#So why not use the resources you clearly have and offer some critique

[jasontoddsno1simp]

It is earnestly baffling to me to see the amount of people who go off on diatribes about this. Yeah, it's annoying to see it repeated all the time because That's Not What That Means^TM, but it doesn't take a lot of thought to figure out what people are trying to say.

A big part of language and linguistics is context. Sometimes people don't always have the language to perfectly describe what they're feeling. So they use something similar or coded language. It's not technically correct but we still understand the spirit of what they're saying. And even though there's room to correct people, isn't that the whole purpose?! Sure, what I'm saying isn't entirely correct but you still understood me.

At the end of the day, Tumblr - social media, in general - is not a formal academic setting. You're going to have people who are not going to be up to par on all of the lingo the same way they'd be if they were in college class. And that's fine!! As long as we can communicate what we're thinking and have people understand it, that's a win!!

I was going through the anti Jason Todd tag because I hate myself and want to understand where people who dislike him are coming from and one thing I kept seeing was annoyance at Jason fans who claim that Jason is female coded and realized that the term “female coded” might not be the best term to describe what we mean.

A female coded character in literature and media typically means a character that has no specified gender or otherwise does not have a gender but is obviously meant to be a stand in for a woman or female. Kind of like how Starfire has no specified race (due to being an alien) but is still obviously black coded based on the way she’s drawn and treated by the narrative.

This is slightly different than what we mean when saying that Jason is female coded. It’s not that Jason is literally supposed to be a stand in for a female character, it’s that the way a lot of characters treat him and a lot of the tropes used on him are things that usually saved for female characters, not big buff men like Jason.

To start with, being Robin is narratively (or at least was) very similar to being a woman in a story. Robin is a role made to complement Batman (who we all know is basically the ultimate male power fantasy). Robin’s role is to be an accessory to Batman. Robin can be smart, but not smarter than Batman. Robin can be strong, but not stronger than Batman. Hell, Robin is often kidnapped and used as a literal damsel in distress, a role often regulated for women as a whole.

What sets Jason apart from the other robins (except for Steph) in this regard is that they were allowed to be characters outside of Batman. Dick might not have been the “man” of the story when he’s with Bruce, but when he’s with the teen titans suddenly he’s the smart one who has all the answers. Jason’s Robin was never really allowed this.

Then we get to the most, controversial, part of Jason’s female coding. The fact the he was effectively fridged. Fridging is usually only referred to as frigding if it’s a female character, but Jason’s death checks pretty much all the other boxes needed. An incredibly brutal death that was more about Bruce’s feelings on it than Jason himself.

This is especially apparent when compared to the other Bat characters. For all the female coding, the only other Robin to actually be fridged was Steph (and we all know about the misogyny surrounding her death). Barbara was also kind of fridged during the killing Joke. The only female character to escape this is Cass (to my knowledge). When you look at it through this lens, the fact that the only other characters to be permanently damaged like this for Bruce’s story are female, it’s not hard to see where the idea that Jason is female coded comes from.

You can even find this in Jason’s origin story. Poor little orphan is saved by benevolent billionaire is a role usually saved for little girls, like in Annie.

Despite what you might think, this even continues after Jason’s revival. Jason is still used less as a character and more as a motivation for Bruce. He’s regularly called emotional and hysterical (terms usually used to refer to women).

Jason is first and foremost a victim. A role performed by women in most media. Men are expected to be stoic and “rise above” the things done to them as to not be victims, as continuously shown by the way characters like Nightwing are not allowed to be effected by the horrific things they go through. The fact that Jason is shown the be angry, and sad, and emotional, constantly, and the fact that he’s punished and vilified for it puts him in a place much more similar to a female character.

There’s a reason that so many Jason fans (that like him for a reason past “antihero with guns”) are female. For most characters, when you swap their genders there would be a pretty clear and big difference in the way their story takes place. If you swap Jason’s gender, the story takes place identically.

A lot of this is best shown in men’s reactions to Arkham Knight’s version of Jason. In that game, Jason is similarly angry and emotional, albeit for slightly different reasons. He is also still unmistakably a victim. You’d think the men playing would like him. After all he’s a big cool angsty guy with a lot of guns and muscles. Instead, a lot of men’s thought that he was whiny. That his feelings were annoying.

There’s also something to be said about how his autonomy is regularly undermined by Bruce (specifically in Gotham war) and how his decisions and feeling are constantly treated as if they’re worth less than Bruce’s, but that’s a discussion for another day.

[destiny-smasher]

Life is Strange: True Colors

Leading up to the release of Episode 1 of TellTale's The Walking Dead game, I was working freelance for GameRevolution at the time, lived in the area, and had the chance to play a build of the game to write a preview on it. I remember comparing it to Mass Effect because, at the time, there just...weren't games of that subgenre. Of course, by now we've seen an explosion of this type of game - the 'narrative/choice-driven game,' spearheaded and even oversaturated by Telltale to their own demise.

Out of all of the games that have come from that initial boom, Life is Strange by DontNod was and still is the most influential on my life, but I also have always harbored really conflicted feelings about it - especially with how it resolved its narrative. Hell, if you're reading this, you're probably aware that I spent a few years of my life creating a sequel fanstory which I even adapted a chunk of into visual novel format. Hundreds of thousands of words, days and days of life spent essentially trying to process and reconcile my conflicted feelings about this game's conclusion(s). Since then, I've been experimenting with interactive fiction and am currently developing my own original visual novel using everything I've learned from both creating and playing games in this genre. It's a subgenre of game I have a lot of interest and passion for because, when handled well, it can allow a player to sort of co-direct a guided narrative experience in a way that's unique compared to strictly linear cinematic experiences but still have a curated, focused sense of story.

Up until this point, I've regarded Night in the Woods as probably the singular best game of this style, with others like Oxenfree and The Wolf Among Us as other high marks. I've never actually put any Life is Strange game quite up there - none of them have reached that benchmark for me, personally. Until now, anyway.

But now, I can finally add a new game to that top tier, cream of the crop list. Life is Strange: True Colors is just damn good. I'm an incredibly critical person as it is - and that critique usually comes from a place of love - so you can imagine this series has been really hard to for me given that I love it, and yet have never truly loved any actual full entry in it. I have so many personal issues, quibbles, qualms, and frustration with Life is Strange: with every individual game, with how it has been handled by its publisher (my biggest issue at this point, actually), with how it has seemingly been taken away from its original development studio, with how it chooses to resolve its narratives...

But with True Colors, all of those issues get brushed aside long enough for me to appreciate just how fucking well designed it is for this style of game. I can appreciate how the development team, while still clearly being 'indie' compared to other dev teams working under Square-Enix, were able to make such smart decisions in how to design and execute this game. Taken on its own merits, apart from its branding, True Colors is absolutely worth playing if you enjoy these 'telltale' style games. Compared to the rest of the series, I would argue it's the best one so far, easily. I had a lot of misgivings and doubts going in, and in retrospect, those are mostly Square-Enix's fault. Deck Nine, when given the freedom to make their own original game in the same vein as the previous three, fucking nailed it as much as I feel like they could, given the kinds of limitations I presume they were working within.

I'm someone who agonizes every single time there is news for Life is Strange as a series - someone who essentially had to drop out of the fandom over infighting, then dropped out of even being exposed to the official social media channels for it later on (I specifically have the Square-Enix controlled channels muted). I adore Max and Chloe, and as a duo, as a couple, they are one of my top favorites not just in gaming, but in general. They elevated the original game to be something more than the sum of its parts for me. And while I have enjoyed seeing what DontNod has made since, it's always been their attention to detail in environmental craftsmanship, in tone and atmosphere, which has caught my interest. They're good at creating characters with layers, but imo they've never nailed a narrative arc. They've never really hit that sweet spot that makes a story truly resonate with me. Deck Nine's previous outing, Before the Storm, was all over the place, trying to mimic DontNod while trying to do its own things - trying to dig deeper into concepts DontNod deliberately left open for interpretation while also being limited in what it could do as a prequel.

But with True Colors, those awkward shackles are (mostly) off. They have told their own original story, keeping in tone and concept with previous Life is Strange games, and yet this also feels distinctly different in other ways.

Yes, protagonist Alex Chen is older than previous characters, and most of the characters in True Colors are young adults, as opposed to teenagers. Yes, she has a supernatural ability. And yes, the game is essentially a linear story with some freedom in how much to poke around at the environment and interact with objects/characters, with the primary mechanic being making choices which influence elements of how the story plays out. None of this is new to the genre, or even Life is Strange. But the execution was clearly planned out, focused, and designed with more caution and care than games like this typically get.

A smaller dev team working with a budget has to make calls on how to allocate that budget. With True Colors, you will experience much fewer locales and environments than you will in Life is Strange 2. Fewer locations than even Life is Strange 1, by my count. But this reinforces the game's theming. I suspect the biggest hit to the game's budget was investing in its voice acting (nothing new for this series) but specifically in the motion capture and facial animation.

You have a game about a protagonist trying to fit in to a small, tightly knit community. She can read the aura of people's emotions and even read their minds a little. And the game's budget and design take full advantage of this. You spend your time in a small main street/park area, a handful of indoor shops, your single room apartment. It fits within a tighter budget, but it reinforces the themes the game is going for. Your interactions with characters are heightened with subtle facial cues and microexpressions, which also reinforces the mechanic and theming regarding reading, accepting, and processing emotions. And you get to make some choices that influence elements of this - influenced by the town, influenced by the emotions of those around you, which reinforce the main plot of trying to navigate a new life in a small town community.

When I think about these types of games, the conclusion is always a big deal. In a way, it shouldn't be, because I usually feel it's about the journey, not the destination. And as an example, I actually really dislike the ending of the original Life is Strange. I think it's a lot of bullshit in many ways. The setpiece is amazing and epic, sure, but the actual storytelling going on is...really hollow for me. Yes, the game does subtly foreshadow in a number of ways that this is the big choice it's leading up to, but the game never actually makes sense of it. And the problem is, if your experience is going to end on a big ol' THIS or THAT kind of moment, it needs to make sense or the whole thing will fall apart as soon as the credits are rolling and the audience spends a moment to think about what just happened. When you look at the end of Season 1 of Telltale's The Walking Dead, it's not powerful just because of what choice you're given, but because through the entire final episode, we know the stakes - we know what is going to ultimately happen, and we know the end of the story is fast approaching. All of the cards are on the table by the time we get to that final scene, and it works so well because we know why it's happening, and it is an appropriate thematic climax that embodies the theming of the entire season. It works mechanically, narratively, and thematically, and 'just makes sense.'

The ending of Life is Strange 1 doesn't do that, if you ask me. The ending of most games in this genre don't really hit that mark. When I get to the end of most game 'seasons' like this, even ones I enjoy, I'm typically left frustrated, confused, and empty in a way.

The ending of True Colors, on the other hand, nails everything it needs to. Handily, when compared to its peers.

If you're somehow reading this and have not played this game but intend to, now is probably where you should duck out, as I will be

discussing SPOILERS from the entire game, specifically the finale.

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Firstly, since I don't know where else to put this, some criticisms I found with the game. And honestly, they're all pretty damn minor compared to most games of this type.

Mainly, I just wish the whole Typhon thing was handled a bit more deliberately. It's a bit weird to do the 'big evil corporation' thing (especially when a big corporation like Square Enix occupies as much as or even more of the credits to this game than the people who actually MADE it?) without offering more explanation and subtlety. The game certainly makes some efforts but they're mostly small and mostly optional, like background chatter or a handful of one-off bits of documentation/etc. you can find in the environment. I feel like Diane in particular needed to be fleshed out just a little bit more to really sell us on how and why things like this happen, why corporations make decisions that cost people their happiness, security, and lives and they just get to keep on doing it. I think just a little bit that is unavoidable to the player that puts emphasis on maybe how much the town relies on the money/resources Typhon provides would've helped. Again, this is minor, but it stands out when I have so little else to critique.

I would've liked to get more insight on why Jed is the way he is. No, I don't think we really needed to learn more about his backstory, or even really his motivations. I think we get enough of that. I just think it would've been great to somehow highlight more deliberately how/why he's built up this identity overtop of what he's trying to suppress. Maybe even just having Alex internally realize, "Wait, what the hell, Jed has been hiding these emotions and my powers haven't picked up on it?" or something to that effect could have added an extra oomph to highlight how Jed seems to be coping with his emotions by masking/suppressing them. Also really minor complaint, but again...there's not much else here I can think to really improve on within the confines of what's in the game.

The game doesn't really call Alex's power into question morally. Like. Max has an entire meltdown by the end of her story, second-guessing if she's even helped anyone at all, if she has 'the right' to do so, how her powers might be affecting or expressing her own humanity and flaws...this story doesn't really get into that despite a very similar concept of manipulating others. There's like one bit in a document you can choose to read in Alex's 'nightmare' scene, but that's really it. I feel like this sentiment and how it's executed could have easily been expanded upon in just this one scene to capture what made that Max/Other Max scene do what it did in a way that would address the moral grayness of Alex's powers and how she uses them, and give players a way to express their interpretation of that. Also, very small deal, just another tidbit I would've liked to see.

When I first watched my wife play through Episode 5 (I watched her play through the game first, then I played it myself), I wasn't really feeling the surreal dreamscape stuff of Alex's flashbacks - which is weird, because if you're read my work from the past few years, you'll know I usually love that sort of shit. I think what was throwing me off was that it didn't really feel like it was tying together what the game was about up until that point, and felt almost like it was just copying what Life is Strange did with Max's nightmare sequence (minus the best part of that sequence, imo, where Max literally talks to herself).

But by the time I had seen the rest of the story, and re-experienced it myself, I think it clicked better. This is primarily a story about Alex Chen trying to build a new life for herself in a new community - a small town, a tightly knit place. Those flashbacks are specifically about Alex's past, something we only get teeny tiny tidbits of, and only really if we go looking for them. I realized after I gave myself a few days to process and play through the game myself that this was still a fantastic choice because it reinforces the plot reasons why Alex is even in the town she's in (because her father went there, and her brother in turn went there looking for him), and it reinforces the theme of Alex coming to accept her own emotions and confront them (as expressed through how the flashbacks are played out and the discussions she has with the image of Gabe in her mind, which is really just...another part of herself trying to get her to process things).

By the time Alex escapes the mines and returns to the Black Lantern, all of the cards are on the table. By that point, we as the audience know everything we need to. Everything makes sense - aside from arguably why Jed has done what he has done, but put a pin in that for a sec. We may not know why Alex has the powers she does, but we have at least been given context for how they manifested - as a coping mechanism of living a life inbetween the cracks of society, an unstable youth after her family fell apart around her (and oof, trust me, I can relate with this in some degree, though not in exactly the same ways). And unlike Max's Rewind power, the story and plot doesn't put this to Alex's throat, like it's all on her to make some big choice because she is the way she is, or like she's done something wrong by pursuing what she cares about (in this case, the truth, closure, and understanding).

When Alex confronts Jed in front of all of the primary supporting characters, it does everything it needs to.

Mechanically: it gives players choices for how to express their interpretation of events, and how Alex is processing them; it also, even more importantly, uses the 'council' as a way of expressing how the other characters have reacted to the choices the player has made throughout the game, and contributes to how this climax feels. We're given a 'big choice' at the end of the interaction that doesn't actually change the plot, or even the scene, really (it just affects like one line of dialogue Alex says right then) and yet BOTH choices work so well as a conclusion, it's literally up to your interpretation and it gives you an in-game way to express that.

Thematically: the use of the council reinforces the game's focus on community; and the way the presentation of the scene stays locked in on Alex and Jed's expressions reinforces its focus on emotion - not to mention that the entire scene also acts as a way to showcase how Alex has come to accept, understand, and process her own emotions while Jed, even THEN, right fucking at the moment of his demise, is trying to mask his emotions, to hide them and suppress them and forget them (something the game has already expressed subtly by way of his negative emotions which would give him away NOT being visible to Alex even despite her power).

Narratively: we are given a confrontation that makes sense and feels edifying to see play out after everything we've experienced and learned. We see Alex use her powers in a new and exciting way that further builds the empowering mood the climax is going for and adds a cinematic drama to it. No matter what decisions the player makes, Alex has agency in her own climax, we experience her making a decision, using her power, asserting herself now that she has gone through the growth this narrative has put her through. Alex gets to resolve her shit, gets to have her moment to really shine and experience the end of a character arc in this narrative.

Without taking extra time to design the game around these pillars, the finale wouldn't be so strong. If they didn't give us enough opportunities to interact with the townspeople, their presence in the end wouldn't matter, but everyone who has a say in the council is someone we get an entire scene (at least one) dedicated to interacting with them and their emotions. If they didn't implement choices in the scene itself, it would still be powerful but we wouldn't feel as involved, it'd be more passive. If they didn't showcase Alex's power, we might be left underwhelmed, but they do so in a way that actually works in the context through how they have chosen to present it, while also just tonally heightening the climax by having this drastic lighting going on. If they didn't have the council involved, we'd lose the theming of community. If they didn't have the foil of Alex/Jed and how they have each processed their emotions, we'd miss that key component. And if we didn't have such detailed facial animations, the presentation just wouldn't be as effective.

Ryan/Steph are a little bit like, in this awkward sideline spot during the climax? Steph always supports you, and Ryan supports you or doubts you conditionally, which is unsurprising but also ties into the themes of Ryan having grown up woven into this community, and Steph being once an outsider who has found a place within it. They're still there, either way, which is important. The only relevant characters who aren't present are more supporting characters like Riley, Ethan, and Mac. Ethan being the only one of those who gets an entire 'super emotions' scene, but that also marks the end of his arc and role in the story, so...it's fine. Mac and Riley are less important and younger, as well, and have their own side story stuff you have more direct influence on, too.

But damn, ya'll, this climax just works so well. It especially stands out to me given just how rarely I experience a conclusion/climax that feels this rewarding.

And then after that we get a wonderful montage of a theoretical life Alex might live on to experience. Her actions don't overthrow a conglomerate billionaire company. She doesn't even save a town, really. If the entire council thinks you're full of shit, Jed still confesses either way - because it's not up to the council whether he does this, it's because of Alex, regardless of player choice. Honestly, even after a playthrough where I made most choices differently from my wife, there weren't really many changes to that montage at the end. It'd have been great if it felt more meaningfully different, but maybe it can be. Even if not, the design intent is there and the execution still works. It's a really nice way to end the story, especially since it's not even a literal montage but one Alex imagines - again, her processing what she's gone through, what she desires, expressed externally for us to see it. And for once, the actual final 'big decision' in a game of this type manages to be organic, make sense, and feel good and appropriate either way. You choose to either have Alex stay in Haven Springs and continue building her life there, or you can choose to have her leave and try to be an indie musician, with the events of the game being yet another chunk of her life to deal with and move on from (I haven't really touched on it, but music, especially as a way to express and process emotions, is a recurring thing, much like photography was in the original game, or Sean's illustrations in LiS2). For once, a climactic 'pick your ending' decision that doesn't feel shitty. It's pretty rare for this genre, honestly.

