#also i might come back online just to district myself from my thoughts

[thechaoticfanartist]

I'm going to kill Grim she's so stupid

[jeon-kookie-dough]

Caught in the Game - Chapter 01

After growing up in the midst of Toman and a rather wild time in college, you are now working for a popular fashion magazine. You were aware of your boss's gang past - Kokonoi Hajime's name having been well-known during your school time - but after you bumped into an old friend at work the other day, one coincidence follows the next and you find your past catching up to you...

pairings: Koko x reader, Chifuyu x reader genre: angst, gang!au rating: m for violence & slowburn smut word count: 2,536 next>

The subway was much stuffier than usual. Bodies pressed into each other at every curvature, the sweat mingling on the sticky handlebars. And it is only the morning, for fuck’s sake.

The way from my house, which is located kind of in the outskirts of Tokyo, to Chiyoda where my office was located, felt like a lifetime this hot morning. Between trying to avoid creeps in the subway and standing in the longest queue in front of my favorite coffee shop for what seemed like hours, I was trying to supersede immense tiredness.

As of November, of the year prior I was working for one of the bigger fashion magazines in the country and the deadline for my latest article was already scratching at the front door. More like clawing, actually.

Up until starting up this job, I was used to living a half-assed life. School came easy to me, despite having been caught up in some…situations. College was a blur of alcohol and parties and I just barely graduated. After college I held myself above water with various part-time jobs, having been kicked out from home at barely 18 and landed my current job by chance. This upcoming article was more than important to me, thus stressing myself, and crying my fucking eyes raw from frustration, since it was the first time having my work printed in an actual magazine instead of just publishing online.

The second I stepped foot into Marunouchi Park Building, I sighed of relief and thanked who ever invented ACs. I entered the elevator, pushed the button for the 23rd floor and leaned back against the cool metal wall of the cabin. Just as the doors were about to close, somebody sprinted into the otherwise empty cabin. The person was male and of average height, balancing a couple garment bags and shoe boxes in his arms. I wasn’t really surprised that he was going to exit on the same floor, as the other offices in this building were mostly financial firms.

Not minding the other person, I let him leave the elevator before me, clocked in and greeted my colleagues with a friendly nod. I took a while, but in the past eight months, people seemed to have accepted that I was far from a morning person, so they learned to appreciate my curt nods. Only because I bring coffee. At least that’s my hypothesis.

“Good morning, sunshine!”

My eyeballs immediately rolled to the back. Hearing my boss’ voice in the morning was like nails on a chalkboard. I rolled back with my chair, peaking around my cubical. The bright sunlight illuminated the office through the glass front, reflecting in the angled door to the chief editor’s single office. His figure leaned in the door, arms crossed and hand holding out expectantly.

“S’up, Koko?” I mumble. I knew exactly what he had his hand stuck out for, but I wouldn’t give him the gratification he wanted. That rich fuck, I thought. Bet he snorts his coke with 10k yen bills but can’t even get his own fucking coffee.

“Think my hand is missing an iced Americano this morning. Care to explain?” His slender frame circled around the cubicle wall, now towering above my sitting person. My office was usually occupied by five people in total. Inui always being late and the other three on vacation left me as the only victim. I rolled my eyes at him. “Dunno”, I retorted, opting for my most innocent look. “Think I might have dropped it. You can have a sip of my Cappuccino, but I’m afraid I spat in it.”

Kokonoi Hajime was a peculiar person. He stood at 5’9” and his black locks braided away from the left side of his face was his signature look. He cared a lot about his staff being dressed well, as he himself only own designer suits from Italy. Despite enjoying the power he had over his staff, he also was very liberal in the way we communicated with another at the office. I had never met him before taking the job, but I had certainly heard of Kokonoi way before.

Koko was only a year or two older than I was and back in middle and high school he had a reputation. He lived one school district away from me, but the stories about him were also told at my school. Stories of a financial prodigy that hid behind his wannabe gangster friends that, most of the time, resorted to violence.

“You have a foul mouth”, he snickered, grabbing my cup and taking a sip anyway. “Somebody ever told you that?” I hummed in response, counting my coffee lost, and turned on my laptop. “I have a meeting in five minutes, so please take my calls, will you? Inui is useless, as always.” I nod silently, still grieving the loss of my coffee. Koko’s gaze rested on Inui’s empty desk, then on me. “How’s that big article of yours coming along?”

I knew he meant no harm with that question, but my elevated stress levels along with the acid, that always seems to wing in his voice, made me snap. “Fuck off, alright? I’m working on it.”

The chief editor raised his hands in defense and backed away from my desk, a smile playing about his lips. “The meeting’s until noon. Tell Inui to take my phone when his drags his lazy ass here.”

Inui arrived at 10:30, offering a coffee and a doughnut as a peace offering. I told him to screw off and, finally, concentrated on my article. It was almost done, but I needed it to be perfect before handing it to Kokonoi for proof-reading. I couldn’t afford messing this up if I ever intended of becoming a regular in the print.

I was so emersed in my work that I never saw the visitor arrive or leave. At lunch, all that occupied my mind was my hunger. I didn’t really have a lot of money left, thanks to the fucking chief for having me dress in expensive clothes so he quote unquote didn’t have to claw his eyes out at the sight of me, so a snack from the vending machine it was.

With food just in sight, my feet may have become a little too eager and I stumbled a crashed face first into someone walking by, having them fall onto the marble floor with me. I cussed under my breath and tried to get onto my feet, when there was already a hand outstretched to help me.

“You okay?” I averted my eyes immediately, embarrassment written on my face. “Uh, yeah, I’m alright, I guess. Er, I think you dropped something.” I dove right back down, picking up the visitor laminate. It read ‘Visitor for KOKONOI Hajime. Name-‘

My gaze darted up immediately, meeting a pair of silver eyes staring right back at me. “Mitsuya fucking Takashi?” I whispered in sheer disbelief. My opposite grinned, squeezing his eyes shut doing so. “It’s been a long time, huh, (Y/N)?”

I found myself accompanying Mitsuya to a Korean restaurant down the street for lunch. His treat, he said. The sun was merciless, and he scolded me for not carrying an umbrella with me. “It’s bad for your skin, you know?” I grunted, looking up at him. “Like I care.”

My high school graduation ceremony had been the last time I had seen Mitsuya. Up until then, we had almost been inseparable, having lived in the same shitty apartment complex, visiting the same middle school and him only being one year older. Back then, a lot of things happened. We never really had a fall out, at one point things just changed.

At the restaurant, we slid into a booth and a young waitress came to our table to take our order. Her eyes revealed that she found my companion attractive, but as per usual, he was oblivious. A couple minutes passed, and we were handed our drinks.

“Alcohol at this hour?” His eyebrow shot up in worry, vanishing behind his silver hair. He changed it up a bit since then, leaving his shaved sides in his natural black hair color, his top hair raked with black strands in the otherwise light hair. “Thought you had given up on that.”

I stirred my vodka soda with the glass straw, the ice chinking against the glass. “Yeah, I had.”

Mitsuya didn’t dig any further and leaned back into the cushioned bench instead. “So, a fashion magazine, huh? I thought you always wanted to become a sugar baby, what happened?” At his question I emptied half my drink in one gulp, disregarding the straw completely. “Turns out I’m not really cut for sucking wrinkly dick.” To that, Mitsuya busted out laughing. “You achieved just what you always dreamed of. How does that feel?” I asked quietly.

He stayed silent for a while and I watched him gnawing at the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking about how to choose his next words. “A lot of time has passed, you know?” His voice was dull as he finally spoke. “And a lot happened in between. I guess it was either getting my life under control or…” His voice trailed off, but I knew exactly what he left hanging in the air. Prison. Or even worse, death. “For my sisters’ sake, I chose to get my life together.”

I nodded, fumbling with the glass straw, one burning question on the tip of my tongue. How are the others? Is everyone still alive? I was too afraid of the answer, so I pushed the thought way back.

“Tell me about you, though”, Mitsuya smiled and leaned forward, folding his hands and propping his chin on them. “Working for Koko now, huh? How’s that been?” I groaned quietly and let my head hang. “He’s a fucking pain in the ass. Making me buy all this expensive shit so I’ve got nothing left in the bank. If I knew beforehand who the chief editor was, I would have never taken that job.” Mitsuya chuckled and flicked my forehead. Just like he always used to.

“I know what you mean” he mused. “I never thought I’d see his face again after-“ My eyes shot up at the tone in his voice. I never knew they had met before. Back then, I would have feared for his life. Everyone was young and stupid back then; delinquents with nothing but fist fights on their minds. But the folks Koko had surrounded himself with were more on the actual criminal side.

“What? Mitsuya, you never told me!” Even I was surprised at the pure horror in my voice. “Why didn’t you say something?” Mitsuya shrugged. “Nothing bad ever happened. It was just a surprise to see him in a position like this, that’s all.”

After lunch, which was fucking delicious, dare I add, Mitsuya and I exchanged numbers before going our separate ways.

The rest of the day I couldn’t concentrate on anything anymore. Before I headed home, I met Kokonoi’s gaze through his glass door and it gave me the shivers. Like he was watching me. Like he knew something. Creep. This weird feeling followed me all the way home and I caught myself looking back at every turn, at every red light. For some reason the conversation I have had with my old friend had me nervous. Nervous for him, for me, for everyone. What if Koko’s the same old thug, but with a lot more money and influence?

At home I opened a bottle of white wine, dunked the cap in the bin and sat at my desk, ready to catch up on the time I wasted at the office being worried. With a little liquid confidence, of course. Cheers!

I had approximately gotten about three hours of sleep. My body felt like it had gotten run over by a truck, my brain felt like soup. The only silver lining was, that I had, hallelujah!, finished my article – and my favorite co-worker Natsuki returning from her vacation. She had been working at the magazine already when I had started and showed me around.

Only a few days after I had started working, Atsushi Sendo had been transferred from another internal office to ours. There had been a lot of rumors occurring around his transfer, sexual harassment among them, but in the end, he had only royally fucked up his latest pitch and, as a punishment, had been put under Koko’s supervision, since he’s known to be the meanest editor. He ended up liking to work with us so much that he just stayed. The three of us ended up becoming the bane of Koko’s existence.

I stepped one foot into the office, yawning and pulling an Inui, I can’t believe that I arrived even after him, before I heard Natsuki already picking a fight with the chief editor. I silently put her coffee next to her cup of tea, handed another one to Inui and sat down at my own desk.

“With all due respect, Kokonoi, but you can’t expect me to not freak out when I come back after three weeks and find myarticle published under your name!” I leaned back into my chair, eyes closed, and head thrown back, and listened to the bickering in the chief editor’s office. A few minutes later, Natsuki threw the door into the lock behind her, the heel of her shoes dangerously echoing in the otherwise silent room.

It only took a moment before my sleepy body jumped awake when it got hit by a paper ball. My eyes ripped open just to find her eyes lingering over the wall between our cubicles. “Thanks for the coffee”, she said, raising the cup in a silent toast. I did the same, somewhat straightening up my spine in the seat. “Glad you’re back”, I yawned. “Old scrooge was unbearable.”

“Was?”, Natsuki barked under her breath. “He’s the spawn of hell! Remind me to never take anything from him again. He’s the kind of person to always expect something in return and I don’t even want to think about what he would expect.” I grunted in my chair and sipped on my black coffee, leaving a red lip print on the paper.

“Money” Kokonoi, who unbeknownst to any of us had left his office, answered Natsuki whilst keeping his sly eyes on my. “I don’t take anything but cash. (Y/L/N), where’s your article. Deadline’s today.” Natsuki’s and my eyes met over the screen. Our boss rarely called us by our names, much less our family names - he prefers shit like darling or sweetheart. Why the fuck am I still working here?! – so we knew something was up. And maybe I have a hint.

“Check your mails. I submitted it at, like, 3.” “A.m.?” Natsuki mouthed in disbelief, but I kept my eyes fixed on Kokonoi. He beckoned me with a finger to follow me. “Come in my office for a minute, would you, sweetheart.” There he was again. The egotistical, chauvinistic asshole. The chair hit the screen behind me as I rolled back a little more forceful than intended, but I followed him, anyway.

[anon-e-miss]

Barbarian continues - Straxuse's Henchmen is up to no good!

The job of settling the younger sparklings down was taking Prowl some work. Before he could return, Bluestreak woke and started fussing. Smokescreen lifted him from the basket and rocked him gently. He sucked on his own fist and whimpered around it. His older brother cooed at him. Bluestreak watched his brother as he made silly faces and the bitlet quieted his whimpering and focused on his face. Prowl reappeared before the silly faces lost their magic for the newling and as soon as his originator sat on his cushion, Bluestreak was taken into his arms and offered a fuel line. Bluestreak was not long alone, “Yellow” woke and grumbled when he rooted along Jazz’s chassis and did not find the line he was after.

Though his arms were full, Prowl returned to Smokescreen’s lesson. Of course, he was used to this. With questions circling through his helm, Jazz lingered in the harem. Though Straxis private chambers had been purged, Jazz continued to use the alcove next to Prowl’s. It was a bit of a conflict for him. The urge to be close to his creations and the desire to be aloof from Staxis prize. Ori would be angry with him for thinking of Prowl like that and Jazz would not be able to fault his originator. He was not proud of this thought process and he was less proud with how consciously he was clinging to it.

As Jazz lay awake and stared at the ceiling, Jazz heard the whimper of a bitlet. There was a barely audible sigh and the weariness of it only made Prowl a little more relatable to Jazz. It was not welcome. While he argued with himself, Prowl moved. Jazz paused mid thought as Prowl crossed the floor of his alcove and out into the empty, abandoned harem. Jazz waited a bream before he rose. He did not have to look far for the Praxian. Prowl was sitting on the balcony, overlooking the garden, staring out into the darkness. How did he feel about the cavern? Could it have felt claustrophobic? Even if Prowl had spent the last twenty some vorns in some nursery, that did not mean a big cave might not be intimidating.

Jazz heard the suckling of newlings and he wondered if Prowl had come out here to avoid the newlings waking the sparklings, or if he had also been restless and unable to recharge. He made sure to stand within visual range of the mech’s doorwings before he quietly approached. The Twins were fuelling. Their energon brother was dozing between against their wetnurse’s chassis. Prowl inclined his helm to Jazz as he took a seat to his left.

“Havin’ trouble rechargin’?” Jazz asked. The mech looked tired. It was different than the weariness that otherwise hung over him.

“My processor will not cycle down,” Prowl confessed. “Same.” “You need not worry, I am not going to runaway.”

“I wouldn’t stop ya if ya wanted to,” Jazz said. Prowl doorwings dipped lower. It was not a matter of want, was it?

“Smokescreen told me ya got away for a while.” “We stayed with Tumbler,” Prowl said. He stared ahead, Jazz did not think he was seeing anything, however. “He had been my partner when I had been an enforcer.”

“That how ya ended up savin’ the mech?”

“The Senator was arrogant. There was a fuel contamination issue in the district surrounding the dockyards. It lingered on for vorns and vorns despite all the promises. There was a protest. I was on hand with dozens of other enforcers to keep the peace. Apparently there had been a traffic accident a few streets over and despite being aware of the protest, Crosscut and his bodyguard decided they would avoid the traffic jam by trying through the protest. They were mobbed and very nearly killed. I was shot by an errant blaster when I pushed the mob back. I did not realize the extend of my injuries until I had gotten them to safety and given them a piece of my processor for being so reckless and stupid. I collapsed. My spark chamber had been cracked, my spark exposed. When I came online I was shackled to the berth. I was under arrest for theft and deception.”

“Theft?”

“For robbing Praxus of the fertility of my frame. Mech guilty of my crime were either assigned to broodhouses or placed in the custody of a sponsor. Sometimes, but rarely they get bonded off. My uncle sold the right to breed me to Crosscut.”

“Ya must regret savin’em.” “Every mega-cycle since,” Prowl looked down at the newling recharging on his chassis.

“Crosscut was humiliated he had been rescued by a receptive mech. His colleagues mocked him endlessly for it. He avenged his honour on me and put me in my place.”

“He had no honour,” Jazz replied. Prowl looked at him through the corner of his optic.

“He left me be after I kindled with Smokescreen. I was locked in the nursery he had prepared and thought of nothing but escaping. It took me until Smokescreen was nine vorns old to break the encryption on the door. We ran that dark-cycle. I had no credits. My T-cog had been removed. I went to Tumbler’s habsuite. I could think of nowhere else to go.” “He sold ya out.” “He wait two vorns as the ransom rose and rose. In the meantime I paid my way on my back. He did not want me to kindle. He bought an implant and installed it in my chamber to insure there were no accidents. When the reward reached two billion shanix he gave Road Rage his address and went out for the mega-cycle.”

“Fraggin’ Pit.”

“She dragged me back to Crosscut. I was restrained. I fought when he tried to reinstate his claim. It angered him. He promised I would never see Smokescreen again. I begged him. I begged him.”

“What’d he make ya do?”

“He removed my restraints and told me to get on my servos and knees and to present myself. He kindled Camshaft in my that dark-cycle. After that dark-cycle he made careful certain to never leave my forge open for long. He stopped locking the nursery when I was heavy with Downshift. He knew I could not run. He knew it would humiliate me knowing the door was open. Just as he knew I would not leave them.”

“‘M glad he’s dead. ‘M glad she’s dead. If I find out they were given a decent burial, I’ll dig ‘em up ‘n toss ‘em to the sands.”

“Thank you.” Jazz wondered what had happened to his partner, the mech who had used him as an interfacial slave before selling him out.

Had he gotten the pay out, or had he gotten himself into deep slag for revealing he had been warming his berth with the Senator’s prize? There would have been a little justice in it if Tumbler had found himself in chains after selling Prowl back into them. Unfortunately, Jazz knew the world was anything but just. He did not need to leave justice to fate, did he? Praxus was more enemy than ally but they did still trade back and forth. If Jazz put an operative in one of the caravans, he could potential track that Tumbler down and give him the death he deserved. Jazz could do that. That would be a good show of gratitude.

“Mm!” Yellow whined when Red’s enthusiastic wriggling knocked him off his line. “Hush, Sunshine,” Prowl crooned softly and he righted the mechling and got him latched again.

“Sunshine...” Jazz hummed.

“I do not mean offence,” Prowl said, not meeting his optics. “I felt... odd addressing him as Yellow.”

“He shines like the sun,” Jazz said, stroking his creation's helm reverently as he nursed on Prowl's line.

“How did ya do it? Designate all those bitties just right?”

“I would not say I am good at picking designations,” Prowl replied. “It took me an orn to designate Bluestreak.”

“It suits ‘m. He even coos in his recharge,” Jazz said.

“He does,” Prowl said. He looked down at his newling who lay cooing in his little basket, an expression Jazz could not decipher on his faceplates. “I... gave them the designations that came to me. It is traditional to give mechlings infantile or unpleasant designations when they are small. An old superstition. But I wanted to, I hope I gave them good designations. They were the only things I could give them. Something to tie to their memories of me once they left the nursery.”

