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#also i wanted to include jos drawings because i only noticed recently that shes using COPICS??
lichtecht · 7 months
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PART 18
of the dfk audiobook translation
@cnka
Bökh: „Uh, Martina- Could you please stay with me for a moment?“ Matze: „Ciao!“ Bökh: „Ciao!“ Uli: „Thanks for the lemonade, Herr Bökh.“ Jo: „Bye!“
The door closes behind them.
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Bökh: „Um… about your math's test… Um… it was only a 4.“ Martina: „…What?“ Bökh: „Minus.“ Martina: „But… I’ve never gotten a 4.“ Bökh: „It’s not your fault either, you’re just behind a certain bit. I'm offering to study with you in the holidays. So you can pass the admission test.“ Martina: „…“
Martina nods.
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Bökh: „Ok? Yeah?“ Martina: „…Could I use your telephone please?“ Bökh: „Yes, of course. Back there.“ Martina: „Thank you. I’d have to call home.“ Bökh: „Ok. Can you remind your mother about the money for the car hood?“
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Narrator (audiobook): Martina nods hesitantly. When she calls home, she only reaches Oskar, who is sitting alone at the dinner table once again.
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(telephone ringing)
Oskar: „Hello?“ Martina: „…It’s me!“ Oskar: „Martina?! You know what, I found my worm! And now he’s at home with us! And I’ll take him to our vacation so you’ll see him too!“ Martina: „…Oskar… I need to stay here. For the entire holidays. I need to prepare for the test.“ Oskar: „…What? You’re not coming to vacation? But- but you promised we’d go on vacation together.“
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Martina: „I know. But I need to pass the test first.“ Oskar: „You- you could study here. You and Mama always said, a promise is a promise.“ Martina: „No. I can’t do this alone.“
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Oskar: „You know what?! Just stay in your shitty Kirchberg, I can do this without you, I hate you!“
Oskar hangs up the phone with a slam.
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SCENE CHANGE
Narrator (audiobook): Later in the evening, Jo and Martina are in their room, and she is sitting on her bed sadly.
Jo is drawing. She looks up.
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Martina: (sniffles quietly) Jo: „…Are you okay?“ Martina: „Yeah, yeah.“
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Narrator (audiobook): Jo sits down next to her friend.
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Jo: „Do you know why this film is so important to me?“
Martina shakes her head.
Jo: „I want to send it to my mother. I thought she’d come to the performance, but… the whole thing is off.“ Martina: „…“
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Jo: „My foster parents will come to the closing party. …But they’re booked out the entire summer… Hm. That’s it for my holidays.“ Martina: „Why do you have foster parents, by the way?“
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Jo: „When I was five… my mother abandoned me in a disco. Afterwards, she went into hiding for years. A while ago, my foster parents found her in Brazil.“ Jo: „… I was really happy.“ Jo: „… But we won’t see each other. She can’t make it.“ Martina: „I’m sorry.“
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nerdygaymormon · 3 years
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Hi, I’m going to byu this next year and I’m quite scared. Is there anything I should know? Also, I’m toying with the idea of going back into the closet just to make it easier in class and around extended family, because I know going to byu will hurt, but maybe I can make it hurt less? Idk, I’d just really appreciate some sort of response about this because you seem like the kind of person that can give a knowledgeable response. Ty for reading :)
Let me begin by saying my BYU student days are long ago and most of what I share is what I’ve learned from students the past few years or from when I visit campus and speak to people.
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I know people who've been out but went back into the closet for reasons like going to BYU or moving to a new ward. And after experiencing what it's like to be out, being back in the closet the second time is a tougher experience. They recognize they are suppressing themselves.
I understand your desire to go back in the closet and how it gives you the opportunity to come out to roommates and friends after you test the water, maybe ask them questions and get a sense of their level of acceptance.
An alternative to going back into the closet is find an apartment with another queer person living there. If you know some queer BYU students, ask them to help you find housing with a queer roommate. If you don't know any queer BYU students, perhaps some will read this and message you, or I can contact a few for you.
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The Out Foundation partners with Flourish Therapy to provide therapy for free to queer BYU students. I've only heard good things about Flourish, other than there's typically a wait list and may take weeks/months to get seen and assigned a therapist.
There's also CAPS, the university's counseling & psychological center, and I believe they're included in your student fees, so no additional costs to meet with their counselors. I've also heard good things from queer students who seek help from here.
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USGA is the off-campus group for queer BYU students & their allies. They meet at the Provo library (the old BYU Academy bldg). They meet weekly and have activities. I highly recommend. This is a chance to meet other queer people in a situation similar to you. USGA may also be a route to find a queer roommate.
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If you find that BYU is too much and you need to transfer, The Out Foundation might assist. Last year they raised money to help queer students transfer from BYU after the Honor Code change fiasco. They have a guide to transferring. It's better to get a degree from UVU than to be depressed and suicidal at BYU. Plus the name of the institution you graduate from will follow you the rest of your life and people will assume things about you based off of where you went.
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Caleb Stewart put together this map to Gender Neutral Bathrooms on BYU Campus
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At BYU, your ward will assign you into FHE groups, often it's 1 or 2 men's apartments and 1 or 2 women's apartments assigned together. 
Here's the thing, FHE isn't mandatory for your ecclesiastical endorsement, so skip it if going makes you cringe. There's a social aspect of going to college, and many find FHE contributes to that. 
If you have roommates, they may pressure you to go, but tell them you have class/study group or your going to your parents' house or whatever excuse you want.
