#AE/EA

[no-on3-n0e]

Apocalypse Everyday/

Everyday Apocalypse

4.

It’s gonna hurt so much.

The Beat! didn’t have an office or headquarters, but it did have a building.

A magnificent tower at the very center of the surface sector, reaching all the way to the top of the dome.

Through the great columns of the filtration system, the great red glow of The Beat! beaconed with the filthy openness of a Pleasure Lounge.

The building had the look and feel of the classical architecture of the second millennium- the glass spires of the skyscrapers of yore. It was even squared off slightly at the bottom the way old buildings used to, but tapered more like a needle the higher up on went. The tower glittered in the burning light of the sun, and cast its own glow into the night, and all throughout the cycle, the huge red letters on the sides read out THE BEAT!

It was an intimidating and beautiful thing;

unless you knew the joke.

The great tower wasn’t really a tower at all. Most of it was just the dome's support beam, and only the first two floors were even accessible.

Most people would never get close enough to notice the sloppy facade, the single dingy door, the feeling of oppressive lifelessness about the whole place.

There weren't any filters this far from the edges, so the air was warm and felt almost sticky. The ground began to slope slightly the closer one got to the hub, so the silt that would occasionally find its way through the filters would all inevitably end up here. The area was also strangely noisy. The many networks of wires and cables sending electricity, heat, fuel , coolant, and Fume  knows what else up and down the gargantuan support beam. 

It hummed without end.

The combination made one feel like they were being pressed into a great wall of static, every sense being activated to absorb the unintelligible noise. It filled in the spaces where silence ought to be, but it added nothing. 

The brain at a certain point could adjust slightly, ignore the noise, breath slowly and deliberately, walk carefully to not stir up the dust, but it just doesn't stop.

It just didn’t stop.

Spend an hour there  and you’d have a headache, spend a week there you’d lose your mind.

Joneson had lived here his whole life.

The dark red crawl of night rolled across the surface sector and the glowing red letters of The Beat! lit in response as Dave crossed the last few steps to the small heavy door on the side of the tower.

And then he stopped. He stood for a while to collect himself for the task ahead of him.

He’d been inside the building many times over his 40 or so MegaSecs working for The Beat! .

Dave thought it was one of the strangest places anyone had ever come out alive from.

The first floor was an old-fashioned style domestic living space. It was some of the finest old antiques to survive the Division. Joneson even had a kitchen, filled with appliances that had been used to prepare old-world food; a popcorn machine, an apple corer, a potato peeler. Joneson would proudly show them all to Dave everytime he came over.  

Then the old man would guide Dave over to one of the many ornamental seating arrangements, describing to him once again the harrowing stories of the travels of this piece or that, transported by some of the very first pilgrims to leave the old world for the colonies, before the Divide even.

The second floor was where all the data banks  for The Beat! were stored. 

The racks of heavy machinery warped the floor above where Joneson lived, and repairs and installations were extra tedious thanks to the stairs.

Why the strange arrangement? Why not keep that crap on the ground floor? Dave had asked the man the first time he’d been over, back when he was naive about his triggers to rant.

He’d gotten a tirade about zoning this, regulation that, and so on and on.

Dave got the impression that Joneson wanted the inconvenience, enjoyed the feeling of self-sacrifice that came with the danger and misery; or maybe he was just hoping that one cycle that gravity would finally give him an ‘out’ that wasn’t his fault.

Dave stood before the door for an age, listening to the hum run through his bones, the thin silt in the air tickling his nose hairs, tasting strangely burnt in the back of his throat.

When he could no longer find any thoughts to stall him… yes, nothing else to stall him… nothing? No, nothing at all-

Dave knocked.

No response.

“Mr. Joneson? It’s Dave, I was coming to check in”

No response.

Dave knocked a little harder and raised his voice,

“It’s Dave Win, sir- I’ve got an update about that info you wanted me to grab”

There was only silence- or well, only the constant noise of the relentless thrum, but Dave couldn’t hear any other human sounds- nothing that even indicated the man was inside.

Anger gripped Dave for the nth time since he’d started this whole disastrous cycle. 

This was a complete abandonment of the norm in their relationship, a disrespect that clawed down his already raised nerves.

Dave was the only person who ever came to seeJoneson anyway. Joneson didn’t go out, ordered everything through drone carts, and had a private hygiene and waste cubical. Probably nobody even knew what he looked like anymore since his public photos hadn’t been updated in hundreds of cycles.

Dave looked around in frustration, trying to find something to get the attention of the man inside. He got deliveries, right? So, how would the drone’s alert him to pick up his stuff? 

Half of a strange thought bubbled up in Dave’s mind, a mental image of one of the efficient little hovering discs Total used for deliveries. He pictured it unfolding a precisely segmented robotic arm, at the end of which was, against all reason, a misshapen white-gloved hand reaching out and pressing a doorbell to announce itself. 

He hadn’t meant to chuckled under his breath,and he had absolutely no idea where the impulse came from, but he then said out loud,  in a quiet sing-song voice -

   ‘Ding-dong’--

– And there was sudden tearing in the fabric of local reality as Joneson threw the door open with such force that it bounced on its rollers just as Joneson attempted to lurch forward.

His roar of rage turned into a screech of pain as the door hit his arm. 

Dave leaned back some, but otherwise did not move away. He knew not to change his face until he was sure what expression to show, and he had no idea how to react right now.

The man’s rage broke enough for him to bark out three harsh word-noises- 

“What’dyda callinme nay?”- 

what did you call me- what are you calling me- what did you call me now..- Dave’s mind raced through various translations, but his mind couldn't fathom what the man thought he’d been called-

 Dave put up his hands and tried to shrug against the vague acqusation, 

“ I-”

Joneson shoved a shaking fist at Dave, spitting out slurred expletives  ;

“Ding your fucking dong-ding fuck Dave- rip your fucking dingdongdickhole bitch’ll kill’ll you feck-

“What?!” Dave stammered back, “I didn’t say, I mean I wasn’t saying to you anything, I was just thinking about a joke-”

At the word ‘joke’, Joneson’s already cartoonish rage became an almost abstract display of color and motion. 

Dave spoke quickly to push through the impending armageddon

“No! Its just a joke, I heard it while I-”

 a thought shot through Dave about how to de-escalate

“It was part of a joke some wannabe told while I was trying to get info from Dr. Smith- I got a sit down interview” –

 he searched his mind desperately for anything that would get the rancid old arguetainer off of him - flattery! And give him a better target-

“You’ve been right about everything Srax! Dr.Smith, the- there’s this- BIMBOT! He’s gonna use the Update to turn them all loose. He’s got this whole army of  bimbots coming for– fo-for-”

for what? Information? Property- what would get someone like Joneson excited? 

 “OUR PRECIOUS BODILY FLUIDS!” 

Dave put his arms into the air, selling the horror with a physical display of how impacted he was by this dark secret. His next move was a bit of a gamble considering how volatile the man could be, but Dave took the chance and put his hands on either side of the man’s shoulders, and when Dave dramatically looked into his boss' face, he saw in the man’s wide dependent-like expression of mischievous glee that he’d made the right choice.

He leaned in, confiding in the man with a conspiratorial whisper,

“I’ve got it all! All the documents- the White Papers! They’re on video admitting it! But Smith set one of them- he’s got them disguised as people! He’s got one of them to steal my TD!”

There- everything taken care of all at once. 

Now he had more time, didn’t have to explain losing his TD, and he could count of Joneson’s full support on destroying Synamon.

He found that he was quite proud of the fresh conspiracy he’d come up with on the spot.

The idea that an ‘Intimate Companion AI’, or a bimbot as people like Straximillion thought of them, could operate outside of the specialized quarters of the Entertainment District was a source of constant moral panic. 

The synthetic lovers were the only AnthroTools that were still required to be plugged into an on-site power source, and the data banks that were the repositories of all their carnal knowledge was kept on specially stored networks where their indecent nature couldn’t taint the AnthroTools vital to survival.

Suspicion was built into them, their temptatious forms offering a home to all kinds of human vice. It was very easy for The Beat! to get out at least an article per cycle on how the dens of sweet reprise were exploiting the Laborers, were being used to do this or that experiment of people, were being used to destroy families and Laborer Corpo-Unions, and on and on and on and-

And maybe Dave could even get Joneson to give him a new TD! He might be able to talk him into getting an upgrade too. 

If it was for a story this juicy after all…

The information went through Joneson’s mind slowly. His heaving breaths slowed some and his glassy bright blue eyes stopped rolling erratically, and focused on Dave. 

Dave took in the man as he began to settle back into the regular-irregular form he remembered.

It was impossible to truely tell the man’s age. If he was as old as he looked, he’d have been dead for at least fifty cycles. 

He was completely hairless, wrinkled and yet swollen.

His skin was a mismatch of discolored patches, netted with inflamed blood vessels, dark marks of illness, sun damage, and age.

Dave assumed the man was mostly blind by now because his milky blue eyes would roll unfocusedly and bulge as he ranted. 

