#What Measure Is A Non-Human

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

It was a fleeting mention once since the Revived Series started,

in which the Inspector expressed regret for the non-Infinity Knight Kayaclaschians who were wiped out with their overlords by the Time Wave.

‘There were others, not Infinity Knights, who perished in the Time Wave. They never deserved that.’

[powerofmettatonneo]

Happy Birthday Jason!/An Announcement + Bonus Content

After half a month of no updates on What Measure is a Non-Human, I finally have one! And, since y'all have been dedicated enough to follow my Tumblr, y'all get to be the first ones to know (all one of you currently; hi IYP! Thanks for all the support!).

I've been hard at work writing the story, but not spending as much time editing it as I would like, so I'm currently sitting on two-three chapters. This is because the mental downtime I have at my job gives me a lot of time to think of ideas that I want to immediately write down before I forget them, but the physical time I spend there takes away from the time I can spend editing it. I could hypothetically release them with less editing done on them, but I want to hold myself to a higher standard of what I release into the world and do genuinely enjoy the editing process. However, with that all being said, I have three days off in a row, and I'm going to use this chance to buckle down and try and get them ready for publication by Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, I can't promise anything, but I do have other news that I can make assurances on.

I've decided that Valentine's Day is Jason's birthday. I wanted to give most of the major characters birth months, at least, just for chronological cohesion; I chose this day in particular for Jason because I have personal history with the day that, when combined with the fact that he's the mc of a romance story, made it the perfect day for him. In celebration of his birthday, I have written out a 7k word prequel one-shot all about the confession/first kiss that I will be posting on Valentine's Day, come hell or high water.

I actually wrote a first draft of the first kiss portion all the way back in December, right after the second chapter, and as a bonus for those of you who take the time to find this post, whether now or in the future, I'm going to share it with you. Most of it will be repetitive to the last bit of the finished story, so beware of spoilers I guess (but this is a prequel anyways so like do they even matter), but I have added enough to the final product to make it stand out and above. Really, this is largely just to archive it as I think it's interesting to see how any story evolves over time, much less my own, and I hope y'all feel the same way. See y'all on Valentine's Day, and without further ado, here goes the original first kiss scene (also fair warning, there's still no smut, but it does get more explicit than I've previously allowed it to):

…Hazel reached up and kissed him. Jason entered a state of shock, freezing in place. At first, his mind went completely and totally blank, but that quickly changed into a series of scattered thoughts as his mind tried to reconfigure itself. I'm being kissed. By Hazel. Who is a Pokemon. Oh Arceus, I’m being kissed by a Pokemon—and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever felt. As soon as he returned to coherent thought, however, the kiss ended. Hazel pulled away, and Jason could see that she looked… scared. The look in her eyes was the same that he had when he confessed his feelings to her. It hit him then; the kiss was her idea of a response, and he had just frozen in place like an idiot. He could imagine the doubts and fears rushing through her at his complete lack of a reaction. He also knew exactly how to alleviate them.

Jason narrowed the gap between them and restarted the kiss. He could clearly feel the surprise in his partner and just as clearly feel it melt away as she returned it. Her lips felt velvety against his as they both pushed against each other with all their might. All of the nerves, the adrenaline, the raw energy they were feeling was channeled into the kiss. They fell back onto the bed, Hazel on top, and didn't stop for a second. It felt like they were melting together, becoming one.

Hazel broke from the kiss, and before Jason had a chance to react, she dragged her tongue across his lips. She moved it down, trailing along his chin and neck, resulting in a small moan escaping his mouth. When she arrived at his shirt, she grabbed it with her teeth and began tugging at it.

“S-stop,” Jason gasped, lightly pushing his partner back. Hazel let go of his shirt and stared at him, a look of disappointment in her eyes. It hurt him to see it, but he had read enough ‘romance’ stories to know where this was going.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t do this right now,” he said, trying to let her down gently.

“Umbre,” she whimpered, looking down at her feet. She felt ashamed at herself for pushing so hard so fast and afraid of what her best friend would think of her for it. Or, she did, until the implication of those last two words hit her. She jolted her head back back up and was met with a worried smile on Jason’s face.

