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lit-in-thy-heart · 4 years ago

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you know what, what's the point of being on this platform if you don't get to bellow into the void about your interests in the hope of finding someone with the same interest?

in light of this, let me inflict a lowdown of the victorian literature (mostly novels because poetry is difficult to collate) that i've read for my module this year upon my mutuals

i'll do a separate one for vampire novels and reblog with the link

because what are the victorians without vampires? straight

bleak house (dickens): what a ride that was! yes, it was nearly a thousand pages and, yes, some chapters i was like can we move on please, but that's dickens for you. honestly, i loved it. if you're looking for thinly-veiled lesbianism, this is the book for you (esda all the way, if they even have a ship name). unfortunately i already knew one of the plot twists due to watching dickensian five years before, but there are plenty more to go around! if you can get through the first chapter describing nothing but fog and the law courts, you're in for one hell of a treat -- just don't google anything about it until you've finished because you will get spoiled (or don't share a house with me, where i'll tell you the entire plot as i'm reading it). definitely recommend, but marking it down for the heteronormativity with allan. (9.5/10)

villette (c. brontë): where to fucking start. i, quite frankly, do not care for charlotte brontë, and when reading the earlier novel agnes grey by anne, i could see some more things that charlotte has filched for this travesty. no victorian novel is going to be without problems, but this one was xenophobic, ableist and, of course, racist. the protagonist doesn't really give anything away, which is meant to make her more mysterious, but it just renders her an empty vessel. oh, and she tells you stuff that she's figured out waaaaaay after she says she's figured it out, a bit like she's allowing you to feel smart for making a connection before going 'oh yeah i knew that like twelve chapters ago, keep up'. some of the passages are really striking and there's maybe one character who's likeable but that's about it. i'd say it's more a story of omission than repression tbh. (4/10)

janet's repentance (eliot): wait, have i even finished this? no, no, i have not. it's fine, i wasn't going to tell you the ending anyway. i did get hooked eventually, there were just a LOT of names thrown around in the first few chapters, and a word that i didn't know was used frequently (turns out it was a name for the followers of this guy). i did get strong hester prynne/arthur dimmesdale vibes from some of the main characters, but janet is a very sympathetic character which, after reading villette, was nice. slightly depressing in some places, but a good enough read if you're not cramming it in the day before your tutorial, because it is mildly dense. (7/10)

the wonderful adventures of mrs seacole in many lands (seacole): not what i'd been expecting to read on my module, what with it being a biography, but enjoyable nonetheless. horrible histories lied to me, though, she was in her 40s/50s when she treated people in the crimean war, not in her 20s, but that's minor. it was actually quite funny??? like she was very reluctant to give away to give away her age and almost slipped up a couple of times, and also made some very biting remarks about people who were passing comment on her skin colour. for a biography, it wasn't hugely biographical, in that she was married for what seemed all of five minutes before her husband died, when in fact they were married for several years, but if you want an in-depth depiction of war, this is for you. not what i'd usually read, but some of the descriptions are so vivid that it does read like a novel in places, though sometimes the descriptions were so detailed that i did tune out at odd intervals. (9/10)

the happy prince and other stories (wilde): if you're feeling low, don't read these. don't. especially not 'the nightingale and the rose', because that was honestly heartbreaking. really well-written, some passages were just beautiful, i just wasn't in the right headspace to fully appreciate it. it also has a lot of death, i should probably explicitly say that. (8/10)

agnes grey (a. brontë): chef's kiss, honestly. if i'd read this last year then i think it definitely would have hit a lot harder, what with agnes moving away from home for the first time and struggling with loneliness around people who she is different from. beautifully written, i'm irritated at myself for not reading it sooner, even though i've owned a copy for about four years or so. agnes does come across as a bit wet sometimes, but those moments are rare and far between, she's overall a resilient character who is trying to make her own way in the world. seeing as i managed to get through the whole thing and didn't lose focus on what i was reading, i rate it higher than jane eyre (which is a rip-off of this anyway). we stan anne. though i am marking it down for the underdeveloped romantic relationship that just pops up (9.5/10)

now for some old classics that weren't taught on my module, but i can't not mention them

a tale of two cities (dickens): this was my first dickens book and oh my word what a book. yeah, okay, lucie is a bit of a wet dishcloth and has basically no personality, but there is definitely something there between her and her maid. sydney is my baby and oh so gorgeously dramatic ("you have kindled me, heap of ashes that i am, into fire"), which was perfect for the pangs of unrequited love. the plot is slightly confusing, and you don't really understand everything until right near the end, but i loved finding parallels in the chapters set in france with the chapters set in britain. oh and the showdown between miss pross and madame defarge is wonderful. i had a tradition of reading it on the run-up to christmas, just because that was the period when i read it for the first time, but i haven't done that for the past two years just because of exams and stuff. now, bleak house just pips it at the post, but i still love it dearly. (9/10)

wuthering heights (e. brontë): i couldn't review victorian literature and not include this. there are very strong similarities between this and villette (seems charlotte really drew on her sisters' work), particularly in terms of me not liking a single one of the characters except hareton. everyone is called cathy. literally. and heathcliff/cathy one is a toxic ship that should not be boarded. it is obsession, not love. the second volume is basically a repeat of the first one, thus showing that humanity will never move past its vices and will be caught in a vicious cycle of self-destruction for the rest of time. again, though, beautifully and vividly written. the characters are the type that you love to hate. (8/10)

the tenant of wildfell hall (a. brontë): what. a. book. this was a book that was simultaneously loved and condemned as scandalous when it came out. there's mystery, there's a woman escaping a horrible situation and making her own living, and there's a well-developed relationship! and the characters are likeable (i love rose, she's great, completely goes off at her brother when she has to do things for him all the time), which always puts it onto a winner. there's one chapter with gilbert that i have to skip just because i hate what he does in it. there are quite a lot of religious references, with redemption playing a huge part in the novel, but even the religious views brontë expresses went against a lot of the teachings of the anglican church at the time. do i even need to say that it's beautifully written if it's anne? marking it down for gilbert's behaviour and arguable control of helen's narrative. (9.5/10)

far from the madding crowd (hardy): i love this book. a little more uplifting than tess but still with the drama and murder you'd expect from hardy. maybe my review is influenced by my tiny crush on bathsheba: she's not the best role model but damn what a woman. gabriel isn't quite bae but i love him all the same, i'm so glad he's happy in the end. (9/10)

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safetypinkerton · 5 years ago

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Hollywood Propaganda by Mark Dice

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hollywood-propaganda-mark-dice/1137833508

Christianity Under Attack

In order to destroy America, the conspirators are determined to eradicate faith in God and dismantle organized Christianity. Attacking Jesus and Christianity is a sacrament in Hollywood because the far-Left hates Jesus and everything He stands for. It’s not an overstatement to say that many in key positions of power in the entertainment industry (and politics) are Satanists who will someday openly embrace Lucifer as the rebel angel kicked out of Heaven for defying God.

“I’m glad the Jews killed Christ,” ranted comedian Sarah Silverman in one of her comedy specials. “Good. I’d fucking do it again!” she declares, as her audience agrees in laughter.158 While accepting an Emmy Award one year Kathy Griffin said, “A lot of people come up here and they thank Jesus for this award. I want you to know that no one had less to do with this award than Jesus. He didn’t help me a bit…so all I can say is suck it Jesus! This award is my god now!”159

I’m not saying people shouldn’t be able to make fun of Christians, but no mainstream celebrity would dare make such insults or jokes about Muhammad because Muslims (and Jews) are vigorously protected against any criticism or mockery and only wonderful things can be said about them. Even a slightly edgy joke ignites a barrage of attacks with cries of “Islamophobia” or “anti-Semitism” and gears start moving in the well-funded and massive smear machines like the ADL and the SPLC which quickly move to destroy the person’s career before they can utter another word.

Hating Christians is almost as necessary as believing in climate change if you’re going to be a mainstream Hollywood celebrity. There are very few open Christians in Hollywood, most of them are has-beens like Kevin Sorbo and Kirk Cameron who have been basically blacklisted since being open about their faith.

Kevin Sorbo was banned from Comicon because he’s a conservative and “pals with Sean Hannity.”160 He and other Christian actors are stuck doing low budget films that get little attention. They’re allowed to exist (for now) as long as they never point out the Bible’s teachings on homosexuality. Only watered down and generic Christian messages are allowed to be said.

After Guardians of the Galaxy star Chris Pratt appeared on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and happened to discuss his “spirituality,” many online began attacking him for being a Christian and attending a church. Actress Ellen Page (a lesbian) from the X-Men and Inception tweeted, “If you are a famous actor and you belong to an organization that hates a certain group of people, don’t be surprised if someone simply wonders why it’s not addressed. Being anti LGBTQ is wrong, there aren’t two sides. The damage it causes is severe. Full stop.”161

Singer Ellie Goulding threatened to back out of her scheduled performance at the 2019 Thanksgiving NFL halftime show if the Salvation Army didn’t pledge to donate money to LGBT causes. She got the idea after her Instagram comments were flooded with complaints from her fans because the Salvation Army was sponsoring the game to announce their annual Red Kettle Campaign (bell ringers) fundraiser for the homeless.162 Since the Salvation Army is a Christian charity, Goulding’s fans freaked out, accusing them of being “homophobic” and “transphobic.”

They quickly bowed to the pressure and “disavowed” any anti-LGBT beliefs, which basically means they’re disavowing the Bible because even the New Testament denounces homosexuality in Romans 1:26-27 and 1st Corinthians 6:9-10. Many critics claim that only the Old Testament does, but the Book of Romans makes it clear that just because Jesus came to offer salvation doesn’t mean God’s law regarding homosexuality changed.

The Salvation Army also removed a “position statement” from their website that had made it clear “Scripture forbids sexual intimacy between members of the same sex,” and replaced it with one saying “We embrace people regardless of race, gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or gender identity.”163 One of the world’s largest Christian charities whose very name “The Salvation Army” refers to the salvation of Christ, cowardly bowed down to the Leftist activists out of fear they would be branded “homophobic.”

Christians are easy targets since they’re much more passive than Jews and Muslims when attacked, and Hollywood loves to stereotype them as a bunch of superstitious bigots who don’t know how to have fun. In the rare case that there is a movie favorable to Christianity that gets widespread distribution, that too is attacked.

Passion of the Christ was deemed “anti-Semitic” because it depicts the story of Jesus’ arrest, sham trial, and crucifixion.164 It was the most popular film about the events to be made and wasn’t a straight to DVD release like most others. With Mel Gibson behind it, the film became a huge success, which caused a tremendous backlash.

The ADL [Anti-Defamation League] denounced the film, saying it “continues its unambiguous portrayal of Jews as being responsible for the death of Jesus. There is no question in this film about who is responsible. At every single opportunity, Mr. Gibson’s film reinforces the notion that the Jewish authorities and the Jewish mob are the ones ultimately responsible for the Crucifixion.”165 That’s because that’s what happened!

Technically, the Romans did it, but at the behest of the Jewish leadership in Jerusalem at the time. The Bible makes it very clear what led to Jesus being crucified. Pontius Pilate is quoted in Matthew 27:24 saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” and “It is your responsibility!” meaning the Jewish Pharisees. They were the ones who conspired to have Jesus arrested and killed for “blasphemy” and being a “false” messiah. Pontius Pilate even offered to release Jesus, but the crowd demanded he release Barabbas instead, another man who was being detained for insurrection against Rome, and for murder.166

A critic for the New York Daily News called The Passion of the Christ, “the most virulently anti-Semitic movie made since the German propaganda films of the Second World War.”167 Many others angrily denounced the film when it came out in 2004. Some in the media even blamed it for a supposed “upsurge” in anti-Semitic hate crimes.168

When the History Channel miniseries The Bible was released in 2013, the same cries of “anti-Semitism” rang out.169 The New York Times opinion editor Bari Weiss went so far as to say that it’s a “conspiracy theory” that Jews killed Jesus.170

Even though most Christmas movies aren’t overtly Christian and instead focus of the importance of families reuniting and spending time together, that doesn’t mean they’re not going to come under attack. As the war on western culture continues, the Marxists have set their sights on Christmas too.

