#adjunct stories

[your-local-granny]

I would like to thank myself from a week ago for asking that my travel expenses be covered because my god it it took two emails and now I can afford food for the week

[suboficialflores]

Once upon a time I was a Spanish lecturer at a university. They trusted me with 100-300 level classes (lol wild)

Then I was pulled into a Title IX investigation that really had nothing to do with me, and like an idiot I did what I thought was the right thing

If a professor rapes a student and another professor asks you to testify on behalf of the student, you may get fired as retaliation (even though that’s illegal)

Last I knew, the accused professor is still tenured

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Linkrot

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

Here's an underrated cognitive virtue: "object permanence" – that is, remembering how you perceived something previously. As Riley Quinn often reminds us, the left is the ideology of object permanence – to be a leftist is to hate and mistrust the CIA even when they're tormenting Trump for a brief instant, or to remember that it was once possible for a working person to support their family with their wages:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/27/six-sells/#youre-holding-it-wrong

The thing is, object permanence is hard. Life comes at you quickly. It's very hard to remember facts, and the order in which those facts arrived – it's even harder to remember how you felt about those facts in the moment.

This is where blogging comes in – for me, at least. Back in 1997, Scott Edelman – editor of Science Fiction Age – asked me to take over the back page of the magazine by writing up ten links of interest for the nascent web. I wrote that column until the spring of 2000, then, in early 2001, Mark Frauenfelder asked me to guest-edit Boing Boing, whereupon the tempo of my web-logging went daily. I kept that up on Boing Boing for more than 19 years, writing about 54,000 posts. In February, 2020, I started Pluralistic.net, my solo project, a kind of blog/newsletter, and in the four-plus years since, I've written about 1,200 editions containing between one and twelve posts each.

This gigantic corpus of everything I ever considered to be noteworthy is immensely valuable to me. The act of taking notes in public is a powerful discipline: rather than jotting cryptic notes to myself in a commonplace book, I publish those notes for strangers. This imposes a rigor on the note-taking that makes those notes far more useful to me in years to come.

Better still: public note-taking is powerfully mnemonic. The things I've taken notes on form a kind of supersaturated solution of story ideas, essay ideas, speech ideas, and more, and periodically two or more of these fragments will glom together, nucleate, and a fully-formed work will crystallize out of the solution.

Then, the fact that all these fragments are also database entries – contained in the back-end of a WordPress installation that I can run complex queries on – comes into play, letting me swiftly and reliably confirm my memories of these long-gone phenomena. Inevitably, these queries turn up material that I've totally forgotten, and these make the result even richer, like adding homemade stock to a stew to bring out a rich and complicated flavor. Better still, many of these posts have been annotated by readers with supplemental materials or vigorous objections.

I call this all "The Memex Method" and it lets me write a lot (I wrote nine books during lockdown, as I used work to distract me from anxiety – something I stumbled into through a lifetime of chronic pain management):

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Back in 2013, I started a new daily Boing Boing feature: "This Day In Blogging History," wherein I would look at the archive of posts for that day one, five and ten years previously:

https://boingboing.net/2013/06/24/this-day-in-blogging-history.html

With Pluralistic, I turned this into a daily newsletter feature, now stretching back to twenty, fifteen, ten, five and one year ago. Here's today's:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/21/noway-back-machine/#retro

This is a tremendous adjunct to the Memex Method. It's a structured way to review everything I've ever thought about, in five-year increments, every single day. I liken this to working dough, where there's stuff at the edges getting dried out and crumbly, and so your fold it all back into the middle. All these old fragments naturally slip out of your thoughts and understanding, but you can revive their centrality by briefly paying attention to them for a few minutes every day.

This structured daily review is a wonderful way to maintain object permanence, reviewing your attitudes and beliefs over time. It's also a way to understand the long-forgotten origins of issues that are central to you today. Yesterday, I was reminded that I started thinking about automotive Right to Repair 15 years ago:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2009/05/right-repair-law-pro

Given that we're still fighting over this, that's some important perspective, a reminder of the likely timescales involved in more recent issues where I feel like little progress is being made.

Remember when we all got pissed off because the mustache-twirling evil CEO of Warners, David Zaslav, was shredding highly anticipated TV shows and movies prior to their release to get a tax-credit? Turns out that we started getting angry about this stuff twenty years ago, when Michael Eisner did it to Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 911":

https://www.nytimes.com/2004/05/05/us/disney-is-blocking-distribution-of-film-that-criticizes-bush.html

It's not just object permanence: this daily spelunk through my old records is also a way to continuously and methodically sound the web for linkrot: when old links go bad. Over the past five years, I've noticed a very sharp increase in linkrot, and even worse, in the odious practice of spammers taking over my dead friends' former blogs and turning them into AI spam-farms:

https://www.wired.com/story/confessions-of-an-ai-clickbait-kingpin/

The good people at the Pew Research Center have just released a careful, quantitative study of linkrot that confirms – and exceeds – my worst suspicions about the decay of the web:

https://www.pewresearch.org/data-labs/2024/05/17/when-online-content-disappears/

The headline finding from "When Online Content Disappears" is that 38% of the web of 2013 is gone today. Wikipedia references are especially hard-hit, with 23% of news links missing and 21% of government websites gone. The majority of Wikipedia entries have at least one broken link in their reference sections. Twitter is another industrial-scale oubliette: a fifth of English tweets disappear within a matter of months; for Turkish and Arabic tweets, it's 40%.

Thankfully, someone has plugged the web's memory-hole. Since 2001, the Internet Archive's Wayback Machine has allowed web users to see captures of web-pages, tracking their changes over time. I was at the Wayback Machine's launch party, and right away, I could see its value. Today, I make extensive use of Wayback Machine captures for my "This Day In History" posts, and when I find dead links on the web.

The Wayback Machine went public in 2001, but Archive founder Brewster Kahle started scraping the web in 1996. Today's post graphic – a modified Yahoo homepage from October 17, 1996 – is the oldest Yahoo capture on the Wayback Machine:

https://web.archive.org/web/19960501000000*/yahoo.com

Remember that the next time someone tells you that we must stamp out web-scraping for one reason or another. There are plenty of ugly ways to use scraping (looking at you, Clearview AI) that we should ban, but scraping itself is very good:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

And so is the Internet Archive, which makes the legal threats it faces today all the more frightening. Lawsuits brought by the Big Five publishers and Big Three labels will, if successful, snuff out the Internet Archive altogether, and with it, the Wayback Machine – the only record we have of our ephemeral internet:

https://blog.archive.org/2024/04/19/internet-archive-stands-firm-on-library-digital-rights-in-final-brief-of-hachette-v-internet-archive-lawsuit/

Libraries burn. The Internet Archive may seem like a sturdy and eternal repository for our collective object permanence about the internet, but it is very fragile, and could disappear like that.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/21/noway-back-machine/#pew-pew-pew

[au-roulette]

Happy June!

To celebrate the fact that we are now officially one month away from the start of AU Roulette, have a post detailing the 36 AUs included in this year's challenge -- or don't, if you'd rather be surprised.

This year's AUs have been curated to be intentionally broad, in the hopes that they will encourage unique takes on each prompt and the creativity of the authors participating. You are welcome to write anything that falls under the umbrella of your assigned AUs, whether it's an original universe, a fusion inspired by another fandom, or something else entirely.

(What's AU Roulette, some of you might be asking? An explanation can be found here, along with the link to sign-up!)

Without further ado -- the AU list, under a cut:

Roleswap - Maybe you want to switch two characters' places, do a class-swap for a D&D fandom, try your hand at an age-swap fic, or you have another idea.

Superhero -- Invent an original universe or do a fusion with one of the many popular big-screen superhero stories. Play it straight and give your favorite characters cool powers, or try a deconstruction of the genre. With great AUs comes great responsibility

Gothic Horror -- Castles. Ghosts. Vampires. Drama. Love that conquers Death. Take your inspiration from classic literature or a newer entry in the genre, like The Locked Tomb books. But be sure to make things spooky.

Post-Apocalypse -- Will the world end in fire or in ice? Or maybe economic collapse, war, zombies, or one of many other options? You write what happens next!

Fairy-Tale -- Pick a classic tale from the Grimms, Hans Christian Andersen, Asbjørnsen & Moe, Charles Perrault, or another favorite author to inspire your AU, try out a more modern re-telling, or use fairy-tale elements to craft your own story.

High Seas -- Including but not limited to Pirate AUs and other Age of Sail adventures. Try out something more historical, or throw in as many fantasy elements as you'd like -- or a bit of both.

Time Travel -- For fixing mistakes, making things worse, or time loops. Or maybe you want to write a fusion inspired by a piece of popular time travel media, like Doctor Who.

Western -- Another AU where writers are free to do their history research or to lean into more outlandish genre conventions. Cowboys, cowgirls, and cowpokes all welcome, of course.

Mythology -- Write a story inspired by your favorite myths and legends, from a whole host of different cultures. Or maybe you'd like to try your hand at writing some epic poetry?

Coffee Shop -- A classic everyone knows and has strong feelings about. Play it straight or add a twist, whichever suits your fancy! After all, no one said where the coffee shop has to be...

College/Academia -- Are the characters in your AU students? Professors? Weary adjuncts? Throwing hands at a conference? Some mix of the above?

Theater -- Put those characters on Broadway or cast them in a disaster of a community theater production. Or a school play! All that really matters is the show must go on.

Ghost/Cryptid Hunters -- Maybe you want to write a story starring the next Scooby-Doo crew, or maybe there really is something strange in the neighborhood. Or maybe it'll never be clear what really happened -- it's your choice!

Secret Agent -- Code words, code names, you name it. Write a story about spies, cryptographers, or any other clandestine operators. Take inspiration from history or from James Bond. Just don't spill your secrets too soon.

Detective -- Whether you're writing the world's greatest detective or someone who just can't get a clue, play up the mystery! Use a classic locale like 221B Baker Street or invent your own.

Cyberpunk -- Time to write cyborg identity crises and fight the machine (literally)! Take inspiration from classic media like Neuromancer or Blade Runner or make a totally new cyberpunk universe of your own creation.

High Fantasy -- Elves and dwarves and gnomes, oh my! This AU could encompass everything from Middle Earth to D&D AUs to your favorite high fantasy books you read over and over as a kid. Or maybe you have your own spell to weave.

Band/Musicians -- Whether you decide to make the characters in your AU famous pop stars, part of an orchestra, students at a conservatory, jamming together in their garage, or otherwise musically-inclined, have fun with it!

Reporter/Journalist -- For everything from local anchors and newspaper staff to big-league investigative reporters. Write characters who'll do anything to get a scoop or with a strong sense of justice -- it's your call!

