#Voss Pattern

[alphamecha-mkii]

Voss Pattern Lightning Strike Fighter by Michal Svec

[theironwarsmith]

I haven't posted any of my own Warhammer in a while soooo:

Looks like I got another one of these beauties. This time for my Alpha Legion.

[akalanthis]

please consider: orpheus and voss growing up as slave children together

[smimon]

Jessember #3: redraw of a photo I like :)

Jessember #4: summer vibes

[rococospade]

Tile made from sketches I did for the "RPG" prompt of mahoushoujune

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Crystal Clear

A/N- Thank you so much to everyone who shared their own personal likes and dislikes about their glasses 🖤 as a fellow glasses girlie, i really hope this fic did justice to help other glasses girlies not feel as insecure about them 🫶 (i tried my best to tag everyone that left comments on my post to help me a little bit with writing 🖤🖤 thank you all so much!)

Summary- After yet another conversation at lunch about your glasses, the rain changes your mood. Thank god Eddie offers a ride home.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- Reader wears glasses

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23 @hellfirenacht @siouxiesiouxtryhard @rememberwhen-it-rained @bylermaxmayfield @capricornrisingsstuff @nymphetkoo @boltonbritreads @vintagehellfire @fan-girl-97 @cielie-voss @architectofimagination @sicknasty03

(my tag list is always open, if you’d like to be added just let me know 🖤)

Word Count- 3.0k words

“Woah!” Eddie said with a laugh, greatly exaggerating his reaction just like he always did, “You can see with these?”

“Yes! Now give them back, i like being able to see.” You quickly snatched your glasses back from his face, carefully cleaning the lenses with your shirt to wipe away the smudges from his fingers.

“Is it really that hard to see without them?” Jeff asked from the other side of the table.

“I mean, it’s not difficult,” You carefully slipped them off of your face and looked around, reading off the few things nearby that you could make out, “I can see the pattern on the table still, and i know that the can across the table says ‘Pepsi’ but i can’t really see much past you guys.” You glanced over their heads and saw one of the few posters hanging on the cafeteria wall for whatever sports event was nearing, “I can’t read what that sign says,” you pointed over to the poster, maybe around 10 feet away, and the boys turned just to see the distance, “i know it’s for some sports thing cause i can make out some kind of ball and i can sort of make out the words ‘varsity’ and ‘friday night’ but that’s really about it.”

“Wow,” Gareth laughed as he turned back in his seat, “you really are blind.”

“Yeah, that’s why i have glasses, dipshit.” You rolled your eyes and placed your glasses back onto your face, blinking a few times as your eyes adjusted back to seeing normally.

You forget how you even got onto this topic, but it always started with Eddie. The amount of times you’ve caught him staring could be counted on both hands, and it always ended up with him making some comment about your glasses. Always poking and prying you with different questions about them. You usually chalked it up to his normal curiosity about everything, always sounding like it was playful teasing but you knew he had the best intentions.

“Do you like them?” Grant asked.

You looked over at him, a bit confused at his question,

“What do you mean?”

“Do you like them?” He said again, “I mean you’ve had them forever, and none of us have them, so we don’t really know what it’s like.”

You thought it over for a moment, shrugging,

“I don’t know. I don’t not like them, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve had them forever, and they’re kind of a necessity for me, so i haven’t really thought about wether or not i like them.”

“Is there stuff you can’t do?” Jeff asked, his and the other boys’ curiosity getting the best of them, “I mean i know those goggles they make us wear in bio look uncomfortable on you.”

“Yeah, those are definitely one of the downsides to them. And a lot of the times when i open up the oven or the dishwasher they fog up, and it’s the worst when you come inside from the cold cause then they stay foggy for what feels like forever.” You sighed and moved your eyes in a slow circle, following all around the frame, “But i’m used to it all by now. I don’t think i’ve ever had to think about things like that, the ups and downs. It’s just cause it’s all normal to me.”

“I like them.” Eddie piped up, gaining your attention.

“What?” You asked as you looked over to him.

“I like them. Your glasses.” He shrugged and motioned to them, “I don’t know, you just wouldn’t be you without them, you know?”

You shrugged,

“I guess so. I don’t know, sometimes i think about getting rid of them. Getting contacts or something, just so i didn’t always have to feel so different from everyone else.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Gareth asked, “None of us look like everyone else, that’s why we all get along so well.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You smiled, “I don’t know, i just think it might be nice to not always feel so different…”

Eddie was about to speak, but was quickly cut off by the bell for next period. You and the boys and the rest of the students around you quickly gathered your things, packing up for whatever class you had next. As you sling your bag over your shoulder, you glanced out the window, seeing the clouds in the sky now a deep grey. A storm was coming, and you knew just from the looks of the sky turning grey that it was going to be a bad one.

Eddie heard your groans and quickly picked up his pace to meet you in the hall,

“You alright (y/n)?”

“Yeah,” You sighed and looked out the window again, “you think you’d be able to give me a ride home today? It looks like it’s gonna be a pretty bad storm.”

“Of course, i won’t make you walk home in the rain. Just meet me by the doors after school.”

“Thanks Eds.” You gave him a quick side hug before splitting your paths down the hall, off to your own classes to finish out the rest of the day.

The last of your classes went smoothly, each period you were able to peek out the window to see just how bad the storm was getting. It hadn’t gotten too bad over the course of time, just a dark sky and a sprinkling of rain. But of course, it had to be at its worst when you were finally ready to leave for the day.

Eddie was there at the doors, waiting for you patiently with a smile on his face,

“Hey,” He perked up as you approached him, “ready to make a run for it?”

“I guess so…” You sighed as the two of you braved yourselves for what was about to come.

It was pouring out, so much so that it made it difficult to see past the water running down the glass of the doors. And of course Eddie had to park as far away from the doors as possible.

He took a deep breath and pulled you close, fixing up his jacket to go over his head and moving the side of it to cover you up as much as possible,

“We’ll go together alright?” You nodded and quickly pulled your glasses off of your face, fearing that the mixture of running and the heavy raindrops would make them fall off your face. You blinked a few times to get yourself used to seeing without them, holding onto them tightly in your hand before starting the count.

“Ready? One…” You were dreading having to run outside and get yourself soaked, “Two…” It wouldn’t be a far run, but all you were worried about was making sure you had a tight grip on your glasses, Eddie noticing as he looked down at you and saw the frames missing from your face,

“Got ‘em?” You looked up to him and nodded before Eddie quickly said, “Three!”