Online liberal cesspool Salon.com ran a headline reading “Hallmark movies are fascist propaganda,” and complained they promote “heteronormative whiteness” because there aren’t enough LGBT characters or people of color in them.171

“Hallmark movies, with their emphasis on returning home and the pleasures of the small, domestic life, also send a not-at-all subtle signal of disdain for cosmopolitanism and curiosity about the larger world,” Salon said, “which is exactly the sort of attitude that helps breed the kind of defensive White nationalism that we see growing in strength in the Donald Trump era.”172

The article went on to say that because the Hallmark Channel airs so many Christmas movies, it is promoting, “a set of patriarchal and authoritarian values that are more about White evangelicals defining themselves as an ethnic group, and not about a genuine feeling of spirituality…The very fact that they’re presented as harmless fluff makes it all the more insidious, the way they work to enforce very narrow, White, heteronormative, sexist, provincial ideas of what constitutes ‘normal.’”173

The article wasn’t satire. Salon.com has a deep-seated hatred of Christianity, conservatives and families, and is another cog in the Cultural Marxist machine working to destroy the United States.

Comedian Whitney Cummings was reported to the Human Resources department of a major Hollywood studio after she wished the crew of a TV show she was working on “Merry Christmas” when they wrapped up for the year. She made the revelation while speaking with Conan O’Brian the following December. “Last year, I was working on a TV show, [and] got in trouble with Human Resources for saying ‘Merry Christmas’ to an intern,” she began.174

Conan asked her if she was being serious and she said it was a true story, elaborating, “I was leaving, like on the 18th or whatever…and I was like, ‘Bye guys, Merry Christmas.’” When she returned from vacation after New Year’s she was called to HR and scolded. She joked, “I don’t even care how your Christmas was. It was just a formality. It’s what you say when you leave.”175

Conan O’Brien then replied, “In these times we’re in, that could trigger someone or offend them if it’s not their holiday.”176 She didn’t say which network it was, but she’s been involved with some major shows like NBC’s Whitney (where she played the main character), as well as the CBS sitcom 2 Broke Girls, which she created and was a writer for.

While today it may seem impossible that Christmas movies may become a thing of the past, nobody could have ever guessed that reruns of the classic Dukes of Hazzard would get banned after the Confederate flag was deemed a “hate symbol” in 2015, or that Aunt Jemima pancake syrup, Eskimo Pie ice cream bars, and Uncle Ben’s Rice would be deemed “racially insensitive” and pulled from production a few years later.177

Once someone reminds liberals that the word Christmas is derived from Christ’s Mass and that it is actually a commemoration of the birth of Jesus, they may finally go over the edge and deem Christmas just as offensive as Columbus Day or the Fourth of July. And with the Muslim and Sikh populations increasing in the United States, the American standard of Christmas music playing in shopping malls and retail stores all month long every December may one day come to an end because it’s not “inclusive” and leaves non-Christians feeling “ostracized.”

#hollywoodpropaganda

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insanescriptist · 7 years ago

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Rereading the Fairy Tail manga for research purposes, so having reached a little past chapter 100, here’s impressions:

-Natsu’s not a complete idiot

-He’s just a mostly thoughtless one who doesn’t see destruction as a bad thing or as something to avoid. Hence why he doesn’t try to limit it

-He’s actually bad at intentionally trying to destroy things. Accidentally however...

-Dragon Slayer Magic is technically using an Enchantment to temporarily transform parts of a person’s body to be like a dragon’s. Which makes sense considering an Enchanter made it.

-Considering that magic can change a person’s body in various ways, accidentally making it possible to turn into a dragon should have been expected.

-Actually considering that due to Lacrima, Cobra and Laxus don’t have inner dragons doing the anti-body thing to prevent that specific side-effect, chances are they will turn into dragons eventually if they keep using it.

-Same for Sting and Rogue, since their dragons are dead.

-A lot of Natsu’s attacks are actually magnified by the enchantment; Natsu’s sheer destructive power makes a lot more sense that way. Natsu however has no sense of scale so he does things like 500x times more powerful than he needs to

-Happy is a lot smarter than he appears; he’s just an obnoxious little shit-stirrer

-Lucy stayed with Mira while trying to find an apartment to rent; also it’s Mira that hands out a copy of Lucy’s apartment key to her team.

-So they’re not breaking in. Mostly.

-Gray so killed a person without blinking; he froze a guy’s head solid during the whole ‘Lullaby Incident.’

-It’s Gray’s speed with his magic that makes him dangerous

-Gray has his issues but he’s a lot more prideful than a person would expect; intelligent fighters are great okay?

-Lyon however I have issues with. Lots of. How did you get followers? Especially ones that were part of a mage guild? Did you put out an ad in Socerer’s Weekly? How did you pay for all the supplies you’d need for a group of people for three years? How did you even move Deliora?

-Also Gray’s from the ‘northern continent’ so um... plot-hole space? Unless there’s like a second ‘northern continent’ so the ‘western counties’ remark by Ur makes sense

-need to go look at that book Levy has on one of the splash pages; is a world map

-Actually there’s a lot more death, but it’s mook death so we don’t care. See how the army was ‘defeated’ by Eisenwald or whatever it was called. This is further combined with the mooks that died at the Tower of Heaven; not just in the slave revolt flashback but when the tower is destroyed and they’re crushed, followed by the unstable magic of Etherion doing whatever to the crystals

-Lucy knows she weaker than them physically; she at least makes up for it by having a wider background knowledge of magic. Too bad none of this ever gets followed up on in other ways.

-Lucy is uncomfortable taking jobs without the rest of the team; no wonder you’re a broke bitch. Taking jobs with just Natsu means your income is breadcrumbs.

-Lucy’s also had to have renegotiated her contracts with her keys several times; otherwise she’d have only access to all her spirits on Wednesday as that’s the only ‘day’ Aquarius originally let Lucy call her on.

-When Lucy got Loke? She went and accidentally renegotiated Celestial Spirit Magic contracts in general. Because for Loke’s story to logically work out, a mage could only have one Celestial Spirit out at a time. With Loke jamming Karen out, she couldn’t summon another.

-So Lucy made it possible for summoners to have two out at one time; clearly the time for Spirit Double Battles is near

-Also Karen probably had another magic of some sort. Celestial Spirit Mages by themselves are considered weak because there’s so many conditions built into using the magic; when to use the spirit mostly but also all the agreements between the contractors. Hence Lucy must have renegotiated all her contracts at least once, as Lucy uses her keys more indiscriminately as the series progresses. It’s a versatile magic, but limited to having the item, having the contract, being the day of able to use the spirit’s time/energy etc

-Lucy might want to look into learning some other magic to be more well-rounded; as intelligent as she is, runes would be easy enough. So would re-quip. You’ve lost your keys how many times now?

-Laxus what are you wearing when first introduced? Please tell me that it was laundry day and you were wearing a gag gift from Bixlow, even if Bixlow hasn’t been introduced yet. Because awful. Let Natsu burn it, please.

-Also Laxus, considering the size of the communication lacrima in the guild, how large is the one you’re carrying? Also how do they work because the one Urtear has with her later is like the size of a basketball. Not exactly portable.

-Cana is awesome and has great leadership skills; she lead the defense of the guild against Phantom while Erza was out cold and Mira was being useless

-The Guildhall clearly has several sub-levels. Mavis’ body is well hidden and probably the reason why the basement hasn’t flooded despite being next to the lake. Makarov, I love you but it’s probably Prech/Hades who reinforced the shit out of the sub-layers.

-Loke probably overdid it during the attack by Phantom Lord and probably shaved off a few months of his ability to stay in Earthland while defending the guild. No wonder he was looking so terrible after

-Juvia once dated Bora of Titan’s Nose; you know the guy in the first chapter that Natsu beat up? You’re better off without him.

-Juvia dear, a crush is not love and you’re being somewhat obsessive; that it only gets worse and is eventually reciprocated is less than ideal; maybe it’s those last few chapters of Naruto but I keep seeing Sakura/Sasuke parallels in the ‘chase the man down for a pity fuck, get it, get a child, have ongoing depressive episode’?

-I probably wouldn’t mind this so much if Juvia had more of a personality than ‘love struck, obsessive fan.’ Like what are your ideals, what do you like that’s not about Gray?

-Lucy’s tragic backstory is probably less lonely when you consider she probably could hang out in the local ‘large’ village; she’d be slumming it but she at least would have had friendly acquaintances

-The staff do love her and she them; Lucy just doesn’t have her father’s love

-Jude is a piece of work that deserves to be told off; also, marrying Lucy to nobility for land to expand business so your eventual grandson will inherit?

-Fuck you; Lucy should have slapped a bitch. As it is, refusing to do so probably put a nail in the coffin of your business Jude.

-There’s a difference between ‘army’ and ‘rune knight’ and the latter are solely answerable to the ‘Magic Council.’ Also the ‘Magic Council’ seems to be a continent spanning organization separate from the national government, meant to monitor and organize mage guilds.

-It being corrupt as it is later is not really a surprise as there’s really not a lot to hold them accountable; Jellal and Ultear infiltrated the council and it’s implied that Jellal through work for the Council was named Wizard Saint.

-There’s probably more than just those two who have infiltrated the ‘Magic Council’ organization. Those two are just notable for having reached such a high level, as they both had voting power.

-Erza’s actually a holder-type mage, who can also use caster-type magic

-Specifically re-quip is a caster-type magic but she uses both the inherent and charged abilities of her armor and weapons to further her strength and abilities physically and magically. She’s also got some telekinesis so she can also further use this to ‘wield’ more weapons

-Erza’s oblivious to a lot of social things, which is not surprising as she’s not actually the social type.

-She’s missed so many people having a crush on her: Simon, Lucy, Gray, Bisca... yeah, Erza turns people into useless lesbians. Gray somehow manages to avoid this, possibly through the power of stripping. More probably through friendship and being in a Rivalry with Natsu

-Rivals is a relationship status okay; someone where between committed and it’s complicated

-Erza’s ability to kill a bitch gets nerfed for plot purposes; namely Jellal

-Jellal, you being evil I like. You have personality. You’re an asshole but somehow charming with your teenage boy sense of humor and extra-ness. Your fashion sense however needs work.

-Jellal was clearly in charge of getting supplies and such for his minions/slaves. And yet he can’t import a fashion sense? Clearly skipped movie night too much

-Wally so did make movie nights happen; they can probably quote movies verbatim

-Jellal focused a lot on Natsu. Not for his magic but because he wanted to fight Natsu. No evil plotting here

-Simon, you are so pathetic, this is why you’re a plot point later, so you can actually be useful after death

-Also Erza, ‘Eternal Wizard Saint’? Aren’t you just going a little far in your imaginary funeral. Makarov’s speech was in character but, a little more realism

-Oh and there’s more mook death in the Tower of Heaven arc; I think I mentioned it before? Them getting crushed by a collapsing tower and then vaporized by unstable magic? No wonder Erza and Jellal were spit back out; plenty of people died.

-Erza probably ripped open her second origin/magic container here, trying to absorb and direct the unstable Etherion magical build-up

-The way the story is framed makes you think the dragons are out and in hiding somewhere, instead of being spirits inside their slayers or something

-It’s probably a flashback?