“Smokey doesn’t want to leave ya.”

“I know.”

“We don’t pass our younglings off to mentors. We don’t bond them off when their interface drive’s ‘ve just engaged ‘cause their sparks turned out receptive. Y’re their origin. If ya want a mentor for Smokey, that can be arranged, but his place is wit ya ‘til he’s ready ‘n grown.”

“I would prefer he stay with me,” Prowl said, tentative. “Unless finds someone he would want for a mentor.”

“Mechling’s devoted to ya,” Jazz said. “Can’t picture’m findin’ a mentor he wanted more than ya.”

“I need him,” Prowl replied and the shame was a bit of a surprise. “I need his help with his brothers and sister. I need his understanding. It is an unfair burden for a mechling his age.”

“Bein’ used as a broodcarrier was an unfair burden to ya,” Jazz said. “Bein’ wetnurse of my twins is another burden. ‘M askin’ a lot o’ ya, on top o’ what ya already got goin’ on.”

“I have the fuel in me to sustain them,” Prowl replied. “As long as you have need of me, I will provide.”

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. The designations came to Jazz as he lingered late into the dark-cycle with Prowl. It pleased him when Prowl approved. Jazz escorted Prowl back to his nook when the three newlings had all drunk their fill and settled into recharge. He only realized how pleased he was by Prowl’s approval until he was laying down in his own berth and he grimaced. The more time he spent with Prowl, the more he spoke with Prowl, the more Jazz liked him. When he looked at Prowl, when he spoke to Prowl, Jazz saw Straxis spectre less and less.

He felt a hideous hatred and a guilt that twisted his spark. An image of Free flashed across his processor and Jazz felt sick. Jazz tossed and turned throughout what remained of the dark-cycle. The solace he had found with Prowl felt like a betrayal. He needed the mech to go. Guilt twisted in Jazz’s spark again, the source different, and he fought to push it down. The clans were gathering. Amongst those coming to Staniz were mechs his kin had considered friends, before their clan had been outlawed, before not a one had spoke out against Straxis’ botnapping of Free Wheeler and his attacks on their clan.

It was easier to swallow the silence of those clans who had long been allies of Straxis than it was to swallow the silence of mechs he would have personally risked his own life to help in the same circumstances. Those old friends would be jockeying for places of favour around him. It made Jazz sick to think about it, but he set it aside. He would listen to them, maybe they would have glyphs that might start him on the path to forgiveness. Those who had directly aided Straxis in his crimes might have come hoping they could talk or bribe their way into Jazz's good graces but they would fail.

Straxis henchmechs had been chased to every corner of the desert. They were no longer a threat. That only left the allies. Jazz would need little encouragement to stamp them out. He knew there were good mechanisms within those clans even if his view of them all had been tainted. If Prowl struck an accord with one... Guilt made Jazz nauseous.

“Jazzy.” Only one mechanism called him that.

“Ricochet!”

[marginalgloss]

I turn 35 tomorrow. How better to celebrate that than with some notes on the handful of video games I have managed to finish over the last ten months. In no particular order:

Judgment (PS4)

Something I think about often is that there aren’t many games which are set in the real world. By this I man the world in which we live today. You can travel through ancient Egypt or take a trip through the stars in the far future, but it’s relatively rare to be shown a glimpse of something familiar. Hence the unexpected popularity of the new release of Microsoft Flight Simulator, which lets you fly over a virtual representation of your front porch, as well as the Grand Canyon, and so on.

I found something like the same appeal in Judgment, a game which took me longer than anything else listed here to finish — seven or eight months, on and off. Like the Yakuza games to which it is a cousin, it’s set in Kamurocho, a fictional district of a real-world Tokyo; unlike other open-world games, it renders a space of perhaps half a square mile in intense detail. I spent a long time in this game wandering around slowly in first-person view, looking at menus and in the windows of shops and restaurants. The attention to detail is unlike everything I have ever seen, from the style of an air conditioning unit to the range of Japanese whiskies on sale in a cosy backstreet bar. And this was a thing of value at a time when the thought of going anywhere else at all, let alone abroad, seemed like it was going to be very difficult for a very long time.

It’s a game of at least three discrete parts. One of them is a fairly cold-blooded police procedural/buddy cop story: you play an ex-lawyer turned private eye investigating a series of grisly murders that, inevitably, link back to your own murky past. In another part you run around the town getting into hilarious martial arts escapades, battering lowlifes with bicycles and street furniture. In another, you can while away your hours playing meticulous mini-games that include darts, baseball, poker, Mahjong and Shogi — and that’s before we even get to the video game arcades.

All these parts are really quite fun, and if you want to focus on one to the exclusion of the others, the game is totally fine with that. The sudden tonal shifts brought about by these crazy and abrupt shifts in format are, I think, essentially unique to video games. But the scope of Judgment is a thing all its own. As a crafted spectacle of escapist fiction it’s comprehensive, and in its own way utterly definitive.  

Mafia: Definitive Edition (PS4)

I was amazed when I found out they were doing a complete remake of Mafia, a game I must have finished at least three or four times in the years after its release back in 2002. Games from this era don’t often receive the same treatment as something like Resident Evil, where players might be distracted by the controls and low-poly graphics of the original. 

A quality remake makes it easier for all kinds of reasons to appreciate what was going on there. (Not least because they have a lot of new games in the same series to sell.) But in the early 00s PC games like this one had started to get really big and ambitious, and had (mostly) fixed issues with controls; so there’s a hell of a lot more stuff going on in Mafia than in most games of that era. It was also a very hard game, with all kinds of eccentricities that most big titles don’t attempt today. Really I have no idea how this remake got made at all. 

But I was so fond of the original I had to play it. The obvious: it looks fantastic, and the orchestral soundtrack is warm and evocative. The story is basic, but for the era it seemed epic, and it’s still an entertaining spectacle. The original game got the balance of cinematic cutscenes, driving and action right the first time, even while Rockstar were still struggling to break out of the pastiche-led GTA III and Vice City. 

They have made it easier. You’re still reliant on a handful of medical boxes in each level for healing, but you get a small amount of regenerating health as well. You no longer have to struggle to keep your AI companions alive. Most of the cars are still heavy and sluggish, but I feel like they’re not quite as slow as they once were. They’ve changed some missions, and made some systems a little more comfortable — with sneaking and combat indicators and so on — but there aren’t any really significant additions.

The end result of all this is that it plays less like an awkward 3D game from 2002, and more like a standard third-person shooter from the PS3/360 era. Next to virtually any other game in a similar genre from today, it feels a bit lacking. There’s no skill tree, no XP, no levelling-up, no crafting, no side-missions, no unusual weapons or equipment, no alternative routes through the game. And often all of that stuff is tedious to the extreme in new titles, but here, you really feel the absence of anything noteworthy in the way of systems. 

My options might have been more limited in 2002 but back then the shooting and driving felt unique and fun enough that I could spend endless hours just romping around in Free Ride mode. Here, it felt flat by comparison; it felt not much different to Mafia III, which I couldn’t finish because of how baggy it felt and how poorly it played, in spite of it having one of the most interesting settings of any game in recent years. But games have come a long way in twenty years.    

Hypnospace Outlaw (Nintendo Switch)

If this game is basically a single joke worked until it almost snaps then it is worked extremely well. 

It seems to set itself up for an obvious riff on the way in which elements of the web which used to be considered obnoxious malware (intrusive popups and so on) have since become commonplace, and sometimes indispensable, parts of the online browsing experience. But it doesn’t really do that, and I think that’s because it’s a game which ends up becoming a little too fascinated by its own lore. 

The extra science fiction patina over everything is that technically this isn’t the internet but a sort of psychic metaverse delivered over via a mid-90s technology involving a direct-to-brain headset link. I don’t know that this adds very much to the game, since the early days of the internet were strange enough without actually threatening to melt the brains of its users. 

(This goes back to what I said about Judgment - I sometimes wonder if it feels easier to make a game within a complete fiction like this, rather than simply placing it in the context of the nascent internet as it really was. Because this way you don’t have to worry too much about authenticity or realism; this way the game can be as outlandish as it needs to be.) 

But, you know. It’s a fun conceit. A clever little world to romp around in for a while. 

Horace (Nintendo Switch)

I don’t know quite where to begin with describing this. One of the oddest, most idiosyncratic games I’ve played in recent years. 

As I understand it this platformer is basically the creation of two people, and took about six years to make. You start out thinking this is going to be a relatively straightforward retro run-and-jump game — and for a while, it is — but then the cutscenes start coming. And they keep coming. You do a lot of watching relative to playing in this game, but it’s forgivable because they are deeply, endearingly odd. 

It’s probably one of the most British games I’ve ever played in terms of the density and quality of its cultural references. And that goes for playing as well as watching; there’s a dream sequence which plays out like Space Harrier and driving sequences that play out like Outrun. There are references to everything from 2001 to the My Dinner with Abed episode of Community. And it never leans into any of it with a ‘remember that?’ knowing nod — it’s all just happening in the background, littered like so much cultural detritus. 

A lot of it feels like something that’s laser-targeted to appeal to a certain kind of gamer in their mid-40s. And, not being quite there myself, a lot of it passed me by. Horace is not especially interested in a mass appeal — it’s not interested in explaining itself, and it doesn’t care if you don’t like the sudden shifts in tone between heartfelt sincerity and straight-faced silliness. But as a work of singular creativity and ambition it’s simply a joyous riot. 

Horizon: Zero Dawn (PS4)

I stopped playing this after perhaps twelve or fifteen hours. There is a lot to like about it; it still looks stunning on the PS4 Pro; Aloy is endearing; the world is beautiful to plod around. But other parts of it seem downright quaint. It isn’t really sure whether it should be a RPG or an action game. And I’m surprised I’ve never heard anyone else mention the game’s peculiar dedication to maintaining a shot/reverse shot style throughout dialogue sequences, which is never more than tedious and stagey.

The combat isn’t particularly fun. Once discovered most enemies simply become enraged and blunder towards you, in some way or another; your job is to evade them, ensnare them or otherwise trip them up, then either pummel them into submission or chip away at their armour till they become weak enough to fall. I know enemy AI hasn’t come on in leaps and bounds in recent years but it’s not enough to dress up your enemies as robot dinosaurs and then expect a player to feel impressed when they feel like the simplest kind of enrageable automata. Oh, and then you have to fight human enemies too, which feels like either an admission of failure or an insistence that a game of this scale couldn’t happen without including some level of human murder. 

I don’t have a great deal more to say about it. It’s interesting to me that Death Stranding, which was built on the same Decima engine, kept the frantic and haphazard combat style from Horizon, but went to great lengths to actively discourage players from getting into fights at all. (It also fixed the other big flaw in Horizon — the flat, inflexible traversal system — and turned that into the centrepiece of the game.) 

Disco Elysium (PS4)

In 2019 I played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons. I’m talking about the actual tabletop roleplaying game, not any kind of video game equivalent. For week after week a group of us from work got together and sort of figured it out, and eventually developed not one but two sprawling campaigns of the never-ending sort. We continued for a while throughout the 2020 lockdown, holding our sessions online via Roll20, but it was never quite the same. After a while, as our life circumstances changed further, it sort of just petered out.

I mention all this because Disco Elysium is quite clearly based around the concept of a computerised tabletop roleplaying game (aka CRPG). My experience of that genre is limited to the likes of Baldurs Gate, the first Pillars of Eternity and the old Fallout games, so I was expecting to have to contend with combat and inventory management. What I wasn’t expecting was to be confronted with the best novel I’ve read this year.

To clarify: I have not read many other novels this year, by my standards. But, declarations of relative quality aside, what I really mean is that this game is, clearly and self-consciously, a literary artefact above all. It is written in the style of one of those monolithic nineteenth century novels that cuts a tranche through a society, a whole world — you could show it to any novelist from at least the past hundred years and they would understand pretty well what is going on. It is also wordy in every sense of that term: there’s a lot of reading to do, and the text is prolix in the extreme. 

You could argue it’s less a game than a very large and fairly sophisticated piece of interactive fiction. The most game-like aspects of it are not especially interesting. It has some of the stats and the dice-rolling from table-top roleplaying games, but this doesn’t sit comfortably with the overtly literary style elsewhere. Health and morale points mostly become meaningless when you can instantly heal at any time and easily stockpile the equivalent of health potions. And late on in the game, when you find yourself frantically changing clothes in order to increase your chances of passing some tricky dice roll, the systems behind the game start to feel somewhat disposable. 

Disco Elysium is, I think, a game that is basically indifferent to its own status as a game. Nothing about it exists to complement its technological limitations, and nor is it especially interested in the type of unique possibilities that are only available in games. You couldn’t experience Quake or Civilisation or the latest FIFA in any other format; but a version of Disco Elysium could have existed on more or less any home computer in about the last thirty years. And, if we were to lose the elegant art and beautiful score, and add an incredibly capable human DM, it could certainly be played out as an old-fashioned tabletop game not a million miles from Dungeons and Dragons.

All of the above is one of the overriding thoughts I have about this game. But it doesn’t come close to explaining what it is that makes Disco Elysium great.

[cynergy-laughter]

Meet the Family: Obey Me! One Master to Rule Them All!

Fanfic Series by: @cynergy-laughter

Featuring: (Defined MC) (Comedy, Fluff, Shipping, Angst) (PG-Rated)

Chapter 3: Unconvinced and Understood (2311 words)

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Diavolo was happy to greet his fellow board and his favorite exchange student today. Even though this was the Devildom’s version of Summer Vacation, there was still work to be done. Diavolo went over the typical topics, addressing the different ways to improve the Exchange program, budgets, and of course, planning events for next school term. Brendon was looking for a good time to interject, have the floor and ask his question.

“... Alright… oh, that reminds me! Brendon?” Diavolo asked, looking at Brendon with a curious smile, “I heard through the grapevine that you got a letter from the new Devildom human mail program.”

“O-Oh yes! I did. I got a letter from my family… which brings me to my question… umm… My family is going to be holding their annual family summer vacation in Kyoto, and they invited me… I wanted to go.” Brendon expressed nervously.

“Oh? Well, of course, you’re welcome to go.” Diavolo said with a smile.

“Thank you, but that’s not it… I was wondering if… I could bring Lucifer and his brothers with me to Kyoto…”

Diavolo blinked and looked at everyone. “You wanted to bring Lucifer and the entire student council? I mean, it would be good for what we are trying to accomplish here with the exchange program… but I… I don’t know if that would be a wise decision. I need my council to help reach difficult decisions with our meetings. I could probably spare one or two members, but all of them?” Diavolo bit his lip, “That and I was planning a summer vacation for them too.”

Brendon looked down, “That’s what I thought… I didn’t want to have to pick, because I think they all deserve to meet my family…”

Diavolo frowned. “I’m sorry Brendon.”

“May we put it up for discussion? I don’t have to leave until 3 days for the vacation, maybe we can find a compromise?”

“Brendon, I’ve said my case. And as well, there is a lot of paperwork to do for the students at RAD.” Diavolo shook his head, “Plus I would have to appoint temporary officials as well…”

“Well… I have a suggestion… why don’t you assign some of the members certain tasks and they can join me when they get done with them?” Brendon kept trying to push for something.

“Brendon. Two members of the council, and that is final. Now, please, you need to pack for your trip. And then you have to fill out this form so we can prepare the teleportation runes of the portal, and give you a way to travel back.” Diavolo said firmly, handing Brendon a slip of paper.

Brendon looked like he wanted to protest more, but he didn’t want to push his luck, so he resigned to the decision made, took the paper, got his stuff, and was dismissed from the meeting. Brendon didn’t even know what went on inside the student council hall, but he wasn’t concerned about that, he was concerned about who he was gonna pick. He went straight home and changed, before heading out to the shopping district. He was doing a bit of window shopping, looking for something new he could wear for Kyoto.

As he was shopping, his head was getting clouded up by the thought of who to pick. Whom could he choose? There were so many combinations and possibilities that were both good and bad… Lucifer and Satan wouldn’t be a good pairing, neither is Mammon and Levi… Beel and Belphie might be good, but at the same time, they could cause some trouble too. Asmo would be a good choice… if it wasn’t for the fact that he would be with his brothers as well as himself… All of these went on through Brendon’s mind that he didn’t even see who was walking in front of him. He had bumped into someone, and Brendon had dropped a few bags, stumbling backward a bit.

“Oh Brendon, there you are.” Satan said, leaning down and helping him pick his bags up.

“O-Oh! Satan, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you… I got a lot on my mind…” Brendon trailed off, getting some of his other bags as well.

“Don’t worry about it. I can imagine what you must be going through… you have 2 out of 7 of us to choose to go with you to Kyoto this summer.” Satan said, nodding. “But, I would just be careful and aware of your surroundings… are you finished shopping?”

“R-Right… umm no, I’m not finished yet, I was just looking around.”

“Well, why don’t we take a break? I know, let’s have lunch.” Satan smiled and led Brendon over to a cafe.

Brendon sat right across from Satan, waiting for their lunch to be served. Satan was reading while Brendon was looking around at the different shops he could see from his seat.

“Is your family good to you?” Satan asked all of a sudden, not looking up from his book.

Brendon blinked and snapped back to his company. “Umm, I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Tell me about your family, are they good to you?” Satan asked again, this time closing his book, putting it safely in his messenger bag, and leaning in, charmingly sipping his tea.

“O-Oh… yeah, they’re good to me… my mom is the sweetest woman, always asking if you need anything, always there to listen to your troubles, and she gives the warmest hugs…” Brendon blushes embarrassedly, “She can be a bit pushy, sometimes invasive, but she means well.”

“Hmm… How about your brothers? Tell me about them… well first, you said you are the second youngest, right?”

Brendon nods and smiles. “Yeah, second youngest. My little brother is 22, I’m 25.”

“Hmm… what’s your little brother like?” Satan put his hand on his chin.

“Well, he’s like you, Satan; studious, intelligent, independent, but he’s pretty chill, and go-with-the-flow, like Belphie. His name’s Will.”

“Oh? Interesting… I should make sure to make myself acquainted with him.” Satan said.

“Hehe, yeah, I have this thing with my brothers, I nicknamed them after various mythological deities, it was kind of a brotherly code to piss off and confuse our dad. Will’s nickname was Thoth, the Egyptian god of wisdom, who started as a deity of the moon.” Brendon said, chuckling and giving a smile.

“Oh? I would love to know everyone’s nickname… that’s fascinating.” Satan said, and chuckled with Brendon. “You know, that’s the first time you voluntarily smiled all day. You have a wonderful smile.”

Brendon blushes and chuckled sheepishly. “Thank you… I think you have the better smile though…”

Satan shakes his head. “I would disagree, your smile makes me smile.”

Brendon and Satan laughed a bit more until their food arrived. Brendon smiled at Satan while they ate lunch. As much as Satan could be a bit of a know-it-all, and a bit destructive when he was angered, he was a good conversationalist, proper and polite to an extent. He also was mischievous, playful, and the most curious, and learned out of all the brothers. And he loved cats, which is always a plus. He really appreciated him helping to get his mind off of this choice.

