#Protective Textiles Industry

[popsicle-stick]

working boatwomen of the british canal system, 19th-20th centuries

[brithombar]

tamora pierce circle of magic series being the first fantasy series i got really invested in set me up for failure with fantasy worldbuilding because i expected womens work to be incorporated into like anything in the series and it just never is. everything is a hard crust of black bread or a spicy fantasy tuber because it's not masculine to care about what people eat or wear

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

Flameproofing Futures: Navigating the Fire-Resistant Fabrics Market Landscape

The global fire-resistant fabrics market is witnessing growth and is projected to reach USD 5.9 billion by 2030. This growth can be credited to the increase in the demand for such materials from the chemical, oil & gas, and construction sectors. Credited to the severe guidelines for workplace safety in advanced countries. On the basis of type, the industry is divided into treated and inherent…

[reasonsforhope]

Federal regulators on Tuesday [April 23, 2024] enacted a nationwide ban on new noncompete agreements, which keep millions of Americans — from minimum-wage earners to CEOs — from switching jobs within their industries.

The Federal Trade Commission on Tuesday afternoon voted 3-to-2 to approve the new rule, which will ban noncompetes for all workers when the regulations take effect in 120 days [So, the ban starts in early September, 2024!]. For senior executives, existing noncompetes can remain in force. For all other employees, existing noncompetes are not enforceable.

[That's right: if you're currently under a noncompete agreement, it's completely invalid as of September 2024! You're free!!]

The antitrust and consumer protection agency heard from thousands of people who said they had been harmed by noncompetes, illustrating how the agreements are "robbing people of their economic liberty," FTC Chair Lina Khan said. 

The FTC commissioners voted along party lines, with its two Republicans arguing the agency lacked the jurisdiction to enact the rule and that such moves should be made in Congress...

Why it matters

The new rule could impact tens of millions of workers, said Heidi Shierholz, a labor economist and president of the Economic Policy Institute, a left-leaning think tank. 

"For nonunion workers, the only leverage they have is their ability to quit their job," Shierholz told CBS MoneyWatch. "Noncompetes don't just stop you from taking a job — they stop you from starting your own business."

Since proposing the new rule, the FTC has received more than 26,000 public comments on the regulations. The final rule adopted "would generally prevent most employers from using noncompete clauses," the FTC said in a statement.

The agency's action comes more than two years after President Biden directed the agency to "curtail the unfair use" of noncompetes, under which employees effectively sign away future work opportunities in their industry as a condition of keeping their current job. The president's executive order urged the FTC to target such labor restrictions and others that improperly constrain employees from seeking work.

"The freedom to change jobs is core to economic liberty and to a competitive, thriving economy," Khan said in a statement making the case for axing noncompetes. "Noncompetes block workers from freely switching jobs, depriving them of higher wages and better working conditions, and depriving businesses of a talent pool that they need to build and expand."

Real-life consequences

In laying out its rationale for banishing noncompetes from the labor landscape, the FTC offered real-life examples of how the agreements can hurt workers.

In one case, a single father earned about $11 an hour as a security guard for a Florida firm, but resigned a few weeks after taking the job when his child care fell through. Months later, he took a job as a security guard at a bank, making nearly $15 an hour. But the bank terminated his employment after receiving a letter from the man's prior employer stating he had signed a two-year noncompete.

In another example, a factory manager at a textile company saw his paycheck dry up after the 2008 financial crisis. A rival textile company offered him a better job and a big raise, but his noncompete blocked him from taking it, according to the FTC. A subsequent legal battle took three years, wiping out his savings. 

-via CBS Moneywatch, April 24, 2024

--

Note:

A lot of people think that noncompete agreements are only a white-collar issue, but they absolutely affect blue-collar workers too, as you can see from the security guard anecdote.

In fact, one in six food and service workers are bound by noncompete agreements. That's right - one in six food workers can't leave Burger King to work for Wendy's [hypothetical example], in the name of "trade secrets." (x, x, x)

Noncompete agreements also restrict workers in industries from tech and video games to neighborhood yoga studios. "The White House estimates that tens of millions of workers are subject to noncompete agreements, even in states like California where they're banned." (x, x, x)

The FTC estimates that the ban will lead to "the creation of 8,500 new businesses annually, an average annual pay increase of $524 for workers, lower health care costs, and as many as 29,000 more patents each year for the next decade." (x)

Clearer explanation of noncompete agreements below the cut.

Noncompete agreements can restrict workers from leaving for a better job or starting their own business.

Noncompetes often effectively coerce workers into staying in jobs they want to leave, and even force them to leave a profession or relocate.

Noncompetes can prevent workers from accepting higher-paying jobs, and even curtail the pay of workers not subject to them directly.

Of the more than 26,000 comments received by the FTC, more than 25,000 supported banning noncompetes. 

[elodieunderglass]

This morning Dr Glass decided to offer me the opportunity to enjoy some psychic damage and harm. “Are you ready for something that will hurt you a lot?” He asked, linking me to an article in The Telegraph, a right-wing UK newspaper, advertising some content published by an even-more-right-wing think tank.

The Telegraph headline is trying to make it sound like a proper research “report” but it’s just an ad for this guy’s book.

While it’s interesting to remember & reflect on the fact that the transatlantic slave trade enriched individuals, while the majority of British citizens were forced to pay for the military that enforced the colonial violence that protected that wealth, it isn’t exactly a “gotcha” that somehow undoes the logic of reparation. The intended audience just skims headlines and then gets mad, so the rest of the writing is really just a prop to justify the headline.

However, as Dr Glass knew it would, the sheep farming thing took me out at the knees.

Wandering about with a blank stare wondering if British sheep farming - sheep farming! Shaped the ecosystem of a nation! Sheep! Roman Britain! Chalk downland ecosystems! Queen Elizabeth’s mint sauce! The Highland Clearances! Textiles! Industrial Revolution what! help!!! - is something the guy, like. hasn’t heard about. like he just somehow coasted his way into a paid job doing british economic history never hearing about sheep farming, so it can sort of be waved away. “Why get so upset about slavery when it was only as impactful in British economic history as sheep farming, which we NEVER hear about” is such a deranged take that I hang myself up on it like a cartoon character stuck on a tree while falling off a cliff.

. Like I get that this is disingenuous but that deranged little broken part of me, as Dr Glass predicted, is practically frantic wondering if the guy somehow just had Sheep Blindness Syndrome, like he mentally overwrites all instances of encountered sheep as, like, mushrooms or something. I keep explaining to my mind that he is just using cheap&nasty rhetoric with no intention of standing up to scrutiny, but I am also the innocent and passionate child grabbing myself by the collar going ELODIE HOW DID HE MISS THE SHEEP? IS HE OKAY?

Anyway, spreading out the damage amongst you all instead so I can focus on my day .

[iguanodont]

Introducing a new birg culture, and the reason the Twowi go to such lengths to cross the icy equator with their cargoes of rare metal and pungent gall-spice. The Ss’wassoum are a wealthy empire based on the far southern coast, where the sea-ice melts more quickly in the spring and its people first built their wealth on the sea-harvest. Their language is heavy on harmonized syllables, which lends their speech a distinctive musical quality. Family units are smaller than the fiercely clannish Twowi, and the gender divide is less rigid, though still distinctly matriarchal. Some of their most lucrative raw exports are refined tree-plastics and sea-silk, which is valued for fine textiles.

While the Twowi run on highly specialized industrial clan-towns, the Ss’wassoum exist in more diverse cities, though the class divide is impossible to ignore. The nobility are loud of dress and voice, with their ornate refined plastic head-dresses, vividly patterned veils, and resonators worn over the rear spiracles to enhance their voices. But despite all the attention they draw to themselves, their faces are always covered; to be perceived as gray-furred mortals akin to any commoner is inconceivable. They walk the streets as living demigods. Just below the nobility are the merchant class, which may approach their influence in wealth and education but are legally barred from the elaborate headwear and home exteriors of their superiors. Instead they adorn the insides of their homes with the latest in art and technology, particularly elaborate electric light fixtures crafted from imported Twowi metal. Commoners wear little at all in the sunny months, save for the occasional beaded sash and brass mandible-cuffs. Sailors and other hard laborers frequently adorn their bodies with scarified and dyed patterns to mark themselves for the goodwill of protective gods.

The Ss’wassoum government does implement a standardized education system of sorts, though only those of the upper class can test or pay their way into the finest schools, where they can master the high dialect and the art of Opinion. Historically, etiquette laws forbade the discussion of controversial topics in public spaces; these were reserved for halls of judgement. The rule is more of a social taboo these days, but an ancient loophole ruled that written forms of debate could be presented anywhere, and with the subsequent invention of movable type, a colorful written debate culture flourished. Wherever there is a public bulletin, a cafe wall, a blank space where people gather, you fill find posted essays on anything from the hypocrisy of the noble class to a long winded treatise on the merits of toe-biter clams. It is not uncommon for a debate topic to outlive the original essayists, as hills are chosen to literally die on are then proudly upheld by the writer’s descendants. So ingrained into Ss’wassoum society is this debate culture, that committed debate rivals may be legally recognized as a marriage-like partnership. Though the Ss’wassoum carry no expectations of monogamy to a reproductive partner, the correlation between rivalry and mating season partners does not go unnoticed. As a general rule, a worldly and strongly opinionated individual is more attractive.

Big thanks to @primalmuckygoop for pitching so many great ideas for these guys, including most of the lore on their debate culture, and the very name of this civilization!

—————

If you’d like to see more stuff in the works for birgworld, check out my Patreon!

Or you can support me through Kofi and Inprnt

[lovebeinaprincessworld]

Unusual Love (Cato Hadley x reader)

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Description: Your chances of winning the games were zero, but you would have thought the chances of falling in love with a Career would’ve been even lower.

Warnings: first time, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum, talk of death, no protection

8811 words

This was the material of all the nightmares you had as a child. Except this time you wouldn’t wake up, that you were sure of. You hadn’t been shocked when no one volunteered when your name was called at the reaping, you lived in District 8 after all, but you had still hoped in the back of your mind. You weren’t even going to make it through the first day in the arena, that much was certain, and thinking about how this would have been your second to last reaping before you would have been save, made you feel defeated already.

You were good at what you were doing in your district, you were relatively short and your small hands were perfect for embroidering. But the skills you learned in your textile industry heavy home, wouldn’t help you killing other people. Not that you thought you would be able to actually end somebody else’s life. Trying to find allies would probably prove difficult too, you were too shy and didn’t bring any helpful skills to the table anyway.

So now that you were on the train to the Capitol and saw the reaping in the other districts, you accepted your chances were zero. The boy from your district was a year younger than you, 16 and he was so arrogant. If you remembered correctly his name was Taron. He acted as if he was too good for all of this, eventhough you could see he was scared. But you did your best to steer clear of him, especially after one ‚accidental‘ grab of your butt earlier at the meeting with your mentors. You really didn’t need that right now.

Your mentors Woof and Cecelia seemed alright, maybe you could learn a few skills just so you could escape the brutal deaths at the cornucopia. You leaned back in your seat, watching the world fly by outside and you tried not to cry (again) as you thought of your younger brother and parents back at home.

———————

When the door to your bedroom on the eighth level of the building finally shut, you fell onto the bed with an exhausted huff. You felt like a plucked chicken, your skin almost uncomfortably clean and scrubbed. Your stylist seemed nice enough, she was a little too much of course - like everyone in the capitol - but she didn’t seem to be excited at the idea of sending you off to get murdered. You had about two hours before they would pick you up to get dressed and styled for the parade, and you intended to try and not think about all the ways you could die in a weeks time.