Cosmic Horror -- You don't have to love Lovecraft to get creative with this AU. Make characters comprehend the incomprehensible, send them messages from beyond the stars, and get a little creepy.

Heist -- Will you write a story about master thieves? Vigilantes righting some wrong? What's being stolen and why? Try a Leverage AU or a caper of your own making.

Space Opera -- The genre encompassing works like The Expanse, Imperial Radch, Mass Effect, and Star Wars, brimming with galactic empires, alien species, and chivalric adventures. Write a fusion set in the universe of your favorite work in the genre, or invent a new one!

Sports/Athletics -- Pick a sport, any sport -- whether a team game like hockey, an individual one like archery, a paired one like figure skating, or something a little unconventional, like roller derby or HEMA. Then it's ready, set, write!

Historical Era -- An AU type absolutely bursting with potential, from medieval romances to 1920s Prohibition AUs, to ones inspired by historical fiction like Les Miserables. Whatever era of history strikes your fancy, you can write it.

Road Trip -- Pack your favorite characters in a car and don't forget the snacks. Or maybe the spaceship, or something else if you're feeling adventurous. Where are they headed and why? Only you know the answer!

Space Exploration -- Whether you want to write modern-day astronauts, a futuristic Star Trek AU, or something inspired by the space race, the sky isn't even the limit with this AU.

Urban Fantasy -- For all your modern-with-magic settings. Write an AU inspired by something like Teen Wolf, Artemis Fowl, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or much of Neil Gaiman's oeuvre, or invent your own world where witches and websites coexist.

Museum/Archives -- Have the characters in your AU working in the exhibits or behind the scenes, down in the collections or even as archaeologists or paleontologists. What secrets are waiting to be unearthed there?

Hospital -- A surprisingly flexible AU option -- are the characters working there, or the victims of some unfortunate accident? Or maybe it's a bit of both. Take it wherever you feel like.

Camping/Wilderness Survival -- Could be anything from a fun summer camp or camping trip to a nightmare survival scenario. Write everyone having s'mores around the campfire or something inspired by media like Yellowjackets, where they might be having... something else.

Steampunk -- A fantastic opportunity to get creative with your worldbuilding. Try your hand at some alternate history, or invent a world of airships and other flying machines of your very own.

Shapeshifter -- Can the characters in this AU turn into anything they want? Or maybe they're more limited, like selkies -- even unable to control their shapeshifting at all (can I get an "awoo" from the werewolf fans?)

Classic Literature -- An AU somewhat more dependent on fusion ideas, but still very flexible! Pick a favorite classic book or play and let it inspire your writing!

Dystopian -- Create your own awful society or let a favorite piece of media guide you, like writing a Hunger Games AU. Will the characters break the cycle, or end up trapped in it?

Renaissance Faire -- A recipe for chaos. Write a bunch or faire-goers or have the characters in your AU working at the faire! Adventures await.

Scientist/Mad Science -- Write characters as normal biologists, physicists, and chemists, the next Frankenstein, or as hapless experiments themselves!

[zahri-melitor]

So I read Batman 147 (on the basis that with how fast the conversation is moving right now I don't want to wait on DCUI Ultra delay), and I am having even more thoughts about how it as an issue positions the difference between Damian-as-Robin and Tim-as-Robin as characters adjunct to Bruce, and also in terms of both characters' long term storylines.

Because Damian as a character has always fought for attention and focus to be on him, and used various methods to gain that attention. He acts up as the youngest and reiterates his blood connection to Bruce and puts emphasis on being the Son Of The Bat because he wants acknowledgement, he wants to be special, he doesn't like that he arrived in Gotham and in Bruce's life and found that he wasn't the centre of Bruce's focus.

As a character Damian's most often written as part of an oppositional pair: his main titles have always been Batman & Robin and Super Sons, not Robin. He bounces off another character more than acts as a member of a team, whether that's working as Batman and Robin with Bruce or with Dick, or in stories where he's more in a bickering besties relationship with Colin Wilkes or with Maya Ducard or with Jon Kent. His team appearances frequently fall apart, because he starts trying to order people around.

So Damian says about his time with Dick as Batman and Robin "we were the best" and he says about himself and Bruce “Batman and Robin. Father and son. We don't need anyone else." It's about Damian's feelings of possession and entitlement and jealous ownership over the position as Robin. It's about how he has to regularly assert that his time with Dick as Batman and him as Robin, above and beyond anything else, was the best that Batman & Robin have ever been. It's his past need to prove himself and show himself as better than any previous Robin, about fighting them all, particularly Tim, to prove himself as the Worthy Best Robin.

And in 147 that's the Damian we get, one who has returned home to his father and is working on bonding with him again, and so he sees people doubting Batman and his back goes back up and returns to that Us Against The World mindset. Damian is following ZEA Batman’s orders because they make sense to him (yes they’re more violent but defending the Manor and Cave against Waller? There’s nothing in that which should raise alarm bells).

And Damian DOES clue in immediately on something more serious crossing his radar to what’s wrong with ‘Bruce’. As soon as ZEA trips up seriously, Damian notices it. This is actually a really good fallible Damian and he’s not actually being shown as holding the idiot ball here – he’s following on from the extended trust he was showing in Gotham War. ZEA Batman is in his blindspot over being the more violent Robin who does tend to want more physical solutions to how to fight crime. Also Damian’s immediate response being “I’ll kill you!” is so incredibly Damian. Still heightened violence.

And all of this level of possession, of 'all that is needed is Batman & Robin' nobody else, no other connections, is being contrasted by Zdarsky with the shape of Bruce and Tim's relationship as Batman & Robin.

Because Bruce and Tim, by contrast, view their partnership together through the frame that Tim is there to hold back the darkness and save Bruce from himself (a more classic depiction of Robin's role). Bruce is thinking about where to hide that ZEA Batman would not consider, and he thinks about his connections - he goes to Happy Harbour, and then he goes to a cabin that is about civilian family, and he thinks about Tim and about hard work because Tim IS the other character with a strong connection to Happy Harbour. And Tim comes to find where Bruce is hiding and feeds him and does the dishes (the caretaking! The reflections on how Bruce couldn't look after himself while Alfred was gone post Knightfall! Tim making Bruce dinner for Father's Day in Beechen's run!) and the first thing Tim says is “sounds like you need a partner”.

The focus and the conversation revolves around why Tim became Robin in the first place and saving Bruce from the dark via having connections. About having a reason to get up in the morning and for why Batman exists and why he has a partner and a family. It's answering "why is Tim Robin" with "Batman needs someone to haul him back when he overreaches".

It's the contrast between Damian, with his ‘natural, born and raised to be Robin’ conviction of his right to his position, compared to Tim, who “REALLY had to work at it”, and Bruce choosing that he needed to take inspiration from the goal make yourself great purely through your own hard work.

And it's meaty! juicy! these are their very different world views (where Damian has always fought for attention and focus from Batman to be on him, while Tim has pulled Bruce from being obsessed with himself/his grief).

I just want to roll around in it all.

[winonaparadise]

short story 💯

wrote a very quick story about a class i took in college. if you like my writing in my videos you may like this

Five years ago today I was clawing through state university. I had switched majors in an effort to come away with something more material from my college experience – but I was also trying to earn as many credits with as few courses to keep my schooling short and cheap.

I took a heavy weighted class in “media law.” A subject notoriously as intricate as it is absolutely fucking stupid. Anything you could learn, Disney will change tommorrow. The professor was an adjunct, splitting his time between the humble basement where boys with Pulp Fiction posters in their dorms fiddled with cameras and the actual law school where he was employed some miles down the road. I have never seen Pulp Fiction, but I’ve fiddled with enough cameras and enough of the boys who own them to have reviewed it twice. This is not a problem to me now.

Then I was stupid. Twenty. And basically friendless. I spent all my time trying to make something the same way the universe spent billions of years pouring hot soup into holes and hoping life would bubble out. I studied Japanese during quiet matches of PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds. I never got a win, and I never got an “A” in Japanese.

Weeks of school went by as I skimmed textbooks, got high, and thought about talking to literally anyone. Academic words danced around the edges of my brain like sand. I wrote essays on the same autopilot I write today. Feverish. Flowing. Fantasizing about what it would be like to go out with someone instead of texting a girl who now lived in Japan and making ramen noodles while listening for footsteps in a digital warzone.

I did all my work. I submitted it on something called “canvas” that the muscle memory in my fingers still types in search bars to this day. I never checked my grades. I knew they were bad.

Classes dragged me through the week on a bungee cord. I lived a block away from the bulk of them and found myself drifting in halls of buildings I’d never attended just to keep myself from meandering back home to draw a bad comic about a girl who lived in hell. 

I knew nobody. I went nowhere. I struggled to do classwork alone on outdoor benches dreaming of someone speaking to me. I needed to live in hell instead.

My media law professor was late the weekend after our first term essays were due. I don’t know what mode of transportation he took to get from one school to the other but today the Carolina sun had drenched him sweaty. We were chilly waiting for him to begin.

“Just about every single one of you failed.” He spat and chugged coffee through the entire period. “While I first was grading I thought I was the one who failed.”

He didn’t let the moment of respite last. “But I also did something I’ve never done before.” He paced like my father did when a restaurant was closed early. “I gave out my first perfect score. Which prevents me from grading on a curve.”

He huffed, he assigned a new reading, and he rushed out like he had lit dynamite. “Do better!” “What an asshole.” The girl who sat next to me in every class spoke as if she had been holding her breath. “Fuck him and fuck whoever got that hundred.”

“I know right!” I launched in on her anger, feeling it too. Back and forth we complained. We walked off campus together. She had long blonde hair and towered over me. I had felt ugly and mousey next to her, but today I felt like her equal. It felt good to bitch.

“I got a fucking 50. What about you?”

“It wasn’t pretty.” I recalled how I stayed up the night before the assignment was due. I milked bullshit into a puree. I got a rush of adrenaline from killing someone with a shotgun through a door in an abandoned house on the outskirts of Pochinki. I was probably close to being expelled. “This class is too fucking hard,” she smoked and shook her head by a bus stop on Tate Street. “I’m not about to lose my freetime over it.”

“Right.” I imagined her at parties. Black silhouettes against colored lights and deafening music. Like The Social Network. “We should be partners for the next assignment,” she got out her phone and passed it to me for my number. I typed it in. I waved her off on the bus. We did the assignment together. We texted each other about our studies. We joked about finding the guy who got the perfect score and beating him senseless. I thought about talking to her about my art or what we were making in other classes, but never did.

Towards the end of the semester I had to plan the next. A whirlpool churned in my stomach as I clicked on “grades” on my campus’ online portal. I had an A+ in a single course. 

Media Law.