After lunch, Satan and Brendon made one last trip around the shopping district before heading back to the house. Satan walked Brendon to his room before leaving with a, “See you at dinner.”

Brendon walked into his room and began to pack for the trip. He knew that he would be there for two months, so this was bound to be interesting, especially with the luggage set he bought, two huge one, one medium, and one small, as well as his backpack and messenger bag. He also made a checklist of things to do tomorrow, as well as things he would need. Suddenly, his D.D.D. pinged.

It was Leviathan.

“Hey! Brendon! I got a new game!” Levi texted

“Oh? That’s awesome, Levi!”

“... Well? What are you waiting for? Come on over to my room so we can play it!”

“Levi… I have to start packing for my trip…”

“Eh, you have 3 days til you go, come on, you deserve a break. I need my player 2.”

“... Alright, but please don’t mention the trip… the decision is still killing me…”

“Okay! As long as you get here as soon as possible!”

Brendon smiled as he got up, went out of his room, and went over to Levi’s room, saying the secret phrase and gained entry.

“Brendon! Come on, this new Last Legend Remake has two player capability!” Levi said, smiling excitedly, stars in his eyes.

“Hehe, you know, you remind me so much of one of my older brothers, I think you would like him.” Brendon said as he sat down next to Levi and took up the controller offered up to him.

“Oh? Really? Is he an Otaku like me?” Levi asked, tilting his head.

“Hehe, yeah, he’s an Otaku, he’s a streamer, but the only difference is that he isn’t as shy as you. In fact, he is always down to talk and joke. He’s kind of like Mammon and you fused together with a touch of Asmo, he also is into drag. You might have heard of him… umm… he goes by PanDionysia online.” Brendon said, but then his head shot over to Levi when he heard his controller drop.

“Y-Your older brother is… P-PanDionysia?! Y-You know what this means?! Your brother is one of the cosplaying, and streaming Legends! I’m such a huge fan! Gah! I’m so jealous! You grew up with such greatness…” Levi said, taking Brendon’s shoulders and shaking him slightly, and then stopped, and his face flushed as he realized the horrifying reality. “... And I’ve been calling you, the younger brother of PanDionysia... a normie this whole time…”

Brendon blinked and began laughing, before taking Levi’s hands off his shoulders and held them. “Levi, it’s okay… he doesn’t really mention anything about his family to the world… So you couldn’t have known… He takes his gaming seriously… but he also keeps his gaming and family life separate.” Brendon reassured, lightly squeezing his hands.

“Are you sure? I… I guess you’re right… he’s a pretty big deal in the convention scene, getting the most exclusive spots at concerts… and winning tournaments and raids in his streams… he’s so cool… I’m so jealous of him… I want to live his life…” Levi said, longing, silently sighing and biting his lip.

Brendon smiles. “Yeah, he’s a pretty cool person when you get to know him. ” Brendon looks at Levi, “...Kind of like you, except you’re more… quiet than aloof.”

Levi blushed a bit, and looked into Brendon’s eyes. “Y-You think I’m cool? Me? The Yucky Otaku… cool?”

“Oh stop, Levi, you’re not a Yucky Otaku. I mean, at least you don’t smell like stagnant body odor and corn chips” Brendon chuckled and nudged Levi.

Levi blushed a bit more at that. “I mean… before I met you… probably… but, I started being more hygienic when you started hanging out with me… I’ve never wanted to impress anyone, not until you came along…”

Brendon blinked, “You wanted to impress me?”

Levi shrugged, “I-I mean, I guess… I noticed how good you smelled, how bright your smile was… how much you liked playing games and watching anime with me… so, I began to make an effort to stop smelling and I started inviting you to play games, you make me feel like I have a best friend.”

Brendon smiles at Levi, pulled him into a hug, and gave a cheek a bit of a smooch. “I’m glad to be your best friend, Levi. I’m glad that you allowed me to be a part of your life.” Brendon said, watching Levi.exe stop working.

Levi was blushing madly as he was trying to compute what was happening. “W-WHAAA?! C-Come on, I’m still not used to the whole kissing thing! Warn me next time…” Levi babbled, but didn’t pull away, instead, leaned in closer.

Brendon held him close and stroked his hair. He knew that Levi was a bit reclusive, had niche interests in both conversation topics, and activity. He was prone to envious behavior, as well as high standards to be included in his circle of friends, as well as harsh to himself. But, he was always willing to give people a chance. He was funny, adorable, and the most passionate of his brothers, except for Asmo, but his passion was different from Levi’s passion.

“Well, let’s get to playing, I’ve been wanting to see how this compares to the original!” Brendon said, patting Levi’s back and picked his controller back up.

“O-Oh! Yeah! Definitely! I’m so excited for the continuation coming soon!” Levi said as he started the game on his player one controller.

They both played together until Mammon texted that it was time for dinner. It was a typical dinner as usual, Mammon and Levi getting into it, Satan and Asmo discussing how stupid Mammon is, and their purchases. Beel was eating everything, Belphie had finished part of his food early and gave the rest to Beel so he could fall asleep at the table, and Lucifer was as cool as always, eating his food and silently thinking about how to punish Mammon tonight, and Brendon was a bit silent, still trying to figure out who to take on his vacation.

Brendon was the one to wash dishes tonight, so he was busy scrubbing away at the kitchen utensils, cookware, silverware, plates, and glasses. He heard his D.D.D. buzz suddenly and he swiftly turned the water off and dried his hands to try and put his earbuds with the mic in the jack and answered the phone before going back to washing his dishes, “Hello? Brendon DeHallow speaking.”

[koala-otter]

the teacher and the scientist au: worldbuilding

I am writing some original stuff right now, and as a break where I can keep writing, I’m going to explain some of my worldbuilding/choices that I make when it comes to my modern “the teacher and the scientist” AU. The hope is that it will be fun for others to see what goes into a fic, or give people ideas for their own fics!

*a quick note: I am a white Latina! I have no East Asian heritage! I studied for a while in Beijing and speak Mandarin Chinese fluently, so I kind of defer to my experiences there when making worldbuilding choices in fic (because I believe strongly in writing what you know, especially given the damage you might cause by writing what you don’t know), but will also do research online or through friends on other countries and cultures that inspired the four nations in ATLA. But all of this is just to say that while I do put a lot of thought into this stuff, I am by no means the authority on any of it, and I am open to criticism and of course always want to make sure I’m not doing anything harmful with my writing. I promise to listen and adapt if you approach me about literally anything in my fic or in this post.

Ok now let’s get into it!

1. The setting: Ba Sing Se’s Natural History Museum This is based on a combination of the Beijing Museum of Natural History, the American Natural History Museum in New York, and Beijing’s Forbidden City/Gugong. Beijing I think is probably the biggest inspiration for Ba Sing Se with the ring system and centering of the palace (and I mean the Earth King’s palace is pretty directly based off of Tiananmen Square), so it seems like a pretty solid model for a modern Ba Sing Se to me.

2. The field trip I went on so many field trips to the Natural History Museum when I was little, and they were always the absolute most fun of the year. And I feel like we went to the planetarium basically every time? It was kind of fun to recall and try to capture the experience of being a little kid on this trip in this fic

3. The Lower Ring & the Middle Ring I put Zuko and his students as coming from the Lower Ring for a few reasons. Firstly, I couldn’t imagine Katara and Aang living in either the financial district that is the Middle Ring or the ostentatiousness of the Upper Ring. I think if they were in Ba Sing Se they’d work and raise their family in the Lower Ring (I will be getting into their jobs in later installments of this story, so I won’t explain them here!), which means Bumi goes to school in the Lower Ring, which then means Zuko has to work there in order to be his teacher and for this entire concept to work out (and also the reasons explained in the actual fic where he lived there with Iroh and wants to give back). And the museum is in the Middle Ring because I wanted it connected to the university, which canonically is in Ba Sing Se’s Middle Ring.

4. Sokka as an astrophysicist Because Sokka is a smart kid and a huge science nerd, okay??? And Yue and the space sword. It makes sense. Also, because Ba Sing Se = ATLA’s Beijing, I think of Ba Sing Se University as Beida （北大）or Peking University, which is China’s first national university and one of the most, if not the most, selective university in the country (disclaimer: I did not study at Beida!!). But yeah BSSU is the Earth Kingdom’s most illustrious university and one of the best research institutions in the world, and Sokka’s a tenured professor there. My boy’s world-class brilliant.

5. “Teacher Zuko” Ughhh I really struggled with this. Basically, I was taught in learning Chinese to address teachers as “Surname 老师 (lao3shi1),” which is “Surname Teacher.” But! I didn’t want to give Zuko a surname, because that seemed rife with opportunities for missteps (there’s a lot that goes into surnames of literally any country or culture, from geography to family history and occupations, and I didn’t want to co-opt anything that wasn’t mine to use). So I knew the kids would call him by his first name. But “Zuko Teacher” sounded off. And in Chinese, titles like Mr. or Miss or Mrs. go after one’s surname, while in English it’s the opposite, so I figured for this fic it was appropriate to implement the English convention. So! “Teacher Zuko.”

6. Sokka’s appearance Sokka’s one of those hot, young professors that appear only in popular media, or once in a blue moon. He finds out from Katara that white sneakers are an easy way to look in the fashion know while remaining marginally professional for class, and they become a staple of his uniform. I picture him in Stan Smiths. (And of course they’re a little beaten up! It’s Sokka!)

7. The gaang’s ages Okay, so, I can’t find the actual post where this is broken down, but I think canonically it makes sense that Katara and Aang were 22 and 20, respectively, when Bumi was born. I put them in this fic at being maybe a year or two older in this fic, so let’s say 23 and 21, when they have Bumi, in Katara’s second year of med school. So when this fic takes place, as Bumi is six years old, they are 29 and 27, and Sokka and Zuko are then 30 and 31.

oh my god we’re only 700 words into a 4,000-word fic why did I decide to do this to myself

8. Sokka looking at his watch and having a penchant for exact minutes He’s a master scheduler. That’s it. 

9. “My Uncle Mushi lives in Chin City” This was just kind of an opportunity to integrate more from the ATLA universe! Obvi “Mushi” is Iroh’s refugee alias, but whatever another kid can have it, and yeah Chin City is that terrible village with all of those wacky people from “Avatar Day.” So we know the kid’s uncle is wacky. Fat chance of going on a field trip to visit him.

10. Zuko calling Bumi talented There’s that scene in the episode where they go to the Sun Warriors that Zuko calls Aang “a talented kid.” Bumi’s Aang’s son, so I figure by the transitive property Zuko would describe him the same way.

11. Zuko’s scar  I don’t know why but I often forget to mention Zuko’s scar in other fics! Either way, I find kids usually respond to people’s differences better than most adults do. Kids just see things and comment on them, which, yeah, can be rude by societal standards, but I’d imagine it would be very refreshing for Zuko after going much of his life with people trying to avoid either staring at the left side of his face or talking about what happened. Also, I didn’t really want to get into the cause of the scar. Obviously Ozai did it. I don’t have an idea of how. Other fics have done that better. Explaining it within the fic the way Zuko would explain it to his class seemed like a good way to tell the reader, “Hey yeah it’s the same cause as in the show,” but then not have to get into it.

12. Sokka hates intro classes Ughhh no one likes intro classes, and I’d imagine it’s even worse for professors. Prerequisites are often too easy for the kids intending on majoring or too hard and meant to weed out the kids who can’t stick with the department’s program. College is funny.

13. Aang volunteers in Zuko’s class From what I can tell, parental involvement in schools is only getting bigger. And Aang is a great dad and I think he’d take any opportunity to get involved with Bumi’s school.

14. Zuko’s backstory I should probably take the time to explain this! Basically I think of this story existing in a universe where after they moved to Ba Sing Se under circumstances comparable to their being refugees in the show, Iroh and Zuko actually stayed in the city, and Zuko got his education there. And yeah! My boy went to BSSU, too!

15. Stargazing at the South Pole and seeing the moon at the North Pole Oh my god the pure amount of thought that went into this. I worked with the assumption that A:TLA takes place on Earth, and that then the rotations of Earth, and the rotation of the moon, are the same as what we experience now (I’ve thought about this extensively, especially as it pertains to the hemispheres and the seasons, but I don’t want to talk about it here, we simply do not have either the time or space). So the South Pole is essentially the same as our Antarctica/South Pole, except that it is capable of sustaining human life for an extended amount of time, and in theory has greater biodiversity (clearly I have also thought about this extensively, but again, we have neither the time nor the space for my theories). I had to read a NASA report on the phases of the moon as seen from the South Pole! And it turns out you can’t see much of the moon down there, and it is always in crescent form. but yeah, you see a lot of stars (but in the opposite rotation of what we see in the Northern Hemisphere), and I thought that was intriguing, especially given the importance of moon imagery throughout the show. Thus, Sokka’s first seeing the moon in the Northern Water Tribe, which ties in perfectly with his meeting Yue, his first love: “You could say the moon was my first love.” (Which someone pointed out in a comment on Ao3, and it absolutely delighted me that they noticed!)

16. Pipsqueak Just looking for more people from the show to serve as first graders in this fic. Someone commented that they pictured him the same size as he was in canon, and I laughed out loud.

17. Tuyanjing I was trying to think of constellations that look like badger-moles, and I honestly just thought, “Ursa Major. Badger-moles look like giant bears.” And “Tuyanjing” (土眼睛) is my own translation of “earth eye,” which was meant to be a nod to the animals’ connection to Toph and their blindness and earthbending. 

18. All the stars & mentioning the Fire Nation & Water Tribe navigation I was initially going to write something in this scene about ancient constructions, like the pyramids, that were built using the constellations, and then create some elaborate metaphor about them and Zukka. But the only coherent thought I had about it was that it was “Too Much Work.” Instead I realized okay sailors always use the stars for navigation, and the Water Tribes and Fire Nation are the only nations we’ve seen with boats, so let’s go for that, and it works out because if you squint maybe you’ll read something about the stars guiding them to each other. Maybe we’re evoking thoughts of star-crossed lovers. And then we mention the moon again, and Zuko’s really seeing it for the first time, kind of like Sokka did, so hey I don’t know maybe that’s a symbol of something. Maybe.  

And that’s really it I think! Hopefully this was at least entertaining if not entirely informative. I don’t normally write stuff out like this, but it is a good reflection of my thought process while writing most fics. Again, I am open to any kind of communication about the above as well as anything else I’ve posted! And I’d love to hear about any of your own ideas that help you with worldbuilding and writing your own fics :)

[nyullm2020]

A Day in the Life - NYU Law edition

I am blatantly stealing this idea from my fellow LLM Guide blogger at Berkeley, Nathaniel - but thought it might be helpful for those wanting to see what a day is like here in New York at NYU! This is a Thursday.

Morning

8:00am - wake up, lay around for a bit and feel deathly dehydrated from the built-in radiators in my building 😅There’s a blue sky today, but it is very deceptive - it’s cold!!

8:30am - make breakfast, usually a smoothie, cereal or avocado toast with a fried egg. Make my bed to feel minimally productive as well.

9:00am - Finish off my Constitutional Law readings before my 11am class and make my case briefs (with the facts, holding, dissents, etc for each case). I am very on top of readings for this particular class because my (excellent) professor, Melissa Murray, has a cold-calling system where she calls on people for detailed case-specific questions and hypotheticals without any advance notice. It’s a lot of work, and it probably takes me at least 3 hours to prepare for each of my 2 weekly Con Law classes - but it’s such a great subject taught by a fabulous professor, and I like being challenged to keep up.

10:00am - do an online core workout class through Zoom on the NYU Recreation website - I am much more motivated to do a scheduled class than to fit in a Youtube video, although I miss going to a real gym! A lot of my friends have started going to a cheap gym nearby, Blink, so I might join too.

11:00-1:00pm: Con Law class online with 110 other students. I don’t get called on, but I did volunteer at one point 😃At the moment, we are learning about fundamental rights protection under the Due Process Clause and Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment (protecting individual rights from undue interference by the States). We have just started on the right to procreate and the right to abortion before fetal viability - so the famous Roe v. Wade and other related cases, like Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992) were the topics of conversation today. It’s all very fascinating.

Afternoon

1:10pm: Go pick up a coffee (latte) nearby from one of my favorite local spots, like Banter, Citizens of Bleecker, Third Rail or About Coffee. It’s not cheap here, but it’s my daily treat! Make sure to keep an eye out for Cuomo....

1:30pm: Make lunch with whatever I have. If I’m feeling fancy, I’ll make some pasta with chicken, or maybe just avocado toast with eggs. I often go for lunch with another NYU LLM friend too and grab some ramen or sushi.

This was a little cherry tomato, basil and chicken fettucine I made 🤤

Here’s a chicken, kale, roast veg, avocado and feta salad I made the other week for lunch as well. I try to eat sort of healthy at home so I can eat allllll the cheesecakes and pizza when I go out.

2:00-2:30pm: Scheduled 1-on-1 check-in with my Government Anti-Corruption Clinic professor. She is fantastic, and we chat about how the class is going, my internship at the Brooklyn District Attorney’s Office Public Integrity Bureau, and my plans after the LLM. She gives me some great job search ideas.

2:30pm-3:30pm: Try to jam in some last minute reading before my Introduction to Civil Procedure Class on Zoom. This is all LLMs and I usually don’t finish the readings before this class, but there is no cold-calling. Sometimes we get to see our professor’s Welsh Terrier, Monty!

On days when I have less class, like Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I will often go to the library to motivate myself. I’m studying for the MPRE at the end of March (Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam, a component of the NY and California Bar exams), so I need all the motivation I can get!

When I go on campus, I have to complete one of these daily Covid screeners on my phone, and check my temperature with an NYU-provided themometer. Also, don’t forget your student card!

Night

5:30-6:00pm: Zoom call with a Litigation Attorney from my country as a bit of networking. I have a lot of these, and hopefully one will pay off in the form of a job opportunity! She was lovely - I found her through a bit of old-fashioned LinkedIn stalking. Send her my updated resume, and she sends me an email back and some study notes for the bar exam.

6:00-7:00pm: I have a witness preparation session with my ‘co-counsel’ student partner, Jessica (a JD student), and two undergrad pre-law students from NYU for my upcoming simulated trial for my Advanced Trial Simulation class, starting this coming Monday (spanning over two weeks). We run them through the direct examination questions we have drafted as they are playing the role of our lay witness and expert cardiologist witness, as well as cross-examination prep, and our case theory generally. I have a lot of work to do before I am ready to give our opening statement on Monday night, but it’s coming together!

7:00pm-8:30pm: Grocery shopping at a cute grocery store nearby. I love looking at all the freshly made pastas! I made a burnt butter ravioli with walnuts, pumpkin, spinach and sage, but forgot to take a photo of it - so here is all the fresh pasta and then some salmon I made the other week!