I could - and already have, and likely will - have so much more to say about this game and its details, but I really wanted to focus on touching upon a main element that has left me impressed: the way the entire game feels designed. It feels intentionally constructed but in a way that reinforces what it is trying to express as a story. It's not just trying to make people cry for the sake of 'emotions.' It is a game literally about emotions and it comes to a conclusion in a way that is clearly saying something positive and empowering about empathy and self-acceptance.

Storytelling is a craft, like any other, and it entails deliberate choices and decisions that can objectively contribute to how effective a story is for its intended audience.

A good story isn't something you find, after all.

It's something you build.

[misssophiachase]

For @klarolinefallbingo​​ Jack ‘O’ Lantern

Part 1 of this drabble - Knives Out (Pumpkin Carving Consent) - is HERE 

Everyone’s A Winner

Klaus has decided to propose and thinks pumpkin carving is a good way to do it given Caroline lives for the activity and the holidays. Pity his competitive siblings didn’t get the memo on helping to behave and set the mood. 

Mikaelson Compound - New Orleans, LA - Halloween Eve

“Kol stabbed me,” Rebekah whined, gesturing to the red, bloodied mark that was already beginning to heal. 

“Nothing I haven’t done before and will do again, that’s a promise. Anyway, she dumped these disgusting pumpkin innards all over me,” he growled, attempting to remove the orange gunk from his dark hair. 

Caroline couldn’t quite believe they’d walked the earth for over one thousand years given the level of maturity they were currently displaying. But at the same time, it was incredibly amusing. 

Her boyfriend didn’t seem to share her thoughts given the dirty looks he was shooting their way from the other side of the courtyard. He’d been extremely protective and secretive of his finished product since they began carving. Caroline liked that they were both highly competitive and after tonight she knew that would translate well in their bedroom.  

Elijah meanwhile was incredibly zen putting the final touches on his pumpkin, clearly he’d learned how to block his siblings out after all those years spent together. 

“Maybe if you two spent more time carving and less time complaining we might finish these in time for this Halloween,” Klaus growled, finally finding his voice. 

“Someone is clearly worried his pumpkin won’t win the competition.”

“Last time I checked I was the artist in the family, little sister,” he scoffed. 

“Enough with the oversized ego, Nikalus,” Kol groaned. “So, when I do win, what’s my prize, darling?”

Caroline paused momentarily, realising she hadn’t thought of a prize. Given the Mikaelsons seemed to actually be participating and enjoying a holiday, Caroline knew she needed to think of something fast. 

“Well, I think you’re all doing an impressive job...” 

“Did someone spike her pumpkin spiced latte?” Kol asked curiously.

“Enough with the pleasantries, Forbes, what will I win?” Rebekah demanded. 

Gee, these Mikaelsons were a tough crowd to please.  

“You know it’s not about who wins and loses, right?” Elijah had returned to the conversation. “It’s about the fun of participating.”

“No, I think someone spiked his latte,” Rebekah snorted. 

“Nobody spiked anything,” she shot back tersely. “Why can’t you people just get along and appreciate the holidays? Is that too much to ask in this family?”

“Exactly! I’ll dagger you all if you don’t cease haranguing Caroline,” Klaus snarled. Given his tone, Caroline knew he wasn’t joking and would probably do it. 

“Threats aren’t in the holiday spirit either,” Caroline admonished. Yes, he could be hot when he was protective but wasn’t setting a good example either. 

“Okay, the winner gets bragging rights until Thanksgiving.” Given the unimpressed looks on their faces, Caroline knew that wouldn’t cut it. “Uh, and a special holiday trophy.” She lied. It was all she had on such short notice.      

“We get a trophy?” Rebekah asked excitedly. 

“No, I get the trophy,” Kol shot back. 

“Yes,” Caroline faltered, not expecting that to please the Original siblings who could have anything they wanted in the world. “And the winner keeps it until Thanksgiving when we’ll have another challenge and so forth.”

“Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?” Rebekah asked. 

“Yeah, I could have definitely gotten into these holidays if I knew I could beat Rebekah.” 

Turns out that competitive streak ran in the family. Caroline loved Klaus but had always struggled fitting in with his prickly siblings. Maybe they were more alike than she first thought?

If it meant they would enjoy the holidays with her, Caroline knew she’d had a small victory. She couldn’t miss the way Klaus was flashing those dimples in her direction from afar, clearly reading her thoughts.

“Okay less talking and more carving. Once you finish we’ll light them up for judging and no peeking beforehand.”

The siblings were uncharacteristically quiet as they finished their creations. Caroline meanwhile had to come up with a trophy at last minute. Lucky she loved a challenge and was extremely resourceful under pressure. 

Two hours later

“This whole competition is fixed!” Kol hissed, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. Rebekah was close on his heels. 

“Talk about a conflict of interest. Unbelievable!”

“Way to ruin this moment,” Klaus growled. “For once could you two please stop thinking about yourselves and shut the hell up?”

Caroline meanwhile was in total shock, unable to reply let alone form words. Well, none that were in actual English.  She could only focus on the light-filled jack ‘o’ lanterns nearby.

“Well, I think it’s all rather lovely,” Elijah offered, gesturing to them lined up in a row in the courtyard, the glow emanating reflecting a warm, orange hue.

In any other situation this might have been romantic, heartwarming even. But not with this family.  

“He’s not only hoodwinked our judge, he carved three pumpkins. That wasn’t in the rules,” Kol complained.  

“His carvemanship isn’t even that good,” Rebekah critiqued. “His M’s look like H’s. I mean what exactly does ‘Will you Harry He?’ actually mean?”

Caroline meanwhile was still in shock. In fact, she’d blocked out any of their ridiculous remarks as soon as the jack ‘o’ lanterns were unveiled, his especially. 

“I think it’s time you all left.” Klaus ordered, breaking Caroline from her trance. “Except Caroline, of course.”

“But the winner hasn’t been announced yet,” Rebekah said, glaring at Caroline and no doubt trying to preempt the result. 

“Because that’s the most important thing right now,” Elijah murmured. “Okay, let’s leave these two alone.” They went, albeit begrudgingly, but Caroline knew they’d be back as soon as possible. 

That only left the possible fiancés in their wake. 

“I know you have high standards, love, but I was hoping you might like my offering?” Klaus asked, closing the distance between them. 

Caroline, meanwhile, was still stuck to the spot. She could hear him talking but her focus was still very much trained on the jack-o-lantern proposal she wasn’t expecting. 

At all.

“You carved me a proposal?” She squeaked, finally finding her voice. 

“I know how much you love the holidays and I thought it might be a good time to ask you to spend all eternity with me. I can’t promise that my siblings won’t show up from time to time to ruin things though. Tonight is case in point.”

“You carved me a proposal?” 

“Well, yes, and I also got you one of these,” he offered, kneeling down in front of her and flashing an impressive, princess cut, diamond ring. “If you’ll have me, of course?”

For being the most powerful creature on earth, he was certainly looking extremely vulnerable at that very moment. Caroline still couldn’t find the words even if she knew what her answer was given it was a no-brainer. 

Her silence was no doubt making him more nervous because he continued. 

“You are the love of my life, Caroline Forbes. For someone who has been on this earth for, uh a while, you have taught me more in the past few years than I ever imagined. You constantly challenge me and make me want to be a better hybrid, well for the most part.”

Caroline was struggling to hide her smile now. Who knew the Original Hybrid had it in him?

“Not only that, your passion for life, including the holidays, is contagious and I love the fact you’ve introduced my family to all new traditions. We didn’t have the best upbringing and it means so much that you can give us another chance to really live and experience things. Well, if you’ll agree to marry me?”

Now the tears welling in her eyes were well and truly free, spilling down her cheeks. She knew she loved him, she knew what her answer was minutes earlier but now it was going to get messy.

“You carved me a proposal,” she sobbed. 

“As you’ve mentioned before, and here I thought you’d like it,” he murmured, his discomfort obvious and not just because he was still kneeling on the floor. 

“I do, I love it,” she whimpered. “I love you and especially since you proposed on a holiday. And you can carve a pumpkin, no matter what Rebekah says.”

“I heard that,” Rebekah scowled. Clearly they hadn’t gone far. 

“So any chance you want to answer my question this century, love?” 

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” she rambled. “I couldn’t imagine my life without you and your crazy relatives.”

“We heard that,” Kol shared from the shadows.

He placed the ring on her finger and pulled her into his arms. Caroline revelled in his embrace, thinking life couldn’t get any better than this. And all on a holiday which made things so much better. 

Before they could really celebrate, his family converged on them. Yes, there was some minimal celebration but suddenly they were all standing by their jack ‘o’ lanterns in anticipation. 

“There is no way that is happening tonight,” Klaus chided. “We have big plans that don’t involve any of you.”

“Oh come on, Klaus. I did promise,” Caroline offered. 

“I don’t care,” he rebutted, picking her up and carrying her over his shoulder. Caroline was so swept up in the moment that she didn’t even call him out on his petulant behaviour. But she also knew what was waiting for her upstairs and couldn’t exactly complain. 

Turns out Elijah won the competition and the sought after trophy. But Klaus, Kol and Rebekah swore vengeance for Thanksgiving. 

And they were all looking forward to it for the first time in their lives. 

[holgadirect012-blog]

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[transformersrelay]

Weathervane is the newest member of the Bisector family, but first he needs the grand tour!

When Radius and Mace stepped from the ship out onto the planet’s surface, a slim, yet clunky biplane was on the stretch of landing across them, still steadying himself from the gust of air accompanying their landing. The Bisector was a ship of impressive scale, to be certain. It sloped distinctly at its bow, the arching figure imposing in itself, even from the inside. By the way he hadn’t even glanced their way in favor of staring up at it, it seemed their new recruit had been taken off-guard.

Radius huffed a laugh, already fond of the blatant awe and nerves playing across this mech’s face. Mace, the miniscule drone of a bot (so small as to often be mistaken as a minibot,) waved one clawed servo excitedly, hopping into a run over to greet him. He’d been telling Radius earlier all about how excited he was to be having another flier on board, and it was a little infectious, he’d admit. He sauntered on after.

“Hello! Hello! It’s so nice to meet you!” Mace grabbed one of the biplane’s wire-thin servos in both of his, which cause the other to flinch away subtly. “My designation is Mace, it’s super cool to meet another Autobot flier! And with a very fashionable color, as well, I might add!”

The newcomer glanced down at his orange-heavy paint, then Mace’s, and blinked. The poor thing seemed a little overwhelmed. Radius laughed good-naturedly. He picked Mace up and set him on one of his massive shoulders, before turning back and smiling.

“I’m Radius. You’re Weathervane, right?”

He, Weathervane, stopped frowning nervously at Mace to meet Radius’ warm blue visor.

“Y-yeah, that’s right,” he said softly, an attempt at a little return of the smile gracing is face. “Nice to meet you. And thank you for taking me aboard.”

“No problem!” Mace said, his wings fluttering pointlessly as he spoke, (apparently mildly confusing the biplane,) “You made the right choice requesting us, ‘cuz we’re the best ship around, it’s true!” He punctuated his declaration with a pose from atop Radius’ shoulder, prompting him to chuckle.

“Alright, alright, let’s not take too long getting back in. That Captain of mine won’t be too happy.” He gestured for Weathervane to follow as he lumbered towards the ship. “We’ll give you the grand tour once we’re back up, too, so don’t worry about finding your way around.”

Weathervane hurried to follow. Radius was a Wrecker-- that would be clear to anyone. Heavy armor sat on his shoulders, towering far above Weathervane’s helm, pedes making the ship protest with every step he took aboard. He cradled obvious scars, but his smile was a constant.  

As they boarded the loading bay, looming bay doors shuttering closed behind them, Radius glanced back to see the biplane once again taking in the impressive scale of his surroundings. As he looked around, his focus seemed to settle on the one ship docked within, taking only a third of the space. He turned fully towards him and both he and Mace threw out their hands with excitement.

“Welcome aboard!” He chimed, almost too cheerfully, the smile on his lips somehow evident in the visor over his optics, “Now you’re officially part of the Bisector!”

“Ah, yes, I… am. Thank you?” His long wings fluttered anxiously as the ship rumbled, beginning to lift off.

“Haha, Primus, you have manners. Echo’ll be thrilled,” Mace’s blue visor beamed, vibrated with energy and mischief, very much like his voice did. Weathervane didn’t look thrilled.

“Don’t mind him,” Radius teased, “he’s simply full of friendly things to say.”

“Who would mind, that Radius? Don’t be silly.” the tiny flier replied, crossing his arms triumphantly.

“Anyway, it’ll be my job to show ya ‘round the place. We don’t want you getting lost on your first day.”

Weathervane simply nodded slowly. He didn’t want that either.

--

Weathervane was led through hallway after bright hallway. The ship seemed to have no shortage of power, which was somewhat impressive in its own right. That wasn’t something that was common, anymore, what with their vast resources all but a hollow memory now. There was general wear and tear to every surface, dings and scratches and the odd spot of random-planet dirt along the walls or floor plating, but the place was almost too normal to be an active warship. Almost like it had just come off the bays of Cybertron a cycle prior, rather than centuries.

“So, we’re a pretty average sized crew. We’ve got folks from Paradron to Dahros, so don’t worry,” Radius smiled lazily as they walked, “We’re all a little out of our zone, here. Luckily, there’s plenty of room here for all of us, and everything runs pretty smoothly. The Bisector’s a class-A warship--”

“From Optimus himself!” Mace interrupted, sounding like he’d just spilled their most precious secret, though Weathervane did perk slightly. Out of curiosity on how that happened, Radius assumed.

“--and she’s gotten us around more than well enough, with plenty to spare.” Weathervane didn’t add anything immediately, resigning to a distinct interest in the ship, now that its praises had been sung. Radius didn’t blame him, it was a lot to take in at once.

“Plus she’s just so full of charm!” Mace chattered. “Although considering TD, I don’t think she feels the same way about us, you know? I wonder why! Also, more orange paint, nothing better am I right?”

“I take offense,” Radius teased.

“Well, I can make exceptions. You lose points for being blue and not a flyer, but you still have a very high overall score!”

“That sure is reassuring. I was worried you’d moved on to better things and forgotten all about me.”

Mace gasped with fervor. “Never! I would never do that!”

Weathervane murmured some question, but Radius didn’t catch it, instead laughing at his companion’s dramatised distress. And off they went, chatting amongst themselves, forgetting their new company for the moment. He followed along silently nonetheless.

Radius considered himself an incurable optimist, which he knew didn’t mesh well with everyone. Weathervane didn’t strike him as all sunshine, so he tried to tone back his usual enthusiasm, if for no other reason than to make his transition easier.

Mace, on the other servo, was a chatterbox. A chatterbox who didn’t pick up cues-- ever, really. His antenna clacked constantly as he talked--which meant that they clacked a lot. He had it on good authority that the way his wings bobbed incessantly as some form of fidgeting also confused other fliers (or in his “good authority”’s case-- that being the only other flier on the ship-- it was incredibly frustrating.) He prattled on in his absurdly energetic tone about every room they passed on their way to the main deck.

“This one is the hangar, obviously!” Okay. “These are the suites, rec room, energon storage-” Uh-huh. “Armory, storage closet, ventilation shafts, staff exit-”. Got it. And the Wrecker just passively encouraged him as they went. He did start to worry that Mace’s breakneck-speed introductions were beginning to stress Weathervane out, though. He seemed like the type to get stressed. Radius supposed, thinking fondly of his sparkmate, that he would know. So he kept an eye out, but nothing came of it.

There was no mistake to be made, the Bisector was stocked impressively. They clearly weren’t wealthy in resources, but the armory was fully loaded with some of the highest-end weaponry in the cosmos. The hangar was large enough for at least 3 cruisers-- one of which already present in the bay. Weathervane gave it special attention, perhaps wondering if it was an emergency escape, or if it belonged to anyone on board. Energon was in fair supply, Radius informed him, or at least rationed very responsibly, and the hab suites were big enough for 4 average mechs.

The rec room sat at the very end of the hallway, and wound down the inner edge of the ship, a large, curved room lined with windows that peered out into the inky abyss of space. The guides spoke of this particular area fondly, their hub for gathering and socializing, and it bred a sense of comfort and normalcy.

“Most of us end up in here at the same time at least once a cycle,” Radius mused. “It’s pretty relaxed. The whole crew is pretty easy to get along with.”

And like clockwork, there was a new face. She was small, very small, and stalking down the hallways with purpose. The seering yellow visor flickered over Weathervane so fast- so unfeeling- that Radius could see him suppress the flinch. Only Radius’ booming voice slowed her down, a simple, “Hey, Batt, meet the newbie! This is Weathervane.”

“Battery,” she all but spat back, and despite the visor, very blatantly scanned his entirety in both disinterest and critique. And without another word from any of them, she turned on her heel and sped off on whatever she was doing.  Perhaps the largest mech sensed the biplane’s nerves, so he was the first to speak again.

“She’s uh… Like that with everyone. It’s not personal,” he gave a slight shrug before leading on. “She’ll warm up to you, they always do!” The biplane wasn’t going to bring up the contradiction.

Radius was all too excited to give their newest the rundown on their crew. It wasn’t the first time he’d played welcome party, and this part was always his favorite. They had twin medical chiefs, outlying agents, and specialists on every facet of the ship’s workings, in one way or another. Battery, in all her pleasantries, was in charge of managing and maintaining the armory. “She’s a weapons specialist,” Mace offered, as if he was proud on her behalf.

“That explains a lot,” and Weathervane managed to rouse a laugh out of both of them.

----

From that point on, the crew would come floating by one-by-one. Bumper, an easy-going grounder about Weathervane’s size, meandered into their path shortly after the first encounter with Battery, emerging from the far end of the rec room. He seemed friendly, with a lazy smile and an obnoxious, optic-aching color scheme.

“Bumper’s our ‘inventory manager’,” Radius offered, and Bumper immediately chuckled.

“Ah, that’s what we’re callin’ it now, ey?” He turned to the new recruit, “They give me scrap about ‘loiterin’’ around the high grade, but don’t listen to ‘em, it’s not true.”

Mace sputtered from his perch, “It so is! I’ve seen it with my own two optics! Don’t try and mislead our poor naive recruit, it’s his first day!” Weathervane muttered that he was new to the Bisector, not being an Autobot, and Bumper just waved the drone off. The three bursting into laughter. Their recruit seemed to sulk.

“So, where you from? How’d y’end up here? That last rock was a long ways from anythin’.”

“Vos. Last crew… uh… didn’t make it.”

“... Oh.”

And everyone got quiet for a moment longer than Weathervane was probably comfortable with. Thank Primus that Bumper broke the silence.

