#but because it indicates that you are unpersoning them

[madtomedgar]

"I don't want people offended by "f****t" as a "slur" following me" --homophobic asshole or 3edgy5u tumblr kweer?

[androphagy]

to begin: this is about the transgender demographic and anyone who believes they fall under that umbrella as a whole. no one is exempt from being transmisogynistic (or misogynistic in general) on basis of sex or gender. presentation absolutely contributes to level of bigotry experienced, especially in relation to transphobia; if you're a no-op no/pre-HRT transmasculine person, you are not going to see the same level -- if at all -- of transphobia the average trans woman (and someone who is medically transitioning, depending on the situation) does. that is another post entirely, but know that this is about trans people tearing other trans people down in an almost crabs-in-a-bucket mentality.

that being said: if your only critiques of other trans people are you're a credulous weapon for engaging with [gender demographic i resent] and on basis of sex you're ontologically incapable of being anything other than [variety of bigotry based on oppositional dynamics] and you should be mistrusted as such in every situation then mix it up with epithets such as "itfab" and, i quote, "i do not care about the poor little girls who didn't come out of T looking like an anime twink, at all, nobody should" -- you're not ready for any form of discussion beyond high school cafeteria gossip. and even then, that might be pushing it.

there are ways to discuss and condemn bigotry (of all kinds) within a certain demographic without smearing and insulting them under the idea of "they've had it too good for too long, they deserve it" and all but saying "transphobia is praxis if its the ones that see less overt effects of oppression." anger and frustration is natural -- and personally, important! -- but disguising vitriolic misogynistic rhetoric as a real and "valid" breakdown on the pervasive societal role of transmisogyny is not going to make anything better, aside from maybe a few minute's relief by offloading well-deserved but misdirected rage.

(again) personally, i don't believe that there's any true unity to be had in the hyperindividualistic-but-homogenized social media age. addressing any group within what could be loosely defined as "queer" or "TQ+" comes with having to make so many caveats, people telling you what you missed or wrongfully included, and is tied up in so much interpersonal conflict that gets mistaken for genuine commentary on the current existence and history of gender identity that it feels entirely pointless to make any posts attempting to speak in good faith to begin with, especially due to the (again) hyperindividualism and extremely selfish worldviews held by people who don't have to be or aren't ever verbally challenged outside of the internet aside from, as i said, interpersonal conflict. the lack of real life experience also influences these issues.

can said conflict be indicative of a larger issue? of course. you see it in the use of callout posts/blogs/docs and how they aide in transmisogyny as a tool for unpersoning and ostracizing trans women and those on the transfeminine axis; callouts would be on the board of things utilized by people AFAB/CAFAB (because in the interest of honesty, when "TME" is used in reference to online queer discourse, it's talking about trans men, nonbinary people CAFAB/AFAB, and cis women. i think we can agree that by-and-large cis men are not indulging in discussions of gender politics, especially through the lens of fandom and social media) to silence and chase away trans women and transfems from online and real-life spaces.

that, however, doesn't mean breaking up into insular cliques that use harmful rhetoric as basis for coloring worldviews with the beliefs that other trans people as a whole are the enemy somehow fixes this, especially when said cliques are doing nothing aside from being as mean as possible and centering a "target" of which is acceptable in said clique to punch down on. they aren't writing theory, bringing any new discussion to the table, or working towards a healthier and more understanding future for all involved; they are all interested fostering cruelty for the sake of being cruel.

i truly do understand the anger. i don't talk about my personal experiences here because i also understand that they're not the norm for someone of my typical demographic, and i've never been in any community for LGBT+ people beyond a short stint in a high school GSA which was overrun by cishet "allies" who decided to kick the few actual LGBT people out in favor of appealing to fans of rupaul's drag race (which is a long and extremely frustrating story.) i've given no reason to believe me, but i'm coming at this from years of observing many different groups from all over the "LGBT umbrella", along with research and readings in addition to my personal experiences.

in short: you're telling me that this group of transgender people are ontologically worse/"bad"/more dangerous than the others and should not be trusted until they prove that they're one of the good ones? isn't that exactly what we should be going against instead of encouraging?