My friend from class texted me that she was dreading the final. I texted her that if we failed I would kill Mr. Perfect Score. She texted “lol.”

She passed the course. I got my degree so I assume I did too. We stopped texting.

That professor emailed me asking me to take a course at the law school down the road. He said he would let me sit in and see if I wanted to change majors a third time. I never replied.

A law degree would just make Mr. Perfect Score a hundred times more punchable.

[kallie-den]

Renewable Energy

Ziratha, an intrepid young succubus researcher, finds the ultimate solution to the looking Succubus Energy Crisis: a device that brainwashes its subjects back into nourishing, delicious, easily-flustered virgins - even rough, experienced, punk trans girls like Vivi

This was a delightful commission from GrillFan65, one of my patrons, and features a very, very fun TF ;)

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

---

“Wow. This is a succubus’s lab?” The crust punk trans girl looked around Ziratha’s research laboratory and sniffed. “I would have expected more candles. Magic circles. Maybe a few jars of goat semen or something.”

Ziratha the succubus rolled her eyes as the punk laughed at her own bad joke. “That’s a stereotype. You’d think humans would know better now. We’ve been living amongst your kind for decades now, and-“

“And succubi are simply people just like us, living perfectly normal lives, except for the whole needing sex for subsistence thing,” the punk interrupted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard the history lesson before.”

Ziratha had to suppress a groan. Alongside her PhD research, a full-time job in its own right, she worked part-time as an adjunct making minimum wage. She’d forgotten what a good night’s sleep felt like. Half her blood was coffee. She was way too tired for this.

Unfortunately for her, this punk girl - Vivi - was the best shot she was going to get at seeing her research reach fruition.

“Anyway,” Vivi piped up, “hurry up and tell me why I’m here already.”

“You’re here,” Ziratha replied tersely, “because I caught you breaking a window at the back of the lab. Probably looking for something to sell. And because if you help me out, I can delete the feed from the security camera. Got it?”

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” Vivi shot back. “HRT ain’t free, you know?”

Ziratha sighed. In truth, she didn’t hold the attempted theft against her. It was simply that the succubus really, really needed just one single research subject. One was surely all it would take to get the funding board to sit up and pay attention.

“So, c’mon,” Vivi insisted. “What do you need me to do?”

Ziratha took a very, very deep breath. “OK, let me explain. Firstly, what do you know about the SEC?”

Vivi sniffed. “Sounds familiar.

“The Succubus Energy Crisis,” Ziratha told her patiently. “We succubi depend on energy harvested from our sexual partners. You clearly know that much. However, what you may not know is that sexual energy isn’t a sustainable resource.”

“How’s that?” Vivi seemed more interested in scoping out Ziratha’s messy lab than in the answer.

“The amount of energy a succubus harvests from her partner is inversely proportional to their sexual experience,” Ziratha went on. Reciting this was practically automatic. She’d been over it a hundred times in class. “The potency of sexual energy declines after, well, sex. Especially sex with succubi. The more we take, the less they have to give. Sex with ‘well-used’ partners yields negligible energy - and furthermore, might actually kill the human.”

“OK.” Vivi laughed offhandedly. “So what? There will always be more virgins, right?”

“That’s what people used to say about coal and oil,” Ziratha pointed out. “As it turns out, no. Thanks to a declining birth rate, an increasingly sexualized culture, and a constant expansion of liberal sexual mores into untapped parts of the world, reserves are depleting faster than they can naturally refill. Humanity’s store of sexual energy is trending towards zero. Starvation for succubuskind.”

“Right…” Vivi said skeptically, before shrugging. “I don’t see what that’s got to do with me.”

“I was getting to that,” Ziratha retorted. “I’m working on a solution, OK? See, traditional succubic magiscience holds that the depletion of sexual energy following virginity loss is a spiritual-metaphysical phenomenon. In other words, completely and totally irreversible. But that’s bullshit!”

Vivi looked up sharply at the sudden outburst of passion from the succubus.

“Those idiots in the academy just don’t want to let go of their precious little doctrines!” Ziratha fumed. “They’d rather sink billions into pipe dreams than admit the textbooks could be wrong.  I mean, the SuperCharm Collider? Seriously? It’s a joke! But once I get my funding, I’ll be the one who’s laughing!”

She let out a loud, rich cackle worthy of her demonic forebears.

“See, my research indicates that the source of this problem is purely neural-psychological,” Ziratha ranted. “In other words: if you can turn back the clock on someone’s mind, you can completely refill their sexual energy. It’s a perfect solution. Renewable energy for all, forever. But the Institutional Review Board won’t give me the damn funding for a proper set of clinical trials.”

“Hold up,” Vivi broke in. “Are you about to tell me that I’m your guinea pig? And… you want to turn me back into a virgin?”

Ziratha grinned, her eyes flashing behind her nerdy glasses. “Exactly! Behold my Transcranial Magical Stimulation Unit. Which I expect to be known more widely as: the revirginization helmet!”

Reaching over to her workbench, she picked up something that looked halfway between an old VR headset and a military-issue tin foil hat.

Vivi folded her arms over her battle vest. “There’s no way I’m wearing that.”

“It’s safe!” Ziratha insisted defensively. “I made sure of it. If it wasn’t, this would kill my entire career.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Vivi replied, unconvinced. Then, she tilted her head to one side, and a crafty, dirty grin slowly spread across her face. “Hey. How about you and I go someplace comfortable and find a solution to a different kind of energy crisis?”

“Huh?” Ziratha blinked.

Vivi kept grinning and winked.

“Oh, I see.” Ziratha smiled wearily. “You want to have sex.”

Vivi giggled and nodded. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” the punk girl said, “but you look like you could do with a little top-off.”

Ziratha frowned. “Rude!”

In truth, though, she couldn’t be too offended. It had been a long time since Ziratha had fed properly, and it showed. Proper, nourishing partners weren’t easy to come by. Her deep red skin had taken on a slightly unhealthy pallor, her horns were nubs, and her tail was just a thin, dainty little thing. It was a far cry from the kind of overbearingly transhuman appearance succubi could have if they were permitted to glut themselves to their hearts’ content.

Admittedly, Ziratha wasn’t exactly playing to her own strengths. Instead of anything particularly alluring, she was dressed in the universal uniform of the overworked grad student: an old t-shirt, grey sweatpants and comfy sneakers, with a lab coat over top. Her hair was tied back in a hasty ponytail, her huge, round glasses made her look like exactly the nerd she was, and she hadn’t bothered with any makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes.

Beneath it all, though, she still had a killer body. She was still a succubus, after all.

“What do you say?” Vivi proposed. She glanced pointedly at Ziratha’s chest. “Wanna turn those C-cups into something bigger?”

Ziratha was surprised Vivi knew so much about how energy levels affected succubi. “You’ve slept with my kind before?”

“Sure have.” Vivi’s smirk was infuriatingly cocky. “A few times. And don’t worry - they were never disappointed. I know just how to treat a girl - mortal or demon.”

Ziratha rolled her eyes at the lewd comments, but she was smiling too. This made Vivi the ideal test subject. It was what Ziratha had been hoping for when she’d first laid eyes on her. Vivi was tall, hot, and confident, and while Ziratha knew better than to judge a book by its cover, Vivi did look like someone with a certain amount of ‘experience’.

She was pure punk, top to bottom. Vivi was wearing a battle vest covered in patches and spikes over a simple, loose-fitting top, and beneath the belt she had on a pleated skirt, some torn stockings, and an impressive pair of boots. A lot of the skin she was showing was covered in ink, and both sides of her head were shaven, leaving her with a messy streak of hair that was dyed neon blue.

Ziratha would have been pretty shocked if Vivi had told her she was a virgin.

“As attractive an offer as that is, I’ll have to decline.” Ziratha didn’t bother to conceal her weary sarcasm. “You’re a guinea pig.”

Vivi rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess I can think of worse things than getting my ‘sexual energy’ replenished - whatever that’s gonna feel like.”

“Great. Great!” Ziratha immediately started ushering Vivi deeper into her lab before the punk could change her mind. “Take a seat, please.”

She gestured towards a chair that looked like it had been ripped out of a hospital examination room, with all kinds of wires and machines hooked up to it. Vivi glanced at the chair dubiously, but still moved to sit down.

“What’s all this, huh?” she asked, settling.

“Just monitoring equipment,” Ziratha explained. “Taking your vitals, measuring neural readings. That kind of stuff.”

“Nerd stuff, got it.” Vivi winked. “OK. I’m ready, I guess.”

Ziratha could barely contain her excitement. This was it. Her breakthrough. Her triumph. But the succubus was too much of a scientist to count her chickens before they hatched. “Here. Put this on.”

She handed Vivi the helmet she’d spent hundreds of hours designing and building. The punk looked at the strange, ramshackle device even more dubiously than she had at the chair, but she did as she was told. Once the helmet was properly adjusted, the screen mounted to it hung in front of Vivi’s face, obscuring most of her vision.

Ziratha tapped a few keys on her laptop and the screen came to life. A few lights and indicators on the helmet started to glow and flash, and the whole apparatus began to hum as the large capacitors mounted to it started to charge.

“Hey, so, how long is this going to take, anyway?” Vivi asked. The punk sounded a little less brash and a little more uncertain now. “Is this, like, some kind of long-ass meditation thing? Because I have places to be.”

“No, don’t worry,” Ziratha answered. “It’s much quicker than that.”

The succubus tapped a few more keys, checked a few readouts, and then hammered the space bar.

There was a huge, bright flash, like an old camera going off.

Vivi went still and stiff for a moment, and then groaned faintly.

“What the fuck?” she complained. “What… was that it?”

“That was it,” Ziratha confirmed. Her tail was very straight, and her voice was thick with anticipation. “How do you feel?”

“My head is throbbing.” Vivi slipped the helmet off her head and blinked as her eyes readjusted. “You could have given me some real warning, you know. So, did it work?”

Ziratha glanced at her laptop screen. “According to the diagnostics, it should have worked.”

“How’s my, uh, energy?” Vivi asked, a faintly mocking smile on her face. “Any of your fancy instruments tell you that?”

Ziratha simply returned the smile. “Oh, I don’t need any instruments for that at all.”

The succubus reached out and took Vivi’s hand, and let her demonic sixth sense for energy tell her everything she needed to know. Her smile immediately became a wide grin. Oh yes, it had worked. Succubi could always tell when someone would make a good meal. It was no different from any other predator’s sense of smell, although physical contact made it far more precise. Right now, Vivi had the scent of a ripe, untouched virgin.

This was it. The breakthrough Ziratha had long searched for. Her invention was about to change the world.

Despite such heady thoughts, though, Ziratha wasn’t celebrating. Something else had caught her attention. There was something very strange about the way Vivi was reacting.