He gave the general impression of a baby that had hadn’t aged, but instead rotted as it got older.

Still, there was something remarkable about the old man, the way he just truely never seemed to stop, the sheer in-exhaustive amount of energy that he could put into the stupidest things out of sheer stubbornness to do things the way he wanted to. 

The gas tanks, for example.

As the man hobbled and wobbled into the living quarters of the tower, he dragged with him the ever present canisters of medicated gasses.

He refused to ever take a step into the medical clinics, refused to allow any of the medical drones to so much as give him a diagnostic scan.

He instead relied on Blue-times tech specially made for him by a craftian in the Memeorical district.

Each tank cost enough credits to buy a man from a whole MegaSec’s worth of labor, and Johnson blew through at least a dozen every cycle.

If the unlabored mob had any idea the treasures that railed over their heads, the swill would rip apart the drones for the opportunity to haggle their payloads for enough credits to buy some humanity.

The gross man turned and slowly made his way back inside.

Dave waited until the man settled himself into a crumbling relic of a chair, and when he was sure the bloat-wad was relatively calm, he walked forward and began the verbal dance. 

 “ Ok Srax  buddy, this is the big one- we’ve got the Total’s star doct-“

“Don’trusd  -hes a sneaky-snake- crawllinbelly- whad-did-dee needda help anyone wid -got more goin on- them bimbot bitches-

“Yup, yup, yup” 

Dave nodded enthusiastically, letting the interruption slide past him as he barreled through to his goal-

“That’s right Srax, he’s got an evil bimbot- it’s disguised as a woman named Synamon who sto-

“- andriods- gonna gid all DN rays in with microwaves to- and everyone knows it to- it was inda docmints-...”

“YES Strax- it’s in the documents, anyway she- it- I, ah, shit-“

Dave cut himself off Johnson broke out into a gut choking cough.

“HCKn- THit-IEtt-HcCkn-GhhUh-uh-nh

The lump of a man chokedand went from the red of a wound to the red of the sky.

Dave watched as spittle expectorated across the room and it took all of his will power not to just leave.

This whole experience was even more demeaning knowing this fuck-clump was one of the most memeorically influential nodes in the colonies.

For many born within the colonies, the Arguetainer was the source of their shared memory of the Blue-times ; skyscrapers that reached to the moon, banquets of hot fresh food that were refilled every cycle by abattoirs and fields that teemed with all manner of animals and plants, family homes with whole rooms filled with filtered water that a full grown person could submerge themselves in for simple pleasure.

Dave heard the hacks ease to a wheeze, he counted to 10 in his head, and then started his line of attack again.

“I can get the scoop, a real exclusive, an insight into the company that no one has- But!”

Dave paused for dramatic effect, Joneson leaned in

“It’s not gonna be easy” Dave concluded dramatically 

“Ahh HA-HOOoooo wee” Joneson shifted in his seat and began to pump his arm in the air as quickly as his various tubes would let him. 

“Wheeeee gottem!! we’re winning, we’re winning!” Joneson’s cries of joy were gratingly high-pitched compared to his regular low slurring. 

The joyous exclamations led to another coughing fit, and Dave found himself examining the walls as the man turned a pop-art purple. 

Every corner of the room was covered in priceless kitsch from the Blue-times.

Pages of strange text and images were tacked to every space on the walls. Advertisements, textbook pages, drawings, and diagrams depicted fauna of all varieties, some with great flat arms that hung themselves from the sky, some all but limbless as they moved through liquid medium, some that combed through and over the old world’s flora. 

The only creature Dave recognized was a mosquito, pictured on a page labeled “Deadly Insects!” the caption underneath the image of the wire-like creature said “Female mosquitoes drink your blood and make you itchy! Ouchy! They carry a deadly disease called Tuberculosis and live in polluted runoff, never go near unsanctioned water stations!”

Dave didn’t know what tuberculosis was, but he remembered seeing tubes of mosquitos along with other kinds of research specimens back when he’d been an unclassified dependent. Why would anyone keep around such a horrible creature? Especially if you had to feed it blood? Dave knew once again the thing he’d known his whole life- every smart person was a moron.

Once again the man’s ragged breathing return to a normal-ish tempo and he saw the man’s color stabalize,

“I’m going to have to go undercover to get the last piece of information I need. Everything is in place, but I need to borrow a different TD to cover my infiltration into - well, I probably should tell you where I’m going. I trust you of course, I know you’d never crack under torture, but… well, who knows who’s listening to us, and what new devices THEY might have to get into your mind and read your thoughts. Well, I guess WE will know what devices THEY have after I get my info, but, well…”

Dave let his sentence fade out without a conclusion.

Joneson was the type of person who preferred to make his own conclusions up about things, and if you wanted something from him, it was best to let him get on with his fantasies

“Ahhh HA-aaa!” gushed the elated Joneson, his thumblike head nodding in agreement with whatever conclusion he assumed Dave to be implying.

“SOoooo…” 

Dave led on, beginning to walk towards the beckoning light of Joneson’s TD plugged into the Total Home Station, the only modern piece of furniture in the room. 

“I’ll just go ahead and grab your TD, and I can get it back to you before the beginning of the next work cycle- the 34th at the very latest, and we’ll have enough stories to run a whole special- we could make run it at the beginning of Eighthmonth, that's usually a slow week for-”

“Hey!”

Joneson barked out suddenly

Dave had just got as his hand slipped around the TD when the man shouted out. 

He didn’t turn around- didn’t move at all.

He had to just stand there and try to breath because if he did anything else he was going to finally snap- going to burst that bloated wart-baby.

He waited for the man to come at him first- waited for one last word, one more vague glurb, one last tone that could be taken offense at-

Dave held the TD, unmoving, waiting for Joneson to finally break that last straw…

…

But the man was silent, save for his heavy wheezing breaths.

Was he…

waiting?

Dave slowly turned, TD in hand, prepared for the barrage of nonsense, but the man just kept looking at him.

For the first time in their relationship, the two looked each other in the eyes.

Neither looked away as Dave slowly slid the TD into his pocket.

The man gave no reaction to the unsubtle theft- his stare unflickering.

Dave realized for the first time in his life that the man had brown eyes. They were clouded with age, and red nets of blood vessels ran through the yellowing orb, but the narrow band of color was a soft light brown.

His irises were pinholes.

When he finally spoke, it came out slowly and much more clear than his usual ramble- and there was a strange note of … something

“You wanna sit wid me summore?” 

“Uuuh

 Dave had absolutely no idea how to react. This kind of request had never been made to him before from anyone- let alone Sraximillion Scorpxion Joneson IV.

Dave tried to search for what angle the old man was playing, searched those eyes for some clue to his deception…

And found nothing.

Less than nothing.

An epiphany suddenly hit Dave; he didn't need to lie to the old man, he didn't need to rob him either.

Dave could’ve just asked him for the favor.

This deflating old relic, in his creaking tower of lies and nonsense, had absolutely no one.

All he had was his forum, generated slop that would be of no interest to anyone if it weren't for Dave’s eye-catching titles and Joneson’s inflammatory delivery.

Joneson was a contrived person.

More of an idea than an individual, and probably not one single other living person had even heard his natural, unfiltered, speaking voice.

If Dave never came to see the man, never rested his eyes on his broken frame, acknowledged the existence of his living form, would Joneson even exist anymore? 

Maybe one of these cycles, Joneson’s lungs would finally pop, or his fabrication of a tower would crash in on him, or he’d finally succumb to the madness of the endless thrumming beat… 

Eventually, this man’s cycles would run out he’d be gone- but his voice, his strange energy to inspire chaos, everything he cast into the world would keep going.

And this man had no one in the entire colonies.

Except for Dave. 

A giddy sense of power washed over Dave, followed immediately by a sick wave of nausea. 

It was like realizing you were worshiped as a god by a mosquito.

“Uh, I’ve gotta head out really, I’ll definitely come again as soon as I can. Before the beginning of the next workcycle, like I said-'' Dave spoke uncertainty, though he did not make a move for the door, too completely engrossed in the pathetic vulnerability of his boss.

“I gotussome good stuffs” Joneson broke in, speaking brightly, like a bargaining dependent. Joneson waved his hand at a black jar on the table.

Morbidly fascinated, Dave picked it up and unscrewed the lid to reveal a small dark cube.

Ah, drugs.  Maybe that explained the man’s strangeness.

Dave eyed the cube curiously. 

It was dark and grainy, but light seemed to stick to it in flakes.

He picked it up and realized the thing had no weight at all and was strangely soft.

It looked a bit like the silt that built up outside the dome of the surface sector.

Sometimes during a bad storm, some of it would get through the filters and would hang in the air for hours until the vents could get it pumped out.

People had to stay in their spaces or in emergency shelters then.

Even a few minutes of breathing in the dust could rip up a person’s lungs. 

“What is it?”

Dave asked suspiciously.

He was beginning to regret picking up the strange cube.

The flecks started coming off, sticking to his fingers. Dave tried to drop the cube back into the jar, but it clung to him.

