#Chirography

[harf-e-kun]

𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒 (𝙰𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚌 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚢) ✅ 🕊️

[saidokins]

Detalle de la instalación ‘Quirografías’ 2023. Oaxaca. Tinta sobre papel sobre madera Haz tu cita para ver la exposición completa en @nodoespaciovisual Matamoros 402, Centro, Oaxaca Hasta el 11 de Abril. #saidokins #installationart #artinstallation #calligraphy #escritura #writing #quirografia #quirografias #chirography #art #oaxaca #artoaxaca #mexicanart (en Oaxaca, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqDd2uau0Zk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[jim-dandy1]

This was written out of imagination

BROKEN BOND💔 composed by @jim-dandy1

[binomech]

in which @medusaesque and I ponder the Kim skill tree (under the cut because it's long, as usual) ft. en dehors (a psyche skill from her latest comic)

medusaesque: i was really proud of en dehors.. human interaction is a complicated dance but if you listen to the music learn the chirography and practice your moves MAYBE you can reach out and dance

binomech: yes yes yes

binomech: ponders. god i didn't realize you meant the ballet meaning

binomech: i don't know if you care about what my brain thought en dehors was mentioning but i concocted a whole string of bullshit as the philosopher in me is wont to do

medusaesque: do tell 👀

binomech: so en dehors is a legal term in french as well as many other things but. it's the term that is used to separate criminal charges for military officials -- the punishment is different whether the crime was comitted in the line of duty or as a civilian (en dehors de l'armée). it's also a concept in contemporary queer theory in francophone circles that lines with the theory of marginality which tl;dr is an utopian proposal talking about whether or not it is possible to live a full life in the margins of society and when does a margin stop being a margin. marginal both as in a footnote in a book margin and as an oppressed group of people. en dehors is a way to describe emotional detachment. en dehors is synonym with en coulisses, is what happens in the backstage, the dirty unrewarding work that no one ever will see unless they look for it. an exogamous marriage -- an union that happens outside of the socially expected bounds of the group, is also called mariage en dehors. the marriage that isn't approved by the church is also a mariage en dehors. en dehors, paumé, a vagabond who can't find a place that will take him in.

binomech: anyway.

binomech: it literally did not occur to me to think about the classical dance thing i was like Lost In The Sauce

medusaesque: WOW i knew the queer theory thing its part of why i chose it for kim (and of why i even know a classical ballet term lmao) but i did Not know the legal term! thats fascinating

medusaesque: goddamn

medusaesque: you made my thing much cooler

medusaesque: i just thought of kim living in the margins and the way he might approach venturing out of them and reaching out- calculated and measured but passionate like dance

binomech: it's very GOOD

binomech: i'm like wow... this reading... is so flavorful!!!

binomech: my approach was so devoid of warmth and i like that... idk how do i put this

binomech: en dehors position in ballet is precarious and precise much like kim's demeanor towards his existing is precarious and precise but like you said it is rewarded with the potential of a group dance

binomech: his composure and poise being the only chance to be part of the in-group

binomech: and also of course the marginality of a queer racialized experience at large but specifically the exhilarating bravery of dipping your toes into the main text

medusaesque: yeah!! thats how he literally dances but also how he navigates any other social situation

medusaesque: i imagine every time he puts his hand on harrys back or shoulder its an en dehors check

medusaesque: not too light, not too tight, definitely not too gay

binomech: man every time i think about this i'm like fully cognizant of my biases because i am white and i know race is crucial to kim's embodiment and exitence but all i can do is washed out analyses based on secondhand recountings of friends and theorists. so i focus way too much on queerness and disability

binomech: like the disability in text is so fucking blatant to me but it's like 3 lines so it could be easily dismissed and i'm scared of getting fanon-brained about it

binomech: so when conceptualizing skills i'm like. am i being true to canon kim. what would canon kim do bracelet

medusaesque: nah it's defiantly there

medusaesque: the disability i mean

binomech: like... yes he has a 7/10 shooting score (unbelievable that this is High to people) and he can drive and he can do fucking crosswords but I just... i think a lot about my own experiences and about how people normally conceputalize the spectrum of blindness and i pick a comically large hammer and squash the world

medusaesque: well first of all its really meaningful to find that kind of connection in fiction even if you arent 100% accurate to the source material and secondly kim canonically has really bad eyesight and it affects his relationship to vulnerability and lack of agency

medusaesque: so id say ur good

medusaesque: like dealing with being thought of an a spy, with fetishization, with the whole model minority thing..

