#again. on a certain level i know this is all just my paranoia and is unreasonable. but its a feeling thats really hard to shake off yknow

[dcdreamblog]

So Uncle Sam you're powered by belief in America right? Considering current events I'm not sure you're getting much belief huh.

(As this is the first question, gonna lay down some background. I want this to be as semi professional as I can make it) I met Sam on my lunch break where he normally hangs out, bringing my phone, my notepad and hopefully some questions from you all (I hadn't checked). Sam insisted it would be better if we did this someplace private. Bringing me down into the lower levels, past the labs where I sort artifacts into a disused conference area. He clicks the light switch in a specific rhythm which he tells me will disable the listening devices and cameras (we don't know what, if anything, the Perisphere's security is still feeding data to but putting a pin in that paranoia) He sits across from me at the table. I pour him a cup off coffee, I don't touch the stuff but he thanks me and I pull up my phone to the first question. Uncle Sam(US): "Should have known that it would be something contemporary..." *He crosses his arms and folds his legs, his lips tighten back and forth.* Me: "We can skip this one if you don't want t-" US: "No, no, it's a fair question. Being the way I am it's only right folks have got questions." *He tugs at his beard and sighs* "My friend. The untidy balancing act of my life is that both sides of the aisle think I'm rootin for the other guy." Me:"You mean the left thinks you're right. And the right thinks you're left?" US: "That's the modern way to say it, sure enough. To the progressives I'm a conservative icon. An image of the American empire, the army and congress and Tammany hall. To the conservatives I'm a naive softy, an idea for pinkos and reds and god knows what else. I don't know how to explain myself other than to repeat it for the 100th time." Me: "This is on the record, I'm certainly not going to stop you." US: *He sighs* "There's a lot more belief going around than you think. The fire at the base of my belly-" *He jabs himself in the sternum with his thumb* "Is the commandment "all men are created equal, endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." *He tips up his hat with his thumb, scratching the edge of his hairline* "Now I know the verbiage there is downright old fashioned. I can't apologize for it anymore than I can change it, but the heart of the matter is where it is. If you're out there, fighting to improve and hone and reforge the American experiment. You're fightin' with my hand on your shoulder." Me: "That sounds fairly progressive to my ear, but that might just be me." US: "Oh hell, the whole idea was radical back when we were throwing tea in the harbor. When John Brown stood on a gallows and showed half the country its ugly side. When a whole sprawl of folks stood on the national mall and said "I Have a Dream". It's just..." *He bites his lip* Me: "Some progressives are beyond that point now." US: *He sits up, nodding* "Same as it ever was. Using the right cause as an excuse to burn the whole thing down and spill a lot of blood along the way. That I won't never abide. Not in my nature. I saw revolutions to that effect. Saw where they lead. From a vantage not a lot of other folks get to have. Scares the sam hill out of me." *He pauses, waving the thought off* US: "Ah but those kinda folks'd never listen to me anyhow. Short answer turned long and then short again, I'm eatin' plenty, every time people keep that faith. On a march, in a parade, just help someone at risk with an open hand. Just...maybe believe there's some life left in this old Red, White and Blue? For me, folks?"

[leomonae]

🌟Happy fic moment of the year🌟

Thanks for the tag @fanon-and-canon! I did admittedly gaze in consternation at this one for a few minutes because fluff is not something I consider my strong point lol, but I remembered a sweet enough moment.

Share an excerpt from any fic of yours that you wrote this year, depicting a happy / fluffy / cute moment that you're proud of. Let's spread some joy for the last moments of the undeniably fucked-up year that was 2024.

(This one's from the as-yet unfinished epilogue fic for the We Shall Not All Die series featuring Illithid Tav/Astarion)

That evening, when Astarion slips into bed beside Tav, he snuggles up to her immediately, wrapping his arms around her narrow torso and nudging her tentacles aside with his head so that he can tuck his face against her shoulder. There’s a feeling of quizzicalness from her as she arranges herself to hug him in return, all four tentacles and one arm, followed by the gentlest brush of her mind against the boundaries of his, there and then immediately gone again.

She’s still feeling unsure as to how welcome she is to even just suggest it, clearly; Astarion hesitates, dithering, then tells himself to stop being such a godsdamned coward and gives a slight nod against her shoulder.

“Just, ah – just the surface level, please, darling,” he murmurs, and is unable to wholly keep himself from tensing up in anticipation.

Tav notices, of course – there’s a sharp spike of worry, unease, and that feeling he doesn’t have a name for but associates with her trying to refuse to do something, out of fear for how he’ll react – but it seems Astarion hasn’t fucked things up so badly that they’ve lost all the progress she’s made, learning to stop arguing so much and just accept what he tells her he wants to try. There’s a sense of cautious agreement that follows, then the feel of her mind settling in place around his own, familiar and comfortable, comforting, in a way that has Astarion letting out a soft sigh of relief without even meaning to and pressing himself up against her more securely.

Tav’s satisfaction and simple, unshadowed joy at being close to him once more are practically purring between them; Astarion smiles a little, then nudges her with his nose in wordless acknowledgement, knowing he must be giving her back something rather similar.

They stay like that for an indeterminate length of time, simply existing within one another, drifting in a pleasant haze of belonging. There’s little worry or uncertainty to taint the experience, beyond that for what Astarion knows he still has to bring up, and Tav’s awareness that there is something he’s keeping back. Though that’s just fear of the unknown on her part, of course, and it’s seeming lessened since earlier, presumably due to his partial explanation providing some reassurance.

He doesn’t have any way to say for certain that she’s keeping to her word and not delving any deeper into his thoughts, of course, and he knows the hint of paranoia will most likely always still be there, but… he knows her now, has known her too deeply and for far too long, to truly question the matter.

Astarion doesn’t want her going deeper into his mind at present, so therefore she won’t; it’s that simple.

Gods, but he truly does love her. The whole of her.

Tagging @littlejuicebox @ollysoxisfree (mwahaha good luck finding fluff of your own :P) and @takaani!

[beesandwasps]

The post about the Reddit thread where the religious family ignored their estranged gay brother’s will and stole all his money crossed my feed again, and I was just thinking about that. It feels like a majority of Americans have one of two attitudes towards the legal profession:

“Yes, I know that this [law/contract] literally and directly says ‘don’t put toxic waste in the refrigerator’ but I have this toxic waste here and I need a container to put it in and the refrigerator is right there so obviously they couldn’t have been talking about me.”

“Oh my god, lawyers are witches, if you don’t read the fine print in a contract they can literally have you deported!”

Both of these are annoying (and sometimes dangerous to deal with) but what is absolutely infuriating is that the legal profession regularly does stuff which encourages both of these ideas.

Like, our ridiculous gun problem in the US comes down to the Supreme Court having spent decades deciding that somebody who stockpiles unlicensed and unsecured weapons until at some point they or one of their family members goes on a rampage in a school or a business is “a well-regulated militia”. The law can literally say “[Thing A] is illegal” and the Supreme Court will come up with a way to claim that actually, no, [Thing A] is legal, it’s only [Thing B], which is not [Thing A] at all, which is actually illegal, because [Thing A] is something rich people want to do whereas [Thing B] is either something poor people might do or else is something which is hypothetically possible but which nobody would ever want to do unless they were specifically trying to break the law after this judgement.

And of course every contract that you encounter tends to contain things which are probably unenforceable overreach (software licenses and NDAs are good examples) but to be certain about what they really could sue you for means either a lot of tedious research or a consultation with an expensive specialized lawyer. How can you ever trust that contracts aren’t witchcraft when the Disney legal team can argue in court — without, apparently, having to worry that they will be disbarred over it — that the terms of service for Disney’s video streaming service will let Disney-owned restaurants poison you to death without significant penalty? Just running through any list of notable corporate lawsuits will give you a list of claims made by lawyers which are so ridiculous that they would justify almost any level of paranoia.

[eclaire-went-bam]

one of the difficult things to accept regarding npd for me was like

i also have psychosis and bpd, so one of my primary triggers were/are other people lying to me about anything at all, even as a joke. it'd send me into a state of pure paranoia and turmoil.

that kind of manifested in my npd as i am morally superior to everyone else, for being the most honest person you could meet and it was a high standard i held myself up to

but i'd sometimes notice the little lies i'd tell and how naturally and without thought they'd occur

i'd constantly lie about my achievements — confidently lie about them to groups of people and get praised for them. i'd constantly embellish stories to the point i'd forget the original details of them. i'd constantly say i liked/disliked things that i actually didn't/did. i constantly told half truths to make people easier to deal with. pretend to deeply care about certain things i simply did not. make certain events seem worse for sympathy and attention. whatever made the steak taste better, i guess. not to mention, the whole masking almost my entire personality thing & more

i'd never lie maliciously, but i still compulsively lied time and time again and i have been doing so since my elementary years. but i somehow convinced myself i never did at all. coming to terms with that and realising i'm kind of a hypocrite all along kind of drove a knife through me

i don't even know how i never noticed, when i'd literally intentionally pull obvious fake lies and intentionally get caught because ougg i'm such a bad liarrrr !!, just so people would feel more confident that i could never say anything false to them without them noticing my fake "tells" ???

not to mention, even if they weren't done with malicious intent, some of my lies still affected other people, and negatively too. at the end of the day, though i'm not trying to be maliciously manipulative, i still have a lot of learned behaviours that just come automatically because i don't know anything else. that doesn't make them okay

so anyways, i guess maybe i'm not fully honest, maybe i'm not the direct opposite of a liar, like i really prided myself on. but i think i can at least be proud that regardless, i'm still a person most people seem to have some level of trust towards, and i at least have some integrity

[ghostlyschizophrenic]

i might have to switch medications again. my psychosis is getting worse again (loud hallucinations, severe paranoia, certain delusions coming back) and i just don't have any room to go up on either of the antipsychotics i'm on. i'm also having severe mood swings that feel different than my bipolar. normally i have extreme moods that last from 5 days to about 2 weeks but i'm going from almost manic levels of elevated and self inflation down to suicidally depressed within the span of a couple hours. my body is so exhausted from how fast my mood is changing that i'm either sleeping 13 hours or awake all night because i'm so tired even sleeping is too difficult.

i don't know what's going on, and i talked about it with my therapist yesterday and she recommended talking to my psychiatrist to either switch meds temporarily to stabilize me or potentially long term. fortunately i still have a month before my fall semester starts so i can take the time to have a crisis lol

[tanejineri]

no age restriction but we recommend being at least 16 as we are willing to draw blood and slightly gorey things, hell even death and not tag it. if anything goes beyond that, i will label it accordingly

TAGS

#tanejineri - all of my finished art

#misc - wip artwork and text or update posts. reblogs for threads of misc posts also use misc

#reblog - whatcha think?

ART REQS - ✓

ART TRADES - ✓

i block people for a number of reasons, but its usually personal (and usually discomfort). if you're blocked, please do not try to evade this through alternative accounts! i already have paranoia issues thanks to the internet :D

wanna use my art? check the reposting policy to learn more about what you can and cannot do :3

if you'd like to know more about me, you can drop down here. id prefer if you read it on the custom site tho, i made it look all pretty after some guy came in and ruined it [snicker]

KNOW YOUR MAKER

This blog is created and run by @honey-snap (DNF <18) and is in no way affiliated with Nintendo, GameFreak, nor HAL Laboratory.