[lavideenrose]

"Basic dynamic in life: there is nothing meaningful enough to make you happy that could not make you sad if you lost it. This is the paradox of feeling, and it’s inherent and existential. If things inspire real positive emotion in you then they are necessarily things in which you are sufficiently invested that you would feel negative emotions when they’re gone. One of the fundamental choices that you face on Earth is the degree to which you’ll pursue deeper but riskier fulfillment or practice avoidance that exempts you from bad feelings but leaves you bereft of good ones. We all move in one direction or the other, from one day to another, certainly including me, but it feels to me as if our society is decidedly embracing the latter. Depth and intensity of feeling risk too much; Xbox and hard seltzer and HR culture anesthetize. Pop culture soothes and placates with a steady series of uncomplicated morality tales in predigested narratives where nothing ever really changes and so there’s no worry that the storyline will move in a way that hurts your feelings."

...

"I find it very very bleak! Here you have kids talking about why they prefer online life and identifying precisely the conditions that make me despondent: they like being online more than living their real lives because their online lives serve as an intermediary and distraction from what they don’t like about themselves and their world. They’re too young to know that you’re not supposed to admit that the point of being very online is to avoid the self. They say the quiet part out loud. Online life is more “peaceful and calming” because online you’re permitted to be a vegetable. Online you can mute yourself, render yourself an unperson, remove yourself from existence and in so doing avoid the pain of being alive. The attitudes here are indicative of young people who have been failed by the adults around them, who in addition to the responsibility to keep them alive should be forcing them to contend with the inevitability of sadness and the need to come to terms with themselves. Someone has to tell these kids, “wherever you go, you’ll find yourself there, and you have to start to do the work of accepting who you are, as much as you may not like yourself.” The stakes are high. I don’t mean to get dark here, but a kid who fantasizes about the ability to mute himself in real life is a kid I worry about someday muting himself permanently in real life."

...

"What would a healthy culture and caring parents do for those kids? They would be pulled aside and told: you are you, and you will always be you; we live here, on this planet, in this culture, as this species; you live in the times you live in, and you will never live anywhere else. There’s no escape, for any of us. The world gets better and it gets worse. Your life gets easier and it gets harder. Progress happens. Happiness is possible. But the world is an irredeemably broken place, tragedy is the endowment of our bodies and our gods and our world, and you will always, always, always be you. You can hide in your room, but you’ll still be you. And you’ll still be you when you head off to college and make brand new friends, and you’ll still be you after you come out to your parents, and you’ll still be you after you get that job or that promotion or that raise, and you’ll still be you after you lose those last 10 pounds, and you’ll still be you after you fall in love, and you’ll still be you after the AI revolution or the socialist revolution or the love revolution or any other revolution. The only sensible path forward is to learn to accept the brokenness of human life, to develop resilience in the face of its petty cruelties, and to learn to live with yourself. Not to love yourself; I mean, if you can love yourself, great, but in general I find the commandment to love yourself paternalistic and annoying. Even with all the therapy and meds and growth I’ll never be someone who loves himself. But I have learned to live with myself. Young people need to be gently guided in that direction, but the anonymity and disconnection of online life directly obstruct that goal."

[emberoops]

thinking about personhood, and how ive defined it, and how i ought to define it for the purposes of my novel.

this is somewhere that my powers are a detriment, i think; they're an easy shortcut. anything with a soul - which i can sense - is a person. anything without a soul isn't.

and ive taken that along without thinking about it critically. but what if, say, someone traded their soul - their entire soul - to someone else? they wouldn't have one. have they then lost personhood? i would argue not; you can't make a person a not-person except by killing them, and arguably the only thing you've unpersoned is the corpse. in my experience with revivals, the essence of the person is still out there - but this again loops back around to the soul.

which is problematic for the obvious reasons outlined above - something which falls apart under even that scrutiny, which i came up with in about a second, surely cannot be useful overall. it's unreliable.