“DMA”  Joneson’s voice rang out, somehow both whispering and booming through Dave’s skull. 

The cube was disintegrated, the grains losing their form from the heat of his finger tips, but rather than falling apart it became an opaque goo.

Dave waved his hand wildly, acting in horrified instinct.

“Huhhwhau?” Dave couldn’t seem to make his mouth work.

It was sinking into him.

The darkness and the light began to grow, destroying all color. 

The light screamed, destroying all sound.

Dave’s being was flash heated by the noise, dissolved into the light.

For a lifetime, there was nothing, and then static began to form.

[n0ctiluquee]

Some Klqnce doodles I did I enjoyed doing this one so much

[whateverthought]

my dyslexic ass is having so much trouble with these names George RR Martin please have mercy

[mneiai]

new asoiaf fic, help me decide on something???

I have an idea for an ASOIAF/Dance era crossover (with some HOTD influence because they fill in a few gaps and there's a handful of things they did right/I did like better). It was vaguely inspired by my drabble through time and some of the theories about Vhagar/a dragon's personality/abilities.

It is a Jon goes back in time/becomes Daemon Targaryen's son AU. I can't decide what year I want him born in, though.

Jon "wakes up" when Maegon Targaryen (Daemon was being an asshole when he chose the name) claims Cannibal, so there's a whole life before that and the time period will affect what is happening on Dragonstone/why he's there/what he can do.

So, the possibilities are as follows (I started writing as if it was the first one, but that's easy enough to change, except that I want to write more and am now stalled lol):

Firstly, what stays the same:

-Maegon is Daemon and Rhea Royce's trueborn (and only) son.

-Maegon is far more even tempered than Daemon, and broods instead of lashing out. His crib egg doesn't only not hatch, it seems to start turning to stone just from being near him. Despite looking Valyrian, many people suspect he's not much of a Targaryen (something Daemon hates, but many others see as a good thing).

-He has a contentious relationship with Daemon because of Daemon's hatred for his mother and long absences. The King adores Maegon and Rhaenyra cares for him.

-After not having a dragon for at least a decade, he goes to Dragonstone and is basically pounced on by the Cannibal, at which point Jon Snow gets shoved into Maegon's head.

If Maegon is born 100/101: 

-Born just before Rhea becomes Lady of Runestone, helping to solidify her claim as she has a male heir. And before the Great Council, which technically gives Viserys two male heirs.

-He’d be closer to Rhaenyra’s age/a childhood companion, Daemon would think he was Viserys’ heir still for a time and that Maegon would therefore one day be King (makes Daemon getting passed over as heir harder/more insulting).

-Daemon would take him to the Red Keep often to show off his male heir (possibly seen as a motivation for Viserys to be so desperate for a son). Maegon would be used more as a tool than a son by a less mature Daemon, but if it weren't for fear of Daemon gaining influence through him, Maegon would have been betrothed to Rhaenyra.

-He would claim Cannibal when Rhaenyra first moves to Dragonstone in 113 (this would basically mean no needing to finagle the timelines and that Jon could stop some of the worst stuff that happens, but maybe that's too good of timing lol).

-He’d have a dragon to go back and forth to Runestone, especially after his mother’s death when he is old enough to immediately be lord.

-He would be a Black. Could help Rhaenyra with Laenor and keep her sons looking Valyrian. Would also possibly influence her to put more effort into being the heir/keeping power in the Red Keep, or staying in the Red Keep himself to advocate for her. They’d both resent the Greens, as even if Maegon had come to terms with Rhaenyra being heir, he definitely wouldn’t come to terms with Aegon being heir/king instead after his father and he were passed over.

If Maegon is born 106: 

-After the Mysaria/dragon egg stuff and Rhaenyra being declared heir, when Daemon is arguably at the height of his resentment for Viserys. He just lost a child to miscarriage so it may also feel like an insult that the gods gave him a healthy son with someone he hated. Possibly also some self-hatred for knowing this could have surely made him official heir if he hadn’t pushed Viserys’ hand.

-Daemon will spend Maegon’s early childhood in the Stepstones, so less influence over his life. Maegon will be more of a peer to Aegon than Rhaenyra, and could have a positive impact on him (or could be more manipulated by the Greens). He might spend time at the Red Keep at Viserys’ behest instead of for Daemon’s manipulations and see it as a second home.

-He would claim the Cannibal during Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor, maybe just after his mother dies/his father goes off with Laena in 115? This would makes him about a year younger than Aemond would be, possibly increase Aemond’s desperation for a dragon, since he’d soon be older than even Maegon was if he doesn’t claim one.

-Daemon might try to demand regency over Runestone, creating even more of a wedge between them (Maegon may also suspect Daemon of murdering his mother). Having an actual regency will allow Maegon to still be around Dragonstone/King’s Landing for the next few years without many issues, so he’d be around for Rhaenyra’s first few children’s births/early years.

-He’d be a Black…at least until Rhaenyra married Daemon, at which point she may lose his support.

If Maegon is born in 111:

-Daemon goes to Runestone before returning to the Stepstones after unsuccessfully trying to win Rhaenyra’s hand. He is in the Stepstones when Maegon is born, perhaps Rhea’s message to him was “lost” so he didn’t even know she was pregnant (who would blame her for not wanting him around...Daemon, Deamon would). Possibly Rhea even names him Jon and Daemon renames him Maegon (otherwise, possibly a Runestone tradition not to name a child until they're one).

-Daemon’s hatred for her increases even more and maybe he believes Maegon was “ruined” by his first year or so of life being raised by a non-Valyrian when Maegon does not seem enough of a dragon. Maegon also represents the missed opportunity of a child with Rhaenyra. 

-After his mother’s death, is sent to the Red Keep at Viserys' request and most often spends part of the year there and part of the year in Runestone. Maybe Alicent becomes something like a second mother. He is raised by his regent and some of the other Vale lords to suspect his father of murdering his mother and resenting Daemon for trying to take lordship of Runestone when he never spent any time there.

-Maegon is also very much a contemporary of Alicent’s children, perhaps close friends with Aemond (who shares his lack of a hatched dragon and shitty Targaryen father) when Alicent accepts that he has little of Daemon within him (and unlike Rhaenyra's children, is "obviously" not a bastard)

-He would certainly be there during the funeral trip when Aemond claims Vhagar, perhaps even with Vhagar/keeping Joffrey quiet without hurting him so that the fight never happens and Aemond never loses his eye. Either Maegon might take Aemond’s side when others criticize him for claiming Vhagar (since there was no big fight, Aemond is only at “fault” for that) or he envies Aemond too much for having finally gotten a dragon and pulls away from him.

-Claims Cannibal in 120, going to Dragonstone in desperation after Aemond claims Vhagar, with plans to claim Vermithor. Could possible delay Daemon and Rhaenyra’s plans for a secret marriage (and possibly make Aegon the Younger obviously conceived before marriage).

-He’d probably be a Green, basically he's been raised by Daemon's worst enemies, but maybe astute enough not to show it

[just-absolutely-super]

it’s taken me a very long time to realize i’ve been mispelling caesar’s name

[usafphantom2]

VAQ-137 Grumman EA-6B Prowler 158810 by Wing attack Plan R Via Flickr: EA-6B-45-GR EXCAP Prowler, C.N. P-40. Retired in 2014 to static display at NAS Fallon, Nevada, on loan from National Naval Museum. Photo Credit's: Unknown to me (reprint scan) date unknown.

[hngjkh]

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[doueverwonder]

If you’re wondering how my day is going I had to sign a bunch of paperwork and I forgot how to spell my deadname for a solid 30 seconds.

[plasmapop]

28/04/24 • catullus 51 translated via the international code of signals

BC 1 Can you communicate with the aircraft? NE 5 You should proceed with great caution; hostile vessel sighted NH 1 Are you clear of all danger? EA Have you sighted or heard of a vessel in distress?  ZL Your signal has been received but not understood. QF I cannot go ahead MBP Onset was sudden.  PG 2 I am dazzled by your searchlight. Extinguish it or lift it. [IB 4 The extent of the damage is still unknown.]  MHB Tongue is dry. YS I am unable to communicate… DV 1 I am adrift. MBE The whole body is affected. IX Fire is gaining.  FD 1 My position is indicated by rockets or flares. PG I do not see any light. EP I have lost sight of you. MY 2 It is dangerous to proceed on present course. AE 1 I wish to abandon my vessel, but have not the means. GC 2 I have searched area of accident but have found no trace of derelict or survivors

[no-on3-n0e]

Apocalypse Everyday/

Everyday Apocalypse

 3.

I’m sorry

_______________

Dave was rooted to the spot.

The gravity of his loss sticking him in place, his mind raging.

The freaks, the sheer freakery of the freaks, that insane woman, that pathetic excuse of a celebrity scientist, the waste- waste of everything, his time, his talents, all of it wasted. 

His fist closed tight around the sandwich, watching with satisfaction as the paste-like dough oozed out of the plastic film.