He shoved the doors open, and within seconds you could feel the puddles soaking your shoes and pant legs, and Eddie’s jacket wasn’t much help either. Yours and his hair was completely soaked, sopping wet before you were even halfway towards the van. All you could think about was just getting yourselves to shelter, out of the rain, and as soon as you reached the door he quickly opened it for you and helped you inside. Always a gentleman, even in the pouring rain.

You quickly shook your hair out, wiping the water away from your eyes and reaching down into your pocket to put your glasses back onto your eyes but you felt nothing there. In a panic, you search in every pocket you could, not being able to remember when they may have fallen out of your hand or your pocket or wherever it may have been where you lost them. Eddie climbed into the drivers seat, but as soon as he saw your panicked state he knew something was wrong,

“Everything ok? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my glasses…” You said quietly, already feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

You could barely see as is, and now with your glasses gone you didn’t know what to do.

“We’ll find them, don’t worry,” Eddie said, doing his best to reassure you, looking down at the floor of the van to try and spot them, “they’re here somewhere.”

“I think i dropped them outside…” You sniffled, overwhelmed with not knowing exactly what to feel. All you knew was that you were blind and the one thing keeping that from happening was now gone.

Eddie leaned up and looked out the window of the passenger door, a determined look on his face before pulling off his jacket and handing it to you,

“Here, the inside is a little dry, just try and clean yourself up a little ok? You’ll be alright.”

You sniffled again, taking the jacket from him and doing your best to wipe away the droplets on your cheeks. You couldn’t tell if it was rain or tears but at this point it didn’t matter.

Before you could even analyze what was happening, you heard Eddie’s door slam shut again, and when you looked over he wasn’t in his seat. You glanced out the front window and saw that he was back outside, in the pouring rain without his jacket, retracing your steps back towards the door. He was looking all over at the ground, keeping his steps quick and careful as he slowly made his way back towards the doors of the school before leaning down towards the ground and picking something up, moving as quickly as he could back to the van.

You reached over and opened his door for him as he jumped back into the van, now soaking wet from the rain outside. You squinted your eyes in an attempt to see better as Eddie wiped the water out of his eyes before reaching into the back and pulling out one of his old spare shirts, and it looked almost as if he was cleaning something in his lap.

“Are you crazy?! It’s pouring, what did you go back outside for?”

He looked over the object in his hands and he reached over to you, the semi-dry shirt in his hands as he carefully wiped the rest of the water from your eyes, and he carefully slid your glasses back onto your face,

“These are important, i didn’t want to leave without them.”

You blinked a few times to adjust your eyes back and Eddie was completely soaked from head to toe, a bit of water pooling on the seat beneath him,

“You went back outside for them?” Your eyes moved over the frames to check for any damage, but they still seemed to be perfectly fine, save for a few smudges from his shirt on the lenses, “That’s so sweet Eddie, thank you…”

Eddie smiled to you as he tried his best to dry himself off with the shirt in his hands, but he knew he would be waiting a while, especially with his mop of hair still completely soaked. You smiled back at him as you watched him gently scrunch his hair in the shirt,

“You didn’t have to go out in the rain like that, you’re soaked now, i’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” He asked with a laugh, “I know those are important, you need them, and i can’t have you being blind all the time. Then you’d be an even bigger pain in my ass-“ He was cut off by a quick, playful punch to the arm.

“I am not a pain in your ass! You’re a bigger pain in mine from how often you like to steal them and stretch the legs out with your big head.”

“My head is not that big!”

A few laughs were exchanged, followed by a comfortable silence. The dim yellow light of the van, the sound of the rain hitting the sides, the darn atmosphere outside. One might even call it romantic. The thought brought a bit of blush to your cheeks, and you carefully took your glasses off of your face, moving just a bit closer to Eddie,

“You know, i never do get a good look of you in them.” You gently moved a few strands of his wet hair out of the way, carefully sliding your glasses onto his face and keeping yourself close to him to be able to get a proper look how how your glasses looked on him.

He blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust to them,

“How do i look?” He asked with a smirk.

“Good. Not as good as me, but good.” You giggled, “They do make you look a bit smarter.”

“I feel smarter.” He pulled down the sun visor and took a quick look at himself in the small mirror, “You think i can borrow them for when i take that english final?”

“No! I need them to see when i take mine.”

Eddie smiled to you, and though you couldn’t see much, you could see how sweetly he was looking into your eyes. His hand reached up and he gently removed the frames from his face, being sure to keep his careful pace as he turned them and slid them back onto yours,

“I think they look better on you anyways.”

His hand lingered on your cheek and you could feel the way his touch gave you butterflies like no one else had. He was so sweet, so kind, and watching him run back out into the pouring rain just for you was nothing short of romantic. He was being so gentle with you, and though you didn’t notice it at first, your faces were inching closer and closer to each other.

You could almost feel his lips against yours and you just couldn’t take it anymore. The moment was too beautiful to not take advantage of.

Your hand moved up quickly to his cheek, finally pulling his lips to yours and closing the space between you. It was a surprise to you both, but not an unwanted one.

His lips were soft, still slightly wet from the rain, but you never wanted to pull them away from yours. It was so perfect, everything felt so right.

As you slowly pulled back, his hand stayed on your cheek and yours behind his neck, still staying close to one another. Neither one of you was sure what to say, and all you could do was laugh.

It was all you could think to do at the situation.

“Should we do it again?” Eddie asked in between giggles.

“Of course,” You scooted in close to him, your hands moving his wet hair off of his shoulders as your arms pulled him in close, “it’s not weird that we kissed right?”

“If i thought it was weird,” Eddie’s hands moved to your waist, holding you close to him, “i wouldn’t be asking to kiss you again…”

Eddie pulled your body close to his, keeping a firm yet soft grip on your waist as your lips met once more, moving so softly and so sweetly with one another.

It was almost funny, and just the thought of the situation brought a smile to your lips as you kissed him. The whole ordeal seemed like something out of a hollywood movie.

The rain, the gesture, even Eddie reciprocating these feelings that were buried so deep down it felt like magic just to be able to finally express them. He had always given you butterflies but they’d never been like this.