You had to admit, the costumes Aspasia designed for you were really fitting for your district. She picked the most eyecatching fabric and surprisingly made a very simple but stunningly flattering dress for you. It hugged your body in the all the right places and was dramatic, but the focus was still on the eyecatching fabric. Your hair was styled in a half up half down hairdo, flowing over your back in soft waves. You definitely felt like a princess, and you were grateful to Aspasia that she didn’t dress you as a glittering sewing needle or some stupid stuff.

Taron hovered close to you when you stood next to the chariot you were supposed to drive out there on. His presence always gave you the ick, he seemed to try and make the most of his last days and you were doing your best to avoid him whenever you could. Suddenly you felt an intense stare on the side of your face, and when you looked over to your right, you saw it was the tall blonde Career from District 2.

Your heart immediately started to speed up, his stare wasn’t necessarily predatory but in that moment you were sure he was thinking about how easy you were to kill. You did have to note that he was very handsome, but probably just as deadly - if not more - so you quickly broke the eyecontact and tried to reign in your blush.

You couldn’t have been further from the truth though, Cato wasn’t planning on how to kill you, he was just very good at not showing emotions. In reality he was stunned by how beautiful you looked, he had seen your reaping and thought you were cute but the dress you wore made you practically glow, his heart betraying his mind and beating harder in his chest when your eyes met. When you blushed he felt something stir inside of him, but he quickly shook it off. This was stupid, you were only some easy to kill tribute from a lower district - at least he tried to convince himself of that.

—————————

You were up early the next day, you were so nervous for the first day of training and especially scared to meet the other tributes for real. God, what if you embarrassed yourself, you were sure to be a number one target of they saw how useless you were. Woof and Cecelia advised you to concentrate on survival skills rather than fighting, finding water and food was more important than knowing how to use a knife - at least in your case.

You tried to blend into the background, and you were succeeding for the most part. There was only one pair of eyes you couldn’t seem to shake and it was the same as the evening before. Why was he staring at you so much? You were getting so flustered from his stare that you couldn’t concentrate on anything. You were currently hiding out at the fire station, and you were glad he seemed to be occupied by sword training, because his attention was making you feel things you shouldn’t - things you were sure were a figment of your imagination anyway.

You were failing at starting a fire pathetically and the instructor was helping a younger boy at the moment, but suddenly someone kneeled next to you. „You’re doing it wrong“, you winced and your head snapped up. It was the female tribute from district 12. „I know“, you sighed and finally gave up, putting down the stick. „Let me show you“, she was a little rough with her words but you were stunned that she even talked to you.

In minutes she had a fire going and you were slightly embarrassed because of your incompetence. „Come on, you try“, she urged you, pushing the utensils into your hands. It took a while longer than hers, but eventually you actually had a small fire. „I did it! Thank you“, you genuinely smiled at her, „Katniss right?“ She just nodded and got up, making her way to the station with the traps. Now that you weren’t distracted anymore, you could feel Catos eyes on you again.

But you were quickly distracted again, Taron moving into your personal space with a smirk. „Oh I see you did something there sweetheart“, he chuckled and patted your back encouragingly, making you cringe away slightly. „Don’t call me that“, you muttered and started to get up, but he grabbed your arm tightly. „Now, now I was only trying to be nice“, he tutted, god he was so condescending. You tried to shake him off again and to your relief he let you go with a roll of his eyes this time.

Cato had to gather all his self control to not rush over to the boy from your district and kill him already. He tried to entertain himself with the thought that he would be the first that would be killed by him. Definitely. The boy obviously made you uncomfortable and when he grabbed your arm, Cato couldn’t keep the frown off his face. Glimmer noticed. „What is it Cato?“, she followed his gaze and frowned too.

„That guy seems like such a slimy douchebag“, she seemed to think the same as him and now Clove noticed too. At least you managed to shake him off. „Yeah, I saw him trying to feel up the redhead from District 5“, she looked appalled and now Catos thoughts were only circling about what that boy tried to do when you were on your floor. He definitely needed to teach him a lesson somehow. He turned away from the scene with a grunt, picking up a sword and releasing his frustration on one of the dummies.

————————

You felt like you were suffocating, you just couldn’t fall asleep. You needed fresh air but the windows had no way of opening and the different views you could control with the remote did nothing for you. For the last hour you had been debating if you should risk taking the stairs you had seen the avox use earlier today and see if there’s a rooftop exit.

With a quiet sigh you threw back your cover, throwing on a sweater on top of your pajama and slipping on your shoes. You silently tiptoed across the floor towards the door, hoping that no one would be around to stop you. You opened the door carefully, not knowing what exactly was on the other side, but it was just an empty concrete staircase. You were looking over your shoulder a few times when you made your way upwards, nervously tugging the sleeves of your sweater down.

When you finally made it past door 12, you were greeted with a door that said ‚rooftop‘ and was already slightly ajar. You hestitated for a second, but what’s the worst that could happen? So you silently pushed the door open. There was a small windowless building on top, probably for ac-units, but otherwise it was empty. There was a railing and you were sure there were other protections against people jumping that were invisible.

You walked towards the small building, planning to sit behind it near the edge so you can lean against it. But when you rounded the corner you stopped abruptly. There already sat a figure, and now you were reprimanding yourself for not connecting the open door to someone being here. And when you looked closer you could see it was Cato, and he was already looking at you.

„S-sorry, I’ll just go“, you stumbled over your words, his intense gaze making you nervous once more. „Stay (Y/N)“, his voice was rough and he talked in such a demanding way that your body halted on its own. He knew your name? „Sit“, he instructed you and as if you had no will of your own (or maybe you actually wanted to be near him) you walked over to him slowly and sat down, keeping some distance between you.

You sat in tense silence and you stared out onto the skyline while you could feel his eyes roam over your face. „Couldn’t sleep either?“, he asked, his voice sending a shiver down your back. A good one. „No, I felt like I suffocated in there“, you sighed, your arms hugging your knees. „Me neither“, he chuckled and you finally gathered the courage to turn your head. His blue eyes were piercing yours, not in a threatening but in a curious way. You couldn’t fight the blush and caught his smirk before you looked forwards again.

„Why? Too much on your mind?“, you questioned, trying to fill the silence. He hummed affirmatively. „This is all really different from what I thought would happen“, he elborated, but you didn’t question him further, not wanting to pry. „Yeah“, you sighed, and you continued to sit in silence. But it wasn’t tense, it was kind of comforting.

„That boy, the one from your district“, Cato started, and he could see your face scrunch up a little. „Mhm what about him?“, you asked, turning your head and meeting his eyes once again and his stomach tingled pleasantly. „He’s bothering you“, he stated, it wasn’t a question, he knew that boy made you uncomfortable and it made his anger flare up again.

„Uhm yeah, kind of“, you were unsure why Cato would care about that, but he looked so good angry you could barely question it. „What did he do?“, his voice was a little strained, but he was good at masking his emotions, you had to give him that. „It‘s not that bad, he just seems to think he has to make the most out of his last days“, you shuddered when you thought about his grab on the train, thankfully he didn’t do that again.

„Did he touch you?“, he scooted closer to you, looking serious and you shrank back a little. „N-no…just one time, in the train he…“, you didn’t dare lie to him, you felt as though he could see right through you. „He what?“, his teeth were clenched and you answered him in a whisper: „He uhm grabbed my butt.“

Cato had to clench and unclench his fists to keep calm. He didn’t understand why he reacted that way to you being disrespected like that, but he couldn’t keep it suppressed anymore. He grumbled unhappily and leaned back against the wall behind him. His chest felt kind of restricted at the thought of another man touching you, and he was going crazy because of the inner war he was fighting. You and these new intense feelings on one side and his upbringing and what he thought he was supposed to do on the other.

——————

You didn’t feel his eyes on you as much the next day at training, but you still did from time to time. You were at the station were you could learn about poisonous plants when it happened. „Where the fuck is my knife 8? I left it right here!“, Cato barked at your male counterpart, making him visibly flinch. He tried to put on a brave facade though, squaring his shoulders. „I don’t have it“, Taron answered but the Career from District 2 just laughed and menacingly walked towards the much shorter other male.

„Fuck you, I know you’ve taken it!“, Cato growled at the now obviously terrified boy and grabbed his collar, and he could see the peacemakers started to walk towards them. He leaned in close and made the point he actually started all of this for. „If you ever touch (Y/N) again you’re dead, do you hear me?“, no one heard him but the boy in his grip and he nodded so hard he could have broken his neck with some bad luck.

You watched in shock as the two males were pulled apart, actually more like Cato was pulled off of Taron. Cato held his hands up in a peaceful manner and was let go with a warning, and when he turned and met your eyes, you swear he flashed a smile at you, making your heart pound and your face grow hot.

You turned back towards what you were doing before, but your concentration was gone. Your heart calmed down eventually, but you were realizing what this was developing into. You heard the adults in your district describe it and it felt just like that. You were starting to fall for the tall Carreer.

———————

You couldn’t resist the fresh air on the rooftop tonight - and maybe you were hoping to see Cato again. And you were lucky, he sat there in just the same spot. When he heard you walking towards him, he looked over and gave you a smile, a real genuine one for the first time. „Hey“, you smiled too, and he nodded as a greeting.

You sat down next to him, a little closer than yesterday. „How was dinner? Did Taron bother you?“, Cato looked curious and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. „No he left me alone for once…“, his face lit up with a satisfied smirk and you were unsure why he would suspect something changed, but then you remembered their alteration today.

„Cato“, you looked at him wide eyed and he felt the need to protect you flare up again at your innocent stare, the way you said his name made him feel the weakest he felt in years. „Mhm?“, he was still smirking, happy that he successfully scared the boy off. „There was no knife was there“, you worded it like a question, but he knew you figured it out. „Nah“, he chuckled and looked over the skyline.

Once your brain caught up with the fact that he scared off Taron to protect you, your heart was almost jumping out of your chest. Why would he protect you? He was a Career, he was trained to win this, to murder, why would he care about you in any way? Honestly you were even more touched because of that. „Thank you“, you whispered and your hand squeezed his biceps - his big and bulging biceps - automatically.

The feeling of your skin on his spread a fire through his body he didn’t know was possible. His head snapped towards you, and it seemed to startle you because you pulled your hand away. At least you tried to, but he didn’t want you to stop touching him, so he quickly grabbed your hand with his and interlaced your fingers, his grip firm but gentle. He didn’t say anything, and you didn’t either, but neither of you let go while you were sitting there together.

—————————

The fourth day at training you were surprised again, Cato actually approached you at where you were trying your best at painting your skin to camouflage. You had sat together yesterday too, holding hands again and your head had even slid onto his shoulder, but you would have never thought he would talk to you infront of the other tributes. Wouldn’t that damage his reputation? And that only a few days before entering the arena.

„That looks pretty good“, he was being nice, it didn’t look pretty good. You weren’t really talented at this either. The only thing you knew you were good at was climbing, you had climbed trees all your childhood and your small light frame was perfect for that. But your mentors told you to not show your strengths infront of the others, but rather work on your weaknesses.

„Uhm thanks, maybe it would work if it’s dark“, you tried to convince yourself at this point looking down at your arm and then put the brush down with a sigh. „What are you doing Cato?“, you looked at him in wonder. „I just…I wanted to talk to you“, he was clearly at a loss for words, and to see the strong scary Career like that - because of you! - made you smile. „Do you think that’s a good idea? Your…friends look equally confused and murderous“, you could see the three of them look at Cato like he was insane, the girl from his district looked like she wanted to throw the knife she was holding at your head right now.