For a moment, the satisfaction of destruction soothed his mind, but then the moment passed and Dave was still without his TD, still without his work -his salvation from the squalor of the cohabitant zone, and now he had no diner.

Dave threw down wad, stamping it into the walkway for good measure.

There was no time to get back to the eatery before the shift change, and in any case one of those filthy unlabored scum probably already took it. If that pathetic Dr. Smith had better control over his woman, if that freak woman, that hell-maid Synamon, hadn't made his job impossible, hadn’t basically terrorized him away from the eatery, he wouldn’t have rushed off and forgotten his TD. 

It was as if the world was conspiring against him, challenging him to give into despair. But Dave knew he was smart enough to get past whatever nonsense he was forced to deal with.

Dave was special.

He had a power that no one else did, an ability that gave him leverage in every situation, let him mold the wills of lesser people, and always kept him calm in trying times.

Dave knew he was better than everyone else. That was his power.

He knew in his heart he was superior to every other person across the colonies.

It didn’t matter if they had other skills, had more credit, had things Dave wanted- Dave knew he could get those things, manipulate those minds, get people to do things for him.

So this was fine- Dave wasn’t really worried. He was fine, absolutely fine, with having lost- having basically been robbed of- his TD.

He just had to come up with a plan.

He couldn’t get into his rented space without his TD to verify his identity, but since he was unlabored he wasn’t automatically logged into the central database. Getting a new TD was also going to require trying to get an appointment with one of the representatives at Total and explain the situation if he wanted it replaced. If he was found to have been negligent in losing his TD he’d have to work one of the lines until he paid back the company for the waste of resources. Being a Pro-Quo worker was even more humiliating than being the lowest grunt laborer. At least the low-tier laborers were due the respect that all laborers deserve, but everybody looked down on the pathetic people forced to repay their debt. Getting stuck as a Pro-Quo worker could even lead to a person becoming a total dropout- then it wasn’t long before you ended up as a scum-sucker clinging to the world in the pits of the cohabitation zone.

No.

It was pointless to worry about the TD, that was gone, move forward- stay out of the pit.

So what instead?

Dave poured his heavy head into his hands, leaning against a venting column as he puzzled through what to do.

He needed somewhere he could just sit and think for a while, but there was no way to get any quiet or privacy without access to his credits. 

Dave was smart enough to not get tangled up with anyone who wasn’t useful, and so this left a very small pool of people he could go to.

Dave groaned as he realized who his only option was.

 Dave wretched internally while simultaneously beginning to get his mind in the right order to deal with his boss.

Sraximillion Scorpxion Joneson IV.

He’d been a titan back in his prime,

He had been one of the first pilgrims to join the colonies as a young child, and his family soon became key players in the prosperity of the colonies and their surface-sectors.

Sraximilion Scorpxion Joneson the Second brought the Xian church to the colonies, eventually becoming the church’s first Holy Executive Officer.

When people had arrived in the colonies with only the clothes on their back, desperate for shelter from the silt storms and the burning sky, one of the first things they would see when they finally got past the magnetic locks and into the safety of the surface-sector would be the great form of Sraximillion Scorpxion Joneson II, a sign hung around his thick neck saying ‘SALVATION!’. 

Joneson II taught the scriptures from memory, enrapturing his audience with stories of the benevolent and wrathful Xian God who had sent his only begotten son, George Washington, to found the holy land of America.

After that whole business that nobody really mentioned anymore, the title of HEO of the Xian church passed out of the Joneson family, but S.S. Joneson IV made sure to keep up his grandfather’s preaching through The Beat!.

Family, natural family as Joneson would put it, was an extremely important topic in The Beat! and one of the constant attacks Joneson made against his enemies was that they were trying to destroy the family. Dave’s boss had no children that he knew of, and the man never brought up his own parents, but Dave knew that was part of the man’s success. Knowledge is a barrier to true passion.

Dave had grown up listening to Joneson, or at least his AI assisted voice, and had recognized his power early on. He enthralled people.

It didn’t matter if people loved or hated him, they would tune in to listen to whatever insanity he spewed.

His opinions were so bombastic, his views so asinine, his cadence so without rhythm or reason, he was fascinating. 

Joneson- through the waves of The Beat!- had the distinction of having one of the few distinct synth voices. Anyone broadcasting over the networks had to pick a synth voice to speak through, to ensure quality and clarity over both networks. Most voices were generated using dozens of people’s sounds collected anonymously from the great cloud of unending noise.

S.S. Joneson IV had gotten his own voice to use, modulated only slightly to nullify the sounds of his wheezing, coughing, choking, spluttering, stuttering, slurring, and swearing, from disrupting his tirades.

Maybe Joneson’s mannerisms were refreshing- the rest of the synth voices they heard were so forcibly cheerful, often with strange tone inflection and emphasis.

Sometimes people would use that fact to comedic advantage, often deliberately using anachronistic voices and speech patterns to strip all seriousness or sense from everything said. Just because it was funny.

Maybe Joneson was funny too.

People prefer novelty to honesty, surprise over stability, fantasy over reality.

The way to get ahead in this world was to find what people wanted and convince them that it was right around the corner.

Or even better, convince them that whatever it was they already had could be taken away from them by some nefarious something, someone, or whatever.

This was all Joneson’s fault. And Synamon and Dr. Smith.

Joneson’s paranoia about Total, Dr. Smith, the big update- all of it was so stupid and now he had nothing- less than nothing.

But Dave knew that even when he had nothing, he still had more than enough to get what he wanted so long as he had the contents of his own head.

So what if he couldn’t bring Joneson the info- who cared about information anyway? The story was the point.

And Dave knew how to tell a story.

Something the old man wouldn’t see coming- and he could throw that scad of a woman under the bus at the same time.

 Joneson’s was as predictable as he was chaotic, and Dave knew how to fold the man like a sheet into any shape he wanted.

The task was unsavory, and dealing the man made Dave feel sick for cycles afterwards, but this was a desperate situation. 

Dave began to drag himself towards the hub of the surface sector, seething silently as he schemed.

Synamon. He’d splurge himself in her suffering. He’d drag it out, use her for all her worth as a media object- then when he’d squeezed her dry, he’d make her his pet project for a smear campaign to rival all others.

 Honestly, it was probably a kindness to her to make sure she never disrupted another man’s business again, one cycle she might incur the wrath of someone less considerate than Dave and end up getting herself killed.

Dave smiled to himself, almost skipping as he crossed the bridge leading into the hub.

It’d be trivially easy to swipe his boss’ TD until he could get a new one.

Ever the optimist, Dave went forth

[brokenmenswhore]

can I request a jace x reader? rhanerya sends her kids away (s3e3) and baela is off worried about king’s landing so he’s lonely and misses his family and it’s just super pure and fluffy?

if all else burns | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacearys valeryon x reader

warnings: s2e3 spoilers!

a/n: sometimes i feel like i’m fighting for my life with the spelling of some of these names that have either ‘ae’ or ‘ea’ in the middle. a lil short i hope that’s ok!

────── ☾ ──────

Jacearys did everything he could to hold his head up high at all times, but each day weighed him down more and more. He still grieved his little brother, his betrothed was off on her dragon keeping an eye on King’s Landing, and now his mother was sending the last of his younger siblings away for their safety.

He was proud to stick around, happy he was needed, but being professional at all times was getting difficult.

He hugged his younger brothers, squeezing them one last time before they were sent off with Rhaena.

He attended his mother’s council meetings, standing tall and keeping his mouth shut. He held his head up high and supported his mother.

You and Jace had been friends since childhood, always leaning on one another when things got hard. Your family had sworn allegiance to Aegon II, so you had fled to Dragonstone in support of Rhaenyra and her family. You couldn’t imagine what Jace was going through, his entire family at war, and no matter what he did, he just kept having to say goodbye to someone.

“Jace?” you whispered, slowly pushing open the door to the room he was sat in, elbows on his knees as he watched the fireplace.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, “everything ok?”

You walked closer to him, taking the seat next to him. “I actually came to ask you the same thing.”

You watched Jace, the fire contouring his face differently each time the flames moved. “I miss Luke,” he spoke.

You reached out a hand, placing it atop one of his. “I know.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, watching the fire dance before he finally spoke again. “Everyone keeps leaving. I fear it’ll only get harder with the war.”

You stood at this, moving in front of him and kneeling before him. His eyes met yours in a moment of vulnerability.

“I won’t leave, Jace. I’m right here.”

He smiled at you, pressing his forehead against yours and taking a deep breath. You continued, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not sure what I would do without you.”

You smiled warmly, “good thing for you that you’ll never have to find out.”

You leaned up and hugged him, allowing him to take a deep, relaxing breath while his chin rested on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to fight this war,” he admitted, “I just want it all to stop. If the Greens would just give my mother her throne, we could move on from all of this- this hatred.”

You pulled out of the hug, placing your hands on either side of Jace’s face.

“I wish for the same,” you replied, “but until then, you are strong, and you will persist.”

“I’m so tired of being strong.” His voice broke, tears threatening to spill.

“So be weak with me.”