“Sorry to hear that,” he said. Generic condolences were standard this deep in a war. “Listen, we should meet up for a ‘newbie drink’ when you’re settled in. It’s kinda customary around here.” He smiled. “Helps with the nerves.”  Weathervane watched him for a moment, and his optics seemed to soften, if only slightly. That was almost comforting. Genuine.

“I’d like that,” the new flier simply agreed, and that seemed to lift the heavy mood that had come upon them.

Next to cross their path was Stagger. Mace hung off this poor mech even worse than he did with Radius.  He was hulking, much like his crewmate, and nearly the same height, just with less bulk to his silhouette. He was an almost unnatural, pristine white, and his face rested at a distinct sag. He didn’t look pleased at a new recruit, and was very clearly skeptical of the stalky biplane being introduced to him.

“Nice to have you.” He greeted simply, before turning to Radius. They were a striking pair, with their brilliant red accents and clashing blues and whites.

“Another one?” He’d tried to be subtle, but wasn’t quite out of range. The taller mech just sighed, flashing an apologetic smile, and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Try not to worry, Short-Stuff. It’s always a good thing.” Whether Stagger knew better than to believe him or was simply annoyed at the dismissal, Weathervane couldn’t tell based on his glare.

Whatever it was was promptly left behind as his guides moved on. “More ship to show!” Mace chirped, “We’re running a tight schedule and you’re distracting us!” Stagger groaned, but didn’t seem offended as Mace shifted back from Stagger’s shoulders to Radius��, and the group parted to continue their tour.

“‘Another’?” Weathervane repeated, curiosity getting the best of him as they entered the main hub of the ship.

“Ah, don’t mind him,” the Wrecker assured, “Not everyone on board is uh... as inclined to strays as Echo is. It’s just a running joke.”

There was a peculiar, empty space where Mace’s response should have been. Weathervane spared him a glance.

The main deck was as any bridge in any good ship should be. It was huge. It framed the space above and before them so powerfully that even Radius couldn’t help but feel small as it all towered above him.  It was clean-- almost obsessively so-- and brimming with shouts when they arrived.

A behemoth of a mech, all wingspan, turbines, and angry red biolights stood in the center of the bridge, hovering over some holographic diagram projecting from the middle of the room. Pitch black in color, and so high up that his words either vaporized halfway to the ground or shook it entirely. By the look on the new recruit’s face he felt his energon go cold. Their astro class crewmate seemed to have that effect on everyone.  

Somewhere far, far below him was who he was arguing with: a smaller mech glowing an electric shade of blue.

“-risk will outweigh the reward. It’s idiocy, Shrapnel.”

“You can continue to play these things safe! It’s absurd to not use these opportunities!”

“‘Opportunities’ that will easily cost us lives. More than we will ever have to spare. Is that a worthy sacrifice to you?”

“Or what? Taking no chances, making no moves, just waiting to be struck first? It’s not tactically sound judgement to--”

“This is not a discussion of tactics. This is a denial.”

“... Fine! Captain.”

Unceremoniously, the astro class turned, some frustrated sound whirring dangerously through turbines as large as Weathervane himself, and saw himself out. He didn’t acknowledge the small welcome party as he passed, and didn’t offer so much as a nod in his fellow flier’s direction. Weathervane settled, if only a little, paused and frowned. He glanced back at the other mech, smaller than he was, evidently putting it together that this was the Captain. Perhaps he’d assumed it was Shrapnel, Radius thought bemusedly.

He casually continued from where they left off, as if nothing had happened to begin with. Very little on this ship made him feel out of place anymore, not an awkward strut left in him. It seemed Weathervane didn’t have the same luxury.

“You got a minute, Echo?”

The smaller Autobot turned, as if just noticing them himself. “Never,” He replied, almost vacantly, before eyeing the new recruit, “Weathervane, I take it. Captain Echo.”

The addressed nodded. If he seemed to have relaxed any at Shrapnel’s absence, the calm evaporated once more under the piercing, uncomfortable power this bot-- Echo-- exerted by glance alone. Immediately the signs of suppressed anxiety resurfaced.

Thankfully, Echo only focused on him for a fraction of time, though it felt much longer, before coming to a simple, “We’ll discuss your position, shortly. Welcome aboard.” With that, he went back to his control panel and a not-at-all-apologetic excuse of ‘I have work to do.’

Radius hesitated, if only slightly, before turning to usher the recruit out towards the exit on the other side of the main deck. “We’ll show you the medbay and the rest of the quarters, next,” He thought aloud, returned to his same enthusiastic way. As the door opened to let them pass, two sleek black figures strolled past. Their engines purred as they went with their floating gaits and flippant conversation.

They were Velocitronians, clearly, with their flashy, athletic features. They paused as they passed by, throwing warm greetings at the guides and unambiguously sized the newcomer up. The femme with her blazing yellow optics, warm orange stripes and bulky frame, and her partner, all sleek points and neon greens slicing across the black pearled paint. They watched him carefully, curiously, and he pressed his lips to a thin line-- the barest sign he was scrutinizing them in return. Perhaps he just didn’t like the attention. Perhaps he felt challenged. While the two weren’t all pure Velocitronian vanity, some of them definitely was.

“These are Circuitblitz and Calgarydome!” Mace chirped, unprompted as always.

“Pleasure,” The femme-- Circuitblitz-- drawled finally, her lazy accent obvious and thick, “Blitz is fine”. She watched him with unburdened optics sharp, as calculated as steel, and painted orange lips upturned in a vibrant, practiced smile. He managed a soft ‘Weathervane’ in return.

“And I’m Calgarydome,” the other offered energetically, his helm quirked slightly and his smile much more open than hers, “I go by Cal, though! Don’t go forgetting it~”

“I won’t.”

Calgarydome laughed. “Man, you sure are nervous, huh?” He leaned to nudge Weathervane playfully, though the biplane tensed significantly.

“We don’t bite, promise!” Mace giggled from Radius’ shoulder.

“Supposedly.” The Velocitronian shot the drone a taunting look, as if about to start a debate with the little flier. The newbie simply smiled weakly, taking a step back to account for the contact.

“W-well, that’s reassuring.”

“We should be moving on,” Radius finally interjected, interrupting the incoming standoff-- swear to Primus, this always happened. He reached to steady the new recruit, his hand sitting squarely on Weathervane’s shoulder, covering it. “We’re almost done with the tour.”

“Ah, yes. Come on, beau, let’s not harass him,” Blitz purred patiently, mirroring the Wrecker’s hint and reaching to turn her partner back towards the main deck. “We have to report in to the Captain.” Calgarydome groaned.

“Glad to have you two back,” the Wrecker finished as they went their separate ways, and the duo laughed.

“Flattered,” Blitz replied, as the doors closed between them.

“Iii like them!”

“I know you do, Mace.”

“They’re so cool. Do you think they think I’m that cool?”

“Oh, certainly.”

“aHA good! ‘Cause I think I’m pretty close but--”

Weathervane just took a moment to breathe.

--

“This’ll be where your quarters are,” Radius explained, opening a hab suite for the recruit to inspect.

It was near identical to all the others they’d already passed by, two layered berths sat against the far end, a small screen on the closest wall, and even had a small desk, littered with datapads. Lights were built into the upper rim near the ceiling and lit the room a soft, hazy blue. These suites were on the inner edge of the ship, and therefore didn’t have windows like the rooms on the other side, but that was okay. There was plenty of room for a mech his size, clunky wings and all, and that was more than enough.

“Thank you,” He said simply, appreciatively. The Wrecker almost beamed.

“Of course! Nothing like a little slice of home, right?”

“Right.”

--

“And lastly, right down here is the medbay.” Radius stopped as the double doors slid open to let Weathervane in first. He was quickly met by two large bots. They weren’t quite Radius’ size, but still dwarfed the biplane easily. They looked identical in every way except paint, and didn’t have any obvious indicators of vehicle mode-- no wings, no wheels. One looked at him in distant curiosity, while the other--

“OH recruit day was today!?” She gasped, bright yellow optics on him immediately, “I didn’t know it was today!”

“That’s because you don’t keep track of the schedule,” The darker teal one offered humorlessly. The femme shot him a look, but didn’t focus on him.

“Hi! I’m Operandi!” She smiled, bending down slightly so that she was closer to face-to-face with the flier. “That’s my brother, Modus,” she jabbed a finger in the other’s direction, “But don’t mind him. He’s not very friendly--”

“Hey--”

“--But I, for one, am super excited to meet you!” She was obviously quite young, her voice curious and innocent. She didn’t reach to touch him, which was such a welcome change already.

“Weathervane. It’s nice to meet you, too,” he answered with a small smile.

“Welcome to the medbay! Come right in! We hope not to see you often--” she paused, “No offense.” The other twin, Modus, groaned quietly in the background, setting down the datapad in his hands and looking both apologetic and embarrassed. He’d clearly heard that one many times before.

The medical ward was moderately sized, but looked like two different rooms entirely. Half was neat and organized. Datapads were stacked precisely, all the same height, medical supplies in easy reach, labeled in careful, delicate New Cybertronian. The vials were color coded.

The other wasn’t quite sloppy, but was definitely less maintained. Though, this side seemed to have more to do with aftercare and cosmetic fixes than the more surgical, meticulous other half. There were coolant creams with the caps half off and buffers with the cords sloppily wound, pieces of emergency patchmetal and spare pieces in a disorganized pile.

“Well, I hope not to be here often,” Weathervane returned carefully, but Operandi (and Mace) laughed, and so he allowed himself a grin.

“How’re you sparkplugs doing?” Radius asked, seeming content that Weathervane had warmed up to them enough to joke.

“Excellent, Sir.” Modus replied with surprising volume, “We’re finishing our medical evaluations, per Captain Echo’s request.”

“Relax kiddo. Good work.” The Wrecker smiled, and the medic immediately sputtered, murmuring a soft ‘thank you’. “And Peri?”

“She’s also finished with her assessments, Sir, she’s on her way to log them. Barring your information, of course.” He looked at the biplane indicatively.

Weathervane paused at the nod. “...Information?”

“It’s standard medical protocol,” Modus answered. “We log your serial numbers and proto-activation date to narrow down what kind of parts you require. It’s purely to make sure that if you’re injured, we can treat wounds effectively with as little discomfort and incompatibility-shock as possible.”

“...You can do that? How do you find the parts…?”

“Cal and Blitz are experts at tracking down stuff like that,” Radius offered, “They’re amazing once they get talking.” Weathervane found himself curious, but didn’t get the chance to ask after more.

“Hello, kids--Oh! and others!” A femme poked into the medbay along with them, datapads in her servos. Bumper wasn’t far behind her, sipping absently at a cube and giving Weathervane a lazy smile that was quickly returned.  

“Weathervane, Perimeter. Perimeter, Weathervane. Peri, this is the new guy,” Radius introduced, gesturing between the two.

“Phew! I think that’s finally all of them, Rad!” Mace sighed, as if he were so exhausted by their endeavors, before looking down at the biplane from his perch, “That’s officially it, bud! You’re fully educated!”

“Well, aside from the guys who aren’t aboard,” Radius said.

Weathervane didn’t pay Mace much mind, which just prompted more indignant squawking from the drone. Operandi laughed openly at him and Bumper seemed bemused.While Radius’ comment interested him, the new bot held the biplane’s attention, as always. He simply disliked being in the dark about someone, especially when he would be working with them for quite a while. Call him a people person.

“Very nice to meet you, Weathervane!” Perimeter’s pale faceplate was calm and open, reaching to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he replied, suddenly relieved to not have to repeat the phrase anymore. For a moment, he found the sentiment in himself funny. He took her servo tentatively. She had a firm grip for such a small thing.

“I’m sorry that I can’t stay for now, but I’m sure we’ll be able to talk much more in depth soon! I’ll be sure to ask Echo to excuse you for your evaluation as soon as possible.”

“Evaluation?”

“Ah, yes. I’m a psychologist, so it’s part of the medical analysis process to chat with you upon your introduction to the crew.” His optics tightened. “Which is to say that I look forward to knowing you better!”

He nodded stiffly, but if she noticed she didn’t mention it. He’d been dealing with Radius and Mace all cycle, afterall. Surely he looked tired.

She handed off a stack of her notes to Modus, appreciative of his willingness to rewrite them into the ship’s logs by hand, and doted on Operandi for a brief moment before excusing herself. She spared him a quick smile as she went, eyes suddenly trained so firmly to him that he almost flinched--as if she was looking right through him. Weathervane had the impression she was perceptive. Smart, more so than she let on. He frowned.

“So, where are you from?” The mech twin suddenly turned to Weathervane, snapping him from his thoughts.

“Oh, uh. Vos.” He said. Modus had a datapad back in hand, he noticed, already writing things down.

“And how old--”

“Oh, Vos!” Operandi interrupted, “That’s one of the big cities, right? On Cybertron!”

“Y-yes, it is?” Weathervane frowned, confused. Why ask such an obvious question, unless-- ah, unless, of course, they’d never been on Cybertron. Oh, they were very young, weren’t they.

“I heard it was super tall, since all the fliers lived there!” She was saying, enthused.

“What was it like, living there… if you don’t mind?” Her twin asked.

Weathervane tipped his head, considering. “That’s a lot to cover, if you haven’t even seen the place.”

“I would hope!” She smiled brightly at him. There was a glitter in her eyes, a pure eagerness to learn. Modus, too, had his full attention turned to him from a safer distance, unabashedly interested. There was a passion for knowledge burning in both of them, it was clear to see. He couldn’t help the little spark of fondness that cropped up.

“Alright, alright,” Bumper put up his hands, frowning. “That’s enough ‘reminiscin’ for my tastes. If you’re gon’ start talkin’ about all this, I’ll just catch ya later--”

::All report to the main deck. We’re landing::

“Ah, that can’t be good,” Radius mumbled, not sounding as concerned as his observation suggested he should be.

“What’s going on?”  

“Probably just another maintenance check.  Fuel’s been spotty.”

Weathervane frowned. That would’ve been nice to know before he boarded.

“If that’s the case, it’s a quick fix. Let’s just hustle up to the--” Before the Wrecker could finish, the lights-- so impressive to him before-- suddenly died. Red filled the ship’s hallways, blinking slowly, threateningly.

“Well, that’s definitely a bad sign,” Radius was moving, and Weathervane decided all he could do was follow, taking twice the steps to keep up. “So, this is defensive protocol,” the larger explained, his calm demeanor turned unsettling, “We’re very likely under attack-- or going to be.”

The biplane glanced back at the twins, but they hadn’t moved. Staying behind, he discerned. He moved to keep up with the Wrecker.

“Suitin’ up?” Bumper asked from beside him. Radius hummed an affirmative. They whisked away to where Weathervane recalled the armory was. It was on the way to the main deck, so he didn’t bother to point out the detour wasn’t part of their orders. Especially as a number of others were gathered, too, with the minibot, Battery, handing out various weapons.

Weathervane hesitated, hanging back. Bumper grabbed a small blaster for himself and Radius holstered one. The smaller gave him a questioning glance.

“Not really good with those,” he answered, giving an apologetic smile in the pulsing red light.

“They hinder flying,” Mace agreed, now on his own two feet. He seemed more subdued. Nervous, perhaps. Weathervane supposed they all were, but it was still a noticeable contrast to his previous demeanor. At least he was making himself helpful, though.

“Let’s get to the deck” Radius said, taking a step and then pausing, glancing down at Battery for a moment.

“I’ll catch up once everyone’s stocked.” She tipped her visor his way. “Don’t be reckless.”

“We’re Wreckers,” Mace said, cheer returning a little, “it’s in the name!”

She gave him a look. Didn’t say anything more.

“Right, well,” Radius said, continuing on in a rush. He was good at playing calm, but Weathervane knew enough to spot the cracks.

He suddenly realized he hated lingering this long in the hallways, red swimming in his vision softly. It was ominous, and everyone was much too quiet, with the exception of footsteps. They couldn’t reach the deck fast enough.

Once they did, the Captain was already there, as was the largest of their crewmembers-- Shrapnel, he recalled. They weren’t arguing this time, seeming to agree in their stoic, battle-readiness. The difference in their size was stark, but they held the same tense air of authority.

“Line up,” Shrapnel boomed, once they had all entered. The same holographic map from before was still sitting in the center of the main console, a large red dot looming over the otherwise peaceful blue diagram of their current planet.

Decepticons.

The entire squadron obliged, as close to ‘shoulder to shoulder’ as they could be. Shots clearly rang out from beyond the ship’s sturdy walls, and the battle plans immediately began.

--

The hatch on the bay doors came undone easily, the dense metal sheet retracting into itself and into the Bisector’s high ceilings. It took with it the sense of protection and the physical shield from the foreign planet’s surface-- and whatever was waiting for them.

He couldn’t help the shudder that chilled his plates as white light filtered through the opening. Everyone around him shifted into their alt modes as he stood, hesitating and disoriented, and when he got a grip Bumper was by his side.

“Come on, keep close,” he said, giving Weathervane’s arm a soft tug along as he went. The sounds of fire and explosions never stopped frightening him. They ran out and around, as far out from the ship as possible-- couldn’t attract gunfire to it if they were able. He noted the area they were in was full of boulders, rock faces, outcroppings. Nothing so exaggerated as to make for a bottleneck or hinder flight, but he wasn’t sure if that was to their advantage or not. Ohh, spatial awareness was never his strong suit.

“Now listen up,” Bumper startled him out of his thoughts as they slid down behind cover of a small, half-buried boulder. He poked his head up, blaster held ready in front of him. “These guys don’t know we have an extra flier on our hands, y’know? That means you’ve got the element of surprise.” He shifted back down, gave Weathervane a confident smile. “We just need to figure out how to use that.”

“Right,” Weathervane said, glancing around. Checking what he could see. “I’ll figure it out.”

Behind them, up on the side of the ship, (Primus, she really was small to be able to fit up there,) Battery had climbed out with a variety of heavy weapons in tow. She had what appeared to be a rocket launcher and was taking shots at a very large flier above them, probably an astro class. Shrapnel was almost too difficult to keep track of, flying with tremendous speed and grace. He was doing an excellent job of keeping the astro class’ attention, as well as two other fliers. The fire coming from the enemy Cybertronian jet made Battery’s rocket launcher look like a pea shooter. How frightening…

A number of other fliers were sweeping low, trying to get behind the Autobots’ cover and flush them out. It was clear to Weathervane they were experts, probably military caste (what a useless thought, most of the survivors this far in were,) maneuvering with such elegance and ferocity. Zipping closely to their position, a little drone caught his sudden attention. That paint was terribly familiar--

He felt himself yanked harshly into Bumper’s side as a shot connected with the rock where his chassis had been a moment earlier. Bumper peppered fire back at the drone, forcing them to pull back. Likely to loop back around on them, though. Weathervane, still leaned against his companion, watched their direction carefully.