-Oh and Lucy can make fireworks too; clearly gate keys are not just for summoning spirits

#Izzy rambles #Izzy tells no lies here #reference #Sin and Power

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nerdy-nonbinary · 8 years ago

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Carry That Weight

The hardest part, she soon realized, was finding the moment to say it. It wasn’t like she and Midoriya were close or anything, though they weren’t strangers like they had been before. But he had his friends, and she had hers, and even in the occasional moments they’d had together alone, it’s not like she could just say, “Hey, can I talk to you about my gender problems?”

Jirou’s brain has been abuzz constantly since that day. Sure, she had heard of being transgender before, but it always seemed so distant from her own reality. And yes, she had always hated her chest a bit more than what seemed to be normal, but she’d always brushed it aside, chalking it up to jealousy over other girls for her small chest. It also explained why she stared at the girls in her middle school too much. It was just jealousy, right?

Looking back, she felt so stupid at how long it took her to realize she was gay. She wore her lesbian identity with pride now, especially with the purple pervert out of the way. She had everything she’d wanted in middle school. Accepting friends, a massive crush on a certain class rep that may or may not be requited, and a place where, if that crush ever went anywhere, she wouldn’t have to live in fear. She thought she’d be happy.

But there was a tiny itch in the back of her brain, one that latched on and refused to let go. Some days, it was barely there, and she thought she was finally past the confusion that had set in, but other days, every “she” and “girls” and brush of her uniform against her knees left her screaming in her head, and she was almost certain she was developing insomnia with the way she put off going back to the girls’ dorm some nights.

Tonight was one of those nights. She had resigned herself to another day of coffee-powered torture, and plugged herself into her phone, hoping some music would calm her nerves enough to let her zone out. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it), she wasn’t alone that sleepless night.

Midoriya was sitting inches from the TV, notebook in hand, furiously writing notes on a hero who had made their debut that day. Their power was something having to do with sand. Turning into it? Controlling it? She hadn’t been paying attention, but she heard Midoriya’s pencil furiously scratching down notes, determined to put all his thoughts on the paper. She realized he had been sitting there for several minutes, unmoving except for his hand and the occasional glance at the screen. It was a bit unnerving, honestly.

“Might want to get back a bit. Sitting too close can hurt your eyes, you know,” She called out.

Midoriya shouted, leaping back from his spot at the TV. “AH! Oh, uh, hey, Jirou. Sorry, kinda forgot there was someone else here.”

“It got you away from the TV, at least.” She absentmindedly patted the couch next to her. “Want a seat? It’s probably more comfortable than the floor.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Midoriya sat next to her, and she could feel his anxiety shooting through the air.

“Dude, you don’t have to be so nervous. It’s just a couch, it’s not gonna bite you.”

“Ha ha, yeah,” he laughed halfheartedly, but she could tell there was something else he wanted to say. “Say, Jirou, could I ask you something?”

She panicked, a little bit. She hoped he hadn’t caught her discomfort (dysphoria? She wasn’t sure if she could call it that). If it had really been that obvious, she’d flip, but since he was trans, he may have been more in tune with the signs. She prayed it was that latter, and braced herself for his question.

“Could you give me some music recommendations?”

“Huh?” She was not expecting that.

“I mean, it’s no surprise you the most musically inclined in the class, and you listen to music on your phone a lot, so I thought you’d be able to help.”

“Yeah, sure,” She replied. “So, what kind of music do you listen to?”

“Uhhh… none?”

Jirou’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You’re telling me you’ve gone all sixteen years of your life without ever hearing a single song?”

“No, not like that! Of course I’ve heard music! I just mean, I’ve never really gone out of my way to listen to any. I’ve just heard whatever others have been playing. So, I guess I just wanna find music I actually want to listen to. I just have no idea where to start.”

Jirou’s heart stopped hammering against her chest. She understood people led different lives, but life without music? She couldn’t imagine. “Okay. Do you have any idea of what kind of music you might like? Genre, instrument, hell, even language. Just give me a jumping off point.”

Midoriya thought for a long moment. “I guess… I like guitar, electric especially. And I think there’s a band who I’ve heard a few songs from and enjoyed. They were British, and listening to English music is fun, especially when it helps you learn the language. They had something to do with bugs…”

“The Beatles?”

“Yeah, those guys! Could you show me their music?”

“Which kind? Their early, cheesy love songs? Their mellow ballads? Their psychedelic sitar stuff?”

Midoriya shrugged. “I don’t know. All of it? There can’t be that much, they weren’t together for very long.”

Jirou stared, then smiled a devious grin. “Honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.”

—–

“What the fuck was that?!?”

“I know, right? You think you’re prepared, but nothing can prepare you for Revolution 9.”

“God, I’m going to hear that chanting in my nightmares for weeks.” Midoriya shuddered. Suddenly, something fell over on a table behind them, and he turned around. “Hello?”

A quiet voice whispered in his ear. “Number nine, number ni-“

“Ahhhh!!! Jirou!” He pushed her away, and she fell over laughing. “God, I can’t believe that scared me. I’ve fought villains, for God’s sake!”

“Even veterans like me get the chills, my student. Now, kneel.” Midoriya stared at her with a confused look. “I said, kneel!”

“Fine, fine,” he gave her a questioning grin before relenting, getting off the couch and kneeling before her, his head bowed. She grabbed her phone and began to play Hey Jude, then held it out like a sword. “By the powers vested in me by our lords and saviors Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, and Starr, May they rest in peace, I now dub thee a true Beatles fan.” She tapped his shoulders and head with her phone before they both fell over, trying to muffle their laughs from their sleeping classmates, who must have been cursing their 2 AM rampage.

Midoriya wipes tears from his eyes, catching his breath as he climbed back on the couch. “God, Jirou, I wish we’d hung out before this. I never knew you had such a great sense of humor!”

“I reserve it for friends. Everyone else gets my leftover dredges of sarcasm.”

“Wow, I used to be so afraid to talk to girls like you. Did you know I was proud of myself for just mumbling to Uraraka on the day of the entrance exams?”

“Ha ha, wow…” She tried to feign laughter, but being called “girl” again just sucked all the energy out of her. It wasn’t even his fault, and still she just felt empty. What was wrong with her head?

“Is something wrong, Jirou?” Shit. He’s picked up on it.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” she tried to steer the focus away from her discomfort. “I’ve just been thinking about stuff.”

“Wait. Is it because I said girl?” Why did he have to be so damn perceptive? “Oh my god, Jirou, are you trans?” Now what was she gonna say? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, so you have another name, well I call you your last name, but still should I-“

“Stop!” Her world was spinning, and she couldn’t control her voice. Everything was out of her control. She felt herself falling, falling. She had to grab something. “No, I’m not a boy.” She dangled from a small ledge by one hand. “But I don’t know if I’m a girl either.” Two hands up. “I don’t want to bother you, I don’t want you to feel like you’re the class’s “trans messiah”, here to teach us all of the complexities of gender or anything.” Shit. Her sarcasm made her fingers slip, she was about to plummet into oblivion.

Suddenly, a hand caught her, just as she was about to fall. She looked into a pair of startling green eyes. “I’m here if you want to talk, Jirou. I don’t mind.”

“Okay…” Jirou was hesitant. She wasn’t used to sharing things so openly. She was barely at this point with Yaoyorozu, her best friend, yet Midoriya gave off this vibe that just made her feel safe. He really was meant to be a hero. “I’m not really sure what it is. I’ve never really liked my chest, but I always just assumed it was because I was jealous of all the other girls in my school having bigger ones than me. I always stared at them too long, but I brushed it off as jealousy, you know? Turns I was just very, very gay, and there were a lot of really pretty girls at my school.” Midoriya laughed, and Jirou felt a bit more tension lift from her shoulders. She smiled. “But after what happened with… him, I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Some days it’s barely there, and other days being called a girl makes me want to tear my hair out and scream.” She suddenly became quiet. “That’s why I’m out here tonight. I couldn’t bear to go back to the “girls” dorm, when it felt so wrong. I just don’t know what I am anymore.”

They sat in silence, Midoriya processing everything she had said. Jirou was about to make a break for it, resigning herself to a night of discomfort, when Midoriya asked, “Jirou, have you ever heard of being ‘nonbinary’?”

“No, should I have?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Being nonbinary means you aren’t a boy or a girl. Or, at least fully.”

Jirou stared in disbelief. “Wait a second. I don’t have to pick one?”

“Of course not, no more than I have to be the gender I was assigned. Here, this is a good starting point.” He hands her his phone, open to a webpage titled “Beyond the Binary”. He watched her scroll through the page in awe. After a few minutes, she handed it back to him.

“Holy shit,” she said. “I think I’m nonbinary.”

“Congrats!”

“Wait, can I be nonbinary and a lesbian? I’m still female-aligned, I think, so am I misusing it? Or does it not count cause I’m not really a girl? Do I have to find a new name for that, too?” Jirou had found so much comfort in her lesbian identity. She wasn’t sure she could give that up. Luckily, it didn’t seem she had to.

“No, you can be nonbinary and a lesbian, if that’s what makes you feel comfortable. Do you want me to keep using she pronouns? Or something else?”

Jirou thought for a moment. “I don’t mind she and her, I don’t think, but… could you try they/them as well?”

“Sure! Here, I’ll try them out. This is my friend Jirou, they’re in my class at school and they made me listen to some really fucked up music tonight.”

“Shut up!” They shoved him off the couch, laughing until their bellies ached, and they realized, for the first time in a long time, they were content with who they were. Who they are. They were nonbinary, they were gay, they were a hero in training, and they were laughing their head off with a new-found friend at 2 AM. Everything finally felt right.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #jirou kyouka #midoriya izuku #trans guy Izuku Midoriya #trans Izuku Midoriya #trans character #nonbinary character #nonbinary Jirou Kyouka #nonbinary headcanon #trans bnha #my own post #Me: *writing a fic about a nonbinary person who likes girls really liking the beatles*#Me?? Projecting?? No way

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doctor-ciel · 5 years ago

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I’ve seen a lot of posts on here talking about the Stonewall Riots. And that’s good! But so far all the one’s I’ve seen have been giving the credit of starting them to Marsha P. Johnson, and while she was an amazing lady who absolutely was a huge figure in the gay rights movement before her death, and it’s important to recognize black leaders in the movement especially now, I just wanted to make sure people knew that she herself actually said that she wasn’t the one who started the riots, and in fact she didn’t get to the inn the first night until the building was already on fire. It is important to know about both her and the woman who most likely did start the riots, Stormé DeLarverie, so I’ll give information on them here.

I’m also going to preface this by saying that my only credentials for writing this is that I’ve recently written a thesis paper on the Stonewall Riots, so I’ve done my fair share of research on it. Apart from that, I’m not an expert in this. I’m also just going to use wikipedia for research and links because the information there is legit and I’m not pulling out all the sources I used on my paper.

This post has been edited to use Stormé’s proper pronouns.

Who did start the riots, you ask? Most likely, it was Stormé DeLarverie. (Tumblr’s not allowing me to add a link in the text to his wikipedia page, so here is the link: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stormé_DeLarverie) He, as well as many other people, say that it was his scuffle with police that were trying to arrest him, and him asking the crowd “why don’t you guys do something?”, that started the riots. And while its less certain whether he was the butch who threw the first punch, all accounts agree that he was one of the butches who was fighting the police during the riots.

Stormé was a butch lesbian with a black mother and white father. He was well known for being the “guardian of lesbians in the Village” and was also known as “the Rosa Parks of the gay community.” He was an MC, singer, bouncer, bodyguard and volunteer street patrol worker. After the riots, he was a bouncer for several lesbian bars in NYC, was a member of the Stonewall Veterans' Association, and was a volunteer street patrol worker. This is a quote from his obituary in The New York Times:

“Tall, androgynous and armed – [he] held a state gun permit – Ms. DeLarverie roamed lower Seventh and Eighth Avenues and points between into [his] 80s, patrolling the sidewalks and checking in at lesbian bars. [He] was on the lookout for what [he] called "ugliness": any form of intolerance, bullying or abuse of [his] "baby girls." ... "[He] literally walked the streets of downtown Manhattan like a gay superhero. ... [He] was not to be messed with by any stretch of the imagination.”

