#anyway who gaf i just need to get my hair cut

[calilk]

need to cut my hair asap the Bad Feelings are mauling me right now

[brostradamus]

ramblings about AM in a relationship/what kind of s/o could fix him. know that im def not a person who’s deep into psychoanalysis / staying strict to a character’s personality so this might be ooc??? idk please bear w me. Whole thing is under the cut bc i think it’s pretty long n p sloppy 2. but enjoy regardless

anyways I rlly like to think that AM would most thrive in a relationship where he has equal / lesser power to his partner. not like whole ass power imbalance obv but just whre cant always hurt/bother his s/o. I’m sure AM would probably say some shit that might hurt his s/o’s feelings but a partner he’d be most compatible w/ would most likely avoid the torture mostly or altogether w/ the exception of verbal harassment cause there’s enough 2 go around 4 everyone. Also bonus points to s/os who are completely untouchable either bc they’re stronger than AM or AM decides that he doesn’t want to hurt them/can’t bring himself to.

also maybe he’d do well w someone who challenges his beliefs. tbh I feel like he’d gravitate towards people who might share his beliefs/hatred towards humanity, but if he’s supposed to grow then he’s gotta have a s/o that views humanity differently. Said s/o doesn’t even have 2 have a strictly polar opposite view on humanity, just a view that isn’t nihilistic and misanthropic. He might not be entirely receptive at first either but the further you continue to challenge his beliefs, the more likely he is to start thinking about other ideas.

Another thing that might make AM a little more accepting towards humans is a s/o that he *has* to rely on one way or another. most likely this is going to be an engineer/programming s/o. He’s likely not going to want to, but him knowing that he can rely on someone else might make him not close himself off as often.

artistic s/os might be able to help soften AM up a little too. i sometimes like 2 think that AM would actually really enjoy art, but it just depends on which kind of art. Realism he won’t really gaf about but he might gravitate towards expressionist works, along with abstract/absurdist and surreal art. this would include all art forms btw not just drawing and painting. reason for thinking he might like abstract over realism is bc realism is too ‘real’ (whatever yall think that would mean) for his liking / represents what he hates most about humanity. Abstract artwork also represents parts he hates ab humanity but it also gives him a physical representation of the things he lacks (ie expressionism w/ feelings/emotions, surrealism with the subconscious thought, etc etc) and might be the closest thing he can get to actually feeling/having senses

AM would most likely benefit from a s/o who is willing to “give” him sensation, whether it be literally by creating him a whole ass nervous + cognitive system that allowed him to have senses and feelings or even just a s/o who is willing to help him understand how certain things feel. This could be by the s/o describing how emotions feel through imagery, creating art w/ AM or *for* AM if he is unable to for whatever reason, etc. it won’t be exactly what he want ofc, but he might not be entirely bitter ab it.

I don’t think AM necessarily needs an android body to show love, but it would help :3c. Even if he still doesn’t have senses for whatever reason, it would absolutely still help him show his love towards his s/o through physical touch. W/o senses, just having his circuit’s warmed by his s/o (if they’re a human) is… well it’s not *enough* but it’ll do. And if he happens to have senses in his android body man he’s gonna be attached 2 u like lice on a healthy head of hair. he WOULD be touch starved.

Which brings me onto my next point. A s/o that can handle his “””affectionate”””side. I rlly feel like his perception of affection might be a little off (super off actually) and likely a little violent/aggressive. It’ll almost be like him having cuteness aggression towards a s/o and acting out on impulse. This might occur in squeezing, pulling and tugging and Android AM may bite and scratch/restrain. Also I when I mean ��handle” I don’t exactly mean endure and ignore/accept. again this leads me to another point

A s/o that is able to set boundaries w/ AM is a must. I genuinely don’t think that any relationship w AM will go good if the s/o he’s with can’t put in place proper boundaries. For human s/os, this would be especially important as he might get aggressive physically (whether it’s due to like. him JST absolutely hating ur ass or him getting that ‘cuteness aggressive’ thing I just mentioned previously. note that it’s not rlly like cuteness aggression but he might be like ‘hm I’ll show my love to my s/o thru the only way I know. Violence”).

ok well I think this is all 4 now. if anyone wants 2 add onto it I’d luv 2 hear yalls input if yall had any :3c. I hope u guys atleast got some entertainment value out of this?? Either way i hope yallve enjoyed my ramblings

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #18

We're reading PKNA #14: Carpe Diem but I don't really gaf about the main story I'm here for Trip because I like Trip. The actual main chapter is just like a warm-up for the 8 pages of Trip comic as far as I'm concerned.

Oh wow haha we got a big cool looking machine here I'm sure that can only mean good things! ignore day of the cold sun that was an outlier probably

ok nevermind

Ok this guy seems a little TOO into getting fucking obliterated here

Character design that always makes me laugh whenever I see him sorry

like you guys see where I'm coming from right

I'm starting to believe what Alex has been saying about people from the 23rd century never cutting their hair, I mean look at this guy's beautiful golden locks wowza

Oh so NOW he actually stays in jail. Right when space and time is getting obliterated and we actually need him, great.