but additionally, it's problematic for the book, because i wouldnt expect a machine made by humans to have a soul, and in fact i would argue that some of the things lost are ideas and notions typically associated with either 'humanity' or 'the soul'.

and if i dont view that as a person, then my premise - that the robot should have the autonomy of a person, to make the choice in whether to sacrifice himself for another, human person - falls apart. additionally, i do view him as a person.

so now i don't really know what defines personhood any more. it can't be soul, for the reasons outlined above. emotion is also frequently used, but i disagree with that entirely - the number of emotions which can simply not exist in neurodiverse people, people whose personhood i not only believe in but am prepared to defend fiercely, indicates to me that it cannot be the basis for personhood either.

so what is? is it merely self-awareness? do we go back to the mirror test? that's rudimentary and it feels insufficient, but i haven't been able to think my way to a better solution yet.

[writingpracticetime]

It might be fun to do the opposite. But the best Sci fi isn't just fun. It demonstrates an understanding of human behavior and how it interacts with technology.

So then, let's ask this: under what conditions do humans "bond" with other beings and objects? And under what conditions do they stop doing so?

In my opinion, people "pack bonding" with inanimate objects and current AI is a function of them being nonpersons. It's easy to be friendly to and like the robots that currently exist, because they can never have conflicting wants or desires against yours. At most, they will misinterpret your orders or fulfil them in a way that you didn't expect. And isn't that just cute of them?

The second that AI become resources/workforce that have genuine demands that conflict with our wants, count on this "packbonding" to become functionally irrelevant. It doesn't matter how sentient they are or how cute people found them before: they were brought into existence to achieve commercial goals for corporations. If you think them being cute or humans "packbonding" guarantees humane treatment, I would like to direct your attention to every single factory farm in existence, and every single prison in the United States.

People getting friendly with computers or apologizing when they bump into chairs does not indicate a universal bestowing of personhood and compassion-worthiness to all beings. Personhood can be easily assigned to an object, yes--but it is just as often revoked, turning animals and even human beings into unpersons when convenient to our purposes.

So then here is my pack-bonding-with-AI story for you:

Everyone wants to be friends with the ship's AI! She has a pleasant, friendly voice and can even run through basic conversations. The upper deck techs flirt with her. She flirts back. Of course, she can't actually feel anything back. She's not designed for that. She's purposefully not designed for any sentience whatsoever. Still, of course, she gets coffee settings just right for every upper deck crewmember in the morning and at least 4 people say "Marry me, Sall-E."

The captain chuckles and says "these schmucks will make friends with anything, huh?"

Below deck there are hundreds of laborers, indentured servants who do physical labor to generate the power that the ship runs on. Many men, some women, most criminals of some kind. They often fall injured and die of scant medical care.

The upper deck crew members do have to go below deck to tinker with things, from time to time. None of them so much as look one of these workers in the eye.

Sometimes when one of the below deck laborers become too injured or sick Sall-E shunts them out of the airlock. That was one of the things she was designed for, after all. To ensure the judicious use of resources on the ship, which means not keeping on dead weight. This did also include one of the female laborers that got pregnant against regulations and thus was no longer able to work.

Also Sall-E makes sure the pancakes have smiley faces on them every morning because it cheers up the upper crew. Oh, and currently Lieutenant Peter and Commander Travis have a joke competition to try and get her to say which one of them she likes the best. Adorable!

while i understand why a lot of sci-fi has humans being shitty to AIs while the AIs are like “i am just existing what the fuck” I think it’d be fun to do the opposite. Homo “will packbond with anything” sapiens DESPERATELY trying to get the favor and friendship of an Artificial Intelligence that is mostly indifferent to them. They want the ship’s computer to like them sooooo fucking bad!!

[colourprinter]

THE PROCESS IS COMPLETE

TEXTUAL ARCHIVE BELOW "READ MORE"

FINAL RECOVERED LOG OF W. COLOUR (03 - THE SURVIVOR)

"I don't think I have much battery left, all the ones I had on me have burned out so this may be my last log. At this point, I wouldn't even know where to get more" The hollow voice of Wendy Colour speaks out, a sigh can be heard as the visual light adjusts, going from a bright white to a sunny scene in the eye-cam view. In view is a dense forest with a clearing directly in front, a single, heavily overgrown, house sits in the centre of the clearing.