The punk girl was trying not to let it show, but she kept squirming and shifting in her seat. A distinct pink blush was showing in her cheeks, and Ziratha could feel Vivi’s palm starting to turn hot and sweaty as they held hands.

The succubus tilted her head. Now this was very, very interesting.

“Vivi,” Ziratha said. “How do you feel now?”

Vivi couldn’t seem to meet her gaze. “I-I’m fine,” she blurted out in reply. “It’s nothing.”

Ziratha wasn’t buying that for an instant. She had a succubus’s instincts. She could tell when someone was seriously flustered. Experimentally, Ziratha lent in closer and squeezed Vivi’s hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Jeez!” Vivi’s voice was a little too strained. Under Ziratha’s watchful gaze, she twitched tellingly. “You’re just being kind of l-lewd.”

Lewd? Just by holding her hand? “Fascinating…” Ziratha murmured.

The succubus pulled away, allowing Vivi to breathe a sigh of relief, and inspected some of her equipment readouts more carefully.

“It clearly worked,” she said, as much to herself as to her test subject. “But there’s signs of something else, too… hey, Vivi. Remind me: you’ve had sex, right?”

In contrast to her earlier, cocksure attitude, Vivi now looked like a deer in headlights at the question. “W-w-well, yeah! Of c-course!”

“So your memory hasn’t been affected, just…” Ziratha murmured, before turning back to Vivi and clapping her hands. “I think I know what’s happened!”

“What?” Vivi demanded. “I mean, uh, nothing. Obviously. But what?”

“Just as I was hoping, my revirginizer helmet completely returned you to a virgin state regarding your reserve of sexual energy,” Ziratha explained. “But I theorize that it also affected some of your closely-related inhibitions, skills, and arousal responses.”

Vivi blinked. “And what does that mean? English please.”

“Well, do you remember being a blushing, nervous, inexperienced teenager, years ago? Remember how much ‘steam’ you had to blow off on a daily basis? Remember how it made you feel when a girl so much as looked at you?”

Vivi nodded, and waited for Ziratha to say something else. But when Ziratha just glanced at her significantly, the punk girl turned as white as a sheet.

“N-no way,” Vivi protested. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so.” Ziratha giggled. “It’s all connected, it seems. Congratulations. In just about every way that counts, you’re a virgin again.”

Vivi turned from white back to red upon hearing the v-word said out loud. She made to stand up. “I-I can’t believe you did this to me. I gotta get out of here.”

“Wait, wait,” Ziratha urged. She moved to Vivi’s side and calmed her with a simple hand on her arm. “I should really run a few more tests. Just to make sure.”

The succubus’s nostrils flared. She was shocked at how potent Vivi’s energy now felt. It was palpable, even when they weren’t touching. She could sense it in the air. Clearly, she had to investigate further. All in the name of science, of course.

Vivi was back to looking flustered, but she still threw a mutinous glare at Ziratha. “Y-you’re crazy! I can’t believe I even…”

Ziratha swiftly decided that if the betterment of succubuskind wasn’t a good enough reason for Vivi, she’d have to resort to other forms of persuasion. She bent down at the waist, putting her face close to the punk’s, and made her eyes very big and alluring.

“Please?” she whispered, in a voice that was suddenly soft and intimate. “Won’t you stay with me?”

Vivi looked like her body temperature had just shot up ten degrees, and Ziratha noticed that she couldn’t seem to meet her gaze properly. The succubus was sure she wouldn’t have fallen for that five minutes ago, but now she was a total sucker. “S-s-sure,” Vivi managed, in a strained voice.

“Wonderful.” Ziratha licked her lips. The distinctive virgin-scent Vivi was starting to give off was just delicious. “These readings - and reactions - are extraordinary. And I’ve done nothing more than hold your hand.”

Vivi whimpered plaintively.

“I can’t help but wonder,” the succubus murmured, “what kind of yields you might produce with slightly more purposeful stimulation.”

Vivi’s eyes registered alarm but, before she could protest, Ziratha slipped closer and planted a kiss on the punk girl’s cheek.

Her reaction was as immediate as it was striking. Vivi let out a faint gasp and her back arched slightly, even though she was clearly trying as hard as possible not to show it. But even more striking was the intensified deer-in-headlights look in her eyes, like she was desperately struggling to figure out what this meant and what she should do about it, even as she was so devastatingly flustered she couldn’t even manage basic addition.

Ziratha’s nostrils flared again. This was amazing, and she was starting to become aware of just how long it had been since she’d had a real feeding.

“Wow,” she said teasingly, momentarily letting her instincts get the better of her. “Just from one little kiss, huh?”

Vivi whined indignantly. "I-it’s not… that’s… t-this is nothing!”

“Yeah?” Ziratha couldn’t resist a giggle. “It’s just so funny - you seemed so cocky before. So experienced.”

“I am experienced!” Vivi tried to insist. “I’ve f… um… fu… I mean, you know… I’ve had s-s-s-“

Ziratha’s grin just kept growing as she watched the previously fierce punk trail off, her blush growing steadily deeper as she struggled to bring herself to actually say it. The transformation was quite the sight to behold. She had to keep pushing Vivi further. She just had to. It was part of the experiment, somehow, she reasoned. The succubus took advantage of Vivi’s helpless spluttering to press closer still and put her lips right by her ear.

“Sex?” Ziratha breathed, pouring as much suggestion and seductive glee as she possibly could into that one, single word.

Vivi looked like she was about to explode.

“You see?” Ziratha drew back, smirking victoriously. “You’re not experienced. Not really. Not anymore. You can remember that you’ve had sex before - but that’s it. And you can barely even bring yourself to think about those memories, because you might get too worked up. Neither your mind nor your body knows how to handle it.” She giggled. “Typical virgin.”

“I-I’m not…!” For a moment she thought Vivi was about to start tearing up, but then the punk girl managed to rally herself. “Y-you’re just messing with me! That’s all! It’s your stupid little machine, making me all confused. T-that’s the only reason I can’t think straight right now. I’m not, um, w-worked up.”

“Yeah?” Ziratha challenged. “Then explain this for me, please.”

She reached down and rested her hand firmly on the big, unmistakable tent in Vivi’s skirt.

Immediately, Vivi went as white as a sheet. Clearly, until that moment, she hadn’t noticed the huge hard-on she was sporting. She attempted a protest, or perhaps an explanation, but all that came out was a few strangled, incoherent sounds.

“My, my.” Ziratha licked her lips again, without even realizing it. She was so very hungry. “You see? You’ve become so adorably excitable.”

Vivi whined as Ziratha started stroking her fingertips along the surface of her bulge. “Y-you can’t just… what the hell are you d-doing? This is harassment!”

“I’m a scientist, Vivi,” Ziratha chided, in a voice that made her sound anything but scientific. “After my experiment, it’s only natural for me to give you a nice, thorough examination.”

The punk girl let out another whimpered protest, seeming to sense Ziratha’s ulterior motive, but under the succubus’s ministrations that soon gave way to a weak, pitiful moan. The new virgin was like putty in Ziratha’s hands. The power, the energy, the scent - it was all intoxicating.

“In particular,” Ziratha decided, “I think it’s only proper that I get a reading on your, ah, endurance. I really think - I really do think - it could be very, very scientifically interesting.”

Science was increasingly slipping out of view. Ziratha’s gaze was set firmly on the huge tent in Vivi’s skirt, and it was getting harder and harder to think clearly. After a little teasing, that sweet, sweet virgin energy was coming off Vivi in waves. The laboratory was thick with its scent.

Vivi was still giving the succubus that achingly alluring deer-in-headlights look, but after a moment, her willpower started to wane. She nodded. Ziratha’s nostrils flared. That made sense too. What kind of virgin had the resolve to say ‘no’ to a succubus?

In exchange, Ziratha decided, maybe it was time to make good use of some of the inherent succubic talents she’d spent all of grad school neglecting.

Ziratha straightened up and, as Vivi watched, shrugged out of her heavy lab coat. As it fell to the ground, she reached up and removed her hair tie, shaking her head to make sure her hair cascaded down around her face. Vivi was all but hypnotized by the sight.

But that was only the beginning.

Next, Ziratha took her t-shirt by its hem and lifted it off over her head. She moved slowly, though, letting the helpless punk watching her savor the sight of her tummy and cleavage being revealed. The way she slipped out of her sweatpants was even more seductive. She made a dance of it, swinging her hips from side to side as she peeled them away from her body to expose her long, sculpted legs.

The striptease left Vivi with a little trail of drool escaping one corner of her mouth. She couldn’t seem to stop leering. Her eyes were shining like she couldn’t believe her luck, and the tent in her skirt was now marked with a growing spot of damp precum.

Underneath her clothes, Ziratha wasn’t wearing lingerie, merely a comfy sports bra and a matching pair of boxers. But that, she decided, was plenty to work with when it came to a virgin.

And from the look on Vivi’s face, she was right.

“Tell me,” Ziratha panted, “have you ever gotten a lap dance before?”

Vivi looked almost panicked as she shook her head.

“Great,” Ziratha purred. “Then I suppose this will be a genuine first.”

Effortlessly, the succubus eased her weight into the examination chair, and backed up inch by inch until her naturally huge, curvy ass was pressed right up against Vivi’s hard bulge.

Vivi squeaked like a mouse.

At this point, her every little noise and twitch was like a red rag to a bull. The newly-restored virgin’s scent was so thick in the air Ziratha could taste it. Her hunger was awakening instincts she’d never known she had. Moving to the sound of unheard music, she started grinding and gyrating like she’d been doing it all her life.

The effect the lap dance had on Vivi was nothing short of explosive.

The punk looked like every bit the virgin she now was. Her eyes were wide and practically bulging, and her mouth was contorted into a goofy, uneven shape halfway between an amazed grin and a look of desperate, anxious disbelief.

She looked like she was about to blow.

“C’mon,” Ziratha mocked, in a voice dripping with honey and brimstone. “You can do better than this, right, virgin?”

Her teasing elicited another strangled whimper that just made the succubus want to push Vivi further and further. She danced her way up the punk girl’s body and turned to face her, rolling her hips as she pushed her ass back out behind her to grind into her throbbing bulge.

“Be a good girl,” she teased. “Hold on a little longer for me.”

Vivi just nodded haplessly. Her eyes were scrunched up closed, and she was gripping the sides of the chair so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Ziratha could just imagine what was going on in her head. Baseball scores. Times tables. Whatever she needed to help not utterly humiliate herself.

“Let’s see if you can handle something a little more… direct.”

