#and just in general dealing with sycophants

[retiredteabag]

Unknown Rivals

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: There was only one thing worse than being paired with Sukuna for an important school project, and that was realizing the slacker somehow had a higher class standing than yourself.

Tags: Academic rivals, enemies to eventual lovers, type A reader, mentions on anxiety.

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been partnered with Sukuna for weeks now, and you were starting to lose it. After turning in your draft for the final presentation, you had learned of your classmates status as a student.

After having assumed that every meeting the two of you held was more of a free tutoring session for the lazy man, it would turn out Sukuna was the only student in class who was rivaling your own grades.

After this information had been absorbed, you left class without so much as a glace the boy's way.

It killed you to know that he was so nonchalant, that he barely put any effort into class and work yet he was up there with you.

He likely thought you a fool, all that time "teaching" him, he probably spent mocking you.

You couldn't help the flood of thoughts that overtook you, thoughts of him mocking you to his friends, thoughts of him screenshotting your messages to send to some group chat, thoughts of him making jeers at your intellect while you explain a concept ad nauseam.

Oh, how you hated him.

It didn't help that you so desperately craved approval from others. Teachers, friends, parents. You wanted it all. If you hadn't their validation, what did you have?

You worked tirelessly to earn the grades you maintained, even if people teased you, called you stuck up, or a sycophant. Was it so wrong to want to be liked?

And here he was, above it all, putting little to no effort into his work and still coming out on top.

He must have found it real funny. Probably had a good laugh every Friday when you met to "work" on your project.

That is why you found yourself writing up a short email, explaining how you no longer had an interest in meeting with him to prep. Requesting he develop his final presentation alone and informing him that from that day forward you would research, write, and present separately.

You hadn't even requested he send in his work for your review, though he had never done it before. No, you would do your part as far away from Sukuna as you possibly could and hope he never looked your way again.

This project was a big deal, you would be presenting it not just to your classmates and professors, no, but company stakeholders as well. They would be coming out to the auditorium to see students speak during finals. Some might even be looking for possible interns.

Apparently Sukuna knew what he was doing so maybe you didn’t need to monitor his work.

You were still going to stress about it though.

--

"UGH! I just cringe to think of every conversation. Why was he even meeting with me?"

You and your roommate had gone out for dinner and you were regaling her with the woes of your school project while she dipped her fries in a generous coating of milkshake.

"That boy looks like he's never held a coherent thought in his head, I doubt he cared to spare any consideration to something other than himself." She spoke with her mouth full, taking another bite, "He looks pretentious."

She wiped her fingers off on her jeans and reached for another handful of fries.

"But that's just the thing" You sigh, "he looks like he wouldn't handle complex thought but-" you're cut off by her giggle but you push onward, "-I'm serious! But he's apparently some wonder boy, a reeeeeal academic." You end your thought with a huff, dipping a nugget into some ketchup, and finishing your meal.

"Well now your Fridays are free, that's nice at least." She shrugs and all you can do is nod. "Who would have thought popular Sukuna is a nerd like you."

"He's not a nerd." You point a finger at her, "He doesn't even study! And I don't get why everyone likes him, he pays nobody the time of day."

"Are you kidding me?" She makes an incredulous laugh, raising her browns.

"What?"

"You haven't the slightest clue why he's so popular? Have you seen the man?"

As much as you hate to admit it... she was a little right. He was undeniably attractive. And his tattoos stretched across his body in a way that made him look like art. He wasn't a peacock either, flaunting himself, he seemed indifferent to the whole thing. He really was just one lucky bastard.

I seriously hate that guy.

--

The next week was filled with your typical busyness, avoiding your project partner didn't really occupy too much space in your mind, especially since he hadn't taken the curtesy to even respond to your email.

That was why, when you eventually saw him straighten his posture the second you entered the shared class, him stalking your movements carefully, you couldn't help but feel frustrated.

Did he say anything? No. Did he try to get your attention? No. But he kept looking at you, and every so often during the lecture, you could feel his gaze in your direction. Serving to annoy you further. He could pay no attention in class and still catch up to your academic level.

Stop being a distraction.

Ugh.

--

After the last fiasco with this professor, you weren't exactly looking forward to sharing a word so you found yourself packing up the moment class was over. It hadn't even taken you putting away your folder for you to feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction. Sukuna spoke.

"We should probably discuss the presentation."

This might have been the most you had ever heard him say at a time. About school or otherwise.

"I sent you an email, you know?"

You shuffle your bag to fit everything comfortably and zip it up. Continuing on, "We already split everything up, if you'd like to see my slides so you can match my format you'll find them in the email I sent." You swung your bag over your shoulder, "Last week."

You were making your way to the classroom door, fully prepared for him to shrug it off, but he seemed to have kept up with your pace, speaking down into your ear as you made it to the threshold.

"I've looked over your slides. That's not what I'm talking about." He followed behind you, opening the classroom door wider to stand next to you.

"Sukuna. I emailed you. I've emailed you several times. What about our project do we need to discuss that you couldn't have just emailed me about?" You try to keep your voice down, your professor was still at his desk.

"Shouldn't we... I don't know, be practicing?" He shrugs.

"...What?"

"Practicing? For our presentation? I don't know, I figured you would be the type to want things to flow smoothly."

You pull back, "I do want things to flow smoothly, like I already stated in the email, I am going to present first, then wait for questions, and then you'll go and do the same."

He raises a brow, "I got that." The way he looks at you and speaks so patronizingly distinct as if to suggest you were the slow one. "I'm just saying, we should practice at least once, I want to make sure you can do it."

It took you a moment to understand what he had just said. No way, NO WAY he had just suggested that YOU didn't know what you were doing. You bark out a laugh. "I'm sorry? You want to make sure I can do it?"

He stands still, looks up at the ceiling, and hums, "Well, you're so anal about stuff, I figured you'd want to."

You can hear the blood pounding in your ears, "I'm sorry I like things to be done right." You swing your bag a little more aggressively. "I'll send you my presentation notes so you can make sure I can do it."

You start to march down the hall, offended by his lackadaisical insults when he swoops up to you in just a few strides. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying.... wouldn't it soothe your anxiety to go over it together? I don't think it's wrong to suggest that we would do better after having gone over it at least once."

Oh sure, he was thinking about your anxiety, how kind. You roll your eyes.

You saw him out of your periphery and clutched your bag to your chest as he approached. When you turned to see him he had his arms raised in defense. "If you really care so much I'll add my slides to the presentation and send it to you."

"Good." You swung back. "I've only been asking for," you roll your eyes, walking backward to one of the campus exits, "oh, I don't know, weeks?"

"Fine." He huffed, squinting at you, "But we seriously should go over it so I can be sure you don't ruin my work with your public speaking." He was smirking at you, you had never seen that look on his face and you hoped never to see it again.

"Oh-" You gasp, "my gosh." You stomp away, whipping out your keys, "Thanks Sukuna, I'll try not to ruin all your hard work since you're such a team player."

That man was dead to you.

--

You would never say it to his face, but as finals approached, you were beginning to feel the typical sickness in your stomach. You made recordings of your note cards to listen to at night, practiced your speech endlessly, and changed the batteries in your clicker at least three times.

You had always been anxious, memories of puking before tests as a child still live on in the churning of your gut. This anxiety helped to motivate you but was unnecessarily intense, your own mother had told you to loosen up in the past but that was simply not something you were capable of controlling.

"Well, you're so anal about stuff-"

Oh, that man pissed you off. And after all that effort to seem cool and composed in all of your "tutoring" sessions, he could still tell that you cared. Cared more than you should.

You would never be the cool girl.

And this was why you were growing more upset with the understanding that you felt- you knew you really would feel better if you could just have the chance to practice your speeches.

But your pride had gotten in the way.

Couldn't he have just said that he wanted to practice instead of making it seem like he didn't believe in you?

His email did come, by the way. No words, just an attachment.

And damn him, the slides we good, not too crowded, and perfectly concise, he even had his speaker notes included and as you whispered them to yourself while sitting on your mattress you became determined.

You would not let this man outperform you. There would be employers present looking for interns and if you wanted to be noticed you could not be seen as the weak leak between the two of you. Especially not if it was Sukuna.

You started your email at 11 that night and rewrote for far too long.

Yes, you would practice your presentation with him, because and ONLY because you wouldn't allow him to drag you down.

It would also help settle your nerves, but he didn't need that confirmation.

It was on. Partner or not, you were fighting for the top spot in class and if your speaking ability fell short in comparison to his, you could not ever stand to look at him again.

But one thing you knew for sure as you sent the email, was that your advisor would be receiving some correspondence about avoiding a certain someone in future semesters.

It was past midnight. You started drafting a note about your class enrollment needs.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Tags: @blueyesuguru @monimonster57

[solelyseeking]

AITA for trying to bag the new kid at my school? PART 3.

Due to the continued lack of progress, I am back, seeking help from the vagrant scum of this subreddit.

Dear basement dwellers and unwashed perverts: If even I, Tom Riddle, cannot get a date, then there truly is no hope for the rest of you.

Time to freshen up your cleaning charms and “lock in”.

For those of you whining about how I ought to just ‘approach him like a normal person’- I am not a normal person. I am a God, baptized in the blood of my enemies. Stop giving me meaningless platitudes, and start helping me smell his hair!

His little sycophant has been following him around everywhere, which has only made approaching him harder. Orion calls himself Harry’s ‘best friend’, but everyone knows Harry only hangs out with him because he feels so sorry for him. (Generations of inbreeding made one ugly baby lol!)

Harry’s very charitable like that. All the more reason to indoctrinate him into my cult, but he’s being weirdly stubborn about the whole thing?

“I don’t wanna learn dark magic, Tom.”

“I don’t believe in blood surpremacy, Tom.”

“Stop trying to take me into your murder dungeon, Tom.”

Isn’t that ridiculous? Anyone with half a brain would love to be invited into my murder dungeon the esteemed chamber built by my lineage!

Harry is very lucky to have so many muscles, as no one expects much brilliance from him. Still, I know he’s cleverer than he lets on. Just the other day, he noticed me cursing Grace Bell for lingering too long outside of the Quidditch changing rooms.

I was just looking out for him. And clearly I was right to do so, since I caught her creeping around while I was waiting for him to emerge, shirtless and damp, from his post game shower. Imagine the kind of obsessed weirdos he’d have to deal with if I wasn’t there to curse them all!

Still, other people would have been totally fooled- but not Harry. He gets me.

Clearly, he’s paying a lot of attention to me, so how can I capitalize on that? I tried spilling a bit of my potion on him in class the other day, so I could remove my shirt sensually and dry the liquid off of him. Only, then he started shouting at me about how I “wasn’t going to get away with this like I did with Myrtle.”