„They’re not my friends“, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his muscles straining and you were flustered immediately. Why were you so unable to control yourself damn it. You didn’t look at him, but you could already envision that stupidly hot smirk. „How about I show you a few easy things with a knife hm?“, he nodded over to the weapons that you had been steering clear of until now.

„I-I don’t know I‘ve never…“, you tried to avoid embarrassing yourself but he cut you off by grabbing your arm and leading you over there, the other Careers still watching in shock. „Can’t hurt“, he shrugged and gave you a smaller knife, the object feeling foreign in your grip. You appreciated the thought and you felt it was really sweet of him to try and teach you but the only thing you wanted right now was for the floor to open up and swallow you.

———————

It wasn’t as much of an embarrassment as you thought it would be, after a few minutes the attention from the other tributes subsided eventually and Cato actually taught you a few moves, most of them selfdefense. Everytime he had you in his grip, you were blushing and he seemed to love it. You were pushing open the door to the rooftop again, glad you hadn’t been caught yet.

This time you were carrying a blanket, it was a little cold yesterday and you wanted to make sure you didn’t have to cut your time with him short. He perked up immediately when he heard you, a smile lighting up his face, and you were stunned that this was how you were spending your time before entering the arena - falling in love. Who were you kidding, you weren’t falling you already fell. It was a tragedy really.

But before you could dwell on it too much, you were close enough and to your surprise he took your hand and pulled you down in between his legs, your back to his chest and his arms around your waist. You were breathless for a second, but then remembered how to get air into your lungs and relaxed against him. You still didn’t remember how to talk though, so he took the blanket out of your hands gently and spread it over the two of you.

He couldn’t help but act on his urge to have you close, in three days you would enter the arena and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you - he was stunned by how intense his feelings were. He was supposed to be focused on winning this, that was what he had been trained for, being honour to his District. But with you in his arms like that, your hands softly settling on top of his, he couldn’t be interested any less in that. And it scared him just as much as it made him feel in love.

„Cato, what are we doing?“, your negative thoughts were back, you shifted slightly to look up into his face. He frowned and his grip on you tightened slightly. „What do you mean?“, he grunted and didn’t meet your eyes, he knew what you meant. „This, us“, you gestured between you two, „I mean, why are you so nice to me? Not that I don’t like it, I do, but it makes no sense.“

He closed his eyes for a second with a heavy sigh, he knew sooner or later that would come up. He had hoped for later. „I don’t know, I can’t help it“, he was really bad at voicing his feelings, he was taught that it’s a weakness, „you make me…feel things I’ve never felt before.“ You heart was beating so fast you could hear the blood rush in your ears. You knew that for him that was a crazy emotional thing to admit.

„I feel it too“, you smiled, but that smile turned sad quickly and you sighed, „but you realize that…I mean we’ll enter the arena soon.“ You leaned back, your head against his shoulder and it felt like this was the only place in the Capitol you were safe.

„I’ll protect you“, he grumbled, the thought of what could and would happen in the arena made him sick, not excited as it had before. „There’s only one winner Cato“, you whispered, „ and it’s never going to be me, I’m probably the first that gets killed.“ It was almost painful to hear you say that, and only your soft grip on his hands kept him grounded. „You won’t“, he was sure he could protect you, and if it came to it, maybe he would even sacrifice himself so you could live. He was momentarily stunned by the intensity of that thought, but it was true nonetheless.

„What about the other Careers? Aren’t they your allies? They already look like they would like to kill me“, you saw how he got more agitated, „I don’t…I don’t want you to feel responsible for me, I kind of accepted my death the moment my name was called, we should just-“ He interrupted you in a way you never would have thought you got to experience before dying in the arena.

He kissed you. It was a little rough because of his anger but his lips were so soft, and your whole body was tingling pleasantly. After the initial shock you turned in his arms, your hand lacing behind his neck and your reciprocated the kiss gently. You were basically straddling him, but the thight grip he had on your hips let you know it was fine. His lips moved against yours carefully but he was definitely leading the kiss, his demanding and dominant nature making you feel some type of way.

Cato couldn’t believe he was kissing you, he hadn’t felt this good in years. He had kissed - and done other things with - girls before you, but it never ever came even close to what this innocent kiss made him feel. All thoughts of you or him dying were pushed aside for now, he just focused on you. After a few more moments he pulled away breathlessly, opening his eyes and studying your face. You were panting too, you eyes still closed and your pretty lips a little swollen, you were unbelievably beautiful in this moment. „I will protect you“, he repeated himself, not leaving any space for protest before he kissed you again, with a little more passion this time.

———————

Cato had been all over you on the fifth day of training, he didn’t leave your side, just once and only to perfect what he would show tomorrow. That gave you a little time to breathe, he was determined to teach you as much as possible, ignoring all the looks you two were getting. You were once again hiding at the fire station, not from Catos eyes but from the others this time.

„That looks much better than your first attempt“, the voice of the girl from district 12 startled you, she sat down next to you and watched the other tributes in the hall. „Thanks, I had a good teacher“, you smiled, at least someone here was decent to you - and didn’t outright look ready to kill you or was terrified because of Catos presence.

Katniss didn’t know why she approached you again, she didn’t really want any allies but your gentle nature reminded her of Prim - eventhough you were older. She was also a little relieved to talk to someone other than Effie, Haymitch and Peeta, even if it was just superficial smalltalk. The training days were starting to become a little dull. „Cato looks like he’s about to kill me“, she noticed the scary Careers stare on her now that she was close to you.

„Sorry about that“, you sighed, your fire long forgotten. „Don’t be, he’s worried for you, it’s…surprising but nice to see there is something good left in this place“, she shrugged, meeting your eyes and you nodded in agreement. You were surprised the girl talked to you, but she was nice enough. „You want me to show you how to set up a simple trap?“, she offered and you were surprised again. „Yeah sure! That would be great“, you followed her immediately, knowing that a skill like that could come in handy.

„Yeah good, just pull that string a little tighter“, she pointed to the one on the left, and you fixed it quickly. „That looks right“, she nodded, and you were a little proud you actually did it. „Thanks Katniss, you’re a good teacher“, you were happy about her company, she was a little cold but still nice. „I’ll leave you to your Career“, the ghost of a smile dashed over he face and she was gone, her place quickly filled by Cato.

„What was that?“, he sat down next to you, scowling at the retreating girl. „She showed me how to make a trap“, you pointed in front of you and he grumbled a little. „Don’t be like that, she is nice“, you rolled your eyes and the frown on his face deepend. „How about you? Ready for tomorrow?“, you tried to distract him, you didn’t want to argue about this.

„Yeah“, he was gruff but you didn’t take it personally, that’s just how he was. „Good“, you gave him a soft smile, and it seemed like that did relax him a little. „Are you ready too?“, he looked a little worried again and you saw his hand reach out for you before he dropped it again, it wouldn’t be very smart to display affection like that infront of the other tributes - they were suspicious enough as it was.

„I am, Cecelia told me not to show the others what I can do so I couldn’t practice it though“, at that he raised his brows in surprise. „What? You thought there was nothing I’m good at?“, you asked giggling and he smiled too. „No, no, I’m just curious now“, he stood up swiftly, pulling you up along with him. „Come on, I’ll teach you some more“, he decided.

———————

You were laying in his arms again, his face buried in your neck and you fingers interlaced gently. „I talked to the others today“, he suddenly said, his voice against your neck making you fidget slightly. „About what?“, you asked, his head sliding out of your neck and watching your face instead.

„They still want me to be their ally, and they promised to leave you alone“, he seemed unsure of your reaction, but he was calm nonetheless. „What?“, you were shocked, the glares you always got from them - especially Glimmer - would have never let you guess they would agree to not kill you. Than again, their chances were multiplying with Cato on their side, he was probably the strongest tribute this year.

„I told you I would protect you in there and I meant that, you are…very important to me“, he was mumbling quietly at the end, but you still heard him. „You’re important to me too, but Cato I mean realistically…what if it comes down to us two? I don’t want you to have to ki-”, he interrupted you angrily. „Don’t say that!“, his voice became louder and suddenly had an edge to it, but he took a deep breath and took your cheek into his hand, „don’t…don’t say that, please. We‘ll think about that when the time comes.“

You gently laid your hand on top of the one that was still holding your cheek and only managed to nod. Instead of trying to find the right words, you just leaned in, pressing your lips to his softly and closing your eyes. He immediately pulled you closer, reciprocating and moving his lips in sync with yours, your lips fit together perfectly.

Your taste made his senses go into overdrive, his tongue slowly tracing your lips and sliding in between them. When he sat up there with you, being this close, he could forget the future that was ahead for a few moments. When you held onto him like that it made him feel comfortable, a possessiveness and need to protect you fall over him. Contrary to Glimmer who had hung onto him the first day of training. That girl had made his skin crawl.

————————

You were sitting infront of the TV with your mentors and Taron, Aspasia and Tarons stylist being there too. You were anxiously awaiting your rating, you had given your best to quickly move and climb around the obstacles, being as swift and silent as possible and showing what you got. You had also shown some of your survival skills and skills that involved plants, so you hoped all in all it would be enough for a decent rating

Cato had sat with you when you were waiting to be called on, he was the third one that had to go but it was still nice to have some support. He obviously got a high ranking - a 10 to be exact - and you were honestly very proud of him, god you were so in love. District 7 was just finished when they put your picture on an you were nervously moving on the couch. „(Y/N) (Y/L/N) from District 8 with a rating of…7.“ Oh wow, that was so much better than you thought.

„That’s great! Good job“, Woof clapped you on the back hard and you just had to smile. „Taron Hunlor from District 8 with a rating of…5“, you were surprised he was worse than you, but then again you hadn’t seen him do anything useful at training. „That’s good!“, Cecelia tried to congratulate him, but he got up with a grunt and went to his room.

You were the first on the roof today, and after half an hour you had nearly given up hope that you would see Cato today, but then you finally heard the door open and he rounded the corner slightly out of breath. You beamed up at him and he immediately picked you up, the blanket tumbling to the floor. You squealed slightly at the way he manhandled you - but it also made you feel a little hot.

He sat down where you sat before, you now sitting on his lap and wrapped in his strong arms. „I’m sorry, I couldn’t sneak out earlier, Brutus and Enobaria stayed up forever“, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. „Don’t worry, I’m just glad you came“, you smiled gently and the frown melted off his face, his eyes studying you for a second.

You were so beautiful, the soft wind was moving your hair and the way you were always looking at him so soft and loving made him fall for you more every moment you were together. He carefully gripped your cheek in his calloused hand and pulled you in for a kiss, just a short one. „I’m so proud of you by the way, how on earth did you get a 7?“, he had been genuinely surprised that you got such a good rating, and also had been positively gloating when that boy from your district was worse.

„What’s that supposed to mean? You thought I wouldn’t?“, you grinned and he tickled your side with a chuckle, until you pushed his hands away with a laugh. „I’m quite talented at climbing and stuff, guess that was enough“, you shrugged and he raised his brows in wonder. „You must’ve been really good at that then, don’t be so humble“, he smiled and kissed you again. „Mhm, I’m proud of you too by the way, not that I didn’t expect your score“, you mumbled between kisses, but he just grunted and continued kissing you.

His hand tangled in your hair, while his other pulled you flush against him and he moved his lips against yours more urgently. You hummed contently, matching his rhythm and sinking into his embrace, you loved how intense he got when he felt you relax and be completely at his mercy. He was more than a little possessive, but you loved it - if you were being honest it made you fantasize about the other things you two could be doing, you had heard the other teens in your district talk about it sometimes.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth gently, the way it softly moved with yours making you little lightheaded. You two seperated for air, a sigh leaving your lips, his forehead pressed against yours. „I love you“, it was almost inaudible, but you could clearly hear the term slip out of his mouth, your eyes opening in shock. A fraction of a second later he went rigid, his eyes opening even quicker than yours, and you could tell that he let it slip out on accident.

