#It shouldn't be this difficult or expensive to just not die.

[punkinvsblogging]

Lol am I real

[torchwood-99]

The difference between a dry nurse and a healer

It's interesting how at a glance these two roles appear similar, and how Eowyn fiercely rejects the first yet embraces the latter, and what's more is vindicated in the narrative for rejecting the first, yet is celebrated for accepting the latter. So to understand Eowyn's arc, it's important to look at the differences between a dry nurse and a healer.

Eowyn states herself she is not a dry nurse. Gandalf points out to Eomer that part of Eowyn's depression comes from her having been forced into the role of dry nurse. And in his own commentary, Tolkien says that Eowyn isn't a dry nurse by nature. So that's the character, the in-narrative voice of reason, and the writer himself all saying that Eowyn is very much not a dry nurse.

Now, what is a dry nurse, and how does that differ from healer? A dry nurse nurses. Seeing as that was Eowyn's role with her uncle, we can presume that to be a dry nurse was to be like a carer, someone who takes care of a person and tends to them on a day to day basis. Eowyn's role wasn't to cure her uncle, but to make him comfortable and support him as best as she can.

This was a role that was foisted on Eowyn unwillingly, for she was a woman, and there's a prevalent idea that women are just "inherent carers", that is comes more easily to them and that this is is there natural role. That emotional burden, that denial of other choices, isn't seen as an injustice to Eowyn until Gandalf spells it out to Eomer at the end, because as a woman that's just what she's suited for. She shouldn't have wanted something else, and if she did, it meant she was either lacking in something, selfish or defective.

This all came at the expense of her own personhood, and so she ended up feeling like the "staff" Theoden leant on. She was his living crutch, and this dehumanisation played a massive part in her depression, which was made worse by Grima's influence.

For all that LOTR is a fantastical setting, Eowyn's plight was very grounded and applicable to modern day. As her uncle's carer, her life revolved around his needs and wellbeing, she was stuck in the home because she couldn't leave him alone, and her own hopes, her own dreams, ambitions and desires were put aside as of lesser consequence. And because she's a woman, and therefore naturally inclined and suited for all this, she should have felt alright with this, and any resentment on her part is a sign that there was something wrong with her.

She was isolated and stagnant and she felt she couldn't even speak of her resentment because it was her duty to tend to her uncle, (Gandalf tells Eomer that Eowyn didn't share much of her feelings because of the duty she felt to him), and all of this left her vulnerable to Grima's emotional abuse. This situation can so easily be transplanted into modern day.

Being a carer is a really difficult job, tending to both the physical and emotional needs of another person. It's emotionally draining and challenging and it's all the harder when it's a family member, as that doesn't allow you some of the distance and space that professional carers have, as well as a life outside work which allows you to enjoy other pursuits and interests.

It's a hard enough job for professional carers who genuinely feel a calling for it, who choose that role and find satisfaction in it and have a chance to decompress and lead lives of their own away from their work, but Eowyn never felt such a calling, and caring for Theoden wasn't her job but her life. Her life had been dedicated to tending to the needs of a single other person. And all the while she cared for him, she knew she couldn't heal him or prevent the awful things happening to her country. She wasn't a person, but a tool, and in her mind, a tool of limited ability.

No wonder she yearned to go and die gloriously. Her life was no life, and yet with a glorious death she could reclaim something for herself, exist in the songs as her own being with her own deeds. She could live on after her death as she has never lived in life.

In life, she could only watch as her brother and cousin and peers got to leave Edoras, where she was caged and hopeless, and go out and do stuff, with the ties of comradeship to support them. Already, without Grima's influence, it would have been easy for Eowyn to hate herself for her seeming uselessness, to resent the world and her society for shutting her into that role, and to hate herself for hating her role, for it meant she was a failure as a woman and a niece.

Compare that to the role of the healer. A healer, by its very definition, heals things. It fixes things. A healer can't always succeed, but that is the healer's goal. To heal.

Now, we don't know specifically what Eowyn meant by being a healer, whether she literally meant she wanted to train in the healing arts, to learn how to set bones, clean wounds, perform surgery or cure sickness, or if she meant she wanted to live a lifestyle given over to healing the world around her (her new home Ithilien needs clearing of orcs, is a military outpost, and and lies near Minas Morgul, so there is much to be healed there, with a sword too, yay!) or if she meant both.

A healer is active. A healer needs to leave the domestic sphere to go to where there is trouble and put it to rights, whereas a live in dry nurse stays in the home and tends to a patient in their domestic setting (which is partially why it's seen as a more feminine role).

Eowyn, fearless, longing for deeds and open fields, needs to get out, needs some risk, needs to be bold and needs to be able to do work which has some sort of final goal or success to fight towards. Being a dry nurse is being a lover, pouring out empathy and compassion and care, and being a healer is being a fighter, someone who faces challenges and overcomes them, and that is who Eowyn is by nature. Someone wants things and fights for them.

As a healer, Eowyn would have a variety of tasks; whether that be literal patients or general problems in the world, that need fixing, which gives her more change and also a break, for she won't have just one life she has to constantly attend to.

The active, combative nature that made her long to be a soldier is what makes her suited to be a healer (both literal and figurative), someone who is confronted with challenge after challenge and has to tackle them. Who must come up with a battle plan and then take up her tools and get to work, sticking at it until victory is won.

But whereas a soldier's business is bringing death, a healer's business is bringing life (even if that may mean clearing away dangers and sicknesses in order for that life to flourish. If Eowyn does mean healing figuratively, her work may often cross over into the work of the soldier, but the intent behind it will be different.) Becoming a healer reconciles Eowyn's desire to go to battle with the need for her to embrace life and peace.

She cannot stay at home "in the cage" because what needs healing is beyond her doorstep. And as a healer, when she has done her part healing others, healing the outside world, she can go home, which is now a sanctuary and not a cage, and then she gets to do something else.

As a healer, she will have deeds to accomplish and an existence beyond the walls of her home. And her home, being a place she now gets to leave, a place of comfort and leisure, is a home at last. It's a place she can escape to, not a place to escape from.

As Eowyn and Faramir play around with gender roles a fair bit, it's not surprising that Faramir, a man and a soldier and a bloody good one, is naturally more inclined to being a carer or "dry nurse" than Eowyn is, and in many ways he would have done much better as Theoden's carer than Eowyn did. (Not that Eowyn was bad as a carer, like Faramir she felt it was her duty and she put in the work, but Faramir would have personally coped with it better.)

If anything, it might have been a role that would have brought Faramir satisfaction, if not one completely devoid of heartache and difficulties, because even for those suited for it, being a carer requires a lot and is inevitably draining.

But Faramir is deeply compassionate, compassions and caring does come naturally to him, and he values it highly, so he would have taken pride in knowing he was easing another's suffering, He would have seen the successes and progress and been able to celebrate them. And crucially, his love of lore and studying would have been an escape and often a consolation for him, and given him something of his own to work on, so his own personhood wouldn't have revolved around who he was caring for. His work as a carer could have coexisted with his work as a scholar, and thus he would have been making use of both his natural empathy and intellectual curiosity.

Faramir is also very emotionally intelligent. He is very quick to understand others feelings, even before they do, and can give them very apt emotional support. See how he is with Eowyn, how understanding he is of her love for Aragorn (no resentment or jealousy, he gets it), and her despair and her inner conflicts, and is able to communicate with her really well due to that insight. Between the two, it is Faramir doing the bulk of the emotional support, which must come as a blessed relief for Eowyn after all that time as Theoden's living crutch.