   ABOUT ME

Name - Rosie-Psi (Psi for this account)

DOB (MM/DD/YYYY) - 06/14/2004

Gender - Male

Level of Education - High School Diploma

Occupation - Unemployed

   INTERESTS / FAVORITES

Hobbies - Art (Sketching/Drawing, Animation, Writing), Cooking, uhh i dont fucking know

Books - The Notebook Trilogy (The Notebook, The Proof, The Third Lie [only really on an analysis level]), Warriors (Series), im going to get back to reading i swear

Films - Watership Down (1978), The Prince of Egypt, The Lion King (1994), How To Train Your Dragon [1+2], The End of Evangelion, Hereditary, Spider-Man: [Adjective] the Spiderverse (so all of it), The Fox and the Hound

TV Series - Neon Genesis Evangelion (im not one of those fans i swear), Invincible, Devilman Crybaby, TRON: Uprising, Arcane

Music - MUSE, Radiohead, femtanyl, Periphery, Lapfox Trax/HALLEY LABS, RYUWAVE, RedOgre, Terrorfakt, Converter

Video Games - ULTRAKILL, Rain World, The MOTHER Series (1+2+3), LittleBigPlanet (1+2+3), OFF, Fer.al (R.I.P), Animal Jam, Rhythm Heaven, Needy Streamer Overload

Other - Animals (Mammalia, Reptilia, Aves), Fictional Theology, Music Analysis

   BIO

HI!!! Welcome! I'm quite the nervous wreck sometimes, so I apologize ahead of time if your interactions with me are awkward. I have autism, ADHD, and depression, which can be hard to deal with, and is also often the reason why I am slow on making things. And also why I am so passionate about everything I do. I was also recently diagnosed with OSDD, so if I ever seem off or not myself, then uh. Whoopsies. I am also very jumpy and really suck at reading people I don't feel the vibes with immediately! I apologize for that as well!! AND I APOLOGIZE A LOT-

I got into MOTHER around July of 2019 when I was 15. It has brought out a lot of joy into me and has shaped the way that I am today! I've been creating content for MOTHER since August 2019, but most of it is private and archived. I have gone under multiple aliases, but Tanehineri is the one that has stuck and resonated the most, being the Japanese name for Tanetane island. The 'j' in my name is actually supposed to be pronounced the way you would a 'j' in Spanish, actually!

While MOTHER is no longer a main interest, I am not afraid to say it's my special interest! Whenever I am running out of things to think or create about, the series is there to give me something to occupy my time. I have multiple takes and headcanons, and I'm always open to hear and share my interpretations of these games with other people, so don't be afraid to ask me for my takes on certain aspects!

As an adult, I speak in a manner that wouldn't be very appropriate for a child. So please, if you're speaking with me and you're a minor, let me know! Otherwise I'll be saying vile shit about Pork Trooper or something.

I ran out of things to say, so uh. ENJOY! WELCOME!!! Once again, please don't be afraid to talk with me!

© 2024 tanejineri*

*this is just for flair i dont actually copyright this shit

[afreakingdork]

Time for: Another random midnight ramble

Even though we’ve seen so little of him throughout the fic I just LOVE the way rise Raph scratches an itch in my brain that makes me melt. Like- he’s just so understanding and definitely the most well adjusted when it comes to mentality and maturity, not just in being an adult but also emotionally.

He understands that things are at a standstill, and knows to leave well alone. Whereas Leo and Mikey still have two very different and more childlike and immature mindsets when it comes to Donatello.

Leo is paranoid, he is certain that Donnie would never change for anyone that he is not going to stop hunting them and scaring his brothers beyond repair. His immediate hostility keeps Reader and potentially Donatello at bay. They’re both very similar in that way and it would take one of them to take those walls down for the other to follow suit and even then he will still be paranoid.

Mikey in the other hand is the opposite, even if he knows it won’t happen he desperately craves Donatello to be part of the family it’s why he invited Reader and Donnie to stay for coffee and croissants. He takes in Donnie’s advice even if it may be condescending and treats it like gosspel. He wants him to come back around and even if he doesn’t understand it I believe that it’s part of the reason why he reached out to Reader in the first place. He CRAVES that connection, after all it is what brought Draxum into their family unit and start a villain rehab program. He sees the best in people whether it be to his detriment or not.

Raph on the other hand, he’s a middle ground of peace. He is weary of Donatello like Leo, he is skeptical and frankly doesn’t want the conflict to start again. But like Mikey, he’s not throwing him out the second he can, which leads me to think he had similar hopes to Mikey. He also wants that connection even if he doesn’t know it. They all do, they’re all just on different levels of it some being more bitter than others that they couldn’t reach it.

The best way to put it is acceptance. He’s not holding any grudges, they’ve both hurt each other and now neither of them want to actually fight so he does the mature thing and leaves it be. He tries to stop conflict before it happens though usually in vain. He keeps his family safe by just living his own life and not letting it be overtaken by the same paranoia that Leo feels.

I just love the big red blorbo, he deserves a hug and cookie for everything he’s been through. Also once again it may be a ReaderxDonatello fic but by gods I won’t stop finding other characters to simp over too.

Hypno may be married but by the looks of it Raph it good for the pickings sooo ima yoink the big red squishy toy.

Yyyyyoink

GOD I LOVE READING THESE!!!!! IT'S LIKE YOU HAVE DELIVERED ME A BIG OLD BOWL OF MY FAVORITE SOUP!!!!!! IM SLURPING IT UP!!!!

I think it's really interesting (I literally wrote it what am i talking about) if you think about how scared Donnie has left them physically and compare it to emotionally. Leo is arguably the least scared physically, but the most scarred emotionally. While Raph my appear to have the worst, it's actually Mikey that has the worst damage, but he's the one least connected to it! It's a comparison made intentional and literal considering his traumatic brain injury disconnected his ability to taste. To bring the croissant in from chapter 58, everything about what happened to them is layered, laminated, and interspersed! That's surely not even everything I've done, but I do adore metaphors and meanings so they are aplenty!

Raphy gets to really shine a few chapters down the line from now! I hope he'll continue to impress! He's not tied down as far as the story is concerned, I likened Raphala to having some kind of partner, but I wasn't going to write them! You are free to take anyone as you see fit, I won't tell 🤭

[jaigeye]

everyone is forgetting that saw gerrera was taught by anakin and obiwan (white) lol

i do take some issue with sw writers plopping characters of color into villain/antagonist/not working with the ‘heroes’ role and the fans making incredibly racist memes, i just wanted to point out the fact that he was already on the edge of being a radical and anakin’s presence and training shoved him over the edge along with the death of steela. as a nonwhite person who has seen their own friends radicalized in Very similar ways, i dont think there’s anything necessarily wrong with how he’s being portrayed. i think he’s a good mirror of real life circumstances. the problem inherently lies with the fans, although again as i said it has disappointed me that fascinating, complex characters who are also poc or poc coded (barriss, saw, Reva, for some examples) are mishandled by sw writers and fans.

I think you're misunderstanding me here. Sure, it's a good point that yes, Anakin and Obi-Wan played a role in his life, but I don't think TCW is even a significant enough piece of media to base judgment of his character off if; Rogue One is where he really began to take shape as the character he is, not just a one-off arc character that was quickly forgotten. The nature of the clone wars anthology style is that unfortunately most characters motivations and actions are molded or influenced by the main trio, so I don't know if that argument holds up, although it is an interesting one I hadn't thought about.

My argument is not that characters of color cannot or should not ever be villains... Yet I would strongly disagree with categorizing him as an antagonist. Even in Rogue One he felt like a sort of indelicate attempt to show the political complexities of the Rebellion. That is both where my praise and issues with his writing begin.

Isolated, he himself is a very nuanced and interesting character. Placed in a space with the other Rebel leaders, however, it quickly becomes frustratingly clear that the only Black leader of great significance in the plot, on the same level of narrative importance as Mon Mothma, is a politically radical and aggressive Black man, plagued by delusions of victimhood/paranoia. This is as some might say, not cool. Imagine a sheet of paper with all the rebels and imperials on it. Who are the aggressive, intense characters who are ruthless? (Outside of Andor, because although flawed I feel they did a better job,) that list would include Saw Gerrera, Reva, and Moff Gideon. The good, harmless Black characters? Finn. Jannah, with a few minutes of screentime. Maybe Lando, but he too is always sidelined and we don't get a really good look at his motivations or character. Who else? There are others, but none with enough plot significance to really make up for this imbalance. Plus, a lot of those characters die.

If he were one among many Black Rebel leaders of varying political mindsets, I think my personal gripes with his writing could be resolved more. (However, Black fans opinion here would matter more than mine.)

The basic thing is that Star Wars writers do not know or care about your friends. They don't seem particularly tapped into the political realities of young radicalized minorities right now. We have to be more serious and objective here than this.

Their points of reference were most likely Che Guevara and Malcolm X, so on and so forth. i could handle that under certain circumstances. Andor did a pretty great job portraying him. The Rogue One book did a good job. Then the animations get their hands on him and, as is kind of inherent to the nature of kids shows, they have to pick someone to make the bad or scary decisions to show kid viewers that actually, changing the world through any means possible is a bad thing, and that you should usually use your words, be polite, and not be aggressive or demanding like these ~scary~ people performing direct action. Why did TBB and Rebels choose to take the one Rebel Black guy and make him try to win by putting children&other marginalized people at risk and using explosives and shit? in a real life context, when we focus on the motivations of the writers and not the content of the character, it gets concerning. It is not all, but many of the writers. It is not all, but I'd say most of the fans. The problem is a pretty big one. When u write him in such a way that people r blaming him for character's deaths and accusing him of parental abuse, the writers did something wrong too, not just the fans

Saw Gerrera is one of my all time favorite characters in star wars, because I think he's fascinating and full of potential. But it's really important to be objective about the inequalities in writing here, and pay attention to the way the very few Black characters in a narrative are portrayed.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi, INFJ here (very Ti heavy, with immature Fe due to trauma) trying to mend my relationship with my ENTJ boss of more than a year. He strikes me as very Te-Se, not much Ni and very little F. I gave some very harshly worded constructive feedback (in private) about the corporate direction (and to some extent, him as a person) while stressed out (one of my PTSD triggers was set off by him being pretty pushy).

First of all, I totally recognize I messed up by giving such harsh feedback. My conscious intention was just to protect myself from his pushiness (by establishing boundaries, e.g. not working over the holidays) and also improve the company, but I see I was also motivated by PTSD related anger. Honestly I was actually thinking a bit of how transformative your blunt criticism of me has been, but that's obviously totally inappropriate in a corporate and unsolicited setting. The feedback I delivered to him was reminiscent of your style in your most critical messages.

While he initially said he agreed with most of my feedback at a content level, after my final message (the most harsh yet, which was the most direct in saying that I think he is overestimating his competence in certain areas, and also has weak interpersonal skills) he seemed really shocked and upset and said the trust has been broken in our relationship. He even seemed paranoid, and told me he had initially wondered if I was intentionally trying to sabotage him by quitting suddenly (which was his expectation upon receiving my final message, in which I did say I was considering quitting due to my disagreements with the technical strategy).

He has complimented me a ton on my work in front of the whole company as well as in private, gave me one of the biggest bonuses, etc. and my perception is that he felt extremely disrespected by me questioning his competence and vision. I apologized and was open with him about my PTSD and the other factors that influenced me to communicate in such a harsh way. And he seemed somewhat mollified and spent a lot of time addressing the content of my feedback with me. But, I know I need to work hard to improve the relationship. Do you have any advice? I'm in therapy for my emotional dysregulation, anger management, and interpersonal skill issues more generally, but just was wondering if you had specific advice for this situation given the types involved.