“I’m not saying never,” he started, “but I don’t think I’m ready for something like that yet, and I’m pretty sure mom would just straight up kill us if she found out.” Hazel just sighed at that, but even the vague hope of “not never” sent a small shiver up her spine. She laid down on top of him, enjoying his warmth. They sat there in a comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s touch in the wake of the roller coaster of emotions they had both just experienced, and soon drifted off to sleep, not caring what tomorrow might bring so long as they had each other.

[Also, one final super extra bonus note: my beta only left one comment on this original draft when I showed it to her, and it was too funny not to mention: on the line "Her lips felt velvety against his", she simply wrote "I refuse to consider the mechanics of this", to which I simply responded "coward".]

[powerofmettatonneo]

Hazel and Azure be like

Sylveon and Umbreon ko-fi doodle for Jude!

[ruporas]

need to exist in your warmth (id in alt)

[aparticularbandit]

That moment when Toon worldbuilding meets DRV3 meta meets a completely separate idea I've had for a while and like.

I could go somewhere with this, I think. I could maybe actually make this into something. They mesh.

....

But probably should let them simmer a bit longer.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[vvarvvon]

jakke doesn't use mistform cards. to him, they aren't worth it due to their limited usage. too many uses and they'll burn up, unable to be used again.

instead of keeping necessary tools in mistform cards, jakke took inspiration from dnd & created his own version of a bag of holding. it can store up to 100 kg and weighs only 5 kg regardless of how much is in it. for appearances, it looks like a miniature backpack and is a solid black, aside from a silver piece shaped like hecate's symbol where a logo would normally lay.

[rhys-ravenfeather]

Listen, I know Once Upon A Time has been over for a good while now, and everyone has stopped talking about it, but yeah, looking back on it, the moment the show lost me on Snow and Charming is when they were perfectly willing to curse Maleficent's child and only regretted their choice once they saw that it was born as a human baby.

[cipheramnesia]

I think in the humans are space orcs vein of posts, it's very funny and possible that humans don't have the same emotions as some other extraterrestrial civilization. Imagine they come rockin up to Earth only to discover we don't experience the fundamental emotions of [untranslatable clicking and hissing screech]. And then we discover that we're the weird ones because stuff like love or anger, no one really cares about those, but humans are seen as brutal, emotionless machines because everyone knows we don't have [clicking and hissing screech].

Like, we try and make normal and compassionate decisions, but no matter what we think we're doing, to almost every non-human we encounter, it's just kid gloves, feral dog handling. By all measurable standards, human tech lags behind every other civilization by decades, at best, usually centuries. And yet it's humans that get roped into every conflict, that decimate opposing armies, that break the backs of interplanetary governments - and we just never understand why. Sometimes we don't even realize we're being used in a war, all because we are, somehow, unfeeling monsters with no [?????].

[luveline]

YES to luna lovegood/dreamy!reader!!!!!!!!! Can we possibly get one with Spencer? <3

“It’s not as bad as you think.” 

Hotch appreciates the softness of your voice, as someone who also speaks in a very measured tone, but the sound of it has his brow furrowing. You’re a brilliant analyst, and a worse distraction whenever you’re in the main office. 

“It sounds terrible?” 

Hotch peers through the window to get a good look at the scene. You’re sitting in Spencer’s desk chair with your hands stretched out in front of you. Your outfit is very pink, considering the occasion, but it’s a non-abrasive light pink that flatters your skin. You have a clip in your hair, a small silver star with pink jewels embedded along the lines. 

Emily sips at a cup of coffee, leaning against the desk, her face to the side. Hotch can see her perturbed smile. 

“It’s fine! I’ve just been sleeping on the sofa.” 

“Well. That’s a call to pest control.” 

Spencer returns to his desk with a frown and two mugs. “Pest control?” he asks, the mug he places in front of you steaming. 

“There’s a raccoon living in her bedroom.” 

Spencer burns himself on his coffee, swearing as he puts it down hurriedly beside yours. “There’s a what?” Spencer asks. 

“He’s friendly. He came in through my vent.” 

“So friendly he’s stolen your bedroom?” 

You lean back in Spencer’s chair like it’s a La-Z-Boy, blowing at the hot surface of your drink with a similar lazy smile. “Imagine being that little and having such a big bed? When you usually sleep in the garbage?” You give a breathy laugh. “He must be having the time of his life.” 

“How are you getting ready in the mornings?” Spencer asks worriedly. 