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If you want to avoid a calling, there's a couple strategies. Don't draw attention to you the first 3 weeks of school, that's when most callings are extended, maybe go to a friend's ward. If possible, leave your records in your home ward for 2 or 3 weeks until the big rush of callings is over.
You can avoid your BYU ward only a few times because you will need the bishop to renew your ecclesiastical endorsement. Elders Quorum and Relief Society are where your attendance will be taken.
If you really don't want a calling, you can decline the calling. Some callings are more demanding than others.
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The school network used to be monitored, or had software that blocked certain sites, I don’t know what the current situation is. Until you know, be careful what stuff you access on the school network. Things that come across as anti-Mormon may be noticed and get flagged. 
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A different strategy would be to tell shame to take a hike and hang up a rainbow Pride flag when you first move in. If your roommates ask (which they probably will), you can choose to say you're an ally or you are queer. You make the move to indicate this is going to be a queer-safe space.
If they really are uncomfortable with the idea of living with someone who is queer or an ally, they may try to transfer to a different apartment. And if so, good move as it will remove a hostile person from your life.
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Ben Schilaty is a gay man who works in the BYU Honor Code office. Arranging to go by his office to introduce yourself and ask him for advice on how to have a better time at BYU is a good idea. His position is to enforce the Honor Code, so you can ask him about what is or isn't allowable at BYU, but don't go confessing things because he is a school official and would have to take action.
Blake Fisher is a gay man who works as an inclusion advisor in the Office of Student Success and Inclusion. He's worth a visit to see what steps BYU is taking to include queer students. He likely will have some advice on how to be successful as a queer student.
You'll probably be surprised by the number of faculty who are allies and display a rainbow or trans flag outside their office door. One faculty member I would recommend meeting is Roni Jo Draper. She was head of PFLAG in Provo, and is on the board of the ACLU. She'll likely be able to recommend other professors who are queer-friendly.
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You can generally have a good time at BYU. However, anytime you mention queer topics, there's the possibility someone will overhear and respond negatively. You never know when a queerphobic talk will be given at church or a bigoted comment made in class. Feeling like you may experience these things at any time can make a person feel a bit paranoid and that they need to be careful.
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While individual professors may call out people who make such comments in your class, don't expect the administration to take your side. In questions of personal dignity versus someone who claims they're defending church doctrine, the personal dignity of queer people gets sacrificed every time.
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There are opportunities, such as volunteering at Encircle House or running for USGA leadership, that give you an opportunity help better the lives of queer people, and that is a fantastic feeling to know you're making a positive difference.
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A recent poll found 13% of BYU students identify as LGBTQIA. Queer students are there and if you can find some, they'll introduce you to others. Being at BYU as a queer student can feel isolating, but you're not alone. Finding other queer students is very helpful. That group of students are generally very loving and supportive because they know what it's like.
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As BYU is not an affirming, welcoming place for LGBTQIA students, it is up to you to build yourself a support network. This includes faculty who are allies that you can talk with, finding other queer students with whom you can talk about the ignorant things you have to deal with, USGA where you can hang with other queer students, and so on. 
Also monitoring your mental health is important because there's an ongoing low-level of stress that goes with being a queer student at BYU. If you need help, get into CAPS or Flourish and look at the possibility of transferring to another school, you may qualify for in-state tuition depending on several factors.
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queerpyracy · 4 years
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PORTLAND, Ore. — Angela Foster started showing up in the early days of the protests in Portland as one of the novice activists standing off to the side with no gear to protect herself.
Roughly 40 demonstrations later, she has moved toward the front, wearing a mask, goggles and a helmet, and bracing for law enforcement officers to charge at her.
“We’re not leaving,” Ms. Foster said in interview on Sunday.
While President Trump on Sunday described the unrest in Portland as a national threat involving “anarchists and agitators,” the protests have featured a wide array of demonstrators, many now galvanized by federal officers exemplifying the militarized enforcement that protesters have long denounced. Gatherings over the weekend grew to upward of 1,000 people, some of the largest crowds in weeks.
Some protesters have exhibited the lawless behavior that federal officials have cited to justify their crackdown: Some have thrown cans and bottles, shot fireworks or pointed lasers at officers. One was recently accused of hitting a federal officer with a hammer. On Saturday, protesters set a fire in the police union headquarters.
But others have demonstrated in the streets through peaceful means, appalled by the aggressive responses by federal officers that have left some protesters injured and the air inflamed with tear gas. They have held signs and marched. At times when people have thrown bottles, other demonstrators have rushed to try to stop them. On Saturday, a group of women locked arms and chanted: “Feds stay clear. Moms are here.”
Attending a protest for the first time over the weekend was Christopher David, a Navy veteran and a 1988 graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy. He said that, as a Navy veteran, he felt the need to confront the federal officers to ask, Why were they violating their oath to the Constitution?
But as Mr. David went to do just that late Saturday, he didn’t get a conversation. Instead, as Mr. David stood still, according to video of the encounter, a federal officer dressed in camouflage fatigues began hitting him with his baton before another doused him in pepper spray.
Mr. David said in an interview on Sunday that he needed to have surgery on his hand.
Luis Enrique Marquez, a self-described anti-fascist who has been a fixture at protests in Portland for years, said the purpose of the federal officers’ arrival had appeared to be to scare the protesters. But he said the officers had instead galvanized them by displaying the types of actions that have concerned protesters for years.
“With every act of violence they commit, our numbers seem to grow, people seem to get more angry,” Mr. Marquez said.
