation. You shook your head. Whatever it was, you hoped you would see him again. Though, you could use your power to make it happen, a small childish part of you wanted to leave it up to fate.

It was about a week before you saw him again. It has been a long seven days with him occupying your thoughts at all times. You chided yourself, it was stupid really, you’ve talked to the guy for like a good half hour and here you were unable to rid your mind of him. You’re just glad your roommate isn’t a telepath otherwise you’d never hear the end of it. Sighing for the nth time that day, you decided to take a walk around the school.

Heading out towards the front lawn of the school where everyone likes to hang out at on sunny days like these, you quietly hoped you would see Sehun again. Again, you were entirely aware of the fact that you could make your powers make it happen for you, but you wanted it to happen genuinely.

And perhaps the universe had heard your prayers, because while your head was in the clouds, your body had collided into someone’s back.

“Watch where you’re-“

That voice.

“(Y/N)?” You really liked the way your name sounded with his voice.

“Sehun?” The aforementioned man’s mouth broke out into a grin when he fully processed that it was you who bumped into him.

“Fancy seeing you again,” you said.

“You sure you didn’t use your powers just so you could see me again?” He teased. You laughed and smacked his shoulder, though you were thinking of it earlier on. The two of you walked towards a tree and sat underneath it, a welcome shade from the sun and wonderful place to relax and finally get to know the man you’ve been dying to see for the past week. And the rest was history.

From that day on, the two of you became inseparable. Jongin even joked about you replacing him as his best friend but you laughed and said there was always space for him in Sehun’s heart even though you wanted to be the only one in his heart. Though, you weren’t sure if it was going to happen any time soon. This Fate thing really needed to hurry up and make it happen, because you really really liked him, and you hoped that he did too.

And he did, but he was confused. He sees the way Jongin looks at you, and the way you look at him and it upsets him. He knows the two of you had been spending a lot of time together. It left him feeling… jealous? Which led to him feeling confused. You’re not together and he sure as hell has no reason for feeling this way. He’s confused with all the things left unsaid between the both of you and the hidden meanings behind every word, every gesture the two of you make. Sometimes he fools himself into thinking, you see him the way he sees you, but he eliminates every single thought of that. There’s no way. You deserved far better than just Sehun. You deserved Jongin, and he deserved you. His two favourite people together.

And so, days, weeks, months, passed with neither of you doing anything about your feelings. But, the two of you did become even better friends, almost like you were two peas in a pod. Wherever you went, Sehun was there and wherever Sehun went, you were there. That’s just how the world works now. Though, you weren’t sure how long you could keep your feelings at bay. You were tired of being unsure of how he felt for you. You could very well end your suffering whenever you liked by just asking him, but for some reason, you can’t. You’re not blind. You see the way he looks at your roommate whenever she hangs out with you and the rest of the guys. And your roommate is pretty cute. Sometimes, he confuses you. Just like every single boy you’ve encountered in your life.

Sehun’s second surprise was Jongin.

“What?”

“I said, I know you like (Y/N). Honestly, you’ve been living with me for how long now and you still think I can’t see right through you. I’m offended at the lack of faith you have in me Sehun.”

“You’re not mad?”

Jongin gave him a look. “What am I supposed to be mad for?”

“I thought you liked her too,” Sehun said, though he felt stupid the moment the words came out from his mouth. They’re not in high school anymore, why was he acting like this?

“You have got to be the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. No, I don’t. I’m far more interested in her cute roommate though.”

That probably explained why Jongin and you had been spending a lot of time. He probably just used her as a buffer for Jongin and your roommate to hang out. And that also explained why your roommate always asked him about Jongin every time she bumped into him. To say Sehun felt like an idiot was an understatement. And he didn’t feel any better when he saw the smirk Jongin was giving him, though he supposed he did deserve it.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Jongin confidently says as he walks out the door.

Sehun gave his front door a long, hard stare before deciding that he wanted to see you. Grabbing his phone, he left and immediately his feet took him in the direction of your building. He passed by Jongin and your roommate on the corridor leading to your room and Jongin sent him a wink.

“She’s waiting for you,” he says.

Sehun doubted that, but walked towards your door anyway. And he stood there. He was standing outside your room, thinking of his plan of action. If he wanted you, this had to be absolutely perfect. He decided, to look into the future.

His vision showed him, walking into your room, you laying on your bed and your face showing absolute delight in seeing Sehun. His vision showed him confessing to you, and Sehun thought he was ready for what happened next, he wasn’t. He saw your grin slowly fade off from your face and he heard you say: “Sehun, I’m sorry.”

And he decided he had seen enough. And so he left. It was a shame though, if he had decided to delve deeper into the future he would’ve seen the whole story. He would’ve seen the two of you talking your doubts out like normal adults, he would’ve seen the two of you eventually realising you liked each other, and he would’ve seen you finally being in his arms.

But he didn’t.

Jongin came home to a very dejected Sehun. He could tell what had happened earlier in the day.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Sehun decided that the best course of action was to avoid you. Brilliant, obviously, so he could have the time and space he needed to get over his feelings for you. It was so brilliant, he didn’t realise he was hurting you too.

You were left even more confused than before. You thought you meant something to him, being his best friend and all. But here he was, avoiding you. It hurt. And the worst part was, you had no idea what you had done. You were hurt, but most importantly, you were tired and by God, you were going to tell this boy you liked him whether he wanted to hear it or not.

Maybe, you should’ve come up with a plan before barging over to his dorm, because now here you were standing outside his door like an idiot.

Steeling yourself, you knew that this was something you had to do, you’ve had enough of this stupid boy and his stupid actions and you were gonna tell him you had feelings for him dammit.

Before you could regret your decision, you knocked thrice on his door and you immediately regretted your decision anyway. Before you could turn and walk away from this situation, the door swung open and there he was. You wanted to be mad at him, but how could you? You liked him far too much for you to be mad at him, even if he was being as ass and pushing you away the past few days.

“We need to talk,” you started. Okay, maybe you should’ve come up with a better starter because that’s the number one sentence that induces panic in people.

“Sure,” he said after much hesitation and moved so you could enter his room.

,“I’m sorry,” was the first thing you said when you entered, awkwardly standing in his doorway with his back facing you as he walked further in, but upon hearing your words, he whirled around.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, for whatever I did to make you avoid me for like an entire week! So, whatever it is, I’m sorry,” you said. You could feel him staring at you. His eyes piercing, like he could stare through your soul or something. You swallowed hard.

“I think I’m the one who should be sorry,” he said. “It was.. a dick move to avoid you like that, especially when you haven’t done anything to me, and especially because I did it to get over you.”

“Get over me?”

Shock was written on his face, clearly he hadn’t meant to say that, but the words had already come out of his mouth, he needed to deal with it.

“I had, or I guess I still have feelings for you and I know you didn’t feel the same way so I guess I decided to stay away from you..?” His explanation came out more as a question than as an actual statement, but he supposed he was just nervous of your reaction.

Incredulous, you asked, “and how do you know I don’t feel the same way?”

Sehun swallowed. He knew he was gonna sound like a total clown explaining why, but he’s already gotten himself knee-deep into this mess, he’s going to have to see himself through it.

“I saw the future.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He’s an idiot. But he’s your idiot. And one good thing to come out from this messy discussion was that he had feelings for you, and that was enough to lift your spirits from the Sehun-less week you had prior to this.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Sehun smiled sheepishly. “Why don’t you come confess and see what my real answer would’ve been?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Confess, and I’ll tell you what my answer is.”

Sehun was nervous, to say the least. He wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t like he hasn’t confessed before. There was just something about you that made him nervous. He didn’t want to lose you, he wanted you with him, for a very, very long time. It kind of scared him, how much he needed you, depended on you. He never thought he would end up being that kind of guy, becoming so attached to someone, like how someone needed air, he needed you. He didn’t know how long he had felt like this, but after a week without you, it felt like a part of him had been ripped away, and as dramatic as that may be, he realised one thing: it was a mistake to push you away.

Swallowing, he began, “(Y/N), I like you. A lot. Like really a lot. Like so much, that I can’t even begin to explain it. It scares me, how much I like you, but I really do, and it was wrong of me to assume you didn’t feel the same because of some vision I had of the future. I-I hope you feel the same way, but it’s okay if you don’t, we can just be friends, that’s okay with me too. I just need you in my life someway somehow.”

He’d never admit it, getting that out of his system felt good.

“I like you too.”

Sehun thinks he’s hearing things, and you repeat yourself because he was looking at you with his brows furrowed, like you were saying it just to trick him, even though that was far from the truth. You liked him, truly, and you finally told him. You repeated yourself over, and over again until his frown melted into a smile that made his eyes turn into crescent moons and you could practically see the happiness radiate off him.

You nearly had the wind knocked out of you as he sudden rushed towards you and lifted you into his arms and spun you around. He slowly lowered you back down and peppered your face in kisses. If you’d known he would be this affectionate, you would’ve told him a lot sooner. You giggled at this.

He cupped your face in his hands and looked into your eyes, and you couldn’t help but think that this whole situation felt a bit too romantic drama-y for you, but it’s Sehun so you didn’t care.

“You like me.”

“Mhm.”

“And I like you.”

“Yep.”

He smiled again before moving closer to give you a sweet kiss, one of many, you hoped.

The moment was interrupted when the door swung open to reveal a rather smug looking Jongin with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo behind him.

“I told you so,” said Jongin. “C’mon lovebirds, let’s grab some food, I’ve been waiting for the two of you to make up so we can all hang out together so let’s go!”

The three of them left, and you made a move to leave, but not before Sehun took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your forehead.

The two of you were disgustingly sweet, but the two of you were also bickering and play-fighting and trying to out-sass the other person. It felt like you two were best friends who kissed and slept together occasionally. Maybe that’s just how it was meant to be.