See- another example of how well he knows me! (That’s a girl I killed near my murder dungeon lol)

As you can see, this is a dire situation. Hurry up and provide me with some useful information before he kisses the incest baby.

Harry is very handsome, and I cannot afford to waste time. I have enclosed a photograph of him so that you wastes of genetic material understand the stakes.

[Harry_Potter_Riddle.Jpeg]

suziehiggins: oh, i get it. that guy is adorable

| OP: Stay away from my man, Susan.

Orion.Black: @harryjamespotterr

| OP: You will rue this day, you incestuous hellspawn.

harryjamespotter: Tom, is this some kind of prank?

| OP: Who is Tom I’ve never heard that name in my life.

| harryjamespotter: you literally posted a picture of yourself in the last update…

| ed_hardy: It’s okay, he was just catfishing

| OP: NO I WAS NOT

goonermachine: did you doodle Tom + Harry = Soulmates all over his picture?

| OP: I know you have eyes so I don’t see why you’re asking me such a stupid question. Yes

[mama-qwerty]

Loving your analysis on the Sonic 3 lore. May I request a deep dive into Agent Stone’s character? I just think he’s neat and had some character development throughout the films.

In talking about Agent Stone, we have to talk about Robotnik's mindset and dynamic in relation to him. Stone doesn't exist in a vacuum, and it's his relationship with Robotnik that helped shape him over the course of the movies.

Gonna get looooong. Again. Because I just can't shut up when I get started.

In the first movie, Stone's simply an assistant, an over achieving second to Robotnik. (Possibly the only agent who could stand to put up with him for so long.) He was a little brown nosey, and portrayed the stereotypical characteristics of a really good assistant that we see in other media, going back as far as Radar from M.A.S.H. He anticipated his boss' needs, and supplied them almost before they were requested.

Robotnik obviously didn't respect him, even if he liked how Stone made his latte. Although I'd be hard pressed to think of anyone Robotnik actually respected or liked, honestly.

But it was curious why Robotnik then created a likeness of Stone to keep him company on the mushroom planet. It could be explained away that Robotnik was used to talking about his plans out loud, used to spouting about how brilliant he was, and what he felt were clever quips and barbs at those he deemed 'lesser' than himself, and needed an audience to do so. Not to mention, having a 'companion' of sorts helped keep him focused. Since Stone had been his latest lackey, the most recent sycophant to hang on his every word, he simply went the most convenient route and used him as a placeholder for this required role.

But was that all there was to it?

Robotnik went to the trouble of carving a face onto the rock. Carrying it with him wherever he went as he traversed the planet, seeking out sustenance and shelter and concocting his Rube Goldbergian machinations to make himself a cup of mushroom coffee. As a man of science, a man who prioritized his own survival and logical nature over useless sentimentality, it's curious he would go to the trouble of not only creating a likeness of Stone, but 'wasting' precious energy and cargo space carrying it around.

Which indicated that Stone's presence had a greater impact on the doctor than he admitted or realized, even to himself.

This is further reinforced by the doctor's manifesto, as referenced in the Sonic 2 pre-quill comic. In that, we learn that Robotnik left this as a sort of instruction manual for Stone to "rebuild [Robotnik's] glory on a mass scale". It guided Stone to "rebuild [himself] as an instrument of pure science", and helped Stone to infiltrate the Mean Bean and rise through the ranks to ultimately own it, and create that as a home base for further operations.

This indicates that Robotnik saw promise in Stone, and trusted Stone more than he'd likely trusted anyone else. Yes, it was all to build a society that Robotnik orchestrated, but the fact that he created the manifesto, with the intention of having Stone read and implement it, showed a greater reliance on Stone than previously indicated.

So Stone is in place, having transformed the Mean Bean into a secret base worthy of the best super villains. And now he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

All the while having to deal with the public.

As anyone who's worked in any kind of customer service job can tell you, dealing with the public day in and day out can drive anyone to thoughts of villainy. That last customer Stone deals with is a prime example of this, with the rude looks and actions, and overall disdain and contempt for service people in general, and possibly him in particular.

He misses the doctor, because he understood the doctor. Robotnik was a big thinker, someone who had higher aspirations and goals than anyone he'd ever met before. He didn't hold a high opinion of the general public, and the more Stone deals with them, the more he understands that mindset. And through the manifesto, Stone likely felt even more connected to Robotnik.

It's possible that Stone's feelings for the doctor didn't start out as a more personal, emotional kind of love. It's possible, and likely, they were simply admiration, because Robotnik was incredibly intelligent, and never let anything stop him from achieving his goal. In Stone's experience, it was possible that the previous people he worked with didn't have that level of dedication. So when he got with Robotnik, it was refreshing to see someone taking his position seriously, and not simply 'doing a job'.

But when Robotnik was bested by the hedgehog, and sent to the mushroom planet, Stone may have felt a little rudderless. Since he was working with Robotnik, and Robotnik himself had been wiped from GUN's database, Stone may have been a casualty of that as well. He was simply a 'lowly agent', so it wasn't that much of a loss to wipe him, too.

Either that, or he intentionally kept himself hidden to avoid being captured and grilled regarding anything else Robotnik may have been doing. Stone strikes me as the kind of man who can blend in with a crowd, and disappear at will.

He knows the system, and knows how to exploit it.

When the doctor returned, Stone was thrilled. Everything he'd worked for up to this point was finally going to be recognized, and he wanted nothing more than to pick up where he and the doctor left off, working together and striving for a better world.

Since Stone had been working at the Mean Bean, a place within Green Hills, he likely saw Sonic on and off. He couldn't blow his cover, no one knew he'd worked with Robotnik, after all, but GOD, seeing that hedgehog would have made the bile rise in his throat. This little alien, this cocky little furball had bested the doctor and sent him away, as though he were in the wrong. And this entire town supported it! And here was this blue rat, living here on Earth as though he belonged.

That fact alone would have pushed Stone even further to the side of Robotnik, thinking that the general public is nothing but "primitive, sport-cheering, social media-scrolling knuckle-draggers". They'd cheered the defeat of a genius, one who was simply trying to capture this unknown alien element that has proven itself capable of destruction on a mass scale, and call him the bad guy. Yes, his methods had been maybe a little unorthodox, but when dealing with such an enemy as an alien with super speed and the ability to create large blasts of energy, you had to think outside the box.

But he was finally back, and he'd brought yet another little spiky furball. And had left with it, leaving Stone behind yet again. But that was okay. He would return. Stone was sure of it.

And he had. But he'd been . . . different. Gotten the Master Emerald, and was . . . changed. And when GUN showed up, Robotnik had put his genius on display, and taken Stone with him this time. It was glorious, but had taken Stone a little bit to catch up. (Thankfully there was a manual!)

Then everything had gone pearshaped again, and those furballs won.

No matter.

Stone was a patient man.

He knew GUN's procedures and it took hardly a moment to infiltrate their ranks. He used their own technology and manpower to find Robotnik amid the rubble, and scurried him away to heal and regroup. One of the things included in the manifesto was blueprints of many machines and creations, and Stone had put Robotnik's drones to work building a giant crab bot.

GUN may have had eyes everywhere, but the ocean was still a mystery in may ways. And it hid may a secret.

But as the doctor healed, he fell into a deep depression. Being bested by the blue rodent not once, but twice, had done a number on his psyche. He'd lost all drive for world domination. His access to any of his drones and bots had been all but severed, and there were only a scant few satellites still in orbit with them aboard. Hardly enough to wage an all out assault, especially with THREE alien vermin on Earth to challenge him.

No. Robotnik was utterly demoralized.

But Stone stayed by his side. He kept Robotnik comfortable, and tried to reignite that spark within him. Tried to suggest heists and schemes to keep his spirits up. But it was to no avail. Stone stepped up, assuming a caretaker role, and offering support whenever he could.

He kept tabs on GUN's comings and goings, and when the board lit up after Shadow was released, he went to investigate. He found those rodents pinned down by drones, but not just any drones, Robotnik drones. This wouldn't do. If anyone was going to use those drones to take out these annoying little furballs, it would be Robotnik himself.

So he killed the drones--with the annoying side effect of saving the rodents--and returned to base. The aliens had followed, but he was keen enough to realize they had a common enemy.

An alliance was formed, and Stone had to admit that it was good to see the doctor more like his old self. Unsurprisingly, Robotnik very quickly narrowed down the source of the hijacked drones, and the group quickly went to investigate.

But then they'd found that old man. And Robotnik had tossed Stone to the curb because suddenly he had found his 'real' family, someone who would love him unconditionally.

And it hurt.

Stone never fooled himself to think he was ever on Robotnik's level. He was nowhere near as smart as the doctor, and couldn't even comprehend how the man thought. But he'd thought they were more than simply villain and henchman. Robotnik trusted Stone, more than he'd ever trusted anyone else. Stone had seen Robotnik at his lowest. At his most vulnerable. And didn't care.

Typical henchmen wouldn't stick around when the boss is defeated. They wouldn't drag his body out from under a felled robot and keep him safe. Help him heal. Fetch him burritos and cheap novels and steal cable to hook him up with episodes of La Ultima Pasion to help him pass the time.

Stone was still following Robotnik's manifesto, even when Robotnik himself had given up. Because he had faith that the doctor would eventually snap back to himself. That he would realize that the world needed him to correct it.

And that someday, maybe, Robotnik would see Stone for being the one person who'd stood by him, from the very beginning.

And he had.

When it was too late.

Robotnik's message to Stone as he managed to stave off the final explosion of the ARK gave Stone that validation he'd been looking for. Told Stone that, even though Robotnik was terrible at expressing himself, he had, in his own way, loved Stone right back. Appreciated Stone. Valued Stone.

And that's all Stone had ever wanted to hear.