Jace smiled as you pulled him into another hug, allowing him to cry for a bit in your arms, using your presence as an outlet for the emotions he never let out. You knelt there for several minutes, not daring to move, just allowing him to get it all out.

When his breathing calmed down, he pulled back a bit and pressed his forehead to yours again.

“I don’t know what to do,” he began to ramble, “I don’t know how to keep everyone safe. I’m supposed to lean on Baela, but she’s been so occupied surveying King’s Landing that she’s rarely ever here. My mother grieved, and now needs to be pragmatic, rather than let her grief consume her, but how do you not let this grief consume you? Until my grandsire died, everything was so simple. The only squabbles were between Luke and Aemond. I don’t know how everything got so complicated. I miss the peace.”

You felt bad for him. You empathized with him; he was in such a complicated position, and you could tell he felt like his family was shrinking with the war, making his responsibilities even more important. His mask of strength was fading. You were the only outlet he had.

“You mean everything to me, Jace,” you spoke, “if all else fails, if all else burns, we’ll always have one another.”

Jace smiled. “If all else burns, we’ll always have one another.”

[aikoiya]

Gerudo Language 3.5 - Verbs

Here is the Gerudo alphabet:

And this is what I think the Gerudo's numerical system would look like based on the above alphabet & my personal headcanons.

—

I am basing this all off of both official Nintendo approved words, a bunch of other people's ideas, as well as a mix of Egyptian, Middle Eastern, Sanskrit, & Hindu words & random shit that I pull from betwinxt my booty-cheeks. So, be warned.

For the rest of my Gerudo Language Series, go here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.5, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, & Part 7.

Words with a * at the front indicate that I'm not the one who thought it up. Basically, a disclaimer.

A lot of them are likely from Va Ehenihv's site, so if anyone from there comes across this & wishes for me to remove some things from here, I am more than willing to discuss.

—

Pronunciation & Diacritics:

When ' (called a 'Khàmza) is both proceeded & followed by a consonant, the 'uh' sound is added in between when spoken, but when it's proceeded or followed by at least 1 vowel, it isn't. Unless, it's proceeded by an 'H' that, itself, is proceeded by a vowel. Then, the 'H' is also treated as a vowel. Or when the consonants on both sides are the same. In which case, the 'uh' is not pronounced. Eg. Sol'let is pronounced like 'solet.'

'J' either sounds like 'y' or like 'zh'/'jh' depending on the letter before it. 'Zh' or 'jh' as in 'zhuzh it up' or 'give it some jhoojh,' so sort of a buzzing or engine-revving sound. If the proceeding letter is a vowel or a vowel & an 'h,' it sounds like an 'h,' but if it is a consonant or the start of a word, it sounds like 'zh'/'jh.' In the case of being proceeded by a 'd,' the 'd' is silent, but the 'j' still behaves as if proceeded by a consonant. However, if the 'j' is proceeded by ', then it automatically makes the 'jh' sound.

Rr is pronounced like the rolling Spanish "rr."

X is pronounced either like "sh" or "zh" depending on the situation. Except for when it's proceeded by an "h" or ', at which point, it comes out sounding like "sk" or "shk."

A is pronounced like "uh."

Á is pronounced like "a," as in "bat." (When spelled in English phonetically, it's written "bæt" with a hard "a.")

À is pronounced like the "a" in "are."

Ā is pronounced like "ay," as in "day."

E is pronounced with the short "e" sound.

È makes the "eh" sound.

É makes the "ey" sound.

Ē makes the long "e" sound.

I makes the short "i" sound, like the "ick" in "sick."

Ï makes the long "e" sound, same as "ē."

Ī makes the "eye" sound.

O sounds like the short "o" sound, as in "on," "off," or "long."

Ó sounds like "oo," but shorter.

Ō sounds like the "o" in "home."

Ô sounds like "aw" or "ow."

U sounds like "uh," same as "a." Also sounds like the "i" in "third" or the "ea" in "earn" depending on how it's used.

Û sounds like "oo," but longer.

Ù sounds like the "oo" in "pool."

Ú sounds like the "oo" in "book."

Ae sounds like "hah" with a lot of breath in the "h"s.

And this is how I think the diacritics would be spelled.

Ā, É, & Ī all have 2 ways to write them, the 1st of each listed being considered formal & proper, while the 2nd listed are consider informal & casual.

I've also made a few digraphic characters.

---

Also, if you happen to see repeat words, like same Gerudo word used multiple times for vastly different things, I'd very much appreciate a heads up.

Grammar:

Names do not have ' in them as a rule.

-'ōt (Pronounced: -oht) = Very or so. Eg. Sàv'ōt means "very good" or "so good." Sàv'ōt being used as praise or to complement cooking or in other, more intimate situations.

-'té (Pronounced: -tey) = -th, -rd, -nd; a specified number in a numbered sequence. Eg. Uàf'té (Pronounced: oo-ahf-uh-tey) means 8th. The letters are regularly smaller than the number & are arranged one on top of the other in a column.

-'è = Suffix indicating "of." To be placed at the end of what is possessing. Eg. Goddess of the Sand would be Geru'è Vallah.

-'jï (Pronounced: -jhee or -zhee)= Possessive suffix. So, if something belongs to Aaqlet, then it's Aaqlet'jï. Much like with -'té, the 'j' & 'ï' are also smaller than the rest & stacked on top of each other in a column.

-éda = -ing. Suffix indicating that something is happening right now.

-'úl or úl (Pronounced: ool) = Indicating that something happened in the past. Past tense.

-en or -n = An indication of a word being plural. Both are technically correct, but 'en' is considered proper grammar. Some words already end in '-n' & when it isn't proceeded by an 'e,' you can just tack '-en' to the end. Making '-n' into '-nen.'

- -ae = Another way to indicate plurality. This is typically done when the word ends in '-a.'

Ih'- = A or an. Used as a prefix to a word.

Adï'- = Adoptive or surrogate. Used as a prefix.

Dōr'- = -less. To be without something.

-īs = -ful. To be full of something.

Kōli'- = Every-. Used as a prefix indicating all of something.

Muhs'- = Not or un-.

-ubé = -tion.

*Dulï'- = Any-. Used as a prefix in words such as anywhere, anything, anyone, ect.

- *Dulï'vomoq = Anyhow.

- Dulï'zī = Anyone.

- Dulï'mihd = Anywhen.

- *Dulï'fihk = Anywhere.

- *Dulï'fàyo = Anymore.

- *Dulï'xakè = Anybody.

- *Dulï'rekàna = Anything.

- *Dulï'tïto = Anytime.

-xē = An indication of something being more. Such as deeper, bigger, greater.

Wahl'- = And. Used as a prefix for the last item in a list.

Al'- = The. Traditionally has the ', but in situations where other prefixes are applied, the 2 prefixes are merged.

-qiz = Suffix used to mean “-en.” Like, awaken.

-ūn or -ám = -en or -an, but as in, a state of being something.

Lï'- = To. Used as a prefix to indicate an action, but only when "to" is necessary. Eg. Lï'kaa is "to do."

Yà- or -yà = Little or small. Used as either a prefix or suffix to indicate a diminutive. Often used in terms of endearment.

- Yàrï- or -yàrï = Tiny or teeny, but specifically in reference to the object of the speaker's attentions' cuteness as a side-effect of said smallness. Like, an ultra diminutive. Often used in terms of endearment as a suffix & is basically baby talk. - Vai will also often sing "yàrïyàrïyàrï~" at babies or puppies or kittens as a way to say how sweet & cute they are, thus being the equivalent to "coochi-coochi-coo," but what they're actually saying is "tiny-tiny-tiny." - Conveys great affection, but is strictly for platonic or parental use. Not normally for romantic use. Also often used to indicate an infant form of something, but in a baby-ish way. Eg. Gàtïyàrï for kitten. But it's used in a way so as to say, "Look at this little baby cat! Isn't it precious?!" So, not used as an official or scientific term.

-zī = One. Can be used as a suffix in addressments.

Và'- or Và- = A prefix referring to a female. Was once used to shorten long feminine terms, but is now used regularly.

Vo'- or Vō- = A prefix referring to a male. Was once used to shorten long masculine terms, but is now used regularly.

Ran or Dā- = Great, big, or glorious.

Fé or Nae = In. Also used as a prefix.

- Févūju or *Naevūju = Inside.

- Fé'lï or Nae'lï = Into.

Ta'- or Ta = Out.

- Ta'letraq = Outshine.

Vataa = Or.

- Taa or -taa = Or. Shorthand. Also used as a suffix at the end of items in a list of options.

Indicitive Prefixes:

*Nï’- = I (verb).

*So’- = You (verb).

*Fu’- = He (verb).

*Va’- = She (verb).

*Ween’- or Wēn’- = (Inclusive) We (verb).

*Neen’- or Nēn’- = (Exclusive) We (verb).

*Soen’- = Ya'll (verb).

*Foon’- or Fùn’- = (Masculine) They (verb).

*Vaan’- = (Feminine) They (verb).