“We’re cohabiting.” 

Spencer licks his lips. He likes you, and you seem aware of that fact, and that’s nerve-wracking for everyone involved. 

“Um, maybe we can make him a house? Like, outside? Raccoons are far happier in their natural habitat, and they’re also, you know, highly diseased and contagious compared to humans. I really don’t think you should let him inside.” 

“Spencer,” you say, giving him a dozy grin, “I didn’t let him in. He knows how to get in all by himself.” 

“I’ll call a repairman, too,” Emily says with a groan. 

She walks away, probably to find JJ and get her in on the repairs. Spencer looks at you for a long time, just drinking your tea, and Hotch mentally goads him into making a semblance of a move. Even if it’s just to fix your drooping hair clip. 

“You’re looking at me strangely again,” you say. 

Winces all around. “Am I?” Spencer asks. 

“Yes. Is this about Thursday?” 

“No.” Spencer swallows. “Yes. You didn’t answer my texts, after. I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” 

“Yeah. I thought about it a lot, so maybe you did too. Or maybe you didn’t, and it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Of course it meant something, Spencer.” You put down your mug, dusting your knees off before you stand. Spencer is not much taller than you where you’re standing in front of him, but you look up at him anyways. Your face tips ever so slightly to one side. “Would you want to do it again?” you ask softly. 

Spencer looks around the office. He neglects to check Hotch’s window, perhaps because the blinds are more often drawn than not, and so he doesn’t realise Hotch is watching as he draws you in for a kiss. 

You preen and lean back, hands fighting to cup his cheeks, a gauzy, practically gleaming aura around you as you smile into his mouth. Your fingertips tease his hair, and Spencer’s hand settles in place against the small of your back. You kiss back for only a few seconds before you’re laughing.

Spencer moves away quickly, taking your wrists into his hands to pull them away from his face. 

“You give up too fast,” you say. 

“I don’t think this is the place for it.” 

“Well, we can’t do it at my place. What if the raccoon sees?” 

“Good point. How about Marina’s, would that be better? We can get dinner at the same time.” 

Hotch feels oddly proud of Spencer’s suave suggestion, but he also has a migraine brewing between his brows. He really doesn’t need the extra paperwork. 

[zhelin-thames]

Bruce has another kid........but this one is not adopted

It started with a mission. Bruce had caught wind of strange paranormal disturbances in a small town called Amity Park. Reports of “ghost sightings” and a local teen hero known as “Danny Phantom” had reached the Batcomputer. Most dismissed it as urban legends or a publicity stunt, but Bruce wasn’t one to ignore a potential threat—especially when these sightings coincided with spikes in dimensional energy readings.

Taking Tim and Damian along, Bruce decided to investigate.

The Bat-plane landed under cover of night just outside Amity Park. The small, seemingly ordinary town was eerily quiet. The only sounds were the hum of streetlights and the occasional echo of a distant, unnatural wail.

“This place is giving me... weird vibes,” Tim muttered, adjusting his tech-enhanced goggles.

“Focus, Drake,” Damian snapped. “We are not here for your feelings.”

Tim rolled his eyes but stayed silent as they followed Bruce toward the FentonWorks lab, the epicenter of the disturbances according to their data.

As they approached the lab, the trio suddenly heard a commotion. A glowing, green figure phased through a wall, yelling back at someone inside.

“I told you, Skulker, I’m not in the mood for another ‘hunt’ today!” Danny Phantom shouted, blasting the air with an ectoplasmic beam that sent a mechanical ghost retreating through the night sky.

The Bat-family froze.

“That’s him,” Bruce said quietly, narrowing his eyes. “Danny Phantom.”

Tim activated his scanner. “Readings are off the charts. His energy signatures are unlike anything I’ve seen. Definitely not human... or entirely human.”

Danny turned mid-air, his glowing green eyes locking onto the trio of vigilantes below. His gaze lingered on Damian for a fraction of a second before he floated down, his posture wary but non-threatening.

“And you guys are...?” Danny asked, crossing his arms.

“Batman,” Bruce said, stepping forward. “We’re here to investigate the unusual phenomena in this town. That includes you.”

“Great. Another set of people thinking I’m some kind of freak,” Danny muttered under his breath before straightening up. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m just trying to keep the ghost attacks in check. So unless you’re here to help, maybe stay out of my way?”