This is also why they work so well as a pairing. They have both experienced what it's like to be a carer and a fighter, to carry the burden of warfare and nursing, and together they're a partnership capable of caring and fighting, dry nursing and healing. They can both do both, but where is inclined one way, the other is inclined another way, and thus they balance each other out.

[seoness]

Sandor with a s/o who loves to draw/sketch/paint him? It can be hcs or a drabble or anything really.

Book!Sandor please. He’s so ugly I love him. ☹️❤️‍🩹

Praise be, praise be. Ugly is hot. Now this is a miracle, but I'll not waste a thousand words haggling over the fact that the features he's described to have are actually those which I consider attractive BUT this is not a complete miracle and I will instead ramble on about the issue of painting/drawing/sketching.

We don't see it much in ASOIAF. The artistry mentioned is often mummery, embroidery/needling, sculptures, and tapestries. (Although some armors seem to be quite the works of art, I am looking at you Ser Loras Tyrell).

Now, I am not claiming that this activity doesn't exist but I will be using our own history as a reference. Painting and even drawing/sketching were expensive back in the day (especially painting). Parchment isn't cheap. We don't really see nobles or the Faith acting as patrons for any type of painter. The only thing I can think of is shield-painters. So for the sake of ease, I am making this SO a member of nobility.

Headcanon

Every artist has their goal. To capture beauty, spark creativity, make a mark, or simply suck a little less.

It's a cliché to moan about not being understood, so you try to not moan too much when those around you don't understand. You smile, a knowing smile, often pared with a light nod. The "please-stop-and-please-do-not-make-me-ask-you-to"-nod. You've mastered it.

The thing is... a face is a face. Sure, the features change a bit but the principle remains the same. It's one of the things you never say out loud. How boring drawing can make the world. You study it, sure, but you study to capture not to admire. That can come later. Only if later ever came.

Every person has their own impossible. Some feat, some dream, something out of reach. Yours walked around the halls of the Red Keep.

Sandor Clegane was incredible. His face was incredible.

Plenty of people came to you for a portrait. Not him. One of the guards had asked you to draw him without the scar, curious how the man would look unburnt but it was one of the few portraits you refused. You never told Clegane, of course. The thought of that made you shutter. The guard would have stopped his howls long before Clegane stopped his fist from meeting the poor sod's face.

The solution was simple. You never asked for permission.

It wasn't a perfect likeness. You forgave yourself for that. After all, you had only managed to study him in passing but even the unburnt side of his face was difficult to do justice. He was more rugged. Harsher. Sader. You couldn't draw the burnt side. It was too intimate and you couldn't shake the sense that you wanted to do it justice.

So you continued. It became your secret. The ever-growing bundle of drawings of the Hound. Whenever you passed him in the hall your heartbeat soared, what if he could tell? What if he could sense that you carried him around? Glimpses set on parchment.

He was handsome. Fine, ugly by most people's count, but he was. No one else had a face you could study endlessly and never tire, but he did.

One evening you set out, it wasn't even to find him. Princess Myrcella wanted you to draw one of the birds in the garden for her little brother. The bundle of Hound-drawings just came with. They had grown into a source of comfort and shame. What if some servant found them? What if he was told? You'd die. If not by his hand, your own heart would just die right there on the spot.

Clegane shouldn't even have been there. The garden wasn't for him.

The collision was brutal... well, brutal for you. It didn't as much as budge him. Clegane remained a tower of darkened steel and you became a mess of cloth, parchment, powdered coal and a broken brush.

As you gathered the drawings you felt his gaze burning into your neck. Was it too late to tattle on the guard who wanted him drawn unburnt? Better him than you.

Clegane said something. You didn't hear, not while you talked over him and past him. You couldn't even retell what was said, you just talked and talked while you fled like a scorched rat.

Dorne? Sothoryos? Perhaps you could board a ship sailing toward the Jade Sea? Forsake your name and house and simply disappear. Yes, a sound plan. A fine plan.

Clegane didn't find you right away. Two days passed before he caught you in the hall, heading towards the Princess to deliver her drawing. There was no question, just a command: "Talk." You'd never been so quiet and so he shook you and repeated the command. "I was bored," you said, "and you're difficult to draw, interesting to draw. I haven't shown them to anyone... you could have them if you like or I'll destroy them if that's any better."

Clegane said nothing. He just released you and once again you scurried away like a scorched rat.

By nightfall a knock filled your bedchamber. Before you even opened the door, the stench of wine and ale seeped through the cracks.

Clegane didn't say a word as he stormed inside. You didn't even manage to tell yourself a prayer that it was drink that reddened his face. Rage, hot and black, filled his grey eyes. "That the lot of you do? Pissing yourself with fear before me and snicker behind my back," he spat, "interesting." "You are interesting," you answered meekly.

The chair let out a crack as his body slammed down upon it. The laughter thick in his throat. "Draw then. Go on, if it's any good I might let you live."

So you drew him. Clegane never told you if he thought the drawing any good, but surviving that night was answer enough.

Strangely enough, you hoped he'd come again. You'd take more time, allow yourself to admire him. Just for a moment.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Noticing you (noticing me)

Lan Wangji is not jealous. He's not, really. He knows Wei Ying is in the Cloud Recesses with business. He's here as sect leader, brother's asked for his help dealing with some unusual spiritual activity in the area that's beyond the scope of the Lan.

This is necessary. Wei Ying is busy trying to uncover the mystery with Zewu-Jun, that's all. They're working.

In the hanshi. Alone. For the past 10 hours.

Lan Wangji is jealous.

Of course, he knows neither Lan Xichen, nor Wei Ying would break his trust like that. There's nothing going on in the hanshi besides cultivation work. Lan Wangji has no reason to suspect anything.

But he still drinks vinegar by the liter anyway.

He wants to be the one to spend all this time with Wei Ying. They see one another so rarely now... and he misses his beloved so much it hurts. They've been having such a hard time synchronizing schedules lately that they haven't spent time together in over a month, and they haven't been intimate in just as long...

And now to have Wei Ying so close but so unreachable... torture! All Lan Wangji wants to do is be around Wei Ying, at least. Give him a kiss, maybe. Duck behind some bushes. It's not that much, is it?

But no, Wei Ying's holed up in the hanshi with Lan Xichen while Lan Wangji is stuck doing paperwork. How is any of this fair?

Logically, he knows he'd get nothing done if he was left alone with Wei Ying. It's good Lan Xichen didn't involve him in this work. But he still aches, longing for his dearly loved.

He's so incredibly intelligent, he'll sure fix whatever's going on immediately and they'll retreat to the jingshi for the rest of his visit... right?

---

All Lan Wangji has managed to get from Wei Ying so far is a very brief kiss. And he's grateful, don't get him wrong! He loves feeling Wei Ying's lips against his own, warm, soft and inviting... But Wei Ying's been in the Cloud Recesses for four days now, and all that time's been spent working. Shouldn't he be taking a break by now?

Lan Wangji is trying not to be antsy about this. He really is, he even let the kids leave class early so he won't be unnecessarily harsh on them. But he wants Wei Ying so much he feels like he's going to die. Whatever can be so difficult that he can't figure it out? Maybe he just needs some time away from his work, a distraction even. And Lan Wangji is so good at taking his mind off things-

He sees Wei Ying and Lan Xichen stroll leisurely across the Cloud Recesses, deep in their conversation, and decides he's just going to drown in vinegar at this point. Wei Ying looks so good, in his red and black robes, expensive fabric shining in the sunlight and his hair unbound, a keen expression on his beautiful features...