*Shūn’- = (Masculine & Feminine; specifically in the plural sense, not for singular use) They (verb).

In modern days, when an indicative is followed by a verb, it can be used as a prefix for that verb.

Possessive Suffixes:

-nï = My.

-so = Your.

-fu = His.

-va = Her.

-ween = Our & your.

-neen = Our, not your.

-soen = Ya'll's.

-foon = Masculine their. This term has been nearly lost.

-vaan = Feminine their.

-shūn = Masculine & feminine their. Used to indicate that there are either both men & women or that the speaker isn't sure. For plural use only.

When not used to indicate possession, should be accompanied by a ‘. For instance, "bury me" would be Biru'nï. Otherwise, the word comes out more like "my bury," which makes very little sense.

Verbs:

When unaccompanied, verbs end with a "ù." The "to" at the beginning is generally just implied, but when the "to" is used in an actual sentence, the word starts with "Lï'-."

When "to be" words are actively used & require the "be," they start with the prefix "Zeq'-" or "Zo'-."

When both are required in the sentence, use "Lïzo'-."

When a verb requires “get,” it starts with the prefix “Tah’-.”

Zeqù = To be.

- Zù = To be. Shorthand.

- Zo = Be.

*Uayù = To have or own.

*Kaalù = To do.

Dù = To go.

*Yàkù = To carry.

Balù = To bring.

- al'Ântri’è Balïj = The Bringer of Demise.

Lhàrmsikù or Lhàrmkù = To hold.

- Lhàrmkah = Holder.

Sanhītù = To bear.

- Sanhītumù = To endure.

Litufūpàrù = To loom overhead.

Dôrù = To turn.

- Dôrnae'lù = To turn into.

- Dôrnae'lï = Turn into.

Zo'kodīqù = To be tight.

- Kodīqiz = Tighten.

Yajàbù = To wonder.

Tokhù = To open.

Haeduthù = To happen.

Jōshtànù = To sing.

- Jōshtàno = Sing.

- Jōshtia = Song.

Pàrasnù = To make.

Zo'kitabù = To be satisfied, satiated, or sated.

- Kitabae = Satisfy, satiate, or sate.

Zo'xànù = To be certain or sure.

*Qasù = To become.

Àmlōtù = To accept, agree with/to, or have a positive opinion.

- Àmlōta = Accept.

Īnshù = To will.

Yasheù = To feel.

*Xïhnù = To taste.

Hàvmaeù = To hear.

Pachūnù = To touch.

*Vur'nù = To see.

- Vur'hyaanù = To watch.

Nolù = To offer.

- Noli = Offer.

*Kàlù = To take.

Aktù = To give.

*Sāqsù = To live.

*Sorqù = To die.

Vashorqù = To destroy.

*Uàrù = To break.

- Uàrïr = Breaker.

*Situkolù = To dominate.

Gàtagù = To kill.

Uregàtù = To murder.

- Uregàta or Urego = Murder.

Gib'balù = To execute. Lit. “to bring death.”

Ghéshtànù = To conceive or create.

Nihayàntù = To end. To bring an ending. To close. To finish. To terminate. To bring terminatus.

Ântù = To end, conclude, finish, close, cease, doom, terminate, termitus, expire, expirate, evanish, surcease. Can be used to mean “to bring an end to something or someone in a dramatic fashion.”

Hālákù = To destroy, perdit, bane, end.

Vīlumaaptù or Vīluptqïràdù = To make extinct. Indicates something of a finality. To smother or snuff out.

- Vīlumaapti = Extinct. Indicates something of a finality. Smother or snuff out.

*Kàlehbù = To finish or complete.

Upyàzù = To visit.

Syātù = To pick/pluck.

Tàrāmbàstù or Tàrāmekù = To string something together. Ex. A necklace or words.

- Tàrābàsta or Tàrāmeka = String together.

Bīvtekù = To enchain. Lit. “to chain together.” Refers to the act of enchaining, or state of being enchained. As in, to chain or link together.

- Bīvteka = Enchain.

Sitaklàtù = To drape.

Tàzkrutù = To decorate.

Vistaarù = To expand.

Vistaar'ūpù = To expand upon; to explain.

- Vistaar'ūpàr = Expand upon.

Làgatù = To seem.

Hibù = To like. As in having a positive opinion of something.

- Nahibù = To dislike.

*Sahqaz'nù = To wish.

Tumainù = To hope.

Saarqù = To prepare.

- Saarqubé = Preparation.

*Būjù = To steal.

- *Màgbūjù = To steal (food).

- *Vībūjù = To steal (jewelry).

- *Rūbūjù = To steal (rupees).

- Chibūjù = To steal (a heart).

-- Chibūjhōr & Chibūja = A thief who steals hearts. Used to refer to heartbreakers, casanovas, lotharios, femme fatales, homme falates, ect. Regardless, it's used to mean someone who is charming, suave, but also dangerous. Though, mostly for your heart.

*Vaaqontù = To say/tell.

- *Sabottù = To speak/talk.

*Vaq'ribù = To laugh.

Rakàdù = To cry/weep.

Bokàdù = To weep/sob.

Huzkàdù = To grieve.

Yōjaytù = To connect.

Ehnyiqù = To tease.

Yukarsù = To flirt.

Judhaanù = To entice.

Qàblzù = To kiss.

Īmtù = To suck.

*Nonù = To hate.

- *Muhslàrnonù = To hold a grudge. Literally, "long hate."

*Màtù = To love (romantically).

- Màtu or Màt = Love.

- Zo'màtù = To be in love.

Tah'màtu'kàvtù or Tah'màt'kàvtù= To get married.

- Zo'màtu'kāvtù or Zo'màt'kāvtù = To be married.

Shàqù = To adore. Implies passionate affection & emotional investment. Can be used romantically. But when used alone, can also just express something you are legitimately passionate about. Regardless, It is associated with very deep & overwhelming feelings of affection. The use of Shàq always indicates a level of emotional investment & showcases an intensity that is endemic of deep-seated affections. When using it in reference to a hobby or passion, it displays strong commitment & enthusiasm. For instance, saying “Nï’shàq jōshtànéda” suggests that singing isn't just something you do casually, but rather something they consider to be a big part of their life. - I got the idea from the Arabic terms, Ana a'shaquka & Ana a'shaquki.

- Màtushàqù or Màt'shàqù = To love passionately.

- Zo'màtushàqù = To be deeply in love.

*Qabù = To want.

*Ehnù = To need.

- *Ehna = Need.

Āmàlù = To love (platonically or familially) or to care.

- Āmàl or Màl = Love (platonically or familially) or to care.

Hōmútakù = To lust for.

Nonmútakù or Tūs’mútakù = To find abherotic. To lust after someone you hate. Implicates a desire to dominate. Heavily associated with the idea of conquest. Psychosexualism.

Tūsatù = To dominate.

Fïtaanù = To enthrall. As in, to fascinate, mesmerize, seduce, echant, or bewitch.

- Mohdaasù = To thrall or enslave. As in enthrall; take captive. The state of being under the control of another person. Can be used to refer to one who is enslaved. Can also be used to refer to one under mind control.

Vákhya’tù = To imprime. Meaning to drive one's prey from their shelter.

- Vákhya'ta = Imprime. Lit. “to drive out.”

Yinaetárù = To enchase. 1) To set something into something, such as a gemstone. 2) To decorate with jewels or with inlaid ornaments. 3) To cut or carve, as with a weapon.

Bàzimayù = To scourse. Meaning to barter or exchange.

*Saadï'qù = To dance.

- Saadïna'qù = To dance passionately.

- Dïna'qù = To dance passionately. Shorthand.

- Judhaadïna = A passionate & fiery dance of enticement. Meant to attract a match by drawing a target into dancing with. Though, the more forward dancer may even simply sweep the individual that they're interested in into it.

*Vuqu'ambù = To walk.

*Uayù = To have or own.

*Vīqaanù = To know.

- Vīnù = To know. Shorthand.

*Strunù = To sell.

*Zo'rijù = To be sorry.

- *Rijō = Sorry.

Yàsanonsorqù = To forgive. Literally, “to let hate die.”

Letráqù = To shine.

Yasmàù = To allow.

- Yasmà'nï = Allow me.

Yàsaù = To let.

Kàrakù = To crank.

*Pàrmàgstù = To cook.

- *Brukākù = To bake.

- *Vlihngsù = To whip (as in cooking).

- Lobmàgù = To fry.

- Maezù = To mix/stir/combine.

- Shifamàgù = To grill.

- Tahnù = To grind.

- Fàzù = To beat (as in an egg).

- Sarù = To grate.

- Mahklù = To sift or separate.

- Sharù = To slice.

- Sharï = Slice.

- Qaxàrù = To peel.

Taqhànù = To distill.

*Pungù = To poison.

Makalù = To eat or consume.

*Hïhxù = To hunger.

- Zo'hïhxï = To be hungry.

- *Hïhxï = Hungry.

Màvātù = To feast.

Lràbù = To drink.