As he slowly pulled his lips from yours, he glanced out the window just past your head, seeing that the rain was nowhere near stopping, and he looked to you once more as his hand brushed the hair from your face,

“I’m starting to dry off a little. Did you want to just sit here for a while? I don’t think we’ve ever really had the chance to just enjoy being with each other…” You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he spoke, “And i really like being with you (y/n).”

“I like being with you too Eddie.” Your hands moved from behind his neck to carefully hold his cheeks, moving his face down as your lips gently pressed to his forehead, “I really do.”

Eddie smiled big, and you could tell from the look on his face that he never wanted this moment to end. He adjusted his body on the seat, carefully laying himself out and leaving just enough room for you to squeeze in with him,

“Come here sweetheart,” His arms wrapped tightly around you as you laid with him, your head resting against his chest and your arm moving over his torso to hold him back, one of his arms around your shoulder as the other held your hip, “I want to enjoy this for as long as i can…”

He took a deep breath as he settled in with you, and you carefully adjusted yourself as you tried to find a comfortable position without your glasses pressing into your face. Eddie could feel you trying your best to get comfortable and his hand reached to carefully pull your glasses from your face,

“Here, let’s put these away for right now,” he folded the legs and carefully placed them onto the dashboard, leaning back into his comfortable position and allowing you to move yourself as you pleased, “and i’m putting them right up here so we don’t lose them again.”

You giggled and quickly leaned up, placing a soft kiss to his cheek as your head went back to resting on his chest, his arm moving back around your shoulder as the two of you settled into the comfortable velvet seats. It wasn’t the perfect place for a romantic moment, but that didn’t matter to you.

Eddie liked you for you, terrible eyesight and all, and it was so comforting to know that he would always think you looked better with your so called ‘imperfections’.

You both stared out the front window of the van, watching the rain hit the glass and keeping an eye on the clouds for even the slightest hint of sunlight.

You hated the rain, but wished it would pour all night.

[majorshatterandhare]

I found this while looking at photos for color reference. It wasn't helpful but it made me smile and I think you all might enjoy it too.

[ID: A photo of Dr. Carmilla and the Mechanisms. From left to right, the photo includes Nastya (Actor), Frank Voss, Maki Yamazaki, Jonny Sims, Morgan Wilkinson, and Ben Below. Maki and Jonny are standing back to back in the center of the frame. They are set forward as compared to the others. On the left, Nastya is crouched and Frank is behind them. On the right both Morgan and Ben are standing facing towards the center. Everyone but Nastya seems to be looking toward the camera.

Nastya has light skin and straight, brown, shoulder length hair, which is lighter at the ends. They are wearing rectangular glasses and a black choker. They are wearing a long sleeve, dark blue shirt, dark blue jeans, and green-brown boots. They have their hands on their knees.

Frank has mid-dark skin and bleached curly hair. They are wearing a dark shirt and have their right hand on Nastya's right shoulder. Most of Frank is unseen. They seem to be wearing blue jeans and brown shoes.

Maki is standing side-to and smirking at the camera. She has light skin and short, dark hair. They are wearing red lipstick and eye make up. She has on a white button up shirt with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, underneath a black vest, with a black bandana tied just above her left elbow. They wearing black pants with a black belt that has a white flower on it and brown boots. She is holding onto a silver patterned cane in front of her.

Jonny is also standing side-to the camera. He has light skin and short brown hair. He has short facial hair and is wearing black, vein-y eye make up. He is wearing a black velveteen coat over a dark collared shirt, black slacks with a long black braided belt, the end of which hangs to his back, and black boots. He has one hand on his belt and the other is held, relaxed, next to his coat's button placket; it has something drawn on the back in black.

Morgan has his hands on his hips. He has light skin and short, straight, bright red hair. He is wearing a red and black corset style bodice with an ankle-length black layered skirt and black boots.

Ben has light skin and short curly hair of indeterminate color due to lighting. He is wearing a white, long sleeve, button up shirt under a vest which is brown and striped with gold and filigree designs. He is wearing black jeans and brown sneakers. In his only visible hand, he is holding something small, black, and square; it appears to be a flask.

They are stand on and in front of a photography backdrop which is a marbled white color. Past the edges of the backdrop the wall behind them can be seen to have many framed pictures on it as well as some large glass tubes behind Ben's head. There is also something brown and square off the edge near to Ben and a stand of some kind just barely on the backdrop. There is neutral lighting coming from behind the camera and in front of the subjects, as well as harsh red lighting from off camera but to the right side of the photo. This causes significant reflection on the skin and hair of Ben, Morgan, and Frank, as well as a lesser red reflection on Jonny.

In the lower right hand corner there is a water mark reading "Lyon Photography" in a white, all lowercase, handwritten style font. End ID]

This photo was on the Mechanisms facebook page, posted June 10, 2011 and is from the Vaudeville Rave.

[des-no9]

My Kith'rak Voss cosplay armour and silver sword details!

So over the summer most of you know I made a cosplay of Voss' armour, including his silver sword. And here's a thread of it all, but details. I'm making some improvements to it as I'm wearing it again next month, but just mostly to the leather bits, and re-doing the back piece.

Here's the pics of me wearing it at Kitacon.

Enjoy!

I think I'm most proud of the sword, even if it's wonky in places. Going to stabilise the handle and top part before end of Nov too.

I made the entire armour (exluding the shoulders) from a pattern I made from ducktaping my body, so it all pretty much fits really well.

And the breastplate was extremely comfortable and imo, looked really good. There's some damage to the seams at the edge that needs fixed.

The bracers were the first things I made but the last things I detailed because I had no idea how tf to do that (drew on with my rotary tool in the end) and the knee armour (stupid) were the 2nd things I made.

A very awkward shape to construct but they turned out really nice.

I think I made the shoulders too big, but they look so nice lol.

I need to figure out how to better attach them to my body, they were a nightmare to wear. I think I've figured it out, but.....hmmm.

I think I'm most pleased with the hip plate/belt combo of the armour. It looks so nice all together and sits on my body really nice.

Detailing these drove me bonkers for some reason idk just so many curves to sand lmao (there's a second one underneath).

Really love all the belt bits. Another lot I'm figuring out how to attach to me better. Because any bending or lots of movement and they were falling down. Just, attachments of the armour was my whole weak point. Fixing all of that for Nov.

Detailing the greaves was absolute hell LOL. So much sanding and noise and dust and curves and cutting and sanding my nails and knuckles off.

But, they look nice.