binomech: yeah!!!

binomech: anyway yeah disclaimer of the bias that permeates these takes

binomech: a lot of people with visual impairments (moderate, severe or total sight loss) share this experience of the internal and external existence of the body being severed

binomech: something that i have experienced a lot, for example, is people telling me my face is overly expressive. something that a friend of mine who is fully blind since birth gets told a lot, is how stony faced she is.

binomech: they both have the same source: i struggle enough to see facial expressions on other people, to match them with a topic or tone of voice, as she does as well obviously. for me that has resulted in making my face move in what i can sort of glimpse from the motions and shapes of other's faces, to my friend it has resulted in her having been told how to move her face into smiles and frowns and gestures that are a mask to her and that do not come naturally

binomech: it's an act for the benefit of others and it's calculated

binomech: it's a very jarring feeling, to become aware of just how big the space between how you exist in the world and how others see you exist in the world is

binomech: and i think this is true for kim for disability reasons and for asian guy in a predominantly white environment reasons

binomech: and the moment you understand this gap is very traumatic

binomech: i think about kim's expressions being described as unreadable, subtle, sometimes not entirely matching his tone and i think about his face being the mask of composure to harry

binomech: there's also the precision that permeates all of his being: the orderly environments, the tailored clothes, even the color choices of his belongings

binomech: clutter is a hazard for bvi people on a practical level. having control over your appearance is a way to increase your chances at respect. all the important things must stand out because you Cannot lose them.

binomech: a bright orange jacket, a blue car and notebook, halogen square reflections to remind you who is safe and who isn't, who is a pothole and who is a tree shade

binomech: also if it is indeed severe hyperopia that he has, it does get worse with age

binomech: i suspect it's something more on top of that; i am nearsighted and have astigmatism but my actual disability comes from glaucoma, not from those, which are what i wear glasses for

binomech: anyway, it's really disheartening in general to have a degenerative condition but it's even worse when you base your personal value on how much of an asset you can be to the police

binomech: when i was a teenager i would study the visual clarity text charts so that i would score higher and they wouldn't tell my parents that my eyesight was getting worse because then i might not be allowed to do things i liked

binomech: i imagine a straight up adult kim lying to keep his license and the immense frustration of realizing that your best is a 7/10 when handling a gun

binomech: and knowing it's all downhill and the issue was never the words on a paper slip, that it DOES have consequences on your life and sense of self

medusaesque: god that really got me in your fic. kim and the way he tries to hold on to things that are slipping away

medusaesque: to be capable and power through. return from the sea. fight another day

binomech: shoutouts to the crushing weight of wanting to be a pilot for a commune that no longer exists, with an airforce that no longer exists, that wouldn't even take you in because you're a seolite crip

medusaesque: glory to the ghosts of us (or who we wanted to be)

binomech: howling

binomech: but yeah i do think Clinging is a big character trait of his

binomech: clinging while refusing to admit that's the only thing keeping him from falling off

binomech: again i think kim is both fully aware of how he's one misstep from his life falling apart and to some extent knows that it's a structural issue, but if it's a structural issue then it means he can't fight it alone, and you can't fight with others when the only thing you can trust is yourself

binomech: so he's got this stupid ass cognitive dissonance that has him listening to speedfreaks fm in a police issued vehicle when he should not even be allowed to drive

binomech: he plays with risk because a part of him knows that it's not a game

medusaesque: but he would never let anyone take away from him or even touch

binomech: EXACTLY

medusaesque: the thrill of danger.. from a man that the first thing you learn about him is that he would hurl himself in death's way for you

medusaesque: who outlived everyone

medusaesque: it's a dark game

binomech: not to bring quotes from other places but: "you will die for a cause, but you won't fight for one?"