As the conversation continued, Bruce noticed something odd about Danny. There was something familiar in his facial structure, his stance, even his voice. It was faint, but undeniable.

Later, under the guise of investigating the Fenton lab, Bruce covertly collected a sample of Danny’s DNA—left behind on a napkin when Danny had grabbed a snack.

Back at the Batcave, the results left him stunned.

Bruce returned to Amity Park and requested to speak with Danny privately. Intrigued—and maybe a little suspicious—Danny agreed, letting Bruce lead him to the Bat-plane.

When they arrived at Wayne Manor, Alfred greeted them with his usual calm demeanor. “Master Bruce, your guest?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Fancy place. What is this, a billionaire’s bat-cave?”

Bruce didn’t respond, leading Danny to the Batcave below.

Once there, Bruce revealed the DNA results.

“Daniel,” he began, his tone as measured as ever, “you’re my son.”

Danny blinked. Then blinked again. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bruce explained how Talia had kept Damian a secret and revealed that she’d also been pregnant with twins. After Damian’s birth, Talia claimed Danny had been stillborn. In truth, the League of Assassins had stolen him for an experiment, intending to use him as a vessel for Ra’s al Ghul’s essence. When the experiment failed, they abandoned Danny, leaving him to be found by Jack and Maddie Fenton.

“I don’t even know where to start with that,” Danny said, pacing. “You’re telling me my entire life is some kind of League of Assassins soap opera?!”

Bruce didn’t respond, giving Danny space to process.

After a long silence, Danny turned to him. “Does Damian know?”

Bruce decided to bring Danny to the Manor to meet the rest of the family. The reactions were varied—Tim was skeptical, Jason was amused, and Alfred was quietly delighted to have another addition to the family.

But Damian’s reaction was the most intense.

[powerofmettatonneo]

Video is Pokémon's Riskiest Game by Skyehoppers.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Leaving aside the whole debate about the ethics of AI art and copyright, I think one of my biggest gripes with the AI art industry is that generative AI art has this natural tendency towards producing weird and surreal imagery that I actually think DOES have a lot of artistic merit and potential if explored and leaned into as one of the unique strengths of the medium.

Like, when AI image generators were at the stage imbetween the vaguely recognizable imagery produced by neuralblender and the type of generators we're seeing today, they were producing really fascinating imagery that I'd argue had value as a contribution to the art landscape that was entirely unique to AI, since the weird surreal quality of the images was the result of Machine Learning programs interpreting words and images in a fundamentally different way than humans do.

Like i'd argue shit like this indisputably has a place as its own artistic style/medium, it's surreal and weird in ways which are completely distinct from what a human artist could produce because its unique strengths come from details that are inscrutable, ambiguous, and hard to parse to the human mind, which a human artist would have an extremely hard time mentally visializing, let alone translatong into an art piece.

But since the main selling point of AI art for both the people making these generators and the teach aficinados who are a little too into them is that AI art can serve as a cheaper/faster replacement and/or alternative for the work of human artists, progress is measured not in terms of how well they can use and explore the distincly non-human quality of AI art, but instead in terms of how well they can supress it to make it more closely mimic the work of human artists. So all advancement in the tech is geared towards progressively getting rid of the things I find artistically interesting about the medium instead of towards leaning into them as strengths that give it a unique, artistically worthwile style.

Like, I don't think AI art is inherently "soulless" or devoid of artistic merit, but I do think the focus on trying to make it increasingly indistinguishable from art produced by humans strips away the things that gave it artistic merit to me. This thing can produce imagery that is weird and wild and hard for us to even conceive but the profit motive's tendency towards rewarding homogenization has neutered that to turn it into a factory of increasingly bland, generic, serviceable imagery.

[petermorwood]

Recent article on NPR about the history of artificial light somewhat frustrated me -- they portrayed all of pre-kerosene history as dark and heinously expensive at all times. Thing is, the writers based their findings solely on tallow candles, & ignored oil lamps, beeswax candles, clever use of refraction & outdoor light including moon/starlight... Also seemed to ignore the ubiquity of hearths / cook fires. Was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about non-tallow light? This isn't to ignore that truly, artificial lighting WAS much more difficult & expensive for much of human history, but acting like tallow candles were the ONLY light source seems very silly! (Plus your other lovely post about bottles of water used to make those candles more efficient via refraction & focus)

I'm betting the article you mean is this one - which refers back to this one.