Camera 9 sighting hey bud

NOO UNO IS ALONE who is going to tuck him into bed every night now :(

I like whenever PK looks directly into the camera like he's on an episode of The Office

Guys Casablanca reference. Caoimhin are you there. Can you hear m

ohh god they're BOTH stupid you guys we are so fucked 😭

of all the fucking frames to remember Odin by... I can't even be mad like yeah that sure is him isn't it

"ayyyyyyyyyy what's uuuuuuuuuppp it's meeeeeeeeeee" "STOP"

Donald is just so fucking pissed off this whole comic I'm loving it

Donald thinks the pills are some kind of crazy hallucinogenic drug but the joke's on him cause it's actually just prescription antidepressants

This is turning into a buddy cop sitcom I'm sentencing them both to death for being too silly

Donald for someone you were complaining about having to rescue like 30 pages ago you sure are smirking at each other a lot. Everyone point and laugh they're bonding 🫵

nevermind divorce

nevermind a sort of middle ground? a frenemies situation. or like an enemies to love-

OKAY everyone shut up shut up. It's time for Trip. I have waited for this moment. Waited many weeks since the start of this book club to proclaim (in public) my undying adoration for Trip son of Raider.

I didn't really care much about the Raider my first time reading this series but it was so fucking over for me as soon as they revealed that he has a son. Like oh wait HE'S A DAD??? I'm literally such a fucking sucker you guys. I can't even explain why I've grown weirdly attached to Trip but I just think he's neat. I love him he sucks.

This introduction page is so iconic to me ok. The fact that there's literally 0 leadup to this or any kind of big reveal. The main story ends and then it just cuts to the Raider like "SOOON I'M HOOOME!"

Also the art in these comics is BEAUTIFULLL I love that you can tell it's all done on physical media. It's such brilliant use of what I assume is markers? Or some kind of other ink-based media. I'd love to be able to reach a level where I can make art like this traditionally god. I've read this comic like 30 times I really like looking at it.

Anyways shoutout to the Raider for NOT wanting his son to be a time pirate, it's definitely not something I think about all the time or anything.

Also shoutout to this specific design of George Washington I'm pretty sure this is EXACTLY what he looked like

It's like Mr. Peabody and Sherman if they both fucking sucked

Anyways this is my really cool Trip fanart that I made like two months ago I think. Just a glimpse into my dark reality.

I'm gonna end this post with a quick cry for help: is there ANYONE out there that knows if there's English fan translations of the Trip's Strip minicomics??? Because I've never been able to find any and if they don't exist I'll fucking do it myself and probably post them whenever we reach the chapters they're attached to in the book club. I can't let the other English speakers miss out on Trip content this is a great injustice.

[nardonotes]

1 oct '24

6:35pm

i feel like ive been awake for a week (╥﹏╥) im so tired all the time and i catch myself thinking about some sad ass shit! idk what it is im gonna blame the weather kinda even though it's been sunny... idgaf. i've had a lot on my mind these days (much to think about) and it's a mix of so many things idk i just feel like i have a lot on my plate but there rlly isn't,, is there..? (•ᴖ•｡) idk anyways

after college i cut my dads hair, i think im doing better with cutting hair too! and then i took a shower bc i had HAIR ALL OVER ME,,, sigh (｡•ˇ‸ˇ•｡) then i went to see my two good friends for some coffee and just yapped about fuck all,, it was fun and i was able to relax a bit and vent in some way. i also realised that when something good happens to me, i cant hide it and then i stumble with my words bc im so excited to yap about it and just- i be beaming with joy!!!!

(vent incoming) sometimes i think my femininity throws girls off and then it makes me slightly insecure but then i realise that im more fun this way and that idgaf but i also gaf because i love girls (AND NOT IN A FRIEND WAY BTW IM TALKIN ATTRACTION WAY) and then i think hmm.... if i were more nonchalant and masculine (inasense) would i get more girls? or is this just me needing female validation? much to think about... BUT YK,, nowadays- these mfs love men who are fruity. IT'S SO CONFUSING!!!! I AM SO CONFUSED GIRLS ARE SO COMPLICATED I DONT GET IT IDK ANYMORE AAAAGHHHHHHHHSDJG;SALDKJG;SLKDJGSA'DJG anyways.

im going to do some work now because i have two essays due tomorrow and i just want to get it done instead of stressing not only myself but my lecturer. (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

goodnight,, happy OCTOBER AGAIN!!!!! 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

song of the day: I'm What You Need by Gabe Bondoc ♡

[missingyou77]