And maybe, that gives Stone the encouragement he needs to continue with Robotnik's manifesto.

~~~

Check out my other Sonic 3 analysis posts

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Lol.

This will be short. I’ll go on a little tangent but I’ll tie this back to Jungkook and BTS at the end.

You know, I was mostly ambivalent about the feud between HYBE and Min Heejin until I heard her call Bang Sihyuk and his sycophants “bastards” for ‘overpaying for garbage and forcing everyone to eat it because they think the price makes the music good.’ - I’m paraphrasing a bit because her language was more crude. That made me sit up a bit, because her sentiments mirrored my thoughts about the direction Bang Sihyuk has been taking the company in for some time now.

Another random connection is that, to me at least, it seems clear BigHit is still trying to make the HYBE America investment worth it, given:

1. The unnecessarily long credit lists filled with Scooter-linked writers that appear to have become a fixture of most HYBE releases. Bang PD is clearly taking advantage of Scooter’s connections although it’s yet to yield any significant improvement in music quality, and in terms of chart performance the results are mixed at best;

2. The fact that in addition to HYBE paying US$1.05 Billion in cash for Scooter’s company, essentially overpaying for Ithaca Holdings by consensus estimates (a deal Min Heejin also openly criticized as being hare-brained), HYBE America still generated hundreds of millions of dollars in losses as of the last fiscal year, two years after the acquisition was finalized.

But this is old news, we all knew that.

The thing about Min Heejin’s comments that concerned me is that, despite what is now clearly an underperforming investment both in terms of Scooter Braun himself and the man at HYBE that arranged the deal in the first place, Lee Jae-sang, rather than work to correct course and minimize losses, Bang Sihyuk appears to be doubling down on the deal by rewarding these two men in particular with more music and business opportunities within HYBE, even if the music quality suffers as a result, even if HYBE continues overpaying for shit, and even if the artists/idols are negatively impacted in the process. And according to Min Heejin, one big reason Bang Sihyuk allows it is because those men are adept at greasing his arse and eating it out.

Basically, it’s become an expensive joke. But he’s brute forcing the deal to work because so long as BTS is involved and so ARMYs are involved, it’s a joke that Bang PD is guaranteed to take laughing all the way to the bank.

This is where I say I realized shortly after Jungkook’s fan song for Festa was announced, that I wasn’t excited to hear it. I’m saying this only because now that the song is out, it’s confirmed everything I expected. And also because that apathetic feeling was so at odds with how I’ve been feeling about Jungkook as a person for the last year. If it’s not been clear from my reblogs and gush posts, I’ve been spending the better part of this hiatus loving Jungkook extremely. Jungkook is an empathetic songwriter, an emotive vocalist, a talented producer.

But nothing about Never Let Go is exciting. Who wants to listen to a fan song written by people who’ve never had fans? And on top of that, Jungkook is making less money from that song than any fan song he’s written before. Meaning, the song is mediocre, it feels blatantly insincere in ways only a crowdsourced fan song can be, and Jungkook has to split his revenue from the song with about 10 white people. Just look at this.

I’m actually laughing typing this out, but this turn of events is at least a little tragic.

Golden worked as a concept album because it was a collection of songs Jungkook felt represented his taste, he could take on the challenge of putting out a full English album with some help from the writers, and he showcased new vocal techniques and styles that only showed an evolution from his prior work in BTS. The songs themselves were just okay, good decent pop, but as a collection it worked.

Everything about Never Let Go feels almost audaciously soulless. Not quite a slap on the face but it’s like someone coming all up in your face with a bad case of halitosis and their nose barely touching yours, daring you to do something about it.

I have no issue with HYBE working with Scooter-linked writers or producers if it means something actually good comes of it. But it seems HYBE seems to believe their work is better simply because they slap on as many foreign names in the credits as they can fit. It betrays a worrying mentality about the head honchos in the company. Looking at the peak quality in FACE by Jimin, or in Right Place, Wrong Person by RM, which included acclaimed Korean, other Asian, and Black talent supposedly hand-picked by Jimin and Joon themselves, it’s clear HYBE has access to remarkable home-grown and foreign talent that could improve the work of the members. But what I’m seeing with too much frequency is HYBE picking off the bottom of the barrel in the unending list of Scooter’s contractors and otherwise choosing to do the bare minimum.

And that’s how we end up with a Festa fan song with a topline that sounds like an AI-generated jingle written by a soccer team of hired help.

Or idk, maybe I’m being just a bit too full of it. Maybe I’ve been brainwashed by the witch Min Heejin, maybe this was just one more song Jungkook worked on with his Golden team as he had no time to write a proper fan song, nothing more. And maybe as a silver lining, there are no glaring grammatical errors though I found the ones in My You very charming, and honestly part of the appeal. To hear the way Jungkook sees the fans who have been with him till now, even if in English it didn’t quite make sense.

I said this would be short but I’ve rambled, as usual. Sorry for that. When I started out writing this post, I did intend to keep it short.

To end things on a somewhat lighter note, for me the only thing I’m excited about this Festa, is SeokJin coming back. I’ll be working on a deal during the fanmeet so I didn’t bother participating in the raffle, but I’m happy for the ARMYs who get the opportunity to hug Jin, and for Jin who gets to spend time with his fans after so long. With him returning, things are starting to feel more right, even though there are worrying signs in high places. We’ve got about 1 year left to endure most of the members enlisted and then, the crew will be rounded up again.

Now more than ever, I find myself looking forward to that.

[mariacallous]

No one expects him to resign, not only because he lacks the decency and integrity to do so after arguably the worst day in Israel’s history. It's also because of the criminal charges he faces.

Resigning is counterproductive to his personal interests and they, not the State of Israel, are what counts. His trial, not Israel's security, is his priority. He has lost all legitimacy and can't be trusted, certainly at a time of war when such monumental decisions need to be made.

That he's the first prime minister in the history of democracies to wage war on his own country, on its institutions and foundations, is clear. For years, but especially since he launched his antidemocratic constitutional coup in January, he has declared war on Israel’s elites, the judicial system, the checks and balances and by extension the military he views as an elitist cabal undermining his political agenda.

The popular pushback to his attempted regime change now looks like distant history, because Saturday October 7 wasn't only a tragedy on an epic scale, it was a debacle and an inflection point. Netanyahu and his cabinet callously betrayed the sacred trust, the core of Israelis' compact with their government: security.

For this there is no redemption, no contrition, no salvation. He must go and he must go now. No excuses, no political deals, no mitigating circumstances. For all intents and purposes, he's incapacitated and can't discharge the duties of his office.

His government is extremist, messianic, hollow, inept and inherently kakistocratic – government of the worst. It buckled in the first moment of crisis. He and his dysfunctional ministers betrayed Israel, and effectively his government is no longer functional, except maybe for the defense minister.

He isn't Winston Churchill, to whom he likens himself, and he isn't Abraham Lincoln. No one looks up to him at the ultimate moment of tragedy and crisis; only sycophants trust him.

His record is one of incompetence and gung ho delusion – and there is a clear and present danger that all his wartime decisions will be polluted by personal, legal and petty political considerations. He can't be trusted, nor is he credible to manage the war that is only just beginning.

His constitutional coup has categorically harmed national security and taken a high toll on the military's preparedness. He was warned about this by the military's chief of staff and by former prime ministers, defense ministers, chiefs of staff and hundreds of former generals.

In fact, in March he casually fired Defense Minister Yoav Gallant because Gallant was expected to deliver a statement arguing that Netanyahu’s constitutional coup was endangering Israel’s security. He has shown arrogant recklessness, dereliction of duty and responsibility, as well as gross negligence in managing Israel’s national security.

Now look at his foreign policy and geopolitical record. It's nothing short of abysmal. Let’s go through the areas one by one, starting with his bogus claim to fame. How ludicrous does his decade-old bragging look – that only he can save Israel, and indeed Western civilization, from the regime of the messianic mullahs?

Iran. The Islamic Republic has accumulated enough fissile material to produce five nuclear bombs, according to the Pentagon. It has reached unprecedented levels of uranium enrichment. Meanwhile, it has further deepened its hold in Syria, Lebanon and Gaza while tightening relations with Russia and China.

Hezbollah in Lebanon. Thanks to Iranian material support and political mentorship, the Shi'ite organization is as strong as ever. After what has happened with Hamas in Gaza, the arrogant statement that “Hezbollah is deterred” should never be taken seriously again.

The Palestinians. Here the record is just as ominous. Hamas has launched the most lethal attack on Israel ever. Whatever the outcome of the current war, during Netanyahu’s reign Hamas has become as strong as ever, armed as ever, audacious and murderous as ever.

Netanyahu, the man who just a few years ago vainly pledged to “obliterate Hamas,” has done nothing. Absolutely nothing. He has effectively strengthened Hamas, allowed tens of millions of dollars from the Gulf to be funneled to the terror group to implode the Palestinian Authority so he can proceed with annexation.

Under Netanyahu, the PA's weakness and ineptness has brought Israel closer than ever to the unviability of the two-state model. Israel is dangerously close to a binational state where reality is binary: Either Israel ceases to be a Jewish state or becomes an apartheid state. A majority of Israelis want neither.

In the international arena Netanyahu boasted during the 2019 and 2020 election campaigns that he's “in a different league.” Those huge posters showed him with Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump, but in this arena where he pretends to be a world leader, the record is strikingly unimpressive.

The United States. He has not been invited to the White House in the 10 months since his new term began. The Americans' criticism, including by President Joe Biden, of his constitutional coup is unprecedented.

Russia. His friendship and mutual admiration with Putin was so fruitful that Russia is now aligned with Iran, buying drones and other weapons. Even his morally depraved policy of not standing with Ukraine – to be fair, a policy he inherited from the previous government led by Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid – hasn’t won him any points with Putin.

China. Two months ago, Netanyahu ostentatiously declared that he was invited by Xi Jinping to Beijing, while a “senior source” added that the idea was to signal to Biden that “Israel has options.” Not only is China expanding relations with Iran, it has also been condemned by Israel for its “balanced” stance on Hamas’ massacre of civilians.

Is Netanyahu's record so dismal? Of course not. He has forged a great friendship with Viktor Orbán, the towering intellect from Hungary. And he spent 25 minutes with French President Emmanuel Macron earlier this year. Plus he really likes Narendra Modi of India, and while Hamas was planning its attack he flew all the way to California to chat with Elon Musk about artificial intelligence. Stellar.

Netanyahu cannot and should not be trusted to manage Israel at this juncture. The mechanics for removing him are complicated and there is no clear path. But placing any trust in a man who got Israel here is far more irresponsible.

Netanyahu Must Go Now, Not After the Gaza War

[sjerzgirl]

🛰️ So let me get this straight: A decorated Space Force commander stationed at a NATO base in Greenland—yes, the icy, Danish, not-for-sale Greenland—gets fired for doing what military officers are supposedly trained to do: tell the truth, defend our allies, and honor their oath to the Constitution. Her crime? Sending an email saying Denmark is our friend after Vice President JD Vance waddled through Pituffik Base like a mall cop trying to annex the food court.

That’s it. That’s the whole scandal. Col. Susan Meyers dared to say, “Hey, maybe we shouldn’t invade a NATO ally because the president had a real estate seizure in his dreams,” and for that, she’s out. Gone. Labeled unfit to lead by an administration that thinks “nonpartisan conduct” means licking Trump’s boots until the polish runs out.

