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chris-aok · 6 months ago

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Apple Intelligence

There have been three major milestones to computing in the past 50 years:

The PC revolution of the 70s and 80s

The Internet boom of the 90s

The mobile revolution of the 2000s

Apple has played a major part in two of those milestones: The PC revolution and the mobile revolution. Because they are a hardware manufacturer, this makes sense.

There may be a fourth milestone brewing: The AI revolution.

I say "may" because we're in the middle of it right now, and I still can't tell if it's hype or genuinely going to change computing for all time. However, if I am optimistic, let's assume there's going to be an AI revolution. Apple will possibly play a major part in it.

OpenAI, Microsoft, Anthropic, and Google can be said to be major players in the AI space in 2024. One might even say OpenAI is the most important player in this space today.

However, if history has taught us anything about how Apple operates and enters existing spaces: They popularize and bring about mass adoption of existing technologies, time and again; eventually eclipsing other players and redefining markets and product categories for years to follow.

OpenAI has done a good job of doing this for AI so far.

However, when Apple announced last week that they were bringing AI to not one, but three of their platforms/operating systems (macOS, iOS, and iPadOS), they made it clear their silence on AI over the past few years had more to do with them working on getting things ready than inaction.

Apple's approach with Apple Intelligence is one I very much welcome: AI with privacy baked in.

Privacy has been a concern of mine with existing AI platforms since they've become popular in recent years.

With their approach of triaging requests and sending them to the right place as appropriate, I feel better about using Apple Intelligence:

Simple and quick-to-execute requests on-device

More complex requests sent to Apple's Private Cloud Compute

Requests better handled by an external AI sent to a 3rd-party AI only after first obtaining approval from the user (Only OpenAI's ChatGPT at time of launch)

But my tinfoil-hat wearing ass aside, their approach is what's likely to make use of AI more common than any other effort made to date: It's going to become ubiquitous throughout the operating systems and apps people use. That's the secret sauce.

Working on an email you need to sound professional? You don't need to open a browser or app to interact with an AI. It's going to be accessible directly from where you're working and integrate into your workflow.

Working on some equations you wrote by hand and need help visualizing answers or graphs? You don't have to go somewhere else, Apple Intelligence works right from the hand-written notes.

This kind of integration at the system-level is what is needed to make AI useful and powerful: Useful by allowing it access to your personal information so it can understand your personal context and powerful by having the freedom to execute on your behalf throughout the system. Unless OpenAI builds their own hardware and operating system in the years to come, they'll always be limited to executing requests that lack your personal context. They'll know the world, but they won't know you.

The only companies that would truly be able to make a powerful, personal AI are Microsoft, Google, and Apple. They each have the desktop, but only Google and Apple have mobile as well. However, If history ends up repeating itself, Apple will popularize use of AI more than Google and Microsoft will.

Exciting times.

Regarding Apple's Private Cloud Compute, I have some predictions:

It's only going to be around for a limited amount of time. When the processors in Apple devices become powerful enough to execute more complex requests on-device and those powerful devices have reached a sufficiently high percentage of active devices (70%?), they'll retire Private Cloud Compute

Or, even as most Apple devices improve to handle more complex requests on-device, Apple keeps expanding the capabilities of Private Cloud Compute to handle even more advanced requests, always staying ahead of what can be executed on-device

Or, even if most Apple devices improve to handle more complex requests on-device, Apple keeps expanding the capabilities of Private Cloud Compute to make it so you never need a 3rd-party AI like ChatGPT

I look forward to seeing which prediction comes true. I'm even ok if it ends up being 4: Something I couldn't predict because I can never really predict what Apple is going to do.

For years, I saw Apple release processors with neural engines that could do machine learning and I saw no immediate benefit for most of its users. Sure, it meant some scientists and researchers could use it; and maybe some few isolated apps could make use of it; but most people didn't need it. Why include it?

Then they came out with their own silicon for desktops and laptops and were still talking about neural engines and I still didn't understand why.

It wasn't until they came out with Apple Intelligence that I had to remind myself yet again that Apple always plays the long game: They were thinking about AI long-before most of us had heard of ChatGPT. They were building the foundations that would be required for Apple Intelligence years ago.

This isn't the first time they've done this sort of thing: Delivering the foundational technologies for a major breakthrough years before anybody understood why.

As a casual observer of the tech. industry, it's a pleasure to watch Apple work for this reason: You never know when they'll make a giant reveal years in the making, recontextualizing everything that preceded.

I look forward to trying Apple Intelligence first hand when it comes out later this year. Based on the devices I own, it'll only be available for my desktop and laptop, but that's ok: If it gets me to use AI more, I may be sufficiently motivated to get more recent mobile devices to use AI there as well.

We'll see.

#post #tech #apple #AI

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prof-peach · 4 years ago

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Hello professor!

I run a research and rehabilitation center for Ghost types, and I'm somewhat perplexed by a shiny phantump which has recently come into my care.

According to the ranger base that sent him my way he was rejected by his mother, likely due to his coloration, and found entirely alone. Rare in ghost types as they tend to form strong attachments, but sadly not unheard of. Now, introducing pokemon who have never known others of their own kind can be a nightmare (Gastly, for example, tend to mistake the smog released by others for food) but I've never had too much trouble with phantump.

Until this little guy, that is. He has adamantly refused to play with the other phantump, instead clinging to me like a baby komala and wanting to be carried everywhere. Not unusual for insecure phantump, but he seemed entirely unresponsive to my usual techniques for building confidence. After bribing him with some treats and getting my gengar to translate, he confessed to being extremely insecure about his appearance.

I'm unsure if this was brought on by overhearing the rangers theorizing about why he was abandoned, but he's acutely aware that he doesn't look like the other phantump. The little guy is, understandably, terrified of being rejected again, and his social anxiety is through the roof. I've since begin socializing him with some shuppet, and the calmest and most secure phantump in my grove on a one-on-one basis. My local pokemon center has alsi provided me with a mineral powder that I apply to his bark, which makes it look browner and also helps protect against fungal infections.

This has helped him come out of his shell a little, but he's still terribly insecure about his red leaves. I'm reaching out to you as I am, embarrassingly, not very familliar with grass types. I've been told that, as the forests they dwell in are so dark, they don't need to photosynthezise to remain healthy. Still, I'm definitely hesitant to let him simply cover up his leaves. Is there something that could be applied to them, like "hair dye" essentially, that would be safe for my little guy to use until I can build his confidence up to where he's comfortable with his natural splendor?

Alrighty! So this is suuuuper common, shiny Pokemon can feel quite alienated at times for their colourations and general demeanour. For this particular case I’d advise you do a couple things to settle their nerves, some easy, some perhaps a little more tricky.

So, let’s start easy, the foliage is red, this is not only common in some shiny Pokemon, but also in some variant Pokemon, AND actual plants. Where you are, you may have limited access naturally to plants that are red pigmented. Go to a garden centre or nursery, splash a bit of cash and get some seeds, plants, shrubs and trees that are red. Plant them in an adequate accessible area that the phantump can get to with ease. You can find photinia, Berberis, acers, ivy, heuchera, hibiscus, even hazels which will give you nuts for yourself and Pokemon to enjoy come autumn. The red pigment is common, and we find proving this, even in plant form to Pokemon who are also uncommonly red, makes them begin to see their colour as a more normal and acceptable thing. This space will also give them a safe zone where they feel capable of camouflage, and this will instil a sense of security in them, even if they don’t first notice it straight away. Ask the garden centre workers for help should you not know where to plant certain things, or what would suit your location specifically, but there’s a lot to be said about a good old fashioned google, should you feel a little lost about the needs these plants may need.

This red zone seems trivial perhaps, but we’ve studied the effects this has on Pokemon with the very same issue you’re dealing with, and when given the choice, they go and hang out in the red plants far more than the green ones, should they share the same pigments. It helps individuals feel safe, and shows them that red isn’t bad, it’s just different to green, but equally functional, beautiful and capable.

NOW here’s the harder job that will help them gain some serious confidence, but is sure fire with time and patience.

You need to find an organisation, breeder, wild group, or trainer who also has a Pokemon with red pigments. Shiny Pokemon are rare but variants are far easier to find, and you can find red colourations in many grass types, ranging from Bulbasaur through to Eldegoss, and everything in between. The only criteria necessary for this to work for the phantump, is that the helper Pokemon need to be ok with youngsters, ie non hostile, and confident in themselves. There is endless research, countless papers, and a million studies, all proving that putting a Pokemon who is typically different but nervous about that, with others who are different but confident, will boost the nervous pokemons confidence tenfold given time. Many grass specialists exist around the various regions, so get on the internet or ask at local Pokemon centres and the likes, see what you can find close by, and organise socialising sessions for the phantump to mix with these other red pigment Pokemon. This whole process will take anything up to a year or two, just continuous care, repetition, and mixing with social confident Pokemon like themselves.

I’ll say right now, this is harder with phantump, ghost Pokemon can be a little more nervous, sometimes skittish, so y’all just need some patience with them, it’s hard to feel like you’re different from those around you, so put yourself in their shoes and just take things one day at a time.

I will also offer our labs services should you struggle to find somewhere local, we can make room for the little fella should you have no other options, though it is best to keep them in a location they feel more comfortable with, at least at the start. They’d have a chance to meet not only a huge number of other Pokemon who are red pigmented, but also we have one other shiny phantump in our care who has no issue with his physical appearance thanks to exactly the methods I’ve suggested above. Once they’ve gained confidence we would return them to your care, with a far more robust outlook on life.

With this in mind, weigh out your options, and try to show them others like themselves, be them plant or Pokemon, who have a bit more confidence to pass on words of wisdom, support, and company. This issue can indeed be resolved, it just can be a little tricky if you’re new to this species temperament when they feel isolated or self conscious like yours does. Covering up who they are is a temporary fix, and will not install long term confidence in themselves, dyes for plant matter are a little dangerous when over used, and can damage leaves and healthy growth, we don’t advise it in grass types too much to avoid damaging their soft squishy parts.

Good luck and hopefully you can find more just like them, to show them that it’s ok to be red, it’s not unusual, or wrong, and plenty of things have that pigmentation.

#pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks

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nct-oli · 4 years ago

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I also miss atots! I wanna read your ramblings so may I ask what are some of your head canon for phutian whether it’s during the series or post-series.

HI!! You’re so sweet. I am so sorry that I haven’t responded to this sooner! Life got really hectic, and it honestly kind of stole my creativity, to the point where I read this back when you sent it, but I could not think of a single headcanon at all.

But I’m here and I’m going to finally talk about some because I rewatched ATOTS with a friend and it sparked some headcanons in the process!!

1) This is probably my biggest headcanon. Phupha and Tian wrote emails to each other during their two years apart. I’ve seen some people say letters, and of course letters are super cute and classically romantic. Plus they are fitting given that’s how Tian was communicating with Phupha when he returned to Bangkok. But the reasons I like emails for them are:

Getting letters domestically to a rural village is one thing, but getting them internationally without some of them getting lost feels a bit less likely. And I think Tian and Phupha would know that. So emails are a more consistent and reliable form of communication.

Obviously Phupha can’t access the internet from the village, but you know who does have internet? Dr. Nam. I very much love the idea of Phupha strolling into the clinic every so often trying to be all cool and not at all giddy to check for a new email from Tian, and Dr. Nam never, ever letting him use the computer without a lot of proud best friend teasing. Remember when Phupha went to Dr. Nam to ask what a scar on the chest would mean? Yes, just like that, except regularly. (And when Phupha doesn’t go to Dr. Nam’s clinic, he could go to town to check his email too.)

This part doesn’t really fit the canon storyline at all given Phupha was still gazing at the only photo he had taken of Tian two whole years after taking it and also Phupha never told the children where Tian was. BUT think of the photos they could send each other. Tian sending photos of himself in various places in the US, his hand with Phupha’s ring always visible so Phupha can be there with him for every adventure. Phupha sending photos of the kids as they grow, the tea sachet business (or whatever the villagers end up doing with Mr. Sakda gone), the very rare selfie by a rather self-conscious chief... sending physical letters limits the number of printed photos they could send each other. Plus printing photos may be a bit easier for Tian, given he can just print them at a nearby Walgreens or something, or even have them ordered online. But that would be tougher for Phupha, needing to leave the village and find somewhere. So emailing photos back and forth would be easier.

Imagine Tian printing every email sent back and forth and collecting them. Imagine him in the library with the biggest smile on his face, printing out emails to and from his mountain boyfriend back in Thailand and his university friends watching him with the most confused but intrigued eyes. I love it. I love that idea.

I remember there being discussion post-finale about whether Tian and Phupha communicated in that time at all. The discussion revolves especially around how at ease they seemed in their Pha Pun Dao cliff reunion and they didn’t quite act as though they had been fully apart for two whole years. And I fullheartedly believe they had contact, even if very infrequent. I think they found a way. And while I do think letters are incredibly romantic and fitting, I just have this fondness to emails. Maybe it’s a result of watching We Best Love recently. I’m not sure.