Demonstrators in Portland, including some who identify as antifa, the loose coalition of self-described anti-fascist activists, have had years of conflict with law enforcement. But after the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis set off a nationwide movement for racial justice and police accountability, the protest in Portland drew thousands to the streets.
That created powerful scenes including images of protesters blanketing the Burnside Bridge, each lying face down on the pavement for eight minutes and 46 seconds in remembrance of Mr. Floyd.
While those initial mass crowds have waned, hundreds of protesters have continued on with near-nightly confrontations with law enforcement.
Unlike demonstrators in Seattle at the Capitol Hill Organized Protest, or CHOP, in which they established a permanent location that created tensions over how the police should handle unrest inside the area, protesters in Portland have brought the same feel of communal support throughout the downtown area. Volunteers wearing red crosses hand out ear plugs, eye wash and hand sanitizer. A mobile snack van provides Gatorade and food.
Jeremy Vajko, who operates the snack van, said he initially operated in the CHOP zone in Seattle and then came to Portland to support the people on the streets.
“I noticed there was problems with nutrition,” he said. “People are sleep deprived.”
During the daytime, the protests can draw families, businesspeople and political leaders such as Jo Ann Hardesty, a city commissioner. At night, the crowd is made up mostly of young people. Dozens of protesters at the front carry homemade shields made out of materials such as 55-gallon drums. Others stand farther back, shining lasers or gathering materials for building barricades.
But protesters’ tactics have strained the city. Business owners, already struggling because of the coronavirus pandemic, have cited the protests as a reason residents have been staying away from downtown. Some leaders in the Black community have also questioned the tactics, suggesting that some demonstrators have seized the moment in the aftermath of Mr. Floyd’s killing to advance their own causes.
Last month, officers from the Portland Police Bureau repeatedly fired tear gas and made arrests of protesters, who have variously called for the abolishment or defunding of the bureau, and for more accountability for law enforcement officers. The city’s officers now operate with new limits on the use of tear gas after a judge ordered it to only be used if it’s needed to keep people safe.
Protesters have focused much of their attention on Mayor Ted Wheeler, who also serves as police commissioner. Crowds have at times gathered late at night outside Mr. Wheeler’s condo building, shining lights and chanting about the perceived failures of his administration.
For weeks, Mr. Wheeler has called for an end to destructive demonstrations, saying he is concerned about “groups who continue to perpetrate violence and vandalism on our streets.” But as federal agencies have moved in to play a role in combating the unrest, Mr. Wheeler has said he told the federal officials to stay away.
City police leaders have said they are not coordinating with federal agencies on the protests. But at one point early Saturday morning, a line of federal officers was moving up one street while a line of local police officers was moving up another, both advancing to keep protesters on the move. It was unclear what level of coordination was involved in that effort.
Mr. Trump said in a Twitter post on Sunday that federal officials were “trying to help Portland, not hurt it.” Mr. Trump, who has said states need to “dominate” protesters, said Portland officials had lost control.
“They are missing in action,” Mr. Trump wrote. “We must protect Federal property, AND OUR PEOPLE.”
Local leaders have grown increasingly vocal in opposition to the federal presence after one protester appeared to have been shot in the head with what was described as a less-lethal munition, severely injuring him in a bloody scene that was captured on video. Federal officers have operated from unmarked vans, at times seizing protesters and pulling them into the vehicles.
Joel B. Barker, who runs a marketing agency, said that he had frequently participated in protests during the day near the Justice Center, which includes the county jail, and that he usually left before 9 p.m. at the latest. He said that the protests drew a diverse crowd, reflecting a range of racial backgrounds, age and socioeconomic statuses, and that there was a sense of unity.
He lives about a mile away, and the demonstrations have not had any repercussions close to his home. The demonstrators, he said, were largely peaceful and not there to foment disorder.
Mr. Barker said he felt rage that the city was being used for what he believed was a ploy for the president in an election year.
“It’s really terrible,” he added, “and I want America to understand how terrible it is to feel like a city you love is being occupied by your own federal government, because that’s how it feels.”
Oregon’s attorney general, Ellen Rosenblum, has filed a lawsuit seeking to halt some of the detainment tactics used by federal officers. Her office has also opened a criminal investigation into the case of the protester who sustained a head injury.
Lisa Reynolds, a pediatrician who is running as a Democrat for a seat in the Oregon House of Representatives, said she had tried to keep her distance from the protests, largely because of the coronavirus crisis. But on Sunday, she said, she was going to be fitted for a respirator so she would be safer at protests where tear gas is used.
“I think my fear kept me away,” she said. “I think this is a step where I need to put myself out there a little more.”
Sergio Olmos reported from Portland, Rick Rojas from Atlanta and Mike Baker from Seattle. John Ismay contributed reporting from Arlington, Va.
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aion-rsa · 4 years
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Doctor Who: Why Does Everyone Keep Forgetting the Daleks?
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A scene that did not appear in New Year’s Day’s Doctor Who Special, ‘Revolution of the Daleks’.
SCENE: EXT. 10 DOWNING STREET, A PRESS CONFERENCE IS BEING HELD
PRIME MINISTER JO PATTERSON: …and so I introduce to you, our new, fully automated defence drones!
A “DEFENCE DRONE” GLIDES INTO VIEW.
JOURNALIST (RAISES A HAND): Hello, Jeff Typeface, Daily Exposition. Sorry but, um, isn’t that just a Dalek?
PM: A what?
JOURNALIST: A Dalek? About twelve years ago they transported the entire planet through space then rounded humans up in the streets and exterminated them?