This isn’t leadership. This is North Korea with nukes and a Space Force patch.

And it gets worse. This firing isn’t a fluke. It’s part of a purge—a mass firing of senior military leaders, especially women—because apparently, the only thing more terrifying to this administration than the rule of law is female competence. They’re axing everyone who’s not goose-stepping to the MAGA drumbeat. You know who’s left? Yes-men and power-hungry sycophants with QAnon bumper stickers and Confederate flag boxers.

We are watching the militarization of delusion in real-time. Trump wants Greenland not because it’s strategic—though sure, he’ll say that—but because in his dementia-addled fantasyland, he thinks it’s a Flex Seal deal away from becoming Trump Resort: Ice Edition. JD Vance shows up, mutters some Manifest Destiny cosplay, and suddenly we’re threatening Denmark—DENMARK—with military force. A country that literally shares Legos and wind turbines with us.

And let’s be honest: this isn’t about Greenland. It’s about control. It’s about making every corner of the government—from the generals to the janitors—scared to tell the truth. If you so much as blink out of sync with the official lie, you’re purged, blacklisted, and publicly humiliated. This is what autocracies do. Replace experts with loyalists. Replace facts with slogans. Replace diplomacy with “my territory now.”

You think this ends with Greenland? Wake up. The message is crystal clear: Obey or be eliminated. It’s not just coming for the military. It’s coming for the media, the judiciary, you.

So if you’re wondering what the hell happened to America—this. This is what happened.

#FiredForFacts

#SpaceForcePurge

#GreenlandIsNotForSale

#MAGAAnnexationPlan

#AuthoritarianCreep

#ObeyOrBePurged

#EngageTheEnraged

#DenmarkDeservesBetter

#MilitaryIntegrityMatters

#ThisIsNotNormal

[starsreminisce]

What’s really interesting about the idea of choice is that Elain is no different than Feyre and Nesta. It's equally fascinating how both Feyre and Nesta, in their stories, initially chose someone else because they felt they deserved it, only to ultimately choose their mate who would give them the fate the Mother believed they deserved.

By the end of ACOTAR, Feyre’s bond snapped with Rhysand, but she ultimately left with Tamlin because she loved him that she was willing to die for him.

ACOMAF started with Feyre internally struggling, having trouble finding her place, and even dreading to accept what her role in the Spring Court entailed. Rhys rescues her during her wedding, and we see her thinking how uncanny it is that Rhys just knew what she was going through.

By the end of ACOMAF, Feyre decides to accept her mating bond after learning about it. The key difference is how Rhys empowers her.

ACOSF is a more condensed version, but Nesta chose to marry Eris, not out of love but because she felt she deserved to be with someone “as horrible as” Eris. Eris is plotting a coup against his father and, like Rhys, envisions a better Prythian once Beron is gone. Nesta is good at playing politics, but she is also fatigued by the idea of dealing with sycophants, which seems prevalent in the Autumn Court.

By the end of ACOSF, Nesta decides to talk to Cassian and accept the bond after he forces her to face it. Nesta unleashes her power when she thinks Cassian is gone, demonstrating that even with an unaccepted bond, the instinct overrides everything. It's not surprising that Nesta is now the leader of the Valkyries with her mate, the General of the Illyrian Army.

So, it’s even more interesting that we’re given two POVs of the sisters who underwent an unanswered bond, how proximity plays a huge role between them, and how the idea of choice was still integrated into their stories.

Feyre and Nesta still chose their mates because they align with the future they want, despite their initial choice of another male and a path they thought they wanted.

The only key difference with Elain is that she is aware of the bond, which is a double-edged sword. Elain can easily dismiss her draw towards Lucien as being related to the bond and, therefore, out of her control. Much like Feyre's POV shows, her mind wanders from Rhys from time to time. It wasn't until she was internally screaming for help that Rhys was the only person who not only heard her but came to her aid.

We knew that Feyre was not okay in ACOMAF, but no one else around her was aware of how bad her struggles were. Lucien helped Feyre as much as he could, but ultimately, it wasn't him who took Feyre out of her situation but her mate.

Are we to believe that Elain is "fine" when she's not included in any of the Inner Circle discussions? When Bryce arrived in Prythian, her show of solidarity for the Night Court by dressing in its colors was ill-suited. Despite wanting to do what it takes, her pleas to help were not only unanswered but flat-out discouraged by the same male others deemed her true equal.

Elain told Nesta that Nesta cannot resent her decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let her do anything greater.

Feyre, too, wanted the same thing when she was with Tamlin, and she found it in her mate.

Since SJM loves to remix her stories that all lead to the same conclusion because those are the stories she loves to write, is it a choice, is it fate, or is it both?

She's already answered this: it's both.

[staringdownabarrel]

The one thing with generative AI, especially the AI chatbots like ChatGPT and Grok, that I've been worried about for a while is the extent to which they'll basically be digital sycophants to people who need anything but a sycophant.

Recently, it's been reported that some domestic abusers have been using generative AI chatbots as a tool for their abuse. In practice, how this works is that the abuser will input intimate details of their relationship with their partner/victim, and the chatbot will spit out its nonsense siding with the abuser. As the linked article explains, it's to the extreme that even subreddits like r/AmITheAsshole, which hasn't always had the best track record on calling out people who need it, will sometimes side against people that ChatGPT will side with.

Even putting aside all the ethical dilemmas of how nobody knows how that information is going to be used in the future by the companies developing these "tools", this is a problem. I mean, the same people who will use "therapy speak" to justify their toxic, if not outright abusive, behaviours in a relationship will probably also be willing to use ChatGPT for this, too.

ChatGPT as a tool for abuse is an extreme example of this, but it is part of a broader trend I'm concerned about. There are a lot of people who are using it as a therapy tool, including people who can afford and probably could get access to a human therapist. My concern here is that a lot of the people who do that aren't really using generative AI as a therapy tool so much as a way of stroking their own egos.

That probably is a "water is wet" statement for most people reading this, but I think it bears stating. As much as people might like to say that it's because these people are lonely or because they've had issues with a real therapist in the past, which may actually be true in some cases, a lot of the trouble also is that these people would also like to have a sycophant, even if they wouldn't put it like that directly.

The trouble is that having a personal yes man seems great on paper, especially if you have low self esteem, but it's actually kind of terrible in practice. I've had friends with sycophant-y tendencies in the past, well before the current wave of AI was a thing, and it ended up being a contributing factor to the end of the friendships in question.

Ironically, those friendships ending ended up being the wake up call I needed in order to stop wanting that so badly. A lot of that is tied up in how I didn't just stop hearing from those people the day the friendships ended, but I kept hearing from them for years afterwards. The same tendencies which made them worship the ground I walked on also made it so they couldn't accept that they needed to stop doing that, basically.

I don't know if someone who's using ChatGPT as a sycophantic therapist will ever get to have the same wake up call. If you want to stop using an AI chatbot, you just close the tab and never use the service again. It's not like having a real life sycophant, where you might be dealing with the fallout from that for five or ten years longer than you initially hoped.

That's only going to be compounded for people at the extreme end of the spectrum who are using their AI sycophant as a tool to abuse a partner. It's not like with people who end up with one due to their self esteem issues. People like this might not be one bad experience away from realising the absurdity of what they're doing or what they're hoping for like I was.

Really, I feel like a lot of the trouble is still the question of how you get these people to see an actual therapist because, despite their claims to the contrary, AI chatbots are making them worse. People like this desperately need it, too. It's just that I worry that their bad habits are going to get reinforced through this "tool", and things are only going to get worse on this front before they get better.

[lord-aldhelm]

Aldhelm Character Analysis (and why I love him so much)

The following is a character study and my own opinions. I meant to post something like this several months ago when I started this blog, but I had so much other stuff going on I forgot about this in my drafts, so I am posting it now. I know there will be people who disagree with me, and others who maybe think I am being ridiculous or whatever, but I don't care. This is my blog and I want to share this because it is meaningful to me, and maybe perhaps it will resonate with someone. This is a kind of "about me" as well, but mostly a rambling mess about his character and some in depth analysis.

1.6k words, read more below the cut

Aldhelm means so much to me, more than any other character in any other show or movie I have watched. I have fallen super hard for this man; he has bewitched me body and soul, and just imbedded himself into the core of my being. He is my muse, and has profoundly permeated every creative aspect of myself, from creating this blog, screencaps/edits, gifs, memes, artwork, poetry (don't ask), and fanfics. No one else has managed to do that to me. This show in general, and him specifically, have led me deep into this fandom and made me do things that I have never done before.

My attraction to him goes far beyond just him being a pretty face; my feelings for him are complex and multi-faceted. Of course I think he is exceptionally handsome, and I find everything about him attractive. But I was attracted to his personality long before I was attracted to him physically. The two go hand in hand, and it takes more than just being a hot dude to hold my attention. This show is loaded to the brim with attractive people and yet he is the only one that has captivated me.

His Personality Traits

I love him for so many reasons. To me he is absolute perfection and I would not change a single thing about his character. He is introverted, quiet, soft-spoken, and dignified. He is highly intelligent, has a calm confident demeanor, and has a great fortitude for dealing with difficult situations. He is elegant and refined, despite sometimes coming off as awkward. I love his quick wit and dry sarcastic sense of humor. I melt whenever he rolls his eyes or sighs with exasperation. He is so pure and wholesome, and loves with his whole entire being. His selfless and unwavering devotion and loyalty to both Mercia and Aethelflaed are unmatched. He sets aside his own needs and desires to serve others, ultimately to his detriment. (He deserved better in so many ways) He has many personality traits that are normally only seen in women characters, while still being very much masculine, and I find that dichotomy incredibly appealing.

His Character Arc and Complexity

He is an incredibly complex character. One of the most complex, if not the most complex, character in the entire series. He experiences a lot of growth and change throughout his character arc, something that the other characters mostly lack. Uhtred's character arc is the typical "Hero's Journey" three act scenario, with most of his conflict being external (and let's be honest, a lot of it also as a result of his own actions), and his goal is to defeat the "big villain" and reclaim his birthright from his "evil uncle". However, Aldhelm's character arc is internal: his growth comes from introspection and internal conflict and change. He starts off as an antagonist, the "evil henchman" of Lord Aethelred (he actually was not a sycophant though, he was the one with the real power and control, at least in the beginning). But over the course of the series, you see him evolve and change, and become a better version of himself, shifting his allegiances away from Aethelred and to Aethelflaed. However, his true allegiance was always to Mercia. And even though he seemed "evil" in the beginning, when you realize his true motives, you realize just how complex he really is. The "redemption" arc he experienced was really more about serving a leader who was not self-serving, and by doing so he was able to become a better person.

His Romantic Appeal

Additionally, something about him triggers my nurturing instinct; I want to hold him in my arms and cuddle him for all eternity. He is so unbelievably sweet and gentle, and the way he was so soft around Aethelflaed just melted my heart. In fact. he embodies my idea of a perfect romantic partner. He is so calm, patient, understanding, eager to help out, very devoted and loyal, cares more about his partner's happiness than his own. I feel as a boyfriend or husband he would be very attentive and in tune to his partner's needs. Never arguing, or trying to avoid it as much as possible. Never raising his voice. He would go out of his way to do nice things for them just to make them happy. Acts of service, gift giving, quality time, and humor are his love languages.