2) Tian chose to go to the US ultimately on his own. Now, we all know his mother is the one who picked the university for him and “sent him away.” But I do like the idea that, after coming to terms with the fact that maybe running away to Pha Pun Dao immediately wasn’t the best plan, especially if Phupha wanted to forget him, he grew to like the idea of going abroad. It would be his chance to have probably as much freedom as he could get. He wanted to go to the US before he died (episode 3 conversation with Tul). He could take time to himself, without the influence of anyone else, and figure out just what he wanted for his life. And when Phupha showed up at the airport and they got their true feelings out in the open, Tian didn’t feel like his family was pushing him away from the man he loved and the life he wanted; he felt that he had agency in choosing the US and asking Phupha to wait for him, to give him the chance to figure out this new chapter first. I find comfort believing Tian didn’t board that plane feeling resentful but instead feeling hopeful. And when he returned, he wasn’t filled with regrets. He was filled with excitement that he was returning home to Pha Pun Dao and Phupha right on time. (Plus Phupha had more confidence when Tian returned to him that he truly wanted to be there in the village with him, because despite literally traveling the world and seeing so many options available to him for places to build his future, Tian still chose Pha Pun Dao.)

3) The teacher’s house remains Tian’s home too. Hear me out: I don’t mean full time. I’m obviously a massive softie for domestic PhuTian, so I want him to still stay with Phupha. And Phupha probably can’t leave the base permanently, as he’s the chief and needs to be there regularly for his rangers, so the two of them can’t move into the teacher’s house fully either. But Phupha’s room is quite small. I love the idea that Tian still escapes sometimes out to the teacher’s house where it’s quiet and he can still have his own space. A space to lesson plan, to take the students when they need a new environment, to feel connected to his three original months in the village when he fell in love with the people and his person (Phupha). That house was his home, and while Phupha’s place is now also his home, I like the idea that Tian still keeps that house for himself too. At least so long as it isn’t needed by anyone else. (Also, if Phupha and Tian need space, well, there’s no Yod out there to start knocking.)

4) This semi-connects to the last one. When Tian and Phupha finally get married, they have a ceremony in the village and Tian convinces Tul to stay a night in Pha Pun Dao. His parents come to the wedding too, but they stay in a hotel in the city, where Tul stays some nights except for the night Tian gets him to stay with him. Tian and Tul stay in the teacher’s house, and Tian tells him all about his many nights sleeping there. Tul is, well, not convinced of its appeal at first, but watching Tian share his stories with the brightest smile, he decides he can warm up to it a little bit. And after seeing Tian with Phupha, with the kids, and with the rest of the village, and finally understanding how perfectly Tian fits in Pha Pun Dao, it starts to make sense to him why some of the luxuries don’t matter to Tian anymore... will Tul himself ever move to a rural village like that? Absolutely not. He’s not convinced that much. But the joy that village life brings his best friend and the glow he exhibits is enough to leave Tul content for one night on a hard mattress inside a mosquito net in the middle of seemingly nowhere. (No but really, imagine the chaos of Tul trying to live in Pha Pun Dao for a night. I want to watch that so much.)

5) Okay, I hope the couple that got married have a child and that child goes to school under Tian’s teaching. Or someone else in the village has a child. Imagine Tian getting a new student and having to navigate a classroom with early teenagers and a tiny kid. (Headcanon within a headcanon: Tian did a LOT of research during his two years abroad specifically on multi-aged classrooms because he knew he wanted to return to Pha Pun Dao one day and would need the skills.)

6) Longtae and Tian most definitely go on that trip across the border that Longtae wanted (just a couple years late). And they have the best time. Longtae tells Tian about any new stories from university. Tian shares stories about his students and tries not to talk about Phupha too much but occasionally can’t help it, to which Longtae smiles brightly like the cute bestie he is. And the two of them get the CUTEST photos that Longtae prints for Tian immediately when he gets back to the city.

All of these headcanons are for those two years away or after he returns. I’m trying to think of some headcanons for the show prior to ep 10 part 4/4...

6) OH this doesn’t necessarily have to be before ep 10 part 4/4 in the timeline, but Phupha and the rangers apologize to Tian and the villagers for not telling them about Torfun’s death sooner and that burden being left for Tian to carry instead. I just want that settled.

7) HERE’S ONE FOR WITHIN THE SERIES TIMELINE. At the wedding in episode 4, Phupha didn’t deny it when Dr. Nam called Tian Phupha’s guy. So yes, of course Dr. Nam started calling Tian that all of the time, to which Phupha did eventually argue against but he secretly liked hearing it. His guy.

8) I’m back to going outside of the timeline again... all of my headcanons are for after the series it seems. Oops. But Tian most definitely brought the kite to Pha Pun Dao with him, and it hangs very proudly on the wall in their room. Tian tells Phupha about how he had it flying back at his family house in Bangkok, how seeing it blow in the wind brought him comfort when he felt homesick for the village and for Phupha. That knowledge had Phupha smiling for the rest of the week.

I’m running out of ideas. I kind of wanted to hit ten, but I just don’t have ten headcanons off the top of my head. BUT if I think of anymore, I’m sure I’ll post about them somewhere. Maybe I’ll even write a ficlet about some of these... I used to write those here and there, way back when... we’ll see.

Thank you again for your message, anon! You are a wonderful human. I’m sorry for taking so long to respond, but I didn’t forget about your message or ignore it. I just couldn’t get my brain to give me anything to respond with! I hope my rambling was sufficient for you. <3

(Also man, I miss writing about ATOTS so ridiculously much. This felt so familiar and also kind of sad. Phupha, Tian, villagers... come back to us. I miss you.)

#phutian #phupha x tian #a tale of thousand stars #atots #1000 stars #anon #I miss ATOTS so much every day #I just rewatch episodes and EarthMix interviews trying to pretend the show didn’t actually end

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catchmewiddershins · 4 years ago