*Sekàjù = To thirst.

Zo'plexù = To be full.

- Plexō = Full.

Plixù = To fill.

*Laemedù = To swallow.

- *Laemedo = Swallow.

- Sāflaemedïr = Sword-swallower. An entertainer able to swallow swords. Alternatively, also used to refer to one who is especially skilled with swallowing “swords.”

Balù = To bring.

Zo’nerxù = To be wise.

Takàthurù = To breed.

Nàkahù = To fuck.

Vamàtù = To make love.

*Fāntù = To raise or rear (as in a child).

- *Fānta = Raise or rear.

Qûtù = To fall.

Birù = To bury.

Tumainù = To hope.

Yahdurù = To attend.

*Sàreqù = To praise; be thankful.

Fàsïhù = To divide or separate.

- Manfàsï = Division or separation.

*Uàrù = To break.

- Uàrïr = Breaker.

*Situkolù = To dominate.

*Zo'hehferù = To be afraid.

Zo'pashārù = To be wary.

Sàv'pashārù = To beware. Literally, “to have good wariness.”

Nerx'pashārù or Nérpashārù = To beware. Literally, “to have wise wariness.”

Zo'pashù = To be aware.

*Zo'jajànù = To be angry.

Zo’kātitù = To be bitter.

*Saktàrù = To abandon.

*Yusabù = To abuse.

*Otdanù = To accuse.

*Vemehnù = To adhere.

*Ehstejàmù = To anticipate.

Xipù = To argue.

Kalrànù = To arrest.

*Bràntù = To advise.

*Lōmatù = To answer.

*Qorù = To ask.

*Zo'muhsqorosù = To be loyal. Literally, "to be unquestioning."

Vinyàchù = To beg. Lit. “to humbly beseech.”

- Vinyasmù = To pray. Lit. “to humbly request.”

*Jkàrù = To assist or help.

- *Jkàdalù = To save or rescue.

- *Jkàdalï = Save or rescue.

Yarràktù = To protect.

*Sulpinù = To attack.

*Jomedù = To choke.

Vinyù = To humble.

*Dīstù = To bathe.

*Kàlehbù = To finish or complete.

*Vlïngsù = To whip (as in attacking or flogging).

*Pehmehstù = To hunt.

Yàzrupù = To plant (something in the ground).

*Īhtïhlàgù = To respect.

*Kàvtù = To bind.

- *Zo'kāvtù = To be bound.

Surrù = To pleasure.

Isûlfetù = To do or commit evil.

Yunqù = To infuse.

- Yunqae = Infuse.

- Yunqaerib = Infusion.

Zo'aembù = To be just.

- Aemba = Justice.

Xulù = To sew.

- Xularàzù = To embroider.

Kilù = To knot or tie.

- Ih'kilu = A knot.

Yànlinasù, Nūsjù, or Būntù = To weave.

- Būnti = Weave.

Koyusa = Style.

- Uay'koyusù = To have style.

- Zo'koyusù = To be stylish.

Yuelù = To declare.

Ïdeaù = To claim.

Shàrikù = To partake.

Làgù = To sleep.

Spànù = To dream.

Umehù = To wake.

Ledpù = To tire.

Bàrumù = To weary.

- Dunlàm = The world.

- Bàrulàm = World-weary; melancholy.

- Sâdad = A solemn & melancholic feeling of longing.

Nàhadù = To rise.

Laashàmù or Shàmomù = To wax (as in the moon).

- Shàmoma = Wax.

Laawàltù or Wàltadù = To wane (as in the moon).

- Wàltada = Wane.

Zo'mithù = To be with.

LoZ Cultural Masterlist 2

[kata4a]

so if you have some group G, there's a fairly straightforward argument that every product is unique, i.e., there is no a, x and y such that x ≠ y y but ax = ay

(because, assume there are. then:

x = (a⁻¹a)x = a⁻¹(ax) = a⁻¹(ay) = (a⁻¹a)y = y

but x ≠ y by assumption)

now this proof obviously relies on the associative property of groups. but does it need such a property? well, yes, because consider the finite group G = {e, a, b} with the following multiplication table:

ee = e; ea = a; eb = b; ae = a; aa = e; ab = b; be = b; ba = b; bb = e;

by inspection, we can see that the operation is closed, that there is exactly one identity, e, and that every element has a unique inverse (itself). every group axiom except associativity holds, and indeed, we see that every product is not unique: eb = ab = b, despite e ≠ a

in other words, a loop is guaranteed to have unique products if it is associative, which further implies that if you can find two products ax = ay then the operation must not be associative

but can we prove this more directly?

as it turns out, yes! in fact the algebraic manipulations are quite similar to the proof at the beginning of this post. first, let there be a, x, y such that x ≠ y but ax = ay

then,

a⁻¹(ax) = a⁻¹(ay) (a⁻¹a)x ≠ (a⁻¹a)y

therefore, if a⁻¹(ax) = (a⁻¹a)x then a⁻¹(ay) ≠ (a⁻¹a)y, and vice versa—either way we've found some a, b and c such that a(bc) ≠ (ab)c

so, the natural next question to me is, if you have a non-associative loop, can you always find some a, x and y such that x ≠ y y but ax = ay? I think this is equivalent to asking: is every multiplication table where no element appears twice in the same row or column associative? and I'm pretty sure the answer to that is yes but it would be really cool to have a constructive proof where you go from a(bc) ≠ (ab)c to gx = gy

[bronzebtch]

the lady of runestone does not cower.

she has seen the rogue prince once as nothing more than a six-and-ten year old boy, furious at his grandmother's insistence, but having had to kneel anyways when they were wed by the sept; the queen looming heavy behind them, so proper but she casts a mighty shadow. years have gone by since, the last memory of him she had was a nine-and-ten year old prince, who had pulled her aside after her grandmother's pyre, and told her that he will not be returning to the vale.

and return to the vale, he did not. which served just as well; he wasn't helpful to her court, and she in turn bore no affection to have missed what's left of him when he was gone. upon the news of their marriage having annulled, rhea could've wept with relief. and now here they are, years later, so far grown, yet the intensity of their dislike remains just as it were when they first met. rhea cannot help but tip her chin up as if in challenge, but the queen gives her shake, and the prince relents.

the queen ... rhea pretends that, underneath the armour across her dress, she does not ache at the memory. for this red keep has served her with no good remembrance, and yet the warmth of aemma arryn glimmers each time rhea closes her eyes. queen rhaenyra does not have that warmth, not necessarily, but she has the upturn nose of queen aemma and her brows. that is enough.

❝  your grace,  ❞ rhea bows, as is the custom. ❝  i'm afraid our party from runestone will have to depart soon. i congratulate you on your coronation, my queen.  ❞

rhaenyra had grown up at the keep, spent the majority of her life here and yet the place had never felt more unfamiliar and hostile to her than now. she had reclaimed her birth right and ascended the throne as the rightful ruler of the seven kingdoms, but at what cost? three of her sons were dead, she had lost her only daughter and her father in less than a year, her husband had taken a lover and everything was falling apart. yet she had to pretend like she was not broken and dying inside every day. her claim to the throne had grown weak, her support even weaker. rhaenyra had become who she never wanted to be, a queen of ice and fire and blood. luke's murder had been the beginning of her downfall and if she was being honest, her life had ended then and there. all she did after, was to protect the children she had left, because she knew that the greens would not stop hunting each one of them down. yet here she was, with only two of her boys left and gaping holes in her heart where the other three used to be.

the lords and ladies of the most important houses had been ordered to the capital to renew their oaths to her and had bent the knee to their new queen. that included her husband's first wife as head of house royce. her mother had been from the vale and beloved by her people, so all the houses there had been very willing to support rhaenyra, surprisingly even house royce. now that the official part was over, a feast was held for her guests, even though rhaenyra was not in the mood for festivities. her eyes were glued on aegon and joffrey the entire time, noting their every step to ensure that they would not be harmed by anyone invited. she had guards solely watching the two boys and even though she knew that, rhaenyra was tense and paranoid the whole evening. that did not change when lady royce approached her table and daemon immediately rose to block her way, but rhaenyra only gave a barely visible shake of the head. so instead, daemon silently pushed past her to join a group of council members, while the queen was left alone with rhea. "lady royce", she greeted with a nod of her head.