"It's been 500 years since I've seen my close relatives, 500 years since I've seen my friends... I miss them" the view then changes, pointing down towards the thick grass, a pair of black covered legs and a large tree log in view now. "Over 200 years since Conner... He was great" the view goes back to the house, "I guess this is what I was warned about"

Wendy gets up, her movements slow and sloppy, "500 years ago, I guess that god he talked about got what they wanted" the view suddenly whips around, Wendy's fist has split the log she had previously been sitting on. "Of course I was going to fight, put me in the head role and tell me to then not fight for me, my friends, my family" Her voice quivers, removing her fist from the log, again, the view returns to the house.

"I wasn't going to see some god remove this world from existence, but..." One slow step towards the house, "I guess I get why. Why they wanted to do it. My life has just been a retelling of someone else's, my friends, my family, almost all of them the same as the 'other' me. All of them, except you and your group" her step becomes a walk as she heads towards the building.

"If it wasn't for you pulling Del into it all, we would have been wiped from existence, I still don't get how you had such a dedicated following while being so unpersonable. I was told that I should head to the start and, well this is a quicker check than leaving the country, glad I secured this place when I had the chance" Wendy pulls out a keychain, she fumbles the keys a few times but eventually finds what she's looking for. "I hope that you and your friends at least were able to live your lives to the fullest. Because after you went, things slowed, like nothing was happening, like you were the focal point of the world. Even if there was the tiniest slither of a chance that he was wrong, that the world would have continued without a problem, I would go through it all over again to make sure"

She unlocks the door, it promptly falls backwards to the floor, the hinges long rusted away. "Maybe I should have been kept in the cave, not allowed to see past it all, just put it to an end, without a struggle, without a fight. Maybe this god didn't want to just let us go, even though we would eventually rot away without any events to continue the 'story'. Maybe the next world will be more lucky" she looks around, everything either broken and rotted or completely covered in the overgrown vegetation.

"I've had enough time to complain, to moan, I just wish it could just be that happy ending, taking down Gravity Knuckle or power of friendshipping back a corpo army, if things just.... Stopped in either of those moments, just a snap of the fingers, no way to fight back or look doom in the eye... I'd probably be happy" The home would have been contemporary for when it was last inhabited, untouched by man, only plant. Wendy continues through the room, turning to look up the stairs heading up, they were intact but the wooden railing had long since rotted away, only heavily rusted nails in the wall to indicate where it once stood.

"If anyone picks this up, if anyone actually listens to my words, my story... Thank you, if this is the first one you've picked up, please listen to the rest, they should be together" careful steps up, just in case her foot falls through, "If one person takes a look, even if they can't understand, just the curiosity to check, the drove to take a peek down the rabbit hole... It'll be worth it to me. I've seen heroes come and pass, family, friends, good times, bad times. As far as I'm aware, I'm the only one left, not smart enough to repair Delta, not brave enough to-" the visuals start to blur slightly as her voice shakes, "-to save my brother... The only one who could understand, the only one who both cared enough and could have lived long enough" she takes a deep breath, the blur fades with a few blinks, she wipes her cheeks and from the quick view of her arm, it can be seen that it has become slightly wet.

"I guess... At this point, I've just been repeating myself" she looks around at the top of the stairs, turning to the right and heading to what appears to be a bedroom. On the completely destroyed mattress of the bed is a tennis ball sized glowing white spiky crystal, appearing very out of place within the dark, abandoned home. "This is it?" She reaches out towards it before hesitating with her hand inches away. "If I do this... There is no going back..." A moment of silence passes, "But... I'm tired of overthinking things, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure about this" she grabs onto it, pulling it towards her.