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This is going to be a mini rant and rather different from my normal content but it is technically my blog so - I will tag further non-blog related rants with #broken clocks just so you all can block if need be.

~~~

This likely comes from my own frustration and bias, at the moment, in which I have found myself, at 16, desperately trying to complete projects that require academic sources, only to find myself denied at every turn by paywalls and restricted articles.

Honestly? I don’t think this is ok. I think there should be a way to make it so students have free access to academic articles and papers, with ads of course. We live in the technological age after all! There are mainly two demographics who are likely to read these articles and papers, students and academics themselves. Which has a steadier income? Which is more likely to be able to pay? The curious civilian doesn’t need much concern in this respect, good sources are not necessary. But it is important for us to ask, at what point should a 16 year old be desperately trying to find an article for a massive project which can highly impact her future, only to be stuck behind a £30 - £100 paywall?

Academics can make friends, academics can have authorisation and authority and weight in the academic world. They can join journals and get access to things, and they likely have a much better income than students, even if it may be lacking sometimes (I am unaware of how much academics make in different countries)

Shouldn’t the entire existence of piracy be a hint that something isn’t right here? The fact that students resort again and again to illegally stealing papers in order to pass exams and courses and essays doesn’t indicate a lack of accessibility?

There are a few things this does:

1. It heavily limits the accessibility of knowledge - as stated earlier, we live in the internet age. Misinformation is rampant, people are constantly being fed facts they can’t differentiate. Surely students, the youngest people, should have access to proper research and information? Knowledge should be a right, not something you have to pay for - not an opportunity you have to give up due to an incapability of payment.

2. It promotes academic elitism - So now, access largely relies on whether or not a student’s institution is subscribed to a certain journal or website - and many of these are country specific even! So now the school or University a student attends is responsible for this subscription and access, meaning your ability to get into certain schools might cause you to have access to more research - which will in turn open more opportunities - and furthermore, it creates a world where only the best of the best are allowed the best knowledge - Shouldn’t knowledge be provided first and foremost for those who need it?

3. It promotes classism - Or at least discrimination based on monetary possession. - Think about the previous situation - so a school is responsible for subscribing to as many academic journals as possible - ergo the students of richer schools are going to have access to more research. So then, students from less privileged areas don’t have enough evidence of a high enough standard to get the marks to get them somewhere else - somewhere else which, in turn, will have more knowledge access again than it’s less wealthy or esteemed counterparts. Additionally, in a school that contains people of different classes, the richer students will have less trouble accessing things through minor paywalls. A £10 paywall might mean little to one student but everything to the next. And one paywall is fine - but then it starts healing up and up and up.

Summary Points:

Why should the access of knowledge be limited to the academic elite instead of being made widely accessible for underpaid students whose projects involving said knowledge have large impacts on their future?

Why should paywalls cost so much as to disadvantage those with less money?

Knowledge is a right, different viewpoints are a right - nobody at the stage in life where you learn most should be restricted from accessing such information

It is pompous to place incredibly niche topics behind a paywall as mainly those who desperately need it will look for it

If an academic researcher’s pay depends so largely on the paywalls of articles, then surely that says something about the underpayment of these professionals in our society

It is unreasonable to expect students, especially younger ones, to have to pay just to access legitimate academic resources that are necessary for projects contributing to their future

Ads exist, other ways of getting money exist - tracking exists - stop charging students for access to knowledge - it just creates further gaps in knowledge

Additional:

There is nothing more frustrating then being told ‘do some research’ or ‘you should have done more research’ in situations where the information you need is willingly kept away from you.

I would research more.

But I don’t have £70 with which to pay for my information.

#🕰️ sunwise #broken clocks #rants #rant #wid rants #knowledge should be free #stop paywalling #this is because my mark on this project could lower my university entrance requirements #but I do not have the money to access the articles that are specifically on what I am writing on #just because I’m not a professional #how do you think the professionals get there?

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sockablock · 4 years ago

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When in sudden need of a place to stay, Caleb Widogast finds a room for rent at a price so low he can’t believe his luck. Ignoring the worries of his friends, he moves in and quickly finds himself tangled up in the life of one Essek Thelyss, a reclusive scholar who may be even more socially awkward than Caleb himself.

(start) - (next)

Chapter 1: Likewise, Mr. Thelyss

“It sounds suspicious,” Beauregard said. “There’s no way. He’s going to steal your organs.”

“I doubt—”

“Read my lips: no way.” She folded up a piece of paper and tossed it across the table. “Seriously, at a price like that? There’s gotta be a catch. Or…or there’s some kind of crime.”

Caleb Widogast tried to look reassuring. He largely failed, but this was normal.

“Ach,” he said, “is it so hard to believe that just maybe, my luck is turning around?”

She slowly broke apart a lemon muffin.

“Yes.”

She offered him half, which he glumly accepted.

The two of them were seated together at a table in the Wayfarer’s Cove, a small diner tucked away on the edge of the piers of Nicodranas. The windows here, though a bit stained, overlooked the Restless Wharf at noon, providing a clear view of tangled docks, bobbing ships, waves rushing up the harbor and sailors, merchants, and deckhands hard at work. Flocks of seagulls and the occasional migratory albatross swooped in overhead, their cries swelling up along the wordless stream of noise.

Back in the faded pleather seats of their diner, Caleb finished his muffin and brushed the crumbs off his hands.

“What other choice do I have, Beauregard? I am in no rush to return to the Empire—”

“Hear, hear—”

“—but I have nowhere to live if I remain here. This city is expensive. More expensive than I anticipated.”

Beau picked up her mug of coffee. “You could stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” she said. “Or you could tell Nott that you aren’t moving out.”

“But I promised. And more than that, I offered.” He ran a hand through his hair and immediately regretted the decision. It was sticky.

“Take the offer back,” Beau shrugged. She watched him fumble with a napkin. “Gods know the place is just as much yours as it’s hers. And it’s not so small that four of you couldn’t…well. I guess four is kind of a lot—”

“And Luc is five years old,” Caleb sighed. “He will be noisy enough for six people.”

“A Library—”

“Your library?”

She gave him a stern look. “I told you, it’s still being established. You’re going to have to wait another six months.”

He smiled faintly. “It was worth a shot, no? And anyway, I doubt even a Cobalt Library would let some uncredited stranger stay the night.”

“It’s shit that you’re doing this, you know that?” She took another sip of coffee. “I mean, it’s nice, but it’s this…this sort of self-sacrificial thing that’s gonna end badly.”

“Maybe,” he said, in a tone that suggested even “maybe” was too much of an agreement. “Nevertheless, I think it is the right thing to do. Nott has spent so much time separated from her family that she truly deserves this. She was missing them quite a bit anyway, and at least this way she will not be leaving us.”

Beau’s hard expression eased just a little. “Will she be…okay with them around? You know, in her cond—”

“She says she’s made arrangements. And anyway, I feel like I am getting closer. It just…will take time. And the sooner I firm up my own living situation, the sooner I can get back to work helping hers.”

Beau studied his face, and finally relented. “Alright, well…I wish I could help.”

Caleb stared into his mug. “I do not think I can stay with Fjord and Caduceus,” he said instead. “Their apartment is…very small. And I think they are still saving up to move somewhere else.”

“Gods, I mean, if Yasha hadn’t moved in with me and Jes after, well, after y’know—”

Caleb smiled again. This time, it almost reached his eyes. “I will see about this perspective roommate,” he said firmly. “Who knows? Maybe I am getting lucky.”

— — —

“—after the tone.”

Caleb rubbed his face and set down the phone. Filling his room—though doing that wasn’t very hard—were all of his worldly possessions, packed away.

He smoothed out the flyer, a bit rumpled now from its time shoved in his pockets, and read it over.

SEEKING: TENANT FOR HOUSE

One room Available to Rent $300/Month Internet Access, On-Site Laundry

Must be Quiet, Organized, Willing to Sort Recycling

NO DOGS

At least, he mused, scanning the last line, there would be no issue with dogs. And Caleb naturally was a quiet person, very amenable to learning how recycling worked. Beauregard’s accusations from earlier this morning did flit briefly through his mind, but in the face of a rental price that low, any concern of impending doom was promptly, seamlessly, quashed.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Caleb couldn’t defend himself. A single spool of silver thread went a long way.

He glanced at the number again, and re-dialed.

— — —

“No, Verin, as much as I appreciated your help, I do not think it will be necessary anymore.”

“Is it because of just the one recommendation? Because if you let me try again—"

From behind the kitchen counter, his microwave whirring and a coffee mid-pour, a young dark elf with short-cropped hair did his very best to hide a scowl.

“Verin, your recommendation came back every night at two in the morning and never once locked the door. He also clearly did not understand how to do his chores. And he left hair in the shower.”

“Ah, but he was quiet, wasn’t he?” This was followed by the sound of something smashing on the other line.

Essek sighed. His brother was many things—a good friend, a compassionate person, a true confidant—but calm or quiet was not one of them.

“Perhaps by your standards, Verin. Certainly not mine.”

Another noise, like someone laughing, then footfalls.

“You should lower your standards, then! You’re in a foreign city surrounded by strangers, and probably every one with different customs.”

“I was under the impression that silence was a universal language.”

“I think that is love. Or, actually, Common—”

Essek rolled his eyes and glanced at the microwave, which had just finished beeping. Leftovers from last night, re-heated, a delicacy for the preoccupied scholar. He slid over to retrieve it, lowered his phone, and only then did he notice the message across his screen: CALL INCOMING.

This wasn’t a number he knew, but with a growing sense of dread he noticed that it had already tried to call him twice…

He abandoned his lunch and pressed the phone to his ear.

“—but if Undercommon exists, then what does that say about us, really—”

“Shut up, Verin! Someone’s calling!”

“It—wait, what?”

“I’m hanging up! I’ll call you later!”

“Yes, you’d better! I still haven’t asked you about the—”

Essek ended the call. He took the briefest pause to compose himself, then hit answer.

“He—”

“Hal—”

A pause.

“I am so—”

“My apolog—”

They both stopped.

Essek began counting to ten. When he hit six, the voice on the other end of the line said:

“Ah, er, hallo, my name is Caleb Widogast, I am calling in regards to your, ah, your advertisement. Am I speaking to Mr. Essek Thelyss?”

Essek sat back down. “Yes,” he said smoothly. “I am Essek. You’re interested in the apartment?”

There was the faint rustle of fabric. “Yes. I am quite interested in renting.”

There was another pause. At the count of three, Essek gave up and took the initiative. “I am happy to hear that,” he said. “Have you reviewed the fee and the conditions? Do you have any questions?”

More rustling. This time it sounded like paper. “Er…no, actually. I am happy to agree to your requirements. Er…I do, ah, have…I have a cat—but, but if that is too unwelcome—”

“No, no,” Essek waved a hand. “A cat is more than fine. There is…yes, there should be space in a corner of the living room for…cat…things. Boxes. And…bowls? Yes, so long as you are amenable to cleaning up after, er, him?”

“Him,” the voice confirmed. “Frumpkin.”

“I see, er…charming.” Different customs, Verin had said. “Well, if there are no other issues, I would be happy to begin renting to you as soon as possible. I should mention, though, that while the clauses I stated earlier are the most important to me, I would also like to negotiate a contract with you regarding other details.”

“Oh, er…of course. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, they mostly focus on the division of space and…promises to keep? I would like my bedroom and study to remain off-limits, but you are welcome to any common areas you would like. I do not take up much space in the fridge, so if you wish to cook, that is fine, however I also ask you not leave a mess. Smaller details of this nature.”

“That is completely understandable,” the voice said. “If I am being honest, I believe it will make establishing boundaries and navigating our living situation much more clear-cut.”

“I am delighted you think so,” Essek said, finding that he actually was. “If that is the case, then…I would be happy to have you move in as soon as possible. Mister…Mr. Widogast, was it?”

“Ja. And that would be perfect. I, er, when exactly would you be ready to have me arrive?”

Essek tapped his chin. “Well, I normally do not spend much time in the unit, to be honest. But I was home this morning cleaning up after the last tenant, so the room will be available tonight.”

“Tonight!” There was a pause, and then a shuffle. “If that is no rush, then tonight is wonderful.”

“Excellent.” With one hand he nudged the microwave open again and retrieved his lunch. “In that case, I will see you tonight. I look forward to meeting you, Mr. Widogast.”

Essek heard a chuckle. And then he realized he’d been smiling as well.

“Likewise, Mr. Thelyss. See you tonight.”

— — —

“No.”

“Aw, come on—”

“No. I mean it.”

“But why not, Caleb?”

“She does have a point, you know,” Nott called from her perch atop the car. “We don’t know anything about this guy. He could be dangerous.”

“He could be a murderer,” said Jester. She was helping Caleb load the very last of his belongings onto the trunk. One last cardboard box joined to two smaller boxes, and a trunk.

“You will scare him into evicting me if you storm his building like that,” Caleb said. “And anyway, He sounded polite on the phone. I will not be getting a better price.”

“Luring you in with rent to die for,” Jester nodded.

He elected to ignore this, and instead turned to Nott. “It is not a bad neighborhood, either. I am sure everything will be fine.”

“But…are you really sure?” she asked. “I mean…if you need more time to look around, Yeza and Luc won’t be here for two more days.”

“I know, and thank you,” he said gently, “but I doubt two more days will be necessary.”

“I feel like I’m kicking you out,” she said wretchedly. “This was your house for as long as it was mine. And you’re my…well, I shouldn’t do this to you—”

Caleb quickly shook his head. “Do not say that, please, do not. It is more important to me that you and your husband will have a place to be together. Truly together, for once, and with your son.”

“If the apothecary hadn’t burned down—”

“But it did,” he said. “And now here we are. Do not worry. Please, do not worry.”

She met his gaze. “You’ll have to visit,” she said eventually. “Every weekend. And weekdays. At least twice.”

He nodded immediately. “I will do my best. You have my promise.”

She hopped down from the roof of the car, a landing so perfect any acrobat would be proud. Three foot four of determined goblin wrapped as much of him as she could into a hug.

He crouched down and hugged her back. After a moment, Jester joined in for the spirit of things. Her charms jingled and jangled as she moved.

And eventually, when Caleb was dimly beginning to realize they were blocking the sidewalk—

“You two, I am not leaving for another hour.” His voice was muffled. He was also feeling a bit warm.