@bronzebtch gets a plotted starter

[bruuberrycc]

os conteúdos personalizados mais FOFOS para CRIANÇAS no the sims 4 (maxis match)

✨ link do vídeo: https://youtu.be/EI8_r93w1Xc

cabelos:

https://www.tumblr.com/chewybutterfly/735251181381746688/simstrouble-hair-conversions

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/705219852160434176/kids-hair-dump-42-conversions-folder

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/712380821389148160/kids-hair-dump-43-conversions-folder

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/712464216090689536/kids-hair-dump-44-conversions-folder

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/715578800104161280/kids-hair-dump-45-conversions-folder

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/724070008211341312/kids-hair-dump-46-conversions-folder

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/724117066163126272/kids-hair-dump-46-conversions-folder

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/731877245416767488/kids-hair-dump-48-conversions-folder

https://sunivaa.tumblr.com/post/716793535018434560/download-15-ea-swatches-basegame

https://www.patreon.com/posts/kids-hair-pack-7-82717737

https://www.patreon.com/posts/75575978

https://sunivaa.tumblr.com/post/711079211728781312/download-15-ea-swatches-basegame

https://www.patreon.com/posts/75575978

roupas:

https://www.patreon.com/posts/84573434

https://www.patreon.com/posts/cozy-weather-74628834

https://simiracle.tumblr.com/post/637654855205470208/luna-cardigan-kids-version-adult-version-not (precisa ser usado com uma blusa acc, por exemplo, essa https://deetronsims.blogspot.com/2018/02/turtlenec-cessory.html#more ou https://www.patreon.com/posts/48317811)

https://www.patreon.com/posts/bubblegum-mini-1-84231534

https://www.patreon.com/posts/sole-swimwear-67644893

https://simiracle.tumblr.com/post/641561390188003328/shorts-separated-kids-version-%F0%9D%97%A3%F0%9D%97%AE%F0%9D%97%BF%F0%9D%97%AE%F0%9D%97%BB%F0%9D%97%BC%F0%9D%97%BF%F0%9D%97%BA%F0%9D%97%AE%F0%9D%97%B9-%F0%9D%97%B6%F0%9D%98%80

https://simiracle.tumblr.com/post/639297319524810752/clumsyalien-nadine-kids-version-adult-version

https://simiracle.tumblr.com/post/636233267356598272/clumsyalien-brooke-sweater-kids-version-adult

https://simiracle.tumblr.com/post/635144242199773184/baggy-pants-kids-version-%F0%9D%97%A6%F0%9D%97%BB%F0%9D%97%BC%F0%9D%98%84%F0%9D%98%86-%F0%9D%97%98%F0%9D%98%80%F0%9D%97%B0%F0%9D%97%AE%F0%9D%97%BD%F0%9D%97%B2-%F0%9D%97%B6%F0%9D%98%80

https://simiracle.tumblr.com/post/675108922636500992/clumsyalien-keitha-kids-version-adult-version

https://www.patreon.com/posts/79224366

https://powluna.com/my-cc/corduroy-skirt/

https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/create-a-sim/carly-kids-top

https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/create-a-sim/irina-kids-outfit

https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/create-a-sim/galina-kids-pants

https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/create-a-sim/rosalina-kids-top

https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/create-a-sim/cozy-weather-kids-collection

https://demondare-sims.tumblr.com/post/697119174982582272/rowan-jumper-for-children-download-simfileshare

https://www.curseforge.com/sims4/create-a-sim/cozy-weather-kids-collection

calçados:

https://www.patreon.com/posts/tus-lus-slippers-89411436

https://www.patreon.com/posts/starla-boots-75685378

https://www.patreon.com/posts/aryana-tia-child-68940926

https://www.patreon.com/posts/89411436?pr=true

https://www.patreon.com/posts/gritedge-84815754

acessórios:

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/705303914888790016/eyepatches-conversions-folder

https://www.thesimsresource.com/members/Mydarling20/downloads/details/category/sims4-accessories-male/title/raccoon-bag-child/id/1670451/

https://cerberus-cc.tumblr.com/post/723994499214442496/earmuffs-dump-conversions-folder

[xenonmoon]

The Contendings of Horus and Set (and homosexuality in Ancient Egypt)

(The image is the Chester Beatty Papyrus I, written in hieratic, containing the mentioned story)

In my last post I (affectionately) called Set "the Gay Uncle of the Egyptian Pantheon" and promised to elaborate more on it in another post.

(CW: sexuality talk, bits of violence and- lettuce. No strong language)

First, a "little" foreword on homosexuality in Ancient Egypt: this is a very complicated subject as I gathered since, well- we don't know very much about it. The few accounts that survived are either disputed or offer little information on the general attitude towards same-sex relationship outside the single case.

It's also difficult to talk about heterosexuality, homosexuality and bisexuality in ancient times at all since the way we know them is a relatively modern concept (the word homosexuality is first attested in 1868 on a letter to Karl Heinrich Ulrichs by Karl-Maria Kertbeny) and before christianity became mainstream the biggest concerns were at best pointed towards the practices (mostly, Taking It™).

For everything else, relationships were just relationships.

The best known example of a same-sex couple were these guys, since it's likely the earliest recorded in history:

They're Khnumhotep (ẖnm.w-ḥtp(.w)) and Niankhkhnum (nj-ꜥnḫ-ẖnm.w), two royal servants and confidants who had the prestigious task to be the king's head manicurists. In their mastaba tomb in Saqqara are depicted in poses traditionally reserved for couples - like holding hands, embracing and kissing.

However, both of them had wives (Khenut and Khentikawes) and 6 children each.

Ancient Egyptians were very passionate about fertility - which is understandable considering how easily people could die any day for any reason back then. The more children you had and the more the chances that at least one of them survived to adulthood and could carry on jobs and duties.

So as long as you were a (re)productive member of society, it wasn't a big deal that you enjoyed / preferred the company of an individual of your same sex.

The big deal was, as I mentioned, Taking It™ for two main reasons:

Power dynamics. Assuming an active role during the intercourse meant at the same time asserting your dominance and/or humiliating the person on the receiving end of it

Something that I understood as "guy takes up the role of a woman during the intercourse but with none of her reproductive power" which considering how massively important being fertile was to them... well. Makes it a practice as sterile as the desert

And guess who was the god of deserts? our guy Set

(and also storm, disorder and violence to be precise)

His name was written either stš, swtḫ, swtj or stẖ depending on the time period (the Greeks just went with Seth)

He also loved eating this particular vegetable a normal amount (keep it in mind, we'll need that later):

Set was one of the children of Geb (the god of the Earth) and Nut (goddess of the sky) along with Osiris, Isis and Nephthys - who he was married to.

Osiris was king at the time and upheld the rule of ma'at (ideal natural order, fundamental concept of AE culture) along with Isis, his wife-sister.

At some point Set murdered Osiris, tore his body into pieces and scattered them all around Egypt. Reasons for this act may have been:

Osiris kicked him

Osiris had an affair with Nephthys

Isis and Nephthys in the form of either a falcon or a kite searched for all pieces and with the help of Anubis put them all together in what is considered the first mummy in Egyptian tradition. Isis uses her wings to briefly fan new life in Osiris' body and the two conceive a child, Horus.

Osiris' resurrection was not permanent and after his time was out he became ruler of the Duat (the realm of the dead), while Isis raises Horus in secret until he was old enough to come back to challenge Set for his throne.

The dispute took the form of a series of competitions (like racing with boats or fighting each other in the form of hippopotami) and legal judgement before the assembled council of gods, the Ennead.

During one of the competitions Isis tried to help her son while he was locked in combat with Set but accidentally spears Horus - he got FURIOUS and beheaded his mother. Then tried to fix it by sticking on the body a head of a cow. No one will ever notice, amright? (This gives the mythological origin of the cow horn headdress Isis sometimes is depicted wearing)

Horus repeatedly defeats Set in the various competitions and is largely favoured by the the other gods, but the head of the Ennead was Geb and Geb liked Set so they were stuck in this limbo situation of tie for years.

and then - brace yourself. Now it comes the key moment of this story.

Set and Horus have sex.

I'm serious

The details of this obviously varied from account to account (as most of myths in Ancient Egypt, it was almost expected to have different variations of it depending on the time period and place)

According to one account, it was deliberately only to humiliate him

According to another, he genuinely wanted to bang his nephew other than the act of dominance / humiliation thing, he didn't take no as an answer and got him drunk

According to another one again it was consensual, Horus agreed on condition that Set would've given him part of his strength (my fave)

But Horus was a smart birb and he either caught Set's seed with his hands (don't ask me how) or removed it in secret, so to make Set believe the act was successful. Horus tells his mom about what happened and the morning after they plan something.

Horus wanks on some lettuce and Isis serves it to a clueless Set.

Who eats it all.

The next time the Ennead were called to judgement, Set mentions having laid with Horus as a mean to demonstrate he has asserted his dominance over him so he had the right to claim the throne for himself. Horus disagrees. Geb verifies who of the two had the other's seed in his body and-

Set did.

Horus thus won the dispute

They eventually reconcile with each other and shared the lands to rule (which might have been fertile lands of the Nile to Horus and foreign deserts to Set, or one had the land and the other the sky, or the two traditional halves of the country). With this reconciliation, the dualities they represent are also reconciled into a united whole restoring order after the conflict.

(according to other accounts Geb played the bitch and gave sole reign to Horus, to other much later when Egypt was a bit in a bad place Set was utterly defeated, exiled and/or destroyed)

Funny thing is that Set actually got pregnant from the tainted lettuce and gave birth to either:

A golden disk on his forehead

Thot

Thot's moon disk (in versions where Thot is present during the dispute)

Well ancient Egyptian mythology sure is something huh