For matching reference, my own posts about period lighting are here, One and Two, including observations about painting walls white, how to light candles and lamps without matches, and several other matters.

*****

It didn't take too much listening before I got tetchy, because the first half of this podcast seems more about mocking how WEIRD and PRIMITIVE old-time people were, than passing on any useful information.

Despite the presence of Jane Brox (author of "Brilliant: The Evolution of Artificial Light") whale oil only gets touched on in passing, and olive oil isn't mentioned at all.

Instead she starts talking about using oily seabirds (stormy petrels) as "candles", despite this scholarly study concluding that it was something talked about far more than done, besides being so very, very localised that its relevance to the history of lighting is very, very small.

But hey, WEIRD and PRIMITIVE, right?

*****

By contrast, making candles was so commonplace that it was another of those jobs which created surnames. Fletcher once put feathers on arrows, Cooper made barrels, Fisher, Miller, Baker and Farmer are obvious, and Chandler used to make candles.

Lampier, of course, made lamps, which helped keep those naked candle-flames away from anywhere they shouldn't touch. The man on the left is making the lantern bodies, the one on the right is shaving sheets of horn as windows.

It's cheaper than glass, less easily broken yet is translucent enough, when shaved properly thin, to give quite adequate light.

*****

The podcast has a digression about measuring the light output of a reproduction Ancient Babylonian lamp. Here's an original and a repro.

Yet that too says nothing about what fuel the lamp is or should be burning - olive oil, traded all over the Mediterranean by ancient olive-growing cultures.

These are Roman oil-lamps, from simple and cheap to elaborate and costly.

As for beeswax, so far as the podcast is concerned might as well not exist, despite being a by-product of honey, which was THE principal pre-sugar sweetener for centuries when not being made into all that mead whose existence, production and quaffing nobody questions.

Oh yeah, and then there was the amazed discovery (2:40 / 1:25, depending on which you're listening to) that melted beef fat "...smells really nasty, like, ANIMAL nasty,"

Why is this guy surprised? It's part of an animal!

*****

It's the same sort of infotainment ignorance as displayed by this TikTok twit, right up to complaining about the effort involved in preparation of anything because not having powered appliances was so labour-intensive, oh woe. Yes, it was, welcome to any historical period before about 1920. That's where "the daily grind" originates.

However the implication (listen, it's there) that cattle were raised just to provide fat for candles is ludicrous. The fat was a by-product, not a main one, and was often a butcher's side-line, while members of the Chandlers' Guild only worked with superior beeswax.

I don't think you could make candles like these with tallow:

...and you definitely couldn't make one meant to be hand-held.

Picture evidence shows, by their clothing, the class of society who bought these, and tallow-greasy fingers would have been a no-no.

A Chandler didn't make individual candles. By the time that fresh batch is hung up, the first batch away down at the end is cool enough to be dipped again.

A chandler's shop in a medieval city would look very similar, and often had a horizontal wheel on which to hang each batch of candles, rotating them up and around to cool, then back to the dipping pot. Non-modern people may not have had modern tech or time-and-motion studies, but they weren't stupid.

*****

By contrast, the podcast's disparaging attitude of WEIRD and PRIMITIVE is emphasised by what seems a deliberate avoidance of anything which counters it (examples of that in my own posts) and finally at 11.24 / 9:50 came this:

"Even when you get all the way to the 1700s (...) most people are still subsistence farmers, living in some kind of hut, trying to grow enough food not to starve to death (...) and light? Light still comes from finding stuff that's lying around and just lighting it on fire."

Some kind of hut...

Stuff that's lying around...

After making such a declaration, I'm surprised - since they'd been implying it for half the podcast - someone didn't just go ahead and announce that "there's some lovely filth down here..."

That's when I stopped listening.

Enough is enough, and I'd had it.

*****

ETA:

cc: @asmuchasidliketo :->

Here's a photo of what purports to be a Petrel (not petrol, that's something else) Candle, held in the Pitt-Rivers Museum, Oxford. It's mentioned in that scholarly article I linked above.