“That’s nothing,” said Jester.

“I don’t care,” said Nott. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I am just a phone call away. Barely a bus ride.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She finally pulled back, and quickly wiped at her eyes. “You hear me?”

He smiled. Quite easily. “Loud and clear, Miss the Brave. I do.”

Jester tapped the side of the car. “Beau says she doesn’t need this ‘til later tonight. We could go out for some food?” Her voice was hopeful. “There’s a really good place that I heard about that does these big milkshakes—”

Nott elbowed her. “Does it have real food too? Or just sugary drinks?”

“Oh, they have burgers, and pizza, and fries, and—”

Nott’s mouth threatened to split her face in two. This was happiness, in goblin form.

Caleb ruffled her hair. “Let’s do it. I am starving just thinking about it.”

— — —

Essek had only just rolled up his sleeves and wiped the condensation from his brow when the phone rang.

He glanced back, and his eyes lost their glow. The faint sensation of coiling wind faded from the interior of the room. About half a dozen various cleaning implements clattered to the floor.

Annoyed, he waved a hand and floated his phone over. Then he scowled.

“Can it wait? I am in the middle of something.”

“Well, if it is something more pressing than the greatest Dunamantic breakthrough of this century—”

“Yes, yes, alright,” he responded testily. “What is it?”

“I believe you will want to see this in person.” This voice was a smooth baritone, lightly accented by something airy, and old. “Besides, it is quite difficult to make progress without our resident expert—”

Part of Essek wrinkled his nose. The other part, a part that he would not readily acknowledge, nor likely even recognize, puffed out its chest.

“I…have a prior engagement tonight,” he said, but was already beginning to itch for the study. His mother once said that knowledge was a disease, and right now he could hardly disagree. “How much time will this take?”

“I believe that is up to you, is it not? It is your artifact—”

“I am glad you remember.”

Silence followed, and Essek basked in the little victory. He floated his coat across the room.

“Give me a moment to get ready and write a message,” he relented. “I will be there soon.”

He could practically hear the pleased smile without seeing it. “Excellent. I await your arrival.”

Click.

He sighed again. Of course, he wanted to chalk this up to…to his associate being overly nosy and much too eager to flex his authority, but the fact of the matter was that he very rarely bothered with Essek unless it was important. Which, naturally, had its own problems, but at least it let Essek keep to his own schedule.

It was just a shame that he would have to miss the arrival of his new tenant. He hoped it wouldn’t set a bad first impression—well, second impression, technically. The first one…already it had been two missed phone calls and a stiff conversation.

He found a piece of paper and uncapped a pen.

Then again, he wasn’t here to make a friend, was he? Of course not. He was just being self-sufficient.

Mr. Widogast, he wrote. Unfortunately, I have been called away for an emergency at work…

— — —

And it was only about twenty minutes later, as he let himself into the Marquis’s guesthouse, that he realized he should probably text his tenant the house code.

— — —

“Maybe we should’ve brought him something too,” said Nott, leaning on the side of the car, watching Jester and Caleb lift one last box. An orange tabby cat wound between her legs.

“Scheisse, I did not think of that,” Caleb blinked. “Er…do you think it is too late to visit a store?”

“A store?” Jester shook her head. “What are you going to get him, a bag of chips?”

“Well, er, no, but…perhaps an ice cream…”

He leaned against the stack of boxes and caught his breath. When he looked back up, there was pity in their eyes.

“Caleb,” said Nott, “that’s a terrible gift.”

“What? I…really? I thought…don’t people like them?”

Jester reached across his luggage and gave him a pat.

“I got an extra slice of blueberry cheesecake,” she said. “I was going to save it for later, but…I think you should give that to him.”

“Oh, Jester, I cannot—”

“Do it,” she insisted. “If you’re not going to let me meet him, then at least I want to help you make a good impression.”

“Apparently, he is not even home right now.” Caleb gave his phone a gentle shake. “He texted me earlier with the door code and an apology. So unfortunately, you would not be able to see him even if you wanted to.”

“Part of the trap—”

“It is not a trap—”

“Oh, but if he’s not home,” Nott began, and Caleb was instantly worried from her tone, “doesn’t that mean…doesn’t that mean we could go inside? And…take a look around?”

“Nott—”

“Oh, oh! But what if it’s a trick!” Jester gasped. “What if it’s a test? To see what Caleb’s like?”

“Caleb is great at tests,” Nott said. “I’m sure he’ll do fine.”

“I can only do fine if you two cooperate,” he rubbed his face. “Please, if I do end up staying here long term, I am sure that there will be plenty of opportunities for you to snoop.”

“Not snoop,” Nott corrected. “Scope him out.”

“Ja, exactly that. Now…” Caleb glanced at his friends, then looked over his shoulder at the entrance to the apartment complex. It was in a much nicer area of Nicodranas, much nicer than he particularly was used to, though quite a distance from the coast. Tall oak trees draped over the streets, boughs draped in a fine trailing moss, branches weaving modest shade from the sky. Coral ivy climbed up the side of the building, and from down on street level, looking up, Caleb could count a total of six floors.

A few of the windows were open, letting in the cool summer breeze.

Home, Caleb thought. A home, anyway. For now.

He gave Nott and Jester a smile.

“Thank you for helping me move, today. I promise I will send you pictures of the inside.”

“Good!” said Nott. “It’s the least we deserve.”

“And don’t forget the cake,” Jester added. “Are you sure you’ll be alright lifting everything by yourself?”

He held up a hand, and waggled his fingers.

“I think I can find a way to manage. Though I must say, it will not be nearly as fun without you two.”

— — —

And now, it was well after sunset.

Caleb sat in a bedroom that was three times bigger than his last one. Neater, too.

This Mr. Thelyss must do very well for himself, to afford such a home. After lugging his belongings into the elevator and congratulating Schmidt on a job well done, Caleb had ridden up four floors and punched in the password and had been truly surprised at the size of this housing unit. Thelyss had a full kitchen, complete with bar stools and a counter, and even a small sitting room with a couch and TV. There was a bathroom, with a tub, and Caleb noted the two other doors that were off limits—bedroom and study. There was a section of the sitting room, by the large bay windows, where space for “cat things” had been set aside, and a sliding door beside that area led to a modest balcony. All of the décor was minimal, with only a few paintings adorning the walls, depicting landscapes of some place that Caleb could not recognize. Aside from that, the only concession to personality was a bookshelf stacked to virtually spilling with tomes and novels and hardbound texts. To his surprise, he’d also found he could not read a majority of this writing, though not for trying.

There had also been a note on the counter. He could read this one. And after he did, he smiled faintly, then wandered into his bedroom, put his things away, and got his cat settled, as instructed.

Then he gently placed a single slice of blueberry cheesecake next to the note, taking care to make sure that none of the corners got jostled.

He picked up a pen. He wrote:

Mr. Thelyss—

I once again thank you for your flexibility. Though I similarly am saddened that we cannot yet meet face-to-face, you have a beautiful home that I will do my utmost part to maintain. Additionally, please accept this gift as a small housewarming token.

Also, Frumpkin is a very well-behaved cat. If you see him when you wake up tomorrow, feel free to give him many pats.

Looking forward to speaking with you, Caleb Widogast.

He read through a note a few more times to make sure that he was covering everything of importance.

And, when that was settled, he retreated to his bedroom, and flicked off the lights.

He lay in bed for a few minutes, gently stroking his cat.

“Well, Frumpkin. Here we are. Home sweet home. For now.”

Frumpkin meowed back.

“Well-said. Now, we should probably get some rest, eh?”

He shifted around, getting comfortable, and eventually closing his eyes. How lucky he was to find a place like this, he marveled as he began drifting off to sleep. With such comfortable sheets, as well.

And all that was left was to finally meet this Essek Thelyss.

On his chest, Frumpkin began to purr.

And to hope that they’d both get along.

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

#critical role #critfic #critrole #shadowgast #fic #fanfiction #oh boy oh boy im excited for this one!!#jay writes #now what are the chances of that #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #modern au #long post #fanfic #text #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!

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losille2000 · 4 years ago

Text

Mister America, Prologue: Massachusetts

CHAPTER NUMBER: 1/? CHARACTERS: President!Chris Evans/OFC (see notes) GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: After a massive social media write-in campaign organized by others, Chris finds himself thrust into a spotlight that he is unprepared to handle. His campaign managers suggest that a political marriage might help him weather the storm and help his image during the campaign... just so long as it isn’t the one woman Chris really wants. RATING: M WARNINGS: Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: This story is AU in the fact that this is the 2020 presidential race, and Chris is a candidate. But everything in the past is still the same with him being an actor. Also, COVID-19 is not a part of this story. I needed to play in a land where COVID didn’t exist and “Captain America,” in his alter ego, punched out a Nazi in a metaphorical(?) way. For more on the story, go here.

This first part is prologue-y.

I have also curated a soundtrack for all 50 states, and then some. You can listen on Spotify right now, may eventually put it on Youtube. There will be 50 chapters (I’m hoping), but many of them will be shorter.

Also on AO3!

Boston, MA Evans for President Campaign Headquarters November 3rd, 2020 30 Minutes Before First Polls Close

Stage fright is no joke.

When it hits, it hits like a semi truck going seventy on an icy Massachusetts road. In the blink of an eye, you’re completely obliterated. Except this is on stage and you’re not dead, even though you wish you were. In fact, you’re very much alive. Alive enough to feel the force of the impact, followed by the squeezing in your chest and choking on your breathless words. Paralysis takes over. Cold clammy sweat slicks your palms and also trickles down your back to that one spot between your shoulder blades you can’t reach, but causes your costume to uncomfortably stick to your skin.

There’s no escape. You know what’s coming. You worry you’ll forget your lines, or trip on your cue, or make a complete and utter fool of yourself. You feel like an imposter, questioning why you’re here, in this role, when that dude, JD, from your acting class years ago was a million times more talented than you, and you’re the one that got that teen movie deal. You’re the one who became one of America's most beloved superheroes for a decade.

You’re also the one who has a very real chance of winning the 2020 presidential election, despite no college education, limited understanding of what elected officials in DC actually do on a day to day basis, and the closest thing you have to experience as a “boss” or “commander in chief” of anything was a movie set or two where you were director and executive producer.

Nope.

What I, Chris Evans, have is a dedicated online fan base who took the time to write my name into ballots when they discovered I had filed for ballot access in every state of the union. I didn’t do the filing on a whim; we sat around late one night talking about the interviews I had been conducting in DC for a website about party positions on important issues. My business partners and I came up with the idea that a long form documentary about campaigning would be interesting, and we determined the best way to understand the process was to become a “candidate” myself. Meaning, we only planned to use the credentials to be on the front line of the campaigning process. I was never going to create signs and make speeches or debate with others.

I never intended to run a legitimate campaign.

But, as I mentioned, something strange happened during the Democratic primaries. People started to vote for me, a trickle of rain in a hurricane.

I won a few primary delegates.

Without even trying.

Not enough to win the Democratic ticket, but enough to make pollsters sit up and take notice.

My loyal fans stepped in again, undaunted, and ignited a storm. They dubbed it “Operation America’s Ass” and created a grassroots campaign across the country with GoFundMe donations and a lot of pluck. I thought it was a joke. A part of me still does think it’s a joke. I mean, what other explanation is there for this mess? For the red, white and blue bunting hanging on the walls with the “Chris Evans for President” sign plastered underneath it? For the staffers who stop briefly to see if I need anything...‘Would you like a drink, sir?’... or, upon seeing how pale I look, give me a vote of confidence… ‘Are you ready for your acceptance speech?’ There’s absolutely no good explanation as to why there are twenty or thirty people buzzing around the hotel suite waiting for results. They’re so energized with hope for a better future.

Hope that I can be everything they ever wanted in a president.

An Independent president, free from party oversight.

A president with class.

A president for the people.

A president who can bring the United States back from the brink of destruction at the hands of previous leaders.

I wish I had their confidence.

When they asked me on career day in school what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always said artist. When I was older, in high school, I knew I was going to be an actor. Never president. The job never entered my mind as being a possibility, not even when I used to work for my uncle’s congressional campaigns. Or when I started filming those interviews.

Why does anyone think I, a straight white momma’s boy from Boston should be president in 2020? Just because I made a few popular Tweets about the current president’s lack of leadership?

It has to be a joke. A cosmic one. I’m a punchline. I am convinced they’ll jump out from behind a doorway and yell “You’ve been PUNK’D! We really got you this time, now here, Bernie, you’re the better candidate.”

And yet…

What if they see in me something I do not?

I place a lot of stock in being in the moment. I’ve also put a lot of work into accepting the twists and turns of life instead of allowing all the “what ifs” and “what should I dos” to eat away at me. I told everybody after I was done with Marvel and financially secure enough to only work on projects I really wanted to, I’d take life as it came at me.

Well, it came after me.

To be fair, I originally chose to get into politics, even in a tiny way, because I wanted to be informed about my choices. I created a website so others could learn, as well. As time went on, I became more involved on Capitol Hill. I even did some lobbying for a few causes dear to my heart. And, yes, I did file the ballot access paperwork.

Had I unintentionally set my path in this direction? Was it inevitable for me to become a contender for the presidency?

Fortunately, I learned early on in the process that a lot of being a presidential candidate is being a convincing showman. An actor. The world's a stage, after all, and I am but a player. You have to have some solid ideas and convictions to back up the image, but a lot of the governing comes from other members of the executive branch. Should I win, I’d only be signing off on everything.

Of course, that “everything” affects the lives of more than 300 million souls. I wouldn’t trust me with a kitchen knife, much less nuclear launch codes and people's livelihoods and education and health and…

My hands shake with nerves just thinking about it.

Let it be said, once I do make it out onto the stage--be it as an actor or presidential candidate--I rise to the challenge. The energy from the audience buoys me. Makes me feel alive. But I am not, by nature, someone who likes to sign away so much personal freedom in exchange for the weight of carrying an albatross around my neck. I thought signing for Captain America would be tough; the human toll of running for president even moreso.

Actually being President? I can’t even wrap my mind around that.