The crystal starts to glow, the core glowing white as the edges glow different rainbow colours, "Well this iS WeeeeiiiIIIRRRDDDD" as she spoke, her voice started to warp, changing between her regular voice, a more angry sounding voice and a higher pitched and cheery voice. The fabric of reality around her starts to warp and pull apart, pulling and pulling until cracks start to appear. She looks down to herself, multicoloured lines surround her body, what goes into the surrounding lines comes out warped and different, her shoulders going in and cybernetic limbs going out, one of her legs even became that of an equine.

She looks ahead again, reality continues to crack, now cracked into multiple different reflections, an unidentified breed of winged pony, a woman with the fury of an army, an aged but youthful woman seeing her life collapse in front of her, a reflection of herself, and a fighter with cybernetic limbs. Other cracks appear showing creatures she could not identify as herself.

After a moment, these cracked reflections crack again, each new crack a different, warped version of the whole. These crack again, the realities showing the possible and impossible, if Wendy had stayed with the sister she ended up opposing, if her brother was evil, if they were all lizards, if they were all in school together, the amount of variations were endless. For every better outcome, there was a worse outcome, there was no strict rhyme or reason.

Wendy stares down infinity, it was never going to stop, now, it would never stop. "When he fell from the sky... My older brother, he said something that I never really understood, 'When you have to make the call, if you ever make the big sacrifice, you'll never know if what you did was right in the end, you'll never see the outcome. So you just have to believe'" she takes a deep breath in, and out, "I guess I understand that now, all I can do from this point on is hope"

RECORDING END

[baileye]

Basic dynamic in life: there is nothing meaningful enough to make you happy that could not make you sad if you lost it. This is the paradox of feeling, and it’s inherent and existential. If things inspire real positive emotion in you then they are necessarily things in which you are sufficiently invested that you would feel negative emotions when they’re gone. One of the fundamental choices that you face on Earth is the degree to which you’ll pursue deeper but riskier fulfillment or practice avoidance that exempts you from bad feelings but leaves you bereft of good ones. We all move in one direction or the other, from one day to another, certainly including me, but it feels to me as if our society is decidedly embracing the latter. Depth and intensity of feeling risk too much; Xbox and hard seltzer and HR culture anesthetize. Pop culture soothes and placates with a steady series of uncomplicated morality tales in predigested narratives where nothing ever really changes and so there’s no worry that the storyline will move in a way that hurts your feelings. Crowdsourced “content” is built on ephemerality. Ask a TikTok megafan, someone who’s totally unapologetic and proud about their love of the service: what’s a TikTok that you still come back to, a year later, two years later, three? I think the honest answer is “none.” Because like so many other things in our culture, those videos are designed to be thrown away. They can’t hurt you, but they can’t move you. They’ll never challenge you, and they’ll never inspire you. All they’re meant to do is help you pass the seconds that make up your life, a finite and precious resource.

The above image comes from this focus group conducted by The New York Times. I find it very very bleak! Here you have kids talking about why they prefer online life and identifying precisely the conditions that make me despondent: they like being online more than living their real lives because their online lives serve as an intermediary and distraction from what they don’t like about themselves and their world. They’re too young to know that you’re not supposed to admit that the point of being very online is to avoid the self. They say the quiet part out loud. Online life is more “peaceful and calming” because online you’re permitted to be a vegetable. Online you can mute yourself, render yourself an unperson, remove yourself from existence and in so doing avoid the pain of being alive. The attitudes here are indicative of young people who have been failed by the adults around them, who in addition to the responsibility to keep them alive should be forcing them to contend with the inevitability of sadness and the need to come to terms with themselves. Someone has to tell these kids, “wherever you go, you’ll find yourself there, and you have to start to do the work of accepting who you are, as much as you may not like yourself.” The stakes are high. I don’t mean to get dark here, but a kid who fantasizes about the ability to mute himself in real life is a kid I worry about someday muting himself permanently in real life.

I stress that I’m not mad about something these kids have done. I’m mad about something that’s being done to them. For profit. For profit. For profit. For profit.

[five-rivers]

Pep Talks 12

I think this might be the longest chapter of Pep Talks so far...