He should have been sect leader instead. How bad could it be. Brother deserves a vacation, let Lan Wangji deal with Wei Ying and the other sect stuff, just...

Wei Ying notices him. Their eyes lock and the world seems to slow down for a moment - just long enough for Wei Ying to wink at him and add just a bit of a swing to his hips as he walks away.

It takes all Lan Wangji has not to run after them.

---

"Lan Zhan, how am I going to go back home now?" Wei Ying whines, laying down on Lan Zhan's chest after a long due session of lovemaking.

"I could carry you."

"How gentlemanly of you!" A laugh. "I'll be bed-ridden for a week now, whoever will run my sect now?"

"They'll live."

[pop-punklouis]

About Taylor I honestly so agree with you. Since she reappeared for this tour basically she annoys me (the die hard fans too tbh) so much! Like everytime she says something i’m like « it can’t be that bad » and then it’s worst then I expected! Like how difficult is it to just think about things for two minutes? And that’s without talking about the private jet, the prices of concert tickets (when there is literally no reason for them to be so expensive) and the undeserved praise from left and right (i like her music, i like some of her lyrics no she is not the best singer of all time what??). Anyway sorry for the rant haha it’s just frustrating seeing people worshiping the ground she walks on for basically no reason and defending her for anything and everything😅

yeah like. she's become a mammoth presence in our pop culture. and for years, there has been an image cultivated by her and her team that advertises her as a blank canvas. she doesn't have any firm views. she doesn't speak out unless something is also affecting her, personally. she has no strong, public opinions about quite literally. anything. regardless of how significant or miniscule it is. she is whatever people want to project on her to be which is part of the reason she is so wildly successful and is why i believe there is such a frenzy when it comes to her fans. they aren't made up of one group of people. they are made up of wildly different groups of people who see her through their own lens and then defend her/praise her based on that.

that is why it is so difficult for anyone to really critique her, her music, and her career. pop music and pop stars used to be a lot easier to criticize and discuss. now, it's as if you have to be prepared to have an opinion other than the majority or else you'll be attacked by a fanbase or become exhausted with trying to explain yourself over and over to people who see their pop icon as a personal friend and if you say one less than positive thing about them, it is personal attack on the fan as well.

most people don't have the energy to try and have colorful discussions about pop stars anymore due to that. that's why you see such positive reviews and commentary and videos and think-pieces about pop music and pop stars now that overshadow anything else. it is overly-saturating the market instead of there being a healthy balance between praise and critique.

no one is perfect. no matter the platform. and if we continue to strip away the critiques and pointing out flaws when needed, we're going to be left with a very boring and bland pop culture landscape. it's okay to talk about things you don't like. it's okay to be a fan and call your favorite celeb out or critique something they're doing. it's okay to have discussions over these things. it's okay to not be a lover 100% of the time. that's not how life works. and that's not how pop culture should work either. people shouldn't feel anxious for sharing their true thoughts about something or someone.

[knoxs2nd]

as the game blares at us that ange’s reason for existence is hatred, then doesn’t it track that yasu’s reason for existence is love?

she fashioned shannon and beatrice as people specifically to love and be loved by george and battler. she hid her secrets from george because she was scared of being rejected (or, in more charitable terms, used the power of magic and illusions to bring them together in love)

okay, then the question arises: what about kanon, though? he wasn’t exactly created as someone specifically for jessica – in fact, he starts as someone who’s there to support shannon and explore yasu’s own gender identity. it’s only later on after jessica expresses interest that his story shifts to more about the struggle on whether he can pursue a love with jessica or not, even though he’s furniture.

so then it goes back to amakusa’s comment: what was ange’s original desire? to find the truth. but that truth is impossible, because it'd likely destroy her true hope, the miracle of her family returning, and because finding the truth is logistically impossible. so ange forgets it and lives only for hatred.

so i think kanon shows us that while yasu’s reason for existence is love, her original desire was: that was to feel that it was okay to live. that their existence was okay.

to beatrice, the one element of the world is love. shannon asks why she was even born if she's not allowed to love. she wishes she didn’t exist.

so: yasu conflates the two desires. being allowed to exist = being loved

the moment kanon could be someone who can be loved, who's allowed to exist, yasu can’t let him go. she can’t deny herself a way of feeling she was allowed to live, even as she struggles with the deceit and cold reality of being furniture in addition to living a double life.

yasu wanted to feel like it was okay to live, but just as ange realized finding the truth was impossible, yasu also realized that this goal of "feeling okay with her own existence" was actually impossible for her after solving the epitaph.

just as ange can't travel back in time to see the truth with her own eyes, yasu can't travel back in time to stop herself from solving the epitaph and discovering the truth that proved to her she shouldn't exist.

all she's done is bring pain to others: before she was even born, while she lives now, and in the future when she's exposed to the people she loves. she simply can’t conceive of the possibility of accepting her own existence.

so then her reason for living becomes her pursuit for love. if she can't accept herself, at least someone else can accept her...if she doesn't think she's allowed to exist herself, then maybe someone else can acknowledge her, in her place.

and this goes into the personas. it's about SHANNON or KANON or BEATRICE being able to be loved. not yasu, never yasu. someone else, in yasu's place, to be loved by battler, or george, or jessica, to be allowed to exist at the expense of the others (of yasu's true self...)

and we already know that this pursuit of love will be difficult – a “trial” if you will, where she has to trample over others for her own love. where she has to suffer, lie, deceive, and ultimately, murder for love.

so then, what comes at the end of that journey? ange says that after she discovers the truth, she can die.

so then, after yasu feels she’s “loved” and feels allowed to live, she can die.

In ep4, ange acknowledges that she had spent her time trying to find a peaceful way to die. to feel satisfied, a complete Human, before she died

now, think of this from tohya’s pov. after battler told beatrice that she could live on into the future, that he’ll be with her, that he’ll carry her sins with her – after being as supportive as possible! – that, to yasu, actually signaled that it was time to die.

now that someone else was telling her it was okay for her to live, she could go peacefully. think of how much guilt this has caused tohya, that he feels responsible for yasu’s suicide.

why couldn’t she just acknowledge herself? why are humans so stupid? why couldn’t she feel like she was allowed to live on her own merits? why? why couldn't he stop her? why did he kill her?

so then, what can we say to tohya?

thank you. battler. thank you for letting yasu's dream come true, even for a short time. thank you for allowing her to feel like she was loved and allowed to exist, even for just a short while, and for showing her that the sea can be blue for her, too...

[usedpidemo]

Do you think K-pop concert ticket prices are too expensive now? What do you think should be the threshold, and what can be done to give all fans, whether casual or diehard, a great experience?

I could go on an entire rant/tangent on what I think concerts as a whole should be like, but it would be the length of a regular fic, so I'll spare you every issue and thought I have about them. I've only been to one concert in my whole life, so I don't have the experience or depth that other concertgoers have, but let's just say the streaming and COVID economy fucked up everything.

Prices: I believe the terrible royalties from streaming, as well as the increased demand for live shows in general has caused these ticket prices to skyrocket. Like you can't just buy a ticket for a decent seat for less than $70 now, that shit only gives you nosebleed seats. Not to mention the deliberate collusion of scalpers by ticketing sites. Those resale tickets and third parties directly cooperate with Ticketmaster so they can punch a bit more money from consumers. And don't even get me started with Dynamic Pricing and those terrible service fees. I'm fortunate enough to live in a country where such things don't exist, but with HYBE openly expressing their intention to enable dynamic pricing and finding alternatives in places where it's not available, you can bet they'll find a way to punch up the prices too.