And lastly ofc, his circlet. I also made one of these for Van's cosplay I never wore because they interfere with her horns. But I'm going to try and fix that at some point before next year's con.

Anyway. These are easy, so easy to make compared to everything else. And are cute af.

The whole thing was one of the biggest labours of love I've ever done and I would do it all over again just for Voss.

I'm hopefully going to get some nice shots of me in his armour next month at least one of the cons I'm going to.

Thank you! I hope you enjoyed.

-Des x

[daisyofwaterdeep]

PLEEEEEEASE WRITE MEAN DOM VOSS you could give him an alien dick. Whatever you want. The stars are hardly the limit

nyohoho thank you for this request, i was losing my mind while writing it (★‿★)

dom!Voss/cisfem!Reader

CW: face fucking, rough sex, pain, dom/sub, paid sex, alien genitalia

________

-you go to Sharess' Caress with the express purpose of getting laid. After a few bad dates, you're desperate to forget yourself for a bit

-You had never seen a githyanki before, but you know enough about them to know what the man is when you see him

-He's not drinking, not chatting. Just standing there, sharp copper eyes silently observing the patrons around him

-If he's not here to socialize, then surely he's here as a worker...right?

-You approach him, feeling so small and vulnerable under his intense gaze. You stumble over your words as you ask him if he's currently available to provide...services

-Voss is weary when a human approaches him, but as she blushes and stutters out her words, Voss finds himself feeling...something. He should be offended that she thought he was a common prostitute, that a flimsy istik would think they could approach him so casually for something so sordid

-But instead, he decides that this could be beneficial for him. Clearing his mind with a night of vigorous intercourse could be advantageous, and acquiring some funds at the same time? Tactically speaking, it's quite a good situation

-And, he has to admit, breaking a pretty human like you is an appealing thought

-He leans close to your ear, his breath surprisingly cool against your skin

-"Do you know what you're getting yourself into, little girl?"

-You don't, not at all, and the chilled, intimate tone of his voice makes you even more uncertain. But Gods, you can smell him like this, metal and sweat and something distinctly vicious, strong...it makes your stomach drop and your skin break out in chills. You nod

-Voss goes to the front counter, and the next thing you know, you're alone in a rented room with him

-He walks toward the center of the room, and you can hear the sound of buckles and leather moving as his arms work in front of him. The leather guard around his hips falls to the ground before he turns back to you. His lithe green thighs are exposed, and you can see his underwear-- a strappy black number that just barely covers his essentials

-"Come."

-You walk forward and stop in front of him

-"Kneel."

-You obey. With him right in front of you like this, you can really smell him. Sweat, spent adrenaline, and that undefinable but unmissable scent of masculinity. His copper eyes command your undivided attention as he pulls at a black leather strap, unraveling his underwear and releasing his cock

-It's as long and lean as the rest of him, a slightly darker shade than his body with black mirrored spots along the thickest point of his base that scatter into a larger pattern across his hips. The tip is tapered to a fleshy point, and you can see his cockslit is longer and deeper than a human's, about three centimeters starting from his tip and going along the top of his length. With it's position, his precum oozes into a small pool created by his puffy slit, making your mouth water

-You expect another command-- something as short and succinct as the others, 'suck' or 'open' or maybe even 'worship it', but instead, strong fingers wrap around the back of your head before pulling your hair tightly and forcing you forward. You have no other choice but to open and take him in

-Much like his breath, his cock is surprisingly cool. And the taste of his precum is also different than what you know-- it has the same salty base, but there's a metallic tang to it, almost making it sour. You wonder if it's a Githyanki thing, or a him thing

-You roll your tongue around the tapered tip, lapping at the long, swollen slit and dipping into it as far as you can. You look up at him as you do so, wondering if his expression will change. He's watching you, but he looks exactly the same-- still hard, focused, indiscernable. Either he's used to having his dick sucked, or he's well trained in keeping his composure. You wonder which it is.

-Voss lets you have your fun for a minute or so. When you had seen his dick, it was clear that he was your first Githyanki. In fairness, he would be surprised if you had taken one before-- Githyanki don't make habits of sleeping with Istik. He lets you explore him, mouth meltingly hot against his length as your tongue prods and laps and explores. Pleasant heat fills his stomach, but it's not enough....he needs more

-Without warning, he bucks his hips into your mouth, forcing his length to the back of your throat. You gag harshly, hands going up to grip at his thighs, but he's so much stronger than you. All you can do is fight to not vomit as he begins thrusting fast and vicious into your mouth. He uses the hand in your hair to bob your head in time with his humping, and all you can do is gurgle out exclamations that get lost in the sloppy sounds of your saliva being pushed deep in your throat. Even as tears cloud your vision and drool runs down your chin, the man still looks completely unperturbed. If it weren't for his hard cock assaulting you, you would think that he wasn't even turned on

-But Voss is turned on, very much so. The way you immediately crumble into tears and choked noises arouses him. You're just so weak, but even if you're in distress, you don't try to fight him. You could easily sink your teeth into his cock, you could scratch at his thighs, and yet you take him. You want to be dominated by him, to please him, and he's happy to oblige

-When he finally pulls your head back, you're an absolute mess-- gasping for air, coughing, cheeks ruddy and tear-streaked. He slaps his drool-slicked cock against your cheek, face still completely unreadable as he looks down at you

-"Undress."

-You obey with shaky limbs as he stands there watching. He doesn't move to take anything off, but you suppose he doesn't need to-- this isn't about exploring bodies, about intimacy. His spit-slick cock is out, and that's all he needs

-As soon as you step out of your underwear, a strong hand grabs you by the arm and spins you around. Cold armor presses into your back, and you feel his cock against the cleft of your ass. That cool breath is at your ear again

-"You'll take what I give you. Understood?"

-You nod, body jittery and heart hammering. With how severe the man is, you wonder if the forceful words are as close to a consent check as he's capable

-Before you've even finished nodding, a strong hand wraps around your thigh and lifts it, making you gasp and lean back into the Githyanki for balance as you're left standing on one foot

-And then he's in you. There's no playful sliding against your entrance, no buildup to the big moment--he just enters you with a brutal jerk of his hips, his full length slamming inside and stretching you full with a searing pain

-You choke out a wounded noise that quickly rises into a slew of whimpers as he begins fucking you with all the blind need of a dog mounting it's bitch. The curve of his metal armor bites into your skin and his nails dig deeply into your soft flesh as his breaths pick up against your ear, the smallest shiver of a groan under his heavy exhales

-"Are you this wet from tasting my cock?" There's a strain to his voice, the first betrayal of just how much this is affecting him, "Are you so pathetic, ah, that you desire to be used like this?" He growls low in his throat, "To be dominated?"