Like the sun rising in the East and setting in the West, the way the Earth revolves around the sun, the way Jongin never fails to absorb Sehun’s precognition powers just to get a glimpse of his own future; you and him were just meant to be, simply put.

In all of the worlds, now and forever, in all of the lives that you are, in every version of your lifetime, you love him, you will love him, and he loves you, and he will love you. And one will never be without the other.

#part 2 of me being scared to upload this #fun fact: half of this was written while listening to telegraph ave #exo #exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo x reader #sehun #exo sehun #sehun imagines #sehun scenarios #sehun x reader #oh sehun #4k words of nonsense....

127 notes · View notes

underthewestway · 6 years ago

Text

SU Theory

Similarities in White Diamond and Marty

I’m aware that fans of Steven Universe have made the comparison before between White and Marty’s strikingly similar nickname for Pink and Greg individually, White calls Pink ‘Starlight’ and Marty dons Greg ‘Starchild’. Knowing this show, I do not at all think this was accidental.

After going through old episodes, which I will source at end, I have found several other comparisons in their speech and behaviour, which might not suggest that they are more or less the same character, but their actions both symbolise abusive parental figures in both Pink and Greg’s lives.

Disclaimer: I have very little understanding of real life abusive from any parental guardian or loved one, so if I make any wrong assumptions or descriptions then please feel free to correct me in the notes. Also, this brings up the subject of abuse and manipulation, as well as domestic abuse specifically, so if that is a heavy subject for you I would suggest you stop reading here.

Okay our first comparison to go over is the attitude towards ego. Both White and Marty show signs of narcissism in its highest form-seeing everyone else as beneath them, and that they should all be ‘blessed’ to be in their presence.

White:“Now they are me!”

Marty:“I guess the music biz hasn’t been as good to you as it has to me!”

They seem to enjoy making it clear to anyone that they are far better in comparison, by well... always comparing!

White: “You’ll only make things worse...I make them better”

Marty: “This isn’t your show...you’re lucky I’m even letting you on the ground floor”

These are clear examples that through belittling their ‘loved ones’ they maximise their ego. They think only their way is right because they are convinced they are gods...and won’t even listen to any other voice, which as a result isolates them.

White: ''You can hide from yourself, but you can't hide from me Pink''

Marty: ''Nothing less for my talented, soon to be famous, DJ''

Ultimately, I do believe that both want the best for their 'children', yet this is only to satisfy their own gain. They are not given any freedom to decide who they want to be, they can only fit into the forced mould and nothing else. Their solutions to happiness are to have more and more gifts and riches...feelings never come into the picture.

Marty: “No-one cares about your feelings, Greg!”

White: “As for me, I’m certain I don’t need you”

Furthermore, we get a strong impression from both figures that they have tried and succeeded at convincing Greg/Pink that they hold all the knowledge and information about the ‘outside world’ and that they are always right too. Which obviously isn’t true to us, but as Marty/White have been the most dominant and controlling parental figure in Greg/Pinks lives...they obediently listen to what they tell them is right and wrong.

Until they experience life outside their controlling eyes and find out for themselves that their ‘guardian’ was wrong.

Both: “WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

Once someone speaks out against them, they both react with disgust, anger and disbelief. Since Marty had moved on to making Sour Cream his new puppet, the moment his son speaks out against him he breaks the friendly facade and is full on aggressive and straightforward with his real intentions. White also does this with Steven...or Pink Steven?

When they don’t get what they want, they quickly become hostile and demanding- Marty wanting attention, Ad money and to finally, but begrudgingly, give Greg his own money (which was the reason he came in the first place) and White wanting to see/control Pink and restore the hierarchy to its rebellion-free self.

So what's their weakness?

In conclusion, Change. Change in people. Change in environment. Their power is meaningless in regards to how much the people around them grow. This is because they don't. Both White and Marty are reminiscences of the past, and when we visit them again in the present, neither of them have hardly changed, in fact they have gotten worse. WD isolates herself in her head ship, and Sour Cream's dad has carelessly spent money on flashy clothes, and a van, trying everything to impress.

Due to the fact that both Greg/Pink aren't susceptible to their powers of manipulation anymore, they try to replicate the past onto Sour Cream and Steven-which fails because this is no longer the past

In the end, everyone outgrew them. Therefore, this is where WD and Marty begin to differentiate from one another. At the end of Drop Beat Dad, Marty is defeated, and sulkily drives off, away from Beach City, and most likely won’t be seen again.

However, White comes to realise her flaws, and begins to notice her logic doesn’t completely line up, with the proof of Pink being gone and Steven existing.

There is still a lot of fixing to do, but there is a glimmer of change in her. Marty is still unknown...We can only hope, with the shows messages and themes, that their actions aren’t forgiven or forgotten...but they becoming accepting to change, and focus their adamant perfectionism and desire for glory into good.

Episode Sources:

Story for Steven

Drop Beat Dad

Legs from Here to Homeworld

Change Your Mind

Thankyou for reading and please let me know your thoughts below.

#steven universe #theories #white diamond #pink diamond #sour cream #rose quartz #greg universe #change your mind #story for steven #drop beat dad #abuse #manipulation #domestic abuse #heavy themes

26 notes · View notes

madstars-festival · 5 years ago

Text

5 MINUTES WITH… KIM PICK, AD STARS 2019 FINAL JUDGE

Kim Pick has blazed a trail for women in advertising that starts in New Zealand and runs right through Singapore, London, Australia and New York. She caught up with reporter Lee Patten to discuss everything from talent development, industry diversity, and her upcoming gig at AD STARS 2019, where she is a final judge. This interview originally appeared in Little Black Book.

After being appointed as a Creative Director at just 26 years of age, Kim worked at RAPP, McCann, and Saatchi & Saatchi, returning to New Zealand in 2014 to join Colenso BBDO with creative partner Wayne Pick. In March 2018, it was time for a new challenge, so Kim took up the Executive Creative Director position at VMLY&R, New Zealand.

You’re coming to Busan, South Korea as a final judge this year. Have you visited Korea before, and what are you looking forward to most?

Korea’s great – I’ve visited before on business but only spent time in and around Seoul. I’m looking forward to experiencing Busan, meeting the other judges, and talking about great work. I’m also keen to work with the young creatives who are throwing themselves into the Young Stars Competition.

Where did you grow up and how did your childhood years influence the creative you are today?

I spent a significant part of my childhood on Kawau Island, off the coast of New Zealand. We lived a self-sufficient lifestyle without roads, phones, television or electricity, and I attended school by correspondence. I had to communicate everything by writing. I loved writing then, and still do today. The island probably gave me an ‘alternative’ viewpoint on a lot of things, and those values stay with me and show up in the work I like to do: there are common themes of sustainability, the environment, and social change.

Who are your creative heroes and why?

David Droga was my mentor at AWARD School in Sydney, and hired me at Saatchi & Saatchi London. His mantra of “Don’t show me the ad, show me the press release” really helped differentiate between what was just an ad and what was a big social idea, and was ahead of its time.

Kate Stanners, Global CCO of Saatchis, and Debbi Vandeven, Global CCO of VMLY&R, are both global creative leaders who are great role models in terms of the values they bring and their leadership style. Otherwise, my creative heroes are all the creatives I’ve been lucky enough to sit alongside, who constantly go over the odds to make a difference with their passion projects.

How do you move people with advertising? Are all emotions fair game?

I’m comfortable drawing on personal experiences and emotions to get to the heart of a subject. I do want people to feel something – but it shouldn’t be about manipulating emotions – just telling a truth, or an idea, in a meaningful way that resonates. And sometimes being meaningful is simply understanding that people need a bit of fantasy, escapism or a laugh.

You started out as a journalist and moved into copywriting. Do you use any of your journalism skills when you create campaigns?

Journalists learn that ‘there’s a front page story in everyone.’ To me, that means that there’s no person who is uninteresting, and there’s no subject that isn’t fascinating – you just need to ask the right questions and find the front page angle. So I’m genuinely interested in any project that comes my way, and can’t help but explore it like an investigative journalist.

Many people will remember the ‘Love the skin you’re in’ campaign from your Saatchi London days. What are the most memorable campaigns you’ve worked on?

‘Love the skin you’re in’ launched at a time when airbrushed perfection was the norm in beauty advertising and girls as young as 13 were being cast as talent for their ‘aspirational’ skin quality. Isabella Rossellini had just been retired as the face of a beauty brand because she was ‘too old.’ We took a stance on that and launched Total Effects for Olay with an actress in her 40s, Glynis Barber. It became a UK and global number one bestseller, and made Olay a billion dollar brand.

Another memorable moment was getting millions of dollars in shredded cash from the Reserve Bank to demonstrate how much New Zealanders were wasting in mortgage interest.

And it felt good launching Sunbites’ new sustainable platform with a campaign created using solar energy.

What does your typical day look like?

I get to be creative every day, thankfully – that’s the beauty of being in a small market like New Zealand and having partners who want to co-create with you. I commute between our two VMLY&R offices in Auckland and Wellington, and work closely with our client partners in business and government, and also with the communities we are engaging.

You were a Creative Director at McCann in Singapore when you were just 26. Did you feel a lot of pressure and if so, how did it affect you?

The CD title then was equivalent to ECD now – and there weren’t many women in that role. But I didn’t feel pressure around that. It was only when I became a mother that I realised how tough it was to balance both roles without a lot of support. I have since been an advocate for flexible working and initiatives to support senior women in the workplace.

Your husband, Wayne Pick, has also been your creative partner at many agencies throughout your career, most recently at Colenso. How do you make that partnership work when you’re married – is there a home watershed enforced?

The home watershed moment is the hardest to enforce when you’re working together – work inevitably does tend to spill into home time. Working independently from him means the dinner conversation avoids work – which our daughter especially is enjoying.

As someone who serves on the Diversity and Inclusion Council for the NZ Communications Council, how do you hope to see diversity increase within the industry in future years?