I understand why they charge this much. Fans will go out to see their favorite artist, regardless of how much they complain about it. FOMO. You don't know if they'll come back to your country or city, or when. Not to mention, the typical K-pop concert is a much grander production than, say, your average pop star. You got backup dancers, large stages, numerous costume changes, sometimes a live band, and of course, multiple members with dozens of staff managing a group. Concerts are the biggest revenue/income drive now for a majority of artists because of how music is distributed today, so they have to break even. Doing world tours are costly; consider the VISA and other costs on a country-to-country basis. No wonder they'd rather tour the US and Japan only to save a few thousand dollars.

It's difficult to gauge the threshold because popularity and demand is fickle, especially in K-pop. However, if there has to be a limit, I personally would stop at around $1000-sub range. There's not a damn singer or artist on planet earth, dead or alive, that's worth over a $1000 ticket. Even MJ. The economy isn't looking good, inflation keeps jumping year by year, and concerts have become basically rich people havens too.

Personally, I do think it'll eventually die out. There's a touring oversaturation right now that it dries people out and we have to pick and choose who we want to attend.

There's a few things I really want to see happen in the future, ideally:

• Rookies shouldn't be pricier than their seniors. I don't care if its NewJeans, IVE, or Le sserafim, they really shouldn't be more expensive than say, a 3-4 year old group. It's ridiculous how NMIXX and IVE were more expensive than The Boyz or ATEEZ.

• Announcing ticket sale literally right after the tour announcement. This is something I absolutely hate. Why are you selling tickets for a show six-eight months away like two weeks after announcing it? Fucking insane! It gives us little to no prep time to gather up resources and plan accordingly. Also, what if something happens that causes a concert to be canceled or delayed? It'll be much harder for us to get refunds back, which is exactly why they pull this shit off. Normalize selling tickets at most two months-a month before the show.

• Make the ticket prices worth it. This is my biggest gripe with concerts, more than the prices: that you're basically paying for the seats and nothing else. I'm not gonna lie, I likely wouldn't have gone out to my one and only concert if I wasn't guaranteed anything else besides a nice seat. Pre-pandemic, the price of the ticket I bought would have given me a group/solo pic with the group and some other cool perks like maybe signed merch. Now? Most concerts give you the show and nothing more. You have to justify paying that hefty tag beyond just a close view of your favorite artist. I remember when pop stars like Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande, and The Weeknd had photo-ops before the show for those VIP tivkets. COVID ruined all of that. It's such a damn shame, because at best, you're getting soundcheck, which I'm not fond of, in my opinion. It forces people to bait for interactions and not enjoy themselves during the show cuz they aren't guaranteed artist engagement (though this won't really change anything if we're being real lol). I personally would be a lot more comfortable and have a greater time if I knew I could greet them before or after the show instead of trying too hard to get their attention.

[yellowfingcr]

Share with me about what Heysel's 'principles of killing' beyond the work load aspect of it concerning her profession in her ER verse.

“It is considered impolite to answer a question with another question, but I am impolite and coarse that way, and so I must start with exactly that. What do you think those principles are? Which finds its synonym in: what do you believe murder does for me, really? Am I a natural-born sadist? Unhinged, maladjusted, guilty from the beginning, a poison seed grown blade-branched and hollow-hearted? Am I an animal? Or does it make me slick between the thighs? Is it a dark temptation, perhaps, to resist- an impulse to subsume, a test of my humanity that I am proposed daily? Am I just blessed with a child’s lack of conscience? Or do I deem life so cheap that to take one is a kind of mild vice to indulge on occasion, like smoke, expensive dishes?”

“Regardless of whichever your answer is, which needn’t feature among those I’ve listed, please, feel free to tell me. I’m ever curious. But I can say as much, for what I know of myself: the most honest most naked boned principle is that I do what I do because I’m very good at doing what I do, and I truly do not see myself doing much else. Had I been of artistic disposition I would have been a painter and had I been a finer cook I would have been a chef. But I’m not. I could learn, I suppose, to do a different duty. The thing is- I like my job! I always did! How to undo another is a riddle I so delight in solving. And the solution to it is among the truest things to exist. And if any living being armed with enough conviction can kill another it takes something more to assassinate. Mind me, I’m not one of those that selected her contracts based on the amount of challenge they posed, though sure, sure, I am mere flesh and I would find myself thrilled at succeeding at a difficult task. So. No. I could not sieve my choice through the excitement promised, or the money granted. The fame bestowed, sometimes. I had to consider the fact that me, Goldfinch, had to be known, and known in positive if frightened notes. Though it pains me to admit it there was also the filter of my own morals. Personally, though, I most enjoyed being vehicle of vengeance for the obscenely wealthy who had never before been so proximate to the threat of the end. It was all so absurd. A little pathetic. Certainly risible. Let’s call it funny, frankly. I am simple. I just enjoy bringing surprises. Those sorts do look at you as you sink the knife inside their throat with still sheer disbelief- this cannot happen to them. It’s not real. They’re not about to die. Poor bastards die. They’re noble-blooded. And yet."

"You know; when I was in my adolescent years and before any formal training I struck a very large man with a bottle. I had my reasons. Among those the fact that he was behaving in a certain manner because he thought nobody would have stopped him. And as it burst like a firework into a thousand green shards against his temple, well, I almost laughed. He didn’t expect it. He didn’t expect me to try to stab him with what remained of the bottle in my hand either.”

“But I digress. I’ve been wearing the black leathers for decades and loved every day of it. The world is now a wheezing ruin for sure fairly deprived of delectable contracts to offer me but oh, it was never quite about money, was it? If I’m called to be exquisitely violent be it through spell or knife I am happy to oblige. I put heart in this. I do this with passion. Shouldn't we all do what we love?”

[onychespherein]

shattering glass crack crack crack

Albedo stared at the shattered glass and the small pool of liquid of unidentifiable color. Something inside his stomach twisted.

He messed up. His master told him to bring her the vial of that thing ─ that he couldn't remember for his life what was supposed to do ─ that she had been working on for the last months, that she had only one vial of, that was nearly entirely made of extremely rare and expensive ingredients, and he messed it up.

It wasn't even a hard thing to do. He was just supposed to bring it to her, it was easy, laughably so. Take a vial, hold it, give it to her. He did more difficult things, like, like learning the Art of Khemia, reviving branches and creating butterflies and more, investigating the ley lines and─ and there was that thesis, too, and all the new languages, and, and─

And he still messed it up.

There was something twisting inside his stomach; a lump at the back of his throat making it hard to swallow and harder to breathe. The lack of oxygen could cause dizziness but he didn't even need to breathe, so why did he begin to feel lightheaded? Was he sick? He felt like he might throw up, and his hands were shaking violently like tree branches in the middle of a hurricane. He wasn't supposed to be able to get sick. Did he somehow mess that up like the vial, too?

The vial. Oh gods above, the vial.

He was going to die. His master was going to see just how much of an useless and bumbling idiot he was, and then she'd create another one that would be smarter and useful and would never fail something as simple as bringing a vial to her. Albedo was a failure.

He was a failure, a stupid useless thing that couldn't manage to hold a fu─ a freaking vial. He wasn't supposed to swear. He almost messed that up too, and he was supposed to be his master's greatest achievement? A joke, that's what he is. And it's completely his own fault, too. If only he could act like he was supposed to, do what he was supposed to, be exactly what he was supposed to be.

But he couldn't do even that, no! Wasn't that pathetic? Wasn't he pathetic?