-You can hardly understand what he's breathing against your neck-- it's all you can do to not topple over and cry with just how overwhelming it all is. The thick slide of his cock, again and again, as deep as it can go, as fast and as hard as it can go. It hurts, it burns, but it also feels fucking phenomenal. This, right now, is what the word 'fucking' was invented for. Because this isn't sex--this is animalistic, brutal, savage fucking

-A particularly deep plunge has his pointed cock tip pressing against your cervix and the sudden bolt of pain turns your stomach and makes you cry out, the knee keeping you standing giving out

-Rather then catch you, the Githyanki releases your thigh and lets you crumble to the floor. Your pussy aches and clenches around nothing as you catch your breath, grateful for the opportunity to to collect yourself

-But it's short lived, because those strong hands are shoving your face down and forcing you on your knees, ass up, and then he's inside you again

-The new angle lets him pound you harder and faster, a feat you didn't think was possible. All you can do is hiccup out pathetic noises as your body takes the rough impact of his hips again and again, your pussy clenching around his cock and drawing pleased groans from the man

-The new angle also has his cock practically beating into your g-spot. Any pain you might feel--the floor grinding into your knees, your cheek smashed against the wood, his nails viciously raking down your back--none of it matters in the face of the pleasure that's assaulting you in thick, overwhelming waves

-Your orgasm comes as a surprise to you--it happens all at once, your throat constricted around a half shout as your entire body locks up and shakes. You can feel your pussy tighten around his cock and he hisses in response, hips forgoing their full-length thrusts for quick, shallow ones

-He begins talking, his voice a rushed, low whine as he speaks in his mother tongue. You have no idea what he's saying, but can feel the weight of the words, the way he stresses syllables with particularly rough thrusts, the way he fluctuates between whispers and groans as he speaks

-He thrusts once more into you before stilling, pressing the full weight of himself against your ass, burying himself as deep as he can as you feel heat flood inside you. As tired as your body is, you still dutifully clench around him, milking him through his orgasm as he lets out a long, satisfied moan

-Even though he's surely sensitive, he pumps himself a few more times inside of you to chase the last dregs of his climax before finally pulling out. You can feel his semen and your juices dribbling from your abused cunt and down your thighs

-Now that the hard edge of desire has subsided, you're not sure what's going to happen. You sit up, embarrassed to find your cheek sticky with drool. You wipe at it as you turn around to look at him. Even though he definitely got heated, you didn't get to see his face during any of it. Sadly though, he's still as inscutable as ever, looking at you levelly.

-You mumble out something about getting his money as you look around the floor for your discarded clothes, but he grabs your wrist and raises an eyebrow

-"Did I say I was finished with you?" He looks over your bare body cursorily before pulling the both of you to your feet. "We're done when I say we're done."

-It's then that you notice that his cock is still stiff-- once again, you don't know if it's a Githyanki thing, or if this man is just incredible

-Either way, you don't complain as you're dragged over to the bed for another round

[intergalacticfop]

Dating a Jacket, Part 1

The Eighteenth-Century Assumption

Part 2 here

Sometimes you come across a piece of clothing and the date just seems a little too ambiguous. That was the case with this jacket, number 1981.314.2, held by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is said to be from the 2nd quarter of the 18th century. The good people at the Costume Institute within the Met were kind enough to take detailed photos of the jacket for me, including details of construction. These images were invaluable in allowing me to create my own version, but have also given me some questions about their chosen date. I am not allowed to share the images they took for me without express permission, so if necessary I will include photos from my own jacket.

First, let us remind ourselves of what the jacket looks like:

Left: jacket, Italian, 1981.314.2. Dated 2nd quarter 18th c. Metropolitan Museum of Art. Right: my own recreation of the same jacket.

The Met gives the original jacket a moderately wide date range of 2nd quarter of the 18th century, so between 1725 and 1750. And I can see what influenced them to make that decision. At first glance, the overall shape has strong similarities with the examples below of wide-necked riding jackets.

Left: Casaquin, textile 1710-1720, garment 1720-1730. Right: Casaquin, c. 1730-1740. Both from Palais Galliera

Left: Agnieszka Emercjanna Pociej ascribed to Ádám Mányoki, before 1722. Right: Lucy Pelham-Holles by Godfrey Kneller, 1722.

Left: Sophie Marie von Voss by Antoine Pesne, 1746-1751. Right: Maria-Antonia von Fürstenberg by Franz Josef Weiss, 1758.

Please note, however, that regional fashion changes do exist and none of the examples are Italian. I could not find any images of similar jackets from Italy. If anyone does have images of riding habits/jackets from Italy in the first half of the 18th century, I'd love to see them! However, these images do show at least a moderate geographic distribution of this trend: France, Germany (Prussia and Swabia), England, and Poland. All of the examples feature a wider neckline than the close-to-the-neck style found in men's coats and in some other women's riding jackets, and also feature metallic trim embellishing the front and cuffs. So far, so good, right? Well--let's dig deeper.

First, what do I mean by "riding jacket?" I am using the phrase to denote these and other women’s jackets from the 17th and 18th century that are inspired by menswear and originally used for the purpose of riding and hunting. Some of you may be more familiar with the term "riding habit" in which the jacket is worn with a matching petticoat and maybe a waistcoat to create a complete outfit.

Many of these jackets have trends directly borrowed from menswear like pockets and button-fronts, and fasten at the center front without a stomacher. However, as riding jackets and riding habits became an acceptable part of fashionable dress, some of these characteristics may have been adapted, or vanished almost entirely, as is the case with the two French casaquins seen above. These jackets represent the way that practical garments adapted to fashionable tastes. You can see Mme Gaspard de Peleran wearing a very similar jacket in this sketch by Liotard–its equestrian nature is denoted by the long riding whip she holds in her hand.