I had friction with another ENTJ that also ended with mutual paranoia and dislike. And notice more generally that I can struggle with types without Fe and/or Ne. Maybe I should compliment him more to show him I respect him, for example? My current thinking is to continue to be humble and apologize, do great work, give praise when it feels authentic, and share more openly of myself and what I'm working on regarding my communication skills and PTSD symptoms.

Also, one reason I'm so bold with voicing my opinions is that I'm also most likely going to finish my PhD and either leave the company or switch to part time. I've been direct with them about that as well. And also am fortunate to have a decent amount of other companies reaching out to me, so I guess I don't feel afraid. On a conscious level, I'm just motivated by love of myself and the mission of this company, but I can see that I have a lot to deal with on an unconscious level.

---------------------

Your last sentence about having a lot to deal with on an unconscious level is correct. Unless you address it, mending the relationship will be of limited effectiveness, because the underlying issues could easily flare up again in the future.

1) Emotional Intelligence: PTSD has a negative effect on emotional regulation. It leads one to overreact to emotional triggers. While negative emotions come and go of their own volition, you can learn to exercise more pause and care over how you respond to them. Things you need to learn/do (preferably in therapy):

emotional awareness: be aware of feelings/emotions sooner, when they first arise

emotional mindfulness: respond to feelings/emotions rationally and constructively when they are mild, as opposed to waiting and enabling escalation and even destruction

emotional triggers: figuring out what yours are, why they exist, and how to manage them in a variety of situations

emotional gauging: how to quickly tell when you are too emotionally triggered to function well and should step back

emotional management: the best strategies for disarming or deescalating situations and calming down when triggered

processing emotions: communicate about feelings/emotions in a way that is open and authentic but also respectful and kind

practice: exposing yourself to situations where you can practice the above and reflect on your performance

progress: defining benchmarks for keeping track of your improvement and areas that require more attention

2) Social Intelligence: Social skills are an ongoing thing to work on. Your behavior crossed all sorts of lines. You weren't offering constructive criticism out of care and compassion for someone who needed and requested help; you were airing your grievances out of hurt, anger, and arrogance. The fact that you couldn't tell the difference is very concerning. It indicates troubling issues with projection, judgmentalness, and lack of healthy boundaries.

It's good you admit your mistakes and want to take responsibility. However, people often struggle to take responsibility, even when they want to, because their perspective is problematic and they don't realize it. Try as they might, they keep losing control. For example, you say you have difficulty getting along with certain types. This is a subtle way of pointing the finger. When you don't own your emotions and triggers but, instead, claim that people trigger you, you put yourself in the position of helpless victim. As a victim, you're not in control. You can't avoid certain types forever. Leaving your emotions at the mercy of others, it becomes inevitable that relationship after relationship gets blown up. This pattern is common in INFJs who struggle with Fe development and Ti loop.

On an unconscious level, it is advantageous to frame yourself as the victim (for example, of other people's pushiness) because then you can subtly convince yourself that you are fine and would've been fine had they not been so pushy. In other words, when you don't fully own the problem, you won't really feel compelled to resolve it properly, then you won't gain the upper hand over it, and it is likely to recur.

It sounds like your boss did a lot to support and encourage you, i.e., to honor his part of the relationship. He is your superior and you the subordinate, thus, he doesn't owe you any kind of special treatment, nor should he elevate your opinion to the level of his peer. As a subordinate, what gives you the right to offer him unsolicited advice and personal criticism? You say you weren't afraid to vent, which is a manifestation of arrogance, of not having to care about anyone's feelings because you can just walk away from the destruction you wrought. Yet he still responded reasonably to your malicious criticism. Why? Probably because he cared about you as more than just a subordinate. Being ENTJ, he likely saw your potential and wanted to go the extra mile to nurture it, even when he had no obligation to.

While it's good to want to establish boundaries, it shouldn't be done through force or aggression, and especially not through anger. Anger may be the catalyst, but it cannot be the means. In a healthy relationship, boundaries should be negotiated through artful communication. But this hinges on your ability to: be aware of your boundaries, explain to people where they lie and why, and make respectful requests of people to honor them. If you weren't able to communicate authentically and instead left your feelings to fester/escalate into full blown anger, you dishonored yourself by not caring enough for your own well-being at the start. By attacking him personally, you dishonored the care and investment he put into the relationship. Yes, the trust is broken. You can't unstab someone.

If you truly want to mend this relationship, then answer this question: On what basis should he believe that this relationship is still worth investing in? How would he benefit from it? When you hyperfocus on how people mistreat you and you don't show enough acknowledgement/appreciation for the good aspects of the relationship, you've proven yourself too self-centered, so why should someone want to try again? Your personal attack on him belies an unhealthy judgmentalness and dishonesty on your part (symptoms of Ti loop). How can he be sure that you even like him after the things you've said? How can he be sure that you're not secretly harboring all kinds of negative opinions that will lead you to hurt him again any time you feel triggered/displeased? You don't like to think that people are secretly judging you, do you? Maybe that's what you've led him to believe by venting so aggressively and unexpectedly at him.

Having healthy Fe involves valuing feelings and emotions and using them as a reliable navigation tool in relationships. Healthy Fe helps you maintain respectful, kind, and fair relations with people. What have you done to develop Fe? In his mind, you were chugging along fine, better than fine, and then you suddenly blew up. Without healthy Fe, you can't see yourself from his perspective. What did he see? You acted like a promising employee, then you threw a tantrum like a child, then you wanted him to be understanding of your psychological issues like a therapist, and now you're the apologetic lover trying to assuage your guilt? Any reasonable person would be confused by these sudden shifts in relationship roles and expectations. You've forced him onto quite the roller coaster ride.

Generally speaking, when you've hurt someone and want to rebuild trust, you have to demonstrate that you've learned and changed and are now ready for a healthy relationship. Offer a genuine apology first and foremost. Exercise empathy. Express your care for them. Prove that you understand their perspective and what they've been through. Honor their contributions to the relationship. Make clear what you will contribute to the relationship from this point forward.

What kind of relationship do you want with him exactly? Do you want it to be strictly professional, as superior and subordinate? No feelings, you just do your job and walk away at the end of the day? Do you want him to be a mentor, a friend, or something else? What do you owe each other in a professional relationship? What kinds of duties and obligations are reasonable to place on each other? Define the relationship properly and stick to those lines and boundaries. Boundary setting is also an issue that can be addressed in therapy.

[another-corpo-rat]

In your opinion (and/or hers), what is the worst thing Victoria Crane has done?

this was such a fun thing to think about, so thank you anon!! putting this under a read more as once again, i have rambled quite a bit

In my opinion: it's likely what she did to her father's mistress / half-brother's mother. While Victoria treated that whole trio awfully with varying levels of severity, what she did to Angelo's mother was monstrous.

She, unnamed and so will be marked by [s] from now onwards, was a spitfire of a woman from Rancho Coronado. Confident despite her shaky foundations in life, not afraid to speak her mind and bare her teeth - that would all change when Victoria came on the scene.

Victoria was methodical in tearing this woman's confidence apart, at making little digs that could be waved away as meaning something else, something harmless but said in a way that made their meaning clear. The barbs dug in deep, and things [s] used to take pride in were questioned in a condescending way, coated in honeyed tone that was distinctly corpo. And Joseph had kept [s] largely away from the corpo lifestyle, so when Victoria arrived she was sorely ill prepared for being caught in its jaws.

When [s] did manage to get her own dig in once, Victoria regarded her with little more than a hum and looked at her like she was a fly in her drink; struggling in the boiling water of it.

Retaliation came in the form of a sensory assault; a military grade bite of a sonic shock that made [s]'s ears bleed and her skull ring for far longer than the quickhack was active for. It fucked up her hearing to the point she needed new audio implants, and still she could hear echoes of it almost at random. She was certain it was Victoria's fault, but couldn't find any way to prove it.

Life continued, with a soft ringing in her ears but there seemed to be a long period of peace after this event; Victoria was busy in Arasaka and [s] was able to relax in her home again, without paranoia nipping at the back of her neck. That would change on a night meant for celebration, a dinner at Embers to mark Angelo's recent promotion.

She had a very public meltdown and hasn't been seen since.

Meanwhile, Victoria's project OIZYS moved forward after a successful test-run.

tbh i consider this the worst simply due to how targeted it was, but Victoria has done a lot of terrible shit through the years that i reallly need to sit and think about / write out sometime

in hers: Look I love her but this bitch has a moral backbone made of stringcheese so it made really thinking about what she'd consider the worst thing she's ever done interesting.

It'd be a time she acted on impulse; someone brings in a potential new subject and she overhears the head of the project call them 'the New Smasher' and she just. sees red in a way she'd never admit to, a rush of protectiveness and fury she finds unbecoming in others. And of everyone she considers hers, Smasher is the last to need her guarding him in any way.

But, she does. And maybe its not as impulsive as she'd hide behind, because she has the sense to wait until the opportune time, knows to use an access key not her own to get into the empty lab, knows to repeat the camera's footage from the previous uneventful night rather than killing them completely. She lifts the nearest thing she could find and drives it into the subject's temple, twisting to scramble it enough that nothing feasible remained, that it couldn't be placed into a conversion frame.

No one knows, the act of sabotage is expected to have been from Militech - and the project head is investigated when its found he was talking quite publicly about this project when he shouldn't have been. It's easy to pile onto that avalanche so it falls on him, including a few spoofed emails to a Militech contact and he was gone.

She considers this one of the worst things she's ever done because she acted against Arasaka's interests, for entirely selfish reasons. And really, the more she thought of it after calming down, entirely unnecessary, Smasher isn't so easily replaceable and the fact the mere thought of it got her reacting like that isn't something she's proud of, or will ever admit to.

[arktaisch]

Terrible OUAT thought of the day

(Of course I should just be writing words that go in the story I’m currently working on, but no, I’m in the “I hate it, it sucks” phase plus the “Why isn’t it done yet? I want to work on something else, preferably not more fanfiction but I’m lying to myself” phase, so here I am, being distracted and not typing in the file I have open in the other tab.)

Rumplestiltskin really is a female-coded character (and it’s only getting worse in my stupid fanfiction, LMAO).

In this case, what I mean is that he invests so much into his one (and later, another one after the first is dead) child. And for that, he has such a risk-averse approach to life (‘cowardice���, ‘paranoia’, ‘over-protectiveness’) — a loss would devastate him utterly (and it did! Damn OUAT!). Fitting that he is a wizard, since that’s the sensible approach to being a wizard (though as the Dark One he could be the tank, I’m sure the powers that be would squash him as quickly as my wizard got killed that one time he had delusions of fighter-hood).

It’s extraordinary how he does NOT cut his losses and abandon Baelfire (except that one crucial moment when he let go), but works for centuries to find him again, when the ‘normal’ thing for a man to do would be to move on (just like Malcolm did and suggested that Rumple do, and Hook’s father did). His dedication really impressed me on a personal level, since at least three men in my family did in fact leave their wives and children and then start new families. None of them made any effort as far as I know to reconnect (to be fair, they might as well have jumped through a portal into another realm considering the circumstances). One set of offspring/father became known to each other again decades later through a bizarre turn of events, another contacted their half-siblings later in a more mundane way. So yay for surprise!cousins, I guess.