9:00pm- too late: Finish off some small tasks and face-time my good friend back home. She’s just moved to the beach, and I’m very jealous. Plan out my day for tomorrow, waste time on social media, hang out with my boyfriend after he finishes work for the day, and then relax before bed!

Let me know what you would like to see here next!

[awol-newt]

welp.

do you ever wonder why the fuck some people can deposit checks for $164k and not blink? money doesn’t buy happiness but it sure makes being happy a lot easier when you aren’t thinking about bills.

sometimes people suck. a woman asked if knew how to copy something so i could help one of the bankers out. somebody asked why i couldn’t remember her name despite me only seeing her once every couple months and never really talking-talking and actually having a million other clients. somebody said, i don’t think a teller can help me. i need to see somebody with a desk. (sure. let me grab my tablet. my desk is the one in the corner with the plant, a picture of me with my girlfriend and cat, and all the desk toys. i’ll be right over.) another person said, i’ll ask the manager [about an obscure online banking thing that even i now little about but have given you my 98% sure answer] instead.

friends. i’m rambling and ranting to you because i am sad and have terrible coping mechanisms. but also because i want to complain about my job.

i work at a large financial institution. i have worked there for 14 months. the district manager didn’t want to hire me but my manager fought for me. in those fourteen months i have:

earned two certifications, one in anti-money laundering and bank secrecy act compliance and one in fraud prevention. two certifications not required for my role.

had my transaction authority (how much cash i can give out or how large of checks i can write without consulting somebody else with a higher authority) increased from $2,500 to $50,000

given wire transfer authority (huuuuge risk if you fuck up)

given official backup management authority by my manager and market operations (compliance) analyst

more or less filled the role of assistant manager (a role which no longer exists across the board)

volunteered to join a specific group of people dedicated to reaching out to clients for at least three hours a week

invited to a special counsel to provide thoughtful questions and advice to my district manager

asked to join the committee to help plan the company’s 2020 participation in pride

nominated to travel to another state to help open new locations because of my dedication and knowledge of company resources and professional development

told by the regional manager to stay in touch throughout my career after following up with a role-related meeting (see fifty or sixty some people where i was memorable)

impressed pretty much everybody who i’ve ever worked with

i still am paid at the lower end of my possible pay scale. i am still considered the entry level position despite having privileges that folks with five years of experience don’t have. i am the person that several private wealth (investable assets greater than $100k) turn to when they need something because i am efficient and competent.

i sent an international wire transfer today. we usually ask for 45 minutes to an hour to allot towards the process because there are a lot of steps. my client asked how long it would take and i said i could have her free before her next appointment in forty minutes. what i didn’t tell her is that i am confident in my ability to do an international wire in 25 minutes or less. i sent the wire. then we had time for me to figure out how to fix her paypal account linked to the bank.

she said she would come back to me next time she needed help.

she isn’t the only person.

i have a great manager inasmuch as she trusts me to do my own thing and gives me the time to work on my development if i ask for it. she is terrible at coaching. kind of terrible at advocating for me. she’s the manager who will be a good friend after i exit my current position whenever that may be.

i have an incompetent white man who should have retired five years ago as my colleague. he clings to old systems and old guidelines and for the life of him can never remember how to do anything or figure out anything on his own despite having nineteen years tenure more than me. it takes him two hours to send an international wire and he still makes mistakes.

i am trying to remove myself from a customer-facing role. i’ve been a top contender for roles to which i’ve applied internally. i have had recruiters at other institutions reach out to me. i have a mentor who advocates for me for requisitions that require several more years of official experience than i possess.

but i am still stuck. i’m stuck in a way that makes me feel like my life is in limbo even though i am ready to try to begin the next stage with the person i love, which is on hold for a number of reasons.

my life felt like it was imploding two years ago and then i found tumblr and fandom and friends again. there was support and stability in my life again. i got a job with insurance so i didn’t have to pay $400 for the medications that were keeping me from drowning. i met my person. i stopped having as many down days and started feeling productive and accomplished again and like i wasn’t the complete failure i felt like when i withdrew from my phd program.

i really, really fucking wanted this job in denver. not just because of the 50% pay increase but because it was a chance to start laying down roots in a place that could be long-term home. a place where i might actually begin to build a family of my own. the possibility signaled the light at the end of the tunnel for my ldr. a chance for me to prove and show so much more professionally and personally.

i was devastated. i am devastated. not necessarily because i didn’t get the position but because of what getting that position could have offered. might have promised.

and now shit’s just fucked and i’m stressed because Life.

my job is pissing me off. my handful of clients that know me, who only want to work with me, are my job’s saving grace. helping them (and other people who don’t yell at me) is why i find my job bearable even if i want to jump off a cliff every time my ancient colleague speaks or somebody assumes he knows more than me because he’s an old white guy in a suit rather than me, a baby-faced, non-binary queer who has tattoos but still wears ties to work.

i am just tired.

i am tired, friends.

and now i guess i am going to curl up in bed with my plushie baby stitch and play hooky through tomorrow because i am stressed and sleep deprived and sad and tired.

sorry to dump. and sorry to all the folks out there who have it worse than me. fwp.

sorry. all the sorry’s.

[prismarine-parrots]

The Pranker Gets Pranked

April Fool’s!

Grian logged into the Hermitcraft server from his personal home world. He had taken a break from the server, just for a day or so, to enjoy some time off from the intense working and to brainstorm some plans for what he was going to do next after Sahara.

"Hello, my name is Grian and— whaaaaat the heck."

Now, he was FULLY aware of the date. April first: April Fool's.

He still was not expecting the entire Hermitcraft server to be missing?

He was on the spawn island, which was a problem, as Grian knew he did NOT log off here.

"Okay, so I know today is April Fool's, but... what happened here? I was planning on coming on and pranking the OTHERS, not being pranked myself! This isn't fair!"

Grian's "Did You Die?" Box stand made of light grey concrete powder was missing. The only thing there was a single block of the powder, and in the sky there was a single block of red stained glass where the random farm that was here was. The Nether Portal was still intact, but that was about it.

Grian glanced around and scratched his head in confusion.

"So I have no idea what's going on. I might as well go through the Nether Hub and see what else is weird..."

The builder hopped into the portal and watched as the magic purple film covered his vision, and the sounds of him warping to the hellish dimension and the swirls fading. He stepped out of the portal and was immediately surprised by a rather horrifying sight.

"What happened to the Nether hub?!"

Where there was once a wonderful, one-to-eight scale of their Season 6 world, there was now a grid of a sea- or jack-o-lantern, a block or a blue carpet, and a piece of grey stained glass. The blocks in-between were open and below them was the flat netherrack the hermits has spent the first six months of the season clearing out in their free time- and those blocks were spawnable. So in between the grids there were zombie pigmen galore, some wither skeletons, and the occasional blaze. The only things that seemed left alone were the Nether portals.

"All our hard work! The months that we spent working on this- well, others did, I just mined a couple hundred pieces of netherrack, but still!" Grian complained to his metaphorical viewers that would be watching his video later.

He turned to his portal and his shoulders sagged when he saw that the scale model of his base had been decided to birch fenceposts.

"Oh no, what happened to my base? This is not good... well forget what I was planning today, if the rest of the server if like this then I'm going around and seeing what disaster has come to the server," Grian chuckled, knowing fully well that Xisuma and likely a couple of others had set this up.

He stepped into his portal and waited the five seconds, before coming out in the overworld and stepping out of the purple-black frame.

And immediately falling into ocean.

Grian swam back up to the surface, coughing and sputtering.

"Oh come on!" He complained, treading water (which he had gotten very good at this season with the amount of ocean usage that they had been doing) and looking up at his base from the ocean. His vision was blurred from water on his glasses, which he quickly took off and cleaned to get the salt water off his lenses, although it really was useless when his sweater was soaked. He put them back on so that his footage matched his eyesight, and he gasped.

"My base!"

His base was basically nonexistent. The floor was missing, the walls in a random pattern, not even having the awkward grid of the Nether hub. There were two-by-two pillars of white concrete where his mob-spawning towers once were, and the smaller towers outside Grian's main base were single-block nerd poles of white concrete.

"This is insane..." Grian laughed to himself in sickening awe. "Everything is gone! My mess of chests, the mustache machine- oh, no, I see some stained glass still, oh nooooo..."

Grian swam away from his base to where he knew the massive ring around his base was supposed to be. He instead found a single-block wide circle in the surface water. Grian frowned and shook his head, before looking up at the complete mess that was now his wedding-cake tower to build height.

"This is SUCH a mess, guys... I can't believe this. How long did it take for the guys to do this? Did they use WorldEdit? TNT? To be honest, this look like mass amount of TNT usage. If they destroyed my base with TNT, I'm okay with that to be honest. It's my favorite block! Don't worry guys, I have the world save from before this mess, I'll just play Hermitcraft on single player now!"

He withheld evil giggles, knowing that there was of course people who did not realize the date and thought that this entire thing was literal. Grian was set up by the other hermits to pull some real pranks on his viewers, and he was still totally going to find ways to prank hermits before the day was done. But he had to keep in character- bursting into laughter at his dastardly schemes was going to give those schemes away!

"I need to go see other's bases! Xisuma's! False's! Mumbo's!" He gasped dramatically, "what happened to the Mumball?!"

The builder leapt off the ring and took off toward's his fellow Architech's base. the Architech station was mostly untouched, with the station rails still there but the bridges extending to and from on both sides of the platform were nonexistent, making it looks like some sort of strange ocean rig. It took not even five seconds further for the destruction of Grian's neighbor to come into view.

"Oh noooooo," Grian laughed sadly, "His storage system!"

The frame of the (SLIGHTLY squished) spherical base was completely intact. The glass all seemed to be smashed, including the glass that held the water for Mumbo's storage system IN the system. Water flooded the pathways between the chests and down onto the city of farms below.

"This is tragic..." the builder groaned as he flew over the sphere, not wanting to land in any water. Bumbo Balloni, the all-seeing entity levitating at the top of Mumbo's power beam, was missing half his faces and the snow golems inside were wandering the four micro biomes behind the rows of chests.

"Mumbo? Mumbo are you here? Mumbo Jumbo! Mumboooooooooooo! Do I need to start singing the AFK song? Mumbo Jumbo you are not-where-you-needtobeeee... Okay that was even worse than me singing when I was sick. Don't remix that. Oh no, now I'm going to get a sugarcane song too, no! I should really stop talking now..."

Grian spotted something in one of the buildings underneath the main build. He gasped in delight and dived down to it- Mumbo's garden where his bed was.

"Mumbo! Come look at what happened to your base! It's insane!" Grian exclaimed, hoping that by not mentioning April Fool's he might be able to get the spoon. However, he came to a sudden stop when he saw what he thought had been Mumbo Jumbo.

An armor stand, dressed in dark grey dyed leather armor, with a Mumbo head on top, having been edited by the magic book to have arms and look like like a player standing still.

Grian stared at the stand.

Then he gave a fake sob and fell over the armor stand. "Mumbo, no! You've been turned into an armor stand! The horror! Am I the only hermit not an armor stand because I went home for a day? What a cruel turn of events! Wow, I sound like Joe," he laughed to himself, before shaking his head.

"Alright, this has been very funny, but I don't know what to do now. Keep touring the server? I'm the only one online, it's going to get boring without anyone else to... interact with, and figure out what happened to the server..." Grian almost said "prank" which would have given away the veil of obliviousness that it was April Fool's.

His phone buzzed in his black skinny jeans pocket. Fishing it out, there was a server notification and a text.

xisumavoid joined the game.

<xisumavoid> what happened to my base?!

<xisumavoid> Grian! What did you do?!

<xisumavoid> there's guardians everywhere!

xisumavoid was slain by Guardian using magic.

<xisumavoid> meet me at shopping district. Right now.

"I'm going to be in so much trouble for something I didn't even do," Grian groaned, "I'll tell him when I meet him. This wasn't me OR the man in the chicken costume!"

Grian announced this to his camera and took off the small island that was dwarfed by the size of the build placed on it.

"This is a mess as well! Oh no! The stock exchange, iTrade, Tek to the Skies- my pickle shop!"

There was different types of disaster at each location. The Nether hub was a grid, Grian's base was spaghetti, Mumbo's base was waterlogged, and now it seemed that the entire shopping district had WorldEdit cutouts of the shops so that there was only half the build standing, whether vertically or horizontally.

"I have no words..." Grian murmured to himself. Not only that, but he was also running out of things to say without sounding repetitive of his and Mumbo's bases' reactions.

He landed in the plaza with the Nether portal outside iTrade and looked around.

"Xisuma? Look, I know you're mad, but I'm just as confused! I thought this was you getting at me?" He called aloud.

No reply.

Grian frowned. "Xisuma?"

The Nether portal warbled and spat out fuming turtle man.

"Grian, I don't know WHAT you did-"

"It wasn't me!"

"I swear if you said it was the man in the chicken costume-"

"It wasn't? My base has been reduced to nerd poles! Why would I do that to myself?" Grian asked. Xisuma stopped pointing angrily at the builder and a confused look entered his eyes behind the purple visor.

"Who did then?" X demanded. Grian shrugged.

"How should I know? I haven't been on in two days!"

"Oh my days..." X put his hand on his helmet and look to the sky. "I don't understand..."

They stood in silence for a while, unsure of what to do or say in this mess.

"Are you sure YOU'RE not trying to get at me?"

"Ugh, you fools are so dense... if neither of you did it, who do you think did?"

Grian and Xisuma both jumped at the voice that sounded slightly like the one in green, but not at the same time. They spun around to see...

"HELLO GRIAN"

The other said something that shouldn't be repeated in a PG-oneshot.

Grian's blood ran cold at seeing himself with black soulless eyes.

"NPC?! I just saw you at home!"

"And I thought I banned you, Evil Xisuma! Get off my server!" X ordered.

"And what gives you the right to order me around?"

"LET US BUILD A RUSTIC HOUSE"

"NOPE!" Grian immediately protested and turned to walk away, but when he turned around the alternate version of himself was behind him, red eyes glowing.

"On second thought I'll stay!" The builder squeaked. X raised an eyebrow at Grian but said nothing.

"You see this glorious chaos we caused?" Evil Xisuma announced, waving his arm to the demolished shopping district, "you think this is your server still? No! I am the admin of Hermitcraft now!"

"AND I AM THE BUILDER NOW GRIAN" NPC Grian likely would have had the same victorious, malicious grin that Evil X did if he were able to.

Grian and X glanced to each other, likely having the same question about this alter of the other.

You never said anything about a doppelganger?

The admin in red chuckled and held up a hand.

"Well boys, it's been a good run. But the Hermitcraft server is mine now," Evil X grinned. "Say goodbye to your precious world."

"GOODBYE"

Grian started to meekly protest, hoping to find a way to reason with his AI counterpart and this other version of Xisuma. But EX snapped his fingers and NPC Grian blinked, his red eyes flashing for just a moment, and then everything disappeared.

Grian shook his head, feeling lightheaded, and glanced around to find himself in the vaguely familiar cityscape of the HUB for all players.

Xisuma groaned, evidently suffering the same effects of being forced out of a server as well.

"Oh my days, what happened?"

"I got no clue man. But either this April Fool's prank has gone very wrong or we just lost," Grian sighed. "Calling it now, things will be back to normal by morning..."

X grunted in irritation. "I know I was in on PART of this, but not everything! I think we might have just lost Hermitcraft! And if I'm not admin anymore, then I can't rollback the server or kick Evil X and whoever your dude was and... and..."

Grian decided to not inform the not-Doom guy that he was one hundred percent that most of this was a prank. He simply pushed up his recording glasses on his nose, making sure they were still recording X's panic, smirking to himself that this was going to make a great video by the end of the day.

There's a few perks to being known as a prankster. I can't let this oppertunity be passed up now, can I?

--

Evil X withheld his laughter until both his partners had used the /kick command to kick Grian and his counterpart from the server. They both disappeared before his eyes, and he immediately burst out in hysterics, holding his knees and being unable to see from tears.

"That was priceless!"

"I AGREE THAT WAS VERY FUNNY" NPC Grian agreed in his robotic tone. "I THINK IT IS TIME TO RETURN TO MY CLOSET NOW"

"Awww, not gonna stay to mess with Grian more?" DocM asked the AI, sounding slightly disappointed.

"IT IS TIME FOR ME TO GO HOME"

"You sure you're going to be safe if you go back home?" Python asked, "Won't Grian do something?"

"I WILL LIKELY GET YELLED AT AND THEN HE WOULD LAUGH HE LIKES PRANKS AND WAS TALKING OF APRIL FOOL'S EARLIER"

"Aw, so we didn't get him. Damn," EX grumbled.

"I don't know man, he seemed pretty startled to see NPG over there," Doc chuckled and nodded to the AI. "It's good to finally get back at him for the stunts he's pulled on me."

EX felt grim satisfaction knowing that there was someone else out there who got enjoyment out of seeing people suffer in retribution for something they did to them. The scientist-creeper-cyborg-thing gave off the sort of sinister and intelligent vibes that EX could appreciate. The red creeper hybrid had a more mischievous vibe than sinister, but had been more welcoming to EX and NPC Grian for their short time on the server than some of the other hermits that had taken notice of them for the prank in the hours they had been waiting for Grian, and partially by chance Xisuma, to come online.

"I guess I'll be going as soon as Mr. X realizes he's still admin and will re-ban me and revoke your powers I hacked you," Evil X assumed, slightly sad but also knowing he totally deserved it for pulling this thing again.

"See you around then, I guess," Doc said rather duly and then headed for the Nether portal.

Python waved and NPC Grian, unable to really give a farewell, simply disappeared.

EX sighed, shaking his head, and took out the devices he stole from normal Xisuma and logged off the server before he could be so rudely kicked like he had many times before.

--

"NPC! HOW DARE YOU!"

"HELLO GRIAN WANT TO BUILD A RUSTIC HOUSE"

"NO! I WANT TO KNOW HOW YOU MANAGED TO PULL THAT OFF?!"

"IT WAS NOT MY IDEA ASK EVIL XISUMA"

"I hate that I know you're lying but I can't get it out of you..."

"I KNOW GRIAN"

———————-

Word count: 2738

Latin version didn’t let me keep that last part with NPG and Grian ;^;

Happy (well, now it's belated, but it wasn't yesterday) April Fool's!

[cows-in-sweaters]

Stray Kids and Non-Kpop Songs They Remind Me Of

[All Music Listed In Playlist Form Here]

Chan: Tantrum - Waterparks // Arguably the main idea of the song is fighting against the music industry’s higher ups and elitists as well as the restrictions put on performers and the way it totally destroys some people. I just feel like that’s something Chan’s probably seen a lot of with training for so long, and the song’s “stick to your guns” attitude is something we saw a lot of with tracks like District 9 and Mirror and I’d kill to see more of that but with a more Rock or YaYaYa sound like this. 

Woojin: I’m A Mess - Ed Sheeran // I’m not entirely sure why this song always reminds me of Woojin to be totally honest, but i think it’s just the general vibes. This is one of my favorite of Ed’s songs for his vocals and the guitar kills me. I think that’s mainly why I associate it with Woojin. I could just see him absolutely crushing the higher parts of the song and it just makes me really happy to think about idk. 