Ziratha arched her and straightened her tail, daring the virgin punk writhing beneath her to open her eyes and stare at her amazing tits. Then, she reached back and used her deft fingertips to unfasten Vivi’s skirt. Vivi let out a moan that was as much protest as eagerness, but it didn’t stop Ziratha from using the motion of her hips and thighs to slide the garment out of the way, and then pull aside her panties until her hard, leaking cock was completely exposed.

Zirath’s long, forked tongue lolled out of her mouth as she stared at it, dripping drool down onto Vivi.

She needed it.

“Good news, punk,” she breathed, shivering. “You’re about to get your cherry popped.”

“W-w-what?” Vivi exclaimed pitifully.

“It’s, uh, for the experiment,” Ziratha reasoned. She was frenzied as she tore off her bra and panties. “I need to sample, uh… and, well, get a reading on the volume of…” She rolled her eyes and licked her lips. “Actually, forget the science. I’m just hungry, and you’re ripe for the eating.”

“B-b-but!” the trans girl spluttered, as Ziratha positioned herself against her cock. “I-I don’t know if I’m ready yet!”

“Yeah?” Ziratha paused, bemused.

"I mean… uh…” A bashful look came over Vivi’s face. “It’s just… I maybe… I wanted it to be special. You know?”

“Oh my god.” Ziratha snorted a laugh, and grinned wickedly. “You are going to be just delicious.”

In a single motion, she dropped her hips and impaled herself on Vivi’s cock.

Immediately, Vivi’s voice shot up an octave, and she let out a girlish cry of absolute pleasure. Right after, Ziratha’s rich, gleeful moans joined the chorus. The succubus couldn’t believe how good the virgin’s cock felt. It wasn’t just the sensation. It was the sustenance. Merely being in Vivi’s presence for the last few minutes had made Ziratha fiercely hungry. Now, at last, that hunger was being sated.

Once she recovered from the initial hit, Ziratha started moving her hips and bouncing greedily on the end of Vivi’s shaft. With each bounce, the punk girl underneath her thrashed madly in a clumsy, instinctive attempt to meet Ziratha thrust for thrust.

She mostly failed. But the attempt, at least, was adorable.

As she rode the sensitive, inexperienced punk, Ziratha started howling with glee. She’d never had the pleasure before, but it was true what they said - there was nothing like milking a virgin. Her body was humming with energy, and every time she buried Vivi’s cock to the hilt inside her pussy, the sensation got sweeter and sweeter. Something about the flavor of a virgin’s energy was utterly transcendent, and it was made all more nourishing by what it represented.

Ziratha’s complete and total victory.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before Vivi’s moans started to peak, signaling that she was at the edge. Clearly, despite her memories, the virgin had absolutely no stamina. Ziratha wasn’t going to complain. The orgasm was the sweetest part of the meal.

“Go ahead!” Ziratha urged. “Blow your load already. We both know you can’t hold back anymore.”

With a cry of absolute, mortified bliss, Vivi exploded inside her.

Ziratha’s moans peaked too when she felt Vivi’s virile, nourishing cum paint her insides. It was better than anything she’d ever felt before. The power, the pleasure, the feeding - all of it. Ziratha could already feel her body priming itself to swell and change with the infusion of fresh energy.

The ecstatic rush of it made her greedy. She wanted more. She wanted it all. Ziratha squeezed down on Vivi and started riding her harder and faster than ever. Every bounce, every thrust, coaxed more and more sweet, sweet cum from the virgin’s cock, until Vivi was whining in blissful agony as she came down from the high of orgasm. Eventually, Vivi’s eyes rolled back  into her head and simply passed out, her mind overwhelmed past its limits by sheer pleasure.

Ziratha kept riding her all the same. The succubus didn’t stop until she’d milked her for every last drop.

Eventually, though, once her hunger was sated, she slumped down next to the punk girl, giggling intermittently in giddy, light-headed glee. The succubus’s head was already filling with daydreams of fame and wealth when Vivi came to and pulled her into a hesitant, needy embrace.

“Hey, u-um,” Vivi whispered earnestly, in a voice that was anything but punk. “W-was it good for you too?”

“Huh?” Ziratha roused herself. There was something strange about the way Vivi sounded. No; about the way she felt. Ziratha had expected her to start returning to something closer to her normal behavior.

“I-I-I just, uh…” Vivi was once again turning bright red. “I-I thought it was really special. You know? Like, um, maybe we really have a connection.”

Ziratha seized Vivi’s hand again and, as Vivi stared at her hopefully, paid close attention to what she could sense from the punk girl. When the penny dropped, she started cackling.

“Oh my god!” she howled. “I can’t believe it. You’re still the same way. As fresh as ever.”

“What do you mean?” Vivi sounded defensive.

“I’m definitely going to need to hold you for some… oversight observation. Just to make sure.” Ziratha licked her lips suggestively. “But I can already tell. It’s like your brain can’t adapt anymore. Not just your energy levels. Your social skills. Your inhibitions. Your stamina. Everything.”

“What?” Vivi pressed anxiously.

“It’s the revirginization,” Ziratha pronounced. “All of it. It’s permanent.”

***

Mere weeks later, it was a very different Ziratha that stood upon the stage to make her big pitch to a room packed full of succubus leaders and investors. It wasn’t just the confidence - although she had that in spades, now that her Nobel prize was apparently all but assured. Her body had changed too. She stood taller. Grander. She exuded power and presence, and all of her body’s assets had gone from merely ‘hot’ to inhumanly mouth-watering. Her horns were a massive, knotted crown upon her head, and her tail was as deft as a whip and as thick as an anaconda.

All thanks to her favorite little meal.

Vivi was standing a little way behind her on the stage, and while physically she was unchanged, she seemed to have shrunk just as Ziratha had grown. She exuded a fragile, nebbish submissiveness despite all tattoos and piercings. She wore a choker collar bearing Ziratha’s name around her neck, and she was wearing a dress.

Ziratha liked her that way. And Vivi was no longer able to argue with the succubus.

“So, as you can see from our data, our early clinical trials have borne out the most promising of my invention’s results,” Ziratha was saying, as she rounded off her speech. “The regression to maiden status is, both psychologically and metaphysically speaking, permanent. The process isn’t damaging, but the subject’s mind naturally sheds its ability to develop new sexual skills or comfort zones, physical or social. Accordingly, their energy levels remain at peak capacity and potency - forever.”

Ziratha paused for a beat, letting the crowd of succubi sitting in front of her drink that in.

“In short,” she concluded, “they’re helpless perma-virgins. Isn’t that right, Vivi?”

Vivi blushed an incredibly deep red and looked down at the floor, but nodded.

“So!” Ziratha clapped her hands. “It’s safe to say that we’re ready to move into pre-production. Soon enough, each and every one of you could have one of my devices in your very own hands - assuming you’re willing to provide me with funding, of course. What do you say, ladies? A future of infinite, renewable energy awaits us!”

As expected, the auditorium was immediately filled with thunderous applause.

The age of the Succubus Energy Crisis was over.

The age of perma-virgin mortals and succubus dominance was about to begin.

---

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, J, Secret Subject, Kathryn, Lucy, Dex, orangesya, Red, dmtph, Ember, MegatronTarantulas, Vanessa, Matt, Jeremy, Mattilda, Emily, William, ntad, Flluffie, Silgon, The Flock, ourladyoflilacs, Luna, Abigail, steb, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, nicholas, Sue, Alan_, mintyasleep, Noelle, Lavender, Madness, Michael, Tasteful Ardour, Michael, Matthew, Full Blown Marxism, Anonymous, GrillFan65, Huge_Nerd, ZephanyZephZeph, Tram345, 8947jts, Chris, Breadloaf, Kyle, Emma, Jack the Monkey, Paul, Willow, Shadows exile, Drone 8315, Matthew, Alex, Madness, Sam, Selina, Daniel, Bubble_Butt, Francesca, WhyamIhere, John, Sarah, Crittergang, Setcab, Erin, Elysium, Bacon Man, Flintnsteal, Arik, John, bluaph, Kyle, Morriel, Jack the Monkey, Sola, NewtypeWoman, Envy, hellenberg, shoktherapy, L, Jim, Black Star, Kay, Michael, John, Praxis Memetics LLC, Frank, William, Olives, Christopher, Charlotte, Faun, Riley, Brinn, Brendon, B, Jackson, Kyle, Dennis, Nandi, Sanya, David, Morder, Myles_EXVS, Jade, Skylar, Foridin, gabbermoth, Jennifer, Selina, Violet, Slifer274, paxDulcetGirl, Roxxie, Hal, Devi, Phoenix, Laurel, Ivy, Jim, Michael, Joseph, June, Yaoups, Yooby Bomb, Peter, Paige, Sophie, imaencuru, Thomas, Katherine, Liz, uusavutonauto, Jens, Ada, EepyTimeTea, nitin, hypnoenby, Sebastian, ds2coffin, Yaoups, SuperJellyFrogEx, Utumnon, Bacon Man

[solarpunkani]

this is a personal vent but its a somewhat anti-capitalist/anti-grind culture vent so its going here but like

I wish I could have one (1) hobby that just stays a hobby and remains a fun lil heehee hobby without one or both parents desperately trying to get me to monetize it.

Like I am JUST learning crochet. I have been crocheting for less than a MONTH. I have ONE finished project. And my mom is ALREADY sending me lil instagram reels like 'heehee this is how much I made from my ~crocheting business~ in the month of October' and sending me a bunch of eyes emojis and dollarsign eyes emojis like, first off my beloved mother that woman has been crocheting for YEARS maybe even DECADES and I just picked it up three tuesdays ago, but second of all I don't necessarily wanna just make a buncha shit and then sell it online!!! I wanna make stuff for me and maybe friends and family if they ask really nicely, but nooooo now mom wants me to Perfect the Craft so I can sell on etsy and instagram and whatever.

This would be a Mild Annoyance if this wasn't simply the first in a long string of 'what if you monetized this hobby.' Which, granted, sometimes I do it to myself, but I'm really trying to stop.

Oh you like gardening? What if you monetized it! Sell vegetables at the farmers market! Sell cut flowers at the farmers market! Start your own small business! What do you mean, you mostly do it for personal enjoyment and environmental reasons? Just grow a bigass plot of zinnias, forget about your other stuff, and sell sell sell!!!

Oh, you like creative writing? You like writing novels and short stories and fanfics?? Go be a copywriter! Go be an adjunct professor, because you're totally qualified! What? You don't wanna write manuals and advertisements? But you're such a good writer, go make money off of it!

Oh you wanna learn sewing?! Learn sewing!! Quickly!! Not for your own personal enjoyment of the craft, I'm gonna start a business selling bags and YOU"RE gonna help me!!! I'm not asking permission btw this is me telling you--

Don't even get me started on the absolute slog that has been trying to become an animator and selling art commissions because I like drawing and animating and how that's been going for me, or the fact that my mom seems to think Masters Degree in Animation = Qualified Graphic Designer, which is not the same thing.