Aside from LGBTQ activism, he also organized and performed at benefits for battered women and children. When asked why he did this, he said "Somebody has to care. People say, 'Why do you still do that?' I said, 'It's very simple. If people didn't care about me when I was growing up, with my mother being black, raised in the south.' I said, 'I wouldn't be here.'"

This isn’t to say that Marsha P. Johnson wasn’t an important figure in the riots or the gay rights movement. While she didn’t throw the first brick, she did climb up a lamppost on the second night of the riots and drop a bag, which had a brick in it, on the windshield of a cop car. She also did lots of important work after the riots. She joined the Gay Liberation Front and participated in the first Christopher Street Liberation Pride rally(aka the first pride parade). In 1970 she staged a sit-in protest at Weinstein Hall at New York University alongside fellow GLF members after administrators canceled a dance when they found out it was sponsored by gay organizations. Her and Sylvia Rivera also co-founded the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (STAR) organization and the STAR House, a shelter for gay and trans street kids.

The two of them also attended many gay liberation marches and other radical political actions. In 1973 they were banned from participating in the gay pride parade by the gay and lesbian committee who were administering the event stating they "weren't gonna allow drag queens" at their marches, claiming they were "giving them a bad name". Their response was to march defiantly ahead of the parade. One quote of hers you might be familiar with is from a gay rights rally at New York City Hall. When asked by a reporter why the group was demonstrating, she shouted "Darling, I want my gay rights now!"

In the 1980s, she was a respected organizer and marshal with ACT UP. When George Segal's Stonewall memorial was moved to Christopher Street to recognize the gay liberation movement, Marsha said “How many people have died for these two little statues to be put in the park to recognize gay people? How many years does it take for people to see that we're all brothers and sisters and human beings in the human race? I mean how many years does it take for people to see that we're all in this rat race together."

So just in summary, while it wasn’t Marsha P. Johnson who started the riots but most likely Stormé DeLarverie, it’s important to know about both of them and the work they did after the riots because they both were important figures in the gay rights movement. But when you are talking about the riots, please do remember that Marsha wasn’t the one who started them, and that this is a fact she’s stated herself. I’m seeing a lot of great posts going around that give credit for this to her, and I can’t reblog them because of the misinformation. Happy pride, everyone! And don’t forget that the first pride was a riot.

#lgbtq #stonewall riots #marsha p johnson #sylvia rivera #stormé delarverie #pride month

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racingtoaredlight · 8 years ago

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Nobody Asked You, RTARL: Vol. IX

Dear E. Jean Butters: Let me start off by explaining that I'm not a woman with outrageous expectations. But the thought that I'll never find a man to be happy with is so frustrating, I've resorted to casual sexual encounters. And it's not like I'm high-maintenance. Nor am I a neurotic clinger who expects to meet Mr. Right at a bar or club. So how do I make it happen?

My last relationship ended two years ago and left me heartbroken. But I'm holding my head high and have not looked back. I don't want to sound conceited, but I'm kind, generous, low-key, and I have a good heart. I excel at my job, and I'm pretty—so I just don't get it. When I do manage to meet someone, we have dinner, then—nothing. Somehow they fall off the face of the planet. (I don't sleep with them that night. I'm not the dumb girl wondering why they don't call.) But now the dates are becoming fewer and fewer. I've had just one in the past seven months!—Where the Boys Aren't

Lacking real expectations? Desperate? Employed? LIKES DINNER? Girl, you’ve come to the right place for advice, the answer to all your questions has been right here all along in the form of this ready and willing blogger. If you’re shy about sharing a photo let me break the ice, hope you too like the Packers.

I am very committed to dinner and would be willing to drive all the way to the east side of Madison where there’s still a Red Lobster to show you a cheddary, biscuity good time. But to avoid the traditional “nothing” that follows perhaps taking in a movie would serve us well. Based on your screen name I assume (NSFW, especially you my love who excels at her job) you’re also a fan of my favorite film series. Ladies choice of course which we watch first, I have many of them on VHS:

Where the Boys Aren’t - It's all girls. It's bring-your-own-pajamas. It's the wettest, wildest slumber, bumper, rocking, rolling party on record. And even if you weren't invited, you can always drop in.

Speaking of not being invited, good chance my drug dealer stops by and he’s not about to leave during a lesbian pajama party movie so I hope you’re really committed to making new friends.

Where the Boys Aren’t 2 - Imagine this: Five showgirls shipwrecked with only each other for companionship. For warmth. For pleasure. No men. No skipper. No Gilligan. And of course, no Ginger, since she's making regular movies. Wait a minute. Stop. Why are you imagining this? Rent this tape. And see what happens.

I don’t get it, Mary Ann wasn’t a porn actress so why would she be there but not Ginger? Whoops, sorry m’lady, sometimes I get focused on some strange, unconventional things.

Where the Boys Aren't 3 - Tori. Heather. Jamie. Cheri. And Kelly Royce. Six horny former showgirls stranded after their boat capsizes off the coast of who-knows-where. We call it "Shipwrecked Showgirls." You'll call it Tori Welles, Jamie Summers and Heather Hunter naked on your TV. But that's okay. These art films are meant for personal interpretation. Enjoy.

Maybe these girls should try taking a plane! (You’ll find I’m very, very funny. I’d consider being a cruise ship comedian if I wasn’t so convinced from watching these movies that it will wreck and I’ll be murdered by the lesbians who want to just love each other).

Where the Boys Aren’t 4 - The New Gold Standard. Savannah and Jamie, video's most gorgeous blondes, are trapped in an all-girl boarding school with jealous sophomores, innocent recruits and horny alumni. Sound like typical adult fare? It's not. It's Savannah. It's Jamie. It's Paul Thomas. It's the Gold Standard.

Slow down with this gold standard shit and leave the editorializing to me. And what the fuck is Paul Thomas doing here if it’s where the boys AREN’T. Sorry sweetie, Part 4 is off the table and I’m throwing it into a trash fire right after I send my reply.

Where the Boys Aren’t 5 - Five girls. Six scenes. One Guy: You. All-New! All-Girl! No Bones About It!

Well there’s one bone right here! That, uh, you’re under no obligation to look at or scold in a German accent on our very first date.

Where the Boys Aren’t 6 - It used to be a men's club. But now it's all women- doing what women will do when they're relaxed- at ease- and into other women. It's WBA 6- featuring the return of Amber! The return of Christy! And Janine! In the all-star- all girl romp of all time. Are you all-man enough.

As a staunch feminist who is hoping you make enough at this fancy job of your to support me financially while I commit to making the most of a Netflix subscription, it’s empowering to see these lesbians thrive in a man-less world. We should hold hands during this one.

Where the Boys Aren’t 7 - Asia and Dyanna are a seemingly inseparable duo. Musically and personally. Dyanna sings. Asia plays piano. And business booms. In comes a pair of predatory record execs, Christy and Julia. And a predatory vixen named Janine, who has her eyes on innocent, young Jenna -- the new girl in town...

I know right? Seeing a young Jenna Jameson’s like going back and witnessing a young Ron Karkovice hit for the White Sox. Hope you like baseball since I like checking out new parks in the summer, sadly I doubt you’ll be able to come with me what with all the overtime you’ll have to put in to fund my expenses but I’d bring you home every nacho helmet I finish off.

Where the Boys Aren’t 8 - Robert Cunningham is an extremely wealthy businessman. He's also dead. He's had several true loves, none of whom ever got along. But his will stipulates that if they are to share his fortune, they have to learn to like each other. And then some. Vivid presents our top supermodels, straight from the pages of the legendary Penthouse magazine Janine, Nikki, Jenteal, Dyanna Lauren, and Alexis Christian. In our most star-studded all-girl spectacular yet. WBA8. All your favorites. Without the staples.

At the risk of you thinking me too much of a geek for writing fan fiction about my favorite films and TV shows, yes I did pen an alternate story for this one where Robert Cunningham died with an erection and the girls all take turns riding it. Maybe if you agree to a second date I’ll let you read it LOL!

Where the Boys Aren’t 10 - The superstars of munch return for one wild, tenth anniversary lesbian spectacular! It's adult's most popular all-girl series for a reason It's all-hot, all-drenched, all-vibed and all out nasty as they wanna be! WTBA ... It's where you wanna be!

I don’t own the silly ninth installment because it’s a giant dream sequence and that’s not my bag, the only dream I’m interested in is the one where we’re trying each other’s shrimp trios at the Red Lobster on the east side. But that dream will be reality.

Well that about does it, I never bothered purchasing parts 11 through 17 since the return of the munch superstars in Part 10 was too perfect to end on, if we blow through all nine videos I have after our date I also have the entire series of The Critic so we can laugh until the sun comes up.

So to answer your question about how to fix your love life, email [email protected] with your movie preference and when I should plan to be at the restaurant on the east side and I’ll move this letter into the Life Fixed pile.

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

#advice #red lobster #cheddar bay biscuits #shrimp trio #where the boys aren't #where the boys aren't 2 #where the boys aren't 3 #where the boys aren't 4 #where the boys aren't 5 #where the boys aren't 6 #where the boys aren't 7 #where the boys aren't 8 #where the boys aren't 10

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performingtheartsrp · 8 years ago

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We received a fantastic application for Joe Hart, and we’re truly excited to welcome Sil into our family. Please take a moment to go over the New Member Checklist, and send in your account within 24 hours.

OOC:

NAME: Sil

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: They/them

AGE: 19

TIMEZONE: GMT +2:00

ACTIVITY LEVEL (1-10): 5-7/10, because I work a few days a month and am a full-time university student.

OLD ROLEPLAY ACCOUNTS: RFP

ANYTHING ELSE: RFP

IC:

CHARACTER’S NAME: Joseph Abraham Hart, Jr.

CHARACTER’S BIRTHDAY: 28th of May, 1992

CHARACTER’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual, but gravitates more towards women (is not aware of his attraction towards men yet)

SHIPS: Joe/Quinn, Joe/female, Joe/chemistry

ANTI-SHIPS: Joe/no chemistry

MIDGAME SHIPS: Joe/Quinn, Joe/Mercedes, Joe/Kurt, Joe/Blaine (I have more than two, sorry)

CHARACTER TWEETS:

@thatjoehart: I still cannot believe the Lord has blessed me to play Jesús Martinez in the new ABC series #PerformingTheArts!

@thatjoehart: I suppose that the crayon lines on my wall made by my little brother could be considered modern art…

@ thatjoehart: “How blessed is he who considers the helpless; the Lord will deliver him in a day of trouble.” Getting this tattooed tomorrow!

BIOGRAPHY:

On the 28th of May, 1992 a little baby boy was born in Sumiton, Alabama. He was baptized Joseph Abraham Hart, Jr. and was the first son of Joseph Hart, Sr. and his wife, Rebecca. His parents were both 21 years old when they had him and had both just completed their missionary training. That is why the young family didn’t stay in Alabama for long. When he was only six months old, his parents up and left for Congo where they lived for two years to preach the gospel. There, his little sister Sarah was born just before they packed up and moved again.

In the beginning of the year 1995, they left Congo to go to Brazil. He and his family lived there for five years and welcomed three new children into the family: in January of 1996 his brother Elijah and in December of that same year, his second brother Solomon was born. In 1999, his mother gave birth to his new sister, Ruth. Joe, as he was called by his parents to avoid confusion, loved Brazil. He loved his friends and soaked up the Portuguese language like a sponge. He became as fluent as his friends and helped his father translate his sermons from the time he was six. He also acted out the Bible stories his father told the people of the villages and that is when the seed for his love for acting was planted. He continued to do this for several years and got increasingly better at it. He is still fluent in Portuguese to this day, but that isn’t the only language he learned throughout his childhood because soon, they’d move again.