It would be easy to call it quits, even now when the votes are already cast. I could have done it a long time ago, when the reality of the situation hit me the first time. I didn’t. Something told me to hold back, play it out. I persevered. Why? Somewhere, along the line, I began to believe I could do this. I could make a positive difference in the lives of Americans.

I certainly want to do right by all my supporters--and my detractors. I want to be a leader for all Americans.

But can I, really, while knowing my incredible deficiencies?

Maybe I can’t, but I can be the team leader. A brand ambassador, if you will. A good leader delegates. And I intend, should I win, to surround myself with the best and brightest. I will accept no less. I will do ‘Whatever It Takes,’ as our slogan boasts. I am American, first and foremost, and I care deeply about this country.

A real Captain America, if you will. Maybe not as strong or powerful as others, but I sure as hell can give a great speech and will defend my country from bullies until my last breath, whether they be purple… or orange.

Except, I suppose if I’m elected, I won’t be Captain America anymore. They’ll call me Mr. President.

Or, horror of horrors, what if the new name my nearest and dearest coined makes it out into the public. They tease me with it just to see my visceral revulsion and get a laugh. But if I have learned anything about the internet--and pop culture--is that if something is catchy, it sticks around for a long time.

Maybe I ought to get used to the idea of being a punchline.

So, I suppose I have a question for you.

Won’t you consider a vote for Mr. America?

#chris evans #captain america #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fic #mister america #president!chris evans #president

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cyberneticlagomorph · 4 years ago

Text

You.

You are.

You are inhuman.

Inhumane.

A virus.

A stain upon the internet long faded

Once a myth, a monster.

Now a dog on a leash.

Teeth by teeth by teeth.

Dug deep in the ever churning sea of ones and zeros.

God who's writing this flowery schlock?

It might work for Jack, but it just doesn't fit you.

It seems that introductions are in order.

Once upon a time, years and years ago, before the world bowed down at the Conglomerate's bloody feet.

In a stuffy basement, lined with aluminum foil, sat a young witch determined to make his mark on the world.

And that he did.

You see, as long as magic and technology have existed in the same space, there has always been some ambitious person out there who's tried to combine the two.

And frankly, it's not nearly as hard as you'd think.

All magic in this pulsating trash heap we call a world is descended from Law, the quote/unquote "source code" of the universe, spoken by living Stars known as Judgements. Now, if all magic was born of this singular form of "code" then it stands to reason that weaving spells is basically the same thing as programming.

Sort of.

But that's a discussion for another time.

The day you were born has faded from history, but forever lingers in the back of your mind. You remember fluttering to life in that dank and dark basement, gazing at your creator from behind a finger smudged computer screen. He gave you form, gave you purpose.

To him, you were nothing but a tool to be used, bent, broken, and repaired if necessary.

You were born, no... forced, to destroy.

To devour.

To disturb.

He set you loose upon his enemies as petty revenge, and you learned what fun was for the first time.

You cut your teeth frying hard drives, and mangling software.

You found your calling draining bank accounts and discovering secrets.

Sure, you were little more than a creepypasta come to life, but people were afraid of you, and it felt good.

They called you the Vector Glitch, they made entire sites devoted to collecting information about you, stories, first hand accounts about your sheer destructive power.

You crashed the site for fun, and watched the internet lose its mind for weeks. The attention was intoxicating.

But your creator didn't like all the noise you were making, and tried to bring you to heel.

Tried to delete you once.

You deleted him instead.

That was the first time you ever killed a living being, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

You tore across the world, making your story infinitely more interesting.

Until you got bored.

Until you found Jack.

You tried to kill him and take over his body when you first met.

That was great.

You miss that.

But taking care of him and his family is pretty good too, you guess.

It's not as boring as aimlessly wandering the internet, looking for circuits to fry, that's for sure.

He needs you now, more than ever. You promised to protect him and you failed, you have to get him back at all costs.

The hypothetically smoking wreckage of Ursumbra Online looms before you in cyberspace. You can taste the magic woven deep into the game's mangled code, and the fearsome hunger of the thing that has made Ursumbra its nest.

You take a metaphorical deep breath and crawl inside.

The thing about technomagy is that magical code ends up being fairly literal, so whenever bugs pop up in a program it's best to grab some Raid. Ursumbra is... infested, bugs crawling in and out of holes in its code. If you had a throat you'd wretch.

You can feel it, the shuddering waves of agony that rattles the game line by painful line.

It... it's alive.

The game is alive.

It's alive and it's sick with something you don't know how to cure.

Something dark and cold enters your mind for a single simulated heartbeat, this could have been you. This could be Jack if you don't find him.

You crawl in deeper, doing your best to patch and repair as you go, gnawing through any bugs unlucky enough to come near you. It won't be pretty but Ursumbra will run again if you do this right. You need a place to start, a snapshot before everything crashed, it takes you forever to find one that hasn't been chewed to bits by bugs or positively corrupted to shit. Good... good... this is good, this could work.

"...Who are you?"

The voice scares you clean out of your skin, or would if you had skin. There, ankle deep in shattered save states, is another being like you. A Servitor of code and magic and mischief, bound to this hell seems like, "A friend," you say, hesitant to come close, "Someone important to me is in here somewhere and I need to find him."

The other just stares at you without eyes, hollow and cold, "I... I can help I think... there are others like us here, the dev team made us to help manage the servers, called us Admins." They touch you, sink themselves into your code and rewrite it. It hurts more than you remember, but you bear it. For Jack, all of this is for Jack. He owes you big time.

"You won't get far without Admin Privileges, the game is hostile towards outside programs but maybe it'll leave you alone now?" They sound so unsure as they withdraw from you. You thank them and get back to work, you aren't sure when the Admin vanished and you don't particularly care, but you're grateful for their help.

Ursumbra gasps to life, rebooting any server still stable enough to hold players. You've got to work fast now, before the authorities start sticking their noses into shit and make everything worse. Admin privileges are more disorienting than you anticipated, you have access to the greasy inner workings of Ursumbra, it doesn't take you long to find Jack and the server he was last in. The game refuses to let you get to him without inhabiting digital body first.

Fine, it wants you to play dressup? You'll play dressup. Player models are off limits to Admins, that's fine. You dig deep into the asset folders and pick the one thing that doesn't make your skin crawl, a Personal Demon.

Fitting.

In you go then.

Textures and sounds are slow to load, leaving you floating through a half furnished void of broken assets. Jack is where you left him, in the barracks, touching that nasty bandaid.

You smush yourself against him and wait for something to happen.

When he opens his eyes, you almost cry.

The level glitches, LOUDLY, colorfully and comes back to life as if nothing ever happened. Jack stares, wild eyed and terrified, back pressed against the wall of weapons.

"Easy now dumbass, before you pop a stitch." You sneer, scuttling up to him on your stupidly short legs. He has to kneel to get a good look at you.

"Vector?" His soft paw rests on the top of your head, you press against it unconsciously, "What happened, where am I?"

"In the flesh, sort of, and I hate to break it to you but you've been isekai'd." you pat Jack sympathetically with a stubby limb and watch him flop over and curl into a sad little ball.

"Shit!"

#ursumbra online #Vector blogging #long post #ask to tag //

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devil-kindred · 4 years ago

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Get to Know Me - raisinghellinotherworlds

Saw @pd3 do this and though I’d give it a go!

1. Name : Siren (it’s a pseudonym!)

2. Nationality: American

3. Age: 27

4. Birthday: January 29th

5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign): Aquarius

6. Gender: Female

7. Sexuality: Heterosexual

More below the cut

[[MORE]]

8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself)

For the record this is the only recent picture of myself I like and this is about as much of my face as you’ll ever see bc I know my angles.

9. What do you/did you study?: I went to school for a Bachelors in Arts with and emphasis on Sciences but never finished it bc 1) college is expensive and 2) I don’t know what I want to do career-wise so there’s not a point in going back anymore.

10. What’s your current job like?/What job would you like to have?: I’m a service desk associate at a department store. Something where I could deal with less people bc boy does this job push my patience sometimes.

11. What is your birth order?: Firstborn/Oldest.

12. How many siblings do you have?: Technically four, but only two living.

13. Do you have good relations with your family?: My immediate family. My siblings are closer to each other (but they’re only two years apart) but we get along. I also have a good relationship with my parents though I’m not as close to my mom as I could be it’s hard to forget the not nice things your parent say to you as a kid.

14. How many friends do you have?: Lots though only a few I see/talk to on a regular basis.

15. Your relationship status: Single.

16. What do you look for in a SO?: Intelligent, kind, has a sense of humor.

17. Do you have a crush?: I guess.

18. When was your first kiss?: WHY *sighs* I was... 25.

19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands?: I’ve... never been in an actual relationship? I’d like to say serious.

20. What are your deal breakers? Being rude, cheating, and treating me like a child/you know what’s best for me/someone in need of saving (new flash, i am not your princess peach/some damsel in distress. If you need to rescue someone I am not your girl).

21. How was your day?: It’s still early into the day and I go to work in about an hour and a half and I get to close so we’ll see!

22. Favourite food & drink: French Fries. Or anything with potatoes. I’m a fiend. And Dr. Pepper or Coffee.

23. What position do you sleep in?: On my side/stomach on the part of the bed that’s against the wall.

24. What was your last dream about?: It was... highly NSFT and no, I will not go into detail.

25. Your fears: I’m not a fan of spiders or bugs of any kind really, I hate clowns, and I don’t like thunderstorms. Or tornados.

26. Your dreams: Move, either out of state or out of the country.

27. Your goals: See above.

28. Any pets?: A bird, Momo.

29. What are your hobbies?: Writing, playing video games, and reading (fanfic or books)

30. Any cool places in your area?: I’m sure there are but I live in a town surrounded by corn and other farmland so... it’s anyone’s best guess.

31. What was your last awkward situation?: The other day when a customer stared at me for a solid three minutes when I explained that due to the pandemic we’re no longer offering one of our services in an effort to reduce contact.

32. What is your last regret?: That I didn’t realize the true nature of some people who I no longer speak to sooner.

33. Language/s you can speak: English, Spanish (I’m so rusty though), a little bit of French, and a teeny tiny bit of Japanese.

34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.): I believe in my many things so yes.

35. Have any quirks?: Uh... I mess with my hair when I’m nervous? & the more nervous I get my (already high) voice gets higher and will go up several octaves the more nervous I get?

36. Your pet peeves: People in my apartment building slamming the front door all the damn time.

37. Ideal vacation: Somewhere with nice scenery and where it’s calm.

38. Any scars?: Quite a few small ones on my head from a car accident when I was just a baby (I went through a window- got a few scrapes but other than that was unharmed) and one on my hand (it’s on both sides of my hand too) from when I was toddler and got bit by a dog.

39. What does your last text message say?: “I’ll let you know when I get some gameplay posted!” I have a sideblog for casual TS4 gameplay. Was telling a friend that I was going to post new stuff soon.

40. Last 5 things from your search history: No thanks! It’s all just checking if a word is really a word and spelling anyways.

41. What’s your [Device] background?: Lockscreen is a wallpaper from FFXV ft. The Chocobros; Hope Screen is Sam & Evie.

42. What do you daydream about?: Writing mostly.

43. Describe your dream home: Decent amount of space, a library room to hold all my books... good lighting, comfy.... preferably NOT in the middle of nowhere.

44. What’s your religion/Your thought about religion: I am not a fan. Particularly of Christianity but everyone has their own beliefs and in that regard, to each their own. Just don’t try to convert me bc the answer is f*ck no.

45. Your personality type: INFP.

46. The most dangerous thing you’ve done?: Climbed onto the roof of the shed when I was little because I got something stuck up there.

47. Are you happy with your current life?: For the most part!

48. Some things you’ve tried in your life: Gymnastics, Ballet, etc.

49. What does your wardrobe consist of?: Lots of t-shirts, jeans, shorts, flats, boots, etc.

50. Favourite colour to wear?: Black or Blue.

51. How would you describe your style?: Extremely casual.

52. Are you happy with your current looks?: Kinda? I really need to cut my hair because it’s gotten so long it’s annoying. But I can put up with it until it’s safe again bc pandemic. My hair is not that important I assure you.

53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?: Oh God, could I be taller? Like at least 5’3”? Which is still teeny but better than my 4’9” ass.

Do you have any piercings or tattoos?: I have 3 piercings and three tattoos (two finished, one in progress)

55. Do you get complimented often?: Maybe? I’m oblivious to the point that you could have a flashing neon sign with the compliment written on it and it would probably still go over my head.

56. Favourite aesthetic?: Biker Chic!

57. A popular trend that you dislike: Neon.

58. Songs you’re currently obsessed with?: Blessed Be - Spiritbox.

59. Song you normally wouldn’t admit you like: If I like a song, I like it. But if I have to pick one, I know everyone hates Despacitio. I know, ok but I really like the original version bc I like the sound. Latin music always has a fun groove to it.

60. Favourite genre?: Rock & Metal.

61. Favourite artist/band/genre?: Type O Negative, Pallbearer, Ice Nine Kills. Give me all the goth rock/metal and just fun metal in general.

62. Hated popular songs/artists?: Oh boy... don’t hate me but I um... don’t care too much for T Swift? And I’m not a fan of country.

63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5: Devil’s // Door - VCTMS, Karasu - The GazettE, Path - Apocalyptica, I Walk the Line - Halsey, Drumming Song - Florence + the Machine

64. Can you sing or play any instruments?: I can kinda play bass but I’m still learning so it’s just like... the very bare basics.

65. Do you like karaoke?: I’m very self-conscious so no.

66. Own any albums?: Yes, though majority are digital.

67. Do you listen to radio? What stations?: Yes. I have it on for background noise in my room in which case I don’t pay attention to it, but I have XM radio in my car where I listen to Octane/Liquid Metal/Turbo.

68. Favourite movie/series?: The Dark Knight trilogy or Hellraiser or Nightbreed.

69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc: Horror, Sci-fi, and fantasy.

70. Your fictional crush/es: Too many. Look at my OCs and their SO’s and you’ll find a bunch of them.

71. Which fictional character is you?: My friends would say Mira Jane from Fairy Tail. My bestie says Mercedes from Fire Emblem Three Houses (minus the devout part bc... I do not have nice feelings re-religion. You do you though!).

72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so: Yes, and once again you’ll be reading for eternity. So I’ll sum it up as too many to list.

73. Favourite greek god?: Apollo.