A weird constant ringing overcame his senses and Albedo felt as if he was choking on air. He shouldn't be able to choke, either. It was so loud. Too loud. Much, much too loud he felt like his head was splitting open, where did the sound come from anyway?

"Albedo? What on earth are you doing?"

He really can't do anything right, can he?

[nokingsonlyfooles]

I'm suspicious of this sudden progression from "Just keep doing what you're doing! 😀" to "money now or permanent eye damage 😕". And, I'm not happy with it. I'm not happy with being in a hostage situation with my eyesight on the line.

I'm looking up this eye condition and trying to make sure that these charges are legit. Because the deal is, there aren't a lot of binocular vision specialists and it would be difficult to get a second opinion from someone who actually understands what's going on with my eyes in a timely manner. And I'd have to pay out of pocket for it, probably. It's probably cheaper and easier to just accept this, especially now - we have enough savings and credit, we got lucky, I can just do this.

But it seems like I shouldn't HAVE to. It seems like the doctor should've seen this back in December and told me to do something cheaper and easier about it. I found a suggested progression of treatment for this, and it starts with warm compresses and eye massage.

That's something I found on my own, post-surgery. She didn't tell me to do that. I did it for a month on my own, and then I stopped, because what I was hearing from the doctor was that everything was blurry and I was struggling because my vision had changed significantly and I needed time to adjust. More exercises, and come back after you've done those for three months. I put my mental health spoons into doing that.

And now I'm hearing, "Your glands are producing no oil and they will begin to die if we don't apply this expensive eye massage machine within the next three months, nothing other than that will treat this, and since this is preventing you from doing your eye exercises, we might as well get it done fast, so you can recover and continue getting your vision back to where it was before I told you surgery was the best option for preserving your progress." No antibiotics, no hot packs and massage, we've apparently zoomed past all that while I was trying to do eye exercises with increasingly blurry vision and no follow ups.

She's not even positive this is why everything is blurry, but it needs treatment so we can rule it out if it's not.

I'm getting to the point where I'm not sure I believe her when she says it's this bad, but I probably won't find another specialist in time to check this before I have permanent damage if it IS this bad. So, she'll get the money, I guess. I'll get the treatment and do the follow up afterwards, but then I gotta find another doctor I trust. If there is one within driving distance who's taking new patients.

Christ, healthcare is a shitshow all over. When it's complicated enough, and I am, coverage for the basics makes no difference at all. Any and all money I've saved on other stuff is going into my stupid eyes. Not to mention groceries and rent. I don't WANT my existence to be dependent on hoarding money and making sure it doesn't run out, but it is.

[ranohikken]

Second playtest yielded unfortunate but important results. Good news, issues from last playtest didn't really come up. Bad news, new issues that are probably worse.

Long ramble below

Things of note before the problems: soldier was an extremely popular purchase and for a good reason. A cheap monster summon that provides 1 atk / 2 guard but more importantly once summoned it doesn't take up space in the deck until killed. Soldier might be made more expensive.

The nerfs to monster damage across the board was probably fine on its own, but the addition of boss and neutral monsters attacking immediately instead of at the end of a player's turn meant that players would spend their turns building up their army of monsters just for them to be killed one by one, which resulted in basically no progress being made even after spending turns and resources trying to accomplish what an army is supposed to do.

Also boss monsters were still too difficult to kill, especially since they guaranteed destroying at least half of an army as soon as the space is stepped on. On reveal effects as a concept are fine I think but the effects shouldn't be devastating; a minor inconvenience at most. Killing a boss is supposed to be an integral part of the game and it was made far too difficult. By making them easier to kill, the pvp part of the game becomes accessed much more easily. Pvp barely happened this playtest because so much time was spent pointlessly rebuilding armies to fight a boss that they couldn't kill. I also think the multiple guard thing is fine but for that to be viable, the high guard monsters should do proportionately less damage since they will likely attack multiple times.

All in all, combat was unfun and too punishing. No strategy involved, just throwing yourself at a wall until something happens.

Current solution in mind: revert to monsters attacking second so that armies aren't constantly needing to be rebuilt. Also keep neutral monster guards below 5. They should all be defeatable without too much setup. Making them strong only created unnecessary and unfun play time.

Another problem was that pure attack cards had very low value at basically all stages of the game. In combat, they usually didn't help enough. Outside of combat, no one wants them in their hand because they don't do anything. In clank and hero realms, damage always has a use if you draw it. In clank you always have the option of beating up the goblin for gold and in hero realms you always have the ability to attack the other player (exception being they have too much guard but that's rare because damage is abundant).

Current solution in mind: increase damage of all one-use damage cards to be worth buying and/or add secondary effects to most of them (e.g. draw a card or +1 movement).

Speaking of things that take up space in the deck and hand, Trap Cards need a rework. Most of the time their use is too specific to justify being placed in a deck. Not only that, their effects aren't very strong either. Solution in mind would be to either significantly increase their power or have them provide multiple things so that they have a general use (weaker than other cards that specifically provide that thing) as well as a specific trap function.

Shield as an example has the current effect of increasing one monster's guard by 3. That's it. Considering the way combat works, all this does is protect one monster and leave another to die. This could be improved by increasing the guard of all monsters instead, and possibly even provide atk points so that it can be used as a damage card in case someone doesn't want or need the extra guard.

Another issue was that as the game went on, dead draws became increasingly frustrating. The longer the game went on, the more cards you end up with and the less likely you draw somethin you need in the situation. This can be fixed or at least mitigated in a couple of ways.

First option, add a consistent but expensive way to trash cards so that later in the game you can get rid of starter cards with low value. This is the less preferred option because I'd rather games not go on for so long that your deck is clogged in the first place.

Second option, add a way to replace a card in the shop buy paying a small amount of gold that increases if you do it multiple times. This is the preferred option because it addresses two problems. One, instead of buying a card you don't want for the sake of not wasting gold or to get another card out, you can now possibly open up an option you do want. Being able to buy cards you want means less dead draws. Two, it gives the player something to spend 1 gold on if they only had 1 left instead of it being wasted.

in regards to trashing starter cards, I'm not opposed to the concept and actually added a way to trash a pickaxe or fighter but there were two problems. One, it was an encounter so only once in the game. Barely does anything for deck consistency. Two, it was meant to replace a fighter with a soldier but soldier ran out so early. I still want this encounter's effect in the game so I will change it from being an encounter to a regular shop card with two or three copies.

As far as what went right, there was a couple of things. Locked/Legendary cards were fun to see in use. What I would change here is actually remove some of the ones with boring effects like sniper that just deals piercing damage. Too many legendary cards would make them less legendary and some are definitely weaker than others while they're meant to all feel strong.

That's it for now. Will probably be some time before I implement the changes because I want to work on my animation but I haven't been discouraged by these results.

[tiger-moran]

Where did I get to with these, uh...

A Problem of Numbers

What I liked about it: Moriarty appearing to be a potential victim and then turning it round and revealing he's the one in control. Him actually planning and carrying out some sort of criminal scheme. Him pointing out the rather screwed up nature of society where essentially some have huge amounts of wealth which they haven't earned while others who should have earned more get very little or just die. That his plan succeeds and does so without killing anyone.

What I didn't like about it: too much focus on the OCs. Moran seems to have been totally forgotten about. The scheme did seem rather silly and not something that would have actually succeeded or even supposing it did surely the victims would have been able to pursue them afterwards to get their money back or get revenge on them at least, nor do I see how those wealthy people were meant to have SO MUCH wealth on them (much of it in cash) yet they could fit all of it in a satchel. And Moriarty saving the supposedly sunken ship and slapping his own name onto it is really stupid sorry (way to make it glaringly obvious to everyone what really happened to the ship).