Just as "one swallow doesn't make a summer", so one - and only one - known example of this, which may have been a fake-up to spoof the Southerners, doesn't prove it was a common or even rare practice.

There's another reason to take this with a big pinch of salt, so maybe Jane Brox was on a low-sodium diet when she wrote her book.

Creatures with a layer of fat or blubber for insulation all have it like any other form of insulation, on the outside, where it does some good. A wick passed through the inside couldn't draw on it for fuel since there's a layer of muscle and another of internal organs for the oil to get through first.

The cropped-off bottle just visible to the left is a far more likely way seabirds became lamp fuel: by rendering out their oil. This oil is from the Northern Fulmar, Fulmaris glaciaris (or glacialis, I've seen both. Same bird regardless).

Incidentally, the Wikipedia article on European Storm Petrel mentions a supernatural connection, that the petrels were the souls of drowned sailors, and killing them is unlucky.

Not just killing them but making them into candles sounds like A Bad Idea, and is yet another reason why, IMO, the candle thing may be a folktale, or a deliberate leg-pull, or...

Let's just say "improbable" and leave it there. :-P

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason _ Part 3

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader - Mana Chaos AU]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 (here)

“Sung Jinwoo is an S-Rank Hunter…”

“Another one…”

“It’s been 2 years since Cha Hae-In too.”

Nowadays, the emergence of an S-Rank Hunter and some A-Rank Hunters was like a demon had crawled out of hell and into the human world to cause destruction. Strong Hunters were seen and painted as a double-edged sword. On one hand, they could bring about peace to normal—non-awakened—individuals by closing gates and raiding dungeons. On the other hand, they could bring about destruction in their wake due to <Outrage> and the innocence would be harmed. 

Protocols like an awakened Hunter must report to the EMI instead of the Hunter Association because they have to keep track of stronger Hunters. Hunters must continuously measure their mana levels in case of a reawakening into a higher rank. It was unavoidable, no matter which country, because they prioritized ordinary people more. 

Perhaps the only place where EMI regulations can’t touch is America. After what Thomas Andre had done, he singlehandedly protected his fellow Hunters and announced to the EMI that they couldn’t have their way with people who worked to protect them from the dangers known as gates and dungeons. There were some Hunters that escaped to America to join Thomas and his stance, there were also some that were unluckily caught by the EMI, and some that didn’t do anything. Such is the sway of a National Level Hunter. 

Unlike Thomas, who had no weaknesses to use against, Jinwoo was different. His family, his mother and younger sister, were dependent on the society and their system. So, against his better judgement, Jinwoo bowed to the whims of the EMI and was taken in as SM-10. 

In the facility, he underwent several tests to draw a profile for him since he was fundamentally different from his E-Rank file. Anyone could see at a glance. Jinwoo kept his cards hidden because the more capable he was, the greater the danger his loved ones would be in. He was doing everything for his family. Upon capture, he was promised that his family would receive financial support so long as he behaved himself. 

A cowardly but effective threat and compromise that he agreed. 

Still, he hated the people who worked in this accursed building. All those labourers who hid behind a mask and voice changer donned uniforms that displayed their station. Throughout his days, he observed a few groups of workers. 

First was the type that he frequently came into contact with: Guard. As their station name, they guarded things, from equipment to rooms and even Hunter cells. They were the ones that handled conflict and violence, even the heavy lifting, if any. Those who were higher ranked were called Warden; however, he only saw them during his testing sessions when they were making his profile. They all wear black masks—Warden’s mask is black with a white scratch mark over the right eyehole—and black soldier uniforms.

Second was the type that constantly changes to the point he doesn’t even keep track of: Supervisor. Contrary to their high-standing title, they do the smallest and most insignificant tasks, like delivering supplies, checking Hunter cells, and being an owl so passing messages. They were low-ranking workers that most wouldn’t bat an eye to if gone. Perhaps that’s why they have a grey uniform and a grey mask. Their code went as high as the hundreds, going to the thousands. 

Third was the type that he hated most: Investigator or Researcher. They were the ones who administered the tests and punishments to the Hunters, and they monitored them inside their cell. Under their glances, a Hunter is reduced to a mere lab rat. They were individuals connected to the EMI but needed to be more important to make a—any—difference in the building. However, they were respected in some sense because some did aim for the betterment of the Hunters staying in the building. They wear a white mask with a mocking grin and a white uniform, complete with a lab coat.