“This might as well be a good moment,” he muttered, getting back to his feet and creeping to the other side of their cover. Bumper watched curiously, face still set, but a tiny, approving grin dancing across it. He coiled his wires and anticipated when the dark blue flier burst into their line of sight, leaping forward and feeling his wings snap into place, the air buoying him from his falling arc. He surprised them, for sure, by the way they hadn’t started shooting yet.

He just had to get close, which might be a bit easier said than done. It was moments like these he wondered if he really ought to invest in learning to use blasters. Not that he wanted the drone dead, there were things he wanted to ask them, after all. They were far more experienced in the air than he was, as earlier surmised, of course, which was unfortunate but not unpredictable. They tried to loop up and behind him, but had to twist away to dodge a few shots from the ground. Weathervane was quickly becoming quite fond of Bumper.

He lurched and pulled straight up, climbing altitude with as much speed as he could muster, and he could barely hear the quiet hum of the drone’s sleek engines as they followed. They climbed and climbed, and his metal suddenly burned with the attention of several other hostiles in the air. Fire hailed around him, and he felt panic suddenly starting to bubble beneath his stupid fucking plans. He throttled it. Not now.

Abrupt, he dropped into root mode, slamming feet-first into the drone’s nose. Briefly they flipped, but recovered on sheer instinct. Weathervane had counted on it in order to land safely on their back. With a flick of the wrist, his digits became long and sickeningly pointed, rose above his helm as he eyed the metal body beneath.

They spiraled, interrupting his attack. He managed to cling on, but then they shifted to root mode and he was finally thrown off.

He saw her visor, and paused.

She shifted her arms to their blasters as they fell, she head-first and still as graceful as ever.

Weathervane snapped out of it and frantically shifted back, boosting himself in the air just out of the way as she shot at him. He evened out and decided it was time to regroup with-- someone. She was certainly chasing. Think.

A sudden bang from dead center made him stutter his flight, shrieking, absolute maniacal laughter filling the air. He tilted to see another astro class in the middle of the field, (how many did this Decepticon fleet have?) tanking multiple shots in order to stand there and laugh. When she was done, she broke into a full sprint and there was an audible panic from below. A shot grazed his wing and he was reminded he couldn’t afford to stand back and observe right then.

New Decepticon paint flashed under him, passing beneath and ahead with ease before whipping around to face him. He dropped, engines cut just in time to avoid a new set of fire. Mace’s bright orange paint caught him completely off-guard, rushing to his defense with fervor. Though he targeted the pink-and-white jet, the other drone twisted and fled.

Weathervane just focused on getting away.

In the distance to his side, a tower of rock toppled over. Certainly there was a group of Autobots that way, but if he were a guessing mech…

Out of the question. He felt more than saw the explosion. The grounded astro class, still laughing, was tossed smoldering and battered from the blast below. Frantically, he looked for the Autobots. Radius and Stagger were there, with Echo behind them, still on their feet, he noted with some relief. From the way they were heaving, they must have had an intense confrontation with the ‘Con. From the size of the blast damage, he could understand why.

Unbidden, he wondered if Echo had devised some devious plan. Wreckers were known for brute power, not deception.

Unable to find a group not locked in battle, he decided to duck down to the ground and hide while he collected his thoughts and came up with something better than aimlessly buzzing around in death-infested air.

He dropped behind a secluded-looking outcropping, and immediately realized his mistake.

The Decepticon whipped around to face him.

He locked eyes with burning red goggles, frozen.

To be fair, the other mech looked just as plainly shaken as he felt. Neither of them moved for what could have only been less than a couple seconds. Felt a lot longer, as he took a small, shuddering breath in. His fans begged for air.

Slowly, the other mech holstered his gun and raised his hands. Weathervane, feeling a twinge of relief, gave him a slight nod. They break away with a jump, he transforming and skimming the ground back to where he remembered that rock tower toppling. The crumbly surface whips past as panic starts trying to set in again.

He landed into the company of Bumper, Circuitblitz, and Calgarydome just in time to hear the issue clearly:

::They’re pulling back, retreat to the Bisector before they get a chance to regroup.::

Weathervane passed a glance to his teammates, the two Velocitronians already shifting gracefully to their sleek vehicle modes and tearing off without more than an acknowledging nod.

“They’ll buy us extra time,” Bumper’s voice was short and rugged, quick to follow their lead and transform. Weathervane just nodded, shifting back to his shaky wings and tearing off towards the warship, its engines roaring back to life.

--

“-Battery?” “Here”

“Stagger.” “Here”

“Weathervane.”

He started, “Uh, here.”

Echo was much smaller up close than he’d even originally thought --perhaps just shorter than Bumper, who was already quite short-- but not any less intimidating. Where there might’ve been expression in another mech’s visor, much like Radius’ immediately gave him away, there was nothing. He looked in Weathervane’s direction, but didn’t look at him. It was almost cold in its calculation, but the fact that he was here, personally checking his soldier’s wounds, was contradictory and perplexing.

“All present, Captain.” Bumper’s voice caught the flier’s attention, calm as always from where he sat along the wall of the main deck. His leg had been grazed by stray laser fire, so he’d been made to sit while they checked their ranks, but he was otherwise unharmed. He flashed Weathervane a lazy smile, catching him looking his way. He weakly smiled back.

Frustration at their disadvantages seemed to be running high, if the silence was anything to go by, but everyone had made it back in one piece, so he didn’t hear any complaining, either.

They had been largely unscathed. Injuries were mostly minor, some burns and new dents at the worst, nothing that couldn’t be easily mended. Radius and Stagger had taken the most impressive damage from that astro class on the ground, it seemed, but he hadn’t seen the Wreckers so much as flinch at their oozing wounds. Weathervane himself was surprised-- and grateful-- that he’d managed to avoid anything severe. Those fliers had given him a run, and he knew his aerial skills weren’t anything to brag about.

“Good work,” Echo finally addressed, once the crew list had been affirmed, voice resonating in the hollow chamber of the main deck, “The Dreadnought’s crew have certainly become aware of our shortage, but pushing them back is a victory in itself for now. Those of you with injuries, report to the medbay. The rest, back to your stations. We’ll regroup to discuss our plan of action once the cycle is through.”

The Dreadnought, hm?

There was the low buzz of ‘Yessir’s and shifting footsteps. Their own resident astro class was the first to leave, opposite the way of the medbay, he noted, despite the fact he had clear chemical burns trailing up his wings. Battery wasn’t far behind. Weathervane didn’t move though, given that he was both uninjured and still station-less, instead opting to wait until a familiar face could point him in the right direction.

He watched for Radius, who was likely his best bet. He wasn’t difficult to spot in a space much too big for a crew their size to hide him, standing off with Mace, across the room from Weathervane’s perch by the door frame. The obnoxiously colored little drone stood quickly at the dismissal and began to crumple in on himself as soon as his weight reached his pedes.  Radius seemed aware of this before it even happened, a hand waiting to catch the little flier before he even started to tilt. Weathervane didn’t see any injuries on him. Something internal?

Bumper left towards the medbay, not limping but not quite walking right, and Radius followed with Stagger and his little companion not long after.  Weathervane waited, watching his Captain’s back as he worked and eyeing the ship’s many flashing dashboards in shaken curiosity. He hadn’t been on a battlefield in too long, maybe. His long fingers were still twitching from the rush and the panic, and the stress and exertion and the panic. Ah, what a nuisance. It didn’t usually take this long to calm down.  

--

“Hey, you good, rookie?” Radius’ voice surprised him.

He’d been staring in vacant interest for too long. The Wrecker still sported his new injuries, but the leaking energon had been taken care of via a quick solder.

Mace was nowhere in sight.

“Yea, I’m fine,” He answered breezily, not sounding terribly convincing.  

“Listen, I gotta talk to Echo, but if you want to take a breather in the rec room? Might do you some good, it’s been a hell of an orn.”

Weathervane wasn’t going to argue with the offer. “Sure, I think I can manage that.” Radius seemed pleased with that answer, again resting an overly large servo on his shoulder in what he assumed was encouragement. He resisted the flinch.

“Excellent. I’ll catch up with you later.” The smaller nodded, inching out from under the other mech’s hand, and they parted ways, Radius towards the silent mech in the center of the room. He’d almost forgotten he was there at all-- he hadn’t moved or made a sound since the crew had cleared out. Then again, neither had he.

The biplane turned to leave out of the door nearest to his new destination. Once he was in the hallway, he turned to look back across the deck and watched Radius quietly take the captain close to him.

The doors closed behind him, so he kept walking.

It didn’t take him any time at all to remember where the lounge was, but the sound of his designation stopped him. Bots on this ship sure did enjoy interrupting each other--

“Just the mech I was lookin’ for,” Bumper wasn’t walking like he’d been shot anymore, which was a good thing. He had two cubes in hand, both the telltale hot pink of high-grade.

“What a day, hm?” The grounder asked, stopping just short of the newbie and offering him a cube, “As promised.”  

Weathervane took it curiously, swirling the liquid in its container, before looking back up to see him walking ahead already. He moved to follow Bumper’s easy stride towards a long, high-set table near the back of the room.

“Shrap-- the second-in-command-- keeps this stuff stocked pretty well,” he was saying, “Not sure why, never seen ‘im drink any, but maybe it’s a build related thing. I always figured jets must just drink stronger stuff. Or would it be fliers in general?”  He was asking, but truthfully, Weathervane didn’t know. Purified Energon was still a new concept to him, let alone something as filtered and potent as high-grade. He’d heard others say the stuff was supposed to burn faster, but they could have easily been misinformed. The feeling of being in the dark about something was not doing his nerves any favors, though he was relaxing quite a bit in Bumper’s presence as it was.

“Not that I’ve ever heard, but I don’t know,” he said as much. He then, belatedly, wondered why Bumper was allowed to take it, if it were Shrapnel’s. Could be for the whole crew, but somehow Weathervane doubted Shrapnel kept the stuff in supply out of the kindness of his heart.

“Ah, well. Don’t have enough fliers on our squad to know for sure. Unlikely we’d ever get the reason outta Shrap anyway,” Bumper chuckled, easing into gossip so easily, as if they hadn’t just been on a battlefield not too long ago, “He’s not the talkative type.”

“I noticed. He seems… standoff-ish?”

“That’s an understatement. ‘N’ he’s hardly the worst of them.”

Weathervane’s interest was piqued, and he thought Bumper could tell. The look he gave him all but said ‘go for it’, a devious, lazy spark to his visor as he sipped his cube in no delicate fashion. The biplane cautiously took a sip of his own, trying not to balk at the foreign, overpowering taste of it. It wasn’t bad, but he’d have to adjust to it-- it was a far cry from the barely processed fuel he was used to. Bumper didn’t seem offended by the hesitance.

“Nice work out there today, by the way. Wasn’t an easy first day,” the grounder mused, filling the silence, “But you handled it well. ‘N’ you’re pretty quick.” He tapped the side of his helm indicatively.

Weathervane smiled, not as thin as before. “Thanks.” He glanced away, as if, perhaps, bashful. “For having my back, that is.”

“No worries, rookie. That’s how it goes around here. Luckily, only most of our fights are that intense,” He laughed slightly, as if it was a joke.  Weathervane took another conservative drink.

“I’m… not actually a rookie, you know.”

“Sure y’are, a rookie to the Bisector, anyways.”

“That’s not how that works.” Weathervane pouted, which got an amused grin out of the other mech.

“A matter of perspective,” he teased, and Weathervane was surprised that he chuckled at that. It only made the other smile a little more.

“Woe is me,” he said, trying at his drink again. It kinda burned. Not in a bad way, but also a bit in a bad way. He wasn’t sure what he thought of it yet, but it gave him something to do.

“So,” Bumper started slowly, after a bout of comfortable silence, “you look like you’ve got questions.”

“Tons.”

“Well, then ask away.”

[worddevdealswithml]

Side Effects Include: Empathy

Chapter 8

As Marinette leaned back in her chair, she couldn’t help a smile.  It was… Simple, really.

All she’d had to do was listen, and, to Nino of all people.  If she’d had to guess who would give her the inspiration… Well, she wasn’t complaining.

And as for putting her plan into practice… Well, it wouldn’t be hard.  After all, late last night, as she’d been mulling things over in bed, she’d realized something important, which was… Lila was powerless.

All she needed was a little time.

--

It was lunch, and by now, Adrien knew the plan.  It was… Terrifying, to say the least, but… If it worked…

He didn’t think he’d been able to eat anything right now.

--

Though her expression was neutral, Lila was fuming.

It was bad enough that Marinette thought she could stand against her, but since this morning, she seemed almost… Blasé about it.  Condescending.

She was plotting something.  Of course she was.  Marinette, for all the curses Lila would have gladly inflicted on her, was tenacious, and resourceful, and above all, driven.  What she really needed, if she was honest, was an opening.  Just… One opening.

So, when she’d heard Adrien explaining to his friends that Marinette wouldn’t be joining them for a while, because she was in the downstairs bathroom, something about having something personal to do…

Well, there were two things to realize.  The first, of course, was that Marinette had to be working on whatever plan had her so confident.

The second, and more… Salient point, was that that bathroom, during lunch, the very place Marinette had chosen for its seclusion, was the perfect place to… Well, put Lila’s own plan into action.

She smiled, letting just a little of the bite in her mind show on her face.

Her hand tapped idly at her pocket, where she was keeping something… Useful.

…

As she walked in, Marinette inhaled sharply, and put her phone away.  Maybe, after everything was done, Lila would check what exactly she’d been planning.  But for now…

“Hi, Lila.”

“Hello Marinette,” she said, smiling.

There was an instant of silence.  She glanced at the stalls.  They were all open.  The room was deserted, but for the two of them.

Perfect.

“Back in the same bathroom,” said Marinette, “and I imagine you’ve come to threaten me.”

“Mmm…  Something like that,” said Lila, smiling.

“But I can’t help but notice, you still haven’t made good on your plans to leave me alone and friendless.”

Lila shrugged.  “It’s on my schedule.  Actually, it’s… penciled in for today.”

“Oh, I see,” said Marinette. “And… You expect me to believe you even can?  See, that’s the bit I don’t get.”

“Oh really,” said Lila, growing rapidly more insulted by the audible confidence in Marinette’s voice.

“Really.  Everyone here knows me.  Maybe they won’t easily believe you’re a liar, but they already know that I’m not.  The worst they could assume is that I’m confused.  That’s the problem with lying.  It only takes one slip-up.”

She laughed.  “But Marinette, I don’t slip.”

Marinette laughed back. “Really?  You’ve slipped up plenty.  You switched which side your tinnitus was on.  You were grasping at straws to make me the villain for throwing a napkin, and the part where you didn’t even check where Prince Ali was before saying you were at his palace?”

“Are you offering critiques, Marinette?”

“No.  I’m just reminding you how close some of your lies have come to unmasking you.”

“And do you know why they haven’t?”

Marinette’s head tilted, her expression still guarded, but clearly interested.

“Well… I’ll tell you. And… Consider it a parting gift.  I told you that I tell people what they want to hear.  As long as I’m around, they get to live their dreams.  Alya gets the interview of a lifetime for the Ladyblog, Nino gets a contact in the music industry, and… Well, soon enough, Sabrina gets a better master, Chloe gets no more of you, and I’ve got more, for the rest of the class. Did you know that I’ve got a few legislative contacts that I can ask to push for environmental reform?  Mylene and Ivan do, now.  I was trained as an art critic, and the entire art club is hanging on my every, encouraging, word.  Do you get it now?”

She was grinning wide, now.  “Nobody wants to think about whether I’m a liar or not, because if I’m a liar, then all of those lovely dreams vanish.”  She laughed. “And if they press a bit too hard, well, the congressman didn’t want to listen, and the record label my contact worked for went bankrupt, oh if only they’d had your music, it would have saved them, Nino…”  She laughed, again.  “And there are only two people that I didn’t get.  Adrien…  Well, if Ladybug hadn’t shown up, he’d want to believe me, too.  And… You, Marinette.”

“Yeah?  What were you going to tempt me with?”

She shrugged.  “I hadn’t decided.  The only thing you wanted was already going to be mine.  And that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?  You want me to be a liar, as much as anything, because if I’m not, then Adrien has no reason not to like me, and where does that leave you?”  Midway through the sentence, Marinette had gone pale, and Lila couldn’t have been happier about it.  “You would be… Alone, and heartbroken.  When it comes down to it, Adrien is your biggest weakness, for all he’s the reason you won’t believe me.”

Marinette took a deep breath, as if steadying herself, and then…  “So… You’re, what, planning to use Adrien against me?  When he already knows he shouldn’t listen to you?”

Lila laughed.  “Shouldn’t and won’t are two different things, Marinette; you should already know that.  Sure, the fact that he knows would slow me down, but I practically have a standing invitation at his house, and if I tell Adrien you’re not to be trusted often enough, he’ll start to listen, whether he wants to or not.”

She laughed at the way Marinette’s teeth gritted.

“But… That would take too long, and in the meantime, who know what you’d do with the rest of the class. If anything, I’d save that for later, so that if he ever sees you again, he’ll refuse to talk to you.”

“If he ever sees me again?”

“Of course.  And, more to the point, if that were my plan, I wouldn’t tell you until it was already too late.  That’s one of the most important rules, right alongside never telling people who you hate most.”

“All this talk, but you have yet to give me one good reason to think that you’re not just trying to scare me.”

She laughed.  “Oh, Marinette, always so confident. Well, it’s like I say, you always wait until it’s too late before you tell someone what your plan is.”

She shrugged, lightly. “So, for example…” she reached into her pocket, and pulled out a pencil, sharpened to an unnerving point.

Marinette blinked, and then, registering what it was, her eyes widened.  She met Lila’s eyes.  “You’re… Going to try to kill me?”

“Oh… Well, I could, obviously, but, then I’m the girl who killed her classmate.  It doesn’t reflect well on me.  Besides, you probably wouldn’t put up enough of a fight for me to claim self-defense.  Even if you did, it wouldn’t exactly reflect well on me.  No, you’ll be walking away from this, but the next school you set foot in won’t be this one.”

She turned the point backwards, and let the lead lightly tap her left forearm.

“That is… if there’s a school that would take the girl who assaulted her classmate unprovoked.  Like I said, you never let anyone know who you hate.  As far as anyone’s concerned, your hatred of me just makes me sad, and I would never try to frame you for something.”

Marinette exhaled, gently, staring at the pencil.  “Lila, there’s something wrong with you.”

Lila grinned.  “What can I say?  I like winning.  You put up a fight, but… Let me give you a look at the immediate future…  There’s a scream from the bathroom.  I come running out, a few nasty jabs in my forearm.  I was talking to you in the bathroom, and something I said must have made you angry.  Suddenly, you’re rushing forward with a pencil, and I barely escape.  I find a teacher.  ‘Oh, not Marinette!’ everyone says, but… Who else?  They know I wouldn’t do something like this, and everyone knows you didn’t like me. It must have been you.  There’s not much evidence, but it’s enough.  You go to jail, maybe prison, and,” she giggled,  “The most important part is, you never come back to this school again.”