Well, but since I am so entrenched in the whole heteronormative/gender binary mindset yadda yadda yadda that must mean I gotta make Belle more male-coded… I suppose I did, in some ways!? And canon already leans that way.  I mean, adding more magic to the Belle ‘yang’/light and Rumple ‘yin’/dark was me, but… Canon has Belle being the one to be more impulsive and daring (she is the one going “do the brave thing” and hero this, hero that, so eh…) and just look at Lacey hitting on everything in sight (and telling Gold to kill that inconvenient kid from the prophecy, the one NOT genetically related to her)… even without a Lacey in my story, she’s still an aspect of Belle. Not to mention the whole Belle/Will Scarlet thing (unlike the Gold/Regina business in s6a, Belle seemed to be into Will sincerely and with no ulterior motives).

And it was Belle who handed over her baby to the Blue Fairy!!! I know it was just to make the idiotic backwards plot with Cloaked!Rumbaby vs Emma work out, but still…!!! It suggests a certain carelessness with her offspring to me (never mind sleeping-cursing herself+baby, or her plan to run away to the Enchanted Forest, not noted for its advanced medical care, even worse after all the Dark Curses), only a few steps above dumping them into the Magic Cyclone Adoption Center.

[msommers]

know, for bad, companions, and exit for riya, meredith and jorina!

here i am days late bc of my brain simply not working // oc asks: relationships edition

Know: How well does your OC know themself—their wants, their goals, their motivations? Do they engage in any sort of self-reflection? Is there anything about themself they willfully ignore?

RIYA — she would love to return to the days when the only self-reflection she took part in was looking into the mirror, because she's been looking inside quite often recently and is becoming increasingly aware of how much she was willing to ignore just to stay in her happy little bubble. she used to have very clear, simple desires and goals that drove her each day, and now she has no idea where she's going, how she should be feeling, or what to do about either of those things. she's in her "fucked around, found out. now i'm lost and hurting" era

MEREDITH — for being a big political player, she’s kind of an open book. her motivations and goals are clear, always have been and always will be. she has a solid grasp on who she is and hasn't had a reason yet to hide away any part of herself. even the grief and rage that still linger years down the line are things she never ignored, just turned into motivators.

JORINA — ignored many parts of herself for the better part of a decade just to ensure she was able to provide for her family without any distractions getting in the way. probably only started some soul-searching after the crush on aleksi developed because that kickstarted the "wait, do i actually have and want desires and interests outside of working???" thoughts. absolutely dreadful times for her, digging into her own brain like that. wouldn't recommend

For Bad: Is there anyone who had an undeniable negative impact on your OC’s life? How did your OC deal with that change? Have they been able to move on?

RIYA — victor’s murderer i guess lmfao nobody else has had a specifically negative impact on her, but that person really took an entire sledge hammer to her heart and life so congrats to them. hand wave to the vigilant campaign so far to answer how she’s handling the changes and moving on

MEREDITH — the obvious but still worth saying answer here is rendon howe. my guy left layers of lasting trauma and struggles with trust/rage/faith, things that meredith is still trying to handle a decade into the future. there's also a level of paranoia that he so kindly gifted her. i think she's moved on as far as one can after such horrid events, y'know. the vengeance was claimed, the healing was done, and the crippling sorrow only creeps in on rare occasions. something about her relationship with nathaniel definitely helped bandage some lingering wounds, but i'm not gonna dive down that rabbit hole rn.

JORINA — i mean. also rendon howe because of the alienage "purge", but that wasn't just the single offender. i've talked So Much about how jorina dealt with those changes (becoming the provider of the family, losing her childhood, ignoring her grief/desires/etc for years) so i'm not gonna do it again, but yikes. it took her a long time but she does begin to move on during her time with the inquisition! it's a horrible journey of having to finally let in the grief of all that she lost and shoved down for so long, but it's a necessary one.

Companions: Is your OC part of an adventuring group? A band of travelers? A guild, a team, a crew? What's the group dynamic, and how does your OC feel about their companions?

RIYA — your favorite no wisdom mage of the warden squad. riya’s currently in the middle of having some very mixed feelings about the grey warden order as a whole, but enjoys her little assigned group well enough for how much time she's had with them so far. despite my goofs about a certain dynamic within the group, i do think she likes them all. they are so far removed from the usual type of cast she'd have around her, but the circumstances are just right to allow for that kind of thing to not matter a single bit and to encourage her getting to know them. this would get annoyingly long if i went into detail about each member but i'll say her strongest feelings are for cian and leo, though undoubtedly that'll evolve given time with the other two members.

MEREDITH — oh, the origins crew. a handful of the people there knew they were only working together out of necessity, while she genuinely grew to adore and respect others. meredith wasn't afraid to show her judgement of those who argued her morals, acts of good, and main goals, which led to a few strained dynamics. too lazy to run down everybody, but: she would have banished oghren if he wasn't good at killing things. :// funniest positive relationship she built was with zevran because who would've thought the uncompromising honorable noble would take a liking to the whole assassin who tried to take her out?? insanity. this doubles as a note for myself but i need to revisit the game to determine meredith's dynamic with wynne, because since solidifying her character more i don't know if the strong focus on her noble rights/responsibilities would earn her approval lol

JORINA — hey i'm gonna keep it so real and say yeah, she was part of a specific inquisition scouting squad for a while, but nobody except aleksi has any detail at all. literally none of them. they're faceless goons just there to toss into situations for relationship moments. group dynamic is that everyone wanted to shake aleksi's hand for being the one brave enough to start befriending jorina first because it helped her ease off of being such a hardass with the stern expression and rigorous schedule.

Exit: Has your OC ever had someone important leave their life in a way that was unremarkable, unintentional, or clumsy? How do they feel about it? Is there any chance they'll meet again?

RIYA — i don’t think so, no. the closest could maybe fall to her brother, sebastian, in how he left the family home for the chantry (unremarkable in the way that they all knew it was coming, it wasn’t a big deal for anybody except daddy loren who would’ve still been upset about his kid lmao), but he would still show up on the rare occasion. riya hardly cared, he had turned into a preaching prat that really harshed the vibes every time he was around and she preferred her other brothers anyhow. they used to get along back when they were both directionless and envious of the other brothers, but that’s a hard feeling to remember after all he’s said to and about riya. always a chance of meeting again, i suppose 🤷

MEREDITH — someone important? ser gilmore might be the closest to this in the way that his death was unremarkable to most, he was just another unfortunate soul to die at the hands of howe's treachery (in a more personal way, she feels, after learning of his abduction and torture). she allowed herself the small hope that perhaps he’d made it out once she’d fled highever, but that became gnawing guilt after discovering his fate. their bond had been strong, and she'd spent so long picturing what it'd be like to have him at her side in the future, but then that future came and all she had left of him was feelings of heartache and longing. super not gonna see him again after what happened lol

JORINA — can’t think of anybody on this one. probably unnamed members of the inquisition who don’t matter to her story, just people who decided to dip because it got too difficult or frightening to be a part of that.

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Songstress of Skyrim - Chapter 5: Amalthea

Disclaimer: The following story is centered around my own character, Mhari Freysri, who is the only character in this piece that I own. All other characters and elements of the world within the Elder Scrolls series is the intellectual property of Bethesda. This story contains, not just massive spoilers, but is in and of itself one very long spoiler, as it is based off of my playthrough of Skyrim: Special Edition. You have been advised. Please enjoy this newest installment of my cringy fanfiction.

"No, no," Sybille sighed in frustration as she watched Mhari struggle with the ingredients in front of her, the aspiring bard fumbling with a hawk's egg and a needle, nearly pricking her finger in the process. "You need to grind the Hagraven's claws into a fine powder while simultaneously incorporating the contents of the hawk's egg. You cannot do it separately; it dilutes the magic."

"I only have two hands, ma'am," Mhari sighed in frustration, covered in residual ingredients from her previous attempts. She patted her robes with her gloves hands, a puff of grey powder clouding around her. "I don't know how I can hold the mortar firm, grind with the pestle, puncture the hawk's egg, and pour the egg's innards evenly - all at once, no less!"

"I'd do it for you," Sybille began. "But muting Daedric magic takes dedication, focus and a considerable amount of skill that is far beyond your current level. You need to know for yourself how to contain it's effects or you will be corrupted by their influence. It's simply inevitable, and I may not always be nearby to do it in your stead."

"And you're certain I can't simply wrap it in a leather sleeve?" Mhari asked. "Maybe silver? Silver has a dampening effect on Daedric magic, doesn't it?"

"A ridiculous myth spread by charlatans and swindlers preying on the fears of superstitious simpletons," Sybille scoffed. "Silver may boast an effectiveness on Draugr, and perhaps even werewolves; but it may as well be paper to a powerful Daedra. And you're dealing with the artifact of a Daedric Prince - that's about as potent as it gets."

"I know, I know," Mhari sighed, placing her hands on the surface of the alchemy table, slouching her shoulders with a discouraged shake of her head. "I'm not going to quit; if I'm going to keep the Wabbajack with me, I want to do so carefully. I just didn't think it'd be this difficult; I mean, I'm not completely new to alchemy and enchantments, but this is the first time since I was a child that I've felt like a true amateur."

"Well you are an amateur," Sybille shrugged, refusing to mince her words to save Mhari's feelings. "But this is how you get better. You learn, you challenge yourself, and you keep at it until you improve. No one said ever said the progress would be swift."

"It's been nearly a month!" Mhari exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

"A month is nothing!" Sybille rolled her eyes. "Learning to prepare alchemical ingredients of this caliber and mastering the enchantment required takes most mages years to master. Did you really think you were going to skip that learning curve in a day?"

Mhari sighed with a begrudging nod of agreement. She had come to Sybille three days after her return from the Pelagius Wing after being plagued with incessant nightmares of madness and paranoia every time she slept. The court wizard hadn't believed her at first when Mhari told her she'd received a Daedric artifact from Sheogorath himself, but after inspecting the Wabbajack carefully herself, she knew dampening the staff's powers would be best for not only Mhari, but Solitude. Ever since, Mhari had been meeting Sybille in her quarters at sunrise each day to fashion a proper wrapping to keep the Daedric magic from seeping outward from the Wabbjack.

"Perhaps we should call it a day," Sybille suggested. "We can try again tomorrow. Besides, I have things to do."

"Let me give this one more try. I think I have an idea," Mhari stretched her arms to the sky with a yawn and a sigh. "If that's okay?"

"Alright, once more; but don't expect a miracle."

Mhari placed a sheet of parchment paper across the surface of the alchemy table, much to Sybille's confusion. The wizard raised her eyebrow, but chose to watch to see what Mhari would do. Mhari summoned a weak flame spell in one hand, holding a candle near the flame, allowing the wax to pool on the paper, until she could create a solid, angled mount for the mortar. Unconventional, but that may give her one less thing to fumble with. Sybille thought to herself. But she still needs to get the overall mixture exactly right. If she mixes too vigorously, or pours too quickly - or not quick enough, the solution is ruined. She carefully measured the correct weight of Hagraven claws and dropped them into the mortar, starting to grind them firmly with one hand. She slipped the sharp pin between her teeth and, while carefully holding her hawk's egg, she used a the sharp end of the pin to puncture the bottom and allowed the drippings to slowly drain into the powdered claws as she stirred it carefully with the pestle, grinding the contents in a figure-eight motion, regarding her work with the utmost care and concentration. Finally, the hawk's egg stopped leaking, the mixture now taking on a smoky grey colour, smelling faintly of old eggs, musty moth balls, and burned deadwood.