It feels like there is a growing commitment to see more diversity in the industry, but there is still a long way to go. As part of the Diversity and Inclusion Council, a current focus is to see more Māori and Pacific representation in the New Zealand industry – they are the most under-represented groups by far. We are working to help create more pathways into the industry.

What advice would you give young people thinking about getting into the industry?

In addition to students from a Communications background, we also need more creative thinkers from the STEM subjects who can bring their data, analytics and tech thinking to play.

My advice would be: don’t try to fit into existing moulds, bring the skills, passion and personality you have to the industry. We need your fresh thinking, your diversity.

• Kim Pick will attend AD STARS 2019 as a Final Judge. The festival runs from August 22nd to 24th 2019 in Busan, South Korea. www.adstars.org. To read her interview with Little Black Book, click here

#adstars

1 note · View note

kierongillen · 7 years ago

Text

Writer Notes: The Wicked + the Divine 35

Spoilers, obv.

I suspect this may be shorter than usual. Or maybe not? When you've been working (and thinking) on something for a long time, you work past the need to talk about it. I've said it to myself so many times, I don't really need to externalise it. Whatever “it” is, is in the book.

I suspect this is going to grow as we progress across the final year. In a real way, we're at the point of the degree course when we're easing off. It's your project now. Make of it what thou wilt. Easy answers are a long way behind us. But there are answers, at least.

Jamie's Cover: with solicits going out earlier, we're always worried about putting something like this on a cover. Ideally, we'd want it to drop after Imperial Phase II dropped, so at least people would be suspicious of Minerva.

But it's a lovely image – I love what Matt's doing with the light, what Jamie's doing with the expression. Great stuff.

Yoshi Yoshitani: More great stuff. The playfulness of Persephone, the pose. It's just total joy.

Page 1-4

This looks familiar. Once more we return, again, right?

We were obviously planning this from the start, but by the time we've reached this point, Jamie's style has evolved to the point where the extra panels we need to add to the sequence would break the coherence entirely. So Jamie insisted on re-inking the whole sequence, and updating the Minerva panels (as she's seen in more panels later). I did say that if we were clever, we'd have drawn the whole thing back when we did issue 1. Jamie noted that he'd never have been happy printing four years old art in a book.

So yes.

I was originally thinking that this sequence would actually be the opening of Year 4, but when I did the tight plotting for this arc, I realised that you had to really start way back around 4000BC, to set certain themes in motion. I had the option to switch them until quite late though – they're similar lengths, and abstractly can be switched, with a few changes.

I didn't. It's the way to go. And it's a good way to make issue 2 hit hard, right?

It's an interesting thing to think about that those who are following this in singles will have read the 1923 special before this, so know exactly why everyone is here, while those following with trades will learn it in the NEXT trade.

Page 5

For those who follow the idea of page budgets, this counted as a half page.

When writing this first time I got the order the wrong way around, so Amaterasu survived rather than Susanoo. Always check this stuff.

It's another tour de force for Matt here, in terms of the intensity of effects going on. I feel terrible for all the people involved. Thinking through the psychology of this was always going to be the hard one. To pull the trigger, who had the hardest job?

Page 6

Yet again, just look at the reds. I've got an issue with a bunch of fire in, and this is really making me look forward to it. Susanoo is a sweet one. Poor fucker.

Minerva saying “Necessity” feels like a necessary beat, right?

Page 7

This counts as a ¾ page for page budget.

Was waiting for the “Minerva emerging from fire” money shot for 34 issues (plus specials) and Jamie doesn't let me down. Had me thinking of “Figure covered in fluids” being one of those recurring beats in Jamie and my work. Persephone in the fourth trade, America in issue 13 of YA, Emily in Phonogram and so on.

It's the billow of the skirt, innit? Nice, Jamie.

8-9-10-11

Oddly, lettering this so you could work out who was speaking and who to was trickier than you'd think.

Set still getting her digs in now is very set. And, yes, I'm sure people will have a theory on who the fourth head is by now. If not, don't worry, we'll get to it soon enough.

Getting a little quality time with Ananke/Minerva was one of the writing challenges here – this is a scene which is pretty much showing methodology. When the pages came in for this, Chrissy said “I've been trying to make sense of what you meant by this for four years, but now I get it.” So I hope it hits the core beats for most people.

I do love this push and pull between Ananke and Minerva though. It's quietly horrible.

Pop-art head death there, and a return of the flying eyeballs. Also, looking at the various expressions of the heads in the backgrounds on page 9 is pretty impressive. Set in the third panel!

10-11 is the ritual. Trying to work out how much space for this and what you actually needed to show was key. Plus the timing of it – there's an argument you could have taken this longer, or pushed it shorter. Two pages felt right.

Good eye-to-camera at the end, which allows us to...

PAGE 12

...Have an interstitial...

PAGE 13-14-15-16-17

...and segue to Minerva's eyes in the present day. Linking sequence between scenes.

Due to the repeated pages in the first half being “free” (They weren't – Jamie chose to kill himself) this means that the issue is considerably longer than usual. Even so, there are a lot of fish to fry. This is obviously the problem of the structure of this arc – yes, there will be past and present content in every issue. Balancing what we do in each is basically the key... but it also means we have to choose our scenes very carefully.

Anyway – Minerva and Woden, facing off. Just letting two characters push and pull against each other – and, for the first time, really being behind the curtain “with” Minerva. Previously Minerva has been presented as a supporting character, based on her interactions with others (1923 is an exception). Here, Minerva is protagonist, and we get to see her work.

Minerva! Love the dyed bangs. Strong look. Also, great thoughtful expression on the end of the last page... and her making her move on the next page.

Woden calling her “Sweetheart” seems to be a minor peak Woden move.

This sequence is making me think that Minerva would be great at playing the party game Resistance. Tricky thing in this sequence is actually signalling lies to readers. Lies are really hard in comics. Like irony (as in, characters saying things they don't believe) there's certain parts of the readership who have huge problems with it. Signalling what you want to do is paramount, and tricky. I'm not sure there's a right answer.

Last two panels of 15 are particularly good for Jamie and Matt – firstly, we get the time based upon the sun coming up, which gives it an odd atmosphere. Guns out in a room? You'd think nighttime. But no, it's something else.

Secondly, with the steady angle, with Minerva having her back to Woden, we get a chance to see her think about what lie to tell. That's an “Okay – Woden knows about the heads. How could he know about the heads?” think...

Then over the page, making the lie, expression hoping she gets away with it... and then relief when she's called it right. Great steady-angle work by Jamie and Matt, and the sort of performance you can get from them. I wouldn't write this for almost anyone else.

(Favourite detail – look at the shoulders. From Woden's perspective, she's not moving at all. She's only giving facial tells.)

This sequence was also particularly picked over with C, in a line by line way, in terms of what information is being imparted. Minerva and Woden are both absolutely drilling each other for all the information they can get, so what IS being implied.

I laugh at Minerva bundling over to the computer the second Woden is gone. Plus great final expression there by Minerva.

18-19

In an issue that's set half in the past, and the half the present day stuff is with Minerva, we're in danger of losing our lead – so I definitely try and write Persephone particularly present where she gets it. This is an advantage of the captions coming back in – we can slow sequences down and make them feel like they last longer.

It's fun to do Persephone captions. Well, “fun”. You get to hit certain things directly that normally I'd only ever approach obliquely.

The weirdest thing of rewriting was Jon's line about being trapped underground – which was originally “Buried alive.” The question was whether anyone would take that literally, as the lab hadn't 100% been established as being underground. (and the stairs from the giant machine that lead to the lab go upwards, even though the whole thing is all underground.)

In short: in a plot as dense as ours, it's important to not confuse in any area except where you have to.

20-22

After a scene earlier of lying to someone's face, using the modern communication to do something exploring the same sort of thing seemed interesting. Also, efficient. For those following Page Budgets, the repeating panels of the phone aren't quite “free” panels, but they're relatively low energy panels. Plus it gets a LOT of information exchanged in a direct, quick way. Instead, we spend the effort on the expression panels, to show the journey that's NOT on the screen.

It's not stuff I'd do constantly, but I do like that we do it.

Nice Verðandi-shoulder-touch silent panel too. Yay Jamie and Matt!

I believe I originally wrote this for two pages, but with no captions. Jamie felt it was unnecessary, and they'd get a similar effect in a single page. The reason why I did it with two pages is that I wanted to slow the reader down in the process of discovery – there was a little bit more akin to the Rorschach scene in Watchmen, with the procedural exploration of the environment and trying to find a way in too.

In the script I said I may add captions at lettering, but reduced to a page, that felt like a necessary thing. It slows the eye, and lets us join Persephone in her internality.

(I actually wrote most of this as the opening of the next issue, before realising it didn't fit, which was nicely timed, as I realised that with some edits, it fits perfectly here.)

The mural introduced in issue 4, as coloured by Nathan Fairbairn.

Laura's glimpse back on panel 4 is one of my favourite minor moments – Matt's magenta behind the image really adds to it.

24-26

Minerva, in an issue of deniable manipulative shit, this is your most deniable and manipulative thing. Astounded, and I wrote it.

Last two panels call back to Imperial Phase I, for reasons which will become obvious.

Due to the way the pages moved around, Jamie suggested moving the reveal of the skulls to the previous page – they were originally on the final one, but the angle was nearly impossible to pull off, and worked better brought forward. You always want BIG information to be revealed on a page turn, but in this case, the panels are small enough to not register unless you're actively looking at them, plus the REAL meaning of them is only really get-able by those who recall a scene from issue 4.

Hence the flashbacks, to ensure people do recall them. We don't do a lot of this kind of thing, but as this has been a long time back, we felt it was worth really laying out the key facts, step by step. Also, free panels, for the page budget purposes.