It's just exhausting. I would like to be allowed to have one hobby that doesn't immediately read as dollar signs in my parents eyes, yknow?

anyways capitalism grind culture is a hell scape thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[buttercupjosh]

Seasons of Love

(Gif credit to @youmustlovehim)

Word count: 2,772

Genres: strangers to lovers to exes, a little bittersweet

Warnings: none

A/N: I’ve had pieces of details of this fic in mind for a while and I started to slowly write it out over the past few months. This title comes from Seasons of Love from the musical RENT, although there’s nothing in the story connects to specific details from that. The story is not based off of anything specific, just a plot that had been simmering in me for some time. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this season. However, the season is still ongoing at the moment and anything can happen or change). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

““How do you measure a year in the life? How about love?” -Seasons of Love from the RENT musical soundtrack

Prologue

“Excuse me, is this a good book to read?” a deep accented voice asks you.

“Dune? For sure, it’s an epic story,” you reply.

“Do you think I could finish it in 4 days?” the voice asks.

“4 days? Unless you’re an Olympian at reading and processing complex storylines, I’d say it might take you close to 4 weeks or even 4 months to read it all,” you respond.

“Oh,” the voice says in defeat, “what do you recommend then?”

You list off some sci-fi recs for the towering cute man and he takes your suggestions into mind before deciding to get a copy of We, a novel written by his fellow countryman Yevgeny Zamyatin.

“I’ve never read that one,” you chimed.

“Should we start a book club then so you can read it?” the voice asks with a chuckle.

“Um, how can I start a book club with someone whose name I don’t even know?”

Slightly embarrassed, the voice introduces himself as Andrei and you introduce yourself to him as you shake hands. His hand in yours felt so comforting for someone you just met under an hour ago. Andrei was impressed that you knew so much about books. One of his New Year’s resolutions was to read more so that’s how he ended up at Barnes and Noble talking to you. You were at the store, just looking around for something new to read, and stumbled into the sci-fi section before checking out with your new copy of Happy Place by Emily Henry.

“So are we starting this book club then, Andrei?” you slyly ask.

Andrei wanted to have someone as a reading buddy to discuss reading with him (the other guys on the team weren’t as into reading as him) and it didn’t hurt that he had someone who knew a lot about literature right in front of him so he agreed to it.

“As long as you read “We” with me, please?” Andrei charmingly requested.

Although sci-fi wasn’t your thing at the moment, you couldn’t quite say no to the man with big brown doe eyes so you grabbed a copy off the shelf. Before going over the parameters of the newly formed book club, Andrei kindly paid for both of your books and you decided to discuss the rules in the cafe located inside of the store.

You and Andrei sat in a semi-secluded booth towards the back of the cafe and began sharing some of your backstories with each other over drinks and muffins. Andrei was again impressed by your educational background of holding an MFA in Creative Writing from NC State and your job as an adjunct English professor at Wake Tech Community College; it definitely explained your love of reading but your dream was to move to New York and become an author one day. You were working on a manuscript for a cute romance novel but still had a lot of things to do before it was ready to be presented to a publisher. The professor job was just a placeholder until you finished up your manuscript and saved up enough money to get a literary agent; you loved writing as much as you loved reading but getting your foot in the door in the writing industry was rough. You listened to Andrei as he told his story about his life and how he ended up in America through his hockey career. You and Andrei were both curious about each other and asked so many questions to each other for such a long time that you didn’t even notice that the store was going to close. Neither of you wanted your time together to end but you both had lives to get to outside of the store. You both laughed when you realized that you and Andrei spent so much time getting to know each other that not once throughout your conversation did you discuss the rules of the book club. Before leaving, you and Andrei exchanged numbers. You both agreed to read the first 50 pages and scheduled to meet up at a different cafe to discuss what you read so far in two weeks.

————————————————————

Winter

Within a year, the book club didn’t last long but it did lead to you and Andrei being in constant contact with each other. Due to both of your schedules, neither of you really had the time to sit down and have deep intellectual discussions about what you read; you both did end up finishing reading We but you finished it at different paces. Being the book lover you are, you completed the book first but Andrei finished reading the book while on the road and he wanted to discuss the ending with you so bad that he surprisingly FaceTime called you. That one FaceTime call with Andrei turned into a long series of texts, phone calls, and more FaceTime calls and eventually spending time together offline. You and Andrei considered each other to be just friends but that friendship eventually turned into you falling for each other.

Andrei was a hot commodity around Raleigh and in Russia with his DMs bursting at the seams but he only had eyes for you. He had never fallen in love with someone the way that he did for you; being with you was different than what he was used to but it worked in the best way. You knew the risks and chaos of being with a busy, famous athlete but Andrei was worth all of it. You blended and adjusted well into the hockey romantic partner lifestyle and Andrei even taught you how to ice skate. Despite the busyness of your lives, you and Andrei still showed up for and made time for each other, even if it was something as small as meeting up at your place for a post-afternoon game milkshake from The Shiny Diner or as big as taking Andrei as your date to your work holiday party. Whenever you had the time, you and Andrei created fun, everlasting memories together. A somewhat sweet memory that Andrei would always remember was when on one cold evening, you wanted to surprise your Russian boyfriend by attempting to make him borscht, a traditional Eastern European soup that was his favorite comfort food. The soup did not come well at all so you and Andrei ended up ordering Panera Bread to warm your bones. Although the soup you made tasted unpleasant, Andrei appreciated the fact that you took the time and effort to learn something from his culture and did that from your heart. The poetic thing about your relationship was that you patiently understood each other, despite the language and culture barrier; your relationship just worked like two puzzle pieces clicking together into place.

————————————————————

Spring

As the flowers bloomed around Raleigh, the school year for you ended on a good note and unsurprisingly, the Canes made playoffs. Deep into your manuscript writing, Andrei surprised you with a trip to New York after the Canes were eliminated from playoffs. You and Andrei were already spending the entire off-season together so this trip wasn’t a necessity but it was a nice thing to do.

Your time in New York was amazing and full of love, fun, and plenty of delicious food. While you were in the City, you took the opportunity to meet with some potential literary agents and publishers; although your manuscript was about 90 percent done, it didn’t hurt to check those things out. Andrei was supportive of you and your dreams but he selfishly wished that those dreams didn’t include moving to New York and that you would stay in Raleigh and have a life with him there. He had already known his future was tightly connected to the City of Oaks but you had a desire to create a future somewhere else. You knew these dreams of yours could possibly involve leaving the love of your life; neither of you tried not to dwell too hard on the stress and pressure that those dreams added to your relationship. You also knew the publishing industry was cutthroat and competitive and that there was no guarantee that your book would be picked up by a top publisher but those realities didn’t stop you from at least trying to take the steps towards that dream.

Outside of this pressure, you and Andrei still made the best of your time in NYC. You also loved musical theater so of course, you had to catch a Broadway show. Andrei, being the amazing boyfriend that he is, actually secured tickets for the two of you to see Hamilton at the Richard Rogers Theater. You had watched the live stage production on Disney+ and knew the entire soundtrack; Andrei went into the show blindly, only remembering bits and pieces from the songs that you played around him. Seeing Hamilton live on Broadway was a great experience that you both enjoyed. You and Andrei got to see New York City in a different light; you got to explore more of the city that you longed to call home and Andrei got to see more of the city as a true tourist. This entire trip was something that you both would forever cherish.

————————————————————

Summer

Not long after you left New York, you went to Russia for the first time to meet and spend time with his family and friends and to see the place that made Andrei into the man that you love. You learned more about Russian culture, Andrei’s childhood, and even was a guest at his cousin’s wedding. Andrei’s friends and family approved of you as a person and they liked you with him; they could all tell how truly in love you were with each other. You also spent some time together in Turkey and around Europe for some much-needed relaxation; you got to see the beautiful blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea in Greece, eat authentic handmade pasta in Italy, and kiss your lover in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris.

Traveling around with Andrei made you feel like you were the protagonist of a great summer read. Speaking of reading, Andrei still maintained his goal of reading more books, reading just about anything and everything, and even started to recommend things for you to read. Before you would fall asleep at night, you would share with each other a fact or synopsis of something that you read that day.

While Andrei was occupied with his off-season training during the day, you applied for publishing jobs, presented your finally completed manuscript to several literary agents, and ended up securing one. It was relieving to officially have a literary agent to represent you but the next biggest hurdle was the painstaking editing process and waiting for your work to be picked up by the right publisher.

————————————————————

Fall

After the bliss of the off-season ended, it was time for the hustle and bustle of your teaching job and hockey season to return. About 2 weeks before preseason started, you and Andrei moved in together. It was exciting to get to live with your lover and spend even more time (whenever you could) with him. It was also nice that you got to add your style to the place and make it your own; having a home also meant that you could host your friends, Andrei’s teammates, and sometimes family for holidays and events and create more cherished memories together. Being a hopeless romantic who loved romance novels, you had always wondered who would be the man to sweep you off your feet but you sort of already knew that man was Andrei.

A fun memory that you made together was the Sunday before the season opener, you and Andrei took a trip to a local corn maze with a pumpkin patch to take cute couple photos together and to also check it out. These photos would be added into some of the new picture frames and a scrapbook of memories in your shared home. The photographer did an excellent job, capturing the love that flowed between you in still moments. For the rest of your time, you wandered around the corn maze, hand-in-hand, with your lovely boyfriend. The infamous oak trees in Raleigh began to shed their leaves and the year began inching closer and closer towards the end.

————————————————————

Winter part 2

One snowy morning, you got an email from McGraw Hill, offering you a job as an educational copy editor in their NYC office. You couldn’t believe it, you were on the path of working at a publisher and hopefully, one day getting your book published; all that you had been working so hard for was starting to pay off in tremendous ways. The only issue that was concerning you was breaking the news to Andrei. You knew he would be happy for you but you also knew what the next steps were. You tried to hold in your tears but after practice, Andrei came home to you crying. He immediately dropped his stuff and concerningly asked you what was wrong. You explained to Andrei that you were crying joyfully over the news you received. Words couldn’t describe how proud Andrei was for you so he picked you up and spun you around in happiness.

“I’m so proud of you, my love,” Andrei repeated as he peppered kisses around your face.

He was truly proud of you but the ecstasy of the good news came with the most painful come down. Andrei didn’t want you to move to New York but he had already known for a while that you wanted to leave. He did try to convince you to stay and he hoped for months that you would change your mind but you didn’t so he helped you pack some of your things. Andrei couldn’t help you move up there so he entrusted Nykki, Martin Necas’ girlfriend, to help you settle into your new home and life, more than 500 miles away from the address you once shared.