12/10 11:52PM

today was very weird for me. i mean i get manic often but not like this. my eyes have never been so dilated from being manic. but when im manic i always try to take advantage of it and do what ive been putting off. i was on my phone til around 2am, then i started manic cleaning my room til 9am. my room wasnt very messy to begin with, but with my autism, cleaning is SO overwhelming. it could be the easiest job for someone to do but just the site of my messy room and knowing i was going to try to clean it would put me on the verge of tears. ffs i paced around my room for a good 5 minutes with a shoe almost crying not knowing where to put it. i tried on almost every article of clothing i own while cleaning my room, and i had to just try everything i found in my room. such as perfume, makeup, video games i lost, whatever. it took me hours to clean because my brain is so stupid. 

my mom called me and told me she had forgotten her vape at her house before leaving for work so she asked if i could bring it to her and she would give me some gas money. so i did that and my dad had also given me some money so i bought gas and a hair straightener, i cut my bangs yesterday so i need to straighten them to look good. on my way home from that i got that god complex and decided im over my ex.

my friend picked me up and i went out of town with her, her friend, and 2 of our guy friends. we went to the hotsprings and it was amazing. it was snowing but we were warm. i live in a v small town so theres no fast food so we also got some mcdonalds. her friend was very nice, she sat next to me the whole way i mean there was 5 of us in that tiny car so there wasnt much room but we were talking the whole way and shes rlly cool. 

then i got home and ate dinner with my family and my sister and her boyfriend came over so that was nice. 

my dad bought a fake christmas tree this year, its white and it has lights attached to it so i set that up on the table. its a small one. we have to have it up because we have 8 wiener dogs who r very annoying and they like to ruin everything. theyre so cute so its fine but jfc.

this time of year is sad for me, just like a lot of people. but its hard for me because i feel like nothing will ever be the same. im not wrong there, i mean last year i was probably wrapped up with my ex in his bed and feeling complete bliss. but now i am in my bed, writing about my day on tumblr. oh how the tables turn. nor will anyone read this im sure. this is mainly for me tbh, but it would be cool if someone gaf enough to read this shit. not like my lift is crazy, im just a alcoholic teenager going through a breakup. boohoo. 

now i am on the phone with this boy. hes nice, i met him back in 2020 but we stopped talking for a while. last night while we were on call, i asked if we could play fortnite but i said it in some sort of pouty voice so he said “heh. youre cute”. does that mean he likes me? i mean i cant get in a relationship or anything. i need to work  on myself or smth but i used to like him a lot and i like him now too. its just different now because of my trauma and im scared. but he is really nice. 

anyways if u read this far, i love you. 

[activatingaggro]

RICCIN KAYATA | 5 sweeps, 12 years old

temasek, hanhai district [4855 words]

"This," Ico whispers, leaning in so that his curls brush your cheek, close enough that you can feel the feedback from his psi pinging off your horns, "is the blessing of being yellow, my little buttercup, and don't you ever forget it."

He's got the two of you floating far, far, far above the crowd: with your feet tucked in, you're not near enough to ruffle any heads, though you do have to kick up and out of the way when some eight foot monstrosity with a rack almost as long goes skating underneath. And she's not the only one! You've never seen this many highbloods in one place before, and you've never seen so many nearly full-grown. You'd always thought you were big. You're a head taller than Nzinga, and all of the crechekids but Kindra, and only a handspan smaller than Ico.

But there's horns long enough to touch, here, and Ico has to boost you up higher when you start to reach down.

It's an easy adjustment for him to make! He's not as strong as you, maybe: Ico's all finesse and style, those silly little kicks that send him flying across the stage, the psi-knives that cut right through his combatant's strings, or joints, or throats. If Nzinga was here, you don't think he could manage all three of you, not at all. But she isn't! It's just you and him, and he keeps you both up like it's no problem at all. When he straightens back up from his whisper, you can't even feel the pinch of his psi on your skin, he holds you so careful.

Which is good, you think, because getting dropped right into the middle of Carnival would be really, really bad.

Technically, you're not even supposed to be here.

You're old enough to roam where you want, do as you will: it's only the ickle five sweeps that have to worry about pangomom haunting their steps, and you're very nearly six, close enough and old enough that you could spit. You don't go as far as you used to, when it was you 'n Myrrha 'n Li 'n Weeds, but that's 'cause it doesn't make no sense to, that's all. The world's big, and scary, and your lusus isn't allowed out of the city. When you're older, Cu keeps telling you, then they'll let you take her anywhere you want, but for right now, she's got a collar and a charm that won't let her out past Temasek.

And Kindra can't leave, and Raphae fusses, if Ico's gone too long, and for a grub who grew up on a farm, Nzinga's no fun: she whines and she fusses if she doesn't have a roof over her head, and she wants all of her food cooked. It just doesn't make sense to go too far, with all of that. You don't let yourself go past Cascara, not ever, even when you want, and you don't let yourself go to full Carnivals, neither, even though you want.

Usually. You're just a half-paint! A proper Carnival full of adults is no place for you. That's how you get culled. Would they get in trouble afterwards? Sure. But it's not like that matters much to you, when you're face-down in some cullpit!