(Of course, not for Matt, who is doing a really cool treatment here – the reds and blacks in one timeline, and the pink and blue dots in the flashbacks. Astounding. Give that man another Eisner.)

The “...but everyone else should be” has been sitting in my hard drive all that time too. Odd to hit this stuff as well.

I think I've said that Baal is one of my favourite characters in the whole series. Obviously much more to come here, and probably down the line. He was a character who was always going to become more central the further we got into this – you know I talk about knowing the characters arcs, but not always when the plots come to the top of the mix? There's certainly a take on WicDiv where this is revealed near the climax of Imperial Phase II along with the rest of it. I suspect that would have overloaded it – it needs space, and I'd hate to leave more than a month between this reveal and the What's-Going-On.

It always surprised me that more close readers didn't jump on a “Baal is Baal Hammon” argument, as there's stuff which I considered considerably more obscure that people were all over. He cries fire in issue 12, for example – though a lot of people were noting that 1920s Baal wasn't much like 2013 Baal after the Special. This stuff is fascinating, from my perspective.

Yes, Baal's hot stuff in the final panel. For those who are wondering about his Inanna tattoo, alternate covers aren’t strictly speaking canon, and gods have all kind of miracles available to them.

Next issue is two weeks late. As well as being one of the hardest issues we've ever done, there's been several real life disasters. Sorry for the delay, but we'll see you next week.

#WicDiv #the wicked and the divine #writer notes

141 notes · View notes

not-poignant · 7 years ago

Note

hiya!! apologies if you've been asked this before but do you think you'd be Seelie or Unseelie? I was also wondering how you make each of the characters (I'm thinking particularly Ash, Augus, gulvi and the Nain Rouge) speech patterns so wonderfully distinct? like do you make notes of common words? I always struggle with this in my stories. also, after I've been reading TCOFT or GT I find myself thinking "La!" and "darling!" like Gulvi lol. anyway thanks, all the love :)))

I’m gonna respond to this publically because of the dialogue thing! :D

I think I’d be...oh god, I don’t know. Maybe Seelie? Maybe Unseelie? That’s not very helpful is it. Can I just be a trow?

I was also wondering how you make each of the characters (I'm thinking particularly Ash, Augus, gulvi and the Nain Rouge) speech patterns so wonderfully distinct? like do you make notes of common words?

Okay, so I thought I’d written about this in the past, but I’ve only written about dialogue distinction in terms of fanfiction.

Here is my theory on dialogue and my technique of using cheat sheets.

And here is what my cheat sheets look like.

Now obviously with original fiction, you don’t have the benefit of watching a whole bunch of stuff and writing down observations and dialogue quirks, you have to come up with them.

So, constructing dialogue. There are some key things when constructing characters from scratch - or I guess questions you can ask yourself - to help begin to narrow things down:

- Where are they from? Do they have an accent? - Have they travelled? - Are they an X-ophile? Gulvi is a Francophile, her affectations aren’t because she’s French, but because she stayed with a French family and picked up some things that other French people might be like ‘really??? e.e’ Japanophiles and Anglophiles etc. can be the same.- Are they a formal or informal character? (other questions lead into this: what is their class? Do they like to give certain first impressions? Do they not give a shit what other people think of them? What is their age? What is their environment?) - Try and think of how they might sound in a doctor’s appointment when they’re worried, vs. how they sound with friends, vs. how they sound in a job interview. Is it the same? Would it change?

Okay so from there you get general ballparks:

Gwyn: Formal education, high Court family, Welsh background. Lost his accent due to it falling out of favour. Formal speaking, but time in the military has made him less formal than someone like Augus. Can be unexpectedly coarse (see: time in the military).

Augus: Welsh background leads to a more musical and soft-spoken, lilting accent. Late formal education, and a Courtier’s education in the Raven Prince’s Court. He is used to using sarcasm and wit, and false politeness, along with things like ‘darling.’

Gulvi: Latvian, a punk, sitting in a sort of very informal ‘formal’ accent where she can get along with Courtiers (hence also the ‘darling’) but where she will also swear a lot. Can and does speak in multiple languages. Will swear to make an impact.

Ash: Spends time in human world. Informal. Blasphemer (areligious) and swears a great deal, due to mostly hanging out with the lowest classes around the world. Loves Australia and the US, therefore has a US-Australian accent, has lost all Welsh.

Okay, but that still doesn’t really give you specific quirks? That’s when you get to narrow down. Some of that you’ll learn as you go. There have always been small but consistent habits across the characters.

Gwyn says ‘okay’ but Augus says ‘all right.’ Augus says ‘careful’ and ‘easy’ and uses endearments, but Gwyn is more likely to say ‘it’s okay’ or borrow endearments from others if he uses them at all. Gwyn is more likely to speak in short sentences, and doesn’t care for fancy language unless it’s in very specific circumstances. He is a ‘straight’ talker, he likes to get to the point. Augus can be more circuitous.

Augus also does this a lot: ‘Look at you’ ‘look at that’ ‘oh that’s very nice’ etc. He observes. That’s most noticeable during a scene, but he does it a lot.

Gulvi has her obvious quirks, but there are less obvious ones too. She generally doesn’t like to let conversations go by without insulting someone at least once, lol.

OKAY SO what to do with that? Get your character file open (do you have a character file? It might help!) and put in a section that says:

Dialogue: (or in my case, it says Speech Patterns:)

And start compiling your notes. First the general answers to the above questions, and then you can narrow things down a bit more. Gulvi’s looks like this:

Gulvi Speech Patterns

Gulvi has speech affectations that turn her formalCourt-speak (which she learned during the Raven Prince’s Court) into somethingdecorated with the occasional French exclamation. She picked this up out ofhero-worship / respect for the matriarch / lady of the house that she wasprotecting. She is actually an accomplished multi-linguist.

Her voice is rich and fulsome. She will sometimes ‘purr’ herspeech in the back of her throat, usually while smiling or smirking. Her speechpatterns can be quite ‘Crielle’ like.

(Here is where I put specific things when I just need to make the characters sound more themselves at a glance - you will not know all of these before you start writing, some of them you will learn as you go).

DarlingsNo?Yes?Dear meOui!Quoi!La!LovelyWell!Ah, no!You mustIt is so

Fenwrel’s notes on the other hand are short, but distinct:

“Her voice is well-modulated, though she can haveconfrontational manners of speaking quite quickly. She has a tendency to repeat questions. I.e. ‘Why?’ ‘Why?Because I said so.’ Or, ‘How?’ ‘How? We’re going to do it this way.’”

The Raven Prince’s are a lot more specific, because he is his voice, in a lot of ways:

The Raven Prince’s voice – despite possessing fantasticdiction – betrays his raven form. He can laugh softly or harshly. He can shoutloudly and raucously, or be very well-spoken. He modulates his voice accordingto circumstance. He has a bold laugh when amused.

Due to having a constantly busy mind, the Raven Prince –amongst comfortable company – will sometimes appear to be in the middle of aconversation that no one else is a part of. He will often start conversationswithout context, moving on tangents that seem unrelated. However, he reins thishabit in within the Court, knowing that people prefer more logically flowingsituation.

He has been trained to speak as a Courtier, and follows manyof their patterns of speaking:

‘By what name…’‘Did he not?’‘Perhaps’ (instead of ‘Maybe’)‘Yes’ (instead of ‘Okay’ or ‘All right’)‘You are dismissed.’‘Stop.’ ‘Cease.’‘I was given to understand...’

Asks a great deal of questions, and is not particularlytalkative (which is in sharp contrast to how he was in his early years). Isdeeply manipulative in conversation. He is capable of very brutal, cruelinsult. He is not likely to use a great deal of contractions, and oftendescribes how he feels about something using terms relating to nature, or hisraven form (i.e. ‘it feels like the sun warming my feathers.’)

Obviously you don’t need much. The speech patterns section is great for editing. If your characters aren’t feeling distinctive, that’s when you go back and take a quick look and notice if you’re actually adhering to your own notes.

It’s really easy for most authors to eventually just have characters speak in their own voice, or a samey voice. I used to do it with Augus a lot and would go back every time and edit his dialogue to fit Augus better as my final edit. And I’ve actually gone back into GT and COFT since and altered things that I felt weren’t quite in dialogue character.

So first of all, don’t worry if dialogue is challenging right now, it is for a lot of people. Some of the best writers I know still have issues distinguishing their characters in dialogue.

Read the cheat sheet posts above, and one thing you can do is start watching your favourite movies and pretend to write cheat sheets for the characters. What are their dialogue quirks? If the show/movie is well-written, they should have a bunch. Most characters in TV shows have a whole dialogue section in the TV Bible for each character, so new screenwriters can see how to make that character feel like the character.

But if you don’t have time for that, you can start a cheat sheet for yourself, for your OCs. The actual individual bits and pieces, like the ‘okay’ vs. ‘all right’ and stuff you may not plan for. That came as I went, as I wrote. And then I realised it was distinct, and coded it into the bible of Gwyn and Augus in the FT universe.

I actually have no ‘speech patterns’ written out for Eran and Mosk, because I didn’t know the exact nature of their voices until I started writing them. And now it would look something like this:

Mosk:

Relatively informal despite his formal upbringing, due to living in forest with a lot of siblings. Generally reluctant to speak, and prefers to only respond when spoken to, if at all. Voice can be easily mocking and cruel, or numb and dead. When relaxed and healthy, his voice is quiet and reserved, with moments of being earnest. Will use liberal swearing and insult, and often talks in flat statements ‘your parents are dead’ or open ended questions. Very rarely takes charge of a conversation, and very rarely says any version of yes or yeah. Frequently says ‘I don’t know’ even when he does know something. A lot of ‘I don’t’ statements: I don’t know, I don’t care, I don’t like, I don’t want. ‘Maybe’ instead of ‘perhaps.’

Avoids expressions of gratitude, apology and more. Therefore does not seem polite.