You and Andrei did try dating long distance but your relationship unfortunately didn’t last very long. Between the responsibilities of your new job, revising over your manuscript, trying to get your book published somewhere, and Andrei’s hectic hockey schedule, you began to drift apart from each other and the physical distance between you didn’t help either. You enjoyed living in New York and you did miss each other from time to time but Andrei knew it would be unfair to ask you to give up on your dreams to come back to Raleigh and be with him. Despite not dating anymore, you and Andrei talked occasionally but not as frequently as it was when you first met and still remained friends. It was okay that the relationship had run its course because it taught you both a lot about love. Andrei came into your life for a season and those seasons you shared together were full of so much undeniable light and love. The love that you shared was different from the romance novels you read but your relationship wrote its own beautiful story.

————————————————————

Epilogue

Before catching his flight to Miami for the NHL All-Star break, Andrei went into the bookstore at Raleigh-Durham International Airport to look for a book to read on his flight. In the book section, he spotted Seasons of Love, written by you with a New York Times Bestseller sticker on the cover. Over the years, Andrei had heard some things about your novel in passing but he purposely avoided reading the book because the breakup was a bit painful for him. After you achieved getting your book published, you wanted to send Andrei a signed copy but decided against it because you weren’t sure if he would actually read the story and didn’t want to come across as pretentious either. He debated back and forth about getting the book before finally asking a store employee about their opinion about it.

“I read that one. It’s a fictional story but I heard it’s loosely based on a true story about the author’s relationship with some cool guy. It’s a super good read if you like romance," said the store employee.

Hearing what the store employee said about your book made Andrei’s heart warm a little and he purchased it as his read for his trip. After returning back to Raleigh, conveniently, there was a book signing by a familiar author at a local Barnes and Noble that Andrei decided to attend. Although Andrei didn’t get his happy ending with you in real life, you sure gave him one with the words that you wrote on the page.

[betterthanapokeintheeye]

The Pratchett Project - Terry Pratchett at the Unseen University

[Event News]

The Pratchett Project - Terry Pratchett at the Unseen University

Location: Trinity Long Room Hub, College Green Dublin 2 Ireland

Date: Fri, 22 Sep 2023 18:00 - 22:00 IST

The Pratchett Project in Trinity College Dublin is an interdisciplinary platform for research into the life and works of Terry Pratchett. It builds on the comprehensive collection of Pratchett’s works and their translations into forty languages, held in the Trinity College Library, as well as Pratchett’s personal connection with the College, borne out of the adjunct professorship he held from 2010.

A further part of this endeavour is driven by Pratchett’s own life story and inclinations. In 2007, Pratchett publicly announced that he had a rare form of young-onset Alzheimer’s disease, called posterior cortical atrophy. He subsequently became a passionate campaigner who was determined to reduce the stigma of dementia. A docudrama on BBC followed the literary career and charitable work of the beloved author.

So, research into brain health is an important part of the Pratchett Project in Trinity College. The Pratchett Project are currently developing this strand of the project to find new ways in which the implications of breakthroughs in research can be “translated” for members of the public. They aim to bring people together from various backgrounds and fields to make new connections, to promote public understanding and awareness, to change perceptions and inspire people to support brain awareness campaigns and get involved.

This Culture Night, they will be joined by a wide range of speakers, each discussing their research, which is in some way connected to the life and/or work of Terry Pratchett.

THIS EVENT CAN BE ATTENDED BOTH ONLINE AND IN PERSON.

It will also be recorded and uploaded to their youtube channel.

Tickets are available through eventbrite.

[the-empress-7]

“People would rather believe in the most absurd conspiracy theories, than admit that a mother of three young children is alive and well.”

Is this the bullshit about the video being AI generated?

Bloody hell.

How old are these people?

The rest of us are just hoping our adjunct chemo isn’t too gruelling for Catherine and that she might be well enough to go to Wimbledon, because she loves it so much.

Also, she better bloody take her parents and Pippa! 🇬🇧

Unmask them all I say.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi!

First of all, I really appreciate your work here! I love discovering new games and i have added some to my list based on your recommendations

Right now I'm looking for a solo ttrpg that is meant to be played in extremely short daily sessions. I want to play a little round each morning as if it were a daily wordle or newspaper crossword puzzle. Just a quick dopamine hit without having to commit multiple hours.

I know that with solo games, it is easy to do things at my own pace anyway. But are there any solo games that incorporate short, daily sessions as a feature?

THEME: Short, Daily, Solo Games.

Myrtle Manor, by aiyujellies.

On the edge of the cliffside lies a crumbling manor swathed in blankets of shadow. A cloaked figure darts out of its entrance, a gaping maw, and disappears into the forest, their footprints featherlight and fading in the snow...

Myrtle Manor is a solo journaling role-playing game. It requires a tarot deck, two coins, and a medium to record the story. For every entry, you will draw a tarot deck and consult the oracle for guidance on what kind of person you meet. Each day you will meet a new person.

You’ll want to keep in mind why you’re visiting the manor and what secret your character is trying to find (as well as what secret they are trying to keep). Each entry comes with a section called Mind Your Presence, in which you determine what each meeting means to your character.There doesn’t seem to be a definitive end to this game - I’m assuming you can play for as many days as there are tarot cards in the deck, but you could also tie things up sooner if you find the story reaching a natural conclusion, or whenever you get bored. Definitely worth checking out!

Your True Name, by Pearse Anderson.

Your True Name is a spell-generation storytelling game to play with some choice five-letter words. It is a one-page Lost & Found hack of Wordle, the online spelling sensation, designed to be one-player and played in fifteen minutes or less!

In Your True Name, you become a magic word being Spoken by generations of spellcasters, each of them trying to use your magic and get closer to Your True Name (today’s Wordle answer). The game changes each day with the Wordle and with each player’s guesses, making the replayability endless and a perfect way to generate fun spells for your other campaigns and games. You, as the magic word you inhabit, can travel between the lips of waterfall watchers, bandit-kings, aeronauts, illusionists, and Mage College adjuncts, changing and growing in both power and potential volatility.

This gives you a way to game-ify another morning activity, that activity being Wordle. I was inspired to recommend this game when you mentioned a daily Wordle, because I knew I had seen this game somewhere. You could stay within the same world / character as you play, or hop between characters or bouts of inspiration.

The Bonsai Diary, by Sticky Doodler.

It's 2023, and you plant a small tree seedling, imagining its future. Bonsai trees can live hundreds of years. Who will inherit this living being? What will that person think of you in 2178? Will they think of you at all?

This is a beautifully contemplative game, in which you embody various generations that are all responsible for caring for a bonsai tree (and possibly more). Throughout the game you will find small pieces of facts about trees and notable tree-related history. The game itself is a printable booklet that you will draw in, answering questions about 6 generations and how they came across the bonsai. If you want to continue past generation 6, the booklet contains instructions for longer play.

You Beyond the Pale, by S. Kaiya J.

You don't belong in the mortal world. You live alone, and you have always lived alone. You have yourself, and you have your own territory. The mortals have their own realms, and the mortals have each other. So what happens when the mortal world starts coming to you?

You, Beyond the Pale is a solo journaling RPG based on the Aspire SRD. Take up the role of a unique monster, adrift and alone, bewildered by a world full of mortals. Observe them. Learn about them. Scare them, or leave gifts for them. Make a friend. And brace for when your friend tells the rest of the mortal world about you.

S. Kaiya J writes extremely poetic and thoughtful games, and this one is no exception. Using a deck of cards, you will chronicle the story of a monster who makes a new, mortal friend. The author encourages you to select a prompt in the morning, think about the possibilities throughout the day, and return to the game at night, before you go to bed. If you want a game that draws a story out over a month, this might be the game for you.

Loved in Triangles, by James Shannon.

Loved In Triangles is a solo GM-lessTTRPG about romance, relationships and choices. Through playing you'll explore 6 months in the life of someone deciding whether to stay in their current comfortable relationship or to risk it all on the possibility of something new. The game requires a standard deck of playing cards.

If you want to play a game that deals with a topic that has some weight to it, you might want to check out this game. You will draw cards and your character will have to make a decision about what they want in life when it comes to romance. You can base these characters off of different versions of yourself, inspired by fictional characters, or something else altogether.

You are Autumn, by Turtlebun.

You Are Autumn is a game for one person. It takes only a few moments to play.

This is possibly one of the shortest solo games I’ve seen on Itch. It’s more of a writing or journaling exercise than it is a storytelling game; each day you write about the things you cherish and how they leave you to be replaced with something else. I feel like you could either stick rigidly to the premise of this game, or you could expand on it, create new rules, or use it as part of another journaling game.

Games I've Recommended in the Past

Global Dragon Egg Conservation, by KuumatheBronze.

Also...

You might also want to check out the Lunch Break RPG Bundle, which are meant to be short and quick to play. Not all of them will be solo, but a good number will be! (Limited time only)

[isagrimorie]

So I scoured the Voyager transcripts— turned out contrary to what fanfics and fandom claims. You can count the number of times Seven says “Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01” in one hand.

After her initial introduction Seven hardly uses her full Borg designation. The few times she does is when its to address another Borg and establish seniority.

Or with the EMH Doctor in season 6, Virtuoso as a formal way to end her “fan letter”.

Most of the time other people use it, especially, the Borg Queen whenever she wants to call Seven to her.

The Borg Queen’s done it in Dark Frontier, and Endgame. Alt!Borg Queen also does this to Seven in the alternate timeline in season 2 of Picard.

Also, Seven uses her birth name,“Annika” in a specific way— as a Shibboleth, to remind herself of herself when her individuality is under attack. Usually around the Borg Queen.

But Seven’s preferred name will always be “Seven of Nine” or, imprecisely but more acceptable, Seven.

(Some people who have never seen Voyager are baffled why Seven prefers Seven despite it being a name given to her by the Borg. But this is because emotionally Seven of Nine doesn’t feel a connection to the Human who was Annika. Now, if Unimatrix!Annika, the Human entity survived the Severance its another matter.

Also, if Seven ever saw the TV show Severance, during her both in 2024, I feel like she would feel such an affinity with the characters).

I did notice that when Seven references her parents, she calls them “The Hansens”.

Which might have added to Seven’s annoyance to being called “Commander Hansen”. Despite that one weird slip where Seven claimed the Borg killed her parents* in season 2 of Picard— Seven is still IMO, not fond or forgiving towards them.

*(Always funny to me that Seven blamed the Borg for killing her parents… because while her dad was an assimilated drone in the Dark Frontier, she could have also tried to save her dad. Told Janeway about her dad, but nope, Seven told no one.)