Was Moran in it: no, he didn't even get mentioned

Would I read it again: maybe but I can't say I liked more than little bits of it

-

The Fulham Strangler

What I liked about it: Moriarty having an 'urchin' who goes with Holmes's Irregulars and feeds information back to Moriarty which I think too is something that happens. Moriarty disguising himself and manipulating and getting the better of Holmes

What I didn't like about it: Moriarty getting the better of Holmes shouldn't come at the expense of making Holmes look stupid. Sure Holmes might be taken in by Moriarty but I cannot buy him reacting the way he does in this when he finds out the truth and then still having to have Moriarty explain something pretty obvious. Also while it's nice to have the Greuze referenced that isn't the right painting. In the canon Holmes never said that Moriarty owned La Jeune Fille a l’Agneau and that isn't the picture that MacDonald refers to as being in Moriarty's study but that's named as Moriarty's painting here.

Was Moran in it: no, he wasn't even mentioned

Would I read it again: not unless I was really desperate

-

The Adventure of the Lost Theorem

What I liked about it: Moriarty has a sword-stick (amongst other weapons). The implication that Moriarty is capable of killing if he has to. Him being very self-controlled but not totally emotionless. The link between mathematics and crime. Him seeing Faust and a young Irene Adler being in the performance and her voice catching his attention. Him disguising himself.

What I didn't like about it: he seems rather too passionless, about anything other than mathematics (and mathematics and its relation to crime) and too... self-contained. I mean I agree that he is a largely very independent person and he is young here but I think this overplays that idea of him being very independent to the point where it doesn't seem like there's any possibility of any meaningful relationship with anyone else (like Moran) in the future.

Was Moran in it: no, it seems to be set before Moriarty meets Moran, but then it is very difficult to see this take on him ever being close to Moran even once he has met him so...

Would I read it again: I didn't love this take on him but, yes

[magnusrosen-blog]

Irony and reality can sometimes be close to each other.

The sleeping people!

We sleep so heavily in an illusion that everything is done for our own good!

In the history of man we find a conclusion.

Even though people are injured and die in war, shot on our streets and in our homes in front of our noses, even though we have poor pensioners, Swedish citizens who are homeless, drug sales outside middle school in some schools in our country!!!

😴 So we sleep so well and soundly and I shouldn't question it, what if someone says against me, oh yeah yeah I don't want to be part of that, then it's better to be quiet and sleep on, then people get hurt while I closes my eyes.

Even fixed service agencies like banks are starting to question us all as if we were criminals. Questions like if we are active politically or have feelings in the military, why we want to deposit our cash or withdraw cash, act like we support terrorists or other criminal activities. Is integrity and respect for people completely gone?

Is it ok that we are all treated as potential criminals?

😴 But we just sleep on in a dream that everything is so good.

Our news is no longer objective, nor is the new healthcare that recommends preparations that have not been tested according to all the rules of the art, but they spread chemical mixtures into people's bodies, what is actually in these substances? 😴 But no one dares to ask, we just dare to say "yes" and continue to sleep.

5 G, which would make the whole world wake up to a thunderous quality and speed, turns out to be more intended for something else as everything has become worse when it comes to telephony and data speed.

Where I live slightly outside of Gothenburg, it has definitely gotten worse, so I have turned off my 5G.

The radiation inside the city is on "warning" for humans, I have seen this myself on a radiation meter.

😴 But no one seems to care or question this either.

Did you know that there are several different techniques that cause the sunlight to be blocked from our globe.

Yes, it is certainly scary that some people are experimenting with our entire mother earth.

Tinkering with the weather has been done since the Vietnam War.

😴 But what does it do when you can close your eyes and sleep on?

Wars are encouraged instead of effective peace processes, at the same time they talk about climate change which entails high environmental taxes, tax money that is not even earmarked?????

War is a terrible environmentally friendly act, but it doesn't matter because you fight for the good of everyone????? Or do you do this for the good of all. 😴 When did a war bring anything but illusions and death to the little man???

The vegetables are now genetically engineered to such a mild degree that the vitamins are starting to become difficult to detect in the increasingly brilliant, colorful vegetables that many times next only taste like water, 😴 but that can't wake us up either!

Some pieces of meat start to get an aftertaste from the brush 😴 but what does that do, or beef fillets filled with water to charge a higher kg price, 😴 but oh yes it's nothing to worry about when you can sleep on.

Yes, now it is even difficult in some professions to get full time since the 80% salary came into effect.

More expensive prices with less wages.

😴 Yes, that's good, then we won't be able to afford to live.

Think how good life is anyway, well until the day you open your eyes 👀 and ask yourself, how could it be like this.

Yes, that day started to get its last "well before date"

Then the road back is very long.

Yes there are many more alarm clocks ⏰, 😴 but it doesn't seem to help.

Shouldn't we at least question and demand an objective picture with more than one perspective?

Questioning gives answers but silence does not.

The wise ask and the foolish dare not question. But no questions are wrong and clear, transparent answers must always be given so that no major misunderstandings occur against the people.

The worst thing is if society splits up into small different groups that are against each other, because then we easily fall into the plates that the perfection of power has put out and become easy to sink our teeth into.

😴 But what does that do when you can close your eyes and sleep on.

Perhaps it is simply too much to ask to open one's beautiful eyes and instead just sleep further into an illusion and future that is currently presented when this text is read?!

But in any case, in the sign of love, you can wish everyone 😴 sleeping a good sleep.

Sleep tight!!! ❤️🙏

Magnus.

Love peace understanding

Remember: Questions bring knowledge

Free speech makes for a free world

Photo  Gabriel Henningson

www.magnusrosen.com

www.magnusrosenband.com

www.culturemeetsindustry.com

#book #magnusrosenband #outsidetherockbox #sound pollution #moderearth #spiritual #barvcafebar#brännö

#avelibooks #noise pollution

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[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

First meet

@gwyndal thank you for your adorable prompt! I loved writing this!

The prompt: Wangxian meeting LXC's and his spouse's firstborn

Wei Wuxian walks anxiously through the jingshi, drawing imaginary circles all over the place with his steps. His hands are folded behind his back, but his fingers still wring against each other, betraying his nerves.

Lan Wangji would try to comfort him if he wasn't restless himself. He's been sifting through the same book for the past two or three hours, unable to focus.

"Why's it taking so long?!" Wei Wuxian bursts, tired of the silence and his own thoughts spiralling. "I wonder, did something happen? I know Ming Xiang's pregnancy has been difficult, but... it's been over 10 hours, why haven't we received any news?"

"I've asked the doctor to let me know when something happens, good or bad. No news should be good news."

"Except it's not! Do you know how many things can go wrong in childbirth?! It's terrible, she could even die!"

"Wei Ying, I don't think that is the case. We would have been told."

Wei Wuxian sighs, frustrated. "I just want to know or nephew or niece is okay... This is nerve-wracking!"

"It is, but we shouldn't be so-"

There's a knock at the jingshi's door and Lan Wangji springs to his feet, nearly knocking himself over as he runs to open up. A disciple that can only be described as happily distraught manages a half bow and hurriedly says, "Come quickly, lady Ming has given birth to twin boys!"

Lan Wangji nearly knocks the disciple over as he runs out the door, and it happens again when Wei Wuxian follows. They all but fly their way towards the lanshi, and only when do they arrive at the door reality hits them.