He appears to me to be demi/ace coded. I don't know if that was intentional or not, but seeing ace representation on the screen is incredibly rare and refreshing. Especially since his sexuality, or lack thereof, is never really brought up or ridiculed by the other characters (as ace-presenting people so often are in media). I find his characterization in this way very comforting. I also find it delightful to see a male character who is not constantly talking about getting laid, making sex jokes, or aggressively pursuing or objectifying women. Much the opposite; he treats Aethelflaed with a level of respect and admiration that women are not often given by men. In fact he treats women in general with a lot of respect.

Seeing Myself In Him

But more than that, I see in him a reflection of myself, that I have not seen in any other character or real-life person, ever.

His quiet, contemplative, introverted nature, and preference for solitude matches my own. He is very Byronic/Jane Austen coded, with that brooding moody energy. Like me, he is the kind of person who dislikes bars, parties, or large gatherings of people, and prefers to keep to himself. He comes off as cold and calculating, but inside he is anything but. He is overwhelmed with emotion and allows himself to love wholly and intensely, despite not having his feelings reciprocated. Despite doing his best to hide his feelings, he actually wears his heart on his sleeve and allows others to use him just for the sake of feeling needed. He allows himself to cry, although he does so in private, not because he is ashamed, but because he wants to appear strong for others. He is the kind of person that hides the deeper parts of himself well from others, but I know that if you really got to bond with him, he would show you another side of himself, one that smiles freely and loves openly, laughs and jokes, and allows himself to be comfortable in the presence of others.

I feel his pain when he is ignored or his words are brushed off by others time and time again. As someone who has felt simultaneously invisible and freakishly "other" her whole life, I can identify with that strongly. I am always the one who others talk over or ignore in social settings. I have always felt like an outcast, even among my friends and peers. I never feel like I truly belong anywhere or with anyone, and have always felt like an outsider, just drifting along the perimeters of multiple social circles without ever fitting in. It is such a horrible feeling, and I empathize with him when I see him go through the exact same treatment.

I also feel his sense of uniqueness in that, like me, he is neither a leader nor a follower, but marches to the beat of his own drum. He had no desire to be Lord of Mercia even when it was offered to him (which I personally think was a mistake on his part). But I get it; I hate being in charge. I prefer to work behind the scenes and stay out of the spotlight myself. But while I am not a leader, neither am I a follower. I am always doing my own thing regardless of trendiness or popularity.

The biggest difference between him and I is that he is far more patient than I could ever be! He is much more level headed, whereas I tend to be more emotional and have a kind of firecracker reaction, especially when I am in an argument or when something upsets me. I think I would be a better person if I could learn to remain calm and collected during emotionally stressful times.

So, this is much more than me thinking the dude is super hot. And it also goes so far beyond me just thinking he is a cool and interesting character (which he is no doubt). He has actually become a permanent part of me, one that will not be replaced by the next hot thing to cross my screen. Even if I run out of things to post here (which will happen at some point), he will still occupy my thoughts, and I will still be drawing him, and writing for his character for a very long time to come.

[longsufferingcritic]

I like sarcastically saying No Fun Allowed as much as the next Tumblr user, and believe it or not I do like having fun myself, but honestly, there comes a point where certain people wanting to shut down any and all criticism of Hollywood blockbusters because "Why do you have to be so negative? Can't we just have fun?" borders on genuine anti-intellectualism. It certainly shows a dearth of media literacy to imply that you should only ever have positive things to say about works of fiction. So jokes aside, it's legitimately kind of concerning that a not-insignificant number of grown adults are vocal about this attitude.

Some adult fans of animated movies will say "it's just for kids, it's not that deep!" as a way to imply criticism is automatically petty and unreasonable BUT praise is just fine. I recently saw someone trot out "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all" in response to people criticizing Disney's colonialist/imperialist/racist messages. Because otherwise you might hurt the feelings of the $200,000,000,000 multinational entertainment conglomerate "who worked really hard on the movie". That person was dead serious.

In reality, mass media is not an elementary school play, it's an industry created by adult professionals and used to generate profit for multinational corporations. It is neither unreasonable nor unfair to say negative things about movies -- yes, even movies that you personally like, or that are intended for children. (Children are people who deserve high-quality media just as much as adults, if not more considering they are more vulnerable to media manipulation and marketing.)

Perhaps people should apply the "don't like, don't read" mantra to critical analysis instead of just to (fan)fiction itself. If people online saying not-nice things about a movie annoys you or makes you feel insecure, that's on you to deal with, not on everyone else to stop being critical; you have a right to your own opinion, not a right to demand that others keep quiet about our own opinions. It's fine to disagree with criticism or to enjoy a movie anyway, but decrying any and all criticism as invalid and mean-spirited by default is just bad faith.

And at the end of the day, toxic positivity and sycophancy is an incredibly shortsighted and damaging way to navigate mass media, even when it's dressed up as "let people enjoy things have fun." So sorry kids, No Fun Allowed.

[the-tomato-patch]

The Hand that Yearns For You

Summary:

"Scourge, his agent, and Wrath had personally seen his death. The Force sang of the finality of that moment in a way that could only be fully understood in hindsight, and it mourned his passing equally. It would take generations for the Force to truly accept and settle once more, and then it would take longer to fill the vacuum." Scourge struggles with the concept of freedom and wonders where he will go now that his three hundred year burden is over.

Pairing:

Jedi Knight x Lord Scourge ( Pre-relationship )

Word Count:

3.3k+

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50967205/chapters/128763724

Chapter 1.

The void left in the wake of the Emperor's true defeat was staggering. Scourge had expected it to feel like when he had killed Darth Xedrix or witnessed the fall of Darth Nyriss. However, this felt far more profound and substantial. The Emperor had been a singular entity of pure terror throughout the entire galaxy—someone who had been a part of the galactic subconscious as far back as he could remember. Not a man. Not a Sith. A near-omnipresent outlier. Scourge, his agent, and Wrath had personally seen his death. The Force sang of the finality of that moment in a way that could only be fully understood in hindsight, and it mourned his passing equally. It would take generations for the Force to truly accept and settle once more, and then it would take longer to fill the vacuum.

For the first half of his life, Scourge had regarded the Emperor as a sort of god, lost in a realm all his own. He had been too busy to heed the monotony of the conniving sycophants at his feet. In the latter years, he had dedicated himself to a relentless pursuit, meticulously scheming and patiently biding his time for the fateful moment when he would lay eyes upon the Jedi from his vision and strike. Now, with the Emperor's existence extinguished, an unmistakable sensation rippled through the Force in the aftermath of his passing.

As much as Scourge had dreamed of and prepared for this day, he had never really thought about what he would do after the Emperor had fallen. His entire life's purpose had been fulfilled. All of his plans and machinations had led up to this point. From a time before, in the darkest corners of his heart, he had even wished for his own life to end after the Emperor fell. He had wanted to feel the balm of immortality slip away like grit and die in battle. He had desired to know the taste of his own blood on his tongue, watch as the fires in the sky danced over the field of corpses left in his wake, and revel in the song of rage and hatred as the dark side filled his senses. Now, he knew that such ideas had been a mistake. No one really understands their value until they come within arm's length and can pluck at the strands of time with their own hands. Even at their weakest and lowest points, they remain constant, a tether that holds them secure to what they once were and might still be. Those dreams of death were washed away by a new one, one that appeared only now that the path was clear: a longing for life.

It left him brooding, wanting something he didn't know. It wasn't often that he found himself brooding about aspects of his past or considering paths he might take in the future. Yet here he was, deep in thought regarding his own self-reflection. He tried to will his consciousness to return to the present, but the thoughts that weighed so heavily on his mind came back to him as soon as the silence engulfed his immediate surroundings.

He'd been like this all day—sitting still, waiting, brooding. Always brooding in the corvette's hull. It took a great deal of his patience not to just throw something across the room or punch a nearby wall. The Emperor was dead, and instead of celebrating, he had become a ruminating mess. How uncharacteristic and pedestrian. If the circumstances had been any different, Scourge might have scoffed at the thought. Instead, he opted to glower angrily at himself, rolling his shoulders to try and shake the stiffness out of them, only to be left with the familiar tingle of a damaged nerve. Staring out toward nothing, his eyes seemed to zone out a bit as he let the thoughts flow unchecked. He could almost feel the sting and burn of the lightning that had nearly cooked him in his own armor—the molten heat of a saber bearing down upon his shoulder, a parting gift from the new Wrath, his replacement, and an unfortunate lesson regarding his new mortality.

Then he felt it—her presence resonating in the Force, announcing her approach long before her footsteps did.

"You haven't moved in three days," Rhiasen spoke with a touch of concern. "You've barely spoken." She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorway. "Normally, you’d toss an insult or two my way. But today… you seem particularly lost."

"There's nothing to discuss," his tone dismissive. "I am thinking. That's all. Spare your worries; my silence isn’t meant to bruise your pride."

"I’m not worried about my pride," she sighed, picking up the cheek she'd been resting against the doorframe. She carefully stepped forward, as if entering the den of a krayt dragon. Despite the barb thrown her way, her tone and gaze carried warmth, as they usually did when she looked at him. "I’m worried about you. You can confide in me, you know. With 'everything' we’ve been through," the word everything punctuated. "I'd like to think you can come to me. Don't pretend to be immune to feeling." She straightened up and came in a few steps further. "You won’t be rid of me just because you’re struggling."

There was a pause between them, where the only sounds to fill the space were the mechanical whine of the engines and the occasional hiss of an environmental filter refreshing the recycled air. It was not fear, nor worry; it was indecision, hesitation, and a lack of direction. The power of choice, it seemed, had crippled his senses rather than liberated them. For once in his life, the choices of others didn't rule his actions or drive his will. There was no external force to guide his life along its set path; it was his to control and steer in the light of his choice. He could feel its effect and how deeply rooted it was. Centuries, if not an eternity, and suddenly he was without an agenda.

Scourge clenched his teeth in frustration. A fleeting surge of rage crossed the dark plains of his mind, and then his head snapped up to her, browstalks furrowing with annoyance, his tone aggressive. "I do not require coddling. I am not your burden. Return to your meditations; I will say no more of it." His hand rose slowly and dismissed the topic, punctuating his need to end this conversation before it started.

Scourge recalled when he'd first experienced true anger after centuries without. He'd felt like an untrained acolyte lost within the halls of the academy, lashing out and failing to contain the vortex of the dark side he had once wielded so easily, as though he had spent far too many decades knowing the structure of the storm but no longer its core. He knew its shape, its nature and gale, but failed to experience the passions behind it. Now he was faced with something akin to a storm of another kind. Yet it was the same dilemma, just expressed in a different, more direct, less tactile fashion, in a form that Scourge was much less familiar with and wasn't able to see and interpret coherently—not when his logic and reason had abandoned him in exchange for unruly behavior unbefitting a Sith of his station and character.