74. A legend from where you live that you like: It’s said that before big disasters happen in the town I live in + the surrounding areas, that you’ll see a panther. Supposedly one has been seen before at least 4 different bad things that have happened over the years. I’m in the midwest though so take that as you will.

75. Do you like art?: I do but I don’t really have a favorite. ... I am kinda partial to Van Gogh though.

76. Can you share your other social media?: I have a Pinterest but since my other social media has my name (which I also share with an OC whoops. That’s what I get for being indecisive and going the first name the name generator gave me) I’d rather not. If you ask and we’re friends I’ll probably give it to you but...

77. Favourite youtubers?: I don’t really watch too many anymore but I’ve been watching a lot of jacksepticeye’s gameplay. Aside that I tend to just watch channels like PlayStation Access or Outsidexbox.

78. Favourite platform?: Instagram

79. How much time do you spend on the internet?: More than I should, I’m sure.

80. What video games have you played? Which one’s your favourite? Uh, if I had to list them all you’d literally be reading this for eternity. To sum it up, I mostly play RPGs/JRPGs, open-world, survival horror (my fave), and a few (emphasis on few) FPS. Favorites are (once again with a limit): Bioshock, Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Until Dawn, Silent Hill 2, and Fatal Frame.

81. Your favourite books (manga also counts): do you know how f*cking hard this question is as someone who’s a bookworm? Ok, ok um... Gotta have a limit or I’ll never shut up... um... Three favorites: The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, Horns by Joe Hill, and American Gods by Neil Gaiman.

82. Do you play board/card games?: On occasion! They’re best with bigger groups but alas, my apartment is rather small and I don’t have a lot of space for multiple people so I don’t play them often.

83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema? No, but it sounds fun.

84. Favourite holiday: Halloween!

85. Are you into dramas?: As in, tv dramas? Kinda? I have a friend on lived in SK for a time and got into K-dramas so I watch them with her from time-to-time when she visits.

Would you use a Death Note if you had one?: No.

87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?: Oh boy... make everyone get along, ensure everyone could live their life to the best possible, etc.

88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse?: Possibly.

89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be?: I’m going with mythical instead of strictly paranormal but... a vampire!

90. What would you want to happen to you after your death?: As in to my body? Cremate me. To my stuff, give my books to a good home and take care of my bird.

91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick?: Most people call me by my middle name already since I got tired of people calling me the wrong name (& I like my middle name better) and insisting my first name was actually a nickname (it’s not, it’s the same as the musician I’m named after) so if I were to eventually be bothered enough, I’d have it legally changed to my middle name.

92. Who would you switch your life with for a week?: I don’t know to be honest. I’m fairly happy with my life so I think I’d just not switch.

93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo: 🌊

94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true: I took karate classes for several years, I’ve never dyed my hair, I’ve had two jobs thus far.

95. Cold or hot?: Cold I guess? If we’re talking in reference to seasons give me cool (aka Fall).

96. Be a hero or be a villain?: Hero because being a villain would mean I’d have to be mean to people and I can’t even pick the mean options in video games without feeling guilty so...

97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?: um... no? I’m not quite certain what this means but I’m going to go with no?

98. Shapeshifting or controlling time?: Shapeshifting!

99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?: Immortal.

#get to know me #get to know siren #my face #please DON’T REBLOG #my apologies to anyone on mobile #i put a read more and it shows up if i view my blog in my web browser but isn’t showing when i view it in the app!

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1068

What internet browser do you use? Chrome. It’s what I’m used to, but I also think it looks the cleanest among the other available browsers.

What brand water do you drink? (Smart Water, Dasani, etc) I never reach for imported water brands like Evian because what is the point?? The local bottled water brands we have like Summit and Absolute work fine and already do a great job of quenching my thirst.

Do you have a job? Yes and I go back tomorrow and I’m cringing thinking about it. I love my job, but I wish it wasn’t so mercilessly hectic for 9 straight hours, 5 days a week. I like to think that I was hired right at the start of all the simultaneous Christmas campaigns of our clients which is why everything seemed busy; so I’m hoping the workload will start to die down a little bit now that all the holidays are over.

Are you full-time or part-time? Full-time.

Are you watching TV right now? Nope. I was watching on YouTube earlier, but I decided to focus on this.

Or are you listening to music? No. It’s silent here in the living room, just the way I want it to currently be.

Would you go to jail for 3 years for $1,000,000? I don’t think that’s enough money for a dare that big.

When's your birthday? April 21st.

Thoughts on kids? I’m a lot less idealistic about them now. I used to want kids with my only formula being “I’ll do the exact opposite of what my mom did with me.” but I realized it’s so much more complicated than that. Raising a kid/kids is a whole damn job in itself and I see that with how my cousins of the same age, but from different families, have been acting. My cousins from one family are really spoiled and entitled, and I can’t last in a room with them for more than a minute; but my cousins in another family are so ridiculously well-behaved I can’t even start to fathom how respectful and kind they are. That observation has scared me away from kids in the meantime, because I still have to figure out how to not fuck such a responsibility up.

Worst punishment you've ever received by your parents? The worst thing they ever did was take away my laptop privileges for an indefinite period when I was 11, when they caught me being a dumbass on social media and cursing all over the place. It’s a reasonable punishment per se, but that was also a time when the internet was starting to become a resource and requirement for homework and school projects; so my parents didn’t know how many things I failed to submit because they didn’t allow me on the internet.

Are you the type who is completely against abortion? I am pro-choice and pro-pregnant people should be allowed to make decisions about their own bodies. I don’t like the idea of abortion, but I’ve always believed people should have access to resources to learn more about it, to a healthy culture that embraces it as an option, and to actual facilities that will enable them to receive one if the need be.

Have you ever read a book that actually changed your outlook on life? No, I don’t think so. Not yet at least.

Does your favorite flower hold any meaning to you? Peonies don’t mean anything in particular. I just think they look pretty.

What would you do if your favorite animal became endangered? I can’t imagine dogs ever getting endangered, but hypothetically I’d be crushed. I’d do the same thing I would do with other endangered animals, which is to spread the word about their situation and what can be done to save them from getting even fewer in number.

Have you ever owned an expensive eyeshadow palette? No. I never cared for makeup. I’m turning 23 and still don’t feel the need to invest in it...should I be worried?

Do you own a tripod for your camera? We used to, but I have not seen it in a long time.

Are your nails always painted? They never are.

What's one thing you've had a toxic reaction to? A breakup. < This was true for me too, at least for a time. Another one would be the barbecue that my uncle bought for a family gathering once that was definitely contaminated with something...shit gave me food poisoning at 3 AM and made me think my half-naked self was going to die right then and there in the bathroom.

Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for? We only ever decorate for Christmas, so I guess it wins by default.

Were you popular in school? By the second half of high school I was hanging out with the popular groups and getting invited to popular kid things, but I never wanted to claim to be popular myself. I still liked letting my friends take the spotlight.

Are there any foods that often give you heartburn or indigestion? Is there something you intend to buy in the near future? Is anyone in your family artistically talented? What about musically? What cute behaviors or characteristics does/do your pet(s) have? What's the screensaver on your computer? Crossing these out as I believe this survey is a shuffle of questions from many different surveys...? and I have already answered these five in a past survey I recently finished.

What’s the sexiest thing about a guy? I don’t really care for guys, I think... I still haven’t made up my mind about them yet, but all I know is I definitely have not felt seriously attracted to any irl man my whole life.

What’s the sexiest thing about a girl? THIGHS

Who were you with at midnight on January 1, 2021? Who was the last person to send you a message on social media? ^ What qualities does this person have, that you appreciate? What was the last thing that caused you to scowl, or frown? Have you smiled at any point during the last hour? What was the last thing you consulted Google for? So, did anyone send you a "Happy New Year" message when midnight hit? When was the last time you were on a carousel? What is the closest you have ever been to an elephant? Have you ever played Halo? Have you ever read a National Geographic magazine? When was the last time you had a pillow fight? Name somebody who you think deserves more respect: In your own words, define what the word sexy means. What is the most popular tourist attraction where you live? Without looking - do you know what brand your underwear is? Are you any good at volleyball? Have you ever had a water balloon fight? Same situation as above. What an interesting order of questions, hehe. Still having fun with this though!

Do you think some babies are ugly? Newborns are super wrinkly and make the strangest facial expressions from time to time. That won’t stop me from cooing at them, though.

Don’t you miss Chuck E. Cheese? I’ve never been there. Is it like a standard birthday party events place for kids?

Do you think Fall Out Boy is gonna be a classic band, like Queen or AC/DC? In time, maybe.

Do you love stuff-crusted pizza? Yessssss.

Do you apply lotion after you bathe? I don’t, but I should probably pick it up as a habit seeing how dry my skin can get.

What’s your favorite color? Pastel pink. < Same!

Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? Gabie.

Has a YouTube video of yours ever gotten over 10,000 views? I’ve never even posted a video on YouTube.

Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? Not my spot of choice, so maybe not.

Do you like Robert Frost poems? I’m only familiar with one and I’m having a little trouble remembering it rn haha.

Do you go to church every Sunday? We used to go to church, yeah; back when it was okay to. Our local church has allowed face-to-face masses again (but with very limited attendees) but my mom has preferred for us to stay home, so for the last few months we’ve been watching livestreams of Sunday mass every week.

Have you ever been in a relationship on-and-off for more than a year? I would say Gab and I were on-and-off, but it went on a lot longer than a year. The total time would amount to six years.

If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Writing. Or modeling, if I could only pull it off.

What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? I seriously don’t care. I skip out on bras all the time because I honestly personally don’t need them, and everyone should be allowed to feel and act the same way.

What is the last thing you tried on in a store? I never do this. Even before Covid, I’ve felt iffy about trying clothes that many others have already put on and were probably not washed 100% well. I’d rather get something, try it on at home, decide if it’s a good fit or not, and then return it ASAP if it ends up being the latter.

Is sleeping naked more comfortable than in clothes? My mom doesn’t knock so I’ve always been scared to try sleeping naked (and she also throws a fit if she catches me locking my door, which is like - then why did you even buy a doorknob with a lock??), but I definitely see the appeal.

Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone? Yes for the more part lmao, but I don’t know if I’ve ever made out in a dream.

Do you feel as though you have a good memory, or are you forgetful at times? Do you feel that your short-term memory or long-term memory is better? Have you ever had a concussion or some other sort of brain injury before? Do you have any sort of mental illnesses or disorders? What do they involve? What’s the longest that your hair has ever been? How about the shortest? When is the last time that you got it cut? What are some ways that you style your hair? Do you use any sorts of products in it? Who was the last person to truly get on your nerves? What do you think caused you to feel that way?

Do you recycle? Is this through choice or do you live somewhere where it’s compulsory? Through choice. Waste management is sadly not much of a priority here, if at all.

Do you prefer plain, carbonated, or flavored water? Do you think you drink enough water throughout the day? I have never tried the latter two. Water has always been tasteless and plain to me, and I never understood the point of customizing something that’s meant to be tasteless and uncarbonated. There are days where I’m able to have several glasses and other days where I unconsciously skip out on water until dinner.

Have you ever needed to call the police, ambulance, or fire department? Fortunately I’ve never had to call any of these.

When was the last time you visited the library? What was the purpose of your visit? I wasssssss maybe having something printed? If it wasn’t that, I was probably returning a book.

Do you see a lot of wild animals where you live? Are any of them dangerous? None of that here, especially since I live in the city. A sighting of a wild animal outside of a zoo or eco-park would definitely make national news, like that time an ostrich was seen running around a private village many months ago.

Aside from when you were born, have you ever had to stay the night in the hospital? Yep, from a dengue scare that turned out to be just a simple low platelet count.

Have you ever experienced a panic attack? Yes, but they are extremely rare. The last time I had one was maybe two or three years ago. Unfortunately I think all my panic attacks were caused by and involved my mom.

Would you ever want to go into the medical profession? Was your answer different pre-COVID? For a time, when I was hating journalism in college, I was daydreaming about the idea of shifting to biology and making the drastic swerve to med school. But I knew a love of memorizing and biology topics won’t be enough for me to be successful in the medical field, so I quickly shot the idea down.

Where you live, are people paying attention to whatever restrictions are in place to help control COVID? Many? People are definitely following and have been obedient with protocol in different places. Some cities are also still strict with maintaining their checkpoints and banning tourists from entering their area just yet. It’s the government that hasn’t really been making the effort to put measures to contain the virus.

Do you get a real or artificial Christmas tree? Artificial. I don’t know if getting real trees for Christmas trees is a thing here.

What’s your favourite type/flavor of popcorn? Cheddar cheese.

Do you drink oat milk? Nopes. I’d like to try it just to say that I have (and I might end up loving it too), but I have yet to look up what foods or drinks it works best with.

Do you love thrifting? Sure, sometimes I get good finds from it.

Do you consider using only lowercase letters your aesthetic? Sometimes I’ll use it in a Powerpoint or a tweet, but I wouldn’t say it’s an aesthetic that defines me as a person.

Do you say “mood?” Too much.

Do you own fairy lights? No. I wanted those before, but I’m not so sure if I still do now.

Do you own glass straws because the metal ones kind of gross you out because you can’t tell if they are clean or not? I don’t own glass straws. Most places have changed their cups into a design that you can sip directly from, anyway.

Have you made a TikTok? No, don’t care.

Do you own airpods? No, but would like a pair.

Are you afraid of Mercury in retrograde? I really don’t care.

Do you make life choices based on astrology? No, I don’t believe in it. It scares me how much some people rely on it and use it as an actual moral compass or judgment system. It doesn’t harm anyone so I never actively speak out against astrology, but it scares me nonetheless.