binomech: kim doesn't realize he's not a sprinter, this is a fucking marathon

binomech: he seeks the thrill and the danger because going out in a blaze of glory is easy, having to apologize for all the wrong you've done and the principles you've betrayed is Hard

binomech: it's humiliating

binomech: and he won't be taken for a fool

binomech: he has a mask that is both keeping others from seeing him and him seeing himself

binomech: if his body isn't him, then he isn't lowvis, he isn't seolite, his body is a tool for justice through the RCM

binomech: and it's fucking hard, he sometimes feels the full extent of his humanity and limited individual power

binomech: so he sublimates his hopes and needs for the city that he loves. he's not a moralist but he still hopes to be a forget-me-not and a piece of the sky

binomech: an indistinguishable part of a whole

medusaesque: to be a part of anything

medusaesque: an unquestionable, necessary part

binomech: if a piece falls from the sky the sky just crumbles

binomech: he's necessary even if no-one notices

binomech: he has to be. otherwise, what is the point?

medusaesque: its all would be for nothing

medusaesque: people are more valuable than machines, it's always darkest before the dawn, sunrise parabellum, after the pale the world again, a blue forget me not a piece of the sky...mantra after mantra of this will eventually be worst it. there's belonging and worth at the end of this road

binomech: anyway all this meta was CONTEXT for skill talk -- i think that kim's mask is not a dramatic one but a folding screen, a blind (haha) to protect himself and to isolate himself. i think the ability to Spot the Beacon (both visually and emotionally) would also be very important. the flawlessly crafted cog in the machine. en dehors, as established. something full of desire that could be fulfilled if you reached out 5 centimeters to the left. dogged perseverance in the face of loss. thrillseeking.

binomech: honest to god give kim o&m aids i beg of you. he would hate a guide dog but. a fucking pocket magnifier. a light cane even if it's just for checking or social visibility (he would Despise it). a fucking psychic beam that tells harry to tell him minutiae about the world. anything

binomech: i feel like that is also a skill that i cannot conceptualize succintly - the awareness and fear of the unknown-to-you

binomech: be it the pale be it all these troves of information everyone else gets just by existing that could just pass you by i feel like that is also a skill that i cannot conceptualize succintly - the awareness and fear of the unknown-to-you

medusaesque: working together with volta do mar maybe?

binomech: absolutely

binomech: i think that volta as canonically physique tracks with my impression of kimskills

binomech: which is that they are uhhh

binomech: god anytime i try to say anything about kim it just turns into a 5 levels deep rabbithole context

medusaesque: the jacket descriptions fucking kiiled me

medusaesque: 'distant eneny of himself' howling....

binomech: in the constructed language toki pona, which is a language that is meant to be able to express everything in the world in an extremely limited amount of terms, there is a core word: selo

binomech: i promise i'm going somewhere with this bear with me

binomech: (quoting lipamanka's semantic space dictionary)

selo describes the outer layer of an object. It doesn't matter what the object is. For example, skin can be selo, and bark can be selo. This can get extended into the metaphorical. What are outer layers for? Usually, they protect that which is inside. perhaps an attempt to ignore bigotry could be described as a selo. But in doing so, you're framing it as an outer layer of your mind. selo for "protect" has a different vibe when compared with awen's protect meaning. With awen, a protection is an act of maintaining, perhaps from afar with no risk to yourself, but with selo, protection always puts something at risk, be it the skin of an apple, the walls of a castle, or the case of a guitar. selo don't always have to contain anything important, even though they usually do. Balloons are usually empty (save for air) and they can still be selo. In fact, a vaccum chamber's walls could be selo, even though they literally have nothing inside of the (save for "dark energy" or whatever don't @ me I'm not a physicist). As a verb, selo can mean "to surround fully," or "to become the outer layer of (something)." Some people use this for hugging, which is very fun.

binomech: selo, then, becomes: a shell. a protective layer. a barrier. a surface level understanding. a cover.