Mhari raised her eyes to Sybille expectantly; the court wizard approached to inspect the final product and nodded approvingly.

"It's not the most elegant solution, but this will do." Sybille said finally, giving a dry smile of amusement at Mhari's shoulders dropping in exhaustion and relief. "Now you can coat the wisp wrappings with the mixture before we enchant them."

Mhari wasted no time and followed Sybille's instructions to the letter, finally placing the coated wrappings on the enchanting table at her left. She placed her hands in the focusing circles on either side, feeling her palms hum with her own magical energy. She began to speak:

"Egg of hawk - and wicked claws,

Silence the poison from Daedra's jaws.

Seep into these woven wisps,

Words like rivers - flow from my lips.

With this spell, the darkness bound,

In the Mad God's grasp, I'll not be found."

The blue glow of Mhari's magic flowed like smoke from Mhari's lips enveloping the wrappings, engulfing them with light. As the light seeped into the fabric and faded, the room grew still and quiet once more.

"You know," Sybille broke the silence. "Most enchantments are done wordlessly..."

"I've always had trouble with even the simplest enchantments," Mhari frowned sheepishly. "I haven't been able to enchant items any other way."

"Well, I commend you - regardless of your methods, Freysri. But you should bear something in mind."

"Yes?" Mhari gave mage a nod as she spoke.

"While successful, this enchanted wrapping is still...shoddy at best. Even though it will dampen the Daedric magic for a time, it's effects are finite; and if you remove this wrapping, the enchantment will be broken." Sybille watched Mhari as she carefully wrapped the Wabbajack in the moss-green wrapping. "When your nightmares of madness return, you'll know the enchantment is weakening. You'll need to do this all over again; and my supplies are limited."

"I understand," Mhari nodded grimly, holding the now-covered staff and sighing in relief at the overwhelming atmosphere of calm that surrounded her now that the magic had been silenced. "I'll keep honing my skills. Maybe someday I'll be able to cast an enchantment without having to use incantations."

"Well, your incantations are a little on the dramatic side," Sybille teased. Mhari shot her a playful, wordless squint in response. "Then again, bards do have a flair for the dramatic."

"I'm not an official bard yet," Mhari corrected. "I still have to find King Olaf's Lost Verse. Now that I've nearly saved up enough gold to buy a horse, it's starting to seem that I can get started soon."

"Well, be sure to allow yourself ample time for rest before you leave," Sybille warned. "You are clearly at your limit; it will take a few days of taking it easy before you're back to your full strength. Daedric power can be intoxicating, but it is notoriously draining; especially for those who are inexperienced in the arcane arts. Besides, you'll need your strength for Pinemoon Cave."

"What's in Pinemoon Cave?" Mhari asked curiously, carefully tucking the wrapped Wabbajack in the leather holder on the side of her pack.

"In a word? Vampires." Sybille spoke simply, not waiting for Mhari's reaction. "Bodies have been found nearby with every drop of blood drained from them. I suspect the vampires responsible have taken Pinemoon Cave as a den. This is what I will ask for as payment for my aid and supplies. It'll be up to you to clear them out."

"B-But I've never fought a vampire before," Mhari sputtered nervously. "I thought you'd just ask me to be your apprentice for a while or something; help you clean and assist your work."

"Being my apprentice wouldn't be payment," Sybille scoffed, amused at the notion. "It would be a privilege for you. I've granted you my time, patience, and many precious materials that will be difficult to replace. I think asking for something of equal value in return is perfectly reasonable."

"I understand." Mhari let out a resigned sigh. She's right. It's only fair. "I'll find a way to make it happen."

"Good." Sybilled nodded. "Now off you go, bard. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Before Mhari could protest, Sybille shooed her along, closing the door behind her. Mhari dragged her feet back to the inn and returned to her room. Not caring that it was only midday, she wriggled into the sheets of her bed and slipped into a blissfully-normal slumber.

Night had descended upon the city, and The Winking Skeever was bustling with patrons; sailors, guards, civilians and even nobles alike had gathered in smatterings throughout the inn, deep in their drinks and joviality. Mhari had taken a seat by Lisette and Jorn on the main floor, discussing their favourite songs and bards.

"So will you be performing with us tonight, Little Bird?" Lisette downed another horn of mead as she spoke, readying her lute expectantly. "It's a full house; lots of tips to be made with a rowdy bunch like this."

"As much as I'd love to," Mhari sighed. "I'm taking the night to spectate and relax. I'm looking forward to seeing what you two have in store tonight."

"Suit yourself!" Jorn chuckled, slamming his goblet back on the surface of the wood table with a satisfied gulp. "We won't let you off the hook next time!"

"Break a leg, you two." Mhari lifted her own mead horn with a smile as the two bards rose to their feet and took their place in the center of the room, making their final preparations before Lisette began plucking at the strings of her lute. Jorn nestled his drum under his arm, ready to begin. They began to sing in harmony, captivating every patron in attendance.

"This is why we're so proud of our bards in Solitude," a familiar voice spoke, breaking Mhari's focus. She smiled as Captain Aldis took a seat by her to watch Lisette and Jorn's performance, waving down Corpulus to order a drink. "Those two especially."

"Do you think they have any idea how sweet they look together?" Mhari whispered playfully.

"Not a chance," Aldis chuckled, handing Corpulus a handful of coin. "You know, I'm glad to see you looking well lately."

"Oh?" Mhari asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand."

"You've been looking tired lately; I thought maybe you were ill," Captain Aldis took his first sip of ale and bit into the meat of a roasted chicken leg. "Folks around the city have been asking about you."

"Well, I...haven't been sleeping well lately," Mhari worded her response carefully, uncertain as to whether or not she should tell others that she was in possession of a Daedric artifact. "But I'm feeling much better now. Another day or two of rest and I'll be right as rain."

"Glad to hear it. You're making quite a name for yourself around here; the people around here really seem to like you." Aldis held up his goblet with a smile. Mhari tapped the side of her own mead horn with his goblet with a sheepish chuckle, uncertain of how to respond. "You're becoming an upstanding citizen of Solitude."

"Thank you, Captain."

"If only my men could exhibit the same amount of dedication." Aldis sighed as he watched a table across the room, surrounded by a group of soldiers in training. Almost as if to amplify Captain Aldis' frustration, two of them started scrapping, nearly knocking the entire table over while the others cheered them on. "They're on rest at the moment, and they've been acting like a bunch of rambunctious hooligans ever since."

"I take it training has been slow, then?" Mhari tried not to burst out laughing.

"I've been thinking about asking the general for some training books. Give the soldiers something to do aside from-"

Mhari clapped a hand over her mouth as they watched one of the soldiers propping a piece of black fabric over his head like a wig, puffing out his chest, clearly doing a horrible impression of Captain Aldis with an exaggerated strut, the other soldiers chortling in response.

"I'm gladyoufind it amusing," Captain Aldis gave Mhari a playful shove at her poor attempt to regain her composure. "Have you ever heard of a book called 'The Mirror?'

Mhari shook her head in response.

"Well, we used to hand it out to boys looking to learn basic shield work," Captain Aldis explained. "I can't remember the last time I saw a copy, though."

"Hm. Well, I can't guarantee anything," Mhari finished off the last of her mead before she continued. "But if I come across a copy, I'd be happy to bring it to you"

"There's no pressure." Captain Aldis gave Mhari a firm pat on the shoulder. "But still; I appreciate the initiative."

Lisette and Jorn came to the end of the final verse of their, gazing at each other as if they were the only ones in the room. Mhari smiled giddily, leading the applause as they sang the final perfectly-harmonized notes; the entire inn cheered for the bards as they were brought back to reality. Lisette flushed and looked around to the audience, giving a bow; Jorn chuckled and followed suit before they launched into another song; entirely instrumental this time, stepping apart slightly.

"Well, I think I'll turn in for the night, my friend." Mhari yawned, reaching into her purse to leave some coins for her dinner. Captain Aldis motioned for her to stop, placing enough gold on the table for both of them. Mhari thanked the Captain before retreating to her room for the night.

Mhari was awakened four days later by a knock at the door of her room. She sat up with a yawn and swung her legs around over the edge of the bed and let out a croak. "Be right there."

She shuffled across the room and opened the door to see a smiling Corpulus waving an envelope in the air. "This came in for you this morning."

"Oh, thank you, Corpulus!" Mhari chirped giddily, taking the letter and handing him a few coins. "I'll be right down for breakfast; right after I've had a chance to read this."

She quickly shuffled over to the desk she'd spent the last few days at, sifting through books on the history of Skyrim and the study of basic alchemy. She ripped open the envelope and read it immediately before smiling and holding the letter to her chest with a contented sigh. Her heart ached for her family, missing them dearly, but she was elated to hear from her father and sisters, giving her the feeling of renewed confidence and motivation. "I need to keep moving forward. Maybe I should swing by Katla's Farm and offer to work with them until I've made enough to finally buy a horse; I'm already so close."

Dressing herself in linen work clothes, thick leather gloves, and winter boots with a fleece-lined overcoat, Mhari left the majority of her things locked away in the chest at the foot of her bed before making her way down the stairs to sit at the bar where Corpulus has set aside of plate of fish and fresh vegetables for Mhari. The innkeeper was busy attending to other patrons, so Mhari scarfed down the meal gratefully and left her payment on the counter before making her way out the door and into the chilly Solitude air.

Mhari trudged down the path away from the city gates and waved at the carriage driver as she passed by him. "Good morning, Thaer." He waved politely in response before returning to grooming his horses as he whistled a tune. She continued along the path and approached Katla as she swept the stoop of her farmhouse.

"Good morning, Katla," Mhari greeted with a friendly smile. "My name's Mhari Freysri; I was just wondering if you needed any help around your farm. I'm a little short on coin."

"We could always use help picking crops if you need a few extra coins," Katla barely looked up from her task as she responded to Mhari's offer. "Not much left to do today, but if you want to pick what's left, I'll pay you for your time. After that, you can feel free to ask Geimund if he needs a hand with the livestock."

"Thank you! I'll get started right away, ma'am."

Mhari rolled up her sleeves and trudged around the wooden fence to the only plot on the farm that hadn't been tended to and picked up a nearby harvesting basket. She inspected the green leaves of the leeks in the plot, noting their vibrant gradient from emerald to almost eggshell white. Mhari thought of all the delicious soups and garnishes she could make from them, finding herself growing hungry at the thought. The stalks of these leeks look to be a little more than an inch in diameter...they should be ready. Mhari thought quietly to herself as she slowly dropped to her knees, she began to firmly pull the leeks from the ground, carefully shaking off the soil from the roots before gently pruning the them away with her sheers. Working the soil like this really reminds me of home. She smiled at the thought while she tucked each set away in the basket until it was nearly overflowing.

She hoisted the basket on the crook of her hip, using the back of her wrist to wipe away the droplets of sweat from her brow, making her way back to Katla, who busied herself with fixing a piece of the fencing around the chicken coop.

"Where would you like me to put your leeks, ma'am?" Mhari asked.