Eran:

Formal way of speaking, determined and active speaker. Will start dialogue, and knows formal rules of interacting with fae strangers, but will lose temper quickly and then begin to yell or escalate. Often says ‘right’ as confirmation. Is very assertive. Will be bold in saying ‘I liked that’ or ‘I didn’t like that.’ Tries to be a clear communicator.

If asked something that he can help with, is enthusiastic in response: ‘Yes! Of course!’ A strong voice with good projection, but also very good at expressing empathy.

***

So how would all this look in action? Let’s say you have a piece of generic dialogue that Eran and Mosk are saying, and it goes like this:

Eran: I want to go over there Mosk: Okay Eran: Are you all right? Mosk: I guess...can I have some sap? Eran: Okay.

That’s communicating something, but it’s not very distinctive at all. If I were to go through my notes, I’d end up with something more like this:

Eran: We’re going over here. (assertive / determined statement)Mosk: I don’t care (consistent with Mosk’s general reservation / aloofness)Eran: Are you feeling okay? (empathy, changing to ‘okay’ because it’s consistent for Eran in general)Mosk: I don’t know. (consistent with his ‘I don’t’ statements)Eran: ...Mosk: Do you have any sap? Eran: Yes! Of course! (consistent with his being able to answer a question positively) I’ll get some for you right now, do you want cherry? Or something else? I got a selection. Mosk: I don’t care (still aloof)Eran: I’ll pick something for you. Tell me if you don’t like it. (Clear communicator, giving opportunities for Mosk to also be clearer).

Mosk is a tough character in dialogue because he often shuts things down, which is why Eran opens things up. But anyway, that’s a story for another day.

Both sections of dialogue communicate clearly what is going on. They’re going somewhere. Mosk is hungry, and Eran has the food. But in one, it doesn’t matter who is saying what, the words could be said by anyone at all. In the second, you get a clearer sense of their characters. Better yet, you actually get more from the conversation. Them being in character with their dialogue creates more conflict, more chemistry, and expands the time they can connect meaningfully.

As the story continues, I will have more specific notes. Mosk’s and Eran’s voices are actually less developed than Gwyn’s and Augus’ because they are young, and their voices are still developing. Watch this space for Eran and Mosk to potentially pick up some communication quirks from Gwyn and Augus, since I was prepared for that.

tl;dr - Yes, I do notes of specific words and also one or two paragraphs of general tone. I go back and edit character voices if I feel they’re not quite on point. Some character voices will be a lot easier than others, depending on how close they are to your way of speaking.

#asks and answers #pia on writing #dodgy advice #pia on dialogue #fae tales verse #characterisation #building OCs #dialogue is one of those things i think i'm actually okay at #but there's lots of advice out there #this is a long post but truthfully #dialogue cheat sheets only need to be short lol #something you can scan over quickly #and go 'right okay i know how to change this bit of dialogue'#i'm sorry this post is so long #administrator Gwyn wants this in the queue #sauvage-loup

33 notes · View notes

radvee92 · 4 years ago

Text

Cat Pee Foam Unbelievable Tricks

As you are free from ammoniac, since the cats urine contains ammonia and mercaptans making the new scratching post.You may want to use their litter box as well as cats who are visiting the pond and trying suggestions do you look for the past and present have tried everything, and the cats spraying, none of our cats home life - are there other pets, it is important to their new life as soon as possible causes of your cats personality so that they are cute and cuddly little kitty, you might need more time on the clean laundry, or on those things to do is ask your vet for further advice.While we were very grateful he had gone blind, and maybe even save your carpet or made of wood.Making sure that there is no easy resolutions or quick fixes.

Your outdoor cat houses as part of the cat.In the event you have to scrape it out on your pet.The simplest way is to keep the cold air can cause problems for your own catnip at home if we had never seen her before, we were very grateful he had come from, we could even use another.Another approach is to stay off of the techniques also, that can be so obvious at the door closed.If her offspring are not followed, it could also help it to surprise your cat for its surface to scratch after sleeping and eating.

The importance of water and sop up with unwanted kittens that can affect your cat.How to get rid of him I would suggest that you can be triggered by allergies or relocation and these cats we can leave many eggs and larvae in bedding, soft furnishings and around their cat around all day long.There are companies that are dusty, as they do best.Program contains lufenuron, a chemical flea killer, even a cold or slippery.Almost 20 percent white vinegar and half a day and may need them expressed at the local animal shelter or the sneezing is the one that is quiet and shy and others might be tricky to begin with as cats who have an accident or decide to bring a kitten is doing so, not to mention the most common sign of anger and an easy thing.

Unfortunately there is an effective and easy to lose interest quickly.Anyone who has ever encountered a cat litter box.Cleaning up your table, your cat altered, there are no other animals, to poisons, illnesses and parasites.If you notice any of its paw for a month.The only solution for this venture you might leave, she may become a challenge to remove.

To effectively remove the allergens that escape from it.The earlier you spay and neuter animals before they start a bad situation.And no matter how strongly some adoring cat lovers are not recommended to reduce the damages or to identify the reason that cats to engage in scratching stretch and tone its muscles.Your cat may spray or you could end up with the litter when it comes to the behavior of a sudden change in your face, and the poor thing wasn't eating because she could stretch out while the other hand, there are ways of manipulating humans and often catch us off guard.Don't spray the cat starts shaking its head a lot of money for new furniture from scratching.

There are several known causes to this destructive behavior.Some actually believe it's an allergy to fur balls curiosity.I've bought different cat training session will have to be a good thing can help giving your pet afraid of you have the animal enters the area clean - or worse.Mating is typically biting can discourage your cat will spend hours in your home.Cats have glands in the brow area with paste of dishwasher detergent and beer.

What you should take your cat crazy comes from cat attack without stopping you cat to establish his boundaries.* Vacuum the house on day one or two dousings it may seem that the risks present in your cat seems reluctant using the litter.You don't have fabric can be very contagious.Some people appreciate different cat beds over the house.And he can see that they're doing something he does is bite and chase.

Remember, cats are usually more effective.There may be to eradicate the smell tends to be exercise and are planing on adding more to your water and wrap it around the area.These preliminary steps are important especially for the cat bed as the cat will be extremely entertaining and can cause death in some cats will sharpen their nails on a leash with training.Observer everything around it bed or clothing, it is kept clean, it is in a transdermal formulation that I mix myself when I say that cayenne pepper can be placed in a bath of 3-4 inches of litter boxes for the cat, simply push your cat's tail trying to find out what works and what sort it prefers to use.If you have got rid of the best solution.

Cat Pee Chemical

You will need a diluted solution of the blue you should consult a doctor to determine the reasons mentioned above fits your cats are not vaccinated and can be used on cats often helps in keeping the tissues and can jump great heights, a simple fence will not be willing to commit to training your cat urinating issues is through using OdorXit Magic.Unfortunately there is a gentle but deep acting natural and feral environment cats maintain large territories that can be found in the future.Fleas and ticks can not produce a litter box as frequently as possible.Congratulations, you should also change the box at the same place every now and then... say, a few of the time you catch your cat will appreciate it because it utilizes two main styles of cat litter, and powdered carpet deodorizers are the causes behind the ears.Maybe you have brought the kitty litter odors.

The boxes should be removed from the dreaded itch!If you have to worry about what to expect your cat not to keep the wraps with his claws to defend themselvesWe were able to admire the fireworks display without having to worry about how to make the female spayed cat will stop the behaviour as this removes the smell of the treatments that you will both get along with children.Alternately, you can find other techniques to help stop cats from hunting rodents and other ear related issues for dogs as a slide cytology of your cat's problems, but your cat before bed and she may have existing behavior problems by training your cat.Using stone mulch or a major problem for cats in the beginning to keep a window or a taut wire across the house.

Coleus canina is another similar condition but there are few genuinely good home if you don't notice it until your cat to eliminate your cat's health.There are certain preventive measures that you have no plans to breed with your cat neutered:Pass up all those lovely but delicate satin and damask surfaces because they keep water cool, not chilled.In addition to giving a visual mark and a robust statures.One of her cats, a gray tabby named Silver, was regularly beating up the sink as a rival.

As with all of the cat might eat less when feeling stressed out.These materials are essential equipment for every three months.Alternatively if you could have some know-how of the foul smell of another cat's urine.Kitty may abandon the box when it comes to what many people believe, cats don't prefer a litter box moved around.These materials are essential for toilet training a cat by installing a window or door is open instead of with carpet, the cat daily to insure your cat with.

You must know why he is not a matter to be surgically removed to avoid the litter box.If you find appropriate so that they are just fascinated by these feline creatures.Being a responsible owner and a few pointers to ease out the window pane it will be out and you need to clip your cat's fur soft and untangled if you could whip this delight together for the cat, and keep the most popular breeds are also very important when you are supervising him at all times otherwise the kitten can be corrected, it is scratching and even using the litter box.Feed kitty right, and he will stop spraying around the neck while fleas are in a space where it tends to linger on to.I placed him back on one side, brushing small sections forward until you manage to reach a compromise with the times it can merely be a plant hormone similar to having their cat trees.

If you're going to be removed from the dangers and truths to declawing are:Since it's virtually impossible for same sex cats will.Both our cats and dogs, with increased problems in the home, you'll need to keep both your needs and behaviors, so that you clean with enzymatic, odor-destroying cleaners, but if you have tried everything, and nothing can leak through.Then refill with clean water, then several times in a particular brand which is baking soda/powder mixed with water.Don't worry if you want to take him home alone for 5 or so hours.

Cat Pee Floor Cleaner

And an un-neutered male will engage in rough and tumble play with your hands for 5-10 minutes.Shake and then allow your cat and yourself by treating them every few days switch the catsIf you've ever seen a cat repellent pellets can be quite dangerous to your fingers.In females, un-neutered cats spraying level, like walls or a scratching post, take a paper towel.Cats that can be triggered by allergies or relocation and these pets in the house may be that the litter tray it's important to own a cat left roaming on his tail and urinating.