He considered Brazil his home until he was seven. Then he was told they had to go again, that his parents were to go to India. He had cried silently when they left their village, the village he had always known as home. His little sister Sarah was upset too, so his father reprimanded him. He was a boy; he wasn’t supposed to cry. He was supposed to be strong and be there for his younger siblings. He had to make them feel safe, so he dried his tears and did what he was told. “Thou shall not disobey your parents” is what the Bible says, so that is what Joe did.

His time in India ended up being quite interesting as well. His family lived there from March of 2000 until May of 2002. Joe learned quite a bit of Hindi in his time there but he didn’t make friends that easily. He knew that any day, they could move again. He knew that the attachment would only lead to heartache. Instead he became more focused on his faith, which honestly was the only constant in his life. He had always just gone along with what his parents said, the words they quoted at him. When he was nine, he started to read the Bible for himself, making notes and writing down his interpretations in a little brown notebook. It took him until he was twelve to finish the Bible and then he started again, rewriting and correcting his notes.

When he was twelve and read the last page of the Bible he was in a completely different place than when he read the first page of said book. He was in Chile now and they were packing up to move back to Alabama. He now had two more brothers, named Isaac and Jeremiah who were twins and about a year old. His parents had gotten weary of the travelling and wanted a quiet life back at home in Alabama. Joe wasn’t sure what to make of it. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to move back. He’d hoped they’d go back to Brazil and this America which his parents spoke so fondly of, he had absolutely no affinity for whatsoever.

His father became a door-to-door Bible salesman and his family could barely make ends meet. His mother was a housewife and cared for Joe and his six siblings, but it weighed heavily on her. Normally, his father was around to help but now, he was on the road six days of the week. That is why Joe stepped up and helped his mother out with the children. He did the preparations for dinner, he changed diapers, potty-trained the boys, disciplined his siblings when necessary and gave them the necessary religious guidance they needed. He also did pretty much all the ‘dad’ stuff. He went fishing with his siblings, taught them how to throw a ball and made his little sisters feel like princesses. He started caring a little less for his siblings when he went to a public high school for the first time, when he was around 16. He was tired of being locked away in his house. He wanted to make some friends, get a taste of what life was like and boy, what a taste he got.

During the first day of his sophomore year, which was his first school day, he walked around with his mouth agape. He couldn’t believe how some boys and girls were openly kissing (read: making out!), how short the skirts of certain girls were and how low cut tops were. He couldn’t believe the curse words he heard and how so many people took the Lord’s name in vain. He almost didn’t want to go back to that place again, that place full of sinners! He talked it over with his father, over the phone, who told him Jesus preferred the company of sinners for a reason. That did change his mind and he decided to go back. He still considers that to be the best decision of his life.

He went back and discovered that those people he had gaped at, that he had prayed for so they would not go to hell were not all that bad. They may not all believe the same things he believed, but they were kind, giving and open to him. His best friend, Alex, taught him how to play the guitar and another classmate, Lisa always saved a seat for him in the classes they shared together. The three of them became inseparable until the end of Senior year. The trio discovered that they had a common interest in acting and joined the afterschool drama club. They put on a few plays and even a self-made musical.

Joe wasn’t aware of it, but he was the best student in the drama club. His teacher approached him though, telling him to take acting classes. When Joe explained his family’s financial situation, the teacher offered to teach him privately for free. He taught him how to sing and act and laid the foundation that would eventually lead Joe to Los Angeles because now, Joe had a very clear goal in life. He wanted to act and perform.

After senior year, Joe started working as a cashier in a local grocery store. He was intelligent but had not gotten a scholarship and there was simply no money for college. He had a plan though. He’d save up enough money to pay for a plane ticket to Los Angeles and to make sure he could live off his savings for a few weeks. He trusted that the Lord would care for him and would lead him to where he was supposed to go.

It broke his heart to leave his family behind and move to Los Angeles but he felt that he had to do it, that there was something great waiting for him. His parents told him to follow his heart and what the Spirit guided him to do. They had once been risk takers and travelers too, and they loved that their eighteen-year-old son was so much like them.

His first months in Los Angeles were tough. There were nights where he had no place to sleep and days that he didn’t eat but he auditioned for everything he could… He prayed three times a day, a practice that kept him going. He was about to give up though, tired of the rejection and the emptiness of his existence… and then it happened. He landed his first role in a Christian movie. He played a son of Noah in a movie aimed at children, to explain to them the story of The Ark. He worked for the same Christian movie company until about two months ago. It allowed him to make a name for himself as a Christian actor and it paid enough so he could rent an apartment with three other Christian guys he knew from church.

It was one of those friends who told him that there was a chance to audition for a part in a mainstream TV series. It was called Performing the Arts and considering they were looking for an actor who could sing as well, Joe would be a perfect fit. Joe decided to just give it a try, not thinking that he’d land anything. He couldn’t believe it when he was cast as Jesús Martinez. He almost cried when he got the call to tell him that he’d gotten the role of Jesús Martinez, but not for the reasons you might think. He was afraid. He would be playing a character who was openly bisexual and the child of a lesbian. He didn’t know how that was going to go over with his fans and family. He wasn’t even sure how he felt about it! He’d always seen homosexuality in all its forms as impure and against God. How was he going to play this character in an honest and true fashion? What would he do if the script told him to do something that he considered immoral, such as kissing a man? He could have declined it; he knew that but the same feeling that he got about going to Los Angeles came over him. He had to do it.

This decision had some consequences though. His father hasn’t spoken to him since he found out and the Christian movie producer he worked for made it very clear that he will never star in another film of theirs again. Everything is riding on this role now. Joe must make sure that this role makes it possible for him to break into the mainstream entertainment business because where he came from has nothing more to offer him…

YOUR CHARACTER’S HEAD CANON FOR THEIR CHARACTER: Joe’s head canon for Jesús is that he is a great dancer, in addition to being a great musician. He has always hidden behind his guitar because it makes him feel safe but also because dancing was something his father disapproved of. He saw it as too feminine and not as something that his son should be doing. When he’d been caught trying to pirouette when he was ten years old, his father had made him feel so embarrassed that he hasn’t danced since that moment. At least not with the door unlocked. He dances every day, before and after school in his room and has gotten very good at it. Joe hopes that one of the other characters in the series will stumble upon Jesús dancing and convince him to take lessons and develop his talent more.

#accepted #joe hart rp

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lesbianrewrites · 8 years ago

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The Martian Chapter 8

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page.

This is a Lesbian edit of The Martian by Andy Weir.

Chapters will be posted every day at 2pm EST.

Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

CHAPTER VIII

“Hello, and thank you for joining us,” Cathy said to the camera. “Today on CNN’s Maia Watney Report: Several EVAs over the past few days… what do they mean? What progress has NASA made on a rescue option? And how will this affect the Ares 4 preparations?

“Joining us today is Dr. Venkat Kapoor, Director of Mars Missions for NASA. Dr. Kapoor, thank you for coming.”

“A pleasure to be here, Cathy,” Venkat said.

“Dr. Kapoor,” Cathy began, “Maia Watney is the most-watched person in the solar system, wouldn’t you say?”

Venkat nodded. “Certainly the most watched by NASA. We have all 12 of our Martian satellites taking pictures whenever her site’s in view. The European Space Agency has both of theirs doing the same.”

“All told, how often do you get these images?”

“Every few minutes. Sometimes there’s a gap, based on the satellite orbits. But it’s enough that we can track all her EVA activities.”

“Tell us about these latest EVAs.”

“Well,” Venkat began, “It looks like she’s preparing Rover 2 for a long trip. On Sol 65, she took the battery from the other rover and attached it with a homemade sling. The next day, she detached 14 solar cells and stacked them on the rover’s roof.”

“And then she took a little drive, didn’t she?” Cathy prompted.

“Yes she did. Sort of aimlessly for an hour, then back to the Hab. She was probably testing it. Next time we saw her was two days later, when she drove 4km away, then back. Another incremental test, we think. Then, over the past couple of days, she’s been stocking it up with supplies.”

“Hmm,” Cathy said, “Most analysts think Maia’s only hope of rescue is to get to the Ares 4 site. Do you think she’s come to the same conclusion?”

“Probably,” Venkat said. “She doesn’t know we’re watching. From her point of view, Ares 4 is her only hope.”

“Do you think she’s planning to go soon? She seems to be getting ready for a trip.”

“I hope not,” Venkat said. “There’s nothing at the site other than the MAV. None of the other presupplies. It would be a very long, very dangerous trip, and she’d be leaving the safety of the Hab behind.”

“Why would she risk it?”

“Communication,” Venkat said. “Once she reaches the MAV, she could contact us.”

“So that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?”

“Communication would be a great thing. But traversing 3,200km to Ares 4 is incredibly dangerous. We’d rather she stayed put. If we could talk to her, we’d certainly tell her that.”

“She can’t stay put forever, right?” she asked. “Eventually she’ll need to get to the MAV.”

“Not necessarily,” Venkat said. “JPL is experimenting with modifications to the MDV so it can make a brief overland flight after landing.”

“I’d heard that idea was rejected as being too dangerous,” Cathy said.

“Their first proposal was, yes. Since then, they’ve been working on safer ways to do it.”

“With only three and a half years before Ares 4’s scheduled launch, is there enough time to make and test modifications to the MDV?”

“I can’t answer that for sure. But remember, we made a lunar lander from scratch in seven years.”

“Excellent point,” Cathy smiled. “So what are her odds right now?”

“No idea,” Venkat said. “But we’re going to do everything we can to bring her home alive.”

“How’d I do today?” Venkat asked.

“Eeeh,” Annie said. “You shouldn’t say things like ‘Bring her home alive.’ It reminds people she might die.”

“Think they’re going to forget that?”

“You asked my opinion. Don’t like it? Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re such a delicate flower, Annie. How’d you end up NASA’s Communications Director?”

“Beats the fuck out of me,” Annie said.

“Guys,” said Bruce Ng, Director of JPL. “I need to catch a flight back to LA in three hours. Is Teddy coming or what?”

“Quit bitching, Bruce,” Annie said. “None of us want to be here.”

“So,” said Hermes Flight Director Mitch Henderson “Who are you, again?”

“Um,” Mindy said, “I’m Mindy Park. I work in SatCon.”

“You a director or something?”

“No, I just work in SatCon. I’m a nobody.”

Venkat looked to Mitch “I put her in charge of tracking Watney. She gets us the imagery.”

“Huh,” said Mitch. “Not the Director of SatCon?”

“Bob’s got more to deal with than just Mars. Mindy’s handling all the Martian satellites, and keeps them pointed at Maia.”

“Why Mindy?” Mitch asked.

“She noticed she was alive in the first place.”

“She gets a promotion cause she was in the hot seat when the imagery came through?”

“No,” Venkat frowned, “She gets a promotion cause she figured out she was alive. Stop being a dick, Mitch. You’re making her feel bad.”

Mitch looked over to Mindy. “Sorry.”

Mindy looked at the table and managed to say “’k.”

Teddy entered the room. “Sorry I’m late. Let’s get started,” He took his seat. “Venkat, what’s Watney’s status?”

“Alive and well,” Venkat said. “No change from my email earlier today.”

“What about the RTG. Does the public know about that yet?” Teddy asked.

Annie leaned forward. “So far, so good,” she said. “The images are public, but we have no obligation to tell them our analysis. Nobody has figured it out yet.”

“Why did she dig it up?”

“Heat, I think,” Venkat said. “She wants to make the rover do long trips. It uses a lot of energy keeping warm. The RTG can heat up the interior without soaking battery power. It’s a good idea, really.”