"Hm?" Katla turned her attention to the full basket and gave a curt nod. "Oh, good. Just put them on at the top of the stairs by the farmhouse - I'll bring them in with me when I'm finished here. Why don't you go ahead and take a leek or two for yourself?"

"Yes'm."

Katla placed a small handful of gold in Mhari's hands before returning to her task without another word. Mhari tucked a leek in her satchel and started to make her way to Geimund as he leaned against his usual spot by the farmhand's housing, chewing on a piece of wheat, eyes to the horizon beyond the farm.

"Good afternoon, Geimund." Mhari greeted, reaching for her purse. "I'd like to talk to you about your horses."

"Ah, of course." Geimund replied before his eyes moved to something behind Mhari. He began to chuckle. "Looks like one of 'em wants to talk to you as well."

Mhari looked over her shoulder to see a golden palomino mare with a soft blonde mane sniffing at the tufts of green poking out from her satchel, attempting to nibble at them discreetly - and failing. Mhari let out an amused giggle and started to pull one of the leeks from her pouch to offer it to the mare before Geimund spoke up.

"You don't want to give her that. Leeks and onions are toxic for horses, you know."

"Oh!" Mhari quickly stuffed the leeks into her satchel, covering it with her hands as the mare's ears flattened backward. She trotted back to the stables with a huff. "Thank you for telling me. I-I didn't realize; I thought horses could eat basically most of the same plants that we do."

"And you want to buy a horse..." the farmhand shook his head, slightly irritated. "All that gold'll be wasted if you poison your house in the first week. That and I don't like the idea of selling one of our own to someone who doesn't know how to care for 'em."

Mhari didn't know how to respond as she winced sheepishly with a nod of embarrassed understanding. "I can't say I disagree...but Idowant to learn."

"I'll make you a deal, then." Geimund began. "You come work the stables with me every day for the next while. You help me with the daily chores and I'll teach you what you need to know in return. If your work's to my satisfaction, I may even give you a deal on one of our horses."

"Done!" Mhari practically jumped at the notion. "When can I start?"

"You can start right now if you've got the energy." Geimund shrugged casually. "What did you say your name was?"

"Mhari."

"Alright then, Mhari; follow me. I'll introduce you to your teachers for the next while," Giemund started to lead Mhari to the stables where two Palomino mares munched on their respective hay piles. The farmhand patted the withers of the mare Mhari had yet to meet. "This is Wynn; she's our oldest at twelve years old. Lazy, but she'll do any work you set her on if you keep her fed."

Mhari giggled as the other mare from before bumped her arm with her nose with a puff.

"Ah, and this one you've already met. We haven't named her yet; we just got her off a travelling merchant who wanted to buy our milking goats." Geimund pulled a handful of oats from his pouch and offered them to the curious mare. "She's still quite young. Maybe five years old; not very well-trained, as you can tell by her manners."

"I think she's sweet." Mhari cooed, running her hand down the side of the mare's neck. "It's a shame you haven't named her yet."

"We'll leave that up to whoever buys her; we're not looking to keep two horses long-term."

"So, I know leeks and onions are a bad idea, now," Mhari started. "Aside from hay, what else would be safe to feed to my horse?"

"They usually do fine on their own as long as they have plenty of grass and hay to graze," Geimund began, motioning to Wynn as she continued to happily munch on the hay pile, completely ignoring them. "But if you want to treat them, you can't go wrong with a carrot or a turnip. This young mare has a love for apples, though. We'll go over feeding in finer detail later; for now, let's go over some basic care."

"Oh, so how to get them all saddled up?" Mhari asked excitedly.

"No, that comes later. " Geimund let out a whistle to Wynn, who strode lazily to his side expectantly. "I'm going to go over some grooming tips first. I want you to follow along with what I'm doing on the other mare."

Mhari nodded in understanding, watching Geimund pick up two pieces of smooth rope; each about ten feet in length. He handed Mhari one of them as he spoke, slowly but expertly fashioning a halter for Wynn before creating a series of loops around the hitching post. Mhari tried her best to follow along, but she couldn't help but feel incredibly clumsy in her attempt to follow along.

"Not bad, but it's a little too tight around her nose, see?" Geimund inspected her work and corrected her. He showed Mhari the taught rope by the mare's nose and adjusted it easily. "You want to be able to slip your thumb underneath; easy way to make sure it's not too tight."

"This is an interesting-looking knot, but why can't I just tie my horse to the hitch with a regular knot?" Mhari asked as Geimund motioned for her to her undo the knot so that she could attempt the roper halter a couple more times. "Surely it'd be faster."

"Faster to tie them to the hitch, sure; but painfully slow to release if you need to get her free in a hurry." Geimind watched Mhari continue to practice. "This is called a quick-release knot. Makes sure that your horse can pull on her end of the rope without breaking free, but if you grab onto the other end of the rope, it's unravel with one swift pull."

Mhari nodded in understanding, continuing to practice her knots. After half a dozen tries, she felt herself getting quicker and more efficient, if still a little clumsy.

"It's good you're starting to get the hand of this." Geimund encouraged Mhari. "You'll be tying this halter to your horse often; useful from grooming and such, too."

Once Mhari had once again hitched the mare, Geimund walked into the stable for a moment only to return with a small wooden crate filled with supplies. He started using a series of brushes on Wynn; Mhari looked on in confusion.

"Why are you using so many brushes?" Mhari asked, raising an eyebrow. "Can't you just use the one?"

"They each have a different purpose." Geimund didn't take his eyes off his grooming as he spoke. "The first brush helps loosen the dirt and mud, the second brushes all that dirt away."

"And the third?" Mhari asked. "Is this one for the mane and tail?"

"It's softer for the more sensitive areas; like the legs, the face..." Geimund continued. "As for the mane and tail, you'll only need to do that every few weeks or so."

"How often should I be grooming my horse like this?" Mhari started to follow along with Geimund's actions, moving the hard-bristled brush along the mare's shoulders in a circular motion.

"You'll want to give her a quick brushing every time you're about to saddle her up." Geimund and Mhari moved onto the next brush. "This gives you a chance to look her over and check for any areas that may be bothering her; and it's not good to have all this dirt and muck underneath all that equipment. You wouldn't want to put on armour if you were covered in mud and sand, would you?"

Mhari chuckled and nodded in agreement. She and Geimund finished brushing their horses, tossing the brushes back in the crate. Mhari gave her mare a gentle stroke down her nose. "Alright, what's next?"

"Next, we check their hooves. Give them a quick lookover and clean 'em up." Geimund moved to stand beside his horse's leg. "Make sure you stand beside their legs, not in front of 'em or-"

As Mhari moved to one of her mare's hind legs, she was blown back with a swift kick in the stomach. She keeled over, holding her gut with a pained gasp of both shock and winded pain.

"Whoa, you alright?" Geimund jogged over to her side and helped her rise to her feet. Mhari nodded with a wry smile, still trying to catch her breath. "As I was saying, don't stand in front or behind their legs if you can avoid it. At least keep a hand on them as you move around them to let them know where you are. A spooked horse is a dangerous horse."

"Noted," Mhari gasped, hobbling over to a nearby haybale and taking a seat with a wince. "Just give me a moment to catch my breath."

"Take your time." Geimund nodded, returning to his horse. "You can watch me with this next part, but I want you to give it a try before we finish up here for the day."

Mhari nodded, watching as Geimund moved his hand down the side of the horse from elbow to cannon, seeming to lift the horse's hoof upward with ease. Using a wooden-handled hoof pick, Geimund removed the dirt and mud from the bottom of Wynn's hooves one-by-one, keeping a firm hand on her as he moved from leg-to-leg.

"Cleaning their hooves is very important," Geimund continued his lesson as he finished the last hoof. "Last thing you want is for your horse to end up with an infection. Ready to give it a go?"

"I think so." Mhari took a deep breath, her stomach still aching. "That's one mistake I won't be making again, I'll assure you of that."

Mhari approached the mare from the side, reaching out to gently pat the side of her neck, moving her arm down the side of her leg as Geimund had done for Wynn. "When your hand reaches around their ankle, give a gentle squeeze with your fingers."

Mhari obeyed, and was pleasantly surprised when the mare slowly lifted her hoof for Mhari to inspect; she whipped her head up and flashed a toothy grin at Geimund before she used the pick to remove the dirt and manure from the horse's hoof before continuing on to the next leg without any further incidents.

"Good!" Geimund gave a nod of approval and lead Wynn back to the stable, slipping her a carrot and motioning for Mhari to do the same. He eyed the skies as the sun began to set over the docks. "That'll be all for today. If you come back tomorrow and help us out around the farm for the morning, we'll go over grooming and routine care once more. Then we can go over tack - maybe do some riding if I think you're ready."

"Yessir!" Mhari pulled the quick-release knot loose and walked the mare to her stall before feeding her another apple and giving her a firm pat. "I'll see you tomorrow, girl. I'm sorry I spooked you earlier; I promise I learned my lesson."

Mhari walked up the path to Solitude to rest for the night, her body aching from a day of farmwork. The Winking Skeever was nearly empty tonight, so she decided to simply enjoy a meal and pay for her room with a portion of what she'd earned today before slipping away to her room. She lifted the fabric of her linen tunic to inspect her stomach to see a large purple bruise where she had been kicked. Hm. My magic won't make this go away entirely, but I should be able to give myself at least some relief. Mhari rested her palms on the bare skin of her midriff and summoned her mana, feeling the tingling warmth reverberate in her stomach as some of her soreness faded. The bruising, still present, was slightly lighter, but still an intense shade of indigo that Mhari new would take a couple weeks to fade entirely, even with her weaker spells. She used the washbasin to give herself a quick wash before curling up in her bed and slipping off into sleep.

Mhari whistled a tune to herself as she sat atop the fence overlooking the docks beyond Katla's Farm, allowing herself a break from her duties. It had been four days since her first lesson with Geimund, and she had learned much; they'd worked on walking the mare on a lead, and teaching her to come and stay when directed. Now that she'd gotten the hang of daily grooming and feeding, she'd been mostly helping around the animals; mucking out the stables, ensuring there was plenty of hay for the horses, practicing her knotwork, and how to tack up her horse. She was still slow, but she felt far more comfortable than she had when she'd first arrived at the farm.

"Alright then, Mhari," Geimund called from where he stood by the chicken coop. "I think it's time you learn the basics of riding."

Mhari practically toppled over at this announcement. "Really?!"

"Yep. I'll give you a bit to get her ready and tack up. Don't cut any corners, now. I know you're excited, but-,"

"Anything worth doing is worth being done right," Mhari finished his sentence, having heard him use this line many times throughout the past few days. "I understand."

Geimund watched Mhari as she tied the mare to the hitching post and started her daily grooming, nodding in approval. Good, she's getting much more efficient. Mhari draped the saddle rug over the mare's back, adjusting it accordingly before placing the saddle atop her back, fastening the girth and checking it's positioning to ensure it wasn't hindering the horse's movement. Mhari slid the bit into the mare's mouth and adjusted the bridle carefully, using her fingers to gauge the tightness before giving her steed a gentle stroke down the side of her neck. Once she'd adjusted her stirrups, she looked over her work and turned to Geimund expectantly.

"Good." Geimund took one last look at Mhari's tack and made a few minor adjustments as she took note of her errors. "Let's mount."

Geimund watched Mhari expectantly as she slipped a toe into the stirrup, and started chuckling as the mare slowly started walking away, leaving Mhari to hop frantically beside her. Gently taking hold of the reins, he brought the mare to a halt and instructed her.