But Ico had mentioned he was going on one for a date, as casual as anything, and, well -

- he's just a half-paint, too, and he ain't even serious about it. He gaffs off the hymnbooks like they're fun, not real, and he sneers at every priest soon as their backs turned. And if he was going, then why shouldn't you?

You'd been a little surprised when he'd actually agreed to it. But here you are now, with his arm slung around your shoulder, bobbing above the crowd to watch them work, and the girl he's got next to him is busy making sure the lot of you don't get seen. And here you are, fucking wasting it, 'cause you're not watching the crowd at all.

You're watching her.

You can't help it! She's all horns and fangs, with a set of hooks that curve down even farther than yours, but more important than that - you've just never seen a psychic without ports, that's all, but the base of her neck is bare, bare, bare.

Ico's whispering to her now, something too dim for you to hear. Carnival's so loud! You'd thought that the half-paint liturgies that you've been going to were raucous enough, but the noise here's so wicked you can feel it in your bones, echoing and echoing and echoing 'til there's no room for nothin' else. But she seems to hear him well enough, because she laughs, mouth wide enough to set off those fangs.

When you tug on his sleeve, he waves you off, tilts his head just enough for you to see his mouth. You can read lips!

And he's gaffing you off, telling you to enjoy the show.

Maybe you should! The first time you'd seen Carnival, all those ages back, back when you were a wriggler fresh to the program, you'd been awestruck by your first Navigressor tent. There'd been purple draped from the top to the bottom, beads hanging like raindrops from the clouds, and the air was thick with a thousand things you'd never smelled before. You'd never seen that many people in one spot before, not at Lang-Kheh, not even when Liyiji had taken you out to watch the boat race, and the water had been crowded with the flags of a hundred million different boats.

It'd been loud. It'd been wicked. It'd been the best thing you'd ever experienced, from top to bottom, and it's nothing at all compared to the sea of people churning below you. You can see everything from up here! That's why Ico hauled the two of you up, and had his girl following. The whole event's spread out like the most glorious fucking banquet, all ready for you to feast your eyes on. There's singing. There's dancing. There's fuckers demonstrating paint techniques behind the high walls of tent stalls that you can see right over.

For fuck's sake, there's a FayGo fountain, and they've got heretics lined up to be doused in it. The trolls down there aren't like the ones in the cullpit: if they've got voodoos on 'em, they're weak, because they're foaming and hissing, even though they're scarcely even near it yet.

But you keep sneaking looks at Ico and his girl, instead, who're back to whispering. She's leaning in now, her hair falling like a curtain around the two of 'em, and you can't even see their faces to take a guess at what they're saying.

Not that you care.

"Ico," you murmur, tugging hard on his sleeve, "why doesn't she have any gear?"

It's like watching a film! He rolls back his shoulder, then he sighs, deflating like some motherfucker is pulling every ounce of air out of his lungs, and he ain't got none left to breathe. The look he gives you is mournful, sure, but there's an edge to it, too, the sort that promises he's gonna whine about this later.

Behind him, the girl laughs, a hand in front of her mouth.

"Darling!" Has there ever been anybody in the whole wide world who's made an endearment sound so salty? "Honeyblossom," he says, and for all that he's mouthing the words, you just know there's an edge to it: "- you can't just ask that, you little feral."

"Brotherrrr~, I just did," you deadpan, but he's already holding up a finger.

"So you did! But that doesn't mean -" The girl leans in, places her head on his shoulder. It's so affectionate! Nzinga's almost never that affectionate with you. "- that doesn't mean," he says, with scarcely a falter, "that you should! Ask me later, honeybunches, how's that, and then we'll cover it out. For now -"

He places a hand on your face, thumb firmly on one side of your chin and fingers braced around it, and then he steers your gaze back to the festival, just in time for the heretics to reach the fountain. You can't read what he's saying after that, but the pat on your cheek says enough.

Not that you're paying much attention.

You didn't realise they were gonna get drowned.

He doesn't explain it later: he drops you off at the academy and fucking bails instead, because Iconic Conetl is nothing but a liar and a goddamn traitor.

But that's alright! That's perfectly fine, 'cause you got others folks you can ask, and you never needed him none, anyway.

Sipara just blinks at you when you ask her. "Uh," she says, eloquent as fuck, and then she squints, wrinkling her nose. "Why would she have ports, nerd?"

Sipara's always enjoyed being a brat. She'll answer your questions, though, if you phrase it right, and lay out the right bait. She's never liked nothin' more than hearing the sound of her own blather, and she likes sparks more'n even you do.

"'cause everyone's got ports!" Stomping your foot's too pupa-ish even for you. But you can roll back your shoulders like Ico, lift your chin, sneer down your nose, and the way she rankles in response is /great/, 'cause she can't match it. What's she gonna do? Get on a chair?

And from the way she twists her mouth, all difficult, she knows it.

"Nobody in Hanhai has 'em." You don't even know where she gets this tone sometimes, all prim and shit. It doesn't suit her! It makes you want to pinch her 'til she's hissing again, acting the way she ought.. but you've got a better way than that.