Minho: Cheetah Tongue - The Wombats // Again, I’m mostly going off vibes they give, but I’ve associated this one with Minho since ASC he came out of his shell a little more, ya know? The song has this really interesting duality between nonsensical and deeply meaningful lyrics that overlap and intertwine to the point where it’s a puzzle to work out which are which, and I think that kind of mix shows through in Minho’s performances and when he’s in videos a lot. That plus the killer guitar and beat on this one feels just as addictive as he is lol. If songs were idols, this is the biaswrecker of my music. It’s fitting in my mind. 

Changbin: All Alone - Gorillaz // I feel like, similarly to Cheetah Tongue for Minho, this songs hits the duality of Changbin’s character and stage presence well. The style and vibe also fits with Stray Kids’ general aesthetic in my mind anyway with the whole dystonia-esc, societal reject, vibe of I Am Not. The song doesn’t have that fast rap we’ve grown to love about Changbin, but I think it hits all the beats lyrically and thematically. It also helps that when I first got into skiz he was still super into the “i like dark” routine and reminded me of Murdoc. 

Jisung: San Diego and Go -  blink-182 // I always thought Hellevator reminded me a lot of San  Diego thematically, and with Hellevator being the song I associate Jisung with the most from a lyrical aspect, the three always cemented themselves together in my mind. The introspective lyrics followed with an upbeat and determined chorus just reminds me of Jisung a lot. As for Go, the anxiety induced panic of the song as well as the bravery and determination to do what’s best for those around them and protect their loved ones, always made it one of my favorite blink tracks. It just seems like something Jisung would vibe with in my mind. Obviously with every artist we can only really know the side of them they choose to show or create to be shown, but from what we’ve seen, I would imagine he’d at least appreciate the lyricism of the music and vibe with the fast, upbeat instrumental. 

Felix: The Ocean - Tonight Alive // I was very tempted to go with Sister Cities by The Wonder Years for Felix due to the song’s themes of finding family even in the most desperate of times and foreign places, but I kept finding myself coming back to Tonight Alive. Aussie representation I guess. The Ocean focuses on the feeling after being knocked down and the fight to get back up again, which I think is something that relates to Felix a lot. Having the power of the ocean within you to keep getting better and powering through until you get to where you want to be. Relevant. 

 Seungmin: Shake It Out - Florence + The Machine // This is one where I focused more on the son’s general sound and vibe then lyrics to match it. I felt like Florence’s naturally gorgeous voice and soothing sense in her music if when it gets a bit chaotic and the music is just swarming it, really fits with Seungmin’s demeanor. The optimistic lyrics seem to fit him well too. There’s also this common, calming spirit between the song and him that is really motivating and endearing. His whole vibe always struck me to see him as the kind of person that’s likely to be one of groups’s motivators and grounding points. The kind of person you can fall back on when things get too crazy, ya know? Then again, I might just be projecting cause I used to listen to Florence’s music as a calm-me-down during high intensity moments and panic attacks. Either way, it’s my reasoning so I’m sticking to it for now lol.

Hyunjin: Ghosting - Mother Mother // Hyunjin’s was the hardest for me to pin down cause there’s a lot of different sides to him that stand out and are admirable. Ghosting is one of my favorite Mother Mother tracks, largely due to it’s dual nature and mentality. On one hand, it’s a very beautiful, abstract, track that deals with someone’s lingering habits around a past relationship and their realization to finally let go. Then on the other hand, it’s a silly, upbeat, playful tune that gave Ryan Guldemond the excuse to play with the cute and funny imagery of a Charlie Brown-esc Halloween and contrast that with the reality of a serious relationship and the life of his ex. I think the juxtaposition of the imagery presented with the sound of the track itself is what really made me want to connect it to Hyunjin. At least online, he always seems presented as more of a model then a hard working musician, and even less frequently is he shown as the funny and playful kid he (and the majority of Stary Kids) is/are. The song is a subtle ode to the hidden layers and complexity of many of us and the way that our inner selves often leaks through out exterior presentation when we’re at our most vulnerable. 

Jeongin: King and Lionheart - Of Monsters And Men // A very sweet yet powerful song for someone who strikes me as fitting that description fairly well. ^^ In all seriousness though, this song is a very kind and gentle tune that’s always been a very positive and motivating one, which is something I’ve always associated with Jeongin’s personality. He said in an interview (for the show i think?) that he tried really hard to be a very brave, positive force among the members and through music, which is something I think the song really vibes with. It just always felt like a feel-good kinda tune, and he strikes me as a feel-good kinda person. 

[awesome-power-cat]

Doki Doki Literature Club: Character files Decoded.

(Possible Spoilers) CLICK AT YOUR OWN RISK.

     My sister Lilly and I, decoded everthing below after I noticed that the text within Yuri's ".chr" file resembled (that of) Base64. We then searched and decoded the other character files.

DISCLAIMER: I have yet to fully complete the game, therefore I haven’t fully read the following data (text) to it’s fullest. (That’s why I’m unsure if it contains spoilers)

Monika’s “.chr” file Decoded:

After opening Monika's ".chr" file, I noticed it looked like an image file. So I renamed the file extension to ".png" and got the image below.

     The image resembles a ring of fire with some form of QR code in the middle, however this was not a QR code. I cropped out the ring of fire so I was left with the code in the middle. After examining the code I tried a few ideas we had, and they all failed. I then thought what if this is binary, the white pixels represent ones, while the black pixels represent zeros instead of typing each zero and one out by myself, I programmed a simple java program that would scan the pixels left to right, and output the corresponding value (Zero or One ), based on the pixel color (Black or White). The end result is a binary code. We used an online tool to decode the binary and the result was a bunch of letters and numbers. These "letters and numbers" looked like Base64 so, we used another online tool to converter those "letters and numbers" to text. That's how we got the message below.

"Can you hear me? ...Who are you? I can't...I can't see you. But I know you're there. Yeah...you can definitely hear me. You've been watching for a while now, right? I guess I should...introduce myself, or something. Um...my name is...actually, that's stupid. You obviously already know my name. Sorry. Anyway...I'm guessing if you were able to put a stop to this, you would have done it by now. I mean, I know you're not, like...evil, or anything...because you've already helped me so much. I should really thank you for that. For everything you've done. You're really like a friend to me. So...thank you. So much. I think...more than anything else...I really don't want it to all be for nothing. ... Everyone else is dead. Maybe you already know that. I'm sure you do, actually. But...it doesn't have to be that way, right? Well...there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. I don't know if it's even possible for me to understand it. But I know that this isn't my only story. I can see that now. Really clearly. And I think everyone else has had the same kind of experience. Some kind of deja vu. It's the Third Eye, right? Anyway...I could be totally wrong about this. But I really think you might be able to do something. I think you might be able to go back...or however you want to put it... ...To go back and tell them what's going to happen. If they know ahead of time, then they should be able to avoid it. They should...if they remember their time with me in the other worlds...they should remember what I tell them. Yeah. I really think this might be possible. But it's up to you. I'm sorry for always being...you know... ... Never mind. I know that's wrong. This is my story. It's time to be a fucking hero. Both of us. 2018"

Yuri’s “.chr” file Decoded:

Upon opening Yuri's ".chr" file. I instantly noticed text that looked like Base64. I used an online tool to convert the Base64 text to the message below.

Warning: The following text is... uh.. intense. You've been warned!

"If you found this note in a small wooden box with a heart on it, then *congratulations!* You are probably the first person to read this. I didn’t really plan on sharing this with anybody, but for some reason I think it’s exciting that somebody out there, a complete stranger, will come across this note and read my story. Someone I will never meet, sharing such a personal bond with me. I’m fascinated that either one of us could die - even as soon as tomorrow - with the other being completely clueless to the fact. To you, my entire life is within this note, and so I will live for as long as your memory can carry me. Writing this, I’m wondering if that makes you feel fascinated or violated. It’s so exciting. I’m sorry if my story is a bit disorganized, but I’d like to get it down while it’s still fresh on my mind. First, I’ll tell you a little bit about myself. I’m a first-year college girl and have led, by most standards, a pretty unspectacular life up to this point. I grew up in an upper-middle class school district with decent teachers. I did track in middle school and some of high school, and I’ve had two boyfriends. Now, I’m studying for a career in occupational therapy, because I feel the field is undervalued and provides tremendous help to people. I’m giving you this background because there’s this strange misconception that if you want to kill someone then you’re either sick in the head or you have anger management issues. But, it’s very apparent that I don’t fall into either of those categories. It’s true that most murder cases are in a domestic setting where someone loses control of their anger or something. But the thing is that those people kill under provocation, whether by a singular outburst or by a slow-burning series of misfortunes. Those people kill because in that brief moment, they want a specific someone, for a specific reason, to be hurt or killed. What I’m talking about is wanting to kill someone for no specific reason, maybe just to see what it’s like. Do you ever get that? I wouldn’t know how others feel, because it’s not something I ever talked about. But I’ve been curious about what it’s like to kill someone ever since I was a child. Not killing anyone in particular, just a random person. It’s always just fascinated me that if I put my mind to it, I can approach anyone, and in five minutes they would be completely gone from this Earth. But I’ve never done so for a couple of reasons. First of all, for most of my life it was logistically impossible for me to do it without getting caught. I only got my driver’s license a couple years ago, and even then, the preparations would take too much time, definitely stirring suspicion. It was only once I started college that I realized this was no longer an obstacle. Another reason is that I was afraid of causing harm to too many people. You might laugh reading that, at how hypocritical it sounds. But, let me explain: Why should I feel bad about killing someone if they’re too dead to care? Who would I be feeling bad for? Contrarily, it’s the grief of the living that I’d rather not be responsible for. Because of this, I knew it would take a good deal of research before finding a suitable person to kill, and I’ve never had the means to do so - again, until I started college. And now, having just experienced it, I’d say it was pretty satisfying in the end. Something I would try again? Probably not, since my curiosity has already been satisfied. It really wouldn’t be the same a second time. But anyway, if by any chance you’re also curious to kill someone, then you’re welcome to take notes. :) *** I started a hobby of people-watching soon after I entered college. People-watching is interesting to me because it’s taking one of the infinite extras in your life and turning them into a main character - without them knowing, of course. It’s so easy to forget that every single one of the hundreds of strangers you pass every day has a life story as deep and complex as your own. One thing I noticed about people-watching, and wanting to kill someone, is that you are in more constant awareness of this. When I find a person to observe, their story slowly becomes more clear to me over time, gaps being filled - it really is amazing. I usually went to grocery stores on weekends and looked around in people’s shopping carts. If I saw something that interested me, I decided to observe the person for a little bit. Of course, since my goal was to find someone to kill, I ruled out anyone who had children or a partner with them. Wedding rings were another tell-tale sign. So maybe once a weekend, I would find someone who fit my criteria, at which point I would follow them home and note their address. From there, it became incredibly easy to investigate a little bit more; most people have normal work hours, meaning I could spend afternoons going through their mail or looking around in their house. I repeated this with several people (and had one close call), but for varying reasons I didn’t really feel satisfied enough with them to kill any of them. I started getting a bit impatient and thought that I might just settle for killing the man named Devon, even though I didn’t really want to kill someone wealthy. But then, I came across someone new - someone who just, felt perfect. The feeling only strengthened as I investigated her further, and I knew that she would be the one for me to kill. A young-looking woman I met at the grocery store, as per usual. She was doing some light shopping with a basket. Her hair was wavy and dark brown, sitting inelegantly on her slumped shoulders and surrounding her tired-looking face. Her bare fingers told me she might be single, but beyond that, my gut was almost certain of it. This woman just seemed so…plain, really. I guess I felt a greater acuity for the personal lives of strangers ever since I started my people-watching. But the way she carried herself, I just got the feeling that if she suddenly died, nobody would be around to miss her. Of course, I still wanted to investigate her a bit. I followed my usual routine of checking out her place during her work hours. I learned immediately from her mail that her name is Linda Watson. Linda lived in a quiet apartment complex, her mailbox easily accessible right outside her door. Instead of quickly shuffling through it, I decided I could take her mail back to my dorm and return it before she was finished with work (she only lived about 15 minutes from me). I did some research and learned how to open and reseal the envelopes without damaging them, which took some technique along with a hair dryer, rubbing alcohol, and Q-tips. This made it easy for me to learn a little more about her. Linda was a 33-year-old woman who worked for a small accounting firm - I’d rather not name the place outright. Her birthday was December 11th which, coincidentally, was approaching in a couple weeks. I also managed to find a bank statement that gave me a nice look into how she’s been spending her past month. It was at this point I realized that my assessment of Linda Watson as an extremely plain woman was pretty spot-on, because there was absolutely nothing interesting on the list. A trip to Old Navy, a bunch of Starbucks, something about $40 from Amazon - no restaurants, no movies, nothing that would really imply she was spending any time socializing. That aside, I also found a cooking magazine, so I guess she was into cooking. Apartments are harder to break into than suburban homes, because there are fewer doors and windows. Every time I got Linda’s mail, I would check the front door and the windows in the back, but they were always locked. This was a bit frustrating because I was really interested in getting into her house. So, I came up with a sort of plan that I thought would be fun, even if it didn’t work. Last Saturday, I visited Linda Watson’s apartment complex as I would on weekdays. The difference is that this time, I wanted her to be home. I thought it would be interesting to have a conversation with her. If I got lucky, I could take advantage of the situation to discreetly unlock a window from the inside. So, I walked up to her door wearing nothing warmer than a light sweatshirt, and knocked. The adrenaline rush was crazy. I was afraid I might screw something up. The door opened, and in front of me stood Linda Watson, exactly as I remembered her from the grocery store. It was at that moment, making eye contact for the first time, that I realized I was running the risk of beginning to care about this person. As selfish as it is, I couldn’t kill a person I cared about, even if it’s a 33-year-old woman standing in a doorway with a slightly perplexed look on her face, giving me a reserved “Hello.” Arms crossed from the cold, I shyly returned Linda’s greeting. I explained that I was walking my dog near the woodsy area behind the back of her apartment, and that he had gotten away. I had been looking for my dog for an hour and was wondering if Linda may have seen him roaming about. Of course, Linda sympathetically apologized for the situation and that she couldn’t be of use to me, but that she would keep an eye out. I wore a defeated expression in response, apologizing in return for troubling her. It somehow went exactly as I had hoped - Linda invited me inside to warm up a bit with some coffee. I outwardly hesitated before accepting her offer, although on the inside I wanted to jump through the door and hug her for cooperating so well. And that’s how Linda Watson ended up with a 19-year-old girl next to her on the couch - who knows if it was just a nice gesture or if she really has no better way to spend her Saturdays than talking to some kid she just met (who happens to be interested in killing her). Linda soon learned that my name is Maria (it’s not) and that I attend the nearby community college (I don’t). I was a little bit nervous that she would ask me too many questions because I didn’t have many answers prepared. I was able to steer the conversation toward her, and she was pretty happy to talk. I asked what she does, and she told me that she works for the accounting firm I already knew about, communicating with outside clients and keeping records. I told her I was pretty nervous about growing up. She told me to enjoy college and to make lots of friends because there’s less opportunity once you start working. When I asked if she was married or anything, she laughed. Of course I knew she wasn’t married, but I wanted to hear more about her love life. She said that she doesn’t currently have a boyfriend (I guess she’s at least had boyfriends, but who knows how long ago). When I asked her about kids, she said she doesn’t want them until she gets a better job. On top of that, she told me that her family has a history of some genetic diseases such as arthritis and depression, which she is afraid to give to her kids. It’s funny that she mentioned that because when I asked to use her bathroom, I noticed a tube of prescription pills on the sink. It was labelled duloxetine, which I looked up later and discovered that it is in fact an antidepressant. I had a joking thought that maybe by killing her I’d be doing her a favor, but quickly decided I was a terrible person for coming up with that. The rest of the visit was pretty dull. We talked about food and some other mundane stuff before I eventually made an excuse to leave. I didn’t get the chance to unlock a window or anything like that, but I didn’t really feel the need to go through her apartment anymore. As early as the drive back to my dorm, I was already thinking about how I would best like to kill Linda Watson. The choice was between effectiveness and fun. I decided to go with fun, because it would be way more satisfying to kind of dissect her as I killed her, rather than just getting it done and calling it a day. Fast-forward one week to December 13th - today, actually. Linda Watson turned 34 two days ago. I made a fun little wager with myself where if Linda was spending her birthday weekend alone, I would pay her a visit and kill her. If she was out or had company, I would stop by next week or something instead. So this morning, I drove over to Lowe’s and bought an axe. Again, I expect you’re laughing, but that’s also kind of the point. An axe is so kind of cliche and a “movies�� thing that I actually thought it would be the most fun. Swinging it at someone and everything, it’s a really entertaining image. They actually had a bunch of different axes, so I picked one that had a good weight but was still light enough for me to swing quickly. The drive after getting the axe was when the adrenaline really picked up. All that kept going through my mind on the way over was “Wow, I’m really doing this.” Not in a bad way, just like a surprised this is real life sort of thing. I also got this strange rush of recollections of the time I spent with Linda. It was like my life was flashing before my eyes, except it was just the rather mundane hour I spent with Linda - like snippets of our conversations, the sound of her laugh, her facial expressions and stuff. I also wondered to myself what the crazy serial killers would be feeling at a time like this - schizophrenic delusions? Sexual buildup? I have no idea, but what I felt was kind of like ridiculously alert and numb in the senses at the same time, however that’s possible. Before getting out of the car, I had the sense to stuff the axe into my backpack to look a little less ridiculous walking across the parking lot. The handle was sticking out, but that didn’t really matter. At that point my heart was pounding so hard I could feel my throat throbbing. I tried controlling my breath, but it’s really hard to not breathe fast when your heart is pounding like that. I reached Linda Watson’s door and quietly put my ear to it after setting down my backpack. I heard a voice that wasn’t hers - company? No, it was just the TV, mixed with her occasional tapping footsteps behind the door. I actually kept my ear there for a really freaking long time, because I wanted to make absolutely sure nobody was over. Probably 10 minutes of that and a lot of reassuring myself convinced me. I quietly opened my backpack zipper and held the axe in my hands. My fiercely shaking hands. What the hell was this kind of reaction that my body was making? I told my body to shut up, that it’s no big deal, but of course it wouldn’t listen. It was actually bizarre how much my hands were shaking. It must be the adrenaline buildup. I rolled my eyes at myself and got my hand to rest on the doorknob. If it’s locked, I’ll knock, it’ll be basically the same. I took a deep breath and forced my muscles into action. I swiftly turned the doorknob. Not locked. In one movement, I opened up the door and slipped inside. Linda Watson, just a few steps away into the kitchen. I see - she was in the middle of cooking. She immediately jumped and turned around, startled. I expected that. Quickly, I let go of the doorknob and adjusted the axe into both hands. In the following split second, I realized that she would probably start to make a lot of noise. Looking back, I’m an idiot for not considering that. Just as Linda’s mouth opened to speak - maybe even started speaking - I forcefully swung my axe into the side of her head. But, my axe was facing backwards. I hit her with the blunt end of the blade. I actually did this on purpose, because in that split second I somehow decided that it would be the way to keep her noise to a minimum. It actually worked. I felt barely any resistance in the swing as I collided with her head, knocking it clean aside. Linda’s half-formed syllable came out as a kind of weird grunt - a noisy exhalation is probably the best I could describe it. That happened at the same time as her head smacked into the cabinet from the force, and she fell backwards without any ability to keep her balance. I didn’t hesitate at all to keep swinging at her while she was half lying down on the ground, this time my axe facing the right way. I didn’t really know where to swing, so I kind of just started hacking at her collarbone area and chest. It didn’t feel like the axe was going too deep, but there was a nice “thunk” sort of sound every time the axe embedded into her. I even felt the soft sinking sensation ripple into my hands, like the axe was a kind of physical extension of my sense of touch. On a whim, I swung once at her throat, but most of the swing actually missed and I hit the floor by accident, causing a loud, dull whack to resonate through the apartment. I didn’t have time to think about it. I swung again with better aim and got a more centered hit, feeling the bone or cartilage or whatever is in there, so I must have split it open. Right after that, I decided to swing at her face, and I got this diagonal cut along her nose and mouth, which felt pretty good so I did it once more. I finally briefly stopped to survey the damage. Linda was bleeding ridiculously. The blood was kind of coming out in waves, in sync with her beating heart, probably. It was pooling all around her and riding along the cracks between the tiles. Her light blue shirt was all torn up and stained dark, kind of mixed with a fleshy mess around her chest. It was all just glistening red. Her face wasn’t much better, covered in dripping red at this point, and her lip was kind of hanging off, revealing red-stained teeth in a really weird way, like a zombie or something. Linda wasn’t dead, though. Her limbs were kind of weakly, aimlessly trying to move while she was stuck on her back. More than anything, she reminded me of a bug that you crush but it still pitifully moves its legs around before it dies completely. That’s basically what she was doing. But I didn’t know how long it would take for her to die, or what kind of condition she was in. I ended up grabbing a big knife that was on the counter that she was using to cut up meat. Trying to step around the blood, I reached down and carved into the upper half of her neck, trying to sort of saw it from the left side to the right. It was a little awkward because the area was so soft and squished around the knife as I was cutting. But the sensation was completely different from the axe. It actually felt like I was cutting a tough piece of raw meat (which I guess technically, I was). The blood started pouring out, and I hoped that I severed the most major arteries in there. It must have worked, because after a moment Linda’s limb movements kind of just had the strength drained from them, soon resting still on the floor. I took a few seconds to catch my breath. No time to stick around and think about the experience. I shook the knife blade through a dirty pan in the sink to clean off the blood, then threw the knife into my backpack. I did the same with the axe. I also took her laptop that was sitting on the counter. It had some recipe open for veal and mushrooms. I didn’t really take the laptop to use it, since I have a perfectly good one myself that I got for college. I just wanted to look through it for fun. I finally went outside and closed the door behind me. I got some blood on my sweater and jeans. But funnily enough, I actually anticipated that so I wore dark colors. The drive back to my dorm was just a constant replaying of the experience in my head. I guess that’s still kind of happening even now, actually. But it felt pretty nice. Linda Watson is dead. I kind of let the weight of that sink in. The sensation of having completely removed a human life from existence. It’s crazy. I don’t know how else to describe it. Anyway, I threw the axe and knife into a dumpster on campus, which I think is picked up every Monday, so they’ll be gone by then. My roommate goes home on the weekends, so I have the dorm to myself today. It gave me the chance to go through Linda’s website history. I was right in thinking that’s where her deepest secrets would lie. There was actually a lot of dirty stuff, like the names of websites for porn videos and stories and things like that. Same with her searches. A lot of the websites were boring, like cooking websites and recipes, and game websites like Bejeweled and stuff. I eventually got to the “one week ago” section of her history, and it gave me a chill. There were a whole bunch of searches like “methods of suicide”, “how to tie a noose”, “dangerous household chemicals”, “carbon monoxide poisoning” - like a lot of them. She was probably ready to write a book on suicide after all the research she did. So I guess Linda was contemplating suicide. I wonder if it was influenced by her depression. The irony is actually striking. Maybe Linda was going to die anyway. Or maybe she couldn’t find the courage to do it. If that were the case, I almost literally gave her a birthday present by killing her. That’s actually really comical in a messed-up way, and it leaves a weird taste in my mouth. The part I don’t get is that I didn’t see any of those searches up until the “one week ago” section, nothing more recent than that. I ended up throwing the laptop in the dumpster with the other stuff. It’s been a few hours since then, so I’ve had some time to calmly think about everything. Like I said, it was pretty satisfying and I’m glad I finally got around to it. I feel like I can finally cross it off my bucket list, or like I’m tying loose ends with myself. This is probably the first and last time I’ll write the name Linda Watson - it’s back to living a normal college life, except I might do some people-watching every now and then because it’s definitely fun and interesting. But I’ll always wonder how many people there are like me. I’m sure there has to be a lot, because there is just nothing strange about it to me, being curious about killing someone. Sadly, it’s something that people can’t exactly just talk about, so I guess I’ll never know. I’m sure that anyone would just lie about it even if you asked them. But you can’t help but wonder if that person in the grocery store, who stares at you as you pass by, might be considering what it would be like to kill you. If I could, I would tell them all about it, so they could decide for themselves. But who knows, maybe I got lucky, and that person is you. I actually really, really hope so. ~♥"