“How dangerous is it?” Teddy asked.

“As long as the container’s intact, no danger at all. Even if it cracks open she'll be ok if the pellets inside don't break. But if the pellets break too, she’s a dead woman.”

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Teddy said. “JPL, how are the MDV plans coming along?”

“We came up with a plan a long time ago,” Bruce said. “You rejected it.”

“Bruce,” Teddy cautioned.

Bruce sighed. “The MDV wasn’t made for liftoff and lateral flight. Packing more fuel in doesn’t help. We’d need a bigger engine and don’t have time to invent one. So we need to lighten the MDV.

“We have an idea. The MDV can be its normal weight on primary descent. If we made the heat shield and outer hull detachable, they could ditch a lot of weight after landing at Ares 3, and have a lighter ship for the traverse to Ares 4. We’re running the numbers now.”

“Keep me posted,” Teddy said. He turned to Mindy. “Miss Park. Welcome to the big leagues.”

“Sir,” Mindy said.

“What’s the biggest gap in coverage we have on Watney right now?”

“Um,” Mindy said. “Once every 41 hours, we’ll have a 17 minute gap. The orbits work out that way.”

“You had an immediate answer,” Teddy said. “Good.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I want that gap down to four minutes,” Teddy said. “I’m giving you total authority over satellite trajectories and orbital adjustments. Make it happen.”

“Yes, sir,” Mindy said, with no idea how to do it.

Teddy looked to Mitch. “Mitch, your email said you had something urgent?”

“Yeah,” Mitch said. “How long are we gonna’ keep this from the Ares 3 crew? They all think Watney’s dead. It’s a huge drain on morale.”

Teddy looked to Venkat.

“Mitch,” Venkat said. “We discussed this-“

“No, you discussed it,” Mitch interrupted. “They think they lost a crewmate. They’re devastated.”

“And when they find out they abandoned a crewmate?” Venkat asked, “Will they feel better then?”

Mitch poked the table with his finger “They deserve to know. You don’t think Commander Lewis can’t handle the truth?”

“It’s a matter of morale,” Venkat said. “They can concentrate on getting home-“

“I make that call,” Mitch said. “I’m the one who decides what’s best for the crew. And I say we bring them up to speed.”

After a few moments of silence, all eyes turned to Teddy.

He thought for a moment. “Sorry, Mitch, I’m with Venkat on this one,” he said. “But as soon as we come up with a plan for rescue, we can tell Hermes. There needs to be some hope or there’s no point in telling them.”

“Bullshit,” Mitch grumbled, crossing his arms. “Total bullshit,”

“I know you’re upset,” Teddy said calmly, “We’ll make it right. Just as soon as we have some idea how to save Watney.”

Teddy let a few seconds of calm pass before moving on.

“Ok, JPL’s on the rescue option,” he said with a nod toward Bruce. “But it would be part of Ares 4. How does she stay alive till then? Venkat?”

Venkat opened a folder and glanced at the paperwork inside. “I had every team check and double-check the longevity of their systems. We’re pretty sure the Hab can keep working for 4 years. Especially with a human occupant fixing problems as they arise. But there’s no way around the food issue. She’ll start starving in a year. We have to send her supplies. Simple as that.”

“What about an Ares 4 presupply?” Said Teddy. “Land it at Ares 3 instead.”

“That’s what we’re thinking, yeah,” Venkat confirmed. “Problem is, the original plan was to launch presupplies a year from now. They’re not ready yet.

“It takes 8 months to get a probe to Mars in the best of times. The positions of Earth and Mars right now… it’s not the best of times. We figure we can get there in 9 months. Presuming she’s rationing his food, she’s got enough to last 350 more days. That means we need to build a presupply in three months. JPL hasn’t even started yet.”

“That’ll be tight,” Bruce said. “Making a presupply is a 6 month process. We’re set up to pipeline a bunch of them at once, not to make one in a hurry.”

“Sorry, Bruce,” Teddy said. “I know we’re asking a lot, but you have to find a way.”

“We’ll find a way,” Bruce said. “But the OT alone will be a nightmare.”

“Get started. I’ll find you the money.”

“There’s also the booster,” Venkat said. “The only way to get a probe to Mars with the planets in their current positions is to spend a butt-load of fuel. We only have one booster capable of doing that. The Delta IX that’s on the pad right now for the EagleEye 3 Saturn probe. We’ll have to steal that. I talked to ULA, and they just can’t make another booster in time.”

“The EagleEye 3 team will be pissed, but ok,” said Teddy. “We can delay their mission if JPL gets the payload done in time.”

Bruce rubbed his eyes. “We’ll do our best.”

“She’ll starve to death if you don’t,” Teddy said.

Venkat sipped his coffee and frowned at his computer. A month ago it would have been unthinkable to drink coffee at 9pm. Now it was necessary fuel. Shift schedules, fund allocations, project juggling, out and out looting of other projects… he’d never pulled so many stunts in his life.

“NASA’s a large organization,” he typed. “It doesn’t deal with sudden change well. The only reason we’re getting away with it is the desperate circumstances. Everyone’s pulling together to save Maia Watney, with no interdepartmental squabbling. I can’t tell you how rare that is. Even then, this is going to cost tens of millions, maybe hundreds of millions of dollars. The MDV modifications alone are an entire project that’s being staffed up. Hopefully, the public interest will make your job easier. We appreciate your continued support, Congressman, and hope you can sway the Committee toward granting us the emergency funding we need.”

He was interrupted by a knock at his door. Looking up, he saw Mindy.

“Sorry to bother you,” Mindy said.

“No bother,” Venkat said. “I could use a break. What’s up?”

“She’s on the move,” she said.

Venkat slouched in his chair. “Any chance it’s a test drive?”

She shook her head. “She drove straight away from the Hab for almost two hours, did a short EVA, then drove for another two. We think the EVA was to change batteries.”

Venkat sighed heavily. “Maybe it’s just a longer test? An overnight trip, kind of thing?”

“She’s 76km from the Hab,” Mindy said. “For an overnight test, wouldn’t she stay within walking distance?”

“Yes she would,” Venkat said. “Damn it. We’ve had teams run every conceivable scenario. There’s just no way she can make it to Ares 4 with that set-up. We never saw her load up the Oxygenator or Water Reclaimer. She can’t possibly have enough basics to live long enough.”

“I don’t think she’s going to Ares 4,” Mindy said. “If she is, she’s taking a weird path.”

“Oh?” said Venkat

“She went south-southwest. Schiaparelli Crater is southeast.”

“Ok, maybe there’s hope,” Venkat said. “What’s she doing right now?”

“Recharging. She’s got all the solar cells set up,” Mindy said. “Last time she did that, it took 12 hours. I was going to sneak home for some sleep if that’s ok.”

“Sure, sounds good. We’ll see what she does tomorrow. Maybe she’ll go back to the Hab.”

“Maybe,” Mindy said, unconvinced.

“Welcome back,” Cathy said to the camera. “We’re chatting with Marcus Washington, from the US Postal Service. So, Mr. Washington, I understand the Ares 3 mission caused a Postal Service first. Can you explain to our viewers?”

“Uh yeah,” said Marcus. “Everyone thought she was dead for over two months. In that time, the Postal Service issued a run of commemorative stamps honoring her memory. 20,000 were printed, and sent to post offices around the country.”

“And then it turned out she was alive,” Cathy said.

“Yeah,” said Marcus. “We stopped the run immediately and recalled the stamps, but thousands were already sold. The thing is, we don’t print stamps of living people.”

“Has this ever happened before?” Cathy asked.

“No. Not once in the history of the Postal Service.”

“I bet they’re worth a pretty penny now.”

Marcus chuckled. “Maybe. But not too much. Like I said, thousands were sold. They’ll be rare, but not super rare.”

Cathy chuckled then addressed the camera. “We’ve been speaking with Marcus Washington of the United States Postal Service. If you’ve got a Maia Watney commemorative stamp, you might want to hold on to it. Thanks for dropping by, Mr. Washington.”

“Thanks for having me,” Marcus said.

“Our next guest is Dr. Irene Shields, Flight Psychologist for the Ares missions. Dr. Shields, welcome to the program.”

“Thank you,” Irene said, adjusting her microphone clip.

“Do you know Maia Watney personally?”

“Of course,” Irene said. “I did monthly psych evaluations on each member of the crew.”

“What can you tell us about her? Her personality, her mindset?”

“Well,” Irene said, “She’s very intelligent. All of them are, of course. But she’s particularly resourceful and a good problem-solver.”

“That may save her life,” Cathy interjected.

“It may indeed,” Irene agreed. “Also, she’s a good-natured woman. Usually cheerful, with a great sense of humor. She’s quick with a joke. In the months leading up to launch, the crew was put through a grueling training schedule. They all showed signs of stress and moodiness. Maia was no exception, but the way she showed it was to crack more jokes and get everyone laughing.”

“She sounds like a great girl,” Cathy said.

“She really is,” Irene said. “She was chosen for the mission in part because of her personality. An Ares crew has to spend 13 months together. Social compatibility is key. Maia not only fits well in any social group, she’s a catalyst to make the group work better. It was a terrible blow to the crew when she ‘died.’”

“And they still think she’s dead, right? The Ares 3 crew?”

“Yes they do, unfortunately,” Irene confirmed. “The higher-ups decided to keep it from them, at least for now. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision.”

Cathy paused for a moment, then said. “All right. You know I have to ask: What’s going through her head right now? How does a woman like Maia Watney respond to a situation like this? Stranded, alone, no idea we’re trying to help?”

“There’s no way to be sure,” Irene said. “The biggest threat is giving up hope. If she decides there’s no chance to survive, she’ll stop trying.”

“Then we’re ok for now, right?” Cathy said. “She seems to be working hard. She’s prepping the rover for a long trip and testing it. She plans to be there when Ares 4 lands.”

“That’s one interpretation, yes,” Irene said.

“Is there another?”

Irene carefully formed her answer before speaking. “When facing death, people want to be heard. They don’t want to die alone. She might just want the MAV radio so she can talk to another soul before she dies.

“If she’s lost hope, she won’t care about survival. Her only concern will be making it to the radio. After that, she’ll probably take an easier way out than starvation. The medical supplies of an Ares mission have enough morphine to be lethal.”

After several seconds of complete silence in the studio, Cathy turned to the camera. “We’ll be right back.”

“Heya, Venk,” came Bruce’s voice from the speakerphone.

“Bruce, Hi,” said Venkat. “Thanks for clearing up some time. I wanted to talk about the presupply.”

“Sure thing. What’s on your mind?”

“Let’s say we soft-land it perfectly. How will Maia know it happened? And how will she know where to look?”

“We’ve been thinking about that,” said Bruce. “We’ve got some ideas.”

“I’m all ears,” Venkat said.

“We’ll be sending her a comm system anyway, right? We could have it turn on after lading. It’ll broadcast on the rover and EVA suit frequencies. It’ll have to be a strong signal, too.

“The rovers were only designed to communicate with the Hab and each other; the signal origin was presumed to be within 20km. The receivers just aren’t very sensitive. The EVA suits are even worse. But as long as we have a strong signal we should be good.

“Once we land the presupply, we’ll get its exact location from satellites, then broadcast that to Maia so she can go get it.”

“But she’s probably not listening,” said Venkat. “Why would she be?”

“We have a plan for that. We’re going to make a bunch of bright green ribbons. Light enough to flutter around when dropped, even in Mars’s atmosphere. Each ribbon will have ‘MAIA: TURN ON YOUR COMM’ printed on it. We’re working on a release mechanism now. During the landing sequence, of course. Ideally, about 1000 meters above the surface.”

“I like it,” Venkat said. “All she needs to do is notice one. And she’s sure to check out a bright green ribbon if she sees one outside.”