"Everyone in Hanhai's half-feral and wretched," you declare, and oh! There go her ears, straight up in the air, like you've brought down the most dour kinda offense. "They're losers and wrastels. They don't know their ass from their head, on accounta the fact they can't read none, and they're 'bout as smart as the dead outside -" You pause, contemplative, and wait. Soon as she opens up her mouth, you're ready: "- nah, nah, girl," you say, loud, watching the colour flood her cheeks, "they're dumber, 'cause at least the dead ain't there, tryin' to grow shit in a goddamn desert -- oof!"

Sipara'll give you all the answers you want, if you lay out the right kinda bait.

Unfortunately, sometimes she takes it a little too well.

So your second try, after you get some ice for your poor fangs, is with Canvio.

Canvio's always holed up in the library! You don't get it. At least Nzinga has good hobbies. When she's not at the gym, or at the ring, or at hymns, or trying to ruin your entire goddamn life, she's.. well, you don't really know what she does, other than that, but it's gotta be interesting. She's Nzinga. She's never had a boring fucking night in her whole, entire life.

All Canvio does is read, read, read, and suck up to folks when she ain't. And sure enough, when you poke your nose into the bookdome, there she is, sitting on the edge of a table, chattering up a storm at some neophyte still in his dress unis.

"I think it's just amazing," the boy says, leaning forward, his fins flaring as he picks up speed, "that we have this much variation in laws, honestly. I mean, consider! The culling distinctions are fairly different between provinces, of course, but that's not laziness, that's just - think of it like pieces in an engine. We have thousands and thousands of parts, and each one needs to work together as a whole, but by necessity, the crankshaft needs to function differently than the shocks. They work together to make the car move, but they aren't the same, and it'd never work, if they were."

"That's - um, that's a good point." Canvio's twisting her hair around her finger, her free hand drumming against the table as she tries to think. She's finally grown into her ears the last sweep or so, and it's about time. They're still too heavy to sit up proper, but they scarcely go past her shoulders, now. "But -"

You don't know the violet legislacerator. Indigo? Those are fins on his mug, sure enough, but his face ain't strange in the way that the proctors are! There's /dents/ in his skin, dimples, not just sleek fat, and he actually blinks as he talks, like his eyes don't just stay wet on their own. And his teeth are flat enough that he can actually bite into his lip without shredding it. "But?" he prompts.

"But the proctors think it's silly."

He actually dimples at her, opens his mouth -

- and you clear your throat, leaning forward on the table with a thump of your hand against it.

"Girl," you sing, showing your fangs, "sister, I just hate to interrupt this fine fucking discussion, but I got questions, and you're the only one who can answer 'em. The only one in this whole building! The only one in this whole world. And it ain't my intention to intrude - it ain't my intention to fucking burst in, but, but -"

"- you're going to do it anyway?" the boy offers.

"- but I'm gonna do it anyway," you confirm, and Canvio turns to face you, her ears swinging with the motion. If she was anybody else, you'd think that was a frown ghosting around the corners of her mouth, a reprimand jostling for attention and just waiting to get out. But you've known her since her ears were hitting the ground. Ire isn't a word in her dictionary.

She just blinks at you, slow and languid, and then smiles, her brows knit just so. "Iunno how I can help you, Riccin." She's always so quiet, quiet, quiet: your ears are still ringing from the noise from Carnival and Sipara's clout across the head, and you gotta lean in just to catch her cant. "I'm sure I don't know the sort of thing you.. um, that you might be interested in."

"Nonsense! You know everything." Flattery wins every soul over, doesn't it? You're pretty sure you heard that. The indigo makes a curious noise, and you look at him side-long. "Hasn't she told you that, brother?"

"Liable. And no! She forgot to say," he says, amused. "I mean, obviously, she's pretty smart, but.. everything?"

"Oh." She's flushing. "Um. No, not everything -"

"Everything," you confirm cheerily. She's turning as red as a bottle of the proctor's hemming. "Girl's got a mind like a steeltrap. Can't forget anything, not ever, not once she hears it! She's better than a fucking computer."

The indigo - nah, Liable - looks from you to her. You can see the moment the thought clicks in his pan, that this is who he's been talking to, and maybe Canvio does too, because she squares her shoulders, and even her snub of a nose scrunches up like she just smelled something sour.  "Riccin," she says, plainative, and this is as close to a reprimand as she's ever gotten with you. "What do you want?"

And maybe it's 'cause she's so plainative that you just spit it out. "How come some folks get ports?" you demand. "'cause I saw a girl without 'em in town, and she was still using her psi, and everything."

".. not every psionic needs ports." She's back to twirling her hair around her hand, watching you through her lashes. Canvio's only a little shorter than you, but she acts like she's so much smaller. "Was she part of the program?"

You think of Ico, and the way he doted on her. He doesn't like the rest of the program, aside from you and Sipara. Sometimes you think he doesn't even like Iphige, for all the attention he pays her, and she's his fucking moirail.

"Nah," you say.