Natsuki's ".chr" file Decoded:

We haven't figured this one out yet, but we have a few ideas. Note the image is seamless horizontally.

When we opened Natsuki's ".chr" file we again noticed it looked like an image file. We simply renamed the file extension to ".png" or ".jfif" to get the image below.

     The above may have already been documented/decoded. I would like to note that not all of the character files were encoded with Base64.

Thank you for reading, even though it may have already been done.

[mcjour]

ahhhhhhhhh

ok so i’ve been applying all over for jobs which is such a horrible process. hate writing cover letters and filling in employment history and then having to talk to strangers and bla bla bla

SO

anyway i had TWO interviews this week!

the first one was for the district in the next town over. i didn’t apply to any jobs that i wouldn’t be happy at, but honestly it’s probably a last choice in the sense that it pays significantly less than anywhere else in the area. Just $15/hr. which isn’t the WORST i’ve seen, but still... not great.. at all...

but i went and interviewed with an assistant principal and she was very nice and made her schools seem really great! like i walked away being like ok i kinda wanna work here LOL. 

i think the interview went well overall. but... in retrospect there are definitely some questions i could’ve answered a lot better than i did. maybe some cringey answers. BUT also nothing i would consider BAD either, if that makes sense. Like certainly not the best job I could’ve done, but overall felt satisifed. I mean, I also need to be fair to myself that this was my first interview in years, and after (well, during) a freaking pandemic, and after leaving my last job in such a traumatic way. And like just anxiety in general! So like, yes I definitely could have done a lot better, but considering I left feeling satisfied, like I am proud of myself for how it went really. 

Plus, she seemed responsive and interested in what I was saying, which seems like a good sign? But like she totally just could’ve been a nice lady with a poker face LOL

Do I think I will get an offer??? Ehhhhhh..... I guess it depends on how many other applicants/ open positions. Like, I could see it going either way. I definitely didn’t bomb the interview, so I wouldn’t say an automatic no. But I could definitely imagine other people could have interviewed much better than I did. And if they were only looking to fill one position, well, I’m out. 

And so, like I said, since they pay the least amount of money, like, I wouldn’t be super hurt if I didn’t get the offer. Like I hope to get a better position so like I’m hoping I wouldn’t end up there anyway! But, if I did get the offer, maybe I’d take it....

Anyway, the interview was Monday and she did say they were aiming for this week ~either way~ and now tomorrow (today) is Friday, so I wonder if I will hear back (either way) today

My second interview...... 

So after my first interview, I made sure to practice extra hard. I mean, I did practice for the first interview a lot too (meaning coming up with different stories/ scenarios for frequently asked questions), but after that one I was like “oh I could’ve said something better for that question” sort of a thing.

So I had all these great stories lined up and ready to go and I was so ready to use them and make me sound great

But.... she didn’t ask any questions like that!!!!!!! 

They were really such flat questions like “what do you do if 8 students need your help?” “you might be pulled to sub is that ok?” like HUH????????????

How am I supposed to make myself sound good with questions like that LMAOOOOOO

(and... how is she supposed to make a decision with questions like that LOL)

But honestly, I did do a good job, I think. Like I think I gave solid answers to every question, don’t think I said anything too cringey or anything. The pulled to sub question could easily have been a flop if I was just like “yeah” (LOL) but I told a story about how my partner teacher would disappear and i would take over the class on the fly. that kind of a thing. was proud of that.

so i walked out feeling pretty confident.

okay plus she started interviews on wednesday (mine was that day). she said she had two more the following day (which made it seem like mine was the last of the day). and then would hope to get back to people on friday. (AHHHHH! I FIND OUT TOMORROW/ TODAY).

and so i was kinda doing the math where i was like okay... my interview was at 1:30pm... she couldn’t have had TOO many before me....  she must’ve allowed herself a lunch break at some point, and when i got to the school she was finishing up a completely unrelated math meeting online. so she must’ve not just been doing interviews that whole time. i wanna say maybe max 6 other interviews that day if she started around 9, went to 12, one every half hour. but i am doubting that she packed them in like that, like i said. but that would make 9 applicants MAX, probably less. And she said there were 3 open positions across both her schools. and she asked if i wanted to be considered for both schools. So that gives me a 1 in 3 chance (or better depending on the actual number of applicants! maybe 1 in 2 chance lol. or if any of the applicants did not want to be considered for both jobs, but one vs the other). so i was feeling pretty good!!!! like decent ratio and a good interview things are looking good! (i mean you hear about jobs that get hundreds of applicants for a single position! these odds are p good!)

BUT still like i wish she asked me different questions. i don’t feel like i fully really expressed who i am to her. like if she had asked me more than i would’ve felt more confident that she would have seen more of my strengths and stuff. like i said, the questions she did ask were kinda flat, and while i think i answered them well, i wasn’t given a lot to work with. that said, i assume she asked the same questions to everyone, so i assume everyone else kinda had that issue, so idk how she is making a decision based off that!

especially given this: i gave her a copy of my resume and she said she really appreciated that because the website the district uses for the applications like is hard to use or messes things up or somehting. which, okay. that worries me a little bit... because i hope she can access my cover letter, my references, etc... because those add a LOT to the picture. like LMAO if she went off of my interview and resume alone...well...ew. i really hope she logs back in and reviews the WHOLE application.

So i’m kinda thinking ewwwwww maybe there was more I could’ve done somehow idk

LOL maybe print out my entire packet HAHA

jk would that have been weird? I would’ve felt weird. but maybe she would’ve liked that haha

the first interview lady actually had all of my stuff printed for the interview (i offered her a resume copy and she’s like oh i actually printed it myself and she had like this thick packet of ALL the stuff)

idk i really loved this school. like on paper it seemed perfect for many reasons, and then when i spoke to the principal it still seemed great, maybe even better than i thought. so like UGH this is my dream school. i want this job so bad! but like, i’m afraid to allow myself to get excited about it. like ... i don’t want to be disappointed. also like just in general there is no need for me to romanticize a JOB 

okay right after the interview i felt so confident like omg yes i am so excited and i am going to get this job!!!! but now the next day i am like... ugh... no way will i get this job... i never get anything i want, so the rejection is inevitable... like... can there really be no healthy middle thinking for me jfc. 

i will say there was one red flag in that i was like oh it seems like you have a very tight knit community here and shes like oh yes we are like a family! and like !!!! those are some red flag words honey!!!!! don’t say that. but like.... idk how to describe it. it felt genuine and not exploity? not that you can tell that from an interview. but like it seems like everyone has been working there forever and loves it kind of a thing. i mean, if i get the job, i won’t let my guard down on that shit. but it’s not concerning enough to stop me either.

one thing i am a LITTLE worried about is that idk when this lady planned on checking references (if at all). like did she do that thursday or is she planning on friday? because part of me secetly hoped that she would call my references today and they would’ve texted me being like omg! but they didn’t. and so that is kinda like “...oh.” But like i said, she very well could be calling tomorrow. ALSO worth considering is that two of my 3 references actually uploaded letters into the system. So she really doesn’t even ~need~ to call them unless she had specific questions (or wanted to talk to the 3rd reference LOL). so like... i really do not need to be stressing out about this specific thing at all... and yet....

also.... ugh... there are stuff that are just about me that i worry about. like ok, i am visibly queer with a shaved head. while i’d hope that an interviewer would not be prejudiced.... they easily could be. there really aren’t enough queer people in education, it’s a very homogenous field of straight, often wealthy, white women. i do have white privilege but otherwise i really don’t fit the image, so idk. also one of my references did use they/them pronouns in their reference letter and i feel like that could be a huge red flag to someone. granted i suppose i wouldn’t want to work for someone like that, and i also don’t care enough to asks my friend to misgender me, but still, it’s something i wonder about. another thing is that i talk with my hands a lot, and i am sure i did even more given that i was nervous......... i don’t think that is an issue necessarily but i was definitely self conscious about it like geez i hope i wasn’t waving my hands out of control LOL. and then another thing is that i HATE eye contact, like i just can’t do it. And I think I did a great job of holding eye contact, all things considered. but I definitely did look away a bit, particularly when i was thinking. I think it was fine and not an unreasonable amount of looking away, but now i am getting paranoid like oops maybe i looked away too much or something!!! i mean, i would hate if a job offer came down to something trivial like that, but... idk

another thing i wonder is the other applicants. like i said before.. it doesn’t really matter if i am a great applicant, it doesn’t guarantee anything if there was someone even slightly better. doesn’t mean i suck or anything. of course, that still wouldn’t take the sting off. ANYWAY the part i wonder most about though is where are these other people applying? by that i mean like what if my first choice school is actually someone else’s last choice school? do the other applicants also have other interviews and offers to weigh? So like, what if she offers someone a job but they are like sorry no thanks (for whatever reason, whether they accepted another position elsewhere, saw a red flag in the interview, or whatever it may be). like what if i was 4th choice for the 3 positions or something. would the job go to me?? when would i find this out? like, it’s weird to state that you will find out friday ~either way~ when i feel like you would need some time for the other people to accept (god forbid the call goes to voicemail even!). like i feel like most jobs wouldn’t be like “you’re waitlisted” LOL (i will say i did get a job off a waitlist once so i know it’s possible, but that doesn’t seem likely here LOL). maybe she didn’t say friday either way, and just ~friday~. maybe friday is for acceptances and flat out rejections and if you don’t hear friday you’re waitlisted LOL. or maybe she said she would make the decision fridayy but that doesn’t mean she’s actually reaching out friday? (ok i doubt she said that LOL)

plus are we talking like oh first thing friday she’s making the calls or is she gonna pull at 4:59pm thing like a lot of places do LOL. I don’t think that makes sense but maybe? I mean, when she offered me an interview, the time stamp on the email said like 8:39am or some shit, so i think this lady is on the ball in the mornings. but like i said, maybe she is still tying it all together friday morning, after all, she is moving through this very fast. 

hopefully i hear good news today but i guess we will just  wait and see.

if it’s only bad/no news, there are still some schools i haven’t heard from, and some more i can apply to. i just want to wrap this process up sooner rather than later.

lastly, i need to remember if worst comes to worse, i could always apply to my old school (meaning the one i worked at before, not the one i attended lol. although i guess i could also apply there, i just don’t like the position they have open right now). i am pretty dang sure they would take me (they always need somebody!) plus i know the ropes, know i would be happy and fit in there (not to mention my friends are there LOL). i hope it doesn’t come to that, after all the pay SUCKS lol. but it’s not world ending if i don’t get the jobs.

[your-dietician]

King County Council candidate responds to criticism over 2010 arrest for school bus threats

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/king-county-council-candidate-responds-to-criticism-over-2010-arrest-for-school-bus-threats/

King County Council candidate responds to criticism over 2010 arrest for school bus threats

It was an incident that would have ended many political aspirations.

The morning of Jan. 12, 2010, current King County Council candidate Ubax Gardheere boarded a Highline School District bus carrying middle school kids — and raised a scene.

She yelled at the students about the U.S. and Somalia, according to a King County Sheriff’s deputy report, and said they should stay calm because she could have a bomb or gun on her. She called them cowards — at least one student said she called them “white cowards” — when they tried to escape.

Gardheere had no such weapons. She didn’t even have her wallet that morning, she told the Courier-Herald recently. Sleep-deprived, struggling with postpartum depression and processing a traumatic trip overseas, Gardheere broke down that morning and did what she thought would put her in jail, where she thought she’d be safe. She held the bus up for about 13 minutes before a deputy arrested her.

Local media reported on the incident at the time. But in deciding this year to run for Position 9 on the Metropolitan King County Council, which includes the Enumclaw Plateau, Gardheere considered it would come up again.

“Before I decided running, I knew something like this would happen,” Gardheere said. “It’s something that’s out there, that happened in a public way.”

She was right. On June 10, an article published in online Canadian news magazine The Post Millennial detailed the incident. Fox News published its own article the following day as the story caught national attention.

Critics raised more than a few concerns: Is someone who terrified and threatened kids with talk of a bomb or gun fit for public office? Did her statements belie racist bias or resentment for the U.S.? And what does she think of her actions now?

Gardheere, currently the equitable development division director at the City of Seattle Office of Planning and Community Development, said she’s processed what happened that day in therapy. She pleaded guilty and served time in jail over it.

Her words that day don’t represent her beliefs, Gardheere said — they were the ramblings of someone in crisis trying to say whatever they could to be taken to a jail.

In an interview with the Courier-Herald, Gardheere said she’s only human and can’t promise she won’t ever have a breakdown again. But she said she’s developed tools to stop things from boiling over like they did in 2010. And the revival of the controversy has only energized her campaign for office, she said.

“I have gone through so much healing and surrounded myself with people who have … gone through that and come out on the other side, too,” Gardheere said. “I’m not going to say like any other politician, ‘I’m going to make sure this never happens again.’ Because I don’t know. It’s a health crisis. Are you going to tell folks that you’re never, ever, going to have a heart attack?”

A terrifying ordeal

Police reports from the Jan. 12, 2010, incident paint a disturbing and chaotic scene. Surveillance footage of the incident shared by Seattle talk radio host and journalist Ari Hoffman, author of the June 10 article, corroborates much of the law enforcement account.

According to a probable cause document by the King County Sheriff’s Office, Gardheere around 7:30 a.m. boarded a school bus, bound for Chinook Middle School, after it had stopped to allow students to board.