Madame Gaspard de Péleran by Jean-Etienne Liotard, est 1738-1742 (my estimate is based on Liotard's residence in Turkey from 1738 to 1742, where the subject's husband was French Consul in Smyrna)

So where do my doubts about the Met's jacket come from? Well, it's mainly the construction. When we look at extant riding jackets, however, the vast majority of the (admittedly few) originals have front waist seams, something absent from my own. The brocade casaquin above? waist seam. The pink casaquin? can't say, hidden by lace, could be either. This 1730-1750 riding jacket from the Snowshill Wade Costume collection was even patterned in Janet Arnold's Patterns of Fashion Volume 1, pp 24-25, so you can really see the waist seam:

Whether plain or ornate, you'll probably find a waist seam!

Left: Riding Jacket, 1740s, John Bright Collection. Right: Riding Coat, 1750-1759, V&A Museum.

I found exactly one riding jacket which clearly does not have a front waist seam, and it's from very early in the period:

Jacket, 1710-1725, Palais Galliera.

If we look at paintings, we do find a few more examples that seemingly don't have a waist seam. Some of these might be artistic license or simply the artist not wanting to paint every single seam, but I'm inclined to believe at least some of them, like this painting by Nicholas Lancret:

Picnic After the Hunt (detail) by Nicolas Lancret, 1735-1740, National Gallery of Art.

Why do I trust it? The waist wrinkles. Ask me how I know...

Okay, so, a waist seam of lack thereof isn't proof one or the other about dating. But there are other oddities of construction as well. For instance, looking at this picture of my own jacket, do you see the pocket? These pockets have no flap and are cut straight across, whereas every other example I've shown so far has a pocket flap. This is much more in keeping with men's coats from the same period:

Left: Coat, British, 1720s, Met Costume Institute. Right: Coat, German, 1720s-1730s, LACMA.

Also, where are the rest of the buttons? The jacket held by the Met has 100 buttons total--33 along the front, 8 along each pocket, and 17 along the side and back vents. These men's coats, the most button-heavy of all the examples shown here, have buttons along the fronts, below the pocket flaps, and along the top cuffs, but none running along the vents:

In addition, the Met jacket has large contrasting cuffs, which does not seem to be as much an element of jackets from the 2nd quarter of the 18th century, unless it matched a waistcoat.

Top: Le Repas au retour de la chasse (detail) by Nicolas Lancret, c. 1725. Bottom Left: Anna Katarzyna Orzelska by Louis de Silvestre, c.1730. (red waistcoat matching cuffs is just visible at front opening below lace). Bottom Right: Coat, c. 1735, National Museums Scotland.

None of these cuffs have a heavy trim around the edge though, like the pleated pink ribbon and silver braid on the Met's jacket. It is possible that the cuffs and trim are a later addition, but just comparing the braid on the cuffs to the braid on the rest of the jacket, they appear to be the same 4-strand silver metallic braid.

While this does not rule out the possibility that they were an addition made at a different time, it does make it, in my opinion, most likely that the cuffs are contemporary to the rest of the jacket. In addition, most cuffs of 1725-1750 jackets and coats are cut separately to the sleeve and then attached, whereas the cuffs of my jacket are cut in one with the sleeve and folded back.

So where does that leave us? Well, the Met appears to be correct in noticing that wide-necked riding jackets are largely a phenomenon of the early-to-mid 18th century. The large turned-back cuffs and lack of a waist seam would probably push this earlier in their proposed date range, closer to the 1720s than the 1750s. In my next post, however, I will introduce another possibility--what if the jacket is earlier? Maybe even much earlier?

Part 2

Additional Resources:

Images of more riding jackets found at the 18th Century Notebook from Larsdatter

@vincentbriggs has detailed posts on 1730s coat construction here and here, and in general is a font of knowledge for 18th-century tailoring.

jeannedepompadour.blogspot.com has a good collection of images of early 18th-century riding jackets.

Janet Arnold, Patterns of Fashion vol 1. Originally Published 1972, reissued 2021 by School of Historical Dress.

[ladyofvoss]

FFXIVWrite 2024 #5: Stamp

noun: a mark or pattern made by a stamping instrument, especially one indicating official validation or certification.

There, it was official.

Narumi beheld the document in her hands, marked with elegant script, and the wax seal denoting the House of Ul's authority.

A royal summons to Nanamo Ul Namo's household, to serve in an official capacity as her lady-in-waiting. And for the first time, Narumi felt she could breathe. It took some convincing; neither Mother nor Father were comfortable with the idea of Narumi taking residence in Ul'dah, right at the heart of the royal palace and the pit of vipers that was its court.

But she won them over, with the idea that House Voss was always a friend to the royal family, that General Aldyn would be close at hand should she need help, that there was no better place for her to try to better her reputation, her skills, her social circle.

"Well", her mother conceded, "If it's truly what you want...."

And it was. Perhaps this would be the start of something different. As a member of the royal household, perhaps this would be the start of elevating their family's standing. No whispers of curses, no barely concealed disdain. They would be respectable again.

They would be safe.

Now it was time for her to pack, to prepare. She had a lot of work to do.

[archangelsunited]

My thing on the Vlaakith Vs. Orpheus thing is that Vlaakith would of made her own bed. If we were at any random point in time MAYBE it would shift to Vlaakith’s favor, but we aren’t.

Vlaakith’s control is slipping. We see this in how Voss goes against her will, and how even the kids are getting the idea that maybe this killing eachother is stupid. Do you think commanding her inquisitors to murder Lae’zel for doing her job was unusual? I don’t. People eventually notice patterns.

I’m not saying that the propaganda isn’t a powerful tool, or that Vlaakith isn’t powerful, I’m saying that she’s gotten too comfortable and her people are starting to notice things aren’t adding up.

The fact they can’t get rid of the parasite. The promising warriors who disappear never to be seen again. Various little lies that add up to a conclusion- and the gothyanki have all the time in the world to reach that conclusion.

Added to the fact Orpheus appears and DOES keep his promises. He does fight the ghaik. He does so from the front lines. For a culture that loves war- who are they going to turn towards? The Queen slowly eating them, or the Legendary prince who is going to a.) lead them to fight and b.)not be a petty ass bitch.

[theironwarsmith]

XX Legion Voss pattern Lightning Strike Fighter 'Alpha-Vector'

It has probably been the longest I've spent on a model in a long time. This has been a little therapeutic too. I've quite enjoyed making an aircraft again, the Voss-pattern Lightning Strike Fighter has been one of my favourites for some time and I've been meaning to get another for one of my armies.