He experienced this rush and more in just a couple of seconds. Focus, his mind pleaded with his body. Find the center, channel this through the Force.

Her expression faltered into a look of concern, and his ire intensified.

"Scourge—"

"Must you press? Let me come to terms with myself; I've come this far," he spat. "Let me confront my own shadows. Don’t pity me like I’m about to shatter."

"Pity?" she said defensively. "I’m not here out of pity, and you should know that by now. I wouldn’t stay at your side all this time out of something so hollow."

His head dipped, and he collected himself. The frustration on his face ebbed away like the last trickling ripples of an otherwise impulsive outburst. He looked back up, a dull glow of heat across his face. "I," he faltered momentarily, a heaviness lingering over him. "I need time."

The words hung in the air before she finally ceded. When he calmed, he could see the war in her eyes as Rhiasen contemplated his rejection with a sad expression. Then, with no indication beyond her tightened jawline, she shook her head, turned, and walked away. She was gone, disappearing through the door, leaving him to his own devices once more.

The exchange hung in his head. Scourge didn't think about anything for a while, instead remaining stationary in the room, allowing his mind a chance to simply process and not act or respond. His mouth felt dry; his nerves felt on fire; and he couldn't pinpoint a source to help alleviate his sudden anxieties. He remained staring forward for quite some time, caught in the same contemplative limbo that had kept him trapped in the same spot for the better part of the day until he was drawn back out as they landed on Odessen.

It was early morning by then as the sun began to peek up over the mountainous terrain the Alliance base was located. The horizon line had a dark, nearly blood-red tint to it, accompanied by the amber orange and the smudges of faint cyan along its crown. It felt strange being outside; he'd been in the corvette for days, so the change was jarring yet refreshing as he and their small crew walked down the ramp. The cool air helped center him, and he took a moment to glance around, catching a glimpse of Rhiasen out of the corner of his eye, moving swiftly through the small crowd forming in the center of the docking bay. Scourge deduced that they were primarily other supply shuttles and a few Alliance personnel returned home in the morning, all hurrying off to their places and tasks. This was an opportunity to busy himself, to fall back into a sense of order and discipline, to pull his mind off whatever thoughts might still be gnawing at it like an akk dog on a bone.

'To business then.'

The events of the day flew by in organized chaos as Scourge stepped into the familiar rhythm he used to settle into following the Alliance's victory over the Emperor. This was where he thrived—doing things he did not need to dwell upon. The tactical and planning elements were far better for his mood. However, it did not last forever, and soon enough, he was no longer in a rush to keep his mind and senses distracted. Scourge didn't appear anxious anymore; his body seemed almost calm. But if anyone had bothered to peer beneath the surface, they would have been able to see him thinking. It was a little different from the state of repose he had taken to just that morning in the corvette when he'd stared idly and brooded. A distraction was no longer an immediate need, and his attention focused.

Yet still, his thoughts lingered. And he fell back to his conversation with Rhiasen on the corvette. It weighed on him—not with a pressing discomfort or despair, the way it had initially when he'd arrived back on base, but more as a consistent nagging, a soft sting rather than a sharp edge. He said "I need time," but for what? More brooding? More idle standing? Was he not a man of action, of decisive measure and words, with conviction and clarity—all directed through the guidance of a plan and a will that he rarely, if ever, faltered from?

The Emperor—Vitiate, whatever his name—was dead, and his immortality was gone. Yet here he stood, wasting his newfound freedoms, though daunting they were. What was keeping him back? Had the wounds left by the Emperor and his reign truly kept his heart in the iron grasp it had been under for centuries? He scoffed, a feeling of disgust coming over him—a denial to admit that he was letting the past dictate his actions. And yet, even still, despite these revelations, he couldn't convince his body to move. In the evening, when he wandered his way to his new favored brooding spot upon one of the adjacent balconies of the Alliance base, only a stone's throw away from his own quarters, he found that he no longer felt an urge to deny the reality. Perhaps that is where he was going, where his actions were pushing him toward.

He couldn't sleep. Not like this. Scourge considered meditation but decided that even the repetition that came with it was more mental strain than he cared for at the present. For several moments, he just stood and stared into the night. He'd forgotten how beautiful the view was when the rest of the planet slept. The brilliant and vibrant greens of the forests in the distance seemed to carry their own radiance and glimmer in the way they absorbed the moonlight. Their foliage glowed as the breeze wafted through, leaves and branches rustling in a low howl. The sky itself was nearly black, dotted with countless pinpoints of light in a sea of blue, green, and white. Above him stretched nebulous ribbons of the galaxy. He imagined reaching out and touching each celestial body that hung overhead; they almost seemed to close together in a vast sphere surrounding him, a crystal orb where the galaxy's secrets lay waiting for his discovery. Scourge took a breath in—the air cool and clean in his lungs, carrying the faint scent of pine. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders and chest going with his breath. And with that, his heart settled.

Discover.

That had been his intention after the Emperor's fall—not to muddle about, waiting in some unknown place while others went on without him. While his feet were no longer as firm and solid as they had once been, there was still no shortage of purpose. In this new state of clarity, he let his mind wander a bit, trying to see what was left on his heart's path and in what direction it pointed. That simple lingering thought of wanderlust gave him pause, and a series of memories seemed to bring with it a guiding pull. The truth of it was simple enough. They may have called it a return, but his only destination was forward, and he'd waited long enough. He would see the galaxy and all that it had to share—the beauty and the tragedy, the vast wonder and the heartbreaking scorn, the depth of its creatures and its horrors. These things could only be known firsthand, and he would have them. To live freely was something he'd never known before—not even when he was free. The chains of Sith politics, the intricacies of their society built upon the backs of slaves, and the formalities of deception. It felt as though the ghost of himself was moving past him, beckoning him to chase, beckoning him toward the future.

The moment didn't last too long. Another bout of trepidation kept his heart rooted in place. As soon as the spark of newfound motivation flared, apprehension appeared to sputter it out and drown out the light—not unlike sinking into a sarlacc pit. He wondered if this would happen again, if this was normal. Surely it would, and he wouldn't be free of it entirely. But maybe it was less to do with the hesitancy he felt in wanting to travel and more in something that still tethered him here. More than just remaining responsibilities.

His thoughts wandered to the crew. Scourge had never thought he'd one day consider a group of fools such as them to be an almost familial force. Maybe not Kimble entirely, but the others... Rusk, Kira, T7, Rhiasen. He mused. A fondness and sense of respect for each of them lingered. How easy it would be to just take his leave and walk away, and yet how hard that path was at the same time.

Rhiasen.

There, just there in his heart, he felt the tug again—a tiny but persistent twinge of resistance. It seemed she was always at his heart. A presence, a pulse, that never really wavered no matter where their journey had taken them. Since their first meeting on Quesh to her silhouette cutting through the Force in his mind's eye for the last three hundred years, she was always just... there. Constant. Sometimes far more insistent than others. It didn't bother him, and he never really speculated on her hold on him all these years outside of their destined alliance in their race against galactic extinction at the hands of the Emperor. The intensity of her will in the Force was stronger than the pull he used to feel before they met. They were inextricably bonded by their connection in the Force. Where she went, his path was bound. But if he should choose to wander, would she follow?

There, a seed of doubt led to another epiphany. The conflict between his needs for the now, versus his desires and longing in the future, tugged on the fabric of his heart. He still had the lingering desire to experience his own freedom and choice, and to continue to let go of his ties with the past. But there, in the back of his mind, it dawned on him that he didn't know what he wanted out of the future, only that he knew what he didn't want. A great deal of that included not wanting to leave behind the close ties he'd made along this alliance of necessity. He wanted to bear the burden of Kira's sharp quips that left him pinching his brow in annoyance. He yearned to engage in another debate about the strengths of Imperial military tactics versus those of the Republic, knowing it would leave the Chagrian simmering with frustration beneath his edged scowl. And he even desired to narrow his eyes in amusement at T7's exaggerated reactions, irritating yet charming as they were. But above all, he wished to stay by Rhiasen's side.

He'd watched her come and go from his life, their separation that occurred only after she'd barreled headfirst into a fleet of unknown ships with Darth Marr. Seven years—seven long, tumultuous years with no knowledge of her fate. Even when the rumors arose, and he could feel her presence through the Force, he knew little, could do little, and remained stalwart in cutting a war path to the Emperor's true body, accompanied by Kira and the ghost of an old ally, Revan. Then came their dramatic reunion, where he'd met the other Wrath and had nearly met his end so soon after reclaiming his mortality. She saved him then, too. Just as she always had in their own unique, unconventional ways. If he ever wanted his freedom, it would need to be by her side. There was no question, no hesitation. All his time was hers, for as long as she'd have him. The future could no longer be seen clearly. No further certainty existed, and it was time he became alright with that. He was free, and there would be a day where he would pursue his life in the stars. But for now, he would stay, and watch that path unfold before him. It was what he wanted, he told himself. He did not seek the promise of the stars without her. And the force of his feelings both startled and baffled him. He wondered then, perhaps, if he wasn't alone in these sentiments.

[sakuracyanide]

headcanon. reincarnated life. cw; death, drug dealing, mentions of human trafficking & general underworld fuckery, domestic abuse.

like nearly everyone else who was reborn, zoisite's life was far from charmed. he was reborn in kyiv, ukraine to a loving family that, unfortunately, died not long after in a car accident. from there, marion was bounced from foster homes, to orphanages, to group homes. never in once place long enough to feel stable or grow roots. due to poor record keeping, marion does not know precisely how old he nor his exact birth date. he does know that somewhere in the mix he was moved from the ukraine to moscow, and it was there he met ivan, a boy a few years older than him. the two became very close. they made far-flung future plans, dreaming of escaping somewhere where snow never falls. it was a childish dream, but one that kept them both going through the worst of times.

he was adopted at the age of fourteen, however his adoptive parents had no idea how to handle a damaged young man who dreamed of a past life. nor could they handle the fact that a lack of stability had left marion with a fierce sense of independence and a refusal to trust any adults. marion was beautiful, intelligent, and could be exceedingly kind - but he was also prone to getting into fights, desperate to prove himself and find a purpose. he just seemed lost, his parents would say, and we're afraid the wrong person found him.

It was no real surprise when he ran away from home. his adoptive parents, though they struggled to connect with him, were devastated. if one wanders through the streets of his old neighborhood they'll still find missing posters bearing his name and a far more innocent photograph.

From there, Marion's crminal record only grew. Despite being marked as an "accomplice" in most crimes, he'd gotten his hands dirty more often than reports would indicate. He quickly took to the lifestyle, learning that trust was not something to be given lightly and learning that affections were only troublesome. Though he was never involved in the making and only rarely in the distribution, he was involved in dead drops - picking up cash or dropping off product in predetermined locations. It had the least mess, the least danger, and being pretty and young worked to his advantage.