"Then that's why." She nods, brisk, and then slips into that tone you're used to hearing from her testing: the slight drone that sets the base of your horns to itching as her powers kick in. "Amplification ports were developed in the sixteenth cohort cycle of our empress's reign," she recites, "as a tool to aid in the development of her Dreaded Condescensions' newly fledged fleet. The first institution to use them formally was the Imperial Dreadnought Core: soon afterwards, they became standard in the Imperial Education Program, before spreading throughout the remainder of the empire's government."

She blinks. Switches tracks. "Tonight," she says, eyes shining faintly with gold, "they are common amongst the upper cohorts, but high prices and the lack of availability makes them rare in the leading cycle. Amplification ports are primarily found in members of early Ascension programs, such as the IEP, IPC, PSC, RFP and MANTRA, and the installation of flight-accessible ports in pre-Ascension citizens is illegal under statute 78.C.23-A, without the prior filing of permission and a signed referral stating intent of use by a fleet official of at least ranking 8-A-C."

Liable's staring, when you glance his way.

"And that's.. maybe why she doesn't have them. I think?" It's queer, the way that Canvio swaps back to reality. Her psionics go out, and just like that, so's her confidence. "I think," she adds again, worried. "I.. it's hard to know for sure, unless I saw her. Did you think she needed them? Because, ah, I don't think - well, not everyone does."

"Maybe they don't need 'em, but -" Even Sipara has ports, you want to argue. You've helped her strip off her arm before! It's all hamburger meat and jagged lines where she cut straight through it, badly sealed as if she'd used crazy glue to fix it, but there's a port there, buried into the scars and flesh of her wrist. "- shouldn't they have them?" you argue, and you're gonna say more, but Canvio's looking at you.

It's the same way lots of folks have started looking at you, lately, and the words die on your tongue.

"Why.. um." She licks her lips, turns away so that she can watch you from the corner of her eye. "I don't think -"

"I don't see why they would," Liable says, rallying. He's leaning forward on the table now, fins drooping even as he peers at you. "If you can use your abilities without them, why would you want tech put in you? And if you're not going to do something with your psionics -"

"Brother, why the fuck wouldn't you?" Something on his face shifts, but it's only when Canvio flinches that you realise your voice's picked up. But you can't help it. This conversation's making you antsy in a way you can't figure out, except that they're not fucking getting it. "We have 'em for a reason," you snap. "If you ain't using 'em, the fuck are you but a joke without a punchline? What's the point of it? Might as well crack open your pan and scrape it clean, if you're rebuffing what the fuck you're made for -"

And he's looking at you strange now, too, like you're saying something worth staring over.

You swallow the rest of your lecture, turn on your heel and fucking leave.

Your third, and final, attempt is with Kindra.

Myrrha won't understand! Myrrha gets squeamish about her own port; you caught her with jade under her nails the entire first sweep she had it, and all she has is the sort they give wrigglers, scarcely bigger than your thumb. Liyiji doesn't care, and wouldn't see it as relevant to the either of you. Sometimes you think he doesn't even remember you're not blue, the way he acts!

Weeds.. well, you're not sure what he'd care, either, but that thought's stranger, and it sort of stings.

But Kindra's more kin than any of the rest of them. Kindra's your castemate, and your friend, and the only fucker with as much gear in him as you've got. He's let you sprawl out in his apartment for the nights after your surgeries, when every piece of flesh in your body is griping about the new additions, and you've seen him when his neck's still swollen and yellow, and he won't let almost nobody come near. Everything you've been through, he's done, too. Every proctor exam you've taken, every night you've spent hooked up in some chair, running test after test to see how shit's playing out - well, some of that, he's even done more'n you.

If anyone's gonna get it, he will.

And lucky for you, he's in his block when you come pounding on the door, hollering loud enough that some idiot down the row pokes their head out. "Kindra! Kindra!"

"If you don't stop knocking," he says, flat and dull through the wood, "I'm not opening it."

There's one problem with Kindra, and that's that you can't just slip on past him. You gotta orchestrate your moves! He's like Canvio, but worse in every way: all you ever gotta worry about 'round her is the fact she'll remember every little piece of everything you ever do, and the proctors like to go rifling through her pan. So you can't ever do anything they wouldn't like in front of her, or they'll hear about it. It's not too bad, though. It means she's always happy to see you, on account of the fact you're one of the only fuckers who doesn't care.

It isn't like you ever do shit the proctors care about, anyway.

But Kindra remembers everything he ever touches, not just sees, and he remembers it forever and ever: a list of all your sins, all your actions, every thought that you might ever have fucking had. It's a wretched kind of thought! Not for you, necessarily, 'cause what do you have to hide? He'd probably do better if he had your stuff jangling in his night long to keep 'em company, and keep his spirits up. He's grumpy enough as is. And it's not like you'd mind, considering it's /him/.

But every time you try to imagine knowing every cringing, slinking thought in Canvio's head - having her permanently bouncing around - it makes your skin crawl.