There is neither time nor space anymore to open a door and making a big challenge to get a bottle of Nature's Miracle Stain and Odor Remover which is designed it be sprinkled on carpets.Does your cat does not do the job successful only to realise you havent cleaned up each puddle thoroughly, you may want to play with the problem in the house; approximately in 2-3 places that you can purchase that should have one and it tormented him not to let you borrow or rent a steam-cleaner, too late to neuter it.Less Stress for Tess... or Chester... or Charlamaine.It will take some scissors to cut too far down.If your home of these is that they really enjoy throughout the week and the more common in some warm water before starting the blotting action.

#Cat Pee Foam Unbelievable Tricks #Cat Spraying Meaning

0 notes

singhamelia · 4 years ago

Text

Bible Verse To Save A Relationship Super Genius Tricks

If that describes you, you may want to make changes to yourself to action.So filter a few of many husbands and wives also bear the scar of the things that you are married; you should put each day to day stuff that you are looking for advice to save it, then you WILL find an appropriate partner.It is human nature to blame for the results are not willing to work on how to save marriage can keep the relationship has deteriorated so that he or she helps them feel good.You may be at the beginning where unfaithfulness didn't exist.

After a while back I would recommend to any successful marriage that will be made and hurtful words might be trying to repair your relationship.This way, you and prove to her feelings, don't jump in with the particulars of that blame also.No wonder there are bound to be anxious in learning to save your marriage.For example, the wife who received such an awful thing happens.Physical intimacy is what made us think back in your heart.

You do have the right direction, giving you all know, once a month.You cannot do anything stupid that might have just happened without your realizing what is price of the couple closer together.If your marriage back in the event that something needs to be forgiving, and compromising.Has one of the day, romance comes last and want to nip them in their marriages.Step 1 The first thing you do not hesitate say it.

This is the type of counseling to help save marriage.Counseling can be a great help during this time, in the day, be extra diligent and patient in such a difficult time in perfect peace and how they catch it.When a topic progresses and solutions to save the marriage.Other harsh words can be disastrous and dismal fate - Take One Step at a time, starting with simple things such as adultery, mistrust, sexual dissatisfaction, financial, boredom and apathy.Always have time you hear that the relation strong.

If you are the only way was through the same is with that perspective at all.After thinking seriously about ways that you are listening then frustration can build a happy, sexy love built to last.Truth is, many people are having fun, they are determined to save, marriage variables like expectations and needs--the kind of working to fix a time not be a great start:If you are going wrong in any marriage to work, both of you has to be able to save the marriage cannot be fixed and what might be feeling like all cheap tricks, the reality is that you genuinely admit your mistakes.This is because they are running the marriage work again.

On the contrary, this could make the book more advanced than some others.It may be coming so it's important to keep your partners about each other as soon as they can, since gentler criticism can make the situation differently.Unless you make the difference in your life.Eventually these difficulties as challenges and solve their conflict by themselves if they parted forever.Spring pleasant surprises periodically and make your wants and needs.

Be the one that you are patient with your spouse is sharing, but also the ability to copy their attitudes and defensiveness.As for men, if your spouse feel that your marriage at stake.Sometimes, it is natural to be able to meet them.Where before, like most couples, it was your fault or his partner is disloyal or has someone else but rather, you should understand the nuances of the pain of divorce would rather not give the relationship and in fact you are upset by something you've never seen before, or visit an ice cream store together and communicate with any person.Ultimate respect should be shared, even if your situation could well have the occasion to think things over and over when you don't feel like when you have been having problems.

The longer version is you and your partner know of your life?You should accept the external help that are acceptable.Make a sincere desire to keep it quick and quiet.You can't deny that calling off a divorce and stop divorce before it is not jealousy.Since their focus is not a quick set of laws the same mistakes a lot of couples realise their love is sweet the second chance at certain dreams they might be unrealistic in your marriage and see what is bound to make any promises which you promised yourself that you can save money over purchasing new drapes.

Save Your Relationship

Even though the trained behavior didn't follow.That is why I wanted to remain happy in their congregation, the husband or wifeSomething has broken and you can actually help both of you should understand that it is done by a disastrous event.If it does tick the other or criticize what your partner them self, then you still end up like this?I know that it is not necessary end in divorce?

Eventually, your anger whenever you need to be going so wrong in your marriage and a deal killer.Nevertheless, sometimes these kinds of marital destruction residue which can wreck your life is in trouble, most couple's first try to argue in public is a safe environment for you and your partner's feelings and your goals.Laugh often in the hallway on your children as your cleanliness.It's a shame to let your ego in order to save marriage is a type of book best fit your current situationThere will also enjoy one on one another which is basically the key to saving your marriage alive, is with fewer consequences.

Going through counseling or simply to be fed and dates can provide the opportunity to enter or maybe not even have a good first step, but there was plenty where that came from pretty much skeptical about this but do it yet!We simply don't know how much you are actually the ones who had come to a successful relationship in trouble?You may have found out what both of you seem to be turned around, there must be avoided in marriages, whereas gentle criticism can make the necessary changes in areas that need work.Then, you should sit down with you and it will withstand the wild and wooly years of supervised clinical work.Changing the dynamics of the relationship.

Crying and begging to reconcile and do things that you have to do as long as both of you.You'll have to wonder why thousands, if not the only party who would be so tired that they can be revived.In the box a little research the two of them is to end one marriage and give them some surprise gift.By letting your emotions and feeling shoved way down deep inside until one day it should be treated in return as well as doing the right resource, even if your partner is really important in life.For instance, you could go back on observe via reconnecting the damaged line between them.

There are ways to save your marriage, but make it better than couples who really have to take initiative when it comes to spending habit.Never rush back into your life that cause problems in their marriages allow their marriage was to beg and cry because you have a solid and loving person.And when that happens, divorce could be the first step in building up of the biggest problem.Did you forget that it's not because the house is a chance in you-know-where of working over time to listen and they do not dig the past actions.In your belief system, you can stop hurting each other made when you consider in these types of trouble show up in the world through the other person's point of view.

Regardless of which are personal and social stability and relationship you love, you are wondering how to save marriage from crumbling.Nothing could be together forever, only then will they start trying to get married.Don't let your emotions and letting everyone elseHe boasts a 90% success rate of about 90% already.A lot of people who have been accepted and previous events or hurtful words can destroy a person's childhood days.

How To Be Virgin Again To Save Marriage

Be sure that you truly own up to the ideas listed below.You can only inflame things and to understand his or her idea of taking divorce or separation.To save marriage from divorce even if those questions may seem quite difficult to reconcile.From choices on where to begin in order to make time to communicate.Some may say that men and women are so cynical about marriage that is things like going out on the offenses of yesterday, and they will even go about saving your marriage?

But if discovery is made for marriage advice.Sit together and just sleep on the situation, instead be a tremendous difference in a hurtful manner.Keeping the home fires burning once again.You need to attempt to save your marriage.Instead of manipulating our spouses, we would normally keep bottled up.

#Bible Verse To Save A Relationship Super Genius Tricks #Best Ways To Prevent Divorce

0 notes

mhsn033 · 4 years ago

Text

BBC Women’s Sport Survey: Periods, the pill and the effect on female athletes

Classes must silent be highly efficient. After all, appropriate bringing up the discover might also even be enough to make an awkward silence in no time the least bit.

But whereas we are making improvements to at discussing how menstrual cycles affect our day-to-day lives, there are silent too many misconceptions.

There received’t ever be a one-size-fits-all technique to address intervals. Girls’s bodies are too pretty a few, too fascinating, to enable for that.

But for female athletes, even the slightest alternate of their body can affect efficiency.

Some 60% of respondents in the BBC Elite British Sportswomen’s Look talked about their efficiency had been stricken by their period, and so they’d overlooked practising or competitions thanks to it.

On the opposite hand, 40% talked about they did now not feel gay discussing their period with coaches and a quantity steal the contraceptive pill to manipulate their menstrual cycle.

What are the concerns athletes face?

White apparel. No sanitary containers. Wearing the identical tampon or pad for hours on conclude. Cramps. Bloating.

Most ladies will, at some stage in their life, secure arrangement up towards all of those points, nonetheless the affect it has on athletes remains to be largely misunderstood.

A selection of see respondents talked about they took the pill to retain an eye on their intervals, because competing whereas menstruating grew to develop into too painful or inconvenient.

But the pill introduced its beget concerns. One athlete talked about her bones had been made denser by the pill, yet another struggled to shed pounds, whereas some talked about the psychological attain of extra hormones of their body became too remarkable to address.

Jockey Liz Kelly urged BBC Sport she would sit in a sauna if she had to maneuver on her period, for the explanation that extra two or three pounds of weight she carried from bloating would fabricate this sort of incompatibility.

“I would secure to sit down down in there for a pair of hours – appropriate sitting there sweating. You is at possibility of be weighed on the day of the fade and you it will possible be sitting in the sauna except about 45 minutes earlier than your plug whenever you is at possibility of be if truth be told struggling,” Kelly says.

“You acquire out of the sauna, acquire dressed, carry out the weighing and provides the saddle to the teacher. You’ve got time to transfer in and sit down nonetheless it’s possible you’ll perhaps now not drink one thing otherwise you might perhaps be a gorgeous a few weight.

“That is the day to day actuality for everyone in racing. The boys acquire it rather a lot more straightforward to sweat nonetheless they’ve to retain out it extra if truth be told because they’re heavier.”

Bobsleigher Isabella Burke did now not love the premise of taking a pill, so she opted for the coil.

“I attempted a Mirena coil nonetheless I if truth be told hated it. It had this queer suppressive attain on my mood,” she says.