„Shit, I’m sorry it’s way too early- I mean I didn’t mean to let that slip- Fuck why did I-“, you were shocked to see the normally cool and hardened Career so unsure of himself and quickly interrupted him with a short kiss. „Did you mean it?“, you whispered, you loved him, you were a hundred percent sure of that, but you needed to know if he only said that in the spur of the moment or if he honestly felt that way.

„Yeah, I did mean it“, he breathed, a little calmer but still on edge, Cato wasn’t used to wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he also felt a little relieved that he told you how he felt out loud. „I love you“, you were positively beaming, an equally happy smile lighting up Catos face, he was even more relieved now that he knew you reciprocated his feelings. You hadn’t known eachother for very long, but it felt like a lifetime already.

—————————

Your stylist team had finished your hair and makeup (and everything else that needed to be done) and now you were just waiting for Aspasia to dress you. „Hello sweetheart“, she was excited as always and couldn’t wait to show you the dress. But you weren’t prepared for the dress she pulled out. „No way“, you gasped and she looked a little confused by your intense reaction. „It’s pretty isn’t it?“, she smiled and walked over to you.

„No, no you don’t understand“, you were really excited, „that dress - I made that!“ She was stunned into silence for a moment, and looked between you and the dress in her hands in shock. „Seriously? That’s so impressive, and I mean what are the odds?“, she was so right, this was damn near impossible, but here you were. The dress ended above your knees, beautiful embroidery all over it.

„I was originally going to design you a new dress, but I saw that dress while I was out the other day, and I just was so captivated by its beauty plus I thought it would fit you perfectly“, she rambled while helping you into the dress, closing it and leading you to the mirror where the shoes were waiting. „You look stunning love“, she smiled and you actually felt like it too.

—————————

„You looked so beautiful today“, Cato panted between kisses, his hands tightly squeezing your hips and yours gently gripping his blonde hair. „T-thank you“, you were breathless when his lips left yours and wandered down your jaw and towards your neck instead. The interview wasn’t that bad actually, the fact that you had made that dress was a perfect ice breaker. „You looked very handsome too“, your voice went up at the end, Catos teeth slightly grazing the soft skin of your neck and sending a shiver down your back.

Cato just hummed, fully immersed in littering your neck with soft kisses, the reactions he pulled out of you making him grow hard. He didn’t mean to, but you were so pretty on top of him, all whining and grabbing his hair, he couldn’t help it. He didn’t even notice his hands slipped under your pajamatop, only when his fingertips grazed the underside of your breasts - fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra - and you tensed above him, did he get pulled out of his thoughts.

„Fuck, sorry I didn’t mean to-“, he immediately apologized and pulled back his hand, he was sure you’ve never done anything like that and he didn’t want to pressure you. „No! No it’s okay, I was just surprised…I’ve never…“, you were blushing and growing embarrassed and he thought you were so cute. „Don’t worry love, I don’t want to put pressure on you, I was just lost in you for a moment“, his thumbs stroked you red cheeks softly, a grin spreading on his face.

„You didn’t“, you mumbled, in reality the way he touched you had felt really good, „I liked it.“ His eyebrows were raising and you looked away shyly. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sleeping with him, you thought about how you were probably going to die tomorrow - and you wanted to be as close as possible to him tonight.

„You did?“, he was teasing you a little, but he was honestly curious what you were thinking at the moment. „Yeah…I mean I would like to…“, you had a hard time getting over your embarrassment while he was staring at you so intensely, „if you want to too, we could mhm…continue?“ You were sure the blush was spreading down your neck by now.

He was a little surprised to be honest, but also incredibly turned on by how you wanted to do this too. „I need to hear you say it pretty girl, need to make sure you actually want this“, he liked teasing you, but he was also telling the truth - he needed to make sure you consented to this. „Don’t make me say it Cato“, you were whining and squirmed in his lap, making it hard for him to concentrate, so he held onto your waist tightly, making you stop.

„I need to hear you say it (Y/N)“, he was kissing your neck softly, and you sighed quietly, making him pull you even closer. „I want to sleep with you Cato“, you whispered, but he heard you as if you shouted it, a shiver running through him, „do you…do you want to too?“ He groaned at the question. „Of course I want to baby, god you have no idea“, he moaned against your neck.

He held onto you tightly, laying the blanket across the rooftop and gently laying you down on it. „Are you sure you want this?“, he confirmed one more time, and you nodded impatiently. „Yes, yes I’m sure“, you pulled him down into a kiss, his hips wedged between your legs. He was bracing himself on top of you on his elbows, his biceps caging in your head.

While you were kissing, one his hands wandered under you pajamatop again and his fingertips softly skimmed over your skin, a shiver running through you when he ran his thumb over your already perked nipple. You sighed into his mouth and he pulled back and started peppering kisses over your jaw and to your neck. A little impatiently you grabbed the bottom of your top and pulled it over your head, and he froze for a second.

You were getting a little insecure with him just staring at your boobs, but when you blushed and tried to cover them he pushed your hands away with an unhappy grunt. „Don’t hide from me baby, you’re so beautiful“, he rumbled and you blushed even more, but before you could dwell on it, he lowered his mouth to the formerly neglected nipple and gently ran his tongue over it, making you hum and arch your back a little.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling at the fabric of his top until he let go of your nipple and helped you pull it off of him. You weren’t going to be the only one undressed, and when his toned and muscular upper body came to light you had to bite your lip not to let your moan slip out. Fuck he was so hot, and judging by his smirk he loved your reaction.

His ego inflated even more at the way you were unconsciously rubbing your legs together when he took of his shirt, and he couldn’t believe he would be your first. His lips went back to your perfectly soft boobs, and not being able to rule in his possessiveness he left a few marks, and then made his way down your belly, your hands in his hair making his brain feel all mushy.

You had touched yourself before, but never had you felt like that - your pussy was basically pulsing from his lips all over your body and you could feel there was a wet patch on your underwear. That man did things to you that made you forget everything around you. Your pants were pulled down your legs before you noticed and your lovers lips were on your body again, trailing kisses from your knee over the inside of your thigh towards where you needed him most.

„Cato please“, you were panting a little, his teasing and the anticipation were killing you. „Tell me what you want love“, he was kissing the juncture were your leg met you hips and you were writhing underneath him. „Please touch me“, you breathed, heat filling your cheeks but his grin made your lower stomach tingle in all the good ways.

„Anything you want“, he chuckled and pulled down you panties, but before you could even be selfconscious, he groaned at the sight of your dripping cunt and ran one of his calloused fingers down your slit. When he caught your clit, you whimpered, pushing your hips closer to get more of that feeling, your brain not being able to form a productive thought - you were completely at this tall Careers mercy.

„Fuck baby you’re so wet“, he groaned, his thumb circling your clit and his breath fanning over your pussy. You were so lost in the feeling of him that you didn’t notice his mouth lowering until suddenly his finger was gone and was replaced by his mouth. You gasped, the feeling of his tongue moving over your clit was overwhelming, the sight of his head between your legs so sinful you let out a moan.

He prodded your entrance with his fingers, two of them carefully slipping inside and you were blissed out. He curled them expertly into your spongey spot, your thighs basically smothering him but he didn’t seem to care, and you could feel the coil in your belly tightening. „You taste so good baby, you’re gonna cum for me? Cum all over my tongue come on“, he coaxed you and when he started sucking on your clit and added a third finger, the feeling of the slightly burning stretch and the pleasure of his mouth on you pushed you over the edge.

„Cato!“, you moaned out loud, clenching around his fingers and holding onto his hair for dear life. You were glad the streets were so loud or you would’ve been worried about being overheard. His fingers fucked you through your high, he was imagining your thight heat wrapped around him and groaned, the vibration making you twitch from overstimulation once you came down from your orgasm.

When he heard you whine, the feeling of his tongue too sensitive on your swollen and fucked out pussy, he pulled back and sucked his fingers clean while admiring your pretty face, all flushed and satisfied - satisfied by him, he thought with a smirk. While you were evening out your breathing, he quickly shed his pants and underwear before perching himself above you, his hard cock slapping against your belly, a hum leaving your mouth at the feeling.

„You’re so beautiful“, he whispered, placing kisses on your chin, forehead and cheeks, making you giggle slightly. He smiled at that, his heart beating faster and he embraced the feeling of how whipped for you he was. „I love you“, you laced your hands behind his neck, pulling him closer to kiss him and he happily yielded. „I love you too“, he mumbled between kisses, but then he felt your small hand wander down his chest and over his abs.

You fingertips slightly brushed the leaking head of his dick, a groan leaving his mouth and he grabbed your hand to stop you. „Fuck baby“, he panted, „if you touch me now I won’t last long.“ You were blushing and he just adored your pretty face, kissing you again, before grabbing your thighs and pulling them up against his hips.

„Are you sure you want this?“, he looked into your big innocent eyes, the head of his cock slipping through your wet folds, mixing his precum with your slick. „Yes, please, I’m sure Cato“, you nodded, of course you were nervous too, it was your first tim after all, but you trusted him completely. You heard the other girls talk about how it hurt the first time, and he was really big, but you were sure he knew what he was doing - why he knew that you didn’t want to think about too much, you weren’t angry or anything, but it still made you feel a little jealous.

He pushed the head of his cock into you and the stretch burned a little, but it wasn’t too bad. You could tell he had to hold back, and when you clenched around him he groaned, burying his face in your neck. You held onto his biceps, the bulging muscle straining from holding his weight up, and then he pushed his hips forward, opening you up more and more, until he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls resting against your ass. He stopped for a moment, giving you a second to get adjusted to his girth.

Cato was sure this was heaven, your cunt was so hot and tight and the sounds you made had him holding onto his selfcontrol for dear life - he had to stop himself from pounding into you right away. Your scent was enveloping him, your small hands on his arms and legs wrapped around his waist, he didn’t care about anything or anyone else in that moment - just you, and he knew you would be his priority from now on, always.

„Please Cato, need you“, you whimpered and he came back to reality when you clenched around him, pulling back from your neck and grabbing your thigh in one hand, before mounting you more securely and picking up a slow rhythm. You moaned, the way his veiny cock was dragging along your walls, filling you to the brim made you tighten around him.

He went faster, his thrusts getting harder and battering your cervix, his restraint slipping from him with each time you gushed more slick around him, pulling him into your tight pussy. „Who do you belong to (Y/N)?“, he growled, lost in his possessive nature and the way he dominated the soft girl underneath him. You couldn’t form a coherent sentence, but when he gave a punctured hard thrust, making you gasp, you could see he wanted an answer.

„You Cato, I belong to you“, you moaned, a shift in his hips making him hit that one spot inside of you, and you were getting lost in your pleasure. „Damn right you do, you’re mine“, he groaned, pulling you into a kiss, his cock never ceasing its assault of your swollen pussy, the feeling of your high approaching making you pull away from the kiss with a whine.

„Cum for me love“, he basically ordered you too, and his deep voice awoke some primal instinct inside of you. His fingers started circling your clit roughly, and you were pulled over the edge, chanting his name and squeezing his hard cock like a vice. He fucked you through your orgasm, and when you came down, he picked up his pace one more time, making you twitch around him slightly, reaching his high with a moan.

He buried himself as deep inside of you as you would take him, his balls tightening and he was spilling his cum deep into your perfect pussy. With one final rut, he stilled and just layed on top of your fucked out form for a few moments - careful not to put his whole weight on you. Both your breathing slowed eventually, Cato turning the both of you around so you were laying on top of him comfortably (his dick never slipping out) and covering both of you with the part of the blanket you weren’t laying on.