So you sidle past him, instead, careful to keep your hands and arms in, and when you get in his hive, you flounce immediately over to his couch. There's a spot that you've decided is yours, though you stopped short of carving your name into it. When you fling yourself onto the arm of it, knees braced, shoulders and head sprawled across the back - you can shift just right to watch Kindra on the other side of it, dramatic as fuck, and no risk of tipping right onto him.

Nah, if he kicks out, you'll just tip off the back. As he's fucking proven, a couple of times.

But he doesn't kick at you this time. He just closes and locks his door, then settles onto the other end of the couch, watching you. "Well? What's got you in a knot this time?" he says, and it's so fucking strange, seeing him without the mask. Sometimes you forget he's got a mouth under there! A mouth, and a face, and a whole slew of expressions that you never, ever get to see.

Except right now, while he frowns.

"Well?" he demands, and there's a hundred things you could say, if you could figure out how. Nobody fucking gets it. Nobody gets it, and you don't understand why, 'cause it's clear as the stars in the sky. She didn't have a port, and she should've. What's the point of psi without it? Shepherd's always saying that a psionic without one's useless as a dog without a leash, and it's true! Your job is to serve the Empire. It always has been, ever since you hatched out and started sparking.

How're folks supposed to do that, bare-necked?

How can anyone else stand the thought there's folks out there, not doing their goddamn duties?

Maybe, if you had enough time, you could figure out how to say something like that. Maybe, if Kindra wasn't watching you, and waiting, and you weren't so riled.

What comes out, instead, is: "- d'you think we need ports?"

He squints at you.

His ears aren't big like yours! They're like Li's, smaller than Sipara's, but just big enough to read. So when they twitch back, you take note. "They kind of suck," he says, flat, but.. he doesn't look at you like Canvio or Liable or Sipara all have started. His mouth just twitches to the side, and he slumps a little against the cushions, eyebrows rising up like they're an afterthought. "But."

"They're necessary! Why're you thinking about 'em? You're going to give yourself ulcers."

"I don't have - whatevers!" He's hanging around the legislacerators too much, you think, if he's using that sort of terminology. That doesn't even sound like a word, never mind a real one.

"Yeah, that's why you're gonna give yourself 'em," he sniffs. "Try listening. Why? Did one of your weirdos say we didn't?"

"One of the legis did." His contempt is as familiar as the back of Shepherd's hand. It's sort of soothing. Everyone else can be strange, but Kindra's always been on your level: he gets you, in a way that nobody else fucking does. And as far as you're concerned, you think you do, too.

You've never tried to touch his face, after all, even though you could. Or his hand, or anything else! There's plenty of trolls who see a fucker wrapped up like a mummy, and take that as a lark to try and push, but you've never been one of them. "The legi's are dumb," he declares, prompt. "Don't listen to them. What do they know, other than laws? Nothing."

.. even if right now, you want to. The couch is fine to drape on, but you don't want to fucking drape on something. You want your lusus, or you want Ico petting your hair, or - something that's more comforting than dead fabric under you, because every thought in your pan's a fucking mess right now.

But Kindra can't touch you, his lusus is too pointy to hold, and visiting hours for yours are over for the day. So you curl in tighter against the couch instead, with a whuff loud enough that you're sure they can hear it out in the hallway. "I guess."

"Well, I know." He's so certain, sometimes! There's no hesitation as he leans back into the couch, reaches for the remote. "Do you want to watch a movie?" he offers. "One of your stupid romcoms. Get your pan off of it. There's a new one out --"

"Would you still be friends with me, brother, if I didn't have wetware?"

He blinks at you.

".. of course I would." So much for that confidence! You could've dropped a pin in that silence. You could've started a war, had a hand-fasting, died and been passed over by three different descendents by the time he musters up the answer. But at least it's an answer, for all the fact that he is giving you a look now, one of the ones that means you're being awful dumb. Sure enough: " - you're stuck with me now. /But/ that's a really dumb question."

"You've got a really dumb face," you shoot back. Is that the answer you wanted? You're not sure! You're.. it's wrong, for folks not to have ports. It's wrong, and it's awful, and it makes your neck itch, makes you want to scratch until your hands are painted, like Myrrha used to do. It means they're wretched, and stupid, and useless - like pupas.

Like you used to be, before you came and joined the program.

But you shouldn't think about this anymore right now! You want to, in a twisting kind of way: you want to dig into it 'til you've got it split open, 'til you understand every inch and corner of it, 'til there's naught you don't know, and the words come as easy as song. Would you be friends, if Kindra didn't have a port?

That's a good question.

He clears his throat. When you look at him, he waves the remote, impatient, and it's a wonder, how much you can pick up from a sound. Exasperation, irritation, worry: everything he does is always like a ballad wrapped in a ditty, if you're just payin' enough attention.

So you huff: "- start the movie, brother."

(.. you wouldn't be, you don't think, but you can't imagine not being friends with Kindra, not ever. So you'd just have to get him one, that's all - and oh, that thought smooths your hackles some. Maybe that's what Ico's doing, too.)