PM: Hmmm. Doesn’t ring a bell.
ANOTHER JOURNALIST: Yeah, and a few years before that a bunch of them came flying out of Canary Wharf?
PM: Sorry, I’m completely drawing a blank.
JOURNALIST: Come on! They murdered one of your predecessors!
PM: Excuse me, but you can’t honestly expect me to remember every single British Prime Minister that suffered a violent death over the last two decades. We all know this job has the life expectancy of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.
PM’S ADVISOR: Actually, Prime Minister, talking of your predecessors, Winston Churchill did try this exact same plan with a very similar looking contraption during the War, and I hear that went badly.
PM: I mean, I’m sure I believe you. I’m just saying this is all news to me.
JOURNALIST: Very well. Moving on, how will these “Defence Drones” help us deal with the Covid-19 pandemic?
PM: See, now you’re just making words up.
Doctor Who has always been a series that points and laughs at fans who want to try and piece together a consistent continuity across all its stories, but even by Doctor Who standards, forgetting an entire global invasion barely more than a decade ago (y’know, just before most of the show’s viewers were born, you absolute fossil you) might seem like a stretch.
Of course, the real reason Jo Patterson couldn’t remember the Daleks is that unlike say, the MCU, where weirdness layers upon weirdness to create a world that almost counts as alt-history, Doctor Who is, on some level, always reaching to be set in “our” universe. The key conceit of the show is that you might turn a corner, find a blue box, and suddenly be whisked away through space and time to a world of adventure. Which doesn’t really work if the British town squares of the Doctor Who universe all feature memorials to the victims of the Daleks and diet pills have to be tested for Adipose DNA.
But at the same time, Doctor Who just loves a great big Hollywood space invasion, and making these two core ingredients of the show mesh is a nightmare for continuity.
Let’s, for instance, take a look at the life of recently departed Doctor’s companion, Ryan Sinclair.
Life of Ryan
Ryan was born in 1998 or 1999. As a child, he attended Redlands Primary School at around the same time London was hit by a “terrorist attack” when shop windows dummies started shooting people. A year later a spaceship crashed into Big Ben, although this was later dismissed as a hoax. That Christmas Day, when Ryan was around eight years old, every human with O negative blood got up in a trance and went and stood on a tall building while a gigantic spaceship hung over London.
Still Ryan is a kid, he doesn’t watch the news, maybe nobody in his family is O negative and let’s face it, news of a lot of this stuff probably doesn’t get as far as Sheffield.
However, even in Sheffield he would have seen the regular “ghost shifts” that appeared all over the world, and at nine years old he would have been traumatised to have his home, like so many others, invaded by Cybermen before they all got sucked away by something.
His family make the wise decision not to turn on the news that Christmas, so he doesn’t hear about the “Christmas star” attack, or later that year a hospital being teleported to the moon, and while he probably remembers grown-ups getting very excited by Harold Saxon getting elected, fortunately most of his tenure as Prime Minister was erased from history.
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Ryan would have noticed when CBBC was replaced by a giant eyeball shouting that “Prisoner Zero Has Escaped”, and, shortly after turning ten, he definitely would have noticed when the entire sky was set on fire to prevent a Sontaran invasion.
And then of course, the Earth was teleported across space, planets filled the skies, and Daleks roamed the streets rounding people up. He would have been about the same age as future astronaut and Mars colonist, Adelaide Brooke at this time, and she was profoundly affected by the experience.
After that it’s possible the government may have rounded up him and his classmates to offer up to the 456.
To round the year off, Ryan actually turned into Harold Saxon for a bit. This was probably, on balance, the worst Christmas of the lot.
2011 was largely uneventful except that nobody could die.
Ryan went on to see the Tenth Doctor light the flame at the 2012 Olympics, was briefly into that whole “mysterious black cubes” craze before they got banned for some reason, and while he was in high school the entire Earth was covered in dense forest overnight but that disappeared, and nobody ever mentioned it again. The Cybermen invaded again. Then, not long after Ryan left school, the entire world was taken over by a species of really gross looking mummified monks who claimed to have always been in charge, before they also disappeared overnight.
Not long after that, Ryan met the Doctor for the first time and was shocked, shocked, to discover that aliens exist.
Cracks in Time
Steven Moffat did give us one handy explanation for why nobody in Doctor Who remembers the Dalek invasion, or the giant steampunk Cyberman that invaded Victorian London, and probably much more. In ‘Victory of the Daleks’ the Doctor tries to persuade Winston Churchill that using his own force of Daleks to secure the country was a bad idea, and he turns to Amy, who would have seen that invasion, to back him up. She has no idea what’s he’s talking about.
Later it’s revealed this is because the TARDIS explodes, destroying the entire universe with it. The cracks in time left by that explosion erased all kinds of events from history, including, handily, anything that would cause the human view of the universe to deviate too far from the real-world status quo.
Of course, that does leave some problems. Adelaide Brooke, again, clearly remembers the Dalek invasion and it was a moment so formative and influential on her eventual Fixed Point In Time that even the Dalek she saw (who, I remind you, was working on a plot to destroy literally all existence) didn’t dare exterminate her because of its influence on the timeline. And since it’s not implied the crack in time could bring anyone back from the dead, it does make you wonder what history says happened to Harriet Jones (former Prime Minister) and all the many others killed by the Daleks.
But maybe you don’t need a giant retconning Crack in Time?
Because while the Doctor has often waxed lyrical about humanity being indomitable, creative, and curious, there is also a lesser innate human quality the Doctor sometimes mentions: our absent-mindedness.