Marinette swallowed.  “Not much evidence is right.  You think they wouldn’t check for fingerprints?  I’ve never touched it.”

Lila scoffed.  “I guess you don’t recognize your own favorite brand of pencil?  And… I know it’s your favorite brand of pencil, because I took this during 3rd period.  Trust me, Marinette, I might let a few details slip on the less important ones, but I came up with this little plan years ago, for…  Well, I suppose you should be honored.  You’re the first person who’s made it worth it.”

“I… Yeah, fine.  I’m honored, I… Guess.  Still, I’d advise you not to do it,” said Marinette.

“And why’s that?”

“Press 1 to save message.”  The voice was small, but it had come from Marinette’s jacket… Where she’d put her phone.

“Because it still wouldn’t work,” said Marinette, pulling the phone from her jacket, “You really should have seen this one coming.”

No.  She’d… Been ready, already?  She needed to stop Marinette from- she pressed the button.

She should, what, attack? Stab herself, like she’d planned?

“Nino had it right, on his anniversary… If you really want to surprise someone, you make their plan part of your plan.  Now.  Put the pencil away.”

She was hyperventilating, her mind wordless, scrambling for something, anything to get her out of this.  Marinette was bluffing.  But why would she fake it if she could do it for real?  Marinette wasn’t bluffing, but…  But…

She could say they’d been practicing.  There was a play they’d wanted to do, and Marinette had set the script up as a false confession and… But, even with everything she was capable of, it was Marinette’s word against hers, and everything she’d said, every little confession, and there was no script to produce.  There was no backup plan.  There was… There was nothing.

Hands to her face, desperately searching for something, she barely noticed Marinette pass her. She didn’t even think to stab. And then she was alone, the bathroom barely a thought.  The world crumbled away around her.

She couldn’t.

She just… Couldn’t.

--

Even victorious, as she certainly was, Marinette couldn’t be happy.  Of all things, she was scared.  It had been too close.  If she hadn’t been ready, Lila would have done it, and the day would have gone so differently.

But she hadn’t.  She hadn’t.  It hadn’t happened.

It hadn’t happened.

Of course, Lila had said enough about Adrien that… He must know, now, but right now, against every instinct she’d had, that didn’t matter right now.

Marinette took a breath, desperately trying to compose herself.  It was fine.  The message had gone through.  Adrien would have it now, and if it had worked as she’d meant it to…

She walked into the classroom.

Alya and Nino looked up at her, seemingly as worried as she was.

Adrien, behind them, nodded, simply.

“I,” she shrugged.  “I don’t know.  She’s… A liar.”

“I…” said Alya, and swallowed, “I’m sorry.  I should have…”  She groaned. “I should have checked, or-

“Don’t be sorry.  She knows how to lie.  You heard her, right?  She makes you not want to check.”

She sat down, and practically collapsed into the chair.

“And… That bit at the end,” said Nino.  “She was going to…”

“Stab herself, just to frame me,” said Marinette.

“So…  What now?” said Alya.

“Now… We make sure everyone knows.  It’s not their fault they believed her, but they need to know the truth.  They need to know what she did, what she was planning… Everything.”

“Alright,” said Adrien. “Then the sooner we get to work, the better.  The less time she has to react, the less chance she finds some way to wriggle out of it.”

“Dude,” said Nino, the most unnerved Marinette had ever seen him, “how is she supposed to get out of it? There’s nobody in the whole school who wouldn’t believe that.  If they hear that recording, it’s over for her.  She’d have to delete it from Adrien’s phone, and even then, as long as we remembered it, we could probably convince people, if we worked together.”

Delete the recording. Make it not have happened.  Make people forget.

Marinette looked up, staring out the window.

Tears welled up in her eyes, not of sadness but…

They were the tears of someone who had, say, found themselves hanging above a pit, from a rope that was fraying to quickly for there to be any chance of escape.

Tears, in short, of impending doom.  Fear.

“Oh no.”

[kalinahugtype2]

Interview with a Graduate

Abbey Hoerchner

1. Are you working on any big projects at the moment?

We have been working on our NBA All-Star Campaign - with a big push for social and web graphics to get votes for Giannis, Khris and Bledsoe. We also had been pushing “Let Pat Dunk” to campaign for Pat Connaughton to get into the dunk contest for All-Star weekend - this was through both graphics and even t-shirt designs. We are also already thinking ahead to what our Playoff look will be come April - it is usually an edgier spin off our our regular season look. Lastly, the Bucks have an Esports gaming team for the NBA 2K League (video game). They draft 6 players who get paid a salary, receive benefits, have their housing paid for, and fly to NYC each week for their games. I am currently designing the look for their Season 3 Campaign - this includes their Draft graphics, Gameday graphics progression (Matchup Motion Graphic, Starting Lineup Motion Graphic, Live Now Motion Graphic, Half-Time Score Static Graphic, Player Stat Highlight Static Graphic, Final Score Static Graphic, Victory Motion Graphic), any general announcement graphics, etc. that will end up on social media. 

2. What is your intent as designer?

I focus on capturing the attention of, engaging, and holding the interest of fans/followers. An obvious secondary intent is to efficiently and effectively organize information that is easy for the viewer to decipher. 

3. How do you use design to positively impact a community? 

At the Bucks, we had a large focus on building up the Deer District, the area around the arena, and getting the Milwaukee community to see it as a revitalized place that they want to spend time at. We focused on creating graphics that promoted the plaza, and highlighted the different restaurants and establishments, to ultimately bring people together. 

4. In what way do you think students at UWM can use design to strengthen the culture in Milwaukee?

I think there may be opportunities to showcase neighborhoods, areas, events, etc that aren’t always heavily promoted whether digital or print. I think using class as a time for research and production is great, however I wonder still if there is a way to push research, ideas, designs (especially connected with Milwaukee culture/geography) further into the public than within the UWM network. 

5. Is there anything you wish you had known prior to graduating?

Connecting with #8 below - the faster pace of design in the workplace would have helped my transition more immediately. I also work in Photoshop daily for actually creating digital graphics and I was not extremely efficient in that program, based on the high focus in upper-level DVC classes on InDesign and Illustrator. 

6. Do you have any tips and/or words of encouragement for current design students?

One tip would be to get comfortable talking about your work, be confident in why you did what you did and be able to clearly explain it. In the workplace you may have a client (in my case another department) that doesn’t really understand what we do or why we do it. In these cases, it is imperative to be able to clearly articulate design reasoning. Be thorough in the design process from ideation to final product - it will help you in the long run figure out what process works best for you to get the strongest design. Along with this, I would say to push the boundaries and explore the possibilities of a design. Go out of the box and you can always reign it back in after review/critique. There could be something you tried that maybe could work as an idea for a future project. I would highly encourage students to get a design internship while still in school (ideally one that you can get paid AND get credit). I stumbled upon my internship with the Bucks during my final semester of school. As a Women’s Soccer athlete at UWM, I knew I was passionate about athletics, so was intrigued about practicing design in a sports industry. I think for others who don’t know which specific industry they would like to practice in, getting internships while still in school and with different companies (whether sports, ad agency, other companies) will help you decide what specific industry you are passionate about. If you think you may be interested in Motion Graphics/Animation - take the class while still in school. I ended up finding this was the focus of design I became most passionate about, as it mixes up the creation of static graphics. While I was interning at the Bucks, I was also taking the Motion Graphics class at UWM. At that time, there was not anyone at the Bucks who knew the program, so I started elevating some graphics by using simple animation. After interning, I continued to grow my Motion Graphics skills and from there became a Multi-Media Designer, working in Adobe After Effects daily. Along with static graphics, I also create many animations that go on social media and a lot of content that runs on the LED boards inside the bowl during games (crowd prompts, matchups, sponsored content, themed animations, etc).

7. What do you feel are important resources to consult during the design process?

Specific to my role at the Bucks - I do a lot of visual auditing of other teams to see what they are doing. I don’t stay in the realm of the NBA, but look at football, soccer, baseball, etc. When I am doing my research, I am usually looking at their social channels. I also utilize Pinterest and Behance to start ideating. 

8. What are the differences between the professional design climate and the one created at UWM? Do you feel you were prepared for the changes?

I think UWM prepared me very well for a professional design career, especially when thinking about the very thorough design process we go through for each of our classes in school. I think this helped figure out a personal design process that works best for each individual (ie. I still like sketching ideas/layouts out, even if they are very rough….but there are other designers who go digital right away). 

One big difference that I had to get acclimated to was the fast pace for a lot of projects at the Bucks. This may be due to the professional sports industry. With some special player announcement graphics, we may have to create something within the hour. Some information design graphics may have to be done in a day. On the other hand, there could also be a logo design that you have a few days to ideate, sketch and digitize before reviewing.

  9. Beyond the finished product, what is the most important part of being a designer? 

For me, I think an important part is still getting the face-to-face contact with whoever you are designing a project for, especially when it is for another department. For many projects, we could sit behind a screen, design a few iterations, send via email and continue that process until a final design is approved. I am a people person and like social interaction during my work day, therefore if I am able to chat with the individual before starting, or take an iteration over to them to discuss in-person, I will! I think this offers me a better perspective on what their ultimate vision for the project is. 

[wheeler80wheeler-blog]

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TLJ Novelization: Review & Revisiting Episode IX Speculation

I’ll be honest: I skim-read a lot of Jason Fry’s novelization. 

It’s not the worst SW book, not by a long shot. But I wasn’t drawn in by his writing, an unfair critique, perhaps, given that nothing was going to be surprising. It’s very rote, though, and there were times when his prose wandered surprisingly close to boredom, bafflement, or both. Needless to say, what really disappointed me was the lackluster depiction of Rey and Kylo and some of their scenes together. Take, for example, this description of the closing Falcon scene between Rey and Kylo:

He stared at Rey. She stared back at him, her gaze level and unafraid. There was no hatred in her eyes, as there once had been. But there was no compassion, either.

I’m aware that there are some Reylos currently swooning over this even as other Reylos are mortified at what the “no compassion” bit could really portend. But read it again. 

Read it out loud. 

It is the most dispassionate description of how that scene played out onscreen, does not even come close to capturing the emotional weight behind that moment. 

If that doesn’t convince you or you think I’m being too harsh, there’s also this:

Rey fell backward, bumping into Kylo’s back.

You know what scene that is, right? 

Bumping. Into his back. O.M.G.

The misfire in translating Rey and Kylo’s simmering-to-boiling screen chemistry from screen to paper was bound to be inevitable. But I take heart in knowing that this had to be intentional: its absence speaks to the desire to keep their story unknown and suspended. In other words, it’s a way to keep their dynamic relevant for the next two years. It also solidifies the fact that the romance of Reylo will continue to be quite distinct from the sudden war time passion of HanLeia or the childishly baffling obsession of Anidala, just in case that wasn’t already obvious. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that, much like the TFA novelization, this one could be skipped over in lieu of actually watching the movie, which is A) way more exciting and B) way more successful at the nuance, which was one of its strengths. Of course, we should also remember that whatever happens in the film is unquestionably canon, regardless of conflicting details in the expanded content. There’s cute little Easter egg-type details (ships have personalities, for example) and passages not seen in the movie that Reylos created head-canons for anyway (such as why Rey left an unconscious Kylo alive). Overall, this novel is about as good as one could expect from someone other than Rian Johnson himself adapting his own script. But that’s to be expected, and this must have been a great challenge. I do think what this book best has to offer is a reiteration of the theme of perspective ambiguity.

Alright, that’s done. Now, I’m going to revisit an Episode IX speculation post I did (X) in December, because I read quite a few quotes in the novelization that were particularly relevant to what I speculated on for Hux, Kylo, and the foreshadowing of a power play between them. 

Take Hux Seriously

What I said:

Hux was played up for comedic effect in TLJ, but it’s somewhat undermined by examples of real leadership, engagement with fellow, high-ranking FO officers, and the distinct feeling that this man is more cunning than you think. That’s not to say that Hux will hit epic levels of villainy; but he will most assuredly continue to be an antagonist to Kylo and, with Snoke’s murder, he will now have a justified reason for being so.

What the novelization said:

Commander of the Supremacy would be an excellent title��surpassed only by that of Supreme Leader Hux. Hux almost whispered those three words to himself, but caught himself in time. Snoke had spies everywhere in the First Order—including, quite possibly, electronic ones in the turbolift leading to his private domain at the Supremacy’s heart.

Comments

First of all, here is written proof of Hux’s lofty, ultimate ambitions. (Again, in case that wasn’t obvious in the film.) Second, we also now have the knowledge that Snoke takes advantage of stealth security. The reason that it’s “possible” he has cameras installed in his private elevator is because he makes use of “electronic spies” elsewhere. This begs the question: if something as innocuous as an elevator is bugged, then surely his throne room, his private room, is similarly outfitted, right? 

There’s no way Kylo will be able to keep the truth of his ascension a secret. No way.

Dirt for a Smear Campaign

What I said:

Aside from the fact that he’s basically in charge of the FO military, Hux could go after Kylo with a smear campaign by revealing his true identity. Of course, this hinges on whether the galaxy at large knows that Kylo Ren of the First Order is Ben Solo, son of rebel Generals Leia Organa and Han Solo. Evidence points to the negative:

-Poe seems unaware of Kylo’s relation to his revered general, both in TFA and TLJ -Han and Leia speak about Ben in a hushed, private conversation in TFA; they never speak his name aloud (though mostly, of course, to withhold information for dramatic effect) -barely anyone in the FO is shown wanting to make eye contact with Kylo Ren; I doubt they know anything personal about him -Finn clearly has no idea

What the novelization said:

Poe studied the two figures standing in front of the command shuttle for a long moment. “This isn’t just a family reunion,” he told the remaining Resistance fighters. “Skywalker’s doing this for a reason. He’s stalling so we can escape.”

“Escape?” Finn asked, incredulous. “He’s one man against an army. We have to go help him! We have to fight!”

Leia joined them, trailed as always by C-3PO. She and Poe exchanged glances.

“No,” Poe said. “We are the spark that will light the fire that will burn down the First Order.”

Had some member of the Resistance opted to commit suicide in dramatic fashion? Amused, he glanced over at Ren—and whatever he had been going to say died on his lips. Because the new Supreme Leader looked like he was staring down at a ghost.

Comments

Because there is no written shock or surprise from the Resistance fighters after Poe’s statement, this means that Kylo’s relationship to Leia is actually common knowledge, at least among her ranks. The subsequent lines with Leia and Finn further demonstrate how inconsequential this information is: Leia isn’t currently trying to hide it, nor has she in the past evidently. After the events in Bloodline, maybe she decided not to hide her truths from her colleagues and close allies again. 

Hux, on the other hand, can’t even identify Luke Skywalker let alone understand why Kylo is so shaken by his appearance. That Finn is more “incredulous” at Poe’s deduction about Luke than he is about Poe’s reference to Luke’s family connections means the latter is not a surprise to him either. So, how could a Stormtrooper know that Kylo is a Skywalker yet the high-ranking FO officer who reinvigorated the Stormtrooper program doesn’t? A reasonable answer is that Finn learned about it at some point in TFA before Starkiller Base.

However, Leia’s close comrades knowing about her son doesn’t necessarily mean that the galaxy at large knows. Otherwise, how could Hux not know? To be fair, I don’t know how she contained that information from ruthless politicians and prevented it from becoming a weapon against her for a second time. But I guess Leia figured it out.

No Fit Leader

What I said:

Only consider how badly a secret identity, one with close ties to the enemy, would threaten Kylo’s position within the FO:

“Kylo Ren is a New Republic and Resistance sympathizer, a double agent and traitor! He is the son of rebel scum, but not just any dirty rebel: he’s the son of Leia Organa, the most dogged enemy of the Empire and First Order! At her behest, he aided and abetted a Jedi in the assassination of Supreme Leader Snoke, and then allowed her to escape! He has seized power in order to restore the Republic!”

Kylo’s visible instability on Crait could only have made a poor impression on the FO military, hitherto shown to be highly ordered and rigidly structured, if nothing else. And I’m not just talking about his gross waste of FO resources for, what, 40 rebels in a crumbling base, but also on a single man who turned out to be, well, a freaking wizard! Imagine following someone like that, putting your trust and loyalty into someone so obviously unhinged and undone?

What the novelization said:

Hux looked at Ren’s face and saw terror—naked and undisguised. That fear meant weakness—and opportunity.

The First Order had thrived despite Snoke’s weakness for mystical nonsense, but that was because Snoke had kept himself largely shrouded from view, letting his directives speak for him. Ren had never been so wise. He was incapable of it—a slave to his emotions. That wouldn’t do in a Supreme Leader. It would endanger all Hux and his technologists had created. Well, Hux wouldn’t allow that. And the more delusions Ren suffered, the easier it would be to arrange for him to be sidelined and eliminated.

Comments

Hux is providing commentary on the fact that the First Order will not accept Kylo; a fearful, uncertain leader is no fit leader. Futhermore, Kylo is trained in Jedi and Sith ways—“sorcerery” as Hux (and undoubted others) constantly calls Force powers. After the forthcoming, highly visible display of “sorcerers’” ways, no wonder Hux feels confident in his position; in contrast to Kylo’s horrid display, Snoke had maintained his “man behind the curtain” persona and in that way was able to gather and consolidate power. In a one-on-one situation, Hux could never overpower Kylo. That’s never been questioned. So, this is where Hux’s strategic cunning comes into play, along with the implied camera recordings, which could include recordings that reveal Kylo’s true identity as the last Skywalker, especially now that Snoke is not alive to prevent someone from snooping through his (likely) throne room security footage.

One thing to note is that the novelization does not mention the ^Look^ Hux gives Kylo in the abandoned Crait base. In the book, Hux is not even apparently part of the landing party. One could argue, then, that all of this time spent on Hux and his ambition are for the express purpose of explaining the meaning behind that Look. It is evidence that is not so much foreshadowing as it is confirming.

Fugitive Life

What I said:

Hux may initiate an arrest or even an assassination, which Kylo escapes. After his escape, Hux puts out the smear campaign as well as a bounty, making Kylo a wanted fugitive of the FO. As a fugitive, I think the second half of the movie will find Kylo on his journey to self-discovery and self-reconciliation. It would also be an opportunity to visit different worlds within the Star Wars galaxy, some so far removed from the political feuding that Kylo will be able to find that inner peace and resolve he needs. 

What the novelization said:

Finn had dreamed of convincing her to join him somewhere in the wilds of the Outer Rim, where the First Order could never find them. The First Order would never stop hunting the Resistance until it was destroyed, but two fugitives might have a chance to escape its notice and create a life for themselves on some quiet backwater world.