They're uncles now! They're going to meet their niece or nephew now!

But they can't just barge in - this is an intimate moment, perhaps Lan Xichen and his wife want to spend it together without outside interference. Perhaps they should wait to be called in or -

The door opens to reveal Lan Xichen beaming, a smile so bright it nearly lights up the night. "Come on in, A-Xiang was just about to send me after you."

Suddenly, both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian feel incredibly small as they walk in. The lanshi looks the same as always, yet it feels different - it feels different with Ming Xiang's soft voice humming a lullaby as she lays in the bed, two bundles of embroidered blankets in her arms.

There are bags under her eyes and her updo is more mess than hair - but she looks so softly, so lovingly to the little ones she's holding that she appears otherworldly, a goddess among mortals, the primordial image of Mother.

Wei Wuxian's eyes tear up, but it is Lan Wangji that cries first, two rivulets of tears falling symmetrically down his face at the image. A step behind them, Lan Xichen himself struggles to hide his tears.

Ming Xiang smiles, tired, proud, relieved, motherly. "Looks like you'll both get your very own nephew."

Wei Wuxian laughs, wetly, as he approaches the bed and tentatively sits on the edge. He sees his own mother holding him, he sees Jiang Yanli holding Jin Ling, he sees A-Yuan's mother holding him - he sees all mothers there, in the image of Ming Xiang, and there is a knot in his throat that refuses to dissipate.

He looks at the two babes, snuggled in their expensive furs and silks, so small and vulnerable, so very precious, so long waited on.

Lan Wangji joins his husband's side and Lan Xichen stands at the foot of the bed, looking on at his family, now whole. He hasn't even realized, until today, he has been missing something.

Two little somethings.

"Would you like to hold them?" Ming Xiang asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji nod all too eagerly, and Lan Xichen takes the cue to help his wife hand over the two little boys.

She makes a relieved sound. "They're so heavy... Those pregnancy cravings fed them well!"

Lan Xichen watches as the two hold his sons like they are gold incarnate, their touches delicate and fearful. He shares a look with his wife, a discreet smile between them, until-

"He's moving!" Lan Wangji exclaims, overwhelmed and uncharacteristic, eyes wide as the baby in his arms opens his eyes and lifts a tiny hand towards him.

"Of course, he's moving." Wei Wuxian replies, gently rocking the other one. "Babies tend to do that."

Lan Wangji smiles, warm, his fingers gently adjusting the blankets around the little boy. "Mn."

The baby seems to be analyzing Lan Wangji, blue eyes scanning over his face before his little nose scrunches as if in disapproval, and he closes his eyes to sleep again. Wei Wuxian's heart leaps at the adorable sight and he knows he wants this for himself too, for both of them.

He turns to look at the baby he's holding himself, sleeping soundly, and can't help running a finger over his plump cheeks. He knows he'd die - again, over and over - if his little nephews asked, he'd turn the world upside down and sideways for them. He'll be the uncle he never got to be for Jin Ling, he'll be the uncle he wished he had himself when he was younger.

And so, on that cold winter day, Lan Yichen and Lan Haoyu were born, the future Twin Jades, the pride and joy of their parents and uncles, the hope for a future as bright as their father's sword and as beautiful as their mother's smile.

(And as spoiled as Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch could get away with.)

[inkskinned]

accidents happen. accidents particularly happen around children.

we make scissors designed for children because we know they can hurt themselves on it. we cut their food up smaller so they are less likely to choke. we "babyproof" our houses, make sure our medications are all closed and locked, close all the outlets.

we are told to just carry a gun.

at some point a kid is going to get hurt. everyone with or around kids knows this. often adults (who shouldn't work with kids) are a little-too-okay-with-this. they sneer that in their time, kids just got hurt. which is great for them, but i don't feel it's particularly necessary to willfully allow children to break bones just to "build character". the kids do just fine when i do my job right. i make sure, to the best of my ability, that they don't break the bone. it turns out you can still learn life lessons without trauma. yes, at some point they'll get hurt. that's the nature of it. but i like to try to keep it to a minimum of bloodshed.

about five years ago, in the middle of my summer training, the cop that came in to prepare us for mass shootings actually happened to be the same cop that used to be my DARE officer. what a small world! his hair had gone grey.

before working with children, i had no idea how many things a child can hurt themselves on. i had never thought about the possibility that a child could climb a bookshelf, only for that bookshelf to topple over. everything has to be screwed down. nothing can have particularly sharp corners - what if a child falls backwards onto it? - or be particularly breakable. no plastic bags or choking hazards. watch out for allergens, do your best to clean your super-gross classroom with all-natural (and expensive) fragrance-free products. there's a million other considerations, most of which are difficult on a public school budget. i hate the calculation - either the kids get a new playground 5 years from now OR they get new books now and just risk the tetanus.

the gun is not included in the paycheck.

we do our best, you know? but like, there's the rest of the actual job to do. we're neither trained, paid, or aided in our one-person quest to somehow get jason to stop giving himself splinters. and besides, we have the 98 other things to consider for our 30 other students. one of which is, you know, teaching them.

the children aren't prisoners. we need to walk this incredibly fine line of "chaotic exploration" and "reckless endangerment." to be frank - they're gonna do stupid shit and get hurt while they do the stupid shit. it's my job to at least try to predict the stupid shit, and minimize the risk. and before you judge the kids - i'm going to remind you that adults die every year from shaking vending machines. people just do stupid shit.

did you know that the leading cause of childhood deaths in america is to guns? we're the only country in the world with that statistic. it used to be motor vehicles, which is why there are so many laws about seatbelts, air bags, babyseats, and other protections against accidents. 1 in 5 childhood deaths will be a result of guns. of these deaths, 65% are the result of an intentional attack.

my brother often takes me to archery. i fucking suck at archery, because i have no aim, bad eyesight, and no grip strength. it's fun, though! as a teacher, archery at my school is super banned, because kids could get hurt. no throwing rocks or sticks. no impromptu self-made bows or arrows, oh my god, why do we keep having to have this conversation.

i remember this one conversation with a parent. he was chatting with me during pick-up and mentioned that kinder eggs being banned is so stupid, because, like, if a kid is gonna choke - they kind of "deserved it" for being so stupid. without thinking, my response was, "we don't typically practice darwinism at school, but you can encourage that at home if you wish!" which did result in me getting written up - for "talking back", i guess.

but his idea isn't unusual, is the thing. there's this sense that there's somehow almost an "expendable" child trauma rate. that it weeds out the weak or whatever, which is categorically cruel & dehumanizing. children should be able to mess up and have fun and - again - do stupid shit. they might get hurt, yes. but the job of the adult is to just go help the kid.

i had to quit teaching. i was really, really good at my job - 15 years of practice. but i would wake up at night, coating in sweat. trying to figure out how to bullet-proof my public school classroom with a public school budget.

bad things happen. in every other category: we try to prevent them.

[skullchicken]

Blackout - Part 4

Info I Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

Hanne

Hanne had often thought that it would be nice to not have a body. Not to be dead. Just to not have anything that could be seen. When Hanne had been bullied, the wish had been simpler: to be invisible. The bullying was no longer a problem, but the desire remained. No matter when or where, the body was a prison. Even while online dating, where you didn't have to see each other, people wanted to know who he was right away. What do you do? Where are you from? M/F? Male or female. Problem number one.

The few non-trogs* he'd told about his past had been amazed: what, you were bullied? Yes, he grew up in a troll neighborhood. The concept wasn't that difficult. For a long time he had pondered why people had thrown forks on his back like arrows at a dart board during lunch break. What was he doing wrong? What was wrong with him? Did they smell something on him that he couldn't?