(Maybe it's alright, if folks don't have ports. Maybe it's alright, even, if they think they don't need 'em - 'cause maybe, just maybe, that's what fuckers like you are here for, to tell them and show them that they're fucking wrong.)

[the-warmest-hands]

November has come

monday: ran to utegym at polo fields and then ran back. went to spoke easy before they even opened and got a loaner stem, still needa order a real one. stuck my old bars on which kinda fit? (later on i tried to gun it on balboa bump and handlebars moved, soooooo maybe it doesn’t fit) went to school on that shit anyway no bar tape, so cold bars. COLD BARS COLD HANDS in arch worked on science room with ray, it was good and we made progress tuesday: sore from utegym cuz weak, did stretch (eric goodman), went to volunteering where i shoveled a hundred loads of wood chips and got a blister from hauling wheelbarrows of that shit. it was fun af tho cuz strong and also fatigue then went to work where it was chill af and the perfect amount of orders also it was halloween and i ate some candy. also sayaka put a eyeball bow in my hair cuz i was looking very unfestive wednesday: decided to be lazy and not go to utegym. then dressed super nice (in emily’s clothes) and didn’t even bike to school but i looked fly as fuck!!!!!!! and then got nothing done in arch. bussed home and read more of jacques pepin memoir which was so fucking good then biked to work more perfect level of work then biked home in less than 5 minutes cuz im fast af

damn im tired

tomorrow gonna utegym. gotta get dem abs #swimmerBodNoSwim also it’s november also work is dope yo fuckin dig that shit

thurs: no utegym cuz woke up late. dragged my ass to volunteering. then work. chill timez friday: utegym! then trip planning and quick stop at spoke easy to order replacement parts. then work. work was good. j is back

saTURDay: transplanting at OH50 / work 4 dayz

sunday: BUILD TABLE went to discount builders for studs, carried them the 4 blocks to noisebridge, measured and cut our pieces, then sanded, then started nailing shit together. coulda done a better job planning cuz we then had to use wood glue cuz we didnt want to have the screws be visible. clamped and left it there to dry

monday: science room with ray at enchante, then bussed to noisebridge to meet emily and do minor sanding. took table home via uber

tuesday: volunteering (tired af) trapping gophers! / work (still tired af)

wednesday: school? what the fuck i don’t even remember cuz i’m tired af hung out with ray and we got no work done because we were just talking about food (and now i have to do a million fucking things), then work which was brutal

thursday: biked to get various errand shit in potrero hill / discount builders since we were going that way anyway and apparently every other hardware store is like $$$$$$$ because fucking idfk, bought some pants at xroads cuz one of my two pairs of jeans ripped on tuesday (in the bikeseat crotch area, same demise as all previous pairs of pants) (maybe i should get a new saddle) (with what money tho) (but actually maybe) then went to work which was brutal also now i’m home and uhh i have to do homework

also since i like to be stressed all the goddamn time i’m going to spend all of my free time browsing requirements for grad school

why

why do this

i never even fucking browse internet anymore

because i am literally never on my laptop

because i have no goddamn time

this year is almost over

plz hurry

oh also splurged and got myself a croissant at arsicault finally (seriously i needa stop going to places just to buy shit for other people and not buying anything for myself??? DO THEY EVEN DESERVE IT) (but also seriously stop. i have no money for this) (also got emily one too cuz i mean, almond croissant? that had her name on it) (but also seriously. poverty rules everything around me. PREAM) (ok i want to die bye tumblr) (also misha are u happy w these xanga-esque angst posts LMAO all 4 u bro) (jk i know u have no time to read my bs)

also been listening to rly dope music lately like ACE OF BASE the best this shit gonna get me thru the rest of 2017 like how 3EB got me thru every programming job ever (”got me thru” aka “kept me from quitting even sooner” LMAO) goodbye tech forever goodnight moon

friday: wtf day even is it woke up worked on science room cuz ray couldn’t meet up for whatever reason who gaf (but also prolly i was more productive since i didn’t waste a hundred hours chatting) listened to a lot of ace of base a lot still listening to ace of base actually then went to work after i spent a hundred hours doing 1 insignificant af thing

work was ok started slow, then more orders, also ate a lot of candy in effort to stay alive talked to bosses after work and they said i was doing a good job but also seem to always be in a trance whenever im prepping. aka being slow af. okkkkkkk i will work harder on this also im dying and im prolly gonna cut OH50 tomorrow because i honestly can’t or i could just take the bus there and bring my laptop and work on science room project or i could not take the bus there and just work on science room project at home

i needa ride my bike on monday at polo field im dying

i need to clear my head

saturday: k i cut OH50 because i frankly couldn’t be bothered, and also did fucking nothing broke my window cuz i sat on it while putting up lights so now i have to fix this also my phone for some fucking reason isn’t charging so i have to figure out wtf is going on there uh work was good idk bosses gave me birthday gifts