The Forgetfulness of the Daleks
As well as the Dalek incursions in ‘The Stolen Earth’ and ‘The Army of Ghosts’, there was another Dalek visitation of Earth in the ironically named ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’, which was set in 1963. During this adventure then-companion Ace points out she doesn’t remember anything about Daleks invading in the 1960s. The Doctor replies, “Do you remember the Zygon gambit with the Loch Ness Monster? Or the Yeti in the Underground? Your species has an amazing capacity for self-deception.”
Likewise, nobody remembers dinosaurs invading London, or the other time shop window dummies came to life and started killing people, or when the Earth encountered its exact twin. Without any cracks in time hanging around, Doctor Who falls back on an old staple of fantasy and sci-fi- that humans just ignore anything that doesn’t fit into their worldview.
As we’ve already mentioned, this turns up a couple of times in the new series as well. In ‘In the Forest of the Night’, the entire planet is overnight covered in forest for reasons that we’re not going to go into too closely because that story’s a bit of an embarrassment to be honest. As the forest disappears at the end of the story the Doctor says it will be forgotten outside of fairy stories, because that’s “a human superpower”.
It can even work two-way. In ‘The Lie of the Land’, the entire Earth is taken over by the gross-looking and mysterious “monks”. Using a psychic link, the monks convince humanity that not only are they humanity’s generous benefactors, but also that the monks have always been here, guiding human evolution. This is of course a lie, as the monks are actually one of the very few aliens not to have guided human evolution at some point.
After the Doctor does his thing and the monks’ statues are torn down, someone passes by the ruins of one and wonders what it was. Already, people are forgetting.
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Which, if you think about it, is a Doctor Who story in itself. Imagine being an alien visiting Earth. Humanity must seem like the Silence, but in reverse- as soon as they stop looking at you they forget you exist. The Doctor really ought to take a look at that some time.
The post Doctor Who: Why Does Everyone Keep Forgetting the Daleks? appeared first on Den of Geek.
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thecleverdame · 5 years
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Sleepy Hollow - Chapter Six
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Series Master List
Pairings: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean x Jo
Summary: In 1799, specialized police constables Sam and Dean Winchester are sent from New York City to a small town called Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders. Approached by the town’s council, the Winchesters discover the local residents believe that the murders are the work of a deadly Hessian horseman whose head has been mysteriously chopped off. With help from the beautiful Y/N Van Tassel, Sam Winchester’s investigation takes him further through the dark wood where more murders have been occurring. What Sam does not realize is that the mysterious Horseman is being controlled by someone in a sinister plot to kill the most suitable men in the village.
Warnings: Canon-level violence, murder, smut, horror, gore and a little fluff for good measure.
Words: 40k
Beta:  ilikaicalie
This series is completed. You can read it on my Patreon for a monthly pledge of 2.50. This pledge includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<
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Van Tassel House - Sam’s Room
Sam is startled awake, frightened and sweating. He lies in bed staring at the ceiling wrapped in the darkness of the night. There’s a candle flickering beside the bed almost completely burned down to the chamberstick and the smell of sweet salve, it’s a tell-tale sign. Dean must’ve dressed his head wound. He gingerly touches his forehead, wincing when he gets close to the gash and shakes sleep away.
It’s dark outside the window. The fall from the horse knocked him for a loop but now he’s able-bodied and not sure he’ll be able to sleep any more. He gets up, dresses and heads out to explore the house at night.
Entering the kitchen, he sets his lantern on the table and sits down to open his father’s ledger. It’s only as he settles in that he notices a faint light coming from down the hall. -
Most nights you retreat to the sewing room. There’s no one about the house at this hour and your bedroom can often feel like a prison. So after everyone is asleep you sit by the fire and read until the early hours of the morning.
You don’t hear Sam approaching, he’s quiet as a mouse until the door creaks open and you nearly jump out of your skin. For a moment you think it’s your stepmother, only to be met with the face of the handsome Constable.
Slapping the book closed and tucking it in beside you in the chair, you sit at attention, watching him inch inside the door. “You scared me nearly half to death.” “Pardon my intrusion. I saw a light.” He smiles softly, a wonderful, gentle smile you wouldn’t expect from such a beast of a man.
“It is no intrusion. I come here to read when sleep eludes me.” You can’t help but feel a thrill as he steps closer. “Will you sit with me, Constable Winchester?”
You pat the sofa beside you, watching as he bites his bottom lip. He bows his head in confirmation, then he takes a seat.
“How would your fiance’ feel about you being alone with me?” Sam asks, awaiting the answer with bated breath. He cannot deny his interest in you, especially to himself.
“I believe I told you Brom had proposed, not that I ever accepted.” Looking him over you scoot to the side, making more room. “I would expect more attention to detail from a man of the law, Constable.” “You must call me Sam,” he offers, leaning close to get a better view of the volume you hid away. “You come here to read books which you must hide?” he grins, tilting his head to read the spine of the book in question. “The Knights of the Round Table...isn’t that for children?” “Not everything is as it appears.” You pick up the large book, taking another, smaller volume from inside. “It was my mother’s book. My father frowned at them when they were hers, he would frown at me now. He believes tales of romance caused the brain fever that killed my mother. She died two years ago come midwinter.” Sam nods, “I am very sorry. I saw it written in the front of the family bible.” “The nurse who cared for her during her sickness is the new Lady Van Tassel.” “There was something else too.” Sam can’t stop the investigator inside him.  “Why did no one think to mention that Van Garretts are kit and kin to the Van Tassels?”