binomech: volta do mar as a physique skill AND as an associated trait to the jacket

binomech: your traitorous race. your traitorous job. your traitorous parents. your traitorous senses. distant enemy of yourself: seolite, communist, cripple, faggot.

binomech: and you wear it as armor

binomech: those will take the hit

medusaesque: GOD. thats so...

medusaesque: yeah

binomech: everyone associates it with the pale because of the canon references to volta and the voltas being poems and other artforms that can... filter the pale, as it were, to protect the mind

binomech: to put a net between the unknown horrors and the known horrors, to make the incomprehensible palatable to the mind

binomech: to make the harm from the Other match the harm from the Self

medusaesque: the kind of compartmentalizing kim excels at

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Doo Wop

Once in a while I have a same passing thought. During the time of Alastor and Vox being friends, I think Vox managed to convince Alastor to visit a Hells 1950's diner. Which is becoming popular as more people of that era continue to fall and some built and visit to get a sense of normalcy they are familiar with.

I think it be incredibly endearing chain of events. Because its not only Vox that yakking up how great life was during Vox time. Because Alastor has Nifty doing the same. Expressing her own interest in music to him.

Eventually Alastor gave in and visit a diner with the two of them just to make them happy. They were so excited to share part of their living lives with him.

Alastor didn't hate it like he thought he would. I know Alastor is unmoving about trying new things. But I think before his friendship sour with Vox, Alastor was at least willing to be open slightly to experiment for curiosity sake.

He didn't hate it.

He much prefer what he familiar with. Jazz from his ere is just classy, refine, has more style. I have a feeling Alastor would like doo wop music or the quartet Chordettes. I think he be charmed by their jingly tunes. I can just imagine him sitting and enjoying listening to them as he swings a finger in the air like a small rod a conductor would use.

But he reluctant to admit, Vox and Nifty mustic has appeal of fun to it.

I honestly headcanon that they died mid 50's but I'm hoping they both died in the late 50s. Because that's where all the music was really banging that they would like. I picture Vox being a Bill Haley and an Elvis fan. Nifty would definitely be en Elvis fan. He was the bad boy of that time.

I can see Nifty and Vox dressing up to go out to the theme diner/bar. Nifty in her poodle skirt. Vox dress up more like a greaser. Jeans and leather Jacket. Which Nifty loves. Nifty basically developing a small crush for Vox. They try to get Alastor to dress up, I'm unsure if they were able to convince him that far.

Vox totally try to get Alastor to share a milkshake with him. The whole double straw thing. Alastor did sample a sip but ultimately, he doesn't like sweet things. To Vox dismay, he ended up sharing with Nifty in the end who was happy and probably giving flirty look that made Vox uncomfortable.

What's better then the music...is the dancing. Alastor always loved to move but 1950's dancing was up a level. Men were tossing woman like they were acrobats that isn't part of chirography group dance. Can you imagine what type of moves Vox displayed then later Alastor with Nifty alone? The girl who weighs as much as a house cat? Then you get Vox and Alastor together...oh what fun they would have!

Not to mention, its a bit scandalous to what Alastor use to. A lot more with all those hip swivels and leg shaking.

(For those who don't know Elvis was consider a bad boy, and very controversial as his dance moves was considered vulgar at the time. But he was so popular...which meant people want to copy him)

Then you have the stupid dances that Vox and Nifty have to teach Alastor. Like the Mash potato and the twist. Which Alator think is beyond stupid...but it fun.

Its a stupid thought I keep having repeated in my mind. But I think it be so charming if the three of them had a few outings to a 50's theme. Vox and Nifty relationship would be amusing. Both getting along with shared interest but not enough to click into a deeper level. Both are just excitable gremlins, who being overly excited to show their mutual their passions of their former life.

[beep-beep-sunny]

Reddie week!!! Day 3- Meet-cute! This is based on my experience visiting Manhattan!! I did NOT like it.

You learn quickly in Manhattan that people never just want to talk. It's always something. There's always an angle. Once you stop and make eye contact, they've trapped you. They've won. Eddie Kaspbrak logically knew he grew up in Maine, but he always felt like he was shaped by New York. The fast paced hustle and bustle. He perfected the "I'm a businessman and I'm far too busy to stop and chat" demeanor.  