I wanted to try something different with this though, so it is a little bit of a diorama with the Alpha Legion infiltrators on its base, directing forces and calling in airstrikes on centres of opposition.

[matrim-cauthons-hat]

so, the voss pattern lightning is air superiority fighter, right, armed with missiles and lascanon, whereas the thunderbolt heavy fighter is armed with missile/bomb, lascanon, and autocannon, and is described as a bomber hunter, ground attacker, and dogfighter (idk why its not just described as a multirole fighter), which makes me think that, doctrinely, autocanon is meant to be used for antiarmour operations, like the 23mms on a il-2 sturmavik. like, does that make sense to everyone else? i dont sound like a madwoman?

[blackjackkent]

Rakha's attitude towards the creche is interestingly different from Hector's.

a) She trusts Lae'zel implicitly, so she fully believes that this is a place where they will be welcomed and cleansed of the worm, and that Voss's "treachery" out on the road was a him problem only.

b) She has no religious history, so she is not bothered by the story of the monks and what happened to them.

c) The first thing she sees on approaching is a couple other gith obliterating one of several halfling cultists with a crossbow bolt directly to the back of the neck, which makes the dark urge in her head feel uncomfortably good.

"Forward. Carefully," Lae'zel says. "These cultists have the creche on high alert."

Rakha isn't really surprised to hear that. The gith are mortal enemies of the illithid. They are also (to judge by Lae'zel) fanatically loyal to their goddess. The cultists use modified illithid worms and speak of a different goddess - an almost exact counterpoint.

Yet more reason to think they will find allies here.

-----

The gith patrol is gone too fast to speak to - and lock the door of the monastery behind them. Luckily, the place is lined with heavy windows of thick, tinted glass in ornate patterns; Rakha wastes no time smashing one open with the butt of one of her quarterstaffs.

Inside, the place smells of must and blood and alcohol. Most of the front area of the fortress is infested with small, lizardlike creatures that Wyll calls kobolds, all of whom appear to be availing themselves of the place's considerable store of wine.

As always, the beast in Rakha's head perks up eagerly, hungry to add to the deaths that have happened in this place - and it seems maybe the kobolds have the same idea, as they attack on sight. As usual, Rakha charges with immediate, blind fury at the nearest of the creatures, fire flaring around her fists-- and immediately, she learns something else new about the world to add to her store of facts:

Fire and alcohol don't mix well.

The kobold dies screaming and the beast keens with excitement in Rakha's brain, and she cries out with a strange mix of agony and ecstasy as the flames engulf her.

"Rakha!" Wyll yells with an unexpected air of panic.

But the flames subside and reveal Rakha burning within - and glowing with a pale orange light as her magic surges and floods and whips around her. Her off-hand lashes out and cracks a second kobold across the head, snapping his neck.

"Whoa," Wyll mutters.

"She doesn't lack for style, one has to admit," Shadowheart says with a flash of humor.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Aaron Sibarium

Published: Dec 11, 2023

Harvard University president Claudine Gay plagiarized numerous academics over the course of her academic career, at times airlifting entire paragraphs and claiming them as her own work, according to reviews by several scholars.

In four papers published between 1993 and 2017, including her doctoral dissertation, Gay, a political scientist, paraphrased or quoted nearly 20 authors—including two of her colleagues in Harvard University’s department of government—without proper attribution, according to a Washington Free Beacon analysis. Other examples of possible plagiarism, all from Gay’s dissertation, were publicized Sunday by the Manhattan Institute’s Christopher Rufo and Karlstack’s Chris Brunet.

The Free Beacon worked with nearly a dozen scholars to analyze 29 potential cases of plagiarism. Most of them said that Gay had violated a core principle of academic integrity as well as Harvard’s own anti-plagiarism policies, which state that "it's not enough to change a few words here and there."

Rather, scholars are expected to cite the sources of their work, including when paraphrasing, and to use quotation marks when quoting directly from others. But in at least 10 instances, Gay lifted full sentences—even entire paragraphs—with just a word or two tweaked.

In her 1997 thesis, for example, she borrowed a full paragraph from a paper by the scholars Bradley Palmquist, then a political science professor at Harvard, and Stephen Voss, one of Gay’s classmates in her Ph.D. program at Harvard, while making only a couple alterations, including changing their "decrease" to "increase" because she was studying a different set of data.

The four papers that include plagiarized material comprise a sizable portion of Gay’s academic work. Gay, who is Harvard's 30th president, has authored just 11 peer-reviewed articles.

"If this were a stand-alone instance, it would be reprehensible but perhaps excused as the blunder of someone working hastily," said Peter Wood, a former associate provost of Boston University, where he helped investigate several cases of suspected plagiarism. "But that excuse vanishes as the examples multiply," said Wood, who now serves as the director of the National Association of Scholars.

Some of the most clear-cut cases come in Gay’s 1997 dissertation, "Taking Charge: Black Electoral Success and the Redefinition of American Politics," which copied two paragraphs almost verbatim from Palmquist and Voss.

The paragraphs—from a paper Palmquist and Voss had presented a year earlier, in 1996—do not appear in quotation marks. One is unmodified but for a handful of words, and Gay does not cite Palmquist or Voss anywhere in her dissertation.

"This is definitely plagiarism," said Lee Jussim, a social psychologist at Rutgers University, who reviewed 10 side-by-side comparisons provided by the Free Beacon, including the paragraphs from Gay’s dissertation, which received a prize from Harvard for "exceptional merit."

"The longer passages are the most egregious," he added.

Academics say the pattern raises serious questions about Gay’s scholarly integrity and her fitness to lead the nation’s oldest university, which has been at the center of a political firestorm under her watch, particularly since Oct. 7. Student activists have blamed Israel for the Hamas terrorist attack and Gay herself offered equivocal testimony before Congress about whether calls for the genocide of Jews violate Harvard’s code of conduct.

Donors, alumni, and over 70 congressmen have called on Gay to resign. University of Pennsylvania president Liz Magill, who testified alongside Gay, tendered her resignation on Saturday.

"The question here is whether the president of an elite institution such as Harvard can feasibly have an academic record this marred by obvious plagiarism," said Alexander Riley, a sociologist at Bucknell University. "I do not see how Harvard could possibly justify keeping her in that position in light of this evidence."

Neither Gay nor Harvard responded to a request for comment.