“Why because there is hardly a household in Sleepy Hollow that is not connected to every other by blood or marriage. I have more cousins than fingers and toes to count them on.” That thought seems to amuse him, cheeks rounding, dimples appearing. “What?”
“Dean is all the family I have the world.” He looks up, his eyes lingering for a moment too long.
A cock crows outside, dawn is coming soon.
“This land was Van Garrett Land, given to my father when I was in swaddling clothes,” you continue, eager to find any reason to keep him with you. Enjoying this sweet moment of privacy. “Given by the dead Van Garrett?” he inquires. “Yes,” you nod. “The Van Garretts were the richest family around these parts even then. When my father brought us to Sleepy Hollow, Van Garrett set him up with an acre, a broken-down cottage, and a dozen Van Garrett hens. My father prospered and built us a new house. I owe my happiness to him. I remember living poor in the cottage. Would you like to see it? I could take you there.” “Yes. I would like to see where you were as poor as I am.” He grins, unnaturally handsome and you want nothing more than to throw yourself at him.
Sam stands to leave and you stand too, revealing the book you had been reading. You give it a final look before handing it to him.
“Take this. It is my gift to you, Sam.” He carefully takes it from you, big hands curling around the spine as he reads the title: A Compendium of Spells, Charms, and Devices of the Spirit World. “I am grateful for the gift, but perhaps you should keep it. I have no use for it.” He steps closer to hand it back. “Are you so certain of everything?” You look at him, purposely holding his stare.
He inspects it, opening the cover and flipping to the back. There’s your name but in different handwriting is also the name Elizabeth Van Tassel.
“This was your mother’s?” He looks up, surprised.
“Keep it close to your heart.” You inch closer, nearer than you should be. “It is sure protection against harm.” His eyes narrow, looking from you to the book. “Are you so certain of everything?” “Almost always…” you whisper, tiling your head toward him like a plant hungry for the sun.
His lips meet yours in a single, longing kiss as his hand curls around your arm. He lingers for a fleeting moment, nuzzling his nose into your cheek before pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “I should go. It’s almost dawn and the staff will be waking. Being caught together as day breaks would certainly stir rumors.”
“I’ve never cared what people say about me.” You swim in the feeling of the kiss as he backs away.
“I will see you soon, Y/N.”
Sleepy Hollow Farmland
You and Sam make a pretty picture on horseback, riding slowly toward the ruins of the cottage you lived in as a child.
“I saw the photos on your desk,” you mention casually, watching him ride beside you. “Are they your family?”
“Yes, people I have lost.” He offers you a forced smile, hand tightening around the reigns. “My parents and someone I cared for.”
“A lost love?” you ask gently and he nods. “Did you lose her recently?”
“No, it was ten years ago now. But if I’m honest there are days when it feels as if no time has passed at all.”
“The heart heals slowly. There are days when I forget my mother is gone. Just this morning I had a fleeting thought. I wanted to tell her how excited I was to bring you here, only to remember that she is gone.”
“I know those moments as well.” He slows his horse as you approach the cottage. There’s almost nothing left but the hearth and part of a crumbling chimney.
Sam dismounts, turning to offer you a hand and help you off your horse. There’s a thrill at the feeling of his hands on yours and you’re about to let go when you notice little scars on his palm. You take his hand between your own, running your thumbs over the little dimples.
“These are strange,” you look up to him. “What are they?”   “I wish I knew. I’ve had them since I can remember.”
You inspect him for a moment longer, before taking his hand into yours and leading him into the ruins of the cottage. Sam's attention is caught by a red cardinal on a branch, much like the bird he had in New York. He reflects a moment, then turns to watch you crouching by the hearth. You look back at him, threading the stem of a flower into your hair. “I used to play by this hearth. It was my first drawing school and my mother was my teacher.” Unwittingly, you’re mimicking Sam's dream. You pick up a twig and start drawing on the hearthstone, just as his mother did. His blood runs cold but you’re unaware of the effect it’s having on him. Then he notices the few small wildflowers growing in the old fireplace and feels short of breath, leaning against the stones for support. “Oh, look! I'd forgotten this.” You smile. “See, carved into the fire-back, the Archer.” Using your fingers you clean off the dirt around a simple carving of a man with a Bow and Arrow. “This was from long before we lived here.” You look to Sam, who’s pale as a ghost. “Are you alright?” He nods but says nothing. You’re about to press him when you spot the cardinal too.
“Look there!” you point. “They are my favorite. I would love to have a tame one, but I wouldn't have the heart to cage him. “Then I have something for you.” Sam unslings his satchel, watching your face light up. You’re too beautiful and vibrant a creature to be stuck in a dark place like Sleepy Hollow.
It’s a paper disk with a red bird on one side and an empty cage on the other. Both ends of the disk are pierced by a looped string so that the disk can spin and twist. It was his mother’s gift to him many years ago.
“Come here, let me show you.” He steps behind you, indulging as he presses his chest into your back, arms reaching around your waist. You hum to life at the sensation of his large body curled over yours.
“A cardinal on one side, and an empty cage on the other.” You watch with bated breath as he spins the disk. “And now…” Once he moves it fast enough the bird appears to be inside the cage. You’re thrilled and excited, tilting back to look up at him. “You can do magic! Teach me!” “It is not magic. It’s optics,” he chuckles, lowering his mouth to the side of your head, he’s close enough you can feel his breath on your temple.  Sam gives you the toy and shows you how to spin it. “Separate pictures which become one when the picture spins. Like the truth which I must spin here.” He steps away, shifting to the side and watching while you spin the disk, the bird appears in the cage. “I may keep it?”