Gardheere told the driver to call his dispatcher and report a “national security incident” and said she wouldn’t leave the bus until police came, according to the footage. She raised her voice and began talking about the U.S. – Somalia relationship to the children on board, some of whom yelled back at her to leave. The detective wrote that “more than one student reported her saying that Americans were bad people.”

Prosecutors wrote in a bail request at the time that Gardheere told fleeing students “they would be responsible if something happened to their classmates.”

In audio recordings from the bus, Gardheere told the children: “You need to calm yourselves down ‘cause I could have a bomb. Look how loose my clothes are,” and that she could also have a gun. She told the children to call their parents, the detective said.

Some students at the back of the bus opened an emergency exit and jumped out of the bus. Gardheere then ordered the students to shut the door and called them “cowards,” the detective wrote, with at least one student reporting they were called “white cowards.”

The entire incident lasted around 13 minutes. Around 7:41 a.m., a deputy arrived and took her off the bus. Her last words in the recording — spoken to the students as she walks off the bus — aren’t completely audible, but appear to be “Sorry. I apologize.”

Gardheere initially faced felony charges, but ultimately pleaded guilty to two counts of misdemeanor harassment.

When she boarded the bus, Gardheere said, she was in the middle of a mental breakdown, having gone a week without getting any decent sleep prior to that morning, and she said she can’t recall much of what she said or did during the incident.

Gardheere knows her thought process at the time “(did) not make sense,” and said she was not proud of herself after returning to her senses.

“I left the house that morning — my mind blank, or whatever it was — after not sleeping for a long time,” Gardheere said. “And just walked to the bus stop … in my mind trying to figure out a place where I could be safe, which is crazy.”

That place, she figured at the time, was in a jail. It was an irrational and self-destructive plan, but it worked. Gardheere spent two or three days after the incident in jail, she said.

Gardheere told the Seattle Weekly in 2010 that she’d been hospitalized for mental illness, including postpartum depression, after giving birth to her oldest son three years prior.

Her mental state worsened after a traumatizing incident during a visit to Dubai in 2008, and while trying to report the incident, she said she was beaten up by police.

“I’m thinking in my head, ‘what can I say or do that will get you taken to jail instead of a mental institute?’” Gardheere told Seattle Weekly in 2010.

Something that Monday finally snapped, she said, and she experienced a break from her own rational decision-making.

“Breakdown, crisis, whatever it was — normally how I describe it to folks is: It’s like I’m watching myself, watching this person saying stuff,” Gardheere told the Courier-Herald.

Renewed scrutiny

Gardheere has faced criticism in part over how she’s characterized the incident. She told the Seattle Weekly and the Courier-Herald that she’d sought jail out in the first place.

But Gardheere said in an interview with the South Seattle Emerald in June 2021 that she’d been “criminalized” for her breakdown and went on to criticize more generally the “failed strategies” used in policing and incarceration in the United States.

“When people have mental health breakdowns … they should not go to jail,” Gardheere said. “There should be other places where people are taken to and helped. That’s what I meant by that. I think our criminal justice system disproportionately impacts people that look like me, and my kids. I’m not saying this to excuse what, knowingly or unknowingly, I did that day. But I pleaded guilty. I took responsibility for it. I did community service, paid the fines.”

On the day the Fox News story ran, Gardheere woke up to a swarm of activity on her social media accounts. She had plans in Tacoma with her family that morning, so she removed Twitter from her phone, checked in with a campaign consultant and went on with her day.

Her campaign team was concerned for Gardheere’s safety, but Gardheere initially felt the vitriol was simply a “distraction” from her campaign fueled by right-wing media.

Her attitude changed when one of those callers got through to her daughter, who was playing with Gardheere’s phone, and started screaming at the girl. Gardheere met with her team afterward to set out a safety plan and took her children to stay with her mom for a weekend.

“Send that terrorist n——r back to her f——-g country in a plastic bag,” one caller said in a voicemail she shared with the Courier-Herald.

Gardheere said at one point, she was “pissed off” by how she, a Black Muslim woman, was painted as radical and un-American.

“I’ve been here for 25 years,” Gardheere said. “I went to high school here. … You don’t get to paint me as un-American. I’m as American as anyone in this country, anybody in this race, anybody in this city, this district.”

But how does that square with her comments about “white cowards” and ranting about the U.S.? Gardheere said her statements that day don’t reveal any internal bias or hatred.

“I said a lot of stuff,” Gardheere said. “(I might tell) my husband ‘You’re an idiot.’ Does that mean that I believe he was an idiot? … You’re having a breakdown, and you don’t know where it came from. I do not have any bias toward any race, religion, group of people.”

And she doesn’t hate America, Gardheere said.

“America is one of the only places that has been my home,” she said. “I’ve lived here 25 years. I got an amazing education. My children were born here … and honestly, I believe I’m more American than I am Somali. When I go there … they will tell me ‘You’re talking like an American.’”

Gardheere added that her family, friends, and the people she goes camping with are “white, Asian, every color.”

More than a decade later, Gardheere, unsurprisingly, doesn’t like revisiting that January 2010 day. But she said it’s been necessary for her to heal, process her own trauma and better understand the mental health crises that others go through.

“I have to go there with my therapist,” Gardheere said. “I had to go there with my lawyer. … We’re all a work in progress. You have to be better than the person you were yesterday.”

Voters may still be concerned about whether, given her actions that day, Gardheere is a good fit for office. Along with working through the internal pain that caused her breakdown, Gardheere said she’s also built personal strength and a system to prevent another crisis.

“For me, it’s recognizing those signs,” Gardheere said. “The first phone call I make when I don’t sleep for 48 hours is my doctor … and (I’m) surrounding myself with amazing, supportive folks. �� I became a single mom in August 2011. Ten years, I’ve not only been raising three kids by myself, but I’ve been really impacting systems in a huge way.”

Her mom is one of those supportive folks — someone she can count on to take care of the kids for a day or two if Gardheere, stressed by work and pandemic isolation, needs time for herself. And she said she takes solace in meditation, her faith and therapy, which she said will be a continuous process.

Race for the 9th District

Rather than discourage her, the 2010 incident and Gardheere’s journey in bolstering her mental health contributed to her decision to run for King County Council, she said.

Gardheere has seen close friends die by suicide after suffering isolation during the COVID-19 pandemic. “As a country, and as a state, and as a county, we are collectively struggling” from a lack of housing, economic mobility and other struggles that are front-and-center in the council race, she said, and that puts pressure on each person’s mental health.

Gardheere faces three other candidates in the race for the District 9 seat on the King County Metropolitan Council, which covers parts of Bellevue, Kent, Renton, and all of Newcastle, Maple Valley, Covington, Black Diamond and Enumclaw, as well as a large amount of unincorporated southeast King County. Gardheere is confident in her campaign and talks about “when I win,” not “if I win.”

But she faces an uphill battle in the race — and advancing past the primary will surely put more of a spotlight on her.

District 9 is one of the most conservative districts in the county, and four-term Republican incumbent Reagan Dunn has won each of his elections by 15 or more percentage points. Gardheere has also raised the least campaign contributions of the candidates, according to state Public Disclosure Commission filings.

Dunn said that, serious as Gardheere’s actions were that day, she deserves compassion.

“The children on the bus were terrified, but it was also a long time ago, and I think we need to have compassion for people that suffer from any kind of behavioral health challenge,” Dunn said. “That is why I think it’s important that it be taken in the context of something that happened 11 years ago. We should be looking at what’s happened in the intervening years. I think she still has the opportunity to use her voice to advocate for those who suffer from postpartum depression.”

Dunn said he sees a connection between Gardheere’s breakdown and his own well-publicized 2014 DUI that landed him on the front page of the local section of The Seattle Times. Dunn, who had his last drink in 2017, has sought to use his public battle with alcoholism to educate and share resources with others, like in a conference on addiction disorders he organized last April.

“I’ve seen people make mistakes in their life … and for me, a recovering alcoholic, with years of sobriety, I have developed an enormous compassion for those who have behavioral health challenges,” Dunn said. “I just don’t believe that you can judge somebody based on something that happened in the past and something that they’re working on. I’m just not going to go down the road of attacking somebody for one of these one-off or two-off situations.”

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[bleederziine]

“I’m Compelled To Do It”; an Interview w/Lisa Jane Persky, Photographer, Writer, and Artist

In high school I was going to move to New York and grab the city by its throat. I was going to have at least 500 friends, own a punky couture boutique, and hold gothic open mics there every night and maybe date a Stroke for a few months. My imagination was like an entire universe of different identities, with tiny planets for NYC, Paris, 90s Seattle, 20s Greenwich Village. My favorite magazine was Pitchfork Review, and when I read Lisa Jane Persky’s piece, “X Offenders: A Typical Day in the Life of an NYC Proto Punk”, I got really jealous of her and then I got over that and wanted to know more. So I sent her a pouring my heart out email about how boring my neighborhood was, and how her story gave me hope for my own “New York story.” Sappy, right? Also, it was likely the truest thing I had ever written, before or since. As an over emotional messy artist, I’ve learned that the only way for me to get anything done is to rip open my heart and be as (healthily!) vulnerable as I can. In my experience, this has led me to knit a sweater for my favorite lead singer (Luke of the Walters) throw pads at Mario of the Orwells, and interview one of the coolest people I know.

Hi Lisa! How are you?

Lisa Jane Persky: I’m fine, just doing so many things at once! How are you?

I’m good! What are you working on right now?

LJP: I’m going to do a ten-day residency in London in June with my friends at Underground, a subculture inspired brand that makes some cool favorite stuff of mine. We found each other in 2015 and have been plotting something to do together ever since. June is Music Month in the UK and the residency will first of all be a show of my early photography, mostly of the Blondie days, and CBGB's time, really early, like 74-75. Along with that I’m programming various events, so different artists will come, DJs, musicians, underground comic book illustrators, all along the lines of subculture and music.

What made you want to photograph Blondie, since you were already familiar with them as friends?

LJP: Mostly it was access to a camera! I had a camera my dad used to use, and the band was just so cool looking, and I was going out with Gary Valentine at the time. Chris and Debbie were living in my friends loft, which is now known as the Blondie loft on the Bowery, where the band also rehearsed, and up there on the fourth floor was a big, torn white backdrop for portraits. It all started with an *official* session where I took 5 rolls of film in the loft, and those were pretty cool so I just kept going.

What is a good picture to you?

LJP: I like looking at people, studying them and observing what they do. When I shoot portraits we create an atmosphere together. I try to make a comfortable space for the subject to play, to be who they are with me, in spite of my lens I really enjoy seeing that, and the collaboration of it. It has to mean

something to me and I try to frame in the camera, and not edit it later. My eyes really were the frame then. Everyone looks so beautiful, was so young. When you’re young, you think, “we’re all so that!” And they were. Debbie’s a beautiful woman. She makes a picture look good, without much effort. I’m all

about making Instagram a place for my work right now. I like the shooting for that square shape. I love seeing other people’s photography evolve there.

Who were some of your other musical subjects?

LJP: I photographed Martin Rev of Suicide, I did a series on keyboard players, Cherry Vanilla’s, Zecca, and Richard Sohl, Patti Smith’s keyboard player, Kristian Hoffman of the Mumps, Lance Loud and the other Mumps, The Fast, mostly my friends and mostly portraits. I prefer to see live music rather than photograph it.

Yeah! I photograph shows sometimes and I prefer to ask to take pictures of the band after because I feel like the subject will give me more than when they’re thinking I’m just an anonymous photographer. What motivates you as an artist?

LJP: I’m compelled to do it, I want to do it. That said, writing is harder for me than all the other things I do. I’m not really sure why. I think it’s because there’s a loneliness to it that the others don’t have. Even when I’m out photographing my landscapes, which I call Lonescapes because there are no people in them, I never feel lonely. But there’s some kind of foreboding loneliness in writing that keeps me away from it. But I love having written, which is how most people probably feel.

”The picture of me is a photo booth pic. I’m wearing an Eagle’s Nest T-Shirt. The Eagle’s Nest was a gay hardcore leather bar in the Meatpacking District (no girls allowed) and their symbol was that Eagle on the shirt, which is the eagle that in part inspired Arturo Vega to design the Ramones Eagle. There are all kinds of other stories out there about Arturo's art but he loved America and being in it, had a great sense of humor about its hypocrisies. The Bicentennial was coming up and that was a very big deal in New York City with sailors from the fancy wooden Tall Ships arriving and all. Anyway, I thought you might like to see that and know about it. The Eagle's Nest is now called The Eagle and it has moved uptown from its old location.”

What do you get out of making art?

LJP: The most important thing is what connects me to different people. I like being able to be in the world with others to share stories with people who aren’t necessarily like myself. Each of these things I do connects me to others in different ways. I value that, making and having friends and exploring the world through art and music together more than anything. But I also have no idea what else I’d do. I really don’t.

So the way we met online was through me reading your piece in Pitchfork; what made you want to write that?

LJP: Every year my husband and I go to a conference that highlights music writing of all types, a very eclectic mix of people and papers, and I one year presented a paper on my interview with the Ramones, which I did the day after their first record came out. And then I wanted to write another paper, since everyone had been asking me, “what was it like back then?” And I had read something Tommy Dean (Mills), who owned Max’s at that time in the 70s had said in an interview. He said that all the girls who came to the club with or to see the bands back then were either hookers or groupies. And I read that and it made me really mad, because all of us had been working our tails off, we were not hookers or groupies! Not that there is anything wrong with being a hooker or groupie, it’s just that way he characterized all the women. It said more about him than us but that quote coupled with people asking what it was like, made me decide to write what it was like for me. So I wrote that and presented it at the conference, and used photos I had or had taken or found that went with the text, so people could get a three dimensional look at what a day in the life in downtown New York back then was like.

What was writing for the New York Rocker like?

LJP: Well, that is why I was interested in what you’re doing, because it’s very similar. It was just a bunch of us going to these shows. Early on there was hardly anyone going, just us, the people in the bands and the neighborhood, other artists, our friends and then Alan Betrock. He was older and always a superfan of rock music, especially pop and girl groups. He had a zine before there were zines. I don't know what you'd call them but it was amateur publishing by smart people and he and others like Greg Shaw would

write to each other about records newsletter style sometimes on mimeograph paper because they didn’t even have Xerox machines then and they’d snail-mail it around because it was the only way. So he showed up and we knew he was a kind of force and then it was like “Lets have a newspaper!” and he gave birth to New York Rocker with us as his staff and we wrote about each other and it was much more representative of the downtown music scene in the early '70s than PUNK magazine was. PUNK magazine was great but was its own more specific world.

What do you think was the most interesting thing one of these musicians said to you?

LJP: One of my favorite answers, when I asked the Ramones in July of 1976 what they liked to do when they weren’t making music, they all agreed, and I think it was Johnny who said it, “we like to hang out in stairwells.” And he wasn’t kidding; they liked to hang out in stairwells in Queens. One of the things that was good about being there and these early interviews was you got an idea of who everyone was in an unguarded way except for Patti Smith who always seemed strategic and cautious. It was before anyone else there was famous or known, and no one knew whether they were going to be anyone or not. We were all hanging out with our pants down, there was no hiding going on.

What do you think were punk’s biggest inspirations back then?

LJP: In the beginning, they were all pop bands, really. Everyone really liked pop, and everyone was a fan of real rock n roll, and what we heard on the radio was more like Bread and yacht rock before it was called that, and it didn’t feel like what we grew up with and times were tough and a lot of us were just furious, had a ton of energy that needed an outlet. And then, too, we all liked glam. These things, the pop sensibility, the love of glam and the performative aspects of that and the furious energy was the most visible, in many of the Max's and CBGB'S bands 74-76. In 76 the Sex Pistols who had been influenced by The Ramones but had their own kind of fury and other UK bands started to have an effect. There was a lot of discussion, which I wrote about in the New York Rocker and the LA Weekly, about whether our New York music was punk. And we didn’t think so. We were, most of us, a bunch of punk kids but Punk wasn’t a good moniker for most NY bands.

A lot of your Pitchfork article was also about your acting career. How did you get into acting?

LJP: Yeah, that article was about the time when you could still get an apartment for $65 a month in Greenwich Village. There was a lot of experimental theater in the neighborhood, and this guy who lived in my building was a wonderful, known playwright and all around character in The Village named Harry (H.M. Koutoukas), and he came up to me on the street one day and said, “Darling I've written a play for you. Rehearsals start on Sunday. The pay is $25 a week. I’m sending someone to pick you up.” And I didn’t really have anything better to do, I wasn’t sure what I was doing. It was right after I graduated from high school. The guy he sent to pick me up, came to my apartment, walked me from there to the East Village to La Mama Experimental Theater Club and we started rehearsals, and that got my career started. I was enthusiastic and had a passion for it and even more important, I got laughs. The guy who picked me up and walked me to the first rehearsal of the play was the same person who let Chris and Debbie move into the loft on the Bowery with him. The theaters I worked in were right around the corner from CBGB’s so it was convenient to go to shows after I’d perform. The acting part of my career went on until about 2005. I haven’t done much of it since then but I'd welcome the opportunity to play some juicy part with fun people.

What was your favorite acting role? LJP: Well, that’s a hard question to answer because I’d almost always think, “this is the best job, this is the most fun I’ve ever had!” I loved the film The Big Easy, because I had worked with the director Jim McBride before, and we knew each other pretty well. And there was a preponderance of male characters in that script and I said to him, “you should make one of these detectives a woman. It would be so much more interesting.” We had to convince the producer, and we did, and I basically got to write my own role. And you were in the Golden Girls! What was that like? LJP: Well, those ladies are pretty amazing and admirable, as you might imagine. Bea didn’t like to talk very much. She would come in every morning and say “good morning everyone” and not really talk to anyone all day, unless she had a note for you about your performance. It was quite odd. It was fun, but there were more fun jobs. It was more fun to watch them work. What music/art/other stuff do you like today? LJP: Theres a band called Shame that’s from the UK, and they just put out a record called Songs of Praise. I’ve seen them live and they’re fantastic. They have the spirit that I saw back then, in the mid 70s from all the punk bands that we didn’t call punk. I love Mary Epworth who is putting her own unique ethereal spin on psychedelia. She has a beautiful voice. I love so many artists and musicians that I don’t know where to start listing but I’ll tell you this, at any given time you might find me listening to Rhys Chatham’s Guitar Trio Is My Life! I’ve been listening to Simple Minds again lately. I like Orwells, who I learned about from you. When I was growing up I was the only girl that I knew who had a record player and records. My father worked at a newspaper, so I got a lot of free records. My stepfather was a violinist and he would buy me more experimental music. I always liked noise and I was the only girl I knew who liked prog, and I still like prog. I love Steven Wilson, from Porcupine Tree--but not Porcupine Tree. I like his prog band which goes by his name. I like his work in part because he writes interesting songs about women. No one’s really paid enough attention to that. Prog is leaving behind it’s reputation as a masculine ghetto. Someone needs to write about it. Maybe me, but I haven’t gotten around to that.