„You okay?“, he asked quietly, and you hummed happily. „Better than okay“, you giggled slightly, making him smile. „Good“, he kissed the top of your head, your hair softly falling over his right shoulder and the both of you admiring the skyline, basking in the presence of the other. „Promise me you will run to me tomorrow, I’ll do anything to keep you safe (Y/N), but I need you to run towards me baby“, his arms squeezed your waist tightly, as if afraid you would disappear right now.

„I promise“, you just said, knowing it wouldn’t do anything good to argue about the possibilities of you dying on the way to him. You just wanted to enjoy the moment right now. He seemed to relax underneath you, one of his large hand cupping your cheek and stroking your jaw softly. You kissed him gently, trying to ingrain the feeling of his lips into your brain. No matter what happened now, you would always have his love and he yours.

————————

I recently rewatched the hunger games and was fully back in my obsession with Cato, so here you go! Would really appreciate some feedback, or opinions if there should be a part 2?

[theambitiouswoman]

Hormone disrupters are chemicals 🧪 that interfere with your body’s endocrine system, which regulates hormones. They can be found in a lot of every day products like:

Plastic bottles and food containers

Pesticides in agriculture

Cleaning supplies

Chemicals used for clothing

Personal care products like lotions, shampoos & makeup

❌ These are hormone disrupters found in common every day products that you should stay away from ❌

- Bisphenol A (BPA) (plastics and can liners)

- Phthalates (personal care products, fragrances, flexible plastics)

- Parabens (makeup & personal care products)

- Triclosan (antibacterial soaps and cleaning products)

- Polychlorinated Biphenyls (older electrical equipment and industrial products)

- Flame Retardants (furniture, textiles, electronics)

- Pesticides (agriculture)

- Perfluorinated Chemicals (stain resistant treatments, non-stick cookware)

- Dioxins (industrial processes, combustion byproducts)

- Lead (older paints, pipes)

- Dye chemicals (textiles and clothing)

- Water repellents (outdoor clothing, upholstery)

- Stain repellents (carpets, fabrics)

- Formaldehyde (wrinkle free and anti-shrink treatments for fabric)

- Mercury (fish, some thermometers, dental amalgams)

- Cadmium (batteries, some fertilizers)

- Atrazine (herbicides)

- Glyphosate (weed killers)

- Perchlorate (rocket fuel, fireworks, fertilizers)

- Arsenic (contaminated water, pesticides)

- Styrene (plastics, rubber, insulation materials)

- Phosphates (detergents, fertilizers)

- Nonylphenol ethoxylates (industrial detergents, cleaners)

- Organotins (PVC plastics, marine antifouling paints)

- Benzophenone (sunscreens, plastics)

- Octinoxate (sunscreens, makeup)

- 4 Methylbenzylidene camphor (sunscreens, makeup)

‼️ Exposure to these can lead to health issues like reproductive problems, developmental issues and cancer.

🌿 Needless to say, that in order to protect our hormones 🫶 it’s important to recognize these risks and take measures to reduce our exposure them.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Brian Merchant’s “Blood In the Machine”

Tomorrow (September 27), I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine. On October 2, I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab.

In Blood In the Machine, Brian Merchant delivers the definitive history of the Luddites, and the clearest analysis of the automator's playbook, where "entrepreneurs'" lawless extraction from workers is called "innovation" and "inevitable":

https://www.littlebrown.com/titles/brian-merchant/blood-in-the-machine/9780316487740/

History is written by the winners, and so you probably think of the Luddites as brainless, terrified, thick-fingered vandals who smashed machines and burned factories because they didn't understand them. Today, "Luddite" is a slur that means "technophobe" – but that's neither fair, nor accurate.

Luddism has been steadily creeping into pro-labor technological criticism, as workers and technology critics reclaim the term and its history, which is a rich and powerful tale of greed versus solidarity, slavery versus freedom.

The true tale of the Luddites starts with workers demanding that the laws be upheld. When factory owners began to buy automation systems for textile production, they did so in violation of laws that required collaboration with existing craft guilds – laws designed to ensure that automation was phased in gradually, with accommodations for displaced workers. These laws also protected the public, with the guilds evaluating the quality of cloth produced on the machine, acting as a proxy for buyers who might otherwise be tricked into buying inferior goods.

Factory owners flouted these laws. Though the machines made cloth that was less durable and of inferior weave, they sold it to consumers as though it were as good as the guild-made textiles. Factory owners made quiet deals with orphanages to send them very young children who were enslaved to work in their factories, where they were routinely maimed and killed by the new machines. Children who balked at the long hours or attempted escape were viciously beaten (the memoir of one former child slave became a bestseller and inspired Oliver Twist).

The craft guilds begged Parliament to act. They sent delegations, wrote petitions, even got Members of Parliament to draft legislation ordering enforcement of existing laws. Instead, Parliament passed laws criminalizing labor organizing.

The stakes were high. Economic malaise and war had driven up the price of life's essentials. Workers displaced by illegal machines faced starvation – as did their children. Communities were shattered. Workers who had apprenticed for years found themselves graduating into a market that had no jobs for them.

This is the context in which the Luddite uprisings began. Secret cells of workers, working with discipline and tight organization, warned factory owners to uphold the law. They sent letters and posted handbills in which they styled themselves as the army of "King Ludd" or "General Ludd" – Ned Ludd being a mythical figure who had fought back against an abusive boss.

When factory owners ignored these warnings, the Luddites smashed their machines, breaking into factories or intercepting machines en route from the blacksmith shops where they'd been created. They won key victories, with many factory owners backing off from automation plans, but the owners were deep-pocketed and determined.

The ruling Tories had no sympathy for the workers and no interest in upholding the law or punishing the factory owners for violating it. Instead, they dispatched troops to the factory towns, escalating the use of force until England's industrial centers were occupied by literal armies of soldiers. Soldiers who balked at turning their guns on Luddites were publicly flogged to death.

I got very interested in the Luddites in late 2021, when it became clear that everything I thought I knew about the Luddites was wrong. The Luddites weren't anti-technology – rather, they were doing the same thing a science fiction writer does: asking not just what a new technology does, but also who it does it for and who it does it to:

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

Unsurprisingly, ever since I started publishing on this subject, I've run into people who have no sympathy for the Luddite cause and who slide into my replies to replicate the 19th Century automation debate. One such person accused the Luddites of using "state violence" to suppress progress.

You couldn't ask for a more perfect example of how the history of the Luddites has been forgotten and replaced with a deliberately misleading account. The "state violence" of the Luddite uprising was entirely on one side. Parliament, under the lackadaisical leadership of "Mad King George," imposed the death penalty on the Luddites. It wasn't just machine-breaking that became a capital crime – "oath taking" (swearing loyalty to the Luddites) also carried the death penalties.

As the Luddites fought on against increasingly well-armed factory owners (one owner bought a cannon to use on workers who threatened his machines), they were subjected to spectacular acts of true state violence. Occupying soldiers rounded up Luddites and suspected Luddites and staged public mass executions, hanging them by the dozen, creating scores widows and fatherless children.

The sf writer Steven Brust says that the test to tell whether someone is on the right or the left is simple: ask whether property rights are more important than human rights. If the person says "property rights are human rights," they are on the right.

The state response to the Luddites crisply illustrates this distinction. The Luddites wanted an orderly and lawful transition to automation, one that brought workers along and created shared prosperity and quality goods. The craft guilds took pride in their products, and saw themselves as guardians of their industry. They were accustomed to enjoying a high degree of bargaining power and autonomy, working from small craft workshops in their homes, which allowed them to set their own work pace, eat with their families, and enjoy modest amounts of leisure.

The factory owners' cause wasn't just increased production – it was increased power. They wanted a workforce that would dance to their tune, work longer hours for less pay. They wanted unilateral control over which products they made and what corners they cut in making those products. They wanted to enrich themselves, even if that meant that thousands starved and their factory floors ran red with the blood of dismembered children.

The Luddites destroyed machines. The factory owners killed Luddites, shooting them at the factory gates, or rounding them up for mass executions. Parliament deputized owners to act as extensions of law enforcement, allowing them to drag suspected Luddites to their own private cells for questioning.

The Luddites viewed property rights as just one instrument for achieving human rights – freedom from hunger and cold – and when property rights conflicted with human rights, they didn't hesitate to smash the machines. For them, human rights trumped property rights.

Their bosses – and their bosses' modern defenders – saw the demands to uphold the laws on automation as demands to bring "state violence" to bear on the wholly private matter of how a rich man should organize his business. On the other hand, literal killing – both on the factory floor and at the gallows – was not "state violence" but rather, a defense of the most important of all the human rights: the rights of property owners.

19th century textile factories were the original Big Tech, and the rhetoric of the factory owners echoes down the ages. When tech barons like Peter Thiel say that "freedom is incompatible with democracy," he means that letting people who work for a living vote will eventually lead to limitations on people who own things for a living, like him.

Then, as now, resistance to Big Tech enjoyed widespread support. The Luddites couldn't have organized in their thousands if their neighbors didn't have their backs. Shelley and Byron wrote widely reproduced paeans to worker uprisings (Byron also defended the Luddites in the House of Lords). The Brontes wrote Luddite novels. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein was a Luddite novel, in which the monster was a sensitive, intelligent creature who merely demanded a say in the technology that created him.

The erasure of the true history of the Luddites was a deliberate act. Despite the popular and elite support the Luddites enjoyed, the owners and their allies in Parliament were able to crush the uprising, using mass murder and imprisonment to force workers to accept immiseration.

The entire supply chain of the textile revolution was soaked in blood. Merchant devotes multiple chapters to the lives of African slaves in America who produced the cotton that the machines in England wove into cloth. Then – as now – automation served to obscure the violence latent in production of finished goods.

But, as Merchant writes, the Luddites didn't lose outright. Historians who study the uprisings record that the places where the Luddites fought most fiercely were the places where automation came most slowly and workers enjoyed the longest shared prosperity.

The motto of Magpie Killjoy's seminal Steampunk Magazine was: "Love the machine, hate the factory." The workers of the Luddite uprising were skilled technologists themselves.

They performed highly technical tasks to produce extremely high-quality goods. They served in craft workshops and controlled their own time.

The factory increased production, but at the cost of autonomy. Factories and their progeny, like assembly lines, made it possible to make more goods (even goods that eventually rose the quality of the craft goods they replaced), but at the cost of human autonomy. Taylorism and other efficiency cults ended up scripting the motions of workers down to the fingertips, and workers were and are subject to increasing surveillance and discipline from their bosses if they deviate. Take too many pee breaks at the Amazon warehouse and you will be marked down for "time off-task."

Steampunk is a dream of craft production at factory scale: in steampunk fantasies, the worker is a solitary genius who can produce high-tech finished goods in their own laboratory. Steampunk has no "dark, satanic mills," no blood in the factory. It's no coincidence that steampunk gained popularity at the same time as the maker movement, in which individual workers use form digital communities. Makers networked together to provide advice and support in craft projects that turn out the kind of technologically sophisticated goods that we associate with vast, heavily-capitalized assembly lines.

But workers are losing autonomy, not gaining it. The steampunk dream is of a world where we get the benefits of factory production with the life of a craft producer. The gig economy has delivered its opposite: craft workers – Uber drivers, casualized doctors and dog-walkers – who are as surveilled and controlled as factory workers.