“Of course.” He confirms. “I’d give you anything you asked for to see you smile like this.”
His words send a flush to your cheeks and the disk in your hands is momentarily forgotten as you gaze at the handsome man before you.
“Anything?” you ask coyly.
“Anything.” His stare is unyielding, eyes fixed on yours.
“Another kiss?” you inquire, only to have him swooping down to pull you into his arms and his mouth close over your own. There’s a desperate passion that was not there this morning. This kiss stokes a fire in your belly, fanning the flame that his touch sparked in the sewing room.
You moan softly into his mouth, only to have him take advantage as his tongue slides past your lips, gliding, plunging, delving deeper and deeper until you’re breathless.
Before you know what’s happening his hand is on your stomach, pushing you back until you’re flush with the hearth, trapped between cold stone and the heat of his body. He pulls away with a pop, only to move down your jaw, drawing a breathless mewl from your lungs as he nips and sucks at the skin of your neck.
“Touch me,” you pant, fisting your hands in his hair.
Sam doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s wanted to kiss you, to ravage every inch of you, since the first moment he saw you. It’s a desire that’s only grown with time. He groans against the hot, sweating skin in the crook of your neck as his hand finds its way under your dress.
When his knuckles meet the soft skin of your thighs you gasp in response, pressing forward into his touch. Two fingers brush over the thatch of hair at your sex, scooping forward until he finds warm, wet flesh. You must want him as much as he desires you because you’re thoroughly slick.
“Sam,” you moan, spurring him on as those fingers thrust upward into the tightness of your channel. His thumb goes in search of your delicate pearl, sliding back and forth until you nearly squeal, two hands grabbing at his back confirming he’s found his target.
You can feel him inside you, two thick fingers thrusting in and out as he rubs your bud, bringing a wash of pleasure and wanton lust over every inch of you. You can also hear it, the sound of your sex taking his fingers and then the sensation of his mouth biting across the swell of your breasts.
If Sam had any less self-control he’d throw you to the ground and rip this ridiculous dress right off you. He’d fuck you here in the dirt, but he won’t. A woman as sweet as you deserves things like a bed and mattress.
He can feel it when you cum. You whimper, desperate cunt tightening around his knuckles, little sucking clenches that draw him deeper until you’re boneless in his grasp.
He pulls his hand from between your legs, sullied fingers on your throat as he hooks both hands under your jaw and kisses you again and again, swallowing every gasp and sigh until you’re lost in his mouth and his touch.
You spend the better part of the morning enthralled with each other, gentle touches and passionate kisses until the sun rises high overhead and you have no choice but to return home.
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ancientbrit · 4 years
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Natter #11   12/2/2020
Gordon Polson <[email protected]> Wed, Dec 2, 2020, 11:04 PM I am not sure how this will work out as I am not sure what to write anymore. Apparently, the last one must have gone over like a lead balloon and as there are no clinics to draw topics from I tend to write about things I think you might appreciate. It looks like I guessed wrong last time. Right now I am in the midst of editing the old Natters - all the Natters that is that we have been able to recover. Unfortunately, there are some still missing and I think that they are probably permanently gone now. However, there are something over 120 now available with grateful thanks to Tom & Jo, Janet and Carin, who resurrected all those we now have available. It is interesting to read back on them, some I find are likely to still be of interest - at least I hope they will be.This Summer I was positive that my banana palms would produce fruit as they went through last winter with most of their stature intact. This meant that they would be starting their growth from high up with all that potential in their "trunks" which normally indicates fruiting possibility. I kept hoping as the warm weather turned hot but still nothing. Then last week Jean asked me about the weird-looking lump in the middle of the clump.  It was only visible from her bedroom window and when I checked, there were the unmistakable rows of bananas preceded by the large oval flower bud with the point on the end, looking something like a large bird's head. At the same time, I realised that my largest Brugmansia., which had bloomed it's head off all summer planted in the garden, was now devoid of all of its leaves, but the buds (all 35 of them) were still hanging on and twenty eight of them are now open and blooming away! Yet another variety, that I was given by the 'Duchess", which is a variegated type with white blooms, had been left outside in its pot last winter, so of course, it was cut down, leaving just dead stubs. Halfway through the summer, I noticed new shoots just emerging from the surface and right now it is almost two feet high. I intend to leave it again all winter just to see if it will make it. The big “Charles Grimaldi” will surely die back as it is more exposed and it is too big to dig and return to the greenhouse where it spent last winter, but at least I have taken cuttings which are ridiculously easy to root One of the more interesting facts which I re-read dating back to 2012 was regarding the word 'sequester'', which I have used without really understanding it's meaning accurately This example involves the production of material from gaseous carbon dioxide. Apparently, a Dutch biologist planted a willow sapling in a pot containing 200lbs of compost and over a five-year period the sapling was only given water - nothing else. At the end of the five-year period, the sapling was removed, cleaned and weighed, topping the scales at 169lbs.The compost was removed from the pot, returned to the same state of dryness it had been originally and then also weighed, coming in at 199lbs 12ozs! Not too difficult to see why trees are planted to soak up atmospheric CO2.