“That’s what we’re thinking,” said Bruce.

“All right, good work. Keep me posted,” Venkat said.

“Venk,” said Bruce. “If she takes the ‘Watneymobile’ to Ares 4, this’ll all be for nothing. I mean, we can land it at Ares 4 if that happens, but…”

“But she’ll be without a Hab. Yeah,” Venkat said. “One thing at a time. Let me know when you come up with a release mechanism for those ribbons.”

“Will do.”

After terminating the call, he saw an email from Mindy Park arrive. “Watney’s on the move again.”

“Still going in a straight line,” Mindy said, pointing to her monitor.

“I see,” Venkat said. “She’s sure as hell not going to Ares 4. Unless she’s going around some natural obstacle.”

“There’s nothing for her to go around,” Mindy said. “It’s Acidalia Planitia.”

“Are those the solar cells?” Venkat asked, pointing to the screen.

“Yeah,” Mindy said. “She did the usual 2 hour drive, EVA, 2 hour drive. She’s 156km from the Hab now.”

They both peered at the screen.

“Wait…” Venkat said. “Wait, no way…”

“What?” Mindy asked.

Venkat grabbed a pad of Post-Its and a pen. “Give me her location, and the location of the Hab.”

Mindy checked her screen. “She’s currently at… 28.9°N, 29.6°W.” With a few keystrokes, she brought up another file. “The Hab’s at 31.2°N, 28.5°W. What do you see?”

Venkat finished taking down the numbers. “Come with me,” he said, quickly walking out.

“Um,” Mindy stammered, following after. “Where are we going?” She asked when she caught up.

“SatCon break room,” Venkat said. “You guys still have that map of Mars on the wall?”

“Sure,” Mindy said. “But it’s just a poster from the gift shop. I’ve got high quality digital maps on my computer-“

“Nope. I can’t draw on those,” he said. Then, rounding the corner to the break room, he pointed to the Mars map on the wall. “I can draw on that.”

The break room was empty save a computer technician sipping a cup of coffee. The urgency of Venkat and Mindy’s entrance caught his attention.

“Good, it has latitude and longitude lines,” Venkat said. Looking at his Post-It, then sliding his finger along the map, he drew an X. “That’s the Hab,” he said.

“Hey,” the technician said. “Are you drawing on our poster?”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Venkat said without looking back. Then, he drew another X. “That’s his current location. Get me a ruler.”

Mindy looked left and right. Seeing no ruler, she grabbed the technicians notebook.

“Hey!” The technician protested.

Using the notebook as a straight-edge, Venkat drew a line from the Hab to Maia’s location and beyond. Then took a step back.

“Yup! That’s where she’s going!” Venkat said excitedly.

“Oh!” Mindy said.

The line passed through the exact center of a bright yellow dot printed on the map.

“Pathfinder!” Mindy said. “She’s going to Pathfinder!”

“Yup!” Venkat said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. It’s like 800km from her. She can get there and back with supplies on-hand.”

“And bring Pathfinder and Sojourner Rover back with her,” Mindy added.

Venkat quickly pulled out his cell phone. “We lost contact with it in 1997. If she can get it online again, we can communicate. It might just need the solar cells cleaned. Even if it’s got a bigger problem, she’s an engineer!” Dialing, he added “Fixing shit is her job!”

Smiling for the first time in weeks, he held the phone to his ear and awaited a response. “Bruce? It’s Venkat. Everything just changed. Watney’s headed for Pathfinder. Yeah! I know, right!? Dig up everyone who was on that project and get them to JPL now. I’ll catch the next flight.”

Hanging up, he grinned at the map. “Maia, you sneaky, clever, son of a bitch!”

#the martian #the martian andy weir #lgbt #lesbian rewrites #lesbiansafe

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lesbianrewrites · 8 years ago

Text

The Martian Chapter 12

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page.

This is a Lesbian edit of The Martian by Andy Weir.

Chapters will be posted every day at 2pm EST.

Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

CHAPTER XII

Watney slept peacefully in her bunk. She shifted slightly as some pleasant dream put a smile on her face. The previous day had been particularly labor-intensive, so she slept deeper and better than she had in a long time. “Good morning crew!” Lewis called out. “It’s a brand new day! Up and at ‘em!” Watney added her voice to a chorus of groans. “Come on,” Lewis prodded, “no bitching. You got 40 minutes more sleep than you would’ve on Earth.” Martinez was first out of his bunk. An Air-Force man, he could match Lewis’s Navy schedule with ease. “Morning, Commander,” he said crisply. Johanssen sat up, but made no further move toward the harsh world outside her blankets. A career software-engineer, mornings were never her forte. Vogel slowly lumbered from his bunk, checking his watch. He wordlessly pulled on his jumpsuit, smoothing out what wrinkles he could. He sighed inwardly at the grimy feeling of another day without a shower. Watney turned away from the noise, hugging a pillow to her head. “Noisy people go away,” she mumbled. “Beck!” Martinez called out, shaking the mission’s doctor. “Rise and shine, bud!” “Yeah, ok,” Beck said blearily. Johanssen fell out of her bunk, then remained on the floor. Pulling the pillow from Watney’s hands, Lewis said “Let’s move, Watney! Uncle Sam paid $100,000 for every second we’ll be here.” “Bad woman take pillow,” Watney groaned, unwilling to open her eyes. “Back on Earth, I’ve tipped 200-pound men out of their bunks. Want to see what I can do in 0.4g?” “No, not really,” Watney said, sitting up. Having rousted the troops, Lewis sat at the comm station to check overnight messages from Houston. Watney shuffled to the ration cupboard and grabbed a breakfast at random. “Hand me an ‘eggs’, will ya,” Martinez said. “You can tell the difference?” Watney said, passing Martinez a pack. “Not really,” Martinez said. “Beck, what’ll you have?” Watney continued. “Don’t care,” Beck said. “Give me whatever.” Watney tossed a pack to him. “Vogel, your usual sausages?” “Ja, please,” Vogel responded. “You know you’re a stereotype, right?” “I am comfortable with that,” Vogel replied, taking the proffered breakfast. “Hey Sunshine,” Watney called to Johanssen. “Eating breakfast today?” “Mnrrn,” Johanssen grunted. “Pretty sure that’s a no,” Watney guessed. The crew ate in silence. Johanssen eventually trudged to the ration cupboard and got a coffee packet. Clumsily adding hot water, she sipped it until wakefulness crept in. “Mission updates from Houston,” Lewis said. “Satellites show a storm coming, but we can do surface ops before it gets here. Vogel, Martinez, you’ll be with me outside. Johanssen, you’re stuck tracking weather reports. Watney, your soil experiments are bumped up to today. Beck, run the samples from yesterday’s EVA through the spectrometer.” “Should you really go out with a storm on the way?” Beck asked. “Houston authorized it,” Lewis said. “Seems needlessly dangerous.” “Coming to Mars was needlessly dangerous,” Lewis said. “What’s your point?” Beck shrugged. “Just be careful.” Three figures looked eastward. Their bulky EVA suits rendered them nearly identical. Only the European Union flag on Vogel’s shoulder distinguished him from Lewis and Martinez, who donned the Stars and Stripes. The darkness to the east undulated and flickered in the rays of the rising sun. “The storm.” Vogel said in his accented English. “It is closer than Houston reported.” “We’ve got time,” Lewis said. “Focus on the task at hand. This EVA’s all about chemical analysis. Vogel, you’re the chemist, so you’re in charge of what we dig up.” “Ja,” Vogel said. “Please dig 30 centimeters and get soil samples. At least 100 grams each. Very important is 30 centimeters down.” “Will do.” Lewis said. “Stay within 100 meters of the Hab,” she added. “Mm,” Vogel said. “Yes, Ma’am,” said Martinez. They split up. Greatly improved since the days of Apollo, Ares EVA suits allowed much more freedom of motion. Digging, bending over, and bagging samples were trivial tasks. After a time, Lewis asked “How many samples do you need?” “Seven each, perhaps?” “That’s fine,” Lewis confirmed. “I’ve got four so far.” “Five here,” Martinez said. “Of course, we can’t expect the Navy to keep up with the Air Force, now can we?” “So that’s how you want to play it?” Lewis said. “Just call ‘em as I see ‘em Commander.” “Johanssen here,” came the sysop’s voice over the radio. “Houston’s upgraded the storm to ‘severe’. It’s going to be here in 15 minutes.” “Back to base,” Lewis said. The Hab shook in the roaring wind as the astronauts huddled in the center. All six of donned their EVA suits in case of a breach. Johanssen watched her laptop while the rest watched her. “Sustained winds over 100kph now,” she said. “Gusting to 125.” “Jesus, we’re gonna end up in Oz,” Watney said. “What’s the abort windspeed?” “Technically 150kph,” Martinez said. “Any more than that and the MAV’s in danger of tipping.” “Any predictions on the storm track?” Lewis asked. “This is the edge of it,” Johanssen said, staring at her screen. “It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.” The Hab canvas rippled under the brutal assault as the internal supports bent and shivered with each gust. The cacophony grew louder by the minute. “All right,” Lewis said. “Prep for abort. We’ll go to the MAV and hope for the best. If the wind gets too high, we’ll launch.” Leaving the Hab in pairs, they grouped up outside airlock 1. The driving wind and sand battered them, but they were able to stay on their feet. “Visibility is almost zero,” Lewis said. “If you get lost, home in on my suit’s telemetry. The wind’s gonna be rougher away from the Hab, so be ready.” Pressing through the gale, they stumbled toward the MAV. “Hey,” Watney panted, “Maybe we could shore up the MAV. Make tipping less likely.” “How?” Lewis huffed. “We could use cables from the solar farm as guy lines.” He wheezed for a few moments, then continued. “The rovers could be anchors. The trick would be getting the line around the-“ Flying wreckage slammed Watney, carrying her off into the wind. “Watney!” Johanssen exclaimed. “What happened?” Lewis said. “Something hit her!” Johanssen reported. “Watney, report,” Lewis said. No reply. “Watney, report,” Lewis repeated. Again, she was met with silence. “She’s offline,” Johanssen reported. “I don’t know where she is!” “Commander,” Beck said, “Before we lost telemetry, her decompression alarm went off!” “Shit!” Lewis exclaimed. “Johanssen where did you last see her?” “She was right in front of me and then she was gone,” she said. “She flew off due west.” “Ok,” Lewis said. “Martinez, get to the MAV and prep for launch. Everyone else, home in on Johanssen.” “Doctor Beck,” Vogel said as he stumbled through the storm, “How long can a person survive decompression?” “Less than a minute,” Beck said, emotion choking his voice. “I can’t see anything,” Johanssen said as the crew crowded around her. “Line up and walk west,” Lewis commanded. “Small steps. She’s probably prone; we don’t want to step over her.” Staying in sight of one another, they trudged through the chaos. Martinez fell in to the MAV airlock and forced it closed against the wind. Once it pressurized he quickly doffed his suit. Climbing the ladder to the crew compartment, he slid in to the pilot’s couch and booted the system. Grabbing the emergency-launch checklist with one hand, he flicked switches rapidly with the other. One by one, the systems reported flight-ready status. As they came online, he noted one in particular. “Commander,” he radioed, “The MAV’s got a 7 degree tilt. It’ll tip at 12.3.” “Copy that,” Lewis said. “Johanssen,” Beck said, looking at his arm computer, “Watney’s bio-monitor sent something before going offline. My computer just says ‘Bad Packet.’” “I have it, too,” Johanssen said. “It didn’t finish transmitting. Some data’s missing and there’s no checksum. Gimme a sec.” “Commander,” Martinez said. “Message from Houston. We’re officially scrubbed. The storm’s definitely gonna be too rough.” “Copy,” Lewis said. “They sent that four and a half minutes ago,” Martinez continued, “while looking at satellite data from nine minutes ago.” “Understood,” Lewis said. “Continue prepping for launch.” “Copy,” Martinez said. “Beck,” Johanssen said. “I have the raw packet. It’s plaintext: BP 0, PR 0, TP 36.2. That’s as far as it got.” “Copy,” Beck said morosely. “Blood pressure 0, pulse rate 0, temperature normal.” The channel fell silent for some time. They continued pressing forward, shuffling through the sandstorm, hoping for a miracle. “Temperature normal?” Lewis said, a hint of hope in her voice. “It takes a while for the-“ Beck stammered. “It takes a while to cool.” “Commander,” Martinez said. “Tilting at 10.5 degrees now, with gusts pushing it to 11.” “Copy,” Lewis said. “Are you at pilot-release?” “Affirmative,” Martinez replied. “I can launch any time.” “If it tips, can you launch before it falls completely over?” “Uh,” Martinez said, not expecting the question. “Yes Ma’am. I’d take manual control and go full throttle. Then I’d nose up and return to pre-programmed ascent.” “Copy that,” Lewis said. “Everyone home in on Martinez’s suit. That’ll get you to the MAV airlock. Get in and prep for launch.” “What about you, Commander?” Beck asked. “I’m searching a little more. Get moving. And Martinez, if you start to tip, launch.” “You really think I’ll leave you behind?” Martinez said. “I just ordered you to,” Lewis replied. “You three, get to the ship.” They reluctantly obeyed Lewis’s order, and made their way toward the MAV. The punishing wind fought them every step of the way. Unable to see the ground, Lewis shuffled forward. Remembering something, she reached to her back and got a pair of rock-drill bits. She had added the 1-meter bits to her equipment that morning, anticipating geological sampling later in the day. Holding one in each hand, she dragged them along the ground as she walked. After 20 meters, she turned around and walked the opposite direction. Walking a straight line proved to be impossible. Not only did she lack visual references, the endless wind pushed her off course. The sheer volume of attacking sand buried her feet with each step. Grunting, she pressed on. Beck, Johanssen, and Vogel squeezed in to the MAV airlock. Designed for two, it could be used by three in emergencies. As it equalized, Lewis’s voice came over the radio. “Johanssen,” she said. “Would the rover IR camera do any good?” “Negative,” Johanssen replied. “IR can’t get through sand any better than visible light.” “What’s she thinking?” Beck asked after removing his helmet. “She’s a geologist. She knows IR can’t get through a sandstorm.” “She is grasping,” Vogel said, opening the inner door. “We must get to the couches. Please hurry.” “I don’t feel good about this,” Beck said. “Neither do I, Doctor,” said Vogel, climbing the ladder. “But the Commander has given us orders. Insubordination will not help.” “Commander,” Martinez radioed, “We’re tilting 11.6 degrees. One good gust and we’re tipping.” “What about the proximity radar?” Lewis said, “Could it detect Watney’s suit?” “No way,” Martinez said. “It’s made to see Hermes in orbit, not the metal in a single space suit.” “Give it a try,” Lewis said. “Commander,” said Beck, putting on a headset as he slid in to his acceleration couch. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but Watn-… Maia’s dead.” “Copy,” Lewis said. “Martinez, try the radar.” “Roger,” Martinez radioed. Bringing the radar online, he waited for it to complete a self check. Glaring at Beck, he said “What’s the matter with you?” “My friend just died,” Beck answered. “And I don’t want my Commander to die too.” Martinez gave him a stern look. Turning his attention back to the radar, he radioed “Negative contact on proximity radar.” “Nothing?” Lewis asked. “It can barely see the Hab,” he replied. “The sandstorm’s fucking things up. Even if it wasn’t, there’s not enough metal in- Shit!” “Strap in!” he yelled to the crew. “We’re tipping!” The MAV began to creaking as it tilted faster and faster. “13 degrees,” Johanssen called out from her couch. Buckling his restraints, Vogel said “We are far past balance. We will not rock back.” “We can’t leave her!” Beck yelled. “Let it tip, we’ll fix it!” “32 metric tons including fuel,” Martinez said, his hands flying over the controls. “If it hits the ground, it’ll do structural damage to the tanks, frame, and probably the second stage engine. We’d never be able to fix it.” “You can’t abandon her!” Beck said. “You can’t.” “I’ve got one trick. If that doesn’t work, I’m following her orders.” Bringing the Orbital Maneuvering System online, he fired a sustained burn from the nosecone array. The small thrusters fought against the lumbering mass of the slowly tilting spacecraft. “You are firing the OMS?” Vogel asked. “I don’t know if it’ll work. We’re not tipping very fast,” Martinez said. “I think it’s slowing down…” “The aerodynamic caps will have automatically ejected.” Vogel said. “It will be a bumpy ascent with three holes in the side of the ship.” “Thanks for the tip,” Martinez said, maintaining the burn and watching the tilt readout. “C’mon…” “Still 13 degrees,” Johanssen reported. “What’s going on up there?” Lewis radioed. “You went quiet. Respond.” “Standby,” Martinez replied. “12.9 degrees,” Johanssen said. “It is working,” Vogel said. “For now,” Martinez said. “I don’t know if maneuvering fuel will last.” “12.8 now.” Johanssen supplied. “OMS fuel at 60 percent,” Beck said. “How much do you need to dock with Hermes?” “10 percent if I don’t fuck anything up,” Martinez said, adjusting the thrust angle. “12.6,” Johanssen said. “We’re tipping back.” “Or the wind died down a little,” Beck postulated. “Fuel at 45 percent.” “There is danger of damage to the vents,” Vogel cautioned. “The OMS was not made for prolonged thrusts,” “I know,” Martinez said. “I can dock without nose vents if I have to.” “Almost there…” Johanssen said. “Ok we’re under 12.3.” “OMS cutoff,” Martinez announced, terminating the burn. “Still tipping back,” Johanssen said. “11.6… 11.5… holding at 11.5” “OMS Fuel at 22 percent,” Beck said. “Yeah, I see that,” Martinez replied. “It’ll be enough.” “Commander,” Beck radioed. “You need to get to the ship now.” “Agreed,” Martinez radioed. “She’s gone, Ma’am. Watney’s gone.” The four crewmates awaited their commander’s response. “Copy,” she finally replied. “On my way.” They lay in silence, strapped to their couches and ready for launch. Beck looked at Watney’s empty couch and saw Vogel doing the same. Martinez ran a self-check on the nosecone OMS thrusters. They were no longer safe for use. He noted the malfunction in his log. The airlock cycled. After removing her suit, Lewis made her way to the flight cabin. She wordlessly strapped into her couch, her face a frozen mask. Only Martinez dared speak. “Still at pilot release,” he said quietly. “Ready for launch.” Lewis closed her eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry, Commander,” Martinez said. “You need to verbally-” “Launch,” she said. “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, activating the sequence. The retaining clamps ejected from the launch gantry, falling to the ground. Seconds later, preignition pyros fired, igniting the main engines, and the MAV lurched upward. The ship slowly gained speed. As it did, wind-sheer blew it laterally off course. Sensing the problem, the ascent software angled the ship into the wind to counteract it. As fuel was consumed, the ship got lighter, and the acceleration more pronounced. Rising at this exponential rate, the craft quickly reached maximum acceleration. A limit defined not by the ship’s power, but by the delicate human bodies inside. As the ship soared, the open OMS ports took their toll. The crew rocked in their couches as the craft shook violently. Martinez and the ascent software kept it trim, though it was a constant battle. The turbulence tapered off and eventually fell to nothing as the atmosphere became thinner and thinner. Suddenly, all force stopped. The first stage had completed. The crew experienced weightlessness for several seconds, then were pressed back in to their couches as the next stage began. Outside, the now-empty first stage fell away, eventually to crash on some unknown area of the planet below. The second stage pushed the ship ever higher, and in to low orbit. Lasting less time than the massive first stage, and running much smoother, it seemed almost like an afterthought. Abruptly, the engine stopped, and an oppressive calm replaced the previous cacophony. “Main engine shutdown,” Martinez said. “Ascent time: 8 minutes, 14 seconds. On course for Hermes intercept.” Normally, an incident-free launch would be cause for celebration. This one earned only silence broken by Johanssen’s gentle sobbing. Four months later… NASA was loathe to waste research time. Trips to and from Mars were as busy as surface operations. The crew had almost caught up with the backlog of work. The schedule had been made for six, not five. Beck tried not to think about the painful reason he was doing zero-g plant growth experiments. He noted the size and shape of the fern leaves, took photos, and made notes. Having completed his science schedule for the day, he checked his watch. Perfect timing. The data dump would be completing soon. He floated past the reactor to the Semicone-A ladder. Traveling feet-first along the ladder, he soon had to grip it in earnest as the centripetal force of the rotating ship took hold. By the time he reached Semicone-A he was at 0.4g. No mere luxury, the artificial gravity kept them fit. Without it, they would have spent their first week on Mars barely able to walk. Exercise regimens could keep the heart and bones healthy, but none had been devised that would give them full function from Sol 1. Because the ship was already designed for it, they used the system on the return trip as well. Johanssen sat at her station. Lewis sat in the adjacent seat while Vogel and Martinez hovered nearby. The data dump carried emails and videos from home. It was the high point of the day. “Is it here yet?” Back asked as he entered the bridge. “Almost,” Johanssen said. “98%.” “You’re looking cheerful, Martinez,” Beck said. “My son turned three yesterday,” He beamed. “Should be some pics of the party. How about you?” “Nothing special,” Beck said. “Peer-reviews of a paper I wrote a few years back.” “Complete,” Johanssen said. “All the personal emails are dispatched to your laptops. Also there’s a telemetry update for Vogel and a system update for me. Huh… there’s a voice message addressed to the whole crew.” She looked over her shoulder to Lewis. Lewis shrugged. “Play it.” Johanssen opened the message, then sat back. “Hermes, this is Mitch Henderson,” the message began. “Henderson?” Martinez said, puzzled. “Talking directly to us without CAPCOM?” Lewis held her hand up to signal for silence. “I have some news,” Mitch’s voice continued, “There’s no subtle way to put this: Maia Watney’s still alive.” Johanssen gasped. “Wha-“ Beck stammered. Vogel stood agape as a shocked expression swept across his face. Martinez looked to Lewis. She leaned forward and pinched her chin. “I know that’s a surprise,” Mitch continued. “And I know you’ll have a lot of questions. We’re going to answer those questions. But for now I’ll just give you the basics. “She’s alive and healthy. We found out two months ago and decided not to tell you; we even censored personal messages. I was strongly against all that. We’re telling you now because we finally have communication with her and a viable rescue plan. It boils down to Ares 4 picking her up with a modified MDV. “We’ll get you a full write-up of what happened, but it’s definitely not your fault. Maia stresses that every time it comes up. It was just bad luck. “Take some time to absorb this. Your science schedules are cleared for tomorrow. Send all the questions you want and we’ll answer them. Henderson out.” The message’s end brought stunned silence to the bridge. “She…She’s alive?” Martinez said, then smiled. Vogel nodded excitedly. “She lives.” Johanssen stared at her screen in wide-eyed disbelief. “Holy shit,” Beck laughed. “Holy shit! Commander! She’s alive!” “I left her behind,” Lewis said quietly. The celebrations ceased immediately as the crew saw their commander’s inconsolable expression. “But,” Beck began, “We all left togeth-“ “You followed orders,” Lewis interrupted. “I left her behind. In a barren, unreachable, godforsaken wasteland.” Beck looked to Martinez pleadingly. Martinez opened his mouth, but could find no words to say. Lewis trudged off the bridge.

#the martian #the martian andy weir #lgbt #lesbian rewrites #lesbiansafe

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