It was obvious when someone didn't belong. Tourists in Manhattan stuck out like a sore thumb, if the thumb had on one of those yellow hats with the sting keeping it on its head and a camera around its…neck. Do thumbs have necks? Around it's knuckle which in this analogy functions more like a neck. Regardless, it was obvious. To some, these things were walking dollar signs or lambs to be led to slaughter. Eddie just kept his head down. He had no use for tourists. They were a minor inconvenience at best. They never walked fast enough, always gauking at the various "landmarks". Sometimes, they even stared, wide eyed, in awe of the majestic and rare pigeon. 

Eddie almost felt bad for tourists, he knew the city would do nothing but chew them up and spit them, like gum, back onto the street, penniless and sore. Though, what was he realistically going to do for them? He had his own problems. His wedding chased him like a creature chasing a teen girl through the woods in a hoodie movie. He knew it was approaching, but he couldn't bring himself to look. He'd just keep walking forward until it caught up with him. His mother was also recently spending more and more time in the hospital. No, tourists were not his problem. They were as numerous as the pigeons and nothing he could do for tourists or pigeons would make any difference. 

So, he just kept walking. Keeping his head down and moving forward with purpose, clutching his briefcase with white knuckles as he made expert turns and pivots around fake monks raising money for fake temples or this costumed off brand SpongeBob that's face was just a little off in the way you'd see in a kid's creepy jumpscare game. Someone else could get suckered into taking a picture with Spongecreep that they think is free, but oops, that'll be twenty dollars. 

It was like a dance. A dance that Eddie did everyday, so he knew the chirography by heart. Dodge, dodge, duck, dip, pirouette, slide, and SMACK. 

The smack was not a normal part of the dance. What the fuck. A big sunburnt hand broke through the haze, reached out to him. "I am so sorry." Said a man in a voice that was deep, but also deeply unserious. The humor in his tone boiled Eddie's blood slightly as he took the man's hand with a hard squeeze and a tug, he pulled himself off the greasy Manhattan sidewalk Disgusting. Oh my god. When was my last tetanus shot? No. Die later, Kaspbrak. Kill this guy first. What a klutz. A big stupid lug. A- 

Eddie looked forward and got a look at the man. Dark messy hair clumping in sweaty chunks on his red forehead. Big black plastic frame glasses that were already leaving a stupid tan line. His eyes were bluer than the muddy Manhattan sky. He was lanky and big. Eddie felt small with his hand …still clutched in this stranger's large paw. He quickly ripped his hand away and straightened up his suit. The guy was obviously a tourist. Everything about him said tourist, from his yellow hat, to his camera hanging off his neck, to his kind smile and friendly eyes, but especially the fact that he stopped to help Eddie up instead of letting him get trampled like Mufasa in a stampede of antelope. No, instead, they both stood in the middle of a Manhattan sidewalk with people washing around them like they're two rocks in a stream and the sound of rushing water was the cursing Newyorkers they were mildly inconveniencing. 

Then, Eddie realized it had been a weird amount of time that he'd just been standing there, staring at this man and saying nothing. "... it's fine" he forced out, knowing he looked like an idiot even though he wasn't the one that crashed right into a stranger with his stupid long limbs. 

The guy laughed at that. What the fuck was so funny about all this? "You're pretty cute for a curmudgeonly business man." Cute? Cute?? What the hell was that supposed to mean? His eyes met Eddie's and it was like the words even surprised himself. Like he didn't know that's what he was going to say until it fell out of his mouth. "Well," he broke the eye contact. "I'm sure you have places to be, you walked right into me after all." He winked and ran off. "Bye cutie business man." Eddie should have said Excuse me? You are obviously the one that ran into me with your stupidly long limbs, you floppy man they put outside of car dealerships. 