Comments

OK, yes, I’m using Finn’s wishful thinking to support my own fugitive Kylo theory. It applies very well to Finn’s story arc and his habit of dealing with the FO by running away from it. But I think it could be taken as foreshadowing for Kylo as well, because one of the main concerns about Kylo’s redemption revolves around atonement. People have suggested exile (one I personally find regressive) and death, of course. Kylo’s been running from his past, like Finn, But he actually needs to run from the ideologies that have smothered him his whole life and come into his own, as Finn did.

Final Comments

Going back to what I said at the top of this post—about the novelization doing a decent job of underscoring perspective ambiguity—here’s what I mean:

Yago would endure Hux just as Peavey had—because both men knew the general wouldn’t last. He would undoubtedly succeed at destroying the remnants of the Resistance, and bask in the glory of that accomplishment for a time. But then the real challenges would begin. […] And sooner or later, Hux would be undone, revealed as an incompetent officer and an intemperate leader. […] Hux was a revolutionary, full of fire and fervor, but revolutionaries’ seasons were fleeting.

I was pretty naïve about how his comrades in arms feel about him. For all the confidence Hux has in himself, apparently his fellow officers lack faith in him. Like Yago and Peavey (the officer shown to be at Hux’s right hand in the film), the veteran Captain Canady of the Dreadnought Fulminatrix is similarly disdainful of Hux and the other young people around him. None of these officers seem to have faith in the younger generation, which represents the future, and that implies that the veterans might not have much hope for the future of their cause. Will this result in in-fighting?

It seems more than likely that Episode IX will highlight the ideological war because, as things stand, it lacks a clear cut Big Bad; we thought Snoke would be this trilogy’s Big Bad to the Emperor’s OT Big Bad. Keep in mind that the New Republic (the good side) is virtually gone, blown out of the galaxy. If there is in-fighting or mutinies within the fledgling FO (the evil side), whose leadership was so recently destroyed and quickly usurped by an unstable “sorcerer”, then might the FO simply destroy itself? Will the galaxy then be free to re-start, in a way? Or is that too simple? Sometimes, the answers to complicated questions are simple.

And speaking of that “sorcerer”, the perspective ambiguity rears its head again:

And then there was his most glaring failure of all: his inability or unwillingness to use his power to redirect the course of his own destiny.

Rey had learned that the Force was not her instrument—that, in fact, it was the other way around. Just as Kylo was its instrument, despite his determination to bend it to his will. He would learn that one day, she sensed—the Force wasn’t finished with him.

I mean, what is up, what is down?

In the beginning of the novel, Snoke knows that Kylo has an “inability” or “unwillingness” to use his power to control his destiny. At the end, Rey believes Kylo is “determined” to use his power to control the Force. There’s an arc here—Rian Johnson’s comment about Kylo “the villain, standing on his own two feet at the end” comes to mind (X). You might think this sounds ominous for the hope that Ben Solo will be redeemed. But, in the movie, we left him downcast on the floor of an abandoned base and now, in the novel, Rey’s addendum, her sense that Kylo will someday recognize himself as an instrument of the Force, almost blatantly foreshadows Ben Solo’s redemption.

Which is the big roundabout way of me saying that this novelization isn’t a complete waste of trees.

[runicmagitek]

Hello there! Thank you for taking the time to read this. I've long been an admirer of your work. I was wondering if you had any advice on writing? Especially for someone just new to writing? Or, like, in regards to outlining stories?

Why can’t I give hugs through the internet why. Thank you so much for such sweet words and I apologize for the wait. I spent the past couple of days concocting some writing advice for you and it turned into a thing. Hope it’s worth the wait!

I want to preface this: below is my writing process. It works for me. It may not work for all writers and I highly encourage others to figure out what does work for them. It took me several years to come to this conclusion, so don’t be discouraged if everything doesn’t click for you. Writing takes time to develop and we all learn and create differently. Try things out and see if it’s beneficial.

Also, while I know you asked specifically for writing and outlining tips for beginners, I am including editing tips. A lot of people might view writing and editing in a different light, but I believe that they go hand-in-hand; getting used to editing will help you become a better writer and vice versa. I know countless people who bang out stories and then let the drafts collect dust, because editing is daunting.

Lastly, a massive shout-out to my partner-in-crime, beta reader, and braintwin—Amie @wingsyouburn . She helped contribute to and refine this and is also a brilliant writer and has helped me become the writer I am today. Endless thanks to you, bb!

On that note, let’s jump right into this.

OUTLINING

I can’t write without some vague idea of where I’m going. It’s like having a map with you on a road trip; you might deviate from your route along the way due to pit stops or traffic or simply wanting to go the scenic route, but you at least know where your end goal is. And it can vary depending on what you’re writing. If I have a oneshot idea, maybe I jot down a sentence or two about the plot, usually with a “problem” and then a “conclusion”. For example: Character A is doubting herself and decides to vent to Character B, who offers comfort and kisses. Sometimes I jot these down if I have an idea hits me at work or in line at a café. You can always refer back to it later on. Filling in the blanks of said outline is where the fun of writing comes in!

Even for my drabbles, I will write very brief sentences of what I imagine would happen. It helps me stay concise and stick to that main point instead of meandering.

For longer pieces, I try to write out each scene I want to include. Some people I know do this by writing on notecards. I used to make a bullet list, but now I use Scrivener to map outlines. With a bullet list, you can do it like this:

Scene 1

Scene 2

Scene 3

Scene 4

It doesn’t need to be extremely thorough. Just get those ideas out of your head and onto paper. You can always go back and switch up the order later and if you don’t entirely know what would happen in a scene, but for example, you know the end result? You can easily write something like, “a bunch of shit hits the fan and then the gang run off into the sunset.” Maybe when you start writing, you’ll have a better idea of what shit hitting the fan includes. And when you do figure it out, go back to your outline and make a bullet under that particular scene with the details. I’ve done this plenty of times. Hell, I have an outline for a 200k story I did where the last 1/3 of the outline just never happened in my draft. A better idea came along and I went with that. And that’s ok!

Your outline is there to help you and not hurt you. It’s flexible and bare minimum, when you’re done with a story, you can look back on it and see how much you’ve evolved since your initial idea.

WRITING

Consume art. Read. Read some more. Keep reading. Watch a movie. Go to a museum. Take a walk at the park. Listen to music. So many things inspire people and the tiniest instances can spark an idea for a story. Always be open to them. Figure out what you love and what you don’t. Consume both of those. Inspiration can come even from genres we don’t particularly like. Don’t be afraid of something new. When I was in art school, we were required to take non-major studio classes. I ended up in a weaving class, filled with other textile students when all I ever knew was graphic design. I learned a tremendous amount in that semester to carry over into my graphic design work and I’m sure my peers learned a lot from me, too. That concept carries over into so many creative fields. Embrace that.

Also, if you’re the type that benefits from reading books about writing, here are some A+ resources:

On Writing by Stephen King

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg

No Plot? No Problem! by Chris Baty

The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron

Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury

Take care of yourself first. This tip simultaneously has nothing and everything to do with writing. For me, I have a handful of health issues. I work a full-time job. I have a ton of other hobbies that eat up my time. Before I write, I need to make sure I’m doing well before I even bother to sit in front of my laptop. I can’t be overly stressed out or in pain or distracted. Sometimes you need to calm down and relax and not write. I can’t focus otherwise and the few times I did write when I clearly shouldn’t have? It was evident in my writing and thus triple the amount of editing work. I know it’s stressful not being able to write. Trust me… I’ve been there numerous times. But I believe that in the long run, you’ll be happier with yourself and your writing if you learn to treat yourself with respect and not beat yourself up when you’re unable to write every waking minute.

Set times to write and then do it. Some people might have inspiration strike them and that’s the only time they write. Yes, that can be helpful, but there’s also something to be said about developing a schedule and sticking to it, even if you’re not motivated. So you’ve done everything mentioned above: your tummy’s full, no one is around to bother you, you got a delicious cup of something beside you, it’s your favorite weather outside, and you’re in your favorite chair. But you’re staring at your monitor and just… uuuuuugh you don’t feel motivated. You know what? Fuck it. Just write. Write something. Anything. 75% of my writing was done out of the sheer willpower. Write! Even if it’s a page, so what?! That’s a page more than what you initially started out with! Squeezing in some scribbles on your lunch break every day can add up by the end of the week. Those 30 minute sessions are suddenly 2 ½ hours!

Again during my art school days, I would be up until 4am trying to do 40 posters in time for the morning’s critique and I’d be on those last 3 poster designs and I was tired with no inspiration and ran out of fucks at 11pm, but I pushed through. You know what? My teachers and peers alike loved those 3 designs I did at fuck-this-shit o’clock. I’m serious. Every single time.

Start writing and never look back. This is your time to write. Not to edit, not to try and craft the perfect sentence Of All Time. You’re writing. You are word vomiting whatever nonsense is in your head. It’s a first draft. It’s going to be messy. It’s probably going to be shit. Who the hell cares? That doesn’t mean you or your writing is shit. Everybody, even the most seasoned writer, doesn’t write a perfect first draft and you can’t fix what isn’t written. So write, write, write! Smack your inner editor each time it tells you to go back and edit a paragraph. Disable your wifi if you think you’ll get distracted. For me, I put on some quiet, ambient music to drown out the world and go into Scrivener’s full-screen mode. I highly recommend checking libraries in your area if you want some quiet time. The librarians are also way more than happy to show you where designated quiet/study areas are if you’re not sure.

Write what YOU want to write about. Don’t write something just because it’s popular and that’s what everyone else is doing. Do it for yourself first and foremost. It doesn’t need to be for everyone, but let it be for you. It will show tremendously in your writing if you’re excited about a thing. Likewise, it’s beyond evident if you’re bored with a scene in your story. Write about what excites you and I promise your writing will display that excitement. On the same note, if you’re stuck on a scene and just don’t know what to do with it, move along. Maybe that scene isn’t needed. Skip to the next, more interesting thing. Write the story you want to read.

Incorporate your experiences. The expression “write what you know” gets tossed around with the assumption that people will go, “Ooooooh, yeah that makes sense.” Think on all your life experiences and draw upon them. You may not be the commanding officer of a prestigious military, but maybe you’ve been in a group project in school where someone needed to step up as leader in order to get shit done in time for the oral presentation. Remember your emotions during times of struggle, elation, anger, and sadness. Channel it into your writing.  

Write in chronological order. Some people have mastered the art of writing that one middle scene they’re super stoked about or writing random scenes out of time and then stitching it together later. I am not one of those people. For a beginner, it might be less daunting to write everything in chronological order. That way you can build up things like character development/growth and tension and so forth in a natural way via passing time. If you start writing a scene where the main pairing finally kiss, but don’t write the ten chapters leading up to that, it’s a lot more difficult to flesh out all that tension in one scene when you hadn’t written it yet. I’m also of the opinion that it’s better to write all the things before that One Scene you’re giddy about; it can speed up the writing process because you want to arrive at that One Scene, so hey, anything to motivate you, ya know?

EDITING

After I wrote my first novel draft after years of not writing, I had this massive feeling of, “…shit, now what?” For every single guide to editing, there’s a hundred more for writing. Editing is an extremely personal process. It took me over two years before I became comfortable with editing my own work. Let’s be honest – it’s terrifying. And I wish there was a more concise guide about it when I first started, so hopefully this helps.

I edit in rounds. My first round involves just reading, no editing. I keep a journal to take notes, mostly plot, characterization, redundancies, and cuts/additions I’d want to make. My second round combs through it to fix those bigger problems along with any glaring grammar/spelling errors and mild line edits. I will send it to a beta to read after that for additional commentary/suggestions. My third round addresses all of that on top of hardcore line edits—I want every damn sentence to be the best version of that sentence ever. One more time it goes back to the beta to nitpick the hell out of it. And my last round is spent reading what I wrote out loud. If my tongue trips over anything, I change it. Apply some spit and polish, give it some lunch and a backpack, and then off to AO3 it goes to make some new friends.

Maybe you edit in less or more rounds. Maybe you have more rounds of sending content to beta readers. Maybe you need to rewrite the whole thing three times before it ever sees a beta reader. Do what feels good to you. Only you will be able to figure it out and you won’t know until you try. I promise once you get your feet wet and test it out, you’ll feel more confident about your writing over time.

Here are some more specific tips that no one ever bothered to tell me until after the fact. These might be overwhelming for a beginner, so don’t feel the need to master these immediately. Take it one step at a time and try them when you are comfortable doing so.

Walk away from it. After finishing a first draft, let it sit. Go do something else and forget about your draft. For oneshots, I’ll go back to it after a week. For longer pieces, anywhere between 2-4 weeks. Returning to a draft with rested eyes and a fresh mind will only benefit you in the editing process. You’re still two inches away from your work when you finish the first draft. Walk away from it, come back, and then you can see more, whether it be the strong points or the holes.

Describe what is happening, not how something looks/sounds/feels. I’m sure you’ve heard of “show, don’t tell.” First off, fuck that noise when writing the first draft. Tell to your heart’s content if it means getting it on the damn page. Second off, sometimes telling can be helpful. That’s up to you to decide if it’s beneficial or harmful to your story. I typically go about “show, don’t tell” in the editing phase. Now most people will give this advice and not further explain. So here’s an example:

She was mad at him for once again not doing the dishes.

That’s not a terrible sentence. Though it to make it pack more oomph, take a step back and think. When you’re mad, what do you do? Are you clenching your jaw? Are you grumbling to yourself? Is a headache forming? And when you imagine dishes not done, what does that look like to you? Is it flies swarming around a sink? Is it overflowing from the sink? Is the sponge sitting in five day old water and reeking of mold? Is there a broken dish on the floor because a cat decided to knock it off from the stack of twenty uncleaned dishes? With that in mind, the sentence can possibly be rewritten like this:

Countless plates and silverware wobbled on one another, each encrusted with a previous night’s dinner. She drew a breath, balled up her fists, and glared at him. “Really? I gave you one job.”

Find your descriptions that are comprised of the character feeling or seeing or hearing something and reword them. Breathe life into your words. Make them paintings. I know, it’s not easy. It might even break your brain a little (mine did when I first gave this a serious go), but it will make you think differently and your writing can only grow from that.

Rephrase weaker words. I once had this assignment back in high school where we were given a hundred sentences, each one with “get” in the mix, and we had to rewrite all of them with a unique word replacing “get”. Find words like “get” and forms of “to be” and replace them with stronger words. Something like he got out of bed can turn into he rose out of bed or he jumped out of bed or he slumped out of bed. It rids the sentence of something weak and is more descriptive of what’s going on.

Another thing to look out for are verbs ending in “-ing”. She started walking over or she was walking on over aren’t as direct as she walked over. Trimming out instances like this help make the action more immediate instead of feeling like it’s going or starting or beginning to happen. Just let it happen!

Adverbs are another instance that people will suggest to cut out. They’re at least easy to find (most end in –ly) and when you do spot them, ask yourself this: is there a better word to sum up what I’m trying to express? Something like she said quietly can be she whispered or she murmured or she mumbled. Or something like they ran quickly can be they rushed or they sprinted or they booked it. These all can help get a better idea of what is going on. Plus it can help strengthen your vocabulary by searching for more ideal words!

If your vocab is shaky or you just can’t pinpoint something better, here’s a resource I use all the time. Just remember: always double check the definition of the word to make sure it fits instead of spinning the thesaurus wheel and picking at random.

Lastly, don’t feel the need to go on a witch hunt to purge your story of all of these things. Sometimes it’s best to keep that use of “to be” or that adverb, because there isn’t something better to convey what you’re describing or it distorts the flow of the narrative. And that’s completely okay. It takes time to figure this out.

Cut out redundancies. I tend to overwrite in my first drafts. Editing is where I bust out my figurative chainsaw and kill the extra nonsense. Is there a phrase you keep using over and over? Kill it. Is there a section you read that just bores you to tears? Kill it. Is there a sentence that is proceeded by a paragraph that rephrases that exact sentiment four times? Kill it. Is the process of something we as human beings understand, like opening a door, a three-sentence-long affair? Kill it.

I love poetics in stories and sometimes it can get out of hand. The more concise you are in your delivery, the clearer of a picture you will paint for the readers and the smoother the overall pacing will be.

Never delete. So with all of that in mind, please, for the love of tea and chocolate, never ever delete your work. Doesn’t matter if it’s a conversion from a first to second draft or if you end up hating it, don’t delete it. You never know if you’ll return to it five years down the road or you need to refer back to something from your initial draft when you’re on your third wave of revisions. I keep a folder dedicated to all of my writing on my laptop, which is also backed up to Dropbox. In Scrivener, you can take snapshots of your work for each new draft you start and can always revert back to older snapshots. There’s also an actual editing mode in it, but I believe it’s exclusive to Mac OS. Or if you’re using something simple like Word or Google Docs, make new documents and title them based off of your drafts. Another thing to consider is making a document strictly for lines you love but weren’t able to include in the final version. Don’t get rid of them – keep them. Maybe you revisit it and find a new story for it to fit in or perhaps that lovely line of yours sparks a new story to write. You won’t know if you delete your work.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

Make writer friends. Writing is a solitary activity (well, not unless a pet decides to keep you company, but anyways). Having friends who are also writers or even enthusiastic about writing are a blessing. Bounce ideas off of them or vent to them when you hit a brick wall. Maybe said friends will turn into beta readers when you wish to cross that road. My recent writer friends are people I chatted with on comments with fics, either my own works or their stories. You don’t need to be friends with an entire fandom; find those you resonate with. I’m sure they’ll love gushing about things as much as you do.

And if you ever converse with someone who acts above you and everyone else in regards to writing? Fuck ‘em. They are not and never will be worth your time or anyone else’s.

Keep writing. Like any form of art, writing’s a craft and it will only improve the more you devote time to it. There’s always room for growth. Be humble. Accept change. Allow yourself to learn. I guarantee you that your writing will change for the better in the span of a year if you keep at it. Don’t worry about it being perfect or if it’s telling the “same story” someone else has written—you haven’t written your version of it. You haven’t added your personal touches and experiences and insights to it. Think of how many times Romeo and Juliet has been done in storytelling. People eat it up. To use the cake analogy, you might feel like you’re bringing another cake to the party when there’s already one, but others look at it and go, “FUCK YEAH TWO CAKES!” Lastly, I’ll leave you with a quote from the eternally badass Carrie Fisher, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually the confidence will follow.”

You got this, anon. I believe in you.

[edhayne]

Golden Oldies

On a miserable locked down Thursday in February this year, I turned 36. It’s an unremarkable landmark in normal life, but in Adland it’s a significant one. I was now officially older than the average person working in a UK agency. I then checked the IPA website and realised that I was in fact two years older than the average. It was a tough day made only marginally better by a Caterpillar birthday cake that didn’t come from M&S. Sue me.

I think 34 being the average age is a bonkers stat and along with some of my peers feeling a lot happier after leaving agency life, it did make me question if my days in the industry were numbered.

As ever, I turned to my first love, sport for some much-needed inspiration. Of course, there are painful stories of careers being ended prematurely and athletes growing disillusioned with the state of their profession.