Seven occasionally used “Annika” for specific things but I think it’s the “Hansen” name that annoyed her more.

This is why, if there is a Star Trek Legacy show one of my wish list is that it turned out Dr Erin Hansen survived and is now an ex-Borg.

It would he such an interesting story for Seven dealing with the reality of a parent being alive. She would also have the satisfaction of confronting her mother.

Also, for me, finally, having Erin have more focus than Magnus.

[luna-rainbow]

Oh FFS 🤦‍♀️

I’ve been staying away from Marvel news so I only just saw this.

Give Sam his own story.

The Cap stories do not have to be about the serum or super soldiers (in fact I'd argue CATWS and CACW were not about the serum either). Sam's stories do not have to involve serum or super soldiers. There is no reason for Bruce to be in there when he jetted off to space in She-Hulk! Give us a story about Sam, the man himself, that's not an adjunct to some other story.

Also, Bruce peaked in The Avengers and they just have not been able to handle him since. He's either being comic relief or magic plot device, and I cannot trust Spellman to handle him and his trauma when he can't even deal with Bucky's much more blatant trauma.

[kaleuh]

tell me about ghis GlenMac?

I WILL Tell you about GlenMac !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO

THIS IS GLENMAC (Official Book Art) AND THEN HERE'S A PICTURE OF HIM WITH HIS BEST BUDDY, Adjunct Professor and Graduate Jackson Green (art that me and my group got commissioned of them by nico on twitter!)

FULL NAME: Glenn MaClanahan (If you're formal, it's Professor MaClanahan, but all the students gave him the nickname GlenMac!)

He's a professor in the Anthropology Department at East Texas University, located in the cozy town of Pinebox, Texas. He and Jackson know fully well that there's something extremely uncozy about Pinebox, though. When you (the player) attend ETU as a freshman, you are quick to notice that there is something very unnerving about the town, and the school. Rumors of ghosts, monsters, and rituals—things that could easily be explained away by pointing at college students and children in town with too much liquor and imagination. GlenMac and Jackson are here to tell your character: No! You are not crazy! You definitely saw the ghost of a student who was burned alive in the gymnasium!

GlenMac (as well as Jackson) are the NPCs in this story who are initially there to serve your character with an introduction to the supernatural. GlenMac can really be any professor-appropriate age (I believe the book says he’s in his 40s but given the book art our DM [my boyfriend!!] deemed him to be 32 in our game. He also thought it would make sense to make him younger since him and Jackson (who is in his mid 20s) are supposed to be close pals.)

GlenMac has been investigating the supernatural for years, and deeply cares about the well-being of his students. Anyone who comes to his office hours for help will never be turned away—especially if "weird stuff" has been happening to them. In his office you'll also meet his life-long companion, a Scottish Terrier named Argyle, with whom he takes on regular walks throughout campus. He is overly caring and self-sacrificing to a fault, though, willingly placing himself in danger to protect someone who needs it. He's aware that students will occasionally stumble upon magic resources and rituals—because of this, he's been said to be searching for a method in which anyone can safely accomplish a ritual...without having to sacrifice anything to the Magical Powers That Be in return. Which seems like a great idea! A Professor with a deep thirst for the knowledge and power of the unknown, also willing to try literally anything, even if it means putting himself at the whims of Possibly Dark Magic for the good of others. It will work out fine for him, is what I've been telling myself!

SO OF COURSE, because it's a TTRPG, not all GlenMacs are the same. Here are some other fast facts about the GlenMac I know, and why I'm insane about him:

When my basketball himbo son (my character Trey) went through a tough breakup during freshman year, him and Jackson played Boggle with him and the party until he cheered up.

Also when my son was alone and sad in Pinebox during summer vacation, GlenMac adorned his best dork-ass dad jock attire and joined him on morning runs (with Argyle).

He's often stressed and formal but under that he is Sweet and A Tad Silly and a bit of a dork and god. we love him for it

GlenMac doesn't really pay attention to current pop-culture stuff online but if you tell him he Lost the Game he WILL get mad.

Unbelievable in that turtleneck.

Grew up in North Dakota, had a big falling out with his parents and has been largely alone. It's implied that he never really had a friend like Jackson, up until him (and depending on how nice your party is to him, your group.)

AND YOU CAN TELL HE'S LONELY. GOD. HE PUTS EVERYTHING INTO THIS WORK AND HIS STUDENTS. How much time he spends alone with his thoughts...the supernatural stuff probably pushed anyone he cared about away. He has his little apartment with his folded-cornered books and half-finished coffee cups and toys for his dog...but we want him to meet someone So bad 😭 (GOD I wish it were me.)

His desire to know the unknown and try things "just to see if he can" is dangerous, reckless, scary, and a little unhinged...he a little fucked up...I'm scared for him...(but its also...😳...).

This is not canon to our game but we keep joking about how girls on Rate My Professor won't stop referring to him as "Big Mac" and that he's desperately been trying to get those reviews removed.

If you ever get curious about East Texas University, I highly recommend it! I love the Savage Worlds system so much!! We're playing the East Texas University “Degrees of Horror” adventures, which is the "main plot" campaign for East Texas University (we also do some 12-to-Midnight adventures.) I think the story can be set anywhere in the 2000's so we just set ours in modern day.

We're not finished yet, but it has truly been a life-changing story so far!

GENUINELY, TRULY, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING

[tina-aumont]

Raïna interview at VoyageLA page.

[Raïna and her horse Quincy]

Dr. Raïna Manuel-Paris has a multicultural background, born of a French father and a Dominican mother. She was raised in France and England until her early 20’s then moved to the US. Fairy tales and Legends were her refuges. They helped her understand the difficulties of her childhood. By the age of twelve, she had read most of the myths and legends of the world. From Ireland and Russia to Arabia. She holds a Ph.D. in Mythological Studies with emphasis in Depth Psychology from PGI.

She also holds a Masters Degree in Film from Columbia U. She taught Magic and Ritual and Myth and Symbol for 15 years at the Art Institute in Santa Monica, where she also offered guided meditations and somatic energy work. Her own spiritual seeking and evolution has taken her from Bali to the sacred shores of Lake Atitlan in the Guatemalan Highlands of the Sierra Madre… She is also adjunct faculty at PGI where she taught a course in Archetypal Patterns in Cinema. She assisted Dr. Lionel Corbett during his Psyche and the Sacred workshop with its ritual aspect. She has also taught at the Relativity School in Downtown LA. She is a published author of non-fiction and scholarly articles: Trauma War and Spiritual Transformation, Journal of Jungian Thought, 2017; The Mother- to-be Dream Book. Warner Books, 2002.) She is also a poet and published one book of poetry with Raven Books as well as several poems in various publications. Her documentary the Bridges of My Father was selected for the short film corner at the Cannes Film Festival in 2009.

[Raïna's husky mix Numen]

Currently, Raïna splits her time between Los Angeles and Ojai, CA. She works with individuals in a process she calls “The Cradle and the Crown,” assisting men and women in coming to alignment body mind and soul, developing deep aliveness as well as careful listening to the whisperings of their soul’s desire. She also uses the Tarot and other oracle tools to help her clients. She is a speaker /lecturer at the Joseph Campbell roundtable on the Tarot: the 22 universal patterns of transformation and on Love: Primal Agent of Change as well as the Myth Salon in LA. She has given numerous lectures at the Philosophical Research Society and taught workshops based on the Cradle and The Crown process. She practices Natural Horsemanship, with her horse Quincy, and also spends time exploring the Ojai valley with her husky mix, Numen. She also plays the ancient frame drum and sings. She is working to complete a novel with archetypal motifs. She also wrote a play with writing partner Susan Kacvinsky: “Seeking Sophia” which had a staged reading in Los Angeles in 2014.

Her work with students, including many veterans, always emphasizes the ways in which one reconnects the Soul of the World, Anima Mundi, with Corpus Mundi, the body of the world, and how to hold the tension between the inner world and the outer world in a way that engages curiosity and compassion. She worked on an online course “Awakening the Magician Within” as well as on her lecture “What Women Want”. Probably the one thing that has been at the core of her life is the understanding that we are all spiritual beings, whether we know it or not, magical beings with a desire for healing and love. And that archetypal stories, and the ancient mysteries of nature, provide a helpful direction towards an authentic relationship with the Self. Having a life with ritual and contemplation is very helpful as well. Soul, she believes, needs Mystery more than Meaning in order to feel the joy of its divinity.

[Raïna Paris]

Has it been a smooth road? A life is not a smooth ride, ever, if you want to actually live. What I learned as a child was so filled with confusion and misunderstanding, judgment, and rage, I became fear-based and so mixed up inside I had to learn to untangle all the different strands of my life and identify them, like the four impossible tasks given to Psyche, There has been many losses and deep grief along the way as well as health challenges. But always the deepest learning comes from all those challenges as well as the wisdom of the body, Re-learning to listen to the instincts and the intuition, trusting the inner guidance which has always been there but that took time to relearn to trust. I had to learn how to live from a place of inner authority as opposed to outer expectations. The mystical tools, like the Tarot, and the wisdom teachings of the ages, have always been beautiful signposts along the way.

We’d love to hear more about your work and what you are currently focused on. What else should we know? I am not someone who likes to teach or talk about something for the sake of talking. I need to come from love in whatever I do. Specially because I was so fear-based, And I also need to know what I am talking about, what I am trying to convey, not only intellectually but in the body and in the heart. I am a scholar, a guide and a poet. And I do not ever talk about a subject however scholarly without implicating myself on a personal level. It’s not something I decided to do, it’s just how I am. I am always trying to live a life that is absolutely personal and authentic to me and at the same time, share my experience with others in the hopes that it might be helpful or useful.

So I go into the places of the In-Between, of liminality. It is the place of dreams, of imagination, and it is also the world of Nature, where the truth lives, at the threshold between this world and the archetypal world, I work with the tarot from an archetypal viewpoint because it is an ancient wisdom tool and I believe it helps give perspective to this crazy road trip called life, which often seems to spiral back to the same places we have experienced before. I also teach a seminar about the Cradle and the Crown process which helps people connect with the power and passion of childhood joy as well as the wisdom of inner authority. Once the weeds of false beliefs get rooted out, I find there is a beautiful way to live in tune with the Self and the world around us.

[Another photo of Raïna and her horse Quincy]

Let’s touch on your thoughts about our city – what do you like the most and least? I love that the city is surrounded by Nature, so close by, from parks and mountains to ocean.

It is a challenging place with just as many opportunities to heal and transform, as there are opportunities to lose oneself.

Raïna Paris interview at VoyageLA on-line magazine published the 20th May 2020. The name of the person who wrote this article or conducted this interview is not listed.