(AO3)

.

.

.

When Clockwork first took Danny on as an apprentice, he’d laid out some ground rules for when he unexpectedly found himself in an unknown timeline. As Apprentice of Time, Danny was more likely to attract anomalies like natural portals and the like, and when that was combined with his innate bad luck regarding portals, well… winding up in weird places wasn’t quite a weekly occurrence, but saying it was wouldn’t have been a huge exaggeration.

That’s all to say, Danny appreciated the rules. He didn’t want to wind up never having been born again, or, worse, making it so that one of his friends had never been born. Or causing an apocalypse. Or wrecking the future. Or—

There were just a lot of problems that he could, and had, caused.

If Clockwork were able to pick Danny up right away every time, most of the rules probably would have been unnecessary. But he wasn’t. Mostly because of physics-shaped problems involving paradoxes and how too many time portals in the same general area could screw things up, but also because of Observant- and politics-shaped problems. And, Clockwork had admitted to Danny, sometime Clockwork left him somewhere because he was supposed to be there.

The first rule was to lay low. Avoid people when possible, except to acquire basic necessities. Avoid major events, crowds, protests, and cameras. Avoid important-looking buildings.

Do not offer help unless asked first, or unless the person is a ghost. There was, evidently, a loophole that made it okay for Danny to interact with ghosts even in places where it wasn’t okay for him to do the same to humans. Clockwork had said ghosts fell under Danny’s ‘jurisdiction,’ a term that seemed just a bit too weighty with meaning for Danny. As for being allowed to help when asked… Well, Clockwork knew that Danny was incapable of not helping. Although he did ask that Danny be subtle and indirect about it.

He was also not supposed to fight anyone unless he himself was directly attacked, for similar reasons.

The fourth rule was to stay within the accepted rules of the world he found himself in, where possible. In other words, if people generally didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural, don’t challenge that belief by using his powers in public, but if superpowers were common, it was okay to use them.

The fifth was that, if he found himself in the past, leave civilized areas. With the threat of unpersoning himself hanging over his head, Danny took that one very seriously.

The sixth, the one that made Danny feel like a little kid despite his real age, was, if the previous rule didn’t apply, try to stay in the same general area he first found himself in.

There were others, of course, and special ones for special circumstances. For example, if he was captured by law enforcement, or injured, or actively in danger, or if he didn’t know what time period he was in. Different sets of rules prevailed if he was actually on a mission.

Clockwork had also told him that the rules no loner applied if it took him more than two weeks to find Danny. That, if he’d been waiting for that long, something had gone wrong, or Clockwork was unable to find him or pull him out.

It had been just under half that time, and Danny was starting to get worried. More worried.

He pulled his legs up, closer to himself. He didn’t need to conserve warmth, being what he was, but the action was comforting and the abandoned warehouse he was in was weird and creepy.

This whole timeline was weird and creepy. Also, semi-apocalyptic. They were going through some serious societal upheaval. Danny wasn’t entirely sure why, having only been here for six days, but he was pretty sure it had to do with the nascent ghosts partially overshadowing people and giving them power.

At least, that’s what it felt like. Danny wasn’t sure. The next nearest thing to this he’d ever encountered was a warlock, and that had been just one person. Ghosts were under his jurisdiction, but, like the warlock, the people with powers here didn’t quite feel like ghosts, and he wasn’t sure how trustworthy news sources saying that metahumans were all soulless degenerates were…

Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to find out. Hopefully, Clockwork would pick him up before another week went by.

He didn’t think the government here could actually catch him, but some of the things they apparently did to metahumans made his core ache. It was a very X-Men-like situation. Except, well, set in Japan.

Why Japan?

But! Eight more days. Tops. Clockwork would get him.

Before he’d finished the thought, something blew the door of the warehouse in and a ropelike appendage hurtled towards Danny’s corner.

He reacted. Rules were, if someone attacked him, he could respond in kind, and if superpowers were common knowledge, he could use his.