However, it quickly became apparent that after years of retiring off people in their early to mid-30s, recently there’s been a real trend towards ‘older’ professionals continuing to set the standard.

For instance, NFL quarterback Tom Brady won his 7th Super Bowl at the age of 43.

Cristiano Ronaldo became the highest international scorer in football at 36.

Serena Williams and Roger Federer, arguably the two greatest tennis players of all time, are top 10 players, both aged 39 years old.

37-year-old Italian defender Giorgio Chiellini broke English hearts at the Euros and Zlatan Ibrahimović continues to score goals for fun, despite turning 40 in October this year.

Yes, they’ve generally been lucky to avoid serious injuries during their illustrious careers, but along with their invaluable experience, there are reasons why these athletes have remained at the top of their game.

Three in particular standout.

1. Playing to their strengths, not what convention says they should do because they’ve reached a certain age.

2. Their resourcefulness and willingness to embrace new training methods to remain fresh, relevant and at the top of their game.

3. By cross referencing their ongoing achievements, they’ve created a movement that has shifted people’s perceptions of ‘ageing’ athletes.

So, aside from delivering a better work life balance (clearly a huge problem), what would I change about advertising to ensure our industry doesn’t lose its best players when they still have so much to offer?

Encourage and reward people who keep playing:

Becoming a Creative Director isn’t for everyone. Great creative teams should be encouraged to remain great teams by being paid top dollar. I’ve never understood why brilliant Art Directors and Copywriters are advised to stop directly making things. Money comes into it, but perhaps it’s because as a CD you can lay claim to more awards, regardless of your actual involvement. Or because you don’t like others critiquing your work when you get to a certain age. But for every Alex Ferguson or Pep Guardiola there’s a Tony Adams, Thierry Henry or John Barnes. The sporting world is gradually waking up to the fact that great players don’t always make great managers, but in the advertising industry we remain obsessed with job title, rather than paying people handsomely for what they’re best at.

I think my department is quite good at avoiding this trap. The wise ‘old’ Planners tend to remain very hands on and lead by example, rather than being required to ceremoniously uninstall PowerPoint on their 40th birthday. However, we’ve still lost some brilliant thinkers along the way, either to pointless admin meetings that eat up their day or because they don’t fancy being a Head of Strategy or CSO.

Never stop the training:

Unless it’s management or leadership training, in my experience, budget is rarely set aside for seasoned professionals. I’m not sure how wise that is. Why exclude your most valuable players from learning new skills or honing their existing ones?

Tom Brady’s remarkable career is a story of natural ability combined with an incredible worth ethic and an open mind. His seven Super Bowl rings aren’t simply a product of the training camps he went on in his formative years. He’s learnt to adapt his game and credits his longevity with the practical advice he’s received from innovators, many of whom were in nappies when he won his first championship.

Stop bleating on about the past:

Some of those so called ‘legends’ who do remain in advertising have fuelled the problem. Of course, experience is of huge value to the creative process and it’s nice to reminisce every so often. However, endlessly criticising the current state of the industry and claiming we used to operate in a world where every piece of work was a masterpiece is tedious to listen to and plainly not true. It’s a classic case of the peak-end rule in action and has created unnecessary division and negativity.

The positivity and hunger that emanates out of the likes of Cristiano Ronaldo and Serena Williams couldn’t be more contrasting. These are superstars who have won it all, but their focus is on the present and what they can achieve in the future. They’re serial winners who want to inspire others to keep playing, rather than telling everyone how great things used to be.

Ask Tom Brady which Super Bowl ring is his favourite, and his answer says it all.

"The next one."

I firmly believe that creativity doesn’t have a sell by date. In his brilliant book ‘Go Luck Yourself’, Andy Nairn points out that whilst research from the University of Toronto found that older people were less focussed than 20-somethings, the tendency of their minds to diverge, wander and draw on wider sources was precisely what made them better at creative problem solving.

So, let’s keep busting the ageist myths, empower people to keep doing the jobs they’re good at, and make the working environment as hospitable for everyone as we possibly can. Our talent pool and creative output will be significantly richer and more effective, if we do.

[addierose444]

How I Got An Interview at Microsoft: My Résumé

In my last two posts about how I got into Smith, I shared some insight into what I did in high school both extracurricularly and academically. Following that same theme, here I will be sharing the résumé that miraculously landed me the initial interview at Microsoft and ultimately an Explorer Internship (software engineering and program management). I previously outlined the interview process here. As a recap, I simply uploaded my résumé online as I didn’t have any special connections. I’m okay posting this old résumé as much of the information is already publicly available on LinkedIn. However, it is imperative that I note that the résumé is from January of 2021 and has markedly improved since then as I have gained more experience. Furthermore, I have updated the content of every single section and made some minor formatting improvements. While I’m not sharing my real contact information, you’re always welcome to submit questions and future post ideas here. I was inspired to write this post because I’ve recently seen a few software engineers critique their old résumés on YouTube. 

I wish I could write a full guide to résumé writing, but am definitely not an expert. If you are looking for real advice, check out these handouts from the Lazarus Center for Career Development. The Lazarus Center is an incredible resource that I have definitely underutilized. While I did attend a résumé writing workshop in December of my first year and get my résumé reviewed by a peer advisor the following January, I didn’t engage with the center my entire sophomore year. In addition to online resources, workshops, and peer advisors, Smithies have the opportunity to meet year-round with professional career advisors. Appointments are made on Handshake which is a job/internship search tool for college students. Furthermore, services are available to alumnae who have graduated within the past five years.

While not essential, I do recommend holding on to and organizing your old résumés. It may be useful and is also sort of interesting to look back on. I do this with a Google Drive folder, by including the date in the file names, and with a separate document that links to each résumé and includes a few bullet points about why it was created and where it was submitted to. While I may sound super on top of this organization system, the truth is I created it last week. (I am actually pretty good at keeping things organized and you can read about some of my other systems, here). I already had a few old résumés in an archive folder and then used the revision history feature in Google Docs to make copies of old versions. I also resurfaced some old “résumés” (i.e. unformatted lists of activities and accomplishments) by searching around in my Google Drive. I didn’t write my first real résumé until the summer before Smith when looking for work-study jobs. That’s only partially true as I literally wrote that entire first résumé the day my would-be future employer asked for one. Fortunately, I pulled together a functional résumé, was invited to interview, and was offered the job. I wrote a bit more about that job and how I got it here. Even if you are not yet applying for a job, I highly recommend drafting a résumé now especially if you have free time this summer. 

I’m not kidding when I say it feels like a miracle to have gotten an interview at Microsoft with a not very technically impressive résumé. I’ll be upfront in noting that the internship to which I applied is specifically designed for first and second-year students, so the barrier for entry was lower than your traditional software engineering internship. Furthermore, while my coursework and knowledge did actually exceed the minimum qualifications (from in the job posting), my résumé didn’t clearly convey this. 

Outside of listing my majors and knowledge of Java and Python, my résumé outlined no other technical experience or skills. In retrospect, I perhaps should have included my personal project Tascal (a task management app that I developed last summer), more of my technical skills, and data structures as relevant coursework. What experience did I include then? My role in ResLife, my museum job from my first year, and my five years of seasonal work at a local organic farm. While not related to software engineering, my first interviewer did find farm experience unusual and interesting. In general, it doesn’t seem like GPA is all that important for aspiring software engineers. However, given my lack of relevant experience, I think my strong GPA was actually important. By the time I made it to the actual interviews, my résumé was a bit more technical as I’d been able to add my job as a programming contest assistant. You can read more about that experience here. Other minor edits included adding Dart (the programming language used to build Tascal) to my skills section and adding a link to this blog. You can read more about my interview process here. 

The other main section of my résumé was leadership. Rather than use the traditional reverse chronological order, I decided to list things chronologically in order to highlight my leadership experiences from my first year. Under each Hubbard House position, I included two bullet points with my specific responsibilities. I also included a sub-section about my current leadership positions and was super transparent in noting that the actual responsibilities were limited due to the remote semester. Including the note about my limited responsibilities was the most honest way for me to still include the positions for which I was elected and was attending weekly or biweekly meetings. I didn’t have enough work experience to omit the leadership section and thought only including old positions could be seen as a reg flag. The key takeaway here is that it is possible to get an entry-level tech internship with limited experience. 

Here is the full résumé (minus my actual contact information). As a reminder, this résumé is not current and is from January of 2021. Note: If you can’t see it, click here.

[cyberneticpeoplespolis]

Inaction and Liberalism

I write this mainly in response to Ti Lamusse’s excellent On Building a Revolutionary Organisation. Since this was shared as an internal document in Organise Aotearoa I wanted to generalise some of the critiques of organisational liberalism and add some of my own, in order to analyse the inertia that paralyses many left organisations. 

Organisational Liberalism:

No doubt many of On Building a Revolutionary Organisation’s critiques of liberalism within the party come from Mao’s seminal Combat Liberalism directive of 1937. You don’t have to be a Maoist to recognise this as a vital resource for any organiser, and a good source of self reflection for anyone who worries about their ego influencing their activism. Combat Liberalism’s central message is that there are multiple forms of Liberalism. The Ideological strain is something most socialists are already intimately familiar with, and can be generalised as the ideology of individualism. Political and Organisational Liberalisms stem from this ideology, and they can paralyse any organisation in a number of ways. Mao identifies eleven types of organisational Liberalism:

Inability to criticise friends when they are wrong.

To gossip rather than make public criticism.

Playing it safe and ignoring things that don’t affect us.

Finding our own opinions more important than those of others.

Engaging in personal attacks.

Ignoring incorrect views

Forgetting we are Communist and never agitating.

Allowing the masses to be harmed, and doing nothing.

Working half-heartedly, without plans.

Considering ourselves better than others out of pride.

Being aware of our own faults and doing nothing.

To say that organisational liberalism infects the left isn’t a personal criticism of anyone. Everyone internalises liberalism to a certain degree, as liberalism is a reflection of the cultural hegemony of capitalism. It is a creeping influence of petty competition and personal interests into politics, and the only defence is  mindfulness and introspection, along with robust democratic structures when that is not enough. Organisational liberalism can take the form of members taking on too many responsibilities at once. What at first appears to be selfless devotion of time and energy to organising can in truth be an inability to see our own weaknesses and limits due to pride. This kind of liberalism easily takes hold in a left where a small group of organisers have to spread their energies very thinly across multiple projects and movements. It can be the inability of activists to criticise their own parties because of the social pressures and benefits of being in such a tight-knit group. Looking to the party for our social and emotional needs goes hand in hand with this, as does the problems that come with cadreism - the idea that the party must be incredibly cohesive, small and ideologically pure.

Finally, Liberalism can take the form of “cultural problems” within an organisation. An uneasy atmosphere of unspoken party lines, ignored arguments and domination by unelected leaders. A lack of criticism and introspection allows for these problems to occur. Note that freedom to criticise is different to the “Freedom of Criticism” that Lenin spoke against - he was specifically railing against the treatment of all criticism (especially ideologically liberal criticism) as equal to radical criticism.

Fetishising Membership

Treating the desire to gain members as a form of Liberalism may seem odd when Mao’s 7th form of liberalism is “To be among the masses and fail to conduct propaganda and agitation.”

However the fetishisation of membership is much more of an issue in the modern context of a socialist movement divided along historical lines that date back a century or more. There are points that many of us will never agree on, and they are not invalid arguments simply because they are old ones. But the vast majority of these historical questions - what happened in 1863? 1905? 1929? 1968? - are extremely distant to the majority of working people today. There are deep contradictions in the socialist movement, and a lot of them will be worked through only in practice, experimentation and struggle, but to not work with other tendencies wherever practical is liberalism. Our own parties are not as important as the broader task of raising consciousness. Gaining members is not as important as raising consciousness, and ultimately basing the success of the party on membership deeply misunderstands where our appeal lies. Two people blocking a small path between police and an oppressed group raises consciousness more than a party of thousands that submits to reformism and liberal infighting. A party in its naive infancy can embolden workers in a city much more than a bigger organisation that has long since alienated themselves from workers and fellow activists, through infighting and toxicity. Ultimately having members counts for little if members aren’t utilised well, with sound theory and a culture that fights organisational as well as ideological liberalism.

Members aren’t drawn to a party through a thousand text messages and the feeling that they are a contact that the organisation desperately needs in order to perpetuate a revolving door membership of burnt-out students. Members gravitate towards parties that inspire through their actions. Organise Aotearoa appeared to have instantly gained a highly respectable number of members when it first formed, only to find that many lost interest after months of inaction.

Democracy

Any activist would do well to read Jo Freeman’s (Joreen’s) The Tyranny of Structurelessness. It’s an excellent dissection of how anti-democratic structures take hold in unstructured organisations, and how a set of seven principles is necessary to ensure equality. It pairs well with Combat Liberalism and when reading both it is easy to see how many of the problems Joreen describes originate in organisational liberalism, as the egocentric individualism of liberalism easily leads to tyranny in unstructured parties. The seven principles Joreen describes are:

Delegation: assigning authority through democratic procedures.

Responsibility: delegates need to be responsible to the other members

Distribution: authority needs to be spread evenly to prevent monopolies.

Rotation: authority can’t be permanent and should be subject to recall.

Allocation: roles should be assigned based on skills, which members develop together.

Diffusion of Information: every member should be told as much as possible.

Equal Access to Resources: every member should be able to request resources. 

Since a certain degree of liberalism is unavoidable when working under a capitalist society, it’s important to have processes in place that prevent the liberal tendencies of members from subverting the organisation. Structure is essential in keeping organisational liberalism from flourishing, and anywhere that structure isn’t clearly visible and observed by members, liberalism will find a way.

Aotearoa’s leftist organisations seem to do a particularly poor job of principles four and six. Speaking from personal experience, transparency and clear structure are the main things that make left parties appealing to me. Any party that doesn’t clearly tell you who is in charge, and how their power is limited, probably has something to hide.

Internet Socialism

This is a more minor point, but a concrete reason as to why our leftist parties are so inactive. Internet activism offers a lot in the way of catharsis and aestheticised politics (more on that later), so much so that it’s easy to feel as though a lot has been accomplished without any real movement. Meetings are much more useful, democratic and deliberative spaces for discussion than the internet. Facebook’s structure in particular leads to anti-democratic structures in the form of unelected admins, facilitators and regular posters who can drown out anyone else. I’m no luddite, but until we make our own digital architecture, the structure of our groups will be defined by the enemies of our movement. Until such a time comes that we can fight against the de-neutralisation of the internet, it can only supplement rather than replace our in-person organising.

The depoliticisation of aesthetics.

This is perhaps the most esoteric of my arguments as to why we’re gripped by inactivity, and yet I see this as a recurring theme in what I’m told by people who are relatively new to left activism. We should be listening to new activists most of all as they have the most to tell us about what radicalises people in the present moment.

If there’s one thing that marxist meme pages have taught us, it’s that aesthetics, specifically aesthetics that are appropriated by politics, actually radicalise people. This makes a lot of sense in the context of Walter Benjamin’s work on the aestheticisation of politics, which he described as a fundamental precursor to fascism. Conversely, the appropriation of aesthetics by politics is a redeeming factor, a radicalising factor that marxists can utilise. Fascists obscure politics from the material plane by turning it into an art form, and we need to respond by bringing materialism into art. I keep hearing from new leftists that marxism should be fun, vibrant, and with defined aesthetic sensibilities. This is often ignored by the more serious voices in the room who take it as the naivety of newcomers, when it actually scratches at deeper truths about what brings people to politics. We are artistic beings and we need to bring politics to where people are. The art world has already degenerated into an elitist agent of gentrification, so we need to democratise and politicise art in response, allowing it to infiltrate every space in the same way that capitalist art (advertising) infiltrates every corner of our field of vision.

Just this week I watched as a new leftist, a trans marxist who recently joined the DSA in the US, created a facebook frame that said “Communist Cutie” with a little love heart, and a hammer and sickle. The frame did the rounds so quickly that a council communist on the other side of the world, with no connection to the creator, had applied it to their own profile within 48 hours. That is the power of politicised aesthetics, and it is very telling that it was a new leftist that best exhibited this. Aesthetics is how we normalise our politics, how we make the depoliticised think about us in a new way.

There is no excuse for inaction. There are so many tools available to us that the only question is where to begin, and really, anywhere would do.

"Every step of real movement is more important than a dozen programmes"

[jiangsspace]

In the Mood for Love

Youth is a journey. Here is a description of someone’s path.

Pairing: non-idol!BTS x reader

Word count: 1,9K

Genre: angst, fluff

When you turned 20 you realised the concept of the perfect partner was a lie. A complete lie. There were none and people put up a facade every day to mask the fact they were flawed and imperfect. Some even broken.

There was Namjoon, who was a charming person overall but lacked compassion. He could hold a conversation with anyone finding people’s secrets and using them to his advantage. Quite the snake at the end. It didn’t last long and you found yourself deprived of affection and manipulated.

Then there was Seokjin. A great guy who could make you laugh with just his facial expressions and endearing sense of humor. Also, a great cook. A talent he liked to show off during date night. But he seemed too obsessed with himself to ever truly give himself to you entirely. In short, slightly self-obsessed to let other people shine. It left the both of you feeling betrayed and empty at the end. It had to stop. Although the sex was great.

Yoongi gave you everything you found ideal. Good humor, great personality, the appearance, depth and seriousness. Yoongi wasn’t someone to hide his feelings. He would tell you openly when he had had enough or when he was truly enjoying himself. And you could respect that. It was something you had grown to appreciate in other people. Honesty and loyalty were crucial when maintaining a relationship. The reason you two didn’t last long, was the lack of goofiness. Yoongi was funny but he didn’t want to be perceived as the funny guy.

Hoseok was a wild ride. A big party person and very sociable. Long story short, he gave you an overdose of sunshine. He seemed to be everyone’s good friend and everyone knew him. Although he only knew a quarter of them. Hoseok had only let you in for a month and when he called it off one night at a bar, he stated you were boring and not adventurous enough. And to be honest, you two were doomed from the first day.

Hoseok’s comment left you sore and hurt for a long time, which meant you plunged yourself into trouble and bad habits such as shoplifting and graffiti art. After crying your eyes out and downing a bottle of cheap wine you grabbed your backpack and stuffed it with red and green and black and pink aerosol paint bottles and punched your arms in the old leather jacket you had absentmindedly taken from Hoseok as you stormed out the door.

The evening was fresh and you thought your fingers would fall off if you walked down this road for any longer. Your hands were tucked in the pockets of the leather jacket but it provided no warmth, just like Hoseok. You scoffed and turned your gaze to the stars. Slightly drunk you opened your mouth and watched the smoke as it passed through your teeth and dispersed in the air. Fuck you Hoseok, you screamed as loudly as you could, not caring if someone was out here to hear your curse.