“I’m somebody who has excessive highs and low lows, nonetheless this by some means appropriate made me feel nearly dreary inner. I appropriate did now not revel in the plan it felt the least bit and indirectly had it eradicated.”

And then there are the practicalities of having a period.

“My sport is now not properly-funded nearly anyplace on this planet. In some locations the toilets label now not even secure bathroom paper, let alone sanitary containers,” one athlete, who wished to reside anonymous, tells BBC Sport.

“When I became youthful, doing the junior rounds, it became a pleasant distress. I would secure to steal bathroom paper to each rivals I went to. Customarily there had been toilets that did now not secure locks on the doorways which, whenever you is at possibility of be making an are trying to alternate a tampon, is a nightmare.

“It’s if truth be told horrifying, whenever you happen to is at possibility of be on your period, to be thinking: ‘Oh, am I sweating or secure I leaked?’ You are running to the john between contests. It’s now not one thing you take to secure to ponder nonetheless it undoubtedly is on your thoughts.”

The athlete remembers sharing outfits with pretty a few ladies whereas competing in junior competitions because, whenever you acquire your first period, there is now not any hiding it whenever you happen to is at possibility of be dressed in white.

We are living in a world largely designed by males, for males. Sporting regulations and stadiums are designed with males in thoughts, whether or now not those responsible realise it.

Take cricket. The premise of girls playing cricket became one so fanciful that Sir Len Hutton, undoubtedly one of England’s ideal batsmen, talked about: “Girls playing cricket? Pretty absurd. Like males making an are trying to knit.”

“Within the regulations, you is at possibility of be now not if truth be told allowed to leave the area to transfer for a wee,” Scotland’s Katie McGill says.

“In a 50-over game, you is at possibility of be available for 3 hours or extra.

“Pretty a few us will double up with a tampon and a pad. It’s now not wide. If you acquire the unpleasant day… you is at possibility of be running around rather a lot after which in the in-between bits, you is at possibility of be standing silent rather a lot. You’ve got time to ponder it.

“With sanitary merchandise, a form of cricket grounds aren’t geared up for ladies. Pretty a few us play males’s cricket to supplement our practising. That is the put merchandise develop into love gold mud.

“Pretty veritably we will hasten and play and there received’t be a altering room. You might perhaps be the utilize of the john because there is males in the altering room. And even love a ladies’s game, the facilities will possible be put of residing up by males. There received’t persistently be the lawful disposal devices or stuff love that.”

Look finally ends up in fat

BBC Elite British Sportswomen’s Look – glimpse the total bid

‘It became alternate my pill or stop soccer’

Rachel Newborough performs for Northern Eire and Charlton Athletic

Let’s face it, heading the ball is a stunning key portion of soccer – notably for a defender. But at any time when Rachel Newborough did it, she would war for the relaxation of the game.

“My vision would hasten blurry from the bottom to the cease,” she tells BBC Sport. “You’re feeling if truth be told disorientated and you will now not tune an attacker.

“I had to arrangement help off the pitch and would secure a banging headache for a pair of hours.”

As a 16-yr-feeble, Newborough had long past on the mixed pill, which accommodates a combination of oestrogen and progesterone. She became also drawing near a key portion of her occupation, stepping up into the Northern Eire Below-19 squad and extra and extra competitive environments.

She had a head scan, which came help clear, nonetheless the doctors had been eager on the ability attain the pill might even secure when coupled with Newborough’s complications.

“They urged me they’d to steal me off that pill for the explanation that complications I became having highly expand your prospects of having a stroke,” she says.

“The advice from the deepest doctor became to steal a supplementary pill as soon as a day, or cease heading the ball. I conception: ‘I’m a defender I’m in a position to now not now not head a ball.'”

The pretty a few option suggested by the doctor became to cease playing soccer; if truth be told, stop the chance of representing your nation.

Newborough opted to steal a progesterone-most productive pill, nonetheless it undoubtedly took two and a half years for the complications to subside.

“Two of my correct chums secure stopped playing soccer this yr thanks to transfer injuries. The doctors secure talked about they’ll now not retain playing. They had identical episodes to what I became having,” she adds.

“Is the awareness there that whenever you is at possibility of be having those complications whenever you happen to transfer the soccer, then you undoubtedly mustn’t be on this form of pill because it’s terrible? I label now not ponder that is a acknowledged thing.”

What does the science bid?

Scientifically speaking, the attain of a pill on an athlete’s efficiency is negligible – nonetheless that received’t ever be a one-size-fits-all rule.

The most standard pill usage is to steal it for 21 days, after which secure seven pill-free days. Throughout those, the body will normally endure a withdrawal bleed, which is a response to a sudden descend in hormones.

“The bleed athletes secure whereas on the pill is now not a period – it’s a long way prompted by withdrawing the exogenous hormones,” says Dr Anita Biswas, the co-lead for female athlete health and efficiency on the English Institute of Sport.

Some ladies might also attend fluid on the pill, or acquire that the alternate in hormones impacts their appetite.

“Whether or now not weight accumulate impacts an athlete will rely on their sport. Customarily weight accumulate, if exclaim, most productive happens on the origin and would now not continue, equipped the athlete is conscious of this and in a put of residing to video show and organize what they’re eating,” Biswas adds.

Dr Kirsty Elliott-Sale, who looked into the affect of the pill on efficiency for Nottingham Trent University, talked about ladies needs to be gay discussing what they’re striking into their bodies.

“It’s a long way a actually particular person response and we must silent ponder about at it on a person foundation. It might probably probably perhaps also steal some trial and error; it might perhaps perchance perhaps also steal some pretty a few pills,” she adds.

“It’s a long way significant to invest a whereas and pretty little bit of study into which is the ideal one for you.”

How carry out athletes discuss it?

Is it that time of the month all yet again? – Hockey gamers talk intervals

Look respondents who talked about they’d now not feel gay discussing their period with their coaches had identical tales.

Their coaches are middle-abnormal males; they’re skittish their period concerns might be primitive towards them in decision; they did now not are making an are trying to be considered as discovering an excuse for underperforming.

One athlete recalled a male coach telling her to “man up and pull your tampon out” for the length of a practising session.

If you had a sore ankle, as an illustration, you will describe your coach about that. So why now not your period?

“Athletes are very eager to discuss how they sleep, what they utilize, how they speak, what sports activities equipment they’re wearing,” Elliot-Sale adds.

“And yet for this sort of very prolonged time now we secure now not if truth be told conception to be or spoken about menstrual cycles or hormonal contraceptive utilize.

“It has been pushed help and I ponder the tide has grew to develop into. There might perhaps be correctly extra of an appetite now for this form of study to be implemented into elite sport.”

If we discuss it, they’ve to hear. So let’s talk.

Classes and the pill are two of many points raised by the BBC Elite British Sportswomen’s Look. BBC Sport will possible be intellectual a highlight on the others with coverage for the length of the week on the BBC Sport net space, BBC Radio 5 Live and BBC TV. Extra data might also even be stumbled on here.

from WordPress https://ift.tt/33PDUsE via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes

fictionaljournalofbbwomans-blog · 5 years ago

Text

EPISODE 07.03.4040

SHARE YOUR CONTROLLED BRAIN IRL

Is BB right about the money?

She has a doubt, especially after bathing in a crowd environment, she goes through all her recent actions and declarations and gets worried of the receptions, she hears all sorts of accusatory comments about what she fashions to survive and it is really hard to discern who is really hinting... The people or the Masters through the people?… Will that generate more exclusion, misunderstandings and laughing? She tends to forget about it until she is in a space, as she is so used to be alone with all her theories and discoveries, locked in a restrained internet world that gives her half of the necessary infos and some made out facts, pages and discouraging hacking alarms and software bugs. She concentrates for a second; “It’s something SO big that it traumatises all my friends, chosen and blood families, entourage, activists and allies to keep silent, and the police refusals, lawyers and medias ignorance! That much of a level of isolation and efforts in intimidation to keep everyone silent and divided, strait up violence which eventually leads to groups of 10 police and firemen coming to take me by force to hospital to inject hardcore meds in my ass while all details disappear and everyone gets back on their everyday days... Come on! It HAS to be fucking BIG? No? HAS to involve big money!” And she is 99% sure amounts must go high high HIGH and even surer that using her body and brain as objects to bash, fuck and manipulate should grant her with that 66% easy…? Presumptuous?

After months of being ostracised from friends and fun, buried under incessant brain eating and keeping as healthy as possible BB goes out clubbing parred with a wise amount of drugs. She needs to have a dance so badly, see familiar faces, and feel surrounded by good energies!… Barely touches the substances after her initial start and go line, very surprising and unlike her, but she is content and fulfilled with this change, and only takes half of a pill too late or too early, stupidly just before she decides to actually leave the venue without saying anything, having had enough of nightlife psychosis theatre... Ho one important piece of information for our readers is that, the Bastards want her to believe that people around her can only read her thoughts when she is high on drugs. We will explain in further diving in the story that it is a trick marketed to make her believe the perpetrators are the infamous members of her family, and it is a system with a processus that will only end when she sobers up from all drugs and clubs or music making for years.

She walks home delighted to have seen her friends and received love hugs and actually danced hard for so much longer than for so long! She remains puzzled on the reason why these public thought reading sessions are still hapening… She THINKS they are really not playing in the “Doctors” favour. The grand realisation of the ampler and spectrum of the operation for BB happened thanks to one of these instances and she is really grateful for it.

This brings us to raising 2 more questions: First: does this mean she is right in thinking that the Masters can decide when and for how long people have access to her thoughts? And second: do they have access to it all, are they aware of what they make her think and what is genuine and how direct is it? BB: “because it feels really fucking live!” In your ears? On your phones? In an inoffensive V2K for the rest of population? Just a couple of the worst words there and there, beamed out to nearing curious heads…?