Maybe they had noticed, much earlier than him, that he didn't feel like a man. At least not always. But then a classmate in eighth grade came out as transgender. So that couldn't have been it. It had been a rough time. One day he had overheard him getting comforted by his friends two tables away. The parents did not understand him: ‘she had been such a pretty girl’. They could have been friends, Hanne and him. They had a lot in common, from what he had involuntarily overheard. That had just rubbed salt into the wounds.

He finally decided that the reason they shut him out, kicked him, and tormented him was a very simple one: because they could. Because he was smaller and weaker. And because putting others down was an easy way to feel powerful, to feel better. He also understood: the adults wouldn't do anything. It was just 'how trolls played'. Trolls were 'tough – and if you weren't, you should learn,' they'd said. The world wouldn't 'touch you with kid gloves either'. But scratches and bruises were not what hurt the most. And what killed you didn't necessarily make you stronger, but it often broke you. His father however was a good man. He did his best to comfort him. But he didn't understand that he couldn't make himself small enough that they would stop.

What followed was an arms race taking place over the course of several years. He started weight training; they picked up judo. He got into muay thai; they got themselves baseball bats. He got pistols; they got rifles. At that point, play-time was over. Before that, someone died accidentally. Now, someone accidentally didn't die. Cease-fire. But it never ceased in his mind. He couldn't stop. Prepping had become a habit. Armored clothing, more weights, then composite bones, muscle toning. Expensive as sin. All of that so he could finally, finally feel safe. But that never happened. And then, months after the last attack, his father sat at the kitchen table at two o'clock in the morning with glassy eyes and said:

"Son, that is no way to live.”

And he was right. He had to get out of there. He needed a bigger pond with smaller fish.

For the first time, Hanne could be herself. Admittedly only unobserved, in her first own apartment. But finally there was air to breathe. Her father hadn't known about it. She had lacked the words to make him understand. And she was ashamed. Hanne, a caricature of manliness. And she saw herself as a part-time woman.

It was a good, quiet life. But he was often alone. Unfortunately, he already knew most of the troll women his age in the plex**. And those he didn't know, those he was interested in, were interested in him for the wrong reasons. How wouldn't they be? He wasn't being completely honest. In his new job as a bouncer and girl Friday (hah) he certainly saw enough people being gender-queer on the open dance floor. But that was for small, pretty squishies. Then he did manage to get a girlfriend after all. He had really tried to please her. Until she passed out while choking. She had dismissed it with a laugh, that he shouldn't act like that – that's exactly how she wanted it. But after that he couldn't get it up anymore.

And then one night she found herself carrying a young human woman from the back entrance of the “Spiral” against her will.

"Wheee, I'm a princess!", she gurgled in her arms.

Half a minute ago she'd snatched her (half-undressed) out of the toilet cubicle. According to Benni, a visitor had seen a suspicious couple. A razorboy and a girl who was 'too drunk for this time of day'. And since Benni couldn't leave his spot, Hanne had to pick up the slack.

In the pale moonlight she set her down on the asphalt to give her a proper look over. Pinkish, glassy eyes. She didn't smell of alcohol, though. Hanne had soon gotten tired of wondering what exactly the blacked out man in the corner was tripping on this week (and if he would try to tear off her arm if she tried to wake him up). So she'd made it a habit to have some 5-minute tests with her. Hanne took her hand to give her a quick prick.

"Ouch!" She pulled her fingers out her loose grip – and toppled down into the bushes to the left. Giggling. With both hands, Hanne lifted her back up by the coat.

“Listen, shorty. You have something in your system. And from how that softhead back there was acting, he's not going to leave you alone today. You don't have to go home, but you shouldn't stay here."

"Oh, okay."

"Can you make it home?"

"Yep," she assured her... while trying and failing to pluck twigs out of her hair.

At the bus stop, Hanne sent a hopeful glance towards the quick test. Some long, familiar-sounding name that had appeared in the field. 'P1nk', revealed the matrix search. Aw, shit. Roofie two point zero. No alcohol needed for the memory gap anymore, just a good dose of sleep. And before that, the victim stayed awake, gullible and in a good mood. And disoriented. The designer drug for all those wanting to imagine that they 'wanted it, actually'. Sighing, she sent Benni a message. This was going to take some time.

"Why are you here?"

The girl eyed her with uncertainty as she squeezed into the back row of the bus.

"I'll take you home."

"Oh?" She smiled widely. "Okey-dokey."

"You live here?"

The girl was leaning her head against the entrance's glass double-doors and smiled tipsily.

"Hm-hm."

"Alright then. Remember to drink enough water. Good-b-” She raised her hand to wave – and was interrupted.

"Mh, I think the elevator is broken."

"The elevator," Hanne exhaled.

The other one nodded mechanically and then fluttered her eyelashes.

"And I live aaaall the way up on the fourteenth floor."

She giggled the whole way upstairs until she placed her down in front of her appartment door. The blonde looked up at her.

"Than-kiiieees."

She held onto her, swaying. Only then did Hanne notice little fingers tampering with her waistband. She snatched both slender wrists with one hand.

"What-?", Hanne began.

The eyes of the human woman were large and glossy. The thin lips were parted slightly in surprise.

"No?" She asked.

‘No’ what? Oh. Ohhh.

"Don't you think I'm a size too large for you?"

She twisted her mouth and shrugged. Then she wiggled her fingers as if it was funny to her.

"Wouldn't you like to at least, like, come in for a moment and then we'll see what happens?", she cooed.

"I told you earlier, that softhead slipped you something."

All of sudden, she frowned.

"So what? That can be fun, too, right?” She spitefully tried to withdraw her hands from her grip. Hanne let her. "First you pulled me away from Tarnopol and now you don't wanna do anything either – what gives?"

He stared at her, stunned. So the situation had been very different from what he had thought. And thinking himself to be Prince charming he’d climbed up the high rise like King Kong with the white woman.

"Oh."

"No- no, sorry." She held her head in her hand.

His was warming up.

"You really could have said something earlier."

“No – it wasn't like that at all – I'm sorry for what I said. It wasn't like that. Can't we just go in and forget it?” She smiled hopefully.

What should he say? No, you're not right in the head right now? Didn't work before. No, squishies look like kids to me? That might just get her to try harder. No, women only want me because of my strength and you are no exception? Was none of her damn business.

He saw her swallow hard.

"Nah… nah, it's okay. I get it. You don't want me. Because I'm trash. Guys like Tarno, I can get those. ‘cause they're trash, too.” She hid her face in her hands. A sob escaped her. "But if you have a spark of decency, you just have to be able smell it a mile away.”

Turns out P1nk wasn't that mood-elevating after all. He looked around the hallway with a tinge of concern. Blonde young human woman, crying, alone with a troll. Very bad look. And who knew what she would say tomorrow? Then he remembered – by tomorrow she would have forgotten everything anyways.

He looked down at her. A small, pale, soft thing, defenseless and begging for his attention. The kind of girl who wouldn't even look at him in school. One of those who boozed up every weekend because otherwise she’d have no personality. One who made out with any bastard because she thought cruelty to be the same as power or a sense of humor. She was just as desperate as he had always hoped in the darkest crevices of his soul. And nothing he did to her tonight would have any consequences.

So he made her a lemon cake.

* = Trog: (vulgar) derogatory term for orcs or trolls.

** = Plex: Short for „Metroplex“, big city complex.