I just had an Email from a seed company back home in Devon, England where my folks lived. I have bought seed from them for the last couple of years and both Lucy and Alison have had plants that I grew from some of that seed. The mail was offering a 20% reduction on all seed orders before the end of December and I thought some of you might be interested. Their inventory is quite large and unusual and they can be accessed at PlantWorldSeeds.com. Bearing in mind the terrific run there was on seed last Spring and knowing how I was unable to buy any of the seed that I wanted, I will be taking my order there very soon. I don't know if the 20% reduction only applies to me as a former customer or not, but if any of you would like to buy and find that the reduction doesn't apply to you, you can always let me know what you want and I can run the order with mine for the reduction benefit. just let me know ASAP so that we can get in under the wire. One of the stimulating things I re-read was regarding the natural enemies of the Brown Marmorated Stink bug. There is a yellow & black spider, three different Praying Mantids with varying novel ways of dealing with them. One chews off their legs to prevent escape and then munches on it like a sandwich. Another injects a fluid that pre-dissolves all that interior pudden and then sucks out all the protein. And talking of protein, the BMSB is apparently more highly nutritious protein-wise than a good steak. I have no idea who first discovered that but I can't imagine biting one whilst holding one's nose. You've got to be desperate.
Over the last several months we have been visited by two beautiful cats - one a long haired tabby - very friendly and the other a gorgeous white long haired creature with slight  grey marking around it's head. This cat seems to be caught on the horns of a dilemma as it sits at various spots all round the house , just staring at us, but when you attempt to go near - he moves away. Last Summer he and Pickle had a difference of opinion regarding just whose property this was and I had to step in and break them up before they took off. This hasn't fazed him at all - now he comes right up close and stares through windows where Pickle can see him resulting in some foul language. I also believe that he is rather frustrated as he watches Pickle shove through his cat flap - just above and to one side of my bed, but cannot seem to work out how this works. And so last week, after Pickle came through at around 2:30 am with the usual bang, White cat followed him and hammered four times on the flap and ran off. He has since developed the habit of sitting just the other side of the flap staring in and Pickle is getting a bit paranoid. He hasn't used the flap more than six times in the last few months.
Then just a wee while ago, following a couple of days of strong winds, I was reading in bed around 1am. Pickle was sitting upright alongside me, watching the bedroom door - quite unlike his usual attitude, where he lays across my leg and sleeps.  I thought that it was a bit unusual, but was totally surprised when suddenly Big White Fluffy cat casually walked through the door, from the house side. I asked him what he was doing there, but he ignored the question, turning around and disappearing into the dark.
Pickle and I got out of bed and followed BWF cat, turning on all lights as I went, up and downstairs. no sign of him. I noticed that there seemed to be a slight cool breeze coming from my workshop and going in there I noticed that a new service door I had fitted was slightly ajar. I hadn’t yet fitted a lock, but just left a heavy chunk of wood leaning against the door to hold it closed. The strong winds had shifted the block and the door was swinging. I closed and wedged the door tight and fixed the lock next day, but from then BWF cat has never returned. I find small piles of white fur in odd places where he must groom, but no cat! Strange.
I think that I might try to get back into running a PeaPatch at Luther Burbank Park. I have no idea if there are any available right now nor how to find out with the CCMV closed up, but I have to do something. The raised beds that Jill has allowed me to use for some years have now been removed. I was told that she was afraid that I might get dizzy and fall off the edge of the raised ground - a six foot tumble over rocks. But I think it must be that their son has now taken up permanent residence in the house with his fiancee and they want to keep the coast clear. Reasonable.
Anyway, I need to do it as I currently have no place to grow veggies.
Sunday there will be a virtual re-union of those who attended the virtual clinics during the year - BYOB. Rather a neat idea but not to be compared to our bun fights. Another interesting thing that came to light in reading the Natters is that way back in 2013 it was proposed that advanced classes be offered leading to Advanced recognition for those who took it and possibly passed a test. The idea was approved and was to be pursued. 'Have to raise the question as it seems to me that there has always been the threat of MG loss purely because of stasis.Yet another point which should be settled is when existing MGs from outside States move to WA and wish to continue. Many have been turned off & away by being told that they must retake the whole  3 month class again including the $fee. This, I could sort of understand if they came up from Florida say, but two that I know of came from Oregon and how different can Oregonian plants be to WA?     Can we afford to be so profligate with trained and keen MGs, especially now that we will be missing a whole year of intake and possibly losing quite a few from this year too?
I have recently been in contact with a guy who was at my old school at the same time I was - just a year ahead of me. I have no idea how he found my details as I didn't know him at school, but we have been trading emails back and forth now for some time. His wife died recently so he is obviously now alone and I think this correspondence is good for him, I certainly enjoy it. The strange thing is that he lived no more than 1000 yards away from me and from photographs that he has sent I know the masters and most of the swim team he was part of - just not him. We seem to share a huge number of things in common. He also attended the same middle school that I did - well he had to, there was nothing else around. I had to remind him of the various staff names and subjects as he couldn't remember a single one. In biology, he sat next to one of my best friends - Dave Bellamy. His interests are similar. He and his wife worked in the States for years. They had Siamese cats too  He is interested in cars and he is rather lucky at the moment as his two daughters have taken charge of a sports car that he built and ran for years and are having it restored - just needing the glass replaced now and some final tuning work done on the engine. I was to have seen him when I was back home two years ago until my busted ribs and having to look after my sister intervened. Bedtime calls right now, but I am ashamed that I haven't maintained a more regular correspondence with you as I have in the past. I will try a little harder in 2021 - perhaps there will be more happening then - I certainly hope so.
Your fearless leader,Gordon
PS Don't forget - those whose CE levels are a wee bit below par. Don't leave it to the last minute. Talk to me.
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