Gig workers are dispatched by apps, their faces closely studied by cameras for unauthorized eye-movements, their pay changed from moment to moment by an algorithm that docks them for any infraction. They are "reverse centaurs": workers fused to machines where the machine provides the intelligence and the human does its bidding:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/17/reverse-centaur/#reverse-centaur

Craft workers in home workshops are told that they're their own bosses, but in reality they are constantly monitored by bossware that watches out of their computers' cameras and listens through its mic. They have to pay for the privilege of working for their bosses, and pay to quit. If their children make so much as a peep, they can lose their jobs. They don't work from home – they live at work:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/22/paperback-writer/#toothless

Merchant is a master storyteller and a dedicated researcher. The story he weaves in Blood In the Machine is as gripping as any Propublica deep-dive into the miserable working conditions of today's gig economy. Drawing on primary sources and scholarship, Blood is a kind of Nomadland for Luddites.

Today, Merchant is the technology critic for the LA Times. The final chapters of Blood brings the Luddites into the present day, finding parallels in the labor organizing of the Amazon warehouse workers led by Chris Smalls. The liberal reformers who offered patronizing support to the Luddites – but didn't imagine that they could be masters of their own destiny – are echoed in the rhetoric of Andrew Yang.

And of course, the factory owners' rhetoric is easily transposed to the modern tech baron. Then, as now, we're told that all automation is "progress," that regulatory evasion (Uber's unlicensed taxis, Airbnb's unlicensed hotel rooms, Ring's unregulated surveillance, Tesla's unregulated autopilot) is "innovation." Most of all, we're told that every one of these innovations must exist, that there is no way to stop it, because technology is an autonomous force that is independent of human agency. "There is no alternative" – the rallying cry of Margaret Thatcher – has become our inevitablist catechism.

Squeezing the workers' wages conditions and weakening workers' bargaining power isn't "innovation." It's an old, old story, as old as the factory owners who replaced skilled workers with terrified orphans, sending out for more when a child fell into a machine. Then, as now, this was called "job creation."

Then, as now, there was no way to progress as a worker: no matter how skilled and diligent an Uber driver is, they can't buy their medallion and truly become their own boss, getting a say in their working conditions. They certainly can't hope to rise from a blue-collar job on the streets to a white-collar job in the Uber offices.

Then, as now, a worker was hired by the day, not by the year, and might find themselves with no work the next day, depending on the whim of a factory owner or an algorithm.

As Merchant writes: robots aren't coming for your job; bosses are. The dream of a "dark factory," a "fully automated" Tesla production line, is the dream of a boss who doesn't have to answer to workers, who can press a button and manifest their will, without negotiating with mere workers. The point isn't just to reduce the wage-bill for a finished good – it's to reduce the "friction" of having to care about others and take their needs into account.

Luddites are not – and have never been – anti-technology. Rather, they are pro-human, and see production as a means to an end: broadly shared prosperity. The automation project says it's about replacing humans with machines, but over and over again – in machine learning, in "contactless" delivery, in on-demand workforces – the goal is to turn humans into machines.

There is blood in the machine, Merchant tells us, whether its humans being torn apart by a machine, or humans being transformed into machines.

Brian and I are having a joint book-launch tomorrow night (Sept 27) at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/the-internet-con-by-cory-doctorow-blood-in-the-machine-by-brian-merchant-tickets-696349940417

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/26/enochs-hammer/#thats-fronkonsteen

[arkipelagic]

Asian slaves, indigenous Americans, and identity in colonial era Mexico

The Spanish Philippines had a diverse slave population for local labor and export, including Filipino Indians [i.e. natives; indios], Muslim war captives (moros), and foreign slaves from as far away as Portuguese India.

… Upon their arrival, chino slaves [i.e. any Asian slave, not just Chinese] were absorbed by the urban economy of Mexico City, where they mainly worked as domestic servants or in textile mills (obrajes) … For their part, working in the city provided chinos with some possibilities for manumission. Chinos in domestic service were especially apt to embrace the limited opportunities available to them and to experience some social mobility. In the obrajes, chinos had few of the freedoms given to domestic servants, but they did benefit from government oversight of the industry. During official visits, chino slaves appealed for protection from overt exploitation by claiming that they were Indians (even if they were from Portuguese India). Remarkably, visiting inspectors listened to their complaints, and they often responded by liberating individual chinos under the assumption that they were indeed native vassals and could thus not be held in bondage. The overall experience of chinos in the viceroyal capital confirms the benefits of living close to the center of colonial power.

The presence of free indigenous immigrants from the Spanish Philippines in Mexico reinforced the idea that all chinos were Indians. The complex governing structure of colonial Mexico involved two republics or political communities (the república de indios and the república de españoles); this organization separated the indigenous majority from everyone else to facilitate the collection of tribute and the ministry of the Catholic Church … [N]ative immigrants from the Philippines purposely sought to confirm their membership in the Republic because corporate status provided personal advantages. They asked to be tallied in tribute rolls in Mexico to benefit from concomitant privileges, such as trading rights and legal representation through the General Indian Court. At the same time, free Filipinos were frequently confused with chino slaves - a situation that had serious consequences for Filipinos' relations with colonial institutions and enslaved individuals. Some immigrants resented having their indigenous identity questioned and sought to maintain a sense of their Indian-ness by keeping their distance from chino slaves. The majority, however, expressed solidarity with chino slaves. Filipino artisans, for example, took on chino slaves as apprentices and taught them marketable skills. Similarly, Filipino traders incorporated chinos into their own credit networks to facilitate self-purchase.

Individual chinos who were manumitted also embraced an Indian identity, regardless of whether they were from Goa, Macau, or other places in South and Southeast Asia. In this way, chinos challenged official attempts to define them solely as former slaves. Instead, they sought to join the free republic. The possibility for this kind of social integration caused widespread concern among slave owners. To defend their property rights, masters started to brand chino slaves on the face, rather than on the chest or arm as they did with Africans, in order to dissuade them from fleeing and "passing" as free Indians. This horrifying development shows that Indian communities welcomed runaway chino slaves and, by extension, that slave owners sought visible markers of their slaves' status.

Excerpt from the Introduction to “Asian Slaves in Colonial Mexico: From Chinos to Indians” (2014) by Tatiana Seijas

[vote-democrat-president-congress]

Erin Brockovich: What’s at Stake in November

July 30, 2024

By Erin Brockovich

Ms. Brockovich is an environmental activist.

Every day, I get emails from people asking for help. They think I’m a lawyer. I’m not. They want to know what caused their cancer or why their farm has tested high for chemicals they’ve never heard of. They want someone to fight for them.

The recent Supreme Court decision overturning the 40-year-old Chevron precedent, which allowed federal agencies to interpret the laws they oversee, should wake us up to how truly alone we are when it comes to environmental health protections. If Donald Trump wins in November, things could go from bad to worse. Progress to protect Americans from dangerous chemicals could reach a standstill.

I could list dozens, if not thousands, of contaminants we come in contact with, some regulated by federal and state agencies, and others not. I’ll focus on per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, or PFAS, a class of thousands of synthetic chemicals that are finally being recognized for the damage they cause.

PFAS are known as “forever chemicals” because they persist in the environment and in human bodies for decades. These chemicals have been used to make common items from textiles to adhesives to food packaging to firefighting foams to nonstick cookware.

The health problems associated with exposure to PFAS include fertility issues, developmental delays in children and increased risk of certain cancers and of obesity, according to the Environmental Protection Agency. Scientists have detected PFAS chemicals in the blood of almost all Americans.

Sign up for the Opinion Today newsletter Get expert analysis of the news and a guide to the big ideas shaping the world every weekday morning. Get it sent to your inbox. What’s frustrating is that we’ve known for decades which industries use these chemicals, and we’ve known they are accumulating in the environment. But companies and our regulators delayed action.

Take just one example. From the 1950s through the 1970s, 3M dumped its PFAS waste into pits around Minnesota’s eastern Twin Cities metro area. That led to a more than 150-square-mile plume of contaminated groundwater. Subsequent testing revealed that by 2004, more than 140,000 Minnesotans had tainted drinking water. Years later, a young woman named Amara Strande grew up near the plume.

In 2023, Ms. Strande testified in front of Minnesota lawmakers in support of legislation that would restrict PFAS, which she believed caused her rare form of liver cancer. She died weeks before legislation known as Amara’s Law banned the use of PFAS in Minnesota. She was 20 years old. There are more cases like hers.

The number of U.S. communities reportedly contaminated with PFAS compounds continues to grow. Last year, one or more types of PFAS were detected in almost half of the nation’s tap water.

People like to talk about the risks of federal oversight and regulations. But without those basic guardrails in place, large companies get to do whatever they want, and hard-working Americans get sick.

Some much needed action was taken on PFAS at the national level recently. In April, the E.P.A. mandated that municipal water systems remove six PFAS chemicals from tap water. Such efforts are now at risk.

Under the Supreme Court’s recent Chevron ruling, federal judges get the final say on how laws including the Clean Water Act and the Safe Drinking Water Act should be applied. This weakens the ability of regulatory agencies to do their jobs protecting the public’s health from problems such as PFAS. Future pollution cases could meander through the federal court system for years while drinking water remains contaminated.

Companies will take advantage of this ruling. Water utility and chemical manufacturing companies have filed challenges with the E.P.A., calling the rule “arbitrary, capricious, and an abuse of discretion.”

Now imagine you take these kneecapped regulations and pair them with a second Trump presidency. President Trump rolled back decades of clean-water protections and dozens of environmental rules. The E.P.A. is still reeling from the exodus of more than 1,200 scientists and policy experts during his administration. One of his political appointees meddled with a PFAS assessment, weakening the toxicity value of a chemical.

The E.P.A. already had its problems, but the agency fared even worse under Mr. Trump. He repeatedly tried to slash the E.P.A.’s budget and many staff members fled, meaning fewer inspectors, fewer resources to study the impact of toxins and more companies contravening environmental regulations.

I recently reviewed Project 2025, a playbook for the first 180 days of the potential next Trump administration. (Mr. Trump says he doesn’t support the project, though many of his former White House employees are involved.) In the E.P.A. chapter, PFAS are mentioned twice. Project 2025 says the administration should revise groundwater cleanup regulations and policies to reflect the challenges of contaminants such as PFAS, which seems fair. But then it also says the administration should revisit the E.P.A. designation of PFAS chemicals as “hazardous substances” under the Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation, and Liability Act (CERCLA), also known as Superfund. That seems contradictory and ill advised. The designation helps make available CERCLA’s enforcement tools and cost recovery, ensuring that the polluters, not taxpayers, fund or conduct investigations and cleanup.

I’m not giving Democratic administrations a pass. We need more accountability for the environmental ills that have passed under their watch. These include the water crisis in Flint, Mich., and Jackson, Miss. The state and federal responses to the toxic train derailment in East Palestine, Ohio, left much to be desired. We must expect more from those we put in office; our lives depend on it.

The E.P.A. used to have bipartisan support. The Reagan administration changed that when President Ronald Reagan appointed a corporation-friendly E.P.A. administrator who railed against government regulation.

Rules are effective only if they can be enforced. State and federal agencies have done a poor job of building meaningful enforcement into the well-intentioned regulations that have been enacted, and they must do better. Americans’ health is at risk.

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/07/30/opinion/erin-brockovich-pfas.html

[archiveikemen]

『 Dark If 』 Story Event: Chapter 1

Jude Jazza

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Prologue

-

Victor: May you have a happy ending, Miss Kate. — Into the twisted fairytale world you go.

…

I woke up in a bedroom inside a lavish palace.

(Erm… right, I’m the “Princess” of this country.)

(... Huh? Why do I know that?)

Memories of being raised as a Princess of this country slowly came to mind.

(It seems that I have two sets of memories. One from my original world, and one from this world.)

But there was a strange feeling of certainty that both of them belonged to “me”.

King: … Are you awake, Kate?