Especially with the others. Marion was little more than a pretty face that their new young boss had taken under his wing out of pity or lust. Who could really say? That's why they didn't notice when the payload was a little short, or the cost of the clothes the little pet wore. Ivan would spoil Marion, give him all these little gifts as proof that they would one day go somewhere warm and safe and that this was just a necessity to get there.

Of course, confidence breeds cockiness. He thinks he's untouchable, that nothing can phase him. Comfortable in power that wasn't really his to covet, though anyone who had been on the receiving end on his temper could tell you that Marion was more than capable of handling himself.

He's wrong, of course. And unable to believe his own stupidity when he realized the lavish lifestyle he's shared with Ivan has been funded by a lot more than just weed and contraband. When he confronted the other about this, things took a sharp turn.

Queen Beryl finds him in the aftermath, laying in a gutter with his pretty face all smashed in. his face hurts, but his heart hurts far more. it clenches as he realizes how stupid he was for thinking he was any less disposable than anyone else. in the end, what had he been except a loyal sycophant? a pretty kept pet who could stroke ivan's ego and let him delude himself into thinking he was any different than the lowlifes he associated with.

Ivan had stopped short of killing him and told him that was love. that this was a lesson he needed to learn - and learn he did. when she recruited him to the dark kingdom, his hatred of humanity easily eclipsed that of his fellow kings, as did his need to hold power for himself. the details are forgotten, but he never wants to be indebted to another again.

falling in love with kunzite wasn't part of the plan - he intended to seduce him to suss out his vulnerabilities, then either kill him and claim leadership for himself or puppet him. he isn't expecting a genuine connection or a relationship that isn't transactional. they're equal partners in all things, and that's ultimately how he reconnects with his humanity.

( i slot mamoru still collecting their gemstones here, as he recognizes all of the kings as his guardians who were brainwashed and twisted against their will. )

[limpfisted]

@infiniteanalemma  that post is so long and I didn't want to make it longer even with a readmore LMAO however it is VERY interesting that if u Google magister baldurs gate, ONLY astarion comes up. This, plus the fact that there aren't really supposed to be many cemeteries in the city means that the game took a few creative liberties with astarion lmao. (I have yet to look at the map of baldurs gate from bg1 and 2, I'm still on part one of watching a lets play of it rip)

But in general it also puts into perspective wyll and ulder---ulder became grand Duke only 7 years ago, 3 years after parliament was formed. All dukes positions are supposedly elected and he was elected based off of the general good will and like, ppl thinking he would help the lower city, according to the lorebooks and he failed to meet expectations bc he had to make certain deals with the patriars that made him hypocritical, in the way wyll thinks many politicians are hypocritical

(In general tho I like to think that ulder does TRY to be good. The system is just so broken. I think he and florrick are team lower city tho along with the twelve representatives from the lower city and I go back and forth on whether gortash also was or wasn't, tho it would make more sense if he was as he is also from poverty and not a patriar and it would add texture to both gortash and ulder if he was sometimes on their side, sometimes not.)

Gortash was a councilor who worked up the ranks, while ulder said at least ten years ago that he was a sycophant---as a slave himself with criminal connections (nine fingers has a jounral entry that mentions him even), he would've been able to rise up the ranks the old-fashioned baldurian way with wealth and crime. Plus u know he was sleeping with noble women

In general guild connections and connections between noble families are SUPER important and u never want to lose face. Also important to note that some patriar families aren't that popular or rich and there is a lack of funds for some of them

Which is even more interesting bc the steel watch is made if adamatium and infernal engines, and adamatium golems can take up to 100k gold to make

So right now baldurs gate could potentially have wasted like. Lit3ral millions of the patriars gold on these steel watch and the foundry,which no one knows is made with slave labor except the gondonians

(Which will have devastating effects when it is revealed as the gondonians are a huge part of the baldurs gate infrastructure, there's a whole two famous  establishments in the city, the hall of the wonders and the high house of wonders, where trade workers can learn their crafts and make incredible inventions and sell them and help baldurs gate with it, like its a huge thing, some people come to baldurs gate JUST for that, and gortash decided to make gondonians slaves like yikes)

Two dukes are dead, no grand Duke, 20 patriars dead, we don't know how many of them were members of parliament, we don't know if they were ever ex proxies, we don't know how involved they were with the guild or if they were on "the side of the lower city" we don't know what happened to the ACTUAL watch, but now they can't use the steel watch, and the vanthampur plan to make the flaming fist look weak and bad worked because they're ALL ON GORTASHS SIDE. Now everyone knows the flaming fist are idiots. And there's thousands of flaming fist inside and outside the city.

There's also amn--- they hate baldurs gate and want them to be emerged from the council of lords, which gortash would have been added to, and which wyll would be added to, like his Father. The council of lords are extremely extremely powerful and everyone but especially amn is already like "WHY IS BALDURS GATE REPRESENTED AND NOT US? THEYRE PIRATE BASTARDS" etc, and this would only add more fuel to that fire

Not entirely sure what happens in the sewers bc its optional, but there's still the guild, and rebuilding, and all the crime thatd usually happening, the class tensions, etc

But before gortash reveals his evil hand, i genuinely think people liked him and thought he was saving him too just like he wanted, upper city AND lower city since baldurs mouth even likes him and in general they can be pretty anti-establishment

The flaming fist guy i randomly talked to was even like "I guess ill pour a drink out for him. I guess." When gortash was killed

The most well known politicians are known because they lead during times of great crisis and all that

But gortash severely fucked the patriars over, and especially like. How much coin the city has, and has for rebuilding

Gortash wouldn't have needed it if everything went the way he planned. But wyll/ulder will now that great googly moogly its all gone to shit lmao

(Or u know durgetash for the war crimes aus)

On the plus side, pretty good time to be a criminal. And a lot of folks in baldurs gate are criminals

Next game should be all about nine fingers nine and wyll and avernus tbh. If there is a next game LOL. And im not just saying that bc im. A wyll roleplay blog LMAO

[ofwrxth]

BASICS

Full Name: Mara Callahan 

Age & Birthday: 25, July 16

Hometown: Clearwater, Wyoming

Current Residence: Riverside Cottage 

Occupation: Market Vendor with Uncle Marley, Part Time at Ridgeview University (online), The Rust & Roses Flea Market, & Podcaster of Off the Grid(S) (because Off the Grid was taken so she added an s).

DETAILS

Family Legacy: The Callahans have been in Clearwater for generations, and their paths have always gone one of two ways. They either become lawmen or they become the kind of people lawmen keep an eye on. Some of them have been town legends, others just part of the background, but none of them have ever gone unnoticed. 

Favorite Spot in Town: Her uncle Marley's home on the outskirts of town, the lake

Hidden Talent or Hobby: She’s excellent with technology and has long since been her family’s go-to for faulty wifi, holding all the login usernames and passwords, fixing computers and dealing with the ever faulty printer. 

PERSONALITY

Core Traits: quick-witted, instinctive, pragmatic, blunt, cynical, self-critical 

Strengths: Mara’s quick wit and sharp instincts help her adapt quickly to fast-moving situations. She’s always ready with a clever remark or solution to a problem, making her great at keeping things running smoothly during chaos. Her pragmatic approach means she focuses on what’s achievable, cutting through unnecessary noise and getting things done efficiently.

Weaknesses: Mara’s bluntness, while honest, can alienate others, as she tends to speak without considering the impact of her words. Her cynicism often prevents her from trusting people or situations fully, assuming the worst before things even unfold. Though pragmatic, Mara is highly self-critical, often second-guessing her decisions long after they’ve been made. This self-doubt is something she hides well, but it still lingers.

What Keeps Them Up at Night, If Anything?: Mara has found it best not to worry about things she can’t change. However, sometimes she feels like she is the thing that can’t change. 

How Do They Handle Conflict?: Mara finds people predictable and sometimes will indulge her inner gremlin, riling them up because she can. But for the most part, she isn’t really someone who gets into fights, though she does speak up when something seems asinine to her, and that can lead to arguments. But she finds most arguments illogical and tends to let them die out, refusing to add kindling if she deems it a waste of time.

HISTORY

Backstory: 

Mara was the second child of Arthur and Cecilia Callahan. Like her mother, she always had her nose in a book, and, like her father, she was good at reading people from a young age. It was probably why she didn’t have many friends growing up. No one wanted to hang out with the kid who was reading Einstein: His Life and Universe during fifth grade recess, taking notes and highlighting words she didn’t know to look them up later. Or the girl called Abby Buchanan’s minions sycophants when they bullied little Andrew White for still playing with action figures in sixth grade and who, the very next day, turned up with a spider man action figure herself. 

But Mara didn’t really feel like she needed a ton of friends either. She had her parents, her sister and her uncle. She’d rather do what she enjoyed than try to conform to what everyone else wanted around her. In that, she would be proud to say she was like her parents. 

The older Mara got, the more it became clear that despite her seeming indifference (and RBF), she cared deeply about her interests and the few people close to her. She might have seemed uninterested in class but she was always a good student. She may not have had many friends but Mara was always a good friend. 

What made her certain of this was the fact that her uncle Marley was her best friend and she knew for a fact he hated most people (sometimes it seemed like “most” included her dad too). She would spend her weekends at his place reading books from his collection and talking to him about school as she helped him around his property. To Mara, he was the coolest, and the two were often referred to by their family as MarMar when speaking about them together. 

When it came time to think about her future, Mara wasn’t certain what she wanted. She’d been working at the Flea Market during the summers and was brought on full time after graduation. The idea of asking her parents to fund college after their divorce felt wrong. They had a lot going on and she didn’t even know what she wanted to do (or if it wasn’t just playing the game how they wanted). Their divorce made her sad, mostly because that intuitive, people-reading part of Mara could see they still cared about each other. And, if they were honest about their feelings, they’d realize they still acted like they were married in a lot of ways. 

So she settled for combing through people’s junk to see what was worth selling and sometimes she’d find something worthwhile to pick up for her family or for her and her dad or uncle to fix up. A few years ago she got into podcasts and decided that it would be a fun way to educate the public on the conspiracies around them. She managed to convince Marley to be a guest many times (see: most episodes), but she’s managed to find a small base in town who contribute to the bi-weekly episodes. One day, while uploading an episode, Mara saw a stupid paid ad for Ridgeview University. She wasn’t sure what grabbed her attention but she went down the rabbit hole and found a program that seemed interesting. She’d been saving money for years and decided to take a chance, despite what people might think.

Current Situation: 

Mara lives with her mom still, though sometimes she crashes at her dads when they have one of their weekly tv-watching nights (they pick on a show to watch together and when her dad has time, they’ll get through it slowly but surely). She still works at the Flea Market but has been enrolled in a computer science program at Ridgeview University for nearly a year. She takes classes remotely which is convenient so she doesn’t have to borrow a car, but sometimes she’ll have to go in for a big exam. When she does, her mom often will take her into the city and they’ll get lunch afterwards. Sometimes she thinks her mom is more nervous about her taking a test than she is. Her podcast is still doing well, and while she’s busy, she still enjoys thinking of new conspiracies to talk about with Marley and others. 