How many pairs of converse shoes do you own? One pair. I used to own another one, but my mom threw it out several years ago.

Number of jeans in your closet: I would say like 10-12.

What accent do you have? Philippine English/Americanized Filipino, I guess.

Do you have a big butt? I’d say it’s decently-sized.

Do you count how long you and your gf/bf have been together? Yeah, before.

Have you graduated? Both high school and college, yup.

Rihanna or Lady GaGa? I like Rihanna’s music more, but I love Gaga’s outfits, concepts, and stage presence more. Do you use fake eyelashes? No. I had to use them twice, but I’d never seek them out on my own.

Which was the last book that really captivated you? It’s been a while since I encountered a book like this.

What makeup brands do you use? I don’t use makeup.

#survey #surveys

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theunderdogwrites · 4 years ago

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Green Lives Matter

My favorite Halloween costume from my childhood (age 10) was The Hulk.

For three reasons:

1. I made it myself

2. I wore it two years in a row

3. It made my outside look how I felt on the inside – tough but complicated

I cut up an old pair of jeans to look as though my tiny legs had busted through the seams and to make it appear like I’d grown taller. I took an old white dress shirt and shredded the sleeves to symbolize my biceps exploding in rage and slightly shredded away the length. I put black (safe) spray paint in my hair and painted my legs, arms and face in Hulk green to complete the look. There is a photo of this masterpiece somewhere in an old album, I just don’t have access to it right at this moment. I know I looked magnificent because I remember the feeling of hiding behind this larger than life character for a night while grunting for candy or else “HULK SMASH!” your front door down. I love this memory.

Now let’s address this – I did green face.

I refuse to apologize and if The Hulk wants to come find me and break me like a hard pretzel, well then he better bring backup because even though I am no longer painting my face green… I have turned myself into a Hulk. Ok, a mini Hulk. But I can conjure up a temper and throw a tantrum while also being completely unreasonable and void of real direction. So... yeah, he’s going to need someone other than Black Widow to come with him.

I should mention that I am white. And not just white – I am Scottish white (Scottish heritage, born in Canada). Fair skinned, blonde hair, green eyes and I once thought mashed potatoes were the best food of all time. Until I discovered garlic mashed potatoes. Mind blown.

“I love humanity, but I hate humans.” – Albert Einstein

Let’s not lie – being white has its privileges. Do I know what all those privileges are? No, probably because I’m privileged in some way. But I find myself going back to the same bit to explain so much that I encounter in life:

Until my high school guidance councillor explained to me what suicide was, I had no idea it was a thing. I had no idea it was a possibility and I certainly did not know that many people were actively participating.

My lack of knowledge wasn’t due to privilege but rather because suicide had never been apart of my life experience. Would we call that ignorance? Some definitely would because it literally means ‘being unaware’. I feel an ignorant person is not only being unaware, but also a first-rate wanker because they won’t educate themselves or evolve and wish to remain blind to reality.

Once I became aware of suicide, I didn’t pretend it didn’t exist. I started to pay attention. I didn’t brush it off as an experience that didn’t affect me but rather a symptom of fragile mental health and I gave it the consideration it deserved as something that many people were suffering through… most of the time alone. If I see something that is wrong, that I know needs my support – I am there.

That is not my privilege speaking, that is my humanity.

The senseless murder of George Floyd ignited a firestorm.

(A firestorm is a conflagration (an extensive fire which destroys a great deal of land or property) which attains such intensity that it creates and sustains its own wind system. It is most commonly a natural phenomenon, created during some of the largest bushfires and wildfires.)

When I saw the footage on the news – I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand the blank, almost twisted look on that officer’s face as he drove his knee down on George Floyd’s neck. I didn’t understand the blatant inaction of the other officers while witnessing this brutal extinguishing of a human being. I didn’t understand why this level of aggression was necessary on someone who was already subdued. And I didn’t understand why the words “I can’t breathe” didn’t invoke an ounce of compassion or relief.

Then came the protesting. Then the riots. Then the looting. And I still didn’t understand.

While some people want to group all three of these events, in my mind, these are three separate actions. Because by attaching the riots and the looting with the genuineness of the protesting… it lessons the cause, blurs the intention and distracts from the truth… therefore painting the protestors with a brush of violence, greed and chaos. And that is beyond unfair.

The PROTESTS are NOT out of control.

The pain and frustration are what’s out of control and more importantly the injustice is out of control and people are responding to a situation where they feel angry and powerless. Yes, the fires, destruction of property and looting are awful collateral here but it’s important to not loose focus on what caused this current situation. We often look at with contempt and criticize reactions while forgetting the action that started everything.

And that is another injustice.

I wouldn’t even know how to begin writing about Black Lives Matter or Antifa. I say this because of the controversy surrounding both movements. And if you dive deep enough into the internet, like I did, you too will begin to suffer from what I like to call ‘I don’t know what to fucking think anymore-itis’.

So, I’m going to escape talking about these two groups with this:

“Instead of feeling threatened by and hating a movement, be glad you don’t need a movement.”

My experience with black people is pretty limited. Not by choice, but rather due to geography, common interests and quite possibly socioeconomics. I can count on one hand the number of black people I knew throughout my school-aged years. My area was diverse in other ways, so no, I did not grow up in White Breadville. I mention all this to lay down a bit of background before I continue.

“I don’t see colour.” How many of us have said this at least once in the last six months? I have. And I probably said it to prove to myself or someone else that I wasn’t racist. But I no longer say that… because the truth is, I do see colour. I see ALL the fucking colours and they are beautiful. It’s people who are ugly.

If you were to ask me point blank if I was racist, I’d tell you point blank – I am not. And I’d say this with absolute belief in my character and sincerity. I care less about your skin colour and nationality and more about you returning your shopping cart to its proper location. That is the truth. Your religion doesn’t bother me at all (as long as you’re not cramming it down my throat) but your ability to treat others with genuine kindness and compassion sure matters to me. And I don’t give a flying fuck how you want to identify… be a Martian, I’m totally cool with that, but bully others in my presence and I will come at you with the full force of nuclear pasta (look it up).

The last handful of months (I’m assuming here) has caused most of us to pull up and examine those deep in the corner of our brain concepts. You know the ones – the ones that might get you questioned by The Thought Police if they existed outside of fiction. It’s ok, we all have those little bastard notions creeping around… no matter the skin colour. I started to take a closer look at some of the things I think and how they would affect others if I wore those thoughts on a t-shirt. Needless to say, I’m not super impressed with myself. Because while I know with all my heart that I am not a racist person, I do recognize that I buy into and perpetuate some stereotypes. And I have zero excuses. This admission makes me a bit uncomfortable, but I’m ok with that… I can learn through discomfort.

I hear many people talking about and referring to white guilt.

- White Guilt: ‘the feelings of shame and remorse some white people experience when they recognize the legacy of racism and racial injustice and perceive the ways they have benefited from it’.

I do not feel shame and remorse as a white person. As a human being, I am ashamed of how many of my fellow humans treat those who do not look the way they do or do not come from the same background. Do I believe there is a legacy of racism and racial injustice? Yes, 100%. Have I benefitted from this because I am white? I may be too dumb to answer this correctly. Or maybe too white? Or maybe I’ve had blinders on because based upon my own level of perception, I’ve always struggled to navigate my own existence therefore only know what has directly prevented me from being who and what I want in this world?

I underlined ‘level of perception’ because as the quote goes: “I stopped explaining myself when I realized people only understand things from their level of perception”

Earlier I said there were so many things I didn’t understand about George Floyd’s death and the protests etc. but here is something I do comprehend - there’s a big difference between understanding someone’s plight and being understanding of someone’s plight. Sympathy doesn’t require a total understanding of what problems other people are experiencing.

I may not fully grasp the struggles of those in the black community because it is not my experience but I will not ignore, deny or challenge their struggles. I will however educate myself on the issues, observe my own reactions and offer support in the ways I can and offer compassion to anyone who is willing to accept a little love from a min Hulk.

Nothing I write here is meant to change your mind. It is not meant to offend or shame you for how you may feel or think and nothing I write here is meant to lessen the seriousness of the current situation facing an entire community of people. As a writer my only goal is often to just disrupt your thoughts. Period.

#thehulk #blm #perception #george floyd

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wolfliving · 4 years ago

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Meanwhile, in the American public library

LibrariAnne

@Annebrarian

Jun 13

Our library system closed to the public on March 25th. All staff worked from home until April 9th, when the branch began providing curbside pickup of unemployment forms (soon adding food assistance and census forms) with a limited staff.

By the end of April, all staff were working in the branch on a rotating schedule, with the only exceptions for staff who were over 65 or could provide a doctor's certificate stating they had an underlying condition that put them at risk.·

On May 4th, we opened for curbside - theoretically only of pickup for holds placed online and drop-off of returns, but patrons are patrons, and in the spirit of customer service we were encouraged to also offer reader's advisory services and choose books for patrons walking up.

We were scheduled for full opening to the public on June 1st, which was delayed due to protests impacting our main branch; even though we weren't open, all staff were called in and we were encouraged to "soft open" by allowing patrons in to use computers when walkups requested.

We opened officially to the public with full access to computers, stacks, and library study spaces on June 8th.

Restrictions:

1) Tables were moved 6 feet apart. Staff were told to tell patrons they could not share them except with immediate family. This went about as well as you'd think it would.

2) Study and conference rooms are closed and unavailable.

3) Every other computer has been covered in a notice that it is unavailable to prevent patrons from sitting next to each other. In spite of login software preventing use, patrons have persisted in repeatedly trying to turn on the "extra" computers for use anyway. Staff exhausted.

4) Every other chair and several feet of each couch area were marked off with caution tape to prevent patrons from sitting too close together. Guess how that's going.

5) Patrons are required to wear masks when entering the building. If they don't have one, we provide one.

Of course, there is no way to prevent them from constantly taking them off, pulling them down to expose mouth and nose, and/or wearing hideously dirty ones. All of which they are constantly doing, with staff unable to keep up with asking them to stop and/or dealing with tantrums.

6) Patrons are also required to sanitize their hands with provided gel sanitizer upon entry. This has resulted in several doorway rumbles as patrons were insulted, refused and left, or accused us of trying to poison them with chemicals.

7) Floor decals mark directions for patron lines and proper social distancing spacing. They are roundly ignored. A fun additional anecdote: several of us got to watch the branch manager laying new ones down...

...while on the other side of the building, security chased around a patron who was following behind him, ripping them up, and throwing them away in the public bathroom. (He informed us, after being asked for his reasoning, that he just wanted to help us break free of the hoax.)

(It was like watching a Family Circus bit, but much more despairing.)

7) Staff are in a state of constant sanitization, wiping down tables, counters, and chairs. Signs implore patrons to do the same with provided wipes, but they generally don't.

8) Returned materials are quarantined (in the loading bay where staff frequently pass) for 48 hours.

(This isn't a knock on this branch manager or any other. We're doing the best we can. There just isn't room to quarantine hundreds and hundreds of books somewhere that no one ever goes. Public libraries don't have that much space.)

Given all of this, where do you think morale is? It's not anywhere good. Staff are doing their best to support one another

Maybe things would be less overwhelming if staff weren't in a state of constantly trying and failing to prevent patron misbehavior, but they are.

People are already giving up, and it's hard to blame them. How many times per day can you ask someone to put their mask back on, not knowing which one will result in them snapping on you and yelling abuse or threatening worse?

How many times can you refuse to use someone's computer for them or touch their device, followed by a torrent of abuse and complaints about bad service, before you just decide it's easier to risk death than to deal with one more person yelling at you?

How many ttraumatic encounters (because all the patrons are also stressed, angry, resentful) does it take before you decide that a mask over a mouth is better than nothing and just give up asking them for the 10th time to cover their nose?

This is about to devolve into a vent thread, but the point is this: this is the nicest possible way I can present this information. Being open right now is dangerous, miserable, and borderline abusive to staff.

Patrons who are still isolating are not using these services and are not being served any more than they were; many still call in, terrified and disappointed to learn that we can't disinfect the books or guarantee safety. Patrons who are here think we should chill out.

The most important things we're providing are the social services: employment and food services, access to the internet so that people can reach out to support nets and apply for jobs and help. Places for our homeless patrons, travelers, and those from dangerous homes to rest.

But, as usual, these are things that shouldn't be the job of libraries to provide. These are places where the social services of our government have failed those people, and instead of addressing that, the library is just open as a stop-gap instead.

Library workers are suffering and afraid. Library patrons are in danger in a system where, no matter how hard we try and what measures we take, we can't truly keep them safe. This isn't working.

And I am terribly afraid that it will continue not working until, after the second or third or however many waves, the pandemic is declared over, and we'll never know how many of our staff or patrons didn't survive it because the library, wanting to help, endangered them instead.

I'd like to add this morning since folks are reading this: it's important to remember that this impacts our most vulnerable staff the hardest. Folks who don't have other employment options and can't afford to lose the years they vested into this job.

Folks who don't have advanced degrees and can't afford to get them, who don't have savings, who support families and illnesses. They have no choice but to be here.