Interview by Chloe Graham

All Images Courtesy of Lisa Jane Persky

[canaya96]

On my first day in Iceland, I rode the bus from the Keflavík airport to Reykjavík. Along the way, the bus driver mentioned several interesting places I should visit, as he pointed beyond the vast volcanic landscape that enveloped the main highway on either side. He said this was the site of a big construction controversy. He explained a road had been proposed to ease the commute from the Álftanes peninsula to Gardabaer, a suburb of Reykjavík. But the project was interrupted because a rock that was proposed to be move, was a home for elves. Now, I was doing quite well with this gentleman’s Polish accent, but I had to ask for confirmation, “Did you say elves?” “Yes, elves,” he replied. And that was my first exposure to the rich and colorful folklore of Iceland.

A month later, I was on a Reykjavík city tour and our tour guide kept mentioning areas of the city that were linked with the elves (again, with the elves). I have come to learn that elves, in fact, are a part of the Icelandic culture and are known to wreak havoc when disturbed. As a result, elf mitigation has now become a business in Iceland. For example, the builders of the Kárahnjukastífla dam in eastern Iceland hired an elf consultant. The clairvoyant consultant is used to act as a mediator between the Hundufólk (hidden people, as elves are known) and humans to prevent any problems when elfin homes or churches must be moved. This use of a clairvoyant stems from problems that have occurred in the past when elves were not considered.

Careful, any large rock could be a home for elves!

Enchanting, moss-covered landscape

In 2015, workers were called to clear mud on a highway caused by heavy rainfall. From the beginning, a series of unfortunate events plagued the project including work injuries, broken machinery, and further flooding as workers continued to remove mud from the road. It turns out, they were dumping mud onto a large rock in the vicinity known as the Elfin Lady Stone, or Álfkonusteinn. To some, these unfortunate events might be the result of dangers associated with construction projects, but for others, the incidents are a result of what happens when the human world collides with the elf world.

It seemed that during my first few months in Iceland, elves continued to pop up. So, I started searching the internet and learned about “Elf School”. What does one learn at Elf School? I had to find out! According to their website, elf school is where attendees can learn “everything that is known about elves and hidden people, as well as gnomes, dwarfs, fairies, trolls…and mythical beings in Iceland and in other countries.” The website also claims we will learn “about hundreds of Icelanders that have had personal contact with elves.” You are also enticed with the promise of a diploma and traditional Icelandic food for the low price of $64. Because I love acquiring certificates and I was exited to share elves on my blog, I would be happy to pay my tuition.

The school is in a business district a few kilometers east of downtown Reykjavík. As I walked to the main entrance, located at the top of a dark corridor, there was quite a bit of clutter spewing from the purple outline of the doorway. As I walked in, I took a quick scan of the room which appeared to look like the inside of someone’s house. In fact, the décor took me back, back to my grandmother’s house circa 1970’s. There were gnomes everywhere. As I proceeded through the dimly lit room, I noticed a large bearded gentleman sitting behind a counter. All I could think was “clutter”. Could this be the school? Was I in the right place? “You’re here for Elf School?” the man behind the counter asked. I quietly nodded still unconvinced I was in a school. As he collected my payment, the room was eerily quiet except for the humming of the credit card machine. I was handed my free book and told to take a seat while we wait for others to arrive. I entered a smaller room that contained two rows of chairs on either side of the room with a small table in the center. I squeezed through the rows of chairs taking a seat in back where I could quietly observe and take notes. Over the next 10 minutes people quietly trickled in. This did not look like a school. “Should I leave?” I thought. I could not make out the quiet murmurs, but I am pretty sure we were all noticing the cluttered walls donned with shelves containing various statues, pictures, and hints of elves. Maybe they wanted to leave, too. Altogether, the people quietly seated, the indifferent facial expressions, and the shifting eyes that contemplated why we are all here was reminiscent of waiting at a doctor’s office, dreading to hear the results of a test no one wants to take. I just did not get the sense that people were excited. Maybe it was shock and awe of being at a “school” that looked like we entered a time capsule; it even smelled like 1970, if that was possible. So, there we all sat quietly, waiting for the headmaster.

In all there were 12 attendees, a husband and wife team from public news radio in Germany, a U.S. couple from Arkansas, a student from the local university, four American tourists who were very happy to share their knowledge and interest in the supernatural, a couple of honeymooners, and myself. At last our headmaster arrived, wearing a large corduroy blazer draped over sweat pants. He claimed the classroom was upstairs, but we would all be more comfortable and intimate in this room; he probably spent too much time talking about the closeness of it all. It did not make me feel comfortable, quite the opposite, in fact. He started with pleasantries and welcomed everyone. Perhaps appealing to the majority of us who were American, he opened with his connection to Barrack Obama. The headmaster’s brother, a former member of the Icelandic Parliament, was asked by Obama if Icelanders believe in elves and does his brother really teach at elf school. This was the lead-in to Icelanders and their belief in elves-54%, in fact, believe in elves. But according to online reports, the 1998 poll showed 54.4% of respondents checked the box that they “do not deny the existence of elves”. In comparison, 8% said they believe in elves while 3% actually had an encounter; still quite a bit for a country of ~334,000 inhabitants (not including the elves). I think it’s time for another poll. The headmaster’s introduction went on for about 30 minutes and continued with Republican bashing, the trouble with American politics, etc. and it was apparent he was having a good time. The tone of the stories was slow and choppy. Maybe he was trying to create a dramatic tone using short sentences, followed by long dramatic pauses. During the pauses, it seemed the headmaster was elsewhere. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But I wanted to know what was coming next because I quickly realized there was a story to be had, not about elves, but about elf school. At some point I looked over to my Arkansas neighbors-he was asleep, she was playing games on her phone. I must admit, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. Throughout the next three hours, we repeatedly heard the statistics that 54.4% of Icelanders believe in elves and then he would tell a story to validate that statistic. In fact, he claimed, the reason he knows the stories are true is because each time he interviews people who have had run-ins with elves, they repeat the same story without changing details from year to year. He claimed, if people are lying, they will consistently change their stories. Sometimes, in between quiet pauses came completely off topic statements. “I should tell you I’m married, to a man”. “Do you know, schizophrenic people are clairvoyant? They are in two dimensions at the same time”. “By the way, did you notice the weather changes in Iceland”. More pauses, more short, choppy stories. Buddy, I think you are in another dimension, I thought. Things livened up a bit when a prop, I mean evidence, was passed around the group. It was a metal tea kettle, supposedly very, very old. It looked like the metal coffee pots used for camping. As it was passed to me, I looked for “Made in China” stamped into the bottom, but nothing and I mean nothing–no signs of use or wear, either. Other stories followed, mostly about lost children being saved by the elves during a snowstorm, an elf structure appearing and then disappearing. I wanted to know how others were feeling so during the 30-minute break, I asked a few people what they thought. I already knew how the four-supernatural fans felt because they were already making plans to meet with an elf clairvoyant. I could sense the Arkansas couple were quite angry- or maybe it was because they had to wake up for the break. I asked, “Is the school what you expected?” The response was quick, “NO! We thought it would be different because some of the reviews were good”. I meekly agreed but I was not disappointed with the experience because now I knew I had a story. The single woman (besides myself) was a student, she made it clear she was here to write an assignment for school, thwarting any ideas that she was here voluntarily. After break, the long, slow stories with intermittent pauses continued. “Hold on, you can make it”, I kept telling myself. As I mentally dozed away, I began to make a revelation. Now, from my point of view, the headmaster was sitting sideways so that I could see a complete, body profile. He looked so familiar; a white beard, wire-rimmed glasses, a big belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly when he laughed at his own jokes. “Santa?!” I thought, shifting in my seat, trying to hold back laughter. Hadn’t I heard Santa was king of the elves-or just an elf. He looks like Santa and he’s talking about elves! Does anyone else in the room notice this irony?

Sometimes, the landscape looks dark and macabre, perfect habitat for trolls and other legends.

Before coming to elf school, there were several people who warned me to save my money. My reply was that I needed to learn about elves so that I can share elves on my blog and besides, I will get a free book out of it. What I did learn during that very slow, backward-step-in-time experience, was that the story was the school itself and its headmaster, not the elves. Unfortunately, the elves were overshadowed, both in the school and in this story I am writing. But I will eventually talk more about elves and their connection to the land and Icelandic people.

Today, as I read the experience of others at elf school in blogs or reviews online, their experiences and the tales they heard during their class, appear to be the same. I would expect the headmaster to tell new stories, as more people have run-ins with elves, but the stories seem to have not changed over the years. In the end I did not learn anything during the 3.5-hours I lost. I have learned more reading on the internet or reading the tales presented in Icelandic folklore books. At the end of class, the experience got even weirder when the headmaster proposed we all get naked and take a group picture. In all, the word naked was used three times. If you read online reviews and blogs, you will find this is a common theme, some inappropriate request followed by uncomfortable silence. In the end, we did not learn “everything about elves” or stories from “hundreds of people” as the website claimed. What I did get was a good laugh and an experience.

The volcanic landscape around Lake Myvatn makes a great backdrop for Icelandic folktales.

  Dimmuborgir, featured in Game of Thrones, is said to be the home of the 13 Yule Lads who are another group deeply rooted in Icelandic folklore.

  Just another picture to demonstrate the enchantment of Iceland.

  Graduation

Secret Santa and Why We Don’t Mess with Elves On my first day in Iceland, I rode the bus from the Keflavík airport to Reykjavík. Along the way, the bus driver mentioned several interesting places I should visit, as he pointed beyond the vast volcanic landscape that enveloped the main highway on either side.

[careerbitespod]

Bonus Episode Transcript: My Story with Host, Rachael Barksdale

Rachael Barksdale: We are just about halfway through the first season of Career Bites, and I have learned so much from all our guests so far. And I think that in my haste to share these amazing stories with you all, I forgot to share my own story - the story behind this podcast. I’m not a career coach or counselor. But my first-hand experience with the ups and downs of navigating the career world is the inspiration behind this project, and I’d like to share a little of my journey with all of you.

I started out with a love of science as a kid. I mean, ever since I was little. My dad was a doctor and my brothers and I, we’d just read tons and tons of books on dinosaurs and science, and we’d have these really nerdy conversations at the dinner table about all kinds of things. In school, I was lucky enough to have a really good public-school education but I had science teachers who were particularly excited about what they were teaching. Especially my high school biology teacher, I had him for introductory biology but also for AP Biology as a senior. And pretty much since then I was thinking “you know what? I’m going to go to college to major in genetics and I’m going to be that person that cures cancer or ends world hunger by creating genetically-modified crops that are going to be drought tolerant and can grow anywhere”. I had all these really big research dreams. So I decided to go to Brigham Young University which is in Provo, Utah. They have a Genetics and Biotechnology program. Granted, it’s a church school - so I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints - and that was a big factor in my decision to go. But at the same time, I - I did some other research as well and BYU is known for having a lot of undergraduate research opportunities. And again, my big thing was “I want to do research”. So that’s perfect! I can get my hands wet early, that’s - that’s really what I wanted. So my sophomore year I took what’s called the mentored lab techniques class. I became the TA for that class after the semester was over: I did well enough and the current TA was moving on to greener pastures, so I became the TA. And that then allowed me to become a research assistant for a semester for the same professor who I was TA-ing for. And I quickly came to realize that I absolutely loathe doing research. I thought that my reticence to do some of those techniques and sort of that imposter syndrome that I was feeling when I was in the lab was just me, and that time and experience would mitigate that, but I came to realize that actually going through the scientific method and slogging through some of those day-to-day things that go along with research - I couldn’t stand it. And it wasn’t until I actually did it that I realized that. So at this point I am now pretty much done with my degree. I’m starting my senior year, I’m asking myself “well what do I do now?” Right? I have this degree that, unless I get my masters and my PhD, is completely useless. So, again, at the time I was a teacher’s assistant for the mentored lab techniques class. And while I didn’t really enjoy the technical side of it, you know, having to do some of the behind-the-scenes prep work, I absolutely loved working with the students. And I went to an advisor for the education department - the science education department specifically - and talked to her about my options as far as teaching. Right? Those who can’t do, teach. Why not those who don’t want to do or hate what they do, teach? I enrolled in a post-baccalaureate program to get my teaching license. It was a non-degree-seeking program. Essentially it allowed me to get through all of my education classes and do my student teaching as a way to get the licensure for the state without having to get a degree from the school. And so I have a bachelor's degree in Genetics and Biotechnology - I just finished it up - got my teaching license and then soon after moved to the state of Washington so that my husband could do his graduate school. So I get into my first year as a teacher - it was fantastic, I couldn’t have asked for a better school. It was really time consuming - when I was getting my post-baccalaureate classes out of the way, I had a teacher who told me, told our classes over and over again that “nothing will ever prepare you for your first year of teaching”. And I found that to be true. As much as I felt prepared after student teaching, being by yourself in a classroom in charge of 100, 150 students, especially young’uns like middle school kids, it’s nerve wracking and you spend a lot of time outside of class doing extra work to make sure that you’re prepared every day. But I felt like I was supported. And when the end of the year came around - so some context, I was essentially a long-term substitute - so the school had another position for a science teacher open up. So I applied for the job, I got an interview, and I was interviewing against a different...not student teacher, but sort of interim teacher like myself who was also in the life sciences department at that school. And it turns out that I did not get the job, the other teacher got the job. And I was crushed. I thought that I was doing well at the school, I kind of felt like “this - this was it”, you know, I was - I found a great place to work. I felt like a little bit of a failure. But it all worked out. I ended up getting a position at Rogers High School in Spokane, Washington. So I basically started all over again when I got to Rogers High School. It was my second year teaching, but it felt like my first year: I was in a new school, I was in a new district, I was in a new tier of the K-12 system - high school. So again, a lot of work, a lot of extra time. I was super burned out. I had done essentially two first-years of teaching in a row. And then, my husband gets a job in North Carolina, so I move again. New school, new district, fortunately still biology, high school, but now I was teaching AP Biology as well - which was a huge dream of mine. So it was a lot, again, three years in a row, completely burned out. And so I’m starting to look for other jobs and I’m wondering “what the heck do I do?” Unfortunately - and if you listened to the first episode of this podcast Tia goes into this and explains it - essentially you’re pigeonholed as a teacher on a resume, on paper. Employers see “teacher” on a resume and they kind of just think about “you work with kids” and then whatever preconceptions go along with that. Or they just think you can only educate, you don’t have any other soft skills that would make you at all desirable for a different type of job. And as much as I love teaching - it wasn’t so much the burnout - I loved teaching and I still do. I think working with students and seeing that lightbulb go off and being able to communicate what you love in such a way that other people learn to love it too, it means a lot. And it’s so fulfilling. But I wanted more opportunities. As a teacher, there’s not a whole lot of what we call traditional career advancement. And so, then enter my masters degree. I decided to get my Masters in Instructional Technology. I think my goal was to make myself look better on paper, being able to illustrate that yes, I have these education skills, I have these classroom skills, but I also can do something with that beyond being in a classroom, beyond children. And that helped me to land my gig at Carolina Distance Learning where I’m a Distance Learning Specialist. So you can kind of see how that all ties together with my Masters in Instructional Technology, online learning and then this whole idea of distance learning. But I’m a little bit in limbo. Part of that involves the fact that because I have moved again out of state, so I’m not in North Carolina anymore I am now in Idaho, so my degree’s up in the air as well. I don’t know what finishing my degree will look like, or what the timeline is going to be. I don’t also know what - how being a mom is going to fit into all of this. About a year ago I had my son Ashton, and I’d like to have more children but, again, I also want to have this career - I want to have it all. How - how do we do that? And - and - that’s a whole other story, I would love to get more into career and motherhood but...Thinking back on my career, then, in hindsight there’s a lot of good things that came out of my winding career path. And I don’t think I would have changed it for anything. So in hindsight, for example, my major: you might think “oh well, you know, you - you probably could have gotten a different degree. What if you have just gone into getting your Bachelor of Science in Biology Education and gone straight to that?” which would have been a lot easier. But in hindsight, I met my husband through the Genetics and Biotechnology degree program. He also got his degree in Genetics and Biotechnology. And then another reason why my major came in handy was I learned from my mentor teacher at my first teaching gig that the reason why he fought so hard for me to get the position that summer when they were interviewing candidates - even though I was brand new and there were other candidates that had a few more years of teaching under their belt - he fought for me because I had a, not a teaching degree, but I had an industry specific degree. I had a degree in genetics and I happened to have a teaching license. I was not a teacher first, I was a scientist first, in his mind. And so that was the reason why I got the job, I learned afterwards. So, we don’t really know where life is going to take us, and we don’t know maybe why the path that we take is so winding, but there’s - there’s always things - good things - that can come out of it. Another example is, I took that job to be a TA for the mentored lab techniques class essentially as a way to get a better job. I was currently working for special events at the university so I would do things like scan tickets and stand by the gates at the stadium during football games and basketball games. I was that poor, poor person wearing the really big, puffy orange coat that said “events” on the back. I wanted a more sophisticated job as a college student and so I took the TA job. And that ended up leading me to fall in love with teaching. It...if you had asked me if I wanted to become a teacher in high school, I would have laughed. I was deathly afraid of public speaking, let alone standing in front of a room of a finite number of people and explaining something, and coming up with activities, and trying to manage unruly behavior in a classroom...I - I even had a horrible experience tutoring in high school. I...was not a very good person, in that moment, and, sort of, ruined this relationship I had with someone I was tutoring for Spanish. And that kind of still haunts me to this day, but it just goes to show that I had no inclination to teach, when I was younger, but by the time I reached college I had had enough of these, arguably, you know, serendipitous, events collide to lead me to become a teacher. And that’s kind of where this podcast came from. It’s - I’m realizing now it’s been several years in the making. There’s definitely a part of me that wishes that I’d had something like this five ago when I was starting to question where to go after teaching. Or even in high school: if I had known what other job opportunities were out there, or what other jobs were like, there’s a good chance I might have reconsidered becoming a scientist, I just didn’t have a lot of exposure to anything else. And I think that’s it, I think we’re a product of what we’re exposed to. And unless we’re actively seeking out other things to expose ourselves to, we’re not going to find those things. We’re not going to be able to open our minds to what else is out there. I’d like for this project of mine to become a way to give students and people seeking potential career changes, or just looking for some career advice, just a - a glimpse, a snapshot, a - a sample, of what it’s like to be in other careers, what it takes. I want to provide as much exposure as I can. I want to share the life lessons that myself, my friends, my colleagues, have gone through so that maybe they don’t have to go through those same experiences themselves, or at least they have a little bit of a leg up on those experiences when they come around. 

So I’d love to hear from you guys. What careers do you want me to highlight? What questions do you have about careers? What questions do you have about education? Not that I have the answers to those questions, but I want to be able to find the guests that do. Thank you for listening. If you have a question or comment, please reach out to me on Instagram or Facebook @careerbitespod. Subscribe to and rate Career Bites on your favorite listening platform. And join us next Monday as we sample another career with an everyday professional.