Her life might seem small to some people but to Mara, it’s full of everything she could need. 

How Do They Feel About the Changes in Clearwater?: 

She doesn’t feel too strongly either way but does wonder what people who aren’t from Clearwater see in their town. So in that, she’s a bit skeptical about motive but, at the end of the day, it’s not really her problem. As long as they don’t build condos or a hotel near the lake, she’s fine. 

CONNECTIONS AND RELATIONSHIPS

Reputation in Clearwater: 

Mara is seen as the less friendly Callahan girl but that’s just because people don’t bother talking to her as much as her sister. Probably because of her RBF. She’s also known as the Callahan with a book in hand or the podcast girl. Lastly, she is also known as the tech support girl. What started as her mom giving her number to a coworker for help with a computer turned into that coworker giving her number to someone else and then to someone else etc etc.

Important Relationships: 

Mom, Dad, Sister, Uncle + weirdo friends pls (wc)

Potential Story Hooks: 

Conspiracy: Maybe there's a conspiracy theory from town that is proven true? We can work out what it is!

Tech support: Mara could be helping your muse and sees something on a digital device she shouldn’t have

ANYTHING GOES

[laxmankodadala]

How to deal with Communication Breakdown?

Do you know that some businesses are unaware of or refuse to acknowledge that they have communication issues that lead to unfavourable outcomes like accusations between teams, delayed deliveries, low staff morale due to subpar work, an unpleasant rise in customer complaints, and so forth?

The major problem is the companies that are not aware of the breakdown in communication. They erroneously believe that they are managing their company with inept employees, which hides the fact that effective communication can help them find competent employees.

I want to remind you of Nicholas Ling's famous phrase, "Ignorance is a voluntary disaster," in case you or your company decide not to avoid communication breakdown revealing your blatant ignorance.

If you want to avoid such breakdowns and boost your workplace communication. Please read the preceding content.

What is Workplace Communication?

The act or process of two or more people discussing or exchanging ideas, feelings, information, and experiences is generally referred to as communication. When you have the flexibility to share your experiences and desires, relationships and interpersonal attachments are developed. Having the ability to think, know, and express emotions is a basic necessity for living.

Although the term "workplace communication" may seem self-evident, it encompasses both verbal and nonverbal communication between groups or employees inside an organisation, as well as file exchanges through workplace collaboration tools, emails, notes, chat, audio and video calls, and other channels.

What is digital communication?

Digital tools such as file sharing, video and audio conversations, chat, conferences like business meetings, and more allow employees to share information in the workplace.

As the digital age progressed, so did digital communication. All modern businesses, company types, and companies rely on startup tools like instant messaging apps for smooth communication. It is difficult to envision a business operating without these communication tools; if it did, it would be

viewed as outdated. Due to their established team chat tools and communication systems, a few businesses were able to remain open throughout the pandemic.

What is Breakdown in Communication?

Communication breakdown can be generalized as poor communication, specifically, the failure to exchange information. If it occurs, the whole operations in the company will undoubtedly go haywire since every employee works on assumptions or misinterpretations going in their direction.

What are the causes of breakdowns in communication?

Breakdown in communication extends to misunderstandings or incorrect assumptions, time consumption on trivial tasks, delayed deliveries, indecisive decision-making, low productivity, and others.

As was previously established, breakdowns aren't always the result of underwhelming teamwork. There are other causes, including:

The cold war between the teammates.

The rivalry between teams.

Disagreement between teams and management.

Toxic work culture.

Team members work as individuals instead of contributing as a team.

Encouraging incompetent members and sycophants and preventing the development of competent ones in the guise of favoritism.

No feedback system, and others.

How to Address Communication Breakdowns A communication breakdown isn’t just a minor disruption; it can become a major issue if communication standards are not established or followed. Proactively addressing these challenges is essential for maintaining harmony and productivity in the workplace.

Fostering Employee Relationships The duties of an organisation extend beyond client management, service provision, and staff compensation. Building strong bonds amongst team members is just as crucial to establishing a productive workplace. Without this focus, people could put their own objectives ahead of group ones, which could cause conflict and less teamwork.

Overcoming Language Barriers Every employee has a different communication style, and not all of them may speak English, the dominant language of the business. You can assist staff members in developing their communication skills by exercising patience and letting them grow from their errors. In the end, this method improves team communication by fostering loyalty, raising morale, and removing linguistic obstacles.

Establish Clear Communication Guidelines It's critical to take the time to recognise and resolve communication issues. To identify obstacles, survey team members and supervisors or have conversations with them. Create unambiguous communication norms that are both realistic and enforceable, and that everyone agrees to abide by. This will avoid future problems and result in more fruitful and successful conversations.

Utilize Effective Communication Tools Using poor tools can cause communication failures even with a great team. Purchasing dependable equipment that facilitate smooth multitasking and remove delays is essential. Troop Messenger is one example of a platform that may greatly improve communication effectiveness and support seamless team interactions.

Conclusion

In the event of a communication breakdown, taking immediate action is the best course of action. Even yet, team members could ignore the communication rules you set up for your company. Therefore, continue evaluating them every week or every month to find all the causes of the communication breakdown. However, remember that in an organisation where trust exists, communication will be more successful.

[newagesurvivalist]

Chancelleries of scholarship

Authorities instill in us a distinct sense of admiration, perhaps, for the parade of life in which we each have a clever function: this is the nature of one's occupation - that he can move continuously to parade around in some general sense and realize his objectives, but still fashion a destiny out of the endless ruins of the past civilizations. We all have certain values of propriety, but what we see most of all is that the proper men and women of history build their legacy out of the truly spiritual struggle with the End, which is ever coming on; so, in this wise, we are capable only of ordinary actions towards the purpose of life, and we cannot see release from the traditional attitude in which wise men have educated us, or something - and so, we continue to ply our trade or reveal some deeper truth about life in gestures of mastery; things that are strong, but not essential. The fact is that we do have some kind of calling in the general profession of life; or rather, we aim towards some better kind of development, consisting of concerted projects, constantly instigated to defeat the mad elements that rail against the august order (which is not an order but merely a kind of anthem, or monument). We can move strenuously to mad locations in our minds - mad topics - and yet not get to that point where we can loiter forever to get the true spiritual creation ready; a fact proving we are still barbarians... or sycophants. Nevertheless, I will say that we can sing and dance until the breaking of the world.

We do many things, but there is a lot of strangeness in visceral temporizations. Good simplicity can actually aid us in liberty, but we may lose the assertivity of real damage. Actually, I spend so much time doing what is actually the case, that something may result out of detail-based reflection, but our kindness is only the restriction of disproportionate activity. The restriction will aid us: but the hallucination of freedom must not be underestimated, since all things are unknown.

Art and work are closely related. We see that a man can only have a distinct profession if he makes his work count on every corner. However, his wishes to make the world a better place lack some kind of meaningful entertainment, and we don't succeed in life. We must make the most of life. The thing is that there is so much under the sun that we do not yet get. A good man can power through the limits of the ordinary world and create paper conclusions that force through the juridical attenuations that will one day make the future of mankind manifest. The constant pressure of the possibility for freedom is a thing; truly, here we see the promise of capacity which is situated in our race, because we are just the oldest sect in the world. And there may be contrasted refutations in the harbour of our deepest desire. The strange thing in our deep cave under the surface of the Earth is that there is truly a moment where we can admire the contours of the better Earth where the wanderers of the old world still linger and we make sense of the compassionate clamour; here, our horror hides and we still must elucidate the qualities of the best empire that thought could bring forth in the consideration of the life of us; the thing determining our wretchedness in opposition to the fortunate rebuttal of the clang and pounding of war, but there will one day be peace of mind. Confucius must certainly wait for us in some area of the eternal world. The truely gentlemanly acquiescence. Besides this, I have no real faith, beyond the things that we expect, because there is always a great deal to expect for the life of us. So, in a nutshell, terrific events are waiting everywhere in this world around the buildings we built, and the street ever extends into the great beyond. The great structures of liberty and the liberal arts have given us only sorrow, as Ecclesiastes said: the more knowledge, the more grief. But in reality, there is a liberation from the ignorance. Truly, we shall achieve serenity in the gardens of Babylon or the colosseum. There will be some kind of expert attitude that we can adopt: truly, we can learn this from history, for the great kings of time watch over the common people forever. The true condescension of combat-situations does result in compassion, and so we can expect great things from politics in the future, but the question is, who will be deemed worthy? Will there be literal heroes? We have seen that the greatest men galvanized endless masses of wretches who are now considered the most dignified people in history. What will the future hold? Some kind of anarchism? I do think that we shall see a certain sacrality coming to surround the discipline of philosophy, because in fact we do see that people seem to be entirely unscrupulous people, but the slow march of ideas and scholarship continues. The cosmopoeia of liberal proportions, where liberty lies, is the governing pension of the truly proper life.

It seems during our lives we can make a vast variety of choices. Every day is a cornucopia of possibilities. However, in the course of our lives we rarely really have control. Most of our time is spend searching for food, or putting our house in order. In this way, we are confronted by a terrible state of affairs. We have to face the day. We make choices all the time. Once we have made the choice, is there any way that remains for us to carry out our task? It just happens on auto-pilot. Sartre said: we are our decisions. Some decisions we make in the here and now; others we have made long ago. Am I on auto-pilot now? Yes, partially: I have decided to do something; I have decided on a methodology: there's nothing more to be done. I can, if the moment allows for it, focus on future events; or I can just wait for that moment to arise. This is the process of decision-making that we have to understand. Without this understanding, there is no equanimity. I can make decisions beforehand; I still have to decide in the moment itself. When we philosophize, there might be a predicament where we dwell on a thought. Then we should simply stick to the plan. There is no philosophy outside of communication; and communication is life. When we articulate a simple position, our compassion may overflow in some final song, but the chancellery of compassion is a true sign-post of the endless labour of the state - verily, of a kind of overzealotry, that shall be fatal to the subject in the last analysis. I can set forth a disposition in the doctrine of political fervour, but ultimately the best men do only what is humble and kind.

I see the ordinary things happening all the time. I really think the future is coming on, but a reflection might flow out of our focus, and so we sit quietly: truly, remission is still a predicament of liveliness, and our finitude will be overtaken by our justice.