"It's easier if you walk up beside her front leg and turn the stirrup to you," Geimuind turned the stirrup for her in a different position and motioned for her to put her foot in. "Good, now just hop around until you're facing the saddle."

Mhari followed his instructions, feeling a little silly hopping about, but the mare seemed to be staying put, so she didn't want to question his advice.

"One hand on the saddle horn, one to grab a bit of her mane, there," Geimund placed her hands where they needed to be and stepped back. "Now, pull yourself up and lean forward."

Mhari did a couple of bounces before heaving herself upward, nearly losing her balance in the process. She chuckles nervously, but awaited further instruction.

"Now, you're gonna swing your leg over to the other side of her. Try to keep your leg bent while you do; it'll help keep you from kicking her behind when you do. And keep your weight in the front." Geimund watched Mhari swing her leg over and settle into the saddle with a sigh of relief and excitement. "Not bad! That'll get easier as you go."

"This is so exciting!" Mhari couldn't help but let out a squeak of delight. The mare's ears flattened backward as she balked slightly in irritation. Mhari soothed her with a pet, softening her voice as she continued to speak. "Oh, sorry, girl."

"Any horse you ride is going to be a little different; the more you work with them and ride them, the better you'll get to know them. But for now, let's teach you some of the basics of riding," Geimund suggested, mounting Wynn with the ease of a seasoned rider. "I'll get you to follow me along the path up to Solitude and back. To signal your horse to start moving forward, just give a little kick with your heel to her sides."

Mhari obeyed, giving a timid click of her heels, but her mare didn't respond. Geimund and Wynn had started moving past her. Mhari gave another kick, a little firmer this time with two loud clicks of her tongue and sure enough, the mare started sauntering after Geimund.

"Good!" Geimund called back. "We're going to turn left to head up the path. If you're turning left, you want you pull your reins to the left, and you can guess the rest for the right."

Riding felt so much easier than everything that had lead up to it; Mhari smiled to herself as she followed Geimund, heeding his tips and instructions as they approached the gates of Solitude before turning back and returning to the farm. Geimund motioned for Mhari to dismount and told her get the mare ready for grooming. Mhari hopped down to the ground and fed the mare a carrot, patting her and giving her soft words of affirmation before she began removing and putting away her tack. While not yet sunset, the day was getting late and the temperatures were dropping slowly. Mhari tied the mare to the hitching post and gave her a light grooming, chatting Geimund about horses and useful tips about riding. She was turning to put away the soft brush when the mare balked and nearly knocked Mhari over with her erratic movement. Unlike the previous time she had been spooked by Mhari's actions, she did not immediately calm down, but rather stomped restlessly on the spot, giving light tugs to her halter and rope.

Mhari and Geimund made eye contact, confused at her reaction, turning their gazes to Wynn, who had stopped grazing, lifting her head with her ears turning to focus her hearing on their surroundings. Geimund scanned the area, but found no danger nearby, and decided to let it go. Wynn had eased back into her grazing, but the young mare still shifted nervously where she stood. Mhari frowned, sitting atop the square hay heap nearby, hoping her presence may help calm nerves. As the sun began to sink beyond the white sails of the docked boats beyond, Wynn had fallen asleep and Geimund was ready to turn in for the night. He bid Mhari goodnight and reminded her to ensure the stables were secured before she headed back up to the inn.

After a little scan of the area, Mhari stretched and prepared to leave the farm when the young mare let out a frantic puff, nipping at the material of her shirt's hem. Mhari pet her nose gently and tried to hush her. "Easy, girl. I'll be back tomorrow. You'll be alright."

As Mhari looked at her, she couldn't help but noticed a panicked flicker in the horse's eyes that she hadn't seen before. A knot formed in her stomach; the kind of knot she always got before something particular bad was about to happen. Nothing appeared to be nearby, but something felt...wrong. She couldn't bring herself to leave, so she spread out a spare bed-roll from the tack room beside the mare's stall and settled there. "I'll just wait here a little while longer until you can rest; or at least until my stomach stops doing backflips."

The night was still; more so than Mhari had grown accustomed to since she'd arrived. No birds could be heard, nor could the crickets, which made Mhari feel even more on edge. I can always hear the crickets this time of night. I can tell something's not right...

As the hour grew later, Mhari's eyes grew heavier and heavier until she'd drifted off.

Mhari awoke with a start, noticing the increased sense of unrest among Wynn and her mare; even the goats and chickens seemed on edge. Mhari rose to her feet, throwing her bow onto her back, hoping she'd be ready for anything that arose. In the bushes just beyond the farm came the sound of rustling and heavy footsteps. Mhari released her mare's knot, keeping a steady hand on the makeshift halter and bridle to keep her from bolting, but ready to release her if needed. She stopped and tried to be as still as possible, focusing her eyes on the brush where the noises were coming from, closing in on their position. Mhari's stomach sank with a feeling of dread as, from the bushes, a massive cave bear emerged. She almost ran off herself before she realized it's eyes were glazed over, seemingly at least partially blind. To Mhari's horror, from it's jaws, she could see foam dripping as it salivated, no doubt smelling the buffet of fresh meat in front of it.

If I let that bear come any closer, every single one of these animals is as good as dead. Mhari thought to herself before coming to another realization. Me included.

Without thinking, Mhari hitched a foot onto the edge of the fence at her side and hopped onto her mare's back and quietly as possible, motioning for her to start moving towards the gates of the farm. Taking a deep breath, she let out a sharp whistle, both grateful and terrified to have caught the rabid bear's attention. Without a moment's hesitation, the ferocious creature came barreling towards her. She gave her horse a quick kick and they took off down the path and beyond the trees, the bear not far behind. I need to lead it away from the area in case this goes wrong. Mhari rode frantically throughout the trees until she decided they'd made it far enough. Attempting to keep her balance on the mare with only her leg-strength, she prepared her bow and knocked an arrow, twisting her body to the left to lead her steed to veer to the side.

Mhari took a deep breath in and drew her arrow backward as the bear continued to charge them. With a slow release of her breath, she let the arrow fly, as it landed square in the bear's eye. To her horror, the bear merely let out a pained and furious snarl before continuing to rush in her direction. Mhari frantically attempted to knock an arrow, but a second arrow flew through the air from beyond the trees, finding it's target where the bear's lungs were. The bear fell to the ground instantly, landing at last at the mare's hooves, it's final breath escaping it's lungs with a low growl.

"Are you alright?" a guard from Solitude jogged up to inspect the bear, imperial bow still in hand.

"Yessir." Mhari let out a sigh of relief, hopping off of her mare's back to calm her as best she could. "Thank you for helping me take this bear down. I thought we were goners for a moment, there."

Without a word, the guard tucked his bow away and started heading back to his post, Mhari following not far behind him. When she'd made it halfway to the farm, Geimund came a riding on Wynn, still in his night linens.

"Mhari!" he called. "What the hell happened? I heard a bunch of commotion and by the time I got outside, you and the young'n were nowhere to be seen!"

"I'm sorry, Geimund!" Mhari tried to explain, panicked at how this might look. "I promise I didn't just ride off with her for no reason; there was a rabid cave bear trudging around the farm. We managed to lead it away before a guard helped us take it down."

"Rabid cave bear?" Geimund's eyebrows raised in surprise. "No wonder she was so on-edge. Damn thing's probably been skulking around the area all day."

"Well, it won't be doing much in the way of skulking now." Mhari frowned. She and Geimund rode back to the farm in silence, Mhari's tiredness setting in now that she'd had a chance to ease her pounding heart.

Mhari decided to curl up in the bedroll by the stables for the rest of the night, the sound of crickets slowly returning to the midnight air, lulling her to sleep.

The next morning, things on the farm had settled back to normal. Mhari groomed the mare, any remaining tension from the previous night's excitement seeming to have passed. Mhari groomed her main and tail with a few scattered braids and fed her plenty of apples for her courage with outrunning the cave bear. She'd even taken some time to whittle down a piece of wood into a bead with a horseshoe design on the side, weaving it into one of the mare's braids.

"Mhari!" Geimund called out from his usual spot. Mhari approached him and waited for further instruction. "I've come to a decision."

"A decision...?" Mhari was momentarily confused before she realized what he was referring to. "Oh! A decision!"

"You're ready," he said finally. "You still have much to learn, and you're far from an experienced rider, but you'd got the basics down. That and you'd already learned to read her and listen to her. That's a skill even some long-time horse-owners I know never really developed."

"Really?!" Mhari squeaked. "How much do you want for her?"

"How much have you saved up so far?"

"Er..." Mhari pulled out her coin purse and quickly counted what she'd collected. "1200 septims."

"Tell you what," Geimund thought for a moment. "Pay me 1000 gold pieces. I'll throw in some extra gear as a personal gift."

"Done!" Mhari practically pounced at the offer, quickly handing him the gold he requested. "Thank you so much!"

"My pleasure. You were a good student; clumsy, but good." Geimund teased her, but Mhari was too elated to respond with anything other than an excited wiggle. "Have you given any thought to what you're going to name her?"

"Amalthea," Mhari didn't miss a beat, having decided on the name shortly after her first encounter with the spunky young mare.

"That didn't take you long at all," Geimund chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "What made you choose that name?"

"I don't recall exactly what the story was..." Mhari reminisced for a moment as she spoke. "But I remember hearing that name in some old bedtime stories my parents used to tell me and my sisters when we were little. I don't know, it just feels right to me, you know?"

"Suppose that's as good a reason as any," Geimund have a shrug and a smile at her answer before disappearing into the tack room, returning with saddle bags and various extra pieces for Amalthea's gear. "Here; if you ever plan on travelling, you'll want to take these along with you. Might help you keep a balanced load on her. Oh, and you can feel free to keep her boarded here for now if you're willing to swing by and help us out from time to time."

"That's the least I can do," Mhari chuckled, preparing Amalthea fir their first ride as partners. "I'll be back soon; I just wanted to go celebrate with a ride that doesn't include being chased by a bear."

Geimund gave a chortle and a nod, motioning to the gate with his arm as if to shoo her along. Mhari finished the last touches to her tack before bolting off down the path, riding through the trees of the forest, her heart pounding in her chest, ready to take on the next challenge alongside her new companion.

~To Be Continued...

Note From the Author: Thank you again for reading the latest chapter of Songstress of Skyrim! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider following this story and dropping a review below. I'd love to hear what my readers think; what their favourite parts were, what they'd like to see more of, etc. If I receive any questions, I am happy to either answer them via private message, or even as a short QA section in the next chapter. I hope to see you in the next chapter, dear reader.

~Voth Werid

[theworldwalkerswols]

Yes, well said! Thank you for stating the piece about the soul recycling being dependent upon and inextricable from the memory washing, and that this reconstructed cycle prevents souls from entering the real afterlife the system is built to replicate.

You also make an excellent point about how the Endless aren’t actually themselves, they’re projections reconstructed from the memories of the people they were. This made me recall another moment that really impacted me from DT MSQ: namely the moment that - I think it was Cahciua - openly said something along the lines of ‘We can never know what the real Sphene would have done.’

Sphene herself is a projection reconstructed from the living Queen Sphene’s memories, but not just that: she also had protocols installed. She is incapable of human reasoning and morality in all its infinite shades of grey because there are underlying protocols that dictate her actions and decisions.