Last was the type that intrigued him the most: Personnel. Though their code suggests they have people in the hundreds, there was actually only a handful of them in the building. The highest number he saw was 12. They were the ones with the most authority and well-respected individuals among the other groups, their work and station varied from individual to individual. They were the ones that stayed in the building the longest, and a new Personnel would only join their ranks if they carried confidential information about the EMI. 

One would notice there doesn’t seem to be a highest position or individual, but the Personnel were the ones who acted as the say of the facility. None had absolute power to keep each other in check, and in case a threat was targeted, if one fell, the other would continue in the other’s place. The smaller the number, the bigger their authority, it seems. 

Personnel 001 was once his observer during the tests, when he could let loose. After all the observation and boredom, Jinwoo accidentally killed them and was quickly restrained. He paid close attention to what happened. Would another observe him? Would there be a new Personnel in their ranks? What would happen?

Turns out, you happened.

Personnel’s clothing is ever-changing. They have free reign over what they want to wear; needless to say, they have no uniform. They only have to wear a lab coat over their usual outfits, and that’s it. One could mistake them for Investigators, but the distinct code would be shown on their coat at the area over their heart. They have a white mask with reflective black glasses covering their eyeholes. 

Yet when you came in, you were void of that mask that hides one’s expression and face. Still, your poker face was impressive. You appeared expressionless and reminded him of a doll. You neither introduced yourself nor showcased your station, different from Personnel 001, who was practically shouting at him that they were the ones in power in this facility. At first glance, he knew you were different from all the rest. 

“You’re hiding your cards. SM-10.” Your words held knowledge and confidence, stating a fact rather than questioning him. Your arm hugged a black clipboard with a small stack of papers clipped while your other hand held a pen. If you weren’t wearing a lab coat, you’d appear like a strict teacher or lab researcher.

He couldn’t help but let a smile spread over his lips, “What makes you think that?”

“You’re holding back.” You turned to the Guards stationed within the cell to leave you alone. Yes, a Personnel has the authority to be alone with a Hunter, but if it were a Supervisor, they must be with at least two to three Guards. “You killed Personnel 001, why? Be honest.”

There was a shine in your eyes that he noticed. He couldn’t tell what it was, though he wanted to be coy. “You’re not the only ones observing. Why not make it mutual?”

That was his first meeting with you. 

With his Shadows, he watched you and your daily activities. You were practically glued to your work; you came to work early but left late. You have a good relationship with the other coworkers, and most respect you, evident by the nodding heads you receive in the hallways. You also seem to care for Hunters in their cells, inspecting the cell quality and making things more bearable for Hunters like him. 

Thanks to him, more and better changes happened after Personnel 001 was removed. By then, he figured out that whether it was a company setting or a guild setting, 001 was the guild master, and you were the vice master. Once 001 was gone, you had more authority and implemented changes, of course, with the agreement of your other Personnel co-workers. 

In that case, that makes you a lot more interesting. You realized his strength and power, you wanted an improved and more sophisticated place for Hunter, different from how the facility was supposed to be, and you have been treating everyone human. 

Jinwoo concluded that he wanted to stay and get closer to you. With you in charge, his family was practically safe as well. He’ll stay and protect your spot at the top. Yet why were you pushing him away? It infuriated him. Still, he was thankful for the other Personnels’ fear over setting an S-Rank loose in public that he could prove to you how wrong you were to fight for his release.

While showing his point, he reduced the Personnel to perhaps 6 remaining—that already includes you. From 12 to 6, he cut off 4, and then there was 001 as well, so one Personnel died through other means. Either way, he made his point.

You were the only Personnel he liked and could resolve his <Outrage>.

That already bound you to him, and none would harm you unless they wanted the country to fall to ruins. 

The two of you share secrets, and slowly, he got you to open up, showing only him a side of you that you hide behind an invisible mask. You’re the only one for him, he’ll make it so that he’s the only one for you. 

He realized that his emotions and feelings for you turned a bit twisted over time. That Guard 149 that stared at you a little too long? Their leg was somehow caught between the double doors, so they can’t work here anymore, right? That Investigator 083 that was standing so close to you that your arms were touching? An experiment backfired and their arms were amputated. Another Guard that is coded 761 was asking you out? They got into a car accident and died. 