He didn't though. Instead, he kept standing. Now a lone rock, the water only having him to slosh around. Cute? He felt something unpleasant turning in his stomach. It wasn't strictly unpleasant, but perhaps nostalgic. The kind of feeling you get when your limb just starts falling asleep or what he imagined it might feel like at the top of a roller coaster just before the big drop. It was similar to dread, but he couldn't understand why he'd be dreading something. Maybe that guy looked like a mugshot on America's Most Wanted and he was subconsciously remembering. Cute. It kept playing on repeat in his head. He could almost hear someone saying that. Cute cute cute. Probably just his mother. No one else would have called him that. Just his mother and some jackass tourist trying to make fun of him. 

He watched the man keep walking until he crested over the horizon and disappeared into a crowd of faces going every which way like a page out of a Where's Waldo book. Then, Eddie did all he could really do, and kept walking too. He wasn't even going to make it to work early. Never talk to anyone in Manhattan. Just keep walking. 

Eddie shook his head as he fast walked towards inevitability. "Cute." He repeated under his breath, and if he smiled, no one saw. 

[anx-box]

Some magma sessions with my boo @chirographier mwahh ❤️❤️

[reject-cast-dakotafinely]

Rebecca Youngblood!

Say hello to the main character of the Reject Cast series! For most of the series books you'll be following her!

What's her backstory?

Rebecca used to be one of the most popular girls in her grade. Liked and adored along with her apparent besties Jessica and Peggy. Until one day a nasty rumor spread about her, that she was secretly hanging out with the leader of the rejects, Lemao. Devastated and unable to prove her innocence, Rebecca was kicked out of her friend group. Finding her way to the rejects with some strange hope of proving her innocence. She finds herself unintentionally becoming a reject. Learning that maybe her old friends, were never really her friends to begin with.

What's She Like?

Rebecca is a tad bit of a hot head. With a strong sense for justice and fairness, she's often the first and loudest to speak up if she disagrees with opinions. Though she does tend to speak before she thinks. She's loyal to point that sometimes it's more of a fault then a strength, and as long as she believes in something she'll defend it. She's bright and bubbly and often kind to anyone within her range of reach. Rebecca loves to share positivity and is honest sometimes to her own determent. She's a chatter box with a curious soul and loves learning about peoples interests.

More About Her:

Her full name is Rebecca Alexander Youngblood

By the time she enters the story as a junior she's 5'11

She's an only child living with her mother who's a lead nurse

Her father works over seas, and typically stays for the summer, holidays, and Rebecca and her mother's birthdays

Rebecca's birthday is 02/20/01 and she's 17 when the story takes place

Fun Facts!

Rebecca is a pun enjoyer and has made puns surrounding her own hair before. She will do it again.

She's a fashionista at heart and follows a lot of famous fashion designers on social media!

Rebecca's a gamer girl, most often playing online team games. Like Valorant, Fortnite, and Overwatch. If she's not doing that though you can also find her grinding on Stardew Valley.

She loves books and poetry. She often reads anything in the Young Adult section that isn't focused soley on romance, if any romance at all.

Coffee lover, an adamant coffee lover at that. Rebecca prefers to make it home however, as she likes the smell of coffee in her house. She'll often make one before school and once she returns home.

Rebecca's not really a sweets lover. She's more of a savory girl and doesn't quiet have a sweet tooth. So she'll often choose a more savory dessert.

Can’t draw, or sing, she's not quite the creative type so she never honed those skills.

She does Cheer, though she isn't the cheer captain of her high school. She very much enjoys the gymnastics and chirography that cheer lets her indulge in.

[hazychainedpup]

my dom writing on me, before making me get dressed to cover up the smutty chirography

[nerdasaurus1200]

Okay, either Andrew taught Varian chirography or they bonded over it while in prison.

[secretmellowblog]

hello! i saw your post discussing javert's criticism of the police in his suicide note. you cited a passage that is missing from my abridged edition, and i realized that any mention of javert having left a note is missing as well. do you happen to have the full excerpt? could i bother you to post it?

Wow I can’t believe they’d cut that?

There’s a full unabridged free public domain version of the entire book here, on Gutenberg!

The bit you’re referring to happens at the end of the chapter “Javert Derailed.”