Other cases of near-verbatim quotation occur in two peer-reviewed journal articles from 2017 and 2012, when Gay was a tenured professor at Harvard, as well as in an essay she published one year out of college, in 1993. Along with her dissertation, the decades-long pattern paints a picture of sloppiness, at best, and willful dishonesty at worst.

"It seems clear that Gay had a habit of using others' words in ways that violated Harvard's policies," a professor at a top research university, who received his Ph.D. from Harvard’s government department, told the Free Beacon. "And several examples would land any student in serious trouble."

Gay’s 1993 essay, "Between Black and White: The Complexity of Brazilian Race Relations," lifts sentences and historical details from two scholars, David Covin and George Reid Andrews, with just a few words dropped or modified. Covin is not cited anywhere in the essay.

In a section called "Suggestions for Further Reading," Gay does include Andrews’s 1991 book, Blacks & Whites in São Paulo, Brazil, 1888-1988, but not his 1992 paper, "Black Political Protest in São Paulo, 1888-1988," from which the offending text was drawn.

The 1993 essay "concerns me less," Riley said, given how early it was in Gay’s career. "However, it shows a quantity of plagiarism so egregious that minimally Dr. Gay should stop putting it on her CV."

The two peer-reviewed papers, by contrast, are "much more serious," Riley said.

In "Moving To Opportunity: the Political Effects of a Housing Mobility Experiment," Gay borrowed language from a 2003 report by eight researchers—three of them Harvard economists—prepared for the Department of Housing and Urban Development.

And in "A Room for One’s Own? The Partisan Allocation of Affordable Housing," Gay borrowed language from a 2010 book by Alex Schwartz, Housing Policy in the United States, and from a 2011 paper by Matthew Freedman and Emily Owens, "Low-Income Housing Development and Urban Crime."

Freedman and Owens are never cited, though Gay thanks them for letting her use their data. Gay does cite Schwartz and the eight researchers elsewhere in "Moving to Opportunity" but not in the sentences where their quotes appear. None of the passages have quotation marks, creating the impression that they are Gay’s own language and ideas.

Some examples are more borderline than others, scholars who reviewed them said, but clearly violate Harvard’s guide on sourcing, which requires citations even when using "ideas that you did not think up yourself," regardless of how much the language has changed. Plagiarism, the guide adds, is "unacceptable in all academic situations, whether you do it intentionally or by accident."

Even crediting a source in the wrong sentence, as Gay did repeatedly, is a serious offense under Harvard’s policies. The school’s sourcing guide includes multiple examples of "mosaic plagiarism," in which placing a citation too late or too early in a passage causes "confusion over where your source's ideas end and your own ideas begin."

Gabriel Rossman, a sociologist at the University of California, Los Angeles, said that several portions of Gay’s work met the definition of "mosaic plagiarism" outlined in Harvard’s guide. So did Steve McGuire, a member of the American Council of Trustees and Alumni and a former professor of political theory at Villanova University, who said the examples "violate the expectations Harvard has for its own students."

"As a professor, I would not have accepted this kind of work from a first semester freshman," McGuire told the Free Beacon. "It’s appalling to see it in the work of Harvard’s president."

Rossman, who specializes in quantitative research, noted that some of the examples involve technical descriptions of statistical methods, which "can require very precise wording" and are often repeated between authors, a potentially mitigating factor. But an editor at one of the five most-cited academic journals in the world pushed back on that notion, arguing that even that sort of duplication in academic prose is difficult to defend.

"The text duplication points to carelessness, sloppiness, and short-cut taking," said the editor, who has edited journals in both the natural and social sciences.

Some of the victims of Gay’s plagiarism were more sanguine. Jeffrey Liebman, one of the Harvard economists who prepared the Department of Housing report, said he and four of his coauthors did "not see any signs of plagiarism." Like Rossman, he argued that it was defensible for scholars to crib technical descriptions from each other.

Gay "had the right to use and adapt this common language," he said.

Voss, who coauthored the 1996 paper with Palmquist, said that although the paragraphs Gay quoted were "technically plagiarism," they were "not terribly important" to her argument.

"If I caught a student doing that, I would tell them it was inappropriate," Voss said. "But I would never consider taking action against the student."

But Wood, the former Boston University associate provost, said the feelings of the plagiarized are irrelevant.

The "willingness of the actual author to go along with the copying (whether before the fact or afterwards) doesn't change the deceptive nature of the act of plagiarism," he said. "The plagiarist is breaking the trust of the community of readers. In the case of scholarship, the whole university community is the victim."

It is common for plagiarized authors to come to the defense of their plagiarizer, Wood said. When Princeton historian Kevin Kruse was accused of plagiarizing Ronald Bayor, a historian at Georgia Tech, for example, Bayor dismissed the accusations as "politically motivated."

Other cases of possible plagiarism—all from Gay’s dissertation—were uncovered Sunday by the Manhattan Institute’s Rufo and Karlstack’s Brunet. Though the revelations are new, rumors of Gay’s plagiarism have been circulating on econjobrumors.com, a popular message board for social scientists, since at least January 2023.

"Most plagiarists turn out to be serial thieves," Wood said. "If the offense is discovered in one publication, typically it will be found in others."

In a statement to the Boston Globe, Gay said she stood by the integrity of her scholarship.

The Harvard Corporation, which held an emergency meeting over the weekend after Gay’s disastrous testimony on Capitol Hill last week, did not respond to a request for comment.

Update 10:10 p.m.: An earlier version of this story incorrectly stated that Gay had not cited Alex Schwartz in the paragraph where his quote appears. She did cite him in that paragraph, but not in the sentence where she quoted him.

==

This is what happens when you hire for DEI, not merit.

In spite of all of this, Claudine Gay should not be fired for plagiarism, any more than Kendi should be rejected for his financial mismanagement. Because this misses the point.

Harvard's own paper, The Harvard Crimson, reports that over 700 staff and faculty are in support of her remaining on. They cite "university independence." Which should reasonably be taken as an agreement to no longer accept public funding, even though that level of integrity is not what they meant.

What the 700 supporters does indicate is how far and how extensively the ideological corruption has set in. That's the reason she should be dismissed. She should be let go because Harvard has decided to abandon intersectional DEI garbage as its primary telos, and to reclaim its academic integrity and rebuild its - perhaps irreparably - damaged reputation.

The problem is that, unsurprisingly, its council have officially chosen the intersectional DEI garbage over any pretence to integrity.