Kate: Good morning, Father.

After knocking on my door , my father entered my bedroom wearing a worried expression.

King: Knowing that the wicked fairy’s prophecy is only a few months away… I can’t be at peace without personally confirming your safety every morning.

I was born as the Princess of this country, and spent my life living a sheltered life in confinement within the palace.

The reason for that was that… I was cursed.

The wicked fairy who placed the curse on me said, “10 years from now, the curse will take effect when she pricks her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel”.

— That fairy apparently returned to a castle hidden deep in the woods after making that prophecy.

My parents gathered every spinning wheel in the country and destroyed them. Everyone working in the textile industry was made to work in factories, and I wasn't allowed anywhere near them.

(But… neither my father nor my mother knew why I was cursed.)

Kate: Why doesn't anyone know the reason why I was cursed…?

King: … That night, you had a quarrel with me and ran away from the palace. You then lost your consciousness and collapsed in an alley.

King: By the time you were brought back to the palace and seen by the royal doctor, you were already cursed.

King: At that time, the wicked fairy who was with you admitted to cursing you…!

(Ah… so that’s what happened. But I have no memories of the events that led to me collapsing in the alley.)

(I should have seen that person back then… why can’t I recall anything?)

Perhaps it was due to my vivid memories of living in this world, or that I came into this world from England; but I found it hard to comprehend.)

(Oh well, there’s no point in thinking about that now.)

Kate: If the curse takes effect, I’ll fall into a deep slumber for 100 years… right?

I muttered based on my memories, and my father nodded with tearful eyes.

(A cursed spindle… the world I’m in is definitely that of the story “Sleeping Beauty”.)

(If we go along with the original plot, it’d probably be better to fall into a deep sleep because of the curse, but…)

The man who introduced himself as Victor said that there was “something missing” in this twisted fairytale world.

If I fall asleep before I find what’s missing — I won’t be able to look for it for the next 100 years.

(First things first, I need to break this curse to give myself more time to find it!)

Kate: I’m going to try asking that fairy to lift the curse.

King: W-WHAT!? You absolutely cannot do that!!

Kate: I’ll be fine with a few guards to escort me.

King: Even the royal guards fear him! I’ve sent people to assassinate him several times, and all of them returned in terrible states…!

Kate: In that case, I’ll go alone. With my experience as a postwoman, I can smell danger when it approaches.

King: Postwoman? H-Hey, wait��!

…

Leaving my panicking father in the castle, I came to an old castle hidden deep in the mountains.

(Come to think of it… the me in this world has never tried doing it this way before.)

(I was always sheltered and protected by my father.)

(For some reason… I never found the curse itself frightening.)

Strangely, I didn't think that sleeping for 100 years was a bad thing, and I never desperately tried to break the curse.

(I wonder why—)

…

(Is this… the place…?)

The castle was shrouded in thorny vines and had no gatekeeper, there were no signs of anyone’s presence.

Suppressing the feeling of fear that had risen due to the atmosphere of a villain’s stronghold, I cautiously poked my head inside and looked around.

Kate: P-Pardon me. I’m… not here to deliver mail. I’m here to have my curse lifted—...

Tall Young Man: … Good evening.

Kate: AAAAH!?

Tall Young Man: Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you… are you alright?

Ellis (The Thorn): I’m Ellis, the assistant to the master of this castle.

Ellis: I was ordered to deter all visitors, like the thorns of the vines outside.

(I went through the trouble of coming all the way to this place, no way I’m letting myself be turned away so easily…)

Kate: I’m Kate. I came all this way to meet the master of this castle.

Ellis: Hmm… okay.

Kate: Huh!? Is it really okay!?

Ellis: Mm-hmm. Because you came all the way here and that’ll make you happy.

(He says it’s okay… I’m kind of concerned about the security of this castle…)

Ellis: Oh, but he hates having uninvited guests over. Be careful.

…

Ellis: Jude, you have a guest.

Jude (The Fairy): Tch… I told you to turn away all uninvited guests. How many times do I have to repeat myself?

Jude: Make them leave, even if you have to hurt them—

Jude: —...!

The man addressed as “Jude” had a sinister look in his eyes. He looked up from the book he was reading, and his eyes widened the moment he saw me.

Jude: You…

(He knows who I am…? That means he’s the one.)

Kate: You’re the one who cursed me, aren't you?

Kate: I apologise for the sudden intrusion, but I’m here to speak to you in regards to lifting the curse.

Jude: … Ah?

Jude’s face contorted in response to my words.

The blatant expression of displeasure made me flinch, but I wasn’t about to back down.

Kate: If you won't lift the curse, then extend the timeframe at the very least!

Kate: You can curse me again once I’ve found what I’m looking for.

Jude: …

Kate: I’ll do anything for you to even just give me more time.

Jude: … Anything, you say?

Jude: Since you say that, I’ll make you work here as a servant.

(S-Servant…!?)

His cold smile sent a chill down my spine.

Jude stood up from the sofa and walked up to me, making my entire body stiffen in anxiousness.

Jude: Just so happens that I was planning to prick you myself with a spindle on your next birthday.

Jude: This saves me the trouble of going out to find you.

Kate: … [scared]

Sensing danger as he reached his hand towards me, I instinctively backed away; only to realise that Ellis was standing right behind me, leaving me no way to escape.

Kate: My father will most definitely not stay quiet about this…!

Jude: Hah, it doesn't matter how many useless soldiers that useless King sends. I’ll torture all of them to their deaths.

Kate: …!?

His long fingers wrapped around my neck; he pulled out a collar from who knows where and put it on me.

Jude: Now I can blow your head off whenever I want.

Jude: From the moment you came here, it was already too late, Princess.

Jude: You won’t be returning to the castle. You’ll stay here and obediently suffer from your curse.

(I—)

(This might’ve been the wrong decision.)

There was no use in regretting my decision, and so I remained captive in his castle for several days—.

As much as I didn’t want it to, life in this castle eventually felt ordinary.

…

— Clang!

Kate: Again…!?

Ellis: Yeah. Sorry, Kate.

Jude: A freeloading servant has no right to complain.

Someone who had a grudge against Jude showed up at the castle — this was no new occurrence for Jude and Ellis.

(Even though they would be struck by lightning, blown away, or killed instantly with just a single glance from Jude…)

Fallen Man: Ugh…

Jude: Why so quiet? What happened to all that audacity you had when you barged in?

Not a single day went by in this castle without a blood bath.

And as the “servant”, it was my job to clean up after them — that wasn't something I chose for myself, but I was always told to stay in my room.

Kate: I’ve been wondering… why do so many people have something against you?

Ellis: As a fairy, Jude naturally becomes a target for assassins.

Jude: You’re the Princess of this country, and yet you don’t even know that. Your life must've been truly sheltered.

Jude scoffed.

Kate: Don’t you think it could also be because of your personality? You treat people harshly, giving them a hard time.

Jude: You have some nerve, lecturing your master.

Jude: I’m always free to punish you if that’s what you want, though?

Jude hooked his finger under the collar around my neck and pulled me closer to him.

Looking into those sadistic amethyst eyes from such a close distance made me strangely uneasy, like I couldn't maintain my composure.

Kate: … N-No, thank you!

I smacked his hand away and headed straight back to my room.

(I need to stand up to that man and make him extend the curse.)

More than that — it was infuriating to constantly be looked down on by him.

…

This castle had a huge collection of books.

During the day, Jude would get involved in violent fights, and somehow get his hands on all sorts of books and materials through making deals with shady merchants.

At night, Jude would shut himself in his study.

Kate: Just what on earth does Jude always do in his study?

Ellis: I don’t know the exact details, because even I’m not allowed to go in there… but I do know that he’s researching something to fulfil a promise he made a long time ago.

Kate: I see… so you’re not allowed in his study, huh.

Ellis: Yeah. But he didn't specifically say that you’re not allowed in there, so I think it’s okay if you do as you please.

[bantarleton]

Who Were the "Hessians"?

A good article from Facebook by Dr Alex Burns;

Myth 1): German troops were all Hessians.

Although most came from the mid-sized German state of Hessen-Kassel, troops from six different principalities (Hessen-Kassel, Braunschweig-Wolfenbüttel, Hessen-Hanau, Ansbach-Bayreuth, Waldeck, and Anhalt-Zerbst.) Indeed, the current leading progressive reenactment group portraying these soldiers represents Regiment Prinz Friedrich, essentially a garrison unit from Braunschweig-Wolfenbüttel.

If you include the larger, global war outside America, fought in places like Gibraltar and India, troops from the state of Hanover (Braunschweig-Lüneburg) also fought for the British outside of the Holy Roman Empire (the pre-German territorial entity.) So, while over 60% of these troops came from Hessen, they really hailed from all over the western and central Holy Roman Empire. As a result, it might be better to call them something other than Hessians. "Germanic" has been put forward, but that usually conjures up images of the fall of the Western Roman Empire.

Myth 2): They were mercenaries.

Imagine you are a soldier in the United States Army, serving in West Germany during the Cold War. You are stationed there because of longstanding agreements and alliances, which stretch back decades. The United States Government and the West German government have a financial understanding that helps maintain your presence in the region. Are you a mercenary? The situation was very similar for the German-speaking soldiers who fought in the American War of Independence, They had a longstanding relationship with Great Britain, stretching back decades. They had fought with alongside the British since the 1690s, both in continental Europe and in the British isles. As a result of the Hanoverian succession in 1714 (the British Royal family was drawn from Hanover) they had longstanding marriage connections with Great Britain. Horace Walpole, a British politician from the 1730s, referred to the Hessians as the Triarii of Great Britain.

These soldiers did not personally or corporately take on contracts from the British. they were members of state militaries: their governments were paid a subsidy by the British in order to fight in their wars. Frederick II (the Great) of Prussia, received subsidies from the British during the Seven Years War. As a result, the modern German term for these troops is *Subsidientruppen, *or subsidy troops. **Thus, it might be better to speak of the German-speaking subsidy troops, as opposed to calling them Hessians, or mercenaries. **Historians have argued that it might be fitting to call their countries "mercenary states". This is different from saying they were mercenaries.

Myth 3): They were sold to America because their princes were greedy and wanted to build palaces and pay for their illegitimate children.

The princes of the Western Holy Roman Empire lived in an incredibly dangerous world during the eighteenth century. Their territories were small, rural, principalities, trapped between the military giants of France, Austria, and Prussia. As a result, from the 1670s, these princes attempted to use subsidy contracts to build themselves larger armies, in order to preserve their independence. These subsidy contracts were a standard feature of European politics, diplomacy, and conflict resolution. They allowed the princes to better protect their small domains. None of the princes who formed subsidy contracts with Britain during the American War of Independence were doing something radically new or greedy. Instead, they were following on decades of practice which had allowed them to maintain their own independence. The Hessian (Hessen-Kassel) Landgraf Friedrich II actually used the funds from the contract, in part, to promote economic development and the textile industry in his territories. **Some of them had illegitimate children. Some had palaces. Portraying them as sex-crazed misers limits our understanding of the economic and security necessities which actually underpinned their subsidy policies. **Following the long-standing practices of their governments, princes in the Western Holy Roman Empire entered subsidy agreements to maintain the costs of their states.

Myth 4): They committed many brutal war-crimes in America.