Was this to be endured? No.

A violent state, if ever such existed. There were only two ways of escaping from it. One was to go resolutely to Jean Valjean, and restore to his cell the convict from the galleys. The other....

Javert quitted the parapet, and, with head erect this time, betook himself, with a firm tread, towards the station-house indicated by a lantern at one of the corners of the Place du Châtelet.

On arriving there, he saw through the window a sergeant of police, and he entered. Policemen recognize each other by the very way in which they open the door of a station-house. Javert mentioned his name, showed his card to the sergeant, and seated himself at the table of the post on which a candle was burning. On a table lay a pen, a leaden inkstand and paper, provided in the event of possible reports and the orders of the night patrols. This table, still completed by its straw-seated chair, is an institution; it exists in all police stations; it is invariably ornamented with a box-wood saucer filled with sawdust and a wafer box of cardboard filled with red wafers, and it forms the lowest stage of official style. It is there that the literature of the State has its beginning.

Javert took a pen and a sheet of paper, and began to write. This is what he wrote:

A FEW OBSERVATIONS FOR THE GOOD OF THE SERVICE.

“In the first place: I beg Monsieur le Préfet to cast his eyes on this.

“Secondly: prisoners, on arriving after examination, take off their shoes and stand barefoot on the flagstones while they are being searched. Many of them cough on their return to prison. This entails hospital expenses.

“Thirdly: the mode of keeping track of a man with relays of police agents from distance to distance, is good, but, on important occasions, it is requisite that at least two agents should never lose sight of each other, so that, in case one agent should, for any cause, grow weak in his service, the other may supervise him and take his place.

“Fourthly: it is inexplicable why the special regulation of the prison of the Madelonettes interdicts the prisoner from having a chair, even by paying for it.

“Fifthly: in the Madelonettes there are only two bars to the canteen, so that the canteen woman can touch the prisoners with her hand.

“Sixthly: the prisoners called barkers, who summon the other prisoners to the parlor, force the prisoner to pay them two sous to call his name distinctly. This is a theft.

“Seventhly: for a broken thread ten sous are withheld in the weaving shop; this is an abuse of the contractor, since the cloth is none the worse for it.

“Eighthly: it is annoying for visitors to La Force to be obliged to traverse the boys’ court in order to reach the parlor of Sainte-Marie-l’Égyptienne.

“Ninthly: it is a fact that any day gendarmes can be overheard relating in the court-yard of the prefecture the interrogations put by the magistrates to prisoners. For a gendarme, who should be sworn to secrecy, to repeat what he has heard in the examination room is a grave disorder.

“Tenthly: Mme. Henry is an honest woman; her canteen is very neat; but it is bad to have a woman keep the wicket to the mouse-trap of the secret cells. This is unworthy of the Conciergerie of a great civilization.”

Javert wrote these lines in his calmest and most correct chirography, not omitting a single comma, and making the paper screech under his pen. Below the last line he signed:

“JAVERT,

“Inspector of the 1st class.

“The Post of the Place du Châtelet.

“June 7th, 1832, about one o’clock in the morning.”

Javert dried the fresh ink on the paper, folded it like a letter, sealed it, wrote on the back: Note for the administration, left it on the table, and quitted the post. The glazed and grated door fell to behind him.

Again he traversed the Place du Châtelet diagonally, regained the quay, and returned with automatic precision to the very point which he had abandoned a quarter of an hour previously, leaned on his elbows and found himself again in the same attitude on the same paving-stone of the parapet. He did not appear to have stirred.