In that moment, I strongly recalled and connected DT to what my stance on AI wholesale has boiled down to:

You cannot, and it is imperative we do not, send a machine to do the work of a Humanities Major.

I truly believe this.

As it applies to Sphene, she is incapable of taking input on the situations faced by the Alexandrians and how their plight interacts with and impacts the plights of others and the star as a whole, because she must obey the protocols and coding that make her what she is. No matter how advanced they become, no machine will ever match the complexities of the human brain and lived experience. (Again, this is a part of my personal core values; I love a good the-robots-learn-to-feel sci-fi as much as the next soppy queer!)

I would also like to acknowledge that there have been a lot of folks saying they don’t believe the soul is consumed or unmade in the process of resurrection-via-regulator. I don’t necessarily disagree! I am unsure of the specific mechanics because it’s never explicitly stated. However,

The narrative establishes that there are multiple uses for souls. It is unclear how or when any given soul is “consumed” or unmade, but I do believe it is possible.

The final battle with Zoraal Ja shows him overloading himself with souls. This kind of use or action is the sort of situation that I would interpret as those souls being “spent” or consumed utterly. The visuals of this made me think of him as literally burning them for power.

Regardless of the specifics, the narrative does establish souls as a finite resource, or at least one of diminishing returns, because of the mentions of raiding other shards for their souls, as we see enacted in Tuliyoall. I think there was even reference to there being fewer soul cells available than they had storage for at some point but I have only played DT once, so I’m not certain.

Others have mentioned these diminishing returns might also have to do with falling birthrates and the paralyzing sickness we see while touring Alexandria with Sphene - an excellent point!

However, one of the most telling instances of souls as a finite resource is much more mundane: resource hoarding. Some of the participating citizens of Alexandria have become so dependent upon the reassurance of having at least one spare soul, maybe more depending on their line of work or level of paranoia, that we see citizens who are wracked with anxiety when they are running low. They are desperate for the comfort and security of having extra chances at life in their back pocket, as it were, and that ties up more and more souls in the system, leaving them unavailable for others, and brings us back to souls as a finite currency.

And with that,

Thank you everyone for reading!

I love chewing on the implications of things, especially of narratives as rich, complex, and grey as this one. I’m surprised how far my first addition to this post has circulated, and I thank everyone who has added tags! I love seeing and reading what other people’s conclusions are, including ones that contradict with mine. I often think that interpretation is improperly taught in (US American) school systems; all interpretations are valid if they are made in good faith and engage with the text. If you’ve found evidence for the thing in the source material, it’s valid! It opens up whole worlds of possibilities and we don’t have to agree on every point for our takeaways to be valid ✌️

Have fun fellow beloved nerds, thank you for joining me in meta corner ✌️💕

i know that solution 9 representing imperialism is The Point but it really is something to get hit with a weepy "the war was so hard on us, we needed unobtanium just to survive complete climate collapse and everyone burned each other down for it" after a tour through the Mall of America and seeing that the unobtanium that the world burned itself down for in a desperate bid for survival is being used to produce self-heating coffee cups and disneyland retirement village for dead grandma. they have an amazon warehouse full of souls they keep in kcup pods that they hand out in a state-sponsored work program.

"i guess we just have to respect their cultural differences 🙂" girl they figured out how to burn a soul up like the Go Faster button in fast & furious movies. one of the 17 year olds they have fighting in the thunderdome just huffed your mom's soul like a whippet on pay-per-view and he's going to do that 9 times a week until he gets victorian coughing baby disease and dies. you don't have to be ok with that. this place sucks

[standtogether2020]

FEAR

Fear haunts you always, the goal is to overcome what you can.

Fear is also only one word in a level system, starting with anxiety.

Anxiety is a derivative of fear and though the list may be in the wrong order, I believe this is where it starts. From worry to anxiety then the signs of being scared into panic then full paranoia switching over to outright fear evolving into terror and finally paralyzation.

This chain of the brain's processing system can be a hindrance to anyone and maybe even everyone if you are willing to show it. I feel that everyone has a weakness to fear in some way shape form or another. The problem is not the fact of knowing this chemical process of the brain exists but knowing what level matches what situation for it is different for all. I have been working with one of my wonderful ladies through her anxiety for a few years now. I'm surprised I did not think of this as a topic sooner. After one of her recent surgeries, her anxiety got really bad on certain things. I will leave it at that as it is up to her as an individual adult to share her medical records, though I am proud of the support groups she has been a part of. I may have logic but I lack experience where these support groups have the experience. So a quick thank you to the people for helping her where I lack first-hand knowledge. On the logical side of things though this is the advice I spoke to ease her mind...

I get that anxiety is a real thing and it may not be something to completely overcome. It will always be a part of our life. It is our brain's natural safeguard to protect us from bad situations or dangerous circumstances. Although you can not let it rule you. The brain may do the auto-calculating for us on the matter of what is scary, but now and again we have to manually calibrate a new list with reason and logic to decide if something is worth the fear or not. If you listen to your auto fears constantly you will always live in a shell and be branded as a coward and knowing today's society many other words can attack the mind a lot worse. But by adding bravery and courage you will have the strength to face it instead of running from it.

This was not quite understood right away so I came up with some scenarios to help comprehension. for instance...

Every time I personally go on a walk I wonder when I will fall into a manhole I didn't know was open for sewer line repairs I was unaware of, or every time I cross the road will be the time I get hit by a car, truck, or bus. Who knows, keep in mind if these are confusing,... I AM BLIND haha... others were in the police force. How many times do they walk into a gas station robbery wondering if they tell a young adult to put the stolen item back and do it simple as that or tell them to put the item back just to receive staring down the barrel of a 45. Or will speeders pull over right away or cause a ten-mile pursuit through high traffic, red lights, construction zones, or mall plazas how many casualties will happen. Or to go deeper a military soldier walking across the desert wondering when the next step will be when they hear a heavy click and realize they can no longer move or sudden death due to the pressure mine they now stand on. Thinking how long they will last before they get tired of standing and fall or get shot down due to being stuck in the open. Maybe even the thought of someone on their bomb squad making it to them in time to defuse it or the thoughts of the bomb specialist what if this mine is wired differently. which wire will release it, and which one will make us both go.

All of these people are brave and courageous because even though these fears are deeply rooted they still go out there and do what they're trained for because they all have one goal in mind. For the good of our country and the protection of our people. When my woman was four blocks down having an asthma attack it was up to me to grab the rescue inhaler and blindly book it at high speed on foot. I did not care what obstacle got in my way. I would be there for my woman when she needed me or I would die trying.

I hope this can help others with anxiety or those in fear of something. Understanding fear will always be in our lives but I hope this can help the processing of anxiety ... even just a little better

--- Eli Mackay Ramirez

[m-blackwell-and-associates]

The Meeting pt 2

Nicky did not turn around at the slow disdainful drawl and it’s call to a fight. Flicking ash into a puddle at his feet, “Then it’s a good thing I don’t fucking care what you like.”

“Some fucking balls on you, Nicky.” The speaker laughed, his belligerent demeanor fading away.

Nicky heard the man step wide around the bench, leaves barely crackling under his feet as he came into view several arm lengths away. A gesture of good faith. A promise of truce. He was dressed for rough living, worn clothes were clean but patched, his aged leather jacket discolored by scratches. The fox red of his hair and beard burned under the struggling street lights, the only bit of flash on him. That bit of fire was all that prevented the figure from fading completely into the wilderness behind him.

“Monster.” Nicky stood, holding out a hand. Without hesitation, the Gangrel shook it firmly.

“Never thought I’d see your ugly mug in Chicago again. When the snake said you wanted to talk, I for sure thought he was lyin’.”

“Had planned on never coming back. Sadly, plans changed.”

There was a sudden rustling in the darkened wood beyond the sulfur glow of the lamp. Monster raised his chin, whistling a sharp cadence through his teeth. There was a pause of halted movement, before the crackling of the undergrowth changed direction and moved away.

“Back up?” Nicky asked, not surprised in the least. A certain level of paranoia was necessary to survive this city. More so if one was Gangrel.

“Clan.” The Gangrel clarified, cocking his head. His blue eyes shone with an uncomfortably feral light. “You’re not the type to have old friends.”

“You might hurt my feelings, Monster.” Nicky sat back down on the bench. It was a deliberate gesture. Just two old friends talking. “I thought I always dealt fairly with you.”

“You did right by me and mine every time we crossed,” the other Kindred confirmed, crouching where he was on the crumbling path, a strangely animalistic pose. “But that don’t mean one day your business takes you somewhat else.”

“Fair. In the interest of old dealings, you’re not on my agenda now or in the foreseeable future.” It was true. It wasn’t often that business demanded dealings with the Gangrel. It had always been profitable. If they stuck around long enough.

Monster’s eyes narrowed, lip curling back. “Is that a favor?”

“You could consider it a bonus. If you like.” Nicky lifted the cigarette to his lips. Wouldn’t inconvenience him to be generous at the outset. Having someone in the city he could work with would make his stay easier in the long run. “I expected Sybs to send me a Nos and am pleasantly surprised.”

“No one likes working with sewer rats.” Monster bared his teeth in a snarl, fangs prominent. “There wasn’t anyone they didn’t sell up the chain.”

“Chicago has never liked the Gangrel. Since Loden, anyway. Can’t pin that on the Nosferatu.”

“Eh, Caleb wasn’t so bad a guy for being a ponce Tory. Too bad he was replaced with another Ventrue, and I ain’t never met a Ventrue I didn’t want to eat. Don’t know how they keep becoming prince.” Monster looked away for a moment, staring down the path thinking. “But I meant what I said. Fucking sewer rats live on secrets, but they only ever had one buyer. Weren’t just us the rats were selling out and everyone was getting tired of it. Lot of licks didn’t survive that night your kin and the Ventrue came to blows. Lots of opportunity taken, if you catch my drift.”

Nicky nodded, remembering perfectly how the battle lines had been drawn before he left the city with his prize. He had no reason to think alliances had shifted at all by the time the Ventrue had killed his great-niece and burned themselves out of power with their overreach. When a prince fell, there was always some collateral vengeance. “Last time I came through town, the Brujah had a working relationship with my family. I didn’t expect them to take up the Ventrue grudge when they filled the power vacuum.”

“Yeah.” Monster scratched his head furiously, tangling his ruddy hair into knots. “They liked you all fine. At first. But then that new guy came and with him your cousins up north. Not a lot of smarts in that lot.”

“What’d they do that got Jon so riled up?”Nicky could think of a dozen things Vincenzo might have done to rile up anyone that he came in contact with. He was generally more circumspect with princes, though. Vincenzo liked having friends in power.

“Remember a Brujah named Dana Stone?”

“I do. She was a big name in Chicago for quite a while. Big name in a couple of time zones, if I recall.” Dana Stone had been the rallying point for Brujah across the country. Didn’t matter what their personal loyalty, she seemed to have equal esteem on all sides of the political divide, but Nicky couldn’t remember anything she had done to have earned her such standing.

“I guess,” the Gangrel shrugged away Nicky’s scant praise. “None of those feckless bastards could ever decide if they were Anarch or Camarilla. Fucking moon phases with them. But she died that night.”

“In the crossfire? That seems unlucky of her.”

“Target of opportunity.” That vicious smile grew wider, body leaning forward as if remembering the hunt. Nicky wondered what opportunities Monster had taken while the city was in free fall.