Jinwoo was careful. You never pointed fingers at him nor suspected it was him at all. You were very naive and innocent; he loves that about you. You care for your workers, yet at the same time, you also don’t. He got his answer when he finally communicated with the other S-Rank Hunters during the end of the Jeju Raid.

“Personnel 002? Oh, I’d say that person cares about Hunters more.”

“Haha, Personnel 002 has been very accommodating, unlike the other ones.”

“You can’t compare Personnel 002 with the others, it’s not a fair comparison.”

“I always enjoy my time with Personnel 002.”

“You’re lucky SM-10, I wish I could have Personnel 002 come to my place often.”

The other S-Rank Hunters only had good things to say about you. As expected, you were biased against Hunters and silently helped them more. Though, he was more enraptured to hear you giving him special care and attention. In private, his smile grew wide as he chuckled to himself. “Ah… You’ll be the death of me… Personnel 002.”

Note: Ta da! Part 3's out and this is Jinwoo's side of the story, if it wasn't obvious to you!! A bit of boring history, but it's what it is~ Hope you guys liked this one!

Circe Y.

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[reasonsforhope]

"Shopping for clothes is already intimidating. There are so many options and styles to consider, as well as factors like sustainability and ethics.

But for people in fat, disabled, or queer and gender-nonconforming bodies, it’s even more arduous.

Nico Herzetty, Emma K. Clark, and Paul Herzetty wondered: What if there was a way people could shop — not necessarily by color or size — but by measurements, materials, and ethics?

So they set off to create their website: Phoria. 

Here, shoppers can set up a free profile, add their body measurements (and “typical fit challenges”) and peruse over 270 brands. Once these data points are entered, users can personalize their pages with “saved,” “recommended,” or “hidden” brands. 

Pages can be totally private, or shared with the community to connect over styles and brands.

Aside from fit, brands in the Phoria database (which claims to be “the largest database of plus-friendly brands”) can also be filtered as “gender-neutral,” “woman-run,” “small business,” or “natural fibers.” Users can also filter for price, preferred styles, and more.

Pictured: A screenshot of the "Fit Challenges" feature on a Phoria user's profile.

Some brands include popular names like Athleta, Levi’s, and Patagonia. Others are small businesses, like Beefcake Swimwear, or Hey Peach.

“For so many people, it feels too damn hard to find and keep clothing that fits in all the ways that really matter. So we’re doing something about it,” the Phoria website reads.

“Unlike most online shopping experiences, we center the needs of plus-size women, nonbinary, and trans people, and prioritize supporting clothing brands focused on sustainability, ethics, and inclusion.” ...

That team — made up of Clark, and Nico and Paul Herzetty — calls themselves “fat, disabled, and very, very queer.” 

“These are some of the main ways we identify, and they’re qualities that have directly impacted our ability to get dressed every day in a way that feels good,” the Phoria team introduces themselves on the website.

Pictured: A screenshot of Phoria's plus-size clothing brand database.

In addition to catering the user experience to women, non-binary, and trans people, Phoria is also a benefit corporation, or a B corp.

“We’ve legally required ourselves to consider the interests of all our stakeholders — customers, employees, the planet, and our shareholders,” the Phoria website explains.

“Our specific public benefit purpose is to reduce people’s dependence on buying mass-produced items made in unsustainable ways and to use human-centered business models to boldly challenge economic systems of inequity.” 

Right now, in the early stages of the company’s business, it doesn’t make any money.

“We’re focused on building something that genuinely solves plus-size people’s challenges around clothes shopping and supports smaller and more sustainable brands,” Phoria’s website states.

So, spreading the word seems to be of utmost importance...

Additionally, TikTok creators @couplagoofs (a queer couple named Morgan and Phoebe), recently shared a video in which they discovered Phoria. They met the website’s creators at a fat liberation event in their city and were introduced to the tool.

Quickly, commenters responded with gratitude and excitement.

“It is so disappointing to sort through pages of plus size clothes that aren’t even plus size,” a TikTok user commented. “This is gonna be such a good tool!” 

Some even shared emotional responses, speaking to the need at the heart of Phoria’s mission. 

“I’m… gonna cry,” another commenter wrote. “I’ve needed this my whole life.”"

-via Goodgoodgood, November 20, 2023