The subsidy troops had been used in messy civil conflicts before. Hessian troops were used against the Jacobites in 1745-6, where they remarkably refused to take part in the repression against the Scottish Jacobites. Their troops were remembered in Perthshire, Scotland, as "a gentle race," and their commanding Prince (Friedrich II) declared, "My Hessians and I have been called to fight the enemies of the British crown, but never will we consent to hang or torture in its name." (Duffy, *Best of Enemies, *p. 133). English officers in the Seven Years War, noted that their troops were reprimanded for plundering more than Hessian forces. (Atwood, *The Hessians, *p. 173). In North America during the War of Independence, the Hessians once again behaved better than their British counterparts. Although there was a surge of fear about Hessian brutality early in the war, after the first few years of the war, Americans believed that the Hessians treated them better than British soldiers. Aaron Burr wrote of Hessian atrocities: "Various have been the reports concerning the barbarities committed by the Hessians, most of them [are] incredible and false." (Matthew Davis, *Memoirs of Aaron Burr, *Vol 1. p. 107). Comparing the brutality of the Napoleonic Wars with the American War of Independence, a Hessian veteran who served in both wars commented: "Everything which the author has subsequently seen in this regard greatly exceeds what one should term cruelty in America, which in comparison with more recent times, can be regarded as nothing more than a harmless puppet show." (Adam Ludwig von Ochs, *Betrachtungen Ueber die Kriegkunst, *60-61.) Hessian troops committed crimes in America, there is no doubt. What is clear is that these crimes were not excessive for an eighteenth-century conflict.

Myth 5): Many of them deserted to America, where life was better.

Many Americans claim Hessian ancestry. As a result, it is common to encounter the sentiment that these "mercenary" troops were simply waiting to switch sides. In reality, most of these troops returned to their homelands in the Holy Roman Empire. A very small number switched sides before the end of the war, a larger (but still small) percentage elected to remain in America after the war ended in 1783. Far from being an act of rebellion, the princes encouraged their subsidy troops to remain in America if they desire: this would cut costs, and make the process of slashing the military budget easier in peacetime. Most returned to celebrations, public parades, and being welcomed by loved ones. For more on exact data of desertions, as well as the subsidy-troops' return home, see Daniel Krebs' book, *A Generous and Merciful Enemy. *The majority of these troops remained loyal to their princes, and returned home to their own native lands.

Who Were the Hessians?

The experience of 37,000 soldiers mainly drawn from six small counties is not all one thing. There are elements of truth to each of the myths about the Hessians, but their story is more complex than the myths that are told about them in English-speaking circles in North America. They were drawn from a fascinating world in Central Europe with its own customs, practices, and traditions. They entered the American story, and as a result, it is worth taking the time to understand and remember their path in it in a complex way.

A "Hessian" Reading List:

Rodney Atwood: "The Hessians: Mercenaries from Hessen-Kassel in the American Revolution"

Friedrike Baer: "Hessians: German Soldiers in the American Revolutionary War"

Stephan Huck: "Soldaten gegen Nordamerika Lebenswelten Braunschweiger Subsidientruppen im amerikanischen Unabhängigkeitskrieg"

Charles Ingrao: "The Hessian Mercenary State: Ideas, Institutions, and Reform under Frederick II, 1760–1785"

Daniel Krebs: "A Generous and Merciful Enemy: Life for German Prisoners of War during the American Revolution"

[whencyclopedia]

The Impact of the British Industrial Revolution

The consequences of the British Industrial Revolution (1760-1840) were many, varied, and long-lasting. Working life in rural and urban settings was changed forever by the inventions of new machines, the spread of factories, and the decline of traditional occupations. Developments in transportation and communications meant life in the post-industrial world was more exciting and faster, with people more connected than ever before. Consumer goods became more affordable to more people, and there were more jobs for a booming population. The price to pay for progress was often a working life that was noisy, repetitive, and dangerous, while cities grew to become overcrowded, polluted, and crime-ridden.

The impact of the Industrial Revolution included:

Many new machines were invented that could do things much faster than previously or could perform entirely new tasks.

Steam power was cheaper, more reliable, and faster than more traditional power sources.

Large factories were established, creating jobs and a boom in cotton textile production, in particular.

Large engineering projects became possible like iron bridges and viaducts.

Traditional industries like hand weaving and businesses connected to stagecoaches went into terminal decline.

The cost of food and consumer goods was reduced as items were mass-produced and transportation costs decreased.

Better tools became available for manufacturers and farmers.

The coal, iron, and steel industries boomed to provide fuel and raw materials for machines to work.

The canal system was expanded but then declined.

Urbanisation accelerated as labour became concentrated around factories in towns and cities.

Cheap train travel became a possibility for all.

Demand for skilled labour, especially in textiles, decreased.

Demand for unskilled labour to operate machines and work on the railways increased.

The use of child and women labour increased.

Worker safety declined and was not reversed until the 1830s.

Trade unions were formed to protect workers' rights.

The success of mechanisation led to other countries experiencing their own industrial revolutions.

Coal Mining

Mining of tin and coal has a long history in Britain, but the arrival of the Industrial Revolution saw unprecedented activity underground to find the fuel to feed the steam-powered machines that came to dominate industry and transport. The steam-powered pump was invented to drain mines in 1712. This allowed deeper mining and so greatly increased coal production. The Watt steam engine, patented in 1769, allowed steam power to be harnessed for almost anything, and as the steam engines ran on coal, so the mining industry boomed as mechanisation swept across industries of all kinds. This phenomenon only increased with the spread of the railways from 1825 and the increase in steam-powered ships from the 1840s. Coal gas, meanwhile, was used for lighting homes and streets from 1812, and as a source of heat for private homes and cookers. Coke, that is burnt coal, was used as a fuel in the iron and steel industries, and so the demand for coal kept on growing as the Industrial Revolution rolled on.

There were four principal coal mining areas: South Wales, southern Scotland, Lancashire, and Northumberland. To get the coal to where it was needed, Britain's canal system was significantly expanded as transportation by canal was 50% cheaper than using roads. By 1830, "England and Wales had 3,876 miles in 1760" (Horn, 17). Britain produced annually just 2.5 to 3 million tons of coal in 1700, but by 1900, this figure had rocketed to 224 million tons.

Continue reading...

[prima-materia-ttrpg]

Species Highlight - Humans

What if there was a type of creature that enjoyed climbing on things? A species heavily motivated by social bonds and the need to stack rocks? What if I told you this fantasy species exists in Prima Materia? Perhaps you would be surprised that such an interesting and cool species is in the game. Without further ado- here's humans.

Humans on Patek, like humans on Earth, have developed many different groups and cultures over the thousands of years they've been loose. Of course, humans from Earth no longer exist as they died out an impossibly long time ago. Despite their different cultures and practices separated at times by ten thousand or more years of isolation, humans hold a few things in common between them. Their endurance, their ambition, and their ability to pack bond with nearly anything.

Human endurance has no equal among the sapient species of Patek. This is reflected mechanically, giving humans extra Fatigue Points and a bonus to rolls when determining Fatigue Points on level up. Their ability to pack bond with almost anything is reflected by the second unique trait humans get, "Social Creature." When a human thinks it's bonded with someone, whether that be a pet or a person, they get a bonus to protect that creature as well as a general bonus after socializing with them.

Human ambition isn't represented mechanically, but rather through world building and narrative. In particular, I like the idea of humans being uniquely driven to build large things; monuments, pyramids, palaces. They have made some of the most impressive buildings on the planet, and many groups are still trying to one-up another in this regard. In the setting's current time period, the focus is on skyscrapers.

But of course, for everything humans have in common there are a dozen ways in which they differ. And it's the differences that are the most interesting, after all.

Looking through Windows

There are many different cultures and kingdoms of men, so we'll look through the windows of a select few to see what it's like to live there, and what the people are like.

The Northmost points of Eastern Atiyeret are covered in evergreen woods, and half the time covered in snow. Summer beckons the snow to melt the other half of the year, with temperatures in some months reaching above 50F (10C). For thousands of years the people there have done what people do: live and do things. There are several groups of humans in NorthEastern Atiyeret, though they all hold commonalities between them. Many hold the same religion, many raise and ride bearzoi, and many have placed fish at the backbone of their economies. Those who come into contact with the northerners have brought tales both of lucrative trade and of bloody battle. They have a reputation for their brutal martial prowess as they ride fearsome beasts into combat. A reputation shared only by those who ride horses in the west. Most northerners organize into groups based on familial and traditional ties called tribes, where family name is important and in some cases decides what your role in society is. These groups can range from being the size of a small village, to encompassing several towns. Some tribes can get larger, and in the past that's allowed for families to take control and create dynasties.

The human kingdoms of Western Atiyeret consider themselves the pinnacle of modernity. They have railways, textile factories, and tall buildings. One kingdom in particular, the United Kingdom (named such because it was made from several kingdoms which were united under one banner), is a multicultural Cobb salad which in recent years has disrupted many job markets in the name of industrial progress. The trade capital of the country, made the political capital just ten years back, is the beating heart which sends goods by rail and canal to the rest of the empire, from which in return they are supplied with food and other necessities like producer goods and natural resources. The United Kingdom boasts the most skyscrapers in the world, and soon the first glass skyscraper if their king is to be believed.

The last stop on our tour is the savannas of the Atiyeret peninsula. Separated from Western Atiyeret by desert, and Eastern Atiyeret by mountain and steppe, the peninsula was the birthplace of humanity on Patek. In the northern portion of the peninsula, some of the oldest continually inhabited cities stand to this day. Sadhapor is one such city, once the capital of a spanning empire and a hundred things before that, it's not uncommon to see an archaeological dig when walking through the older parts of the city. Sadhapor itself is ruled by two regents who in turn swear fealty to the dual regents of Rajkhari, one of the current nations of prominence in the area. Located at the mouth of the Naronadhi river where it flows into the Khari gulf, it's a major center of trade as evidenced by its world renowned Great Bazaar, a flurry of sounds, smells, and sights of things brought from far and wide to the main street which stretches from Sadhapor's docks to the city center. Sadhapor itself warrants its own blog post.

This is just a small look at some of the more fleshed out human cultures in Prima Materia, there are many others I want to write and bring to a blog post, but this post is already long and is just meant to give you an idea of what humans are like.

Thank you for reading this far, and being patient for this one. Lots of real life stuff(tm) has been happening and it's been a whirlwind. I'm still going to try to write a blog post every week, this is simply what I want to do. Speaking of, next week will be a mechanics post; specifically on all the combat related things I've been cooking like armor, healing, and death.

Playtests are on my site here, and thank you @donutboxers for the artwork.

[pwlanier]

Alexander Vasilyevich Shevchenko (1883–1948). ^Feeders. 1920s. Pencil paper, 16.5×17 cm. @ Earlier in the meeting of A. and A. Zavolokin. ^^Painter, graphic artist, art theorist. In 1890-1898 he studied at the Kharkiv Real School. In 1899, he moved to Moscow with his family. He entered the Stroganov Art and Industrial School at the metalworking department. In 1905–1906, he took lessons at the private Academy of R. Julien in Paris at J.-P. Laurent and at the Academy of E. Career at A. Dine and F. Bring it. In 1910, he exhibited his works at the first exhibition of the "Wallet of Diamonds". In 1910-1911 he participated in the Second Salon of V.A. Izdebsky. In 1911, he exhibited at the exhibition "Donkey Tail", in 1914 - at the exhibitions "Target" and "№ 4". After the revolution, he was the head of the literary and artistic sub-department of the Board of Arts of the People's Commissariat for Contemporary Affairs, participated in the Commission for the Protection of Cultural and Antiquities under the Moscow Council. In 1919, together in A. C Grischeno organized the Museum of Pictorial Culture. Since 1920, he has been a professor of VKHUTEMAS. In 1926, he became one of the founders of the "Painters' Shop" association. In 1940-1942, he headed the Department of Painting and Drawing at the Textile Institute. Creativity is presented in the State Institute of Arts named after A.S. Pushkin, GTG, GRM.

Nikitskiy