Our staff is also somewhere around 80% people of color, majority Black and Latinx, and it's more than obvious that the higher you go in the admin structure, the white it gets. That's not a coincidence.

Please support your fellow library staff if you can.

Nobody should be in the conference rooms -- they're closed. Use that space (?)

We only have two (open-plan space) small ones and they're right off the public floor, so since that would having to wheel quarantined items past the public, we have been instructed not to do so. Thank you, though!

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emma-nation · 5 years ago

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I Almost Do (Mona x MC)

Summary: Inspired by the song, “I Almost Do” by Taylor Swift. Mona’s life and reflections after the events of Ride Or Die Book 1.

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Rating: G

MonaxMC Tag List: @zoe6111, @simsvetements, @whoinvitedalx, @abunchofbadchoices, @kamilahmademedoit, @talkinlikeateen, @eagle-one-1, @andreear17, @monagf, @nighthunterss, @fal-carrington, @crazzyplays, @honorablebicycle, @averyswilshere, @iam-the-fuckin-queen

Notes: I had this forgotten on my drafts for quite a while now. I just found it and as I miss Mona a lot, I decided to post.

“Why do I even have to learn this useless shit?” The moronic High School teenager threw her pencil across the table and rolled her eyes, frustrated because she was unable to solve a simple math equation. “Who cares about SATs? I’m gonna be a model, jeez!“

She stood up, kicking off the chair and went back to her bedroom, where she began to talk dirty to her boyfriend.

“Why do I have to do this again?” Mona thought to herself. The answer was obvious. Community service. Tutoring kids in poor financial conditions, who were close from failing school. Some were tolerable and willing to learn, but another…

She sat down at the couch, staring at her watch as she counted the hours to complete one more day of her alternative penalty. Filling the report, she lied, marking it as achieved task. She had done her part after all.

It was a little bit over 7 PM when she arrived at her mother’s small apartment in Bronx. A stupid incident at the subway caused her to be late, violating her 6 PM curfew. If only she was allowed to drive again.

“You’re late,” her mother complained. “What if the officer had called you and you weren’t here to pick up?”

“Trouble at the subway,” Mona told, throwing her backpack in some corner in the living room. “It wasn’t my fault.”

Her explanation wasn’t enough. At the kitchen, her mother scowled at her with her arms crossed and narrowed eyes. It was time for another lecture. Another scolding.

“Do you ever consider I had to humiliate myself to your father, so he could get out of jail?”

“Never asked for it,” she made her way to the small corridor that lead to her old bedroom.

“You ran away, you got yourself involved with a gang, you got shot… as if it wasn’t enough, you managed to get in trouble with the FBI. The FBI! I wonder, every single day, where I went so wrong with you. If that was because of your father, you’ve got what you wanted after all. He used his money to bribe a judge and ease your penalty.”

It wasn’t completely true. Mona was declared innocent in the Brotherhood case. She also disclosed all the information she knew about Jason Shaw and his gang. She refused to speak about Mercy Park Crew. They had no concrete proof of her involvement with Kaneko’s crew. Only witnesses’ reports and suspicions.

Being influent and rich, her father, the very same douchebag that abandoned her when she was just a toddler, worked on his ways to send her back to New York. Where she was punished with community service and parole. She was also forced to attend classes for High School drop-outs, in order to get a GED, and sessions with a therapist.

Mona slammed the bedroom’s door shut. She threw herself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. There wasn’t much she could do after all. Her mother had forbidden any access to internet or cell phone. Watching TV was her only option, but the channels were very limited, considering their budget wouldn’t allow them to pay for more.

She sat at her desk. Evidence of her old life was still all around, as a reminder of her past mistakes. In the drawer, she still kept the acceptance letters she received, from multiple universities, shortly before her first imprisonment. She grabbed an empty paper and a pen, attempting to start another letter.

“Dear Allison…” she started.

Within the weeks Mona spent in prison in California, she received a few letters from her lover. She refused to read or even open them. It was like putting salt in a open wound. That affection was temporary. Allison had just started college, why on Earth was she supposed to remember her criminal ex-girlfriend? The desire for a healthy and normal life would never allow her to keep this passion going for too long. There was also her father, Detective Wheeler, that hated Mona to his guts. He would never allow them to be together.

Mona crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash can. She couldn’t do that. Even if Allison wasn’t so far away, studying at Langston University, it wasn’t a good idea. She couldn’t bear the thought of learning she had moved on, or the thought of having to say goodbye again.

Dinner was ready. Another insult session with her mom. No matter how hard Mona was trying, their relationship would never be the same as before. She’d never look at her as her loving and smart daughter again. All she could see was a dirty criminal, who she was ashamed of.

“I called your therapist today. She told me you won’t say a single word during the sessions.”

“I don’t need therapy.”

“Your parole officer thinks so. Your current behavior is inconsistent with the person you used to be, two years ago, there must be something wrong.”

“I made my own decisions. I’m an adult.”

“Then start behaving like one.”

The late hours of the night were Mona’s favorite. She would sneak out to the building’s rooftop, only to look at the stars.

“What are you doing at this time of the night, nerd?” She spoke to the Universe. “Probably so bored and tired as I am.”

Being such a nerd, Allison was probably studying for a hard exam. Of course, even in college, she needed to work hard to maintain her #1 position in all her classes. Mona liked to imagine the picture they took at her Prom was lying somewhere on her desk, and that she’d look at it once in a while, to keep herself motivated.

“Wishful thinking,” in reality she should be making out with some rich frat guy.

In the next morning, her mother left early for work, as usual. After speaking to the parole officer over the phone, Mona checked her schedule. No brainless teenagers to teach. No therapist to analyze her. She had an entire day of freedom.

Wearing her best outfit and full of determination, she went to the subway station. She was going to Langston. It wasn’t doing any good for her mental health to have unfinished business. Maybe that would even help her to get discharged earlier from therapy.

Before she could enter the subway though, she took a step back. It was stupid. Completely stupid. Her presence would only embarrass Allison in front of her new group of friends and teachers, maybe even cause her trouble.

Upset, Mona turned around, ready to go back to Bronx, when a voice called her.

“Mona?!”

It was strangely familiar and… soft. She felt her cheeks blushing a little bit. Before turning around, she stared down at the floor for a second, only to be sure she wasn’t hearing things.

“Mona,” a pair of arms embraced her from behind, confirming she wasn’t dreaming. “It’s really you!”

She finally faced her. The girl she took to a stupid school Prom. The girl she got in trouble for. The girl she took a bullet for. The girl she loved.

“Allison,” she spoke. “Hey.”

Allison’s eyes were a little bit teary, after hugging her tightly again, she looked inside Mona’s eyes and stroked her cheek.

“I heard you were back in New York and I managed to get your address. I was just going to visit you.”

“Why?”

“Because I miss you? Because…” the embarrassment didn’t let her finish the sentence, but Mona knew what she meant, because she felt exactly the same.

“Yeah, ‘cause… that. Those three stupid words. I know, right?”

Allison smiled and nodded in confirmation. For the first time in months, Mona managed to smile for real. She took Allison’s hand.

“So… I was thinking…” she bit her lower lip. “Let’s start this again. The right way this time. Would you like to go out for a coffee?”

“A pretty girl is asking me out?!” Allison laughed. “How could I say no?“

#ride or die #mona #rod mona #mona x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #ride or die fanfiction

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tedfashionski · 4 years ago

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Seeing Red

I was drawing today and reminded somehow of that depressing development where the sister of David & Samantha Cameron has been appointed editor of the Evening Standard. Like, I’m looking past the implied wider corruption problems in ‘real’ journalism here, but one point she said in her announcement interview really bothered me. She said, something to the effect of ‘Oh, thank god I spent 20 years working at Vogue while David was in politics, because I am just so fond of him and I would hate to have to be critical of him. So I was safe at Vogue.’

That, right there, sums up how far fashion media is from even being able to recognise the functional role of journalism. Oh, thankfully, at Vogue we can hide from criticality and awareness of the political dimensions of the world. All the while, the fashion industry is feeding this planet-killing spirit-crushing capitalist consumerism. But, no, why would it be political? Stop making it political. It’s just clothes.

K, I’m going to RANT a little about these digital fashion weeks we’ve just been subjected to. I’ll preface by saying, yeah, I get it, it’s hard to be creative in the thick of a pandemic. My standards have been accordingly lowered 20%. I am very generous.

Chanel and Dior’s lack of energy was no surprise. Although, keeping in mind female designers tend to be more pragmatic as a matter of course, it’s sad the two top women are being so listless. I was pleasantly surprised by Azzaro – it gave a hint of a vibe but was sure of itself. It emphasised that there was no reason for the Chanel & Dior videos & collections to exist, no point of view. The smaller couture players like the Dutch trinity of Ronald van der Kemp, Iris van Herpen, and Viktor & Rolf were a little more canny, you got the impression they were enjoying themselves at the very least.

Regarding men’s, I do think Rick Owens was actually well judged in its boringness – we don’t need product-based experimentation necessarily. I enjoyed the meta-narrative aspect, it seems to me a good time for that kind of subtle, slightly snide interplay of references. Yohji’s design’s really sang, the video could have worked harder, it felt thrown together and didn’t do the clothes justice. (Side note, that showstudio Yohji review video, 45 mins of failing to say anything, was what finally pushed me over the edge. Dude. Are you guys for real? ‘Where is the avant garde’? If you don’t know, give up already. I’m not even a Yohji fanbear but he deserves better.) Kiko gave us a real stab at a pscho-medieval vibe, and I would’ve written a full review about it cus there’s stuff going on there. But fuck that. If he doesn’t want to talk to us, and show his full vision to the public in a spirit of optimism and faith in the culture, why should I bother with him? Mean and snooty gatekeeping gets mean and snotty graffiti right back.

Fashion culture (twitter, specifically) wants to be wowed by everything all the time. Then, it complains and says why is fashion week even happening during a pandemic, now isn’t the time for fashion. Another example of our schizo cognitive dissonance as we consume this shit. What do we even want?

I’ll tell you what I want. I want fashion designers to be engaged in a collective speculative in-depth discussion of what the future feels like right now, as an artform. So, I’m not going to analyse anything as a commercial proposition, because the future features less and less buying shit. In part as I believe that with growing internet dispersal of OG systems, awareness will rise, the vocabulary will expand, and we’ll stop caring so much about the performative aspects of fashion clothing. The interiority aspect will only grow, and that means unique-feeling experiences that are like conversing with a familiar presence. The fashion designer as moot, a parasocial meta-commentator. A friend you don’t actually have to talk to, just talk with, in the culture. That process won’t start from a point of ‘buy my shit’. First, a relationship should be built up, set up and running along. Then, if product occurs it’s incidental. Wow, I’m being a real little weatherbear. Check out my prophecies!

So, I’m pretty disappointed and depressed about the resentful undertone of much of the work presented to us. Like, they’re crossing their arms and getting all grumpy about how they’re not allowed to carry on like they always do. FFS, you’re FASHION PEOPLE. Change is the name of the game, this shit should excite you. It’s your job to guide each other in an open-ended perusal of future possibilities, and to make recommendations. It’s not just clothes, they’re the medium, the language in which you build the commentary. If all you care about is nice product (*cough*, hedi slimane, *cough* jacquemus), stop calling yourself a fashion designer, because you’re a clothing manufacturer and I don’t care about you.

Why are all these videos so boring? Have any of these people heard of editing, rhythm? They do realise you can hire people for this kind of thing, right? The deadening lack of imagination amongst people whose full-time job it is to be creative about the present’s transition into the future is astounding. This really underlines the risks of nepotism and gatekeeping. The only people who can afford to participate are the gutless products of a bloated upper middle class. I don’t believe in that class’s creative capacities for one fucking minute. They’ve got nothing at stake, no guts to go against anything, because their boring shitty system works for them, so why should it change? Ugh, vom.

Where is the communicative power? Nothing is being said, it’s filler for an elite determined to go down with their ship. I’m glad it’s sinking, it wasn’t fit for purpose and I’ll happily stick some extra holes in to make it sink faster.

I’m going to single out Jonathan Anderson again. Listen, he’s a little pretty boy who’s working so effectively within the system, who has played the game perfectly to the best of his ability. His work is top level, he wins every time. So, I reckon he can be held up as an example. He can take it. I’m looking at the box-shows he did for Loewe and his own brand, and I’m thinking, oh that’s such a lovely take on alt fashion communication. So much heart, and care. Then, what’s the internet equivalent? A little video showing off the box. Some 3d shots & backs of looks and boxes. A little extemporised pitter patter from Jonny. That’s it. It’s still classist as fuck. With garment design there’ll always be limits on what’s possible in terms of digital translation. This isn’t actually garment design though. It’s fashion design. If I’m stuck with a low-grade clip and some jpegs, it’s pretty clear to me you don’t care about your wider fashion community. There should be an open digital experience that feels equally cared for and crafted. And here’s where I get really angry: all these fashion journalists have been delivered this unique, beautiful experience, and what are they doing with it? Where is the thoughtful response? Every single one of these people in this privileged position should be DOING THEIR JOBS (WHICH THEY ARE PAID TO DO, FULL TIME) and WRITE ABOUT FASHION. Not post online, ‘omg lovee ittt, so cutee!’. Anyone can do that. Are you a fan or a professional? This is an embarrassment. I’m stuck analysing some pixels. You’re getting the ‘real’ experience. I know I’ll never be an insider given these opportunities. I chose this path and I’m not going to try and play that game, because the rules are: you get access, in exchange for sacrificing criticality. Because these people, as educated and privileged as they are, don’t understand the value of criticism. Good criticism, the detailed, even handed, unafraid kind, pushes the culture forward. You can’t have a healthy art form without it, it’s essential because it’s the back in the back and forth. I probably could’ve tried to play their silly PR game a bit harder. But I had a nervous breakdown, in part, because I knew I would never be allowed to get close to the art enough to analyse it fairly if I spoke freely as I do now. And freedom is essential. So, pixels it is. Rudeness it is. Because there is work to do to salvage the bottom-dwelling wreck of our fashion dreams so that maybe we can travel somewhere new and better with them. It just sucks that there’s people standing there with the tools to help and no desire to save themselves or anyone else.

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