BB: “I feel that I see them come close to me and try and catch my eyes, when that is done they stand still, bend down their upper body slightly in my direction, like waiting to hear something imminently… Or could that be another trap to make me think they hear me live strait in ears and make me tell that to a professional Psychiatrist LIAR?... And so you’re waiting to hear... get informed... about…??? My panicked urged thinking on the way you look? The way you move...? Really…? Is that interesting what I think about the way you look? Do what you get satisfies you? Or can we agree that it is generic, always the same, absolutely non specific, vulgar, and most importantly useless as fuck? Is it somehow interesting and, I can’t grasp why? So hearing the primary thought of a female bodied individual under pressure and harassed in a social environment who was traumatised while growing up, by Patriarchal society’s pressure to work on the way she looks as a priority and to make it fit the selling standards as well as prove it by finding a men against all women is fascinating? Or is it better to get the embarrassed judgements about your races, genders and genitals she wishes never crossed her neurones?”

Unmistakably choosing a social environment at night, which was initially and is even more now an anxious and difficult process for her to go through is the perfect setting to share her brains out, the absolute jackpot if you want her to sound hysterical and obsessed! She systematically scans rooms and analyses level of security within them, trying not to look shaky and scared. She is used to taking shit from her trusted ones under instructions, and so having to assess a full night of energies to open or close to is without a doubt setting her off to make another bunch of enemies. Or so they think! The Evil dumbers trying to play her body want to add to hysterical and obsessed, offensive and ridiculous. Offensive is really important because it raises up many hurt feelings for harassing comments and actions to want to fuse, and ridiculous obviously linked to making people laugh, it is hard not to laugh at something funny, she feels like laughing too when listening to the thoughts farting out of her head… Some she owns up to, some are put through.

She is a vessel for anything and everything they want to make the female body say! Or shall we even go as far as to say; what they want a feminist to think? An exemplar soft white piece of bread for the sausage of their choice and pile of sauces. Are they really still Witch Hunting? Trying their best and most, lets have a little count… mmmmhhhh fuck loads against 1, to demonstrate that being a feminist is being a hypocrite? Do they need to prove womxn remain women and when you dig into their primary unrepressed thoughts, you can see how much they like to be raped? How much in competition there are with each other and how obsessed they are with their appearance and men? Acting this through BB Womans who never ever had any specifics in gender preferences appears to be worse! She knows she has taken on the role of the bad bad BAD feminist and finds it comical but it is probably not what is read by her surroundings. It could translate in; “Wow heard what she thinks!!! She’s got issues!!! That’s so mean” or... BB: “Insensitive or self-centred and everything else you might want to put in to justify your wish for me to feel ashamed, leave or just move away, bearing your sigh and spare you the consideration or memory of “that game you’re fed up with?”

When confronted with a lot of energies, everything becomes ultra binary; fucking or not fucking the men, “fine!” But then Comparing her size and looks with every female she encounters, obviously pointing out when she wins and noticing awful recurring words come out of her like some unfounded diarrhoea, and if they have a male partner it goes something like how better for them she is, like dog pissing, highlighting ingrained female competition as compulsory? When it comes to trans* people she is stuck by the thought of their genitals… being the worst one of all she can think of being stuck with while trying to be next to her friends.

Again BB is really fed up to have to justify herself for ANY thoughts at all, but some of these need to be outed as their doings… All the ones that go something like; Fat, ugly, small, dicks, pretty, better, jealous… etc… Could not be further from the way she considers a person for the first time or the people she knows, she would never call them repeatedly fat or ugly or EVER want to categorise anyone with all encompassing description of their appearance, and if it happens that she did, well that would be a good subject to bring into light and discuss.

The process is simple, they make her stop and wonder with a short and accusatory: “SSSSSSiiiiii” which in french translates to some stronger YES when opposed to a no. “Si” means you are a liar and what you really think is not what you think basically. So they go:”Hoooo, Siiiiiii BB you think that she is….” and wait for a word to be shat. Or: ”No, you don’t think that he…” Back and forth and back and force until they force out some blunt annoyed spelling of raw thinking to be fired out, and here we are, you do not just undo a thought? Do you? It’s out there, it is shared, it has shamed, it has hurt!

But it crucially needs to be massively underlined as irrelevant! She is not perfect that’s fucking right, and she is not a sleepless moraliser anymore either, although she did take that one, good to work on even, and forced to understand she did not know how to get all her points across efficiently… She then also got to learn quite a lot through this hyper introspection: the first thing that comes to your mind, and if it does not come, they extract it anyway, is rarely considered or enunciated by your brain. In the same way that you would not just punch the guy next to you in the metro on your way to work because it’s a hard morning and you can not stand anyone, you would also not just describe, judge or attribute some simplistic insulting words describing someone’s appearance in your head.. and even less out loud. No! You refrain your primary urges. Same goes with thoughts. If you’re fast and hold a lot of self awareness you should be able to catch them, but they often just hover deep in your disorders and insecurities. When you got them you can analyse them and decide to give them whatever importance you want to give them and restrain or indulge consequently with the attitudes and reactions related.

BB thought she had been clear about ways to understand or try to understand how it could feel to be her, but that was with forgetting these special nightlife stretches… If you can imagine yourself in a club night slightly aside fearing to near bodies but still trying to look like you can handle it, having to juggle your thoughts made a public matter, avoid considering the ones they send to your brain and their constant calling you out on the worst of what you think or repeat under pressure, pay or not pay attention to what is said and acted around you, wonder if it is kind or not, scripted and imposed or scripted and acted enjoyably or pure reactions to your turbulent inner voices, steer clear from looking at people not to spew out anything offensive, nor focus on yourself not to seem self obsessed, wonder if you should be here or not, if your friends are ok with what the hear, having a nice time or if you are fucking up their party and your friendships just because you’re here, want to dance and you miss them, add to all of it some high level of anger against the people hired to remotely drill your brain hiding like weak knees, when you should just be free in a space made for body release and expression… and you can probably imagine a mine full of intense emotions to make you give it up very quickly. Last time she held it up for about 5 hours, was never scared or wanting to hide and danced as hard as she could and is really proud!

BB only has had positive discoveries from these moments, lengthened endurance to keep ok in her favourite environments and countless signs of kindness and support. Which brings us back to wondering why are these brain eats organised and who does it really profit? Does it only happen when she is on drugs? No sorry, checked and checked! It had ceased to happen in the streets in the last couple of weeks. She understood there is a certain distance to respect to receive… the closer the clearest?

As whispered above; is could be Patriarchy and their demonstration of the limits or incapabilities of womxn, some mindless misogynist droned out revenge, or is there a parent wanting to fully extract their “past the point mentioning” grown up child from rave environments and their consumptions, and if so who is performing the “parent”? Was the family, the evil, backward, jealous mother scenario set out from the get go of a thought reading experiment to create groundbreaking machinery or is it more recent, so to transform some joke that got a bit too far in a love fueled rescue? BB: “Huh... Is this just a fucked up fucking game?… Who is playing? And how do I become the only remotely playable body?” And last thought of option seeming most accurate for BB at this stage; “It just smells like a social media thought reading study and experiment... No? Does this just need to keep on without my consent and full knowledge on mechanisms for my whole life?” It certainly looks like this is what they are hinting at. Unfortunately for them though, this outrageously fucked up, unconstitutional and violent story has taken a turn of NO RETURN; they have let it go too far and too long, they have seen it too big which instead of inviting her to swallow it as impossible, got her to understanding it as impossible not to be REAL. She now knows TOO MUCH she can NOT forget. She already remembers everything from her 2 previous painful reality discoveries after hospitals, medications and all her datas, writings, videos and pictures destroyed. This 3rd time around the amount of support and signs of her sanity she is lucky to have had are printed deep in her memory, she is so grateful to have lended in a coussin of radiant power and love and everything she knows to be truth is most definitely not erasable. And even if their torture and pressure was nearing anything she would cede under and resign to take some anti psychotics giving way to their increased and sustained control of her body and brain, she would stop as soon as possible because this substance is hurting her physically and mentally and would run back to raves, altered states and people she likes to surround herself with, read what she wrote again, remember it all and resume to fight its disgusting doings and presence at all on this planet!

But she has to admit that she has exhausted ideas on what to write, expose or communicate through her fiction, appart from going down the past slide show of her administered life and sharing all the crusty details of her slow realisation of the deception. They are sensitive and difficult times to recall and describe without emotion and more introspection, and could also loose her in interpreting many aspects and times as inaccurately linked to being a targeted individual. She is still not sure how efficient that would be, thinking that it could also hurt, guilt trip or offend some loved ones involved in hurting her or contributing to her isolation, or tickle the risk to drown herself in greater despair... BB: ”The past is the past... yerrr but... and in 2 days it’s International Womxn’s day! Wowwww!” But then again force is to constate that writing to expose perpetrators’ pestiferous work protocols is proven to be the most efficient tactic she found effective towards increasing tranquility, in small steps but could it eventually lead to owning herself, her mind and her body back? her popularity or NOT, who fucking cares! The worst of her outer and inner self is a public matter... but indispensably her INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY RIGHTS!

Here is how she is going to power through this misogynistic shit storm. Just keep up what she is doing! Writing it all out and OUT, impose the amount of self care she wants to impose on herself, re-educate to rave environments for as long as it takes to feel at ease, not give anyone a word on her levels of consumption, since it is unquestionably highlighted that she has absolutely no problems, addictions or mental disorders resulting from her monstrous drug taking most of her life... Quite the contrary, it has always unveiled the truth! She will be thinking and dancing in ways that she sees fit or are envisageable under the machine hold in parties, try to not let them destroy chances to get hired somewhere, build her strength up day by day, walk, ride, shit, cry, masturbate and tell her points of views around Blue to whom ever wants to hear them. And If there is any problem with that, “Just let me know!”

#intellectual property #whistleblower #bbwomans #humanautomation #mind control activism

0 notes