I agree. Hoseok is a bitch, a dark haired boy answered. He was clearly amused at your reaction when you turned around like a whip, almost breaking your neck in the process. He had surprised you to death to say the least. He laughed when your face contorted in a poor attempt to see him against the dark night. It was just your luck to forget your glasses at home tonight. The alcohol had fogged your ability to make clear decisions. Or it was the lack of sleep and proper food.

Where are you going? His voice was soft and tempting. Different from Hoseok in so many ways. You liked the change and let him hang out with you. Taehyung talked about society and the wrongdoings of politicians and big CEOs who only thought about their stomachs and money. He had quite a lot to say about them but offered very little solutions. He was still a hopeless optimistic.

He was still amusing and used big words to impress you. Taehyung fell in love with the facade you had raised to prove to yourself and Hoseok you were capable of fun and crazy, but the lifestyle didn’t suit you and when you dropped the graffiti and alcohol, you also dropped him. No harm taken. I’ll be here if you need me, Taehyung laughed when his heart shattered.

You landed a job at Starbucks and fell in love with the cute and goofy Starbucks boy, Jungkook. He had a face so charming it left you speechless for days. But you tried to be professional. You really wanted this job and you needed the money. He was in charge of your training and adaptation to the job but your relationship turned out to be something more than that of the mentor and the tutored. Jungkook was hot and passionate, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. 

He was the reason to all of your happiness during those two months. The moments of love and utter admiration. The moments of passion and affection. Jungkook was competitive and jealous. But maybe a bit more competitive. Which is why working with him became a burden and you felt pressured because he was your superior and lover. The look on his face when you handed in your resignation letter left you in a bad, bitter mood. Is it because of me, his words would haunt you for a long time.

Jimin. Your current attempt at love. You bumped into each other in a book reading club you had stumbled upon on a rainy day. You didn’t own an umbrella so when the opportunity presented itself to get cover from the pouring rain, you took it. Jimin owned the library and he was the smiling manager everyone liked and enjoyed working with. 

Jimin, although, he was the life of the party when need be, he was a solid rock when it came to comforting and listening. The beacon of light in the storm. Jimin knew how to manage people, but he wasn’t manipulative. He had studied psychology and read a lot about sociology. He was someone of great taste in people and rarely let others in. He valued himself, but he wasn’t narcissistic. Sometimes it even felt like he put other people before himself.

Jimin was the stereotype of the silent, nerdy librarian, but he knew how to be vocal. And he liked to be the dominant one. His dominant side was aroused in the bedroom and it seemed to be a silent agreement between the two of you; you would be the submissive.

My business is doing well and I now have the resources to take you on a longer vacation. I was thinking about Japan, he announced one evening when he came home with takeout. The living room was filled with the sweet smell of pastries. The word vacation sent butterflies to your stomach and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were taking things too fast.

Jimin noticed your sudden reaction and read you like an open book. I haven’t booked anything yet, he sounded apologetic, the soft voice laced with love. We’ll take things slowly if that’s what you want. You gave him a soft smile and handed a baked roll as a token of your appreciation.

That night, when you lay in his arms, stomach full of Chinese takeout and soju, you thought of all the previous guys you had met during your youth. All wonderful and terrible in their own special ways.

Namjoon, you had met at the age of seventeen. The school’s class president and powerful persona in the facility. Situated in the heart of Seoul and having the reputation of best high school in Korea, you two formed a power couple. The couple everyone looked up to and whispered about in the halls. The popularity had given you a thick skin and the mental resources to deal with having your private couple life poked and dug on. But it all became too much and when you graduated, you sighed in relief when parting ways with Namjoon. He was the son of the CEO of Kim Enterprises and you knew his life was predestined from birth.

Seokjin, the humorous narcissist great with pots and pans. You met a month after your graduation and he immediately swept you off your feet. He was a soon-to-be graduate of Korea’s most known and respected cooking school. He was the one to teach you the secrets of your baked rolls baked in heaven, as he used to say.

Yoongi was the serious gentleman with a quick tongue and quirky remarks. He was an aspiring rapper and musician who always remembered your birthday and offered mixtapes as a present. He had a witty sense of humor he used to his advantage to write his lyrics. You still owned all three mixtapes he had offered. One for your birthday, one for your name day and third for your two month anniversary.

Hoseok cursed you with all that alcohol and parties and sent you in a spiral of bad habits. Although nice to everyone he had a nasty way of critiquing and talking nonsense while drunk. He was toxic, but the university life took a serious toll on him. His family was very strict and expected too much from the just turned nineteen-year-old who just wanted to get away and take a breather. But you never contacted him again.

Taehyung was the hopeless optimistic who scared the living shit out of you in the cold January night and began tagging along during your rebellious graffiti times. Taehyung had landed a job in an environmental law firm as an assistant. It turned out, his father was quite a powerful man who managed to help his son out from the night and into a normal routine. Taehyung loved what he did and updated you often about his projects with the lawyer noonas and hyungs.

Jungkook quit his job as the Starbucks manager and applied to become a taekwondo teacher. He had a black belt in taekwondo, a fact you did not know about him. Seeing him in television as the coach of Korea’s taekwondo representatives made you proud. He was doing what he loved and seeing him happy was enough. Now that you thought about your time with Jungkook more closely, you realised that Starbucks made Jungkook miserable and mentoring you had evoked the desire to teach. And so he did just that.

Watching Jimin silently snoring at your side made your heartstrings twitch. You had opted for the librarian who made you smile every day. Why are you not asleep, his honey coated voice stirred you from your thoughts. Jimin cared for you in ways you didn’t even know you wanted to be taken care of. It was a strange mixture of affection and discovery. The entire man was a discovery. Almost every day did you discover something new about him and his personality.

I was just about to, you smiled. Leaning down to kiss his lips you were caught off guard when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and pulled you on top of him. I am wide awake now, his suddenly lustful voice coated your ears and sent a hunger inside you.

[monsterfucker-lisa-swallows]

On iZombie and How Putting on Different Lenses Gives You Different Readings

I didn't think about the central metaphor in iZombie much when I originally watched the show during season 1, but now that I finally finished the show I have some thoughts.

A lot of the shallow literary criticism I see on this site sort of boils down to either "you're stupid for not reading into it that this plotline is problematic even if the author didn't intend it" or "you're stupid for reading that much into it BECAUSE the author didn't intend it". So today we're going to take the position that multiple unintentional readings of the same text can and do exist and coexist without anyone being stupid (unless you're blind to queer subtext, in which case you should consult with a doctor). So let's put on some lenses in the order in which I received them and look at this piece of work.

Lens 1: The Trauma Narrative

I first watched this show when I was still living with my grandparents after my stepdad had been jailed for being a pedophile and child abuser. I was still processing what had happened to me, but I wasn't processing it well because I didn't have therapy at the time and was still living in an emotionally abusive and invalidating environment. Within 5 minutes of starting this show, I was convinced that Liv was a metaphor for trauma. And I'm not the only person who noticed that. I remember seeing a critique at the time about how if you take away the Zombieism, the Boat Party Incident could be paralleled with the trauma of acquaintance rape since it occurred at a party and was perpetrated by a drug dealer who had been offering her drugs earlier in the night.

The boat party was clearly a traumatic incident for Liv. I saw my own experiences reflected in her. She had a whole life path laid out for her, but it was derailed by an experience that made her fundamentally unable to relate to and socialize normally with other people. She broke up with her fiance and became socially withdrawn, refusing to talk about what had happened to her out of fear of the social stigma attached. She even underwent a drastic fashion overhaul and completely changed her career path. It sounded familiar. You could even equate brains in this equation to Liv seeking out an addiction in order to make herself able to function within society that isn't giving her the tools she needs to process.

Lens 2: The Racial and Straight Passing Metaphor

I hadn't really thought of this AT ALL until I started rewatching. Oh give me a break - I was a barely 20-year-old white girl who hadn't even thought about the possibility of a sexuality when I first watched it. But upon doing a rewatch and seeing some behind the scenes stuff, it's pretty clear that the writers were going for a passing metaphor.

But I'm not entirely sure that it holds up under close scrutiny.

On the surface, sure. It's a narrative about discrimination where someone must "pass" as human in order to survive. Understandable. But it sort of breaks down when you recall that it's a show about zombies who eat people. When they "rage out", I can only think of "super predators". The implication being that there are good minorities and bad minorities - the good ones being those who are willing to pass for your comfort and the bad ones being the ones who can't or won't. Especially when equating zombie struggles to LGBT issues, I see a sexually transmittable zombie virus as akin to the AIDS virus in a JK Rowling sort of "intentionally infecting people" sort of way.

Lens 3: I'm Autistic and You Didn't Ask

Something occurred to me right around the time that the zombie virus was introduced to the flu vaccine supply: This is gonna create a whole new generation of in-universe anti-vaxxers.

My immediate reaction was 'oh fuck, how will anyone in Seattle ever trust a vaccine again'? Zombie cure, what? I bet that's more zombies intentionally infecting people! The zombie truthers will have a field day!

It was a baffling choice to me from the beginning to have a group of militant zombies intentionally infecting people to protect their way of life. I simply could not wrap my head around why you would want to still have this virus and why you'd want your kids to have it. You have to eat brains to survive and you're constantly at risk of horrible symptoms if you don't get them. The entire zombie population is easily controlled by the withholding of brains by what again seems like a pretty blatant addiction metaphor. This is horrifying. Why would you want that? Then to go and intentionally infect others with this virus...I just don't get it. You should want a cure. You really should.

Of course I thought about it further and knew they were still going for their passing metaphor. Of course I didn't believe zombies deserved to be murdered in the streets. I thought all available resources should be going to making a vaccine and a cure. I didn't think this was equivalent to the struggle for equal rights we've seen in real events because of the aforementioned "raging out".

But then I thought about it again. If there's any group that the struggle more closely parallels, it's the disabled community - particularly those of us with autism. Liv is trying to pass in a world that isn't set up to accommodate her particular needs but she's able to pass as a "high functioning" zombie. Her brain of the week could be compared to a hyperfixation. "Low functioning" zombies would be the Romeros, who physically cannot "pass for human".

This is a theme that comes up in most everything I write, in some form or other. The autism passing for human metaphor. Because I've never felt like I actually do. Some days I can be Liv-ing it up, but other days I'm halfway Romero. But when I tackle the issues of not passing for NT by creating an alien or a nephilim, I'm doing it with the knowledge that passing isn't the end goal. And I guess, for that reason, I respect the choice at the end to not cure Liv.

But even this reading sort of falls apart when you think of how "high functioning" zombies like Liv would get to throw Romeros under the bus because they're too far gone to be useful to society so they're expendable. That's actually not even the main reason it would fall apart. The main reason is that they intentionally infected people with a zombie virus using a vaccine. I mean every anti-vaxxers argument is that vaccines cause this, right?

And you really don't want to equate disability to a virus. Viruses are deadly things that should be eradicated. Autism is not.

God, this reading is so particularly complicated for me. Because the closest disability parallel you can make is some strange mixture of autism and AIDS. And as an AIDS parallel, it can almost make some commentary. There's the fear and social isolation thrown at people with a confirmed diagnosis. The incredible stigma and misinformation. Also how resources are withheld from people who cannot afford to pay for them. But you really don't want this as an AIDS metaphor because, again, there were people intentionally infecting people.

Which brings me back to why would you want to be a zombie? The side effects are too severe. Even if you're dying of a terminal illness, how is that not swapping it out for something worse? And what happens to people infected as children? Do they stay children forever? Did we learn nothing from Interview with the Vampire?

And even typing that last paragraph was complicated to me, because it harkens back to arguments people have about curing autism. That it's supposedly a life-destroying disease and that being alive with autism is worse than being dead. Hell, even throw in the perpetual child thing.

I'm reading this show with all these mixed feelings. They all exist within my brain, so it's very confusing up here. I get multiple readings and I'm just one person! It's very difficult to write a supernatural metaphor for an actual social issue, because it's very VERY easy for it to have unintentionally shady readings that don't really work upon closer scrutiny. And you know why that is? Because people who consume media come from all different backgrounds and different life experiences. I still don't exactly know how I feel about the central metaphor of iZombie. All I really know is that it's weird that they didn't address the in-universe anti-vaxxers.

[rmapracticeresearchgroup]

Supervising Artistic Research Doctorates

I just took part in this excellent event by the Orpheus Institute: Feed-back, Feed-forward: Approaches to artistic feedback in doctoral supervision. This session has close relations to two other large EU projects on Artistic Research which are well-worth a look for their thought-provoking and supportive documentation: ADIE (Artistic Doctorates in Europe), and Advancing Supervision for Artistic Research Doctorates. Here are some brief notes on things I picked up today and yesterday. Please excuse the fragmentary nature of the bullet-point format; much of this is paraphrased—simply what I was able to type (furiously) while listening—but hopefully it is an accurate and useful representation.

Simon Waters discussed his approach to supervision with excellent advice especially in terms of practical advice about the relationship between candidate and supervisor. 

The importance of having significant discussion with the candidate before they apply. This helps in several areas (and might head-off some complications down the line): to establish both the direction and viability of the project, and the skills of the candidate in relation to that project; begins a relationship of trust between supervisor(s) and candidate, knowing they will spend 3+ years in close contact.

The importance for the student of learning how to ‘play’, to be creatively playful as a mode of thinking and research.

the value of the supervisor challenging the student in a productive way.

Importance of the supervisor establishing distance from the way they were taught, or their own PhD experience. All students are individual and the supervisor should be reflective and self-critical about how their own experience shapes how they see candidates (and their projects). This isn’t to abandon your own experience, simply to be critical and not make assumptions.

This self-criticality also extends to tools/skills the student has to develop so they can be reflective in and around their practice: ethnographies of the self, self-observation etc.

My favourite phrase from this was the idea of ‘supervising the unknown’, in being present with the candidate on a journey that is necessarily contingent and emergent. This idea is picked up below in the Wesseling session.

Janneke Wesseling’s talk was on ‘Explicating the Intuitive’, and was especially useful for my own thinking on how artists navigate the PhD with its requirements for intuition to be explained (usually) through words of some sort. I took a solid four pages of notes on this session, which I summarise below to present the themes (roughly): though I haven’t yet read it, this paper by Wesseling might cover some of the same ground.

the importance of intuition as central to practice, developed over years of embodied training.

research is driven by intuition and personal vision

Key to ‘objectifying the subjective’, especially through writing, and dialogue with peers.

note that this is distinct from ‘objectivity’ as discussed in relation to scientistic research. Rather ‘objectifying’ is about putting the research into the modality of objecthood, placing it on the table for all to see and engage with play with.

which leads to the importance of artists being able to discuss what it is they are doing. That the ‘public dimension of research is its core business’.

which is not a reference to impact, but a reference to making research transferrable and part of discourse.

Wesseling cites Brian Massumi’s  ’The Thinking-Feeling of What Happens' for its discussion of art and philosophy speaking to each other, being ‘part of the same ripple pool’

The importance of staying true to the hunch that begins the research, which usually arises through practice [and must be explore through practice].

HOW TO EXPLICATE THIS INTUITION

Wesseling draws significantly on new-materialist around the breaking of the subject/object divide. Karen Barad’s ‘intra-action’ is especially important here around the ideas of knowing as direct engagement with material (see Barad New Materialism: Interviews & Cartographies, ed. By Rick Dolphijn and Iris van der Tuin (Ann Arbor: Open Humanities Press, 2012))

also, Bruno Latour on the theory/practice divide as a unity fractured by the blow of a powerful hammer.

Phrasing the research question is main tool in explicating

The biggest challenge is to find the question, but no serious research is possible without it 

Research is a way of asking questions. 

Often the central question is only truly revealed at the END of project, but the question evolves and adapts across project 

The initial question just needs to be productive enough to start.

Wesseling leans on Whitehead’s notion of question as a productive limit or constraint, a ground for action. Also, Stengers (in Thinking with Whitehead) 'we must limit ourselves to the problem that has been raised, and trust our problem'.

Whitehead’s concept of the ‘foothold of the mind’, and trusting the foothold to continuously ground the research as it develops. That this footholding is the condition of experimentation.

The candidate, when trying to come up with a question begins in the phase that is mainly felt, not fully understood: ’this feels important!'. It’s key to follow that intuition and build on it, find footholds with concentrated attention and detailed specific investigation.

Heloisa Amaral presented a very useful workshop on the DasArts Feedback Method, developed by philosopher Karim Bennamar together with staff and students from the performing arts school DasArts (Amsterdam), As Amaral says: “This encourages feedback givers to address an issue without judgement and from different positions, as well as to more clearly and creatively justify this positioning in relation to the needs of the artist receiving feedback. Furthermore, the Method places great focus on the responsibility of feedback-receivers in formulating what they need, what they are looking for, and what they are struggling with. In a nutshell, it is about learning to ask the ‘right’ questions in order to get the ‘right’ questions back.” A key insight that I found useful here was in using specific language and response formulations to create distance from simply expressing opinion, and usefully focussing the feedback.

The exercises include:

1) affirmative feedback: ‘what works for me is X'

2) perspectives feedback, speak from someone else’s shoes. For example, ‘as X I need Y’, e.g. ‘as an audience I need more context’ etc.

3) open questions, make you think through a specific position, not about yes/no answers. Possibly generating new avenues of thought: making them think about something without telling them what to do.

4) concept-reflection and methodology. Placing concepts in the space and allowing free reflection and exploration on these concepts

5) tips and tricks: specific advice with emphasis on being precise, e.g. 'why book X useful might be useful for your question/practice'

Finally, Vida Midgelow’s workshop on ‘Creative practice in/as Feedback’. As Midgelow says, the session “shares findings and proposals arising from research undertaken by ‘Artistic Doctorate in Europe’. This will be interwoven with light, collaborative and playful activities that aim to develop self-reflection, challenging us to move beyond traditional models of direct critical feedback, toward more expansive and creative modalities.” The website above offers several excellent resources, but key points for me in this session included:

Thinking of the feedback process as slow, of allowing, listening, waiting.

Moving from ‘what is a thing’ to 'entering the experience of a thing'.

Challenging the idea of ‘supervision’ into something that embraces complexity and attunement. 

taking ideas of supervision from other domains. The idea of supervision as ‘assistance’ or as ‘seconding’ (from psychotherapy). Tim Ingold’s idea of the meshwork of interaction and exchange. Ideas from Dance Movement Psychotherapy of  reflective conversations, transitional awareness, somatic engagement.

Coming to language from experience, avoiding naming too quickly, and allowing instead the emergence of thick description: ‘attending-to’, ‘noticing what you notice’. Narrativising experience not to critique it but to open it up: how do we pay attention to the how-ness of ourselves in any situation?

starting from looking for the ‘miraculous moment’ in the work, which might not be obvious to anyone else.

This is at best a snapshot, but I encourage readers to consider these ideas/positions/prompts and seek out the more expansive documentation linked above. The Advancing Supervision for Artistic Research Doctorates project has a conference in Summer 2021 that is worth keeping an eye on for developments and resources.