[neo-cirucs]

·— WRITING NEOS —·

write/writes/writeself

author/authors/authorself

pen/pens/penself

pencil/pencils/pencilself

type/types/typeself

paper/papers/paperself

book/books/bookself

novel/novels/novelself

literate/literates/literateself

quill/quills/quillself

ink/inks/inkself

prologue/prologues/prolongeself

epilogue/epilogues/epilogueself

story/storys/storyself

paragraph/paragraphs/paragraphself

sentence/sentences/sentenceself

chirography/chirographys/chirographyself

draft/drafts/draftself

print/prints/printself

note/notes/noteself

letter/letters/letterself

scribe/scribes/scribeself

typewriter/typewriters/typewriterself

publish/publishs/publishself

cursive/cursives/cursiveself

manuscript/manuscripts/manuscriptself

✏️/✏️s/✏️self

📝/📝s/📝self

✍️/✍️s/✍️self

🖋️/🖋️s/🖋️self

🖊️/🖊️s/🖊️self

📰/📰s/📰self

📜/📜s/📜self

📖/📖s/📖self

📚/📚s/📚self

📑/📑s/📑self

📕/📕s/📕self

✒️/✒️s/✒️self

📇/📇s/📇self

📋/📋s/📋self

🗒️/🗒️s/🗒️self

[saidokins]

Detalle de la instalación ‘Quirografías’ 2023. Oaxaca. Tinta sobre papel sobre madera Ven a ver la exposición completa en @nodoespaciovisual Matamoros 402, Centro, Oaxaca Hasta el 11 de Abril. #saidokins #installationart #artinstallation #calligraphy #escritura #writing #quirografia #quirografias #chirography #art #oaxaca #artoaxaca #mexicanart https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp0ALKGu965/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sleepyowlwrites]

👀 for the ask game!

👀 - An excerpt from my WIP

Rune goes quiet again for a moment, before launching herself at him and he gets out of the way of her fist just enough that it only barely clips his chin.

“Woah!” Shadow reaches around to grab her right arm, but Rune elbows him in the gut, causing him to let go.

Jet feels any sympathy he had for her dissolve into anger. An easy switch, one he’s very used to. Emotion for adrenaline, his favorite trade-off. He catches her next hit, and she leans to the side, twisting under his arm to strike him in the back. He grunts a little before getting out of her reach. Rune advances rather than retreats, so he throws a hit of his own, aiming to knock the wind of her rather than make her bleed.

She blocks the punch and forces his arm backward, her knee coming up to trap their hands and also drive force into his hip. His leg twists and he’s falling to the side, but he brings her down with him, both of them crashing to the concrete in a tangle. Rune can’t roll away, but he can’t angle a hit, so he goes for a headlock. Her left hand presses against the side of his neck before he gets his arm around throat and black spots dance at the edges of his vision before he pushes her off and scrambles to his feet.

Rune strikes the back of his knee before he can stand up all the way and catches an elbow, pushing it in a direction it doesn’t go. Jet never taps out and he’s about to try and flip her over when new sets of hands enter the fight and drag the both of them off of each other.

Shadow has an arm wrapped around Jet’s chest and Copper is latched tightly onto Rune’s waist. For several seconds the only sounds are of heavy breathing and cloth rubbing on skin.

“Nobody hurts me,” Rune says against the silence.

None of them answer that.

“If I need help, I will ask for it. I’m not too proud, or too stupid, or under some illusion that I’m invincible. When I require your assistance I will ask, and until then, if I tell you to let me handle it, you will do so.” Rune disengages Copper’s hold.

Jet shakes Shadow off as well. “You’re a decent fighter,” is all he says.

Rune doesn’t smile, doesn’t even change expression. “I said I was. And I am not a liar.”

fight scenes are hard but there are going to be a lot of them.

thanks for asking! I'd like to call you Chiro, short for Chirography, if that's okay

[collectingall]

∀ 2002 SP Authentic Barry Bonds SP Chirography Gold Psa 9 Mint Auto /25 Pop 1 Rare http://blog.collectingall.com/TDMCh1 👉 shrsl.com/4fuj5 👈

[littlemissidontcare]

Bucky usually tends to use weapons instead

Again, this comment makes me think you're not the fan you claim. Bucky most often uses his fists or a knife. He may start w a gun, then ends up hand-to-hand. Also, Sebastian is not an actor who sits back and says "let the stuntmen do it". Again, in interviews WITH the stunt coordinator he's stated Seb learns the chirography even if they were going to use the stuntman. Sebastian himself has even said he learns the ENTIRE sequence so it's more seamless between him and the stuntman.