There were at least a dozen of them, all of them displaying an eclectic array of superpowers, some reminiscent of Danny’s ghostly enemies, others entirely novel to him. A fair few also had guns. One man even used multiple powers. Needless to say, the battle was incredibly one sided.

In Danny’s favor.

Hey, he’d been doing this for years, and he was very comfortable with his abilities. Most of these guys weren’t. Most. The multiple-power guy had been challenging.

Danny examined his captives. He should probably just knock them out, then go find a new hideout somewhere else, but he wanted to know why he was attacked, first.

“So,” he said, deciding that the curly-haired man with multiple powers was probably the leader, given the way the battle had been structured, “why did you and your goons attack me?”

“I heard you were like me,” growled the man, attempting to escape Danny’s telekinetic hold. “I’m looking for a power that can help my brother.”

Danny twitched slightly at the word help. “What do you mean, like you?”

“You can take powers, too,” said the man, staring up at Danny with desperate, hungry, red eyes.

Danny blinked, frowned. “You thought I could help you, or your brother, so you attacked me?” His frown became deeper. “Or did you attack me to, what, steal my powers?”

The man squirmed.

It was. That was such a ridiculous villain cliché, although the brother thing was a twist. People could get desperate about their families and do terrible things.

Including Danny. As had been proven many, many times.

His heart and stance both softened. This counted as a request for help, right? And the guy was sort of ghostly. On the other hand… Transplanting whatever it was giving these people powers willy-nilly couldn’t be healthy, especially if it was related to ghosts.

(Multiple ghosts in one body… It reminded him of his dark future self, which was never good.)

“Okay,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “Alright. What exactly does your brother need help with?”

The man clearly hadn’t expected Danny to ask this question. “He’s sick,” he said. His eyes gleamed at the edge of tears. “His body is tearing itself apart, DNA molecule by DNA molecule. If I could just find the right ability, I could save him,” the man’s voice broke, “I knowit.”

Molecule by molecule, huh?

Actually… that was something Danny could help with. Crud. People had powers here, right? He was being asked for help, wasn’t he? He was staying within the rules. Especially seeing as these guys were like warlocks. He was only doing warlock stuff.

“If I help you with this—if,” he stressed when the man perked up. “If I help you with this, I need two things from you. Well, three, really. Actually, no, four.”

“Name them,” declared the man.

“Yeah, I was about to,” said Danny. “Anyway, first, you need to ask your brother if he wants this. If he doesn’t, you have to come back here and return it. Asap. As in, tomorrow.” He was pretty sure he could get Clockwork to give him a day, even if he came to pick Danny up right now.

“Those are your first two conditions, then?”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Third one is, you have to stop taking powers from people who don’t give you permission. The end of that road isn’t pretty.” At least, he was pretty sure it wasn’t. All those little maybe-ghosts, slammed together… Even if it didn’t have any immediate effect on this guy’s personality, the resulting ghost could wind up possessing him. If the ghost vaguely wanted to go with him, that might change things. Maybe. At least, it’d slow things down.

If this worked the way he thought it did.

The man scowled. “And you know this, how?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Look, you’rethe one who said I was like you, not me. Too much of these powers can mess you up.”

“If the number is the problem, it shouldn’t matter how I take them.”

“Do you ever get bad dreams?”

The man stilled completely. “What do you know about that?”

Danny shrugged. “Enough,” he said. “Do you want to be overwhelmed by your powers? Do you want to explode? It could happen.” Actually, Danny had no idea if it could happen or not. But it sounded good. “More importantly, do you want to help your brother or not?”

“Of course I do!”

“Great!” said Danny, clapping his hands together. “Let’s finish this up somewhere privately, okay?” He grabbed the man’s shoulder and phased them through the floor into the basement, which he lit with a ball of ectoplasm. “Okay,” he said. “Fourth thing.”

The man was staring at the ectoplasm with undisguised curiosity. “What is it? Money? A new identity? Passage out of the country?”

“Uh, no,” said Danny. What would he do with any of that, after all? “I need to know the full story behind you and your brother.”

“What? Why? Don’t you know enough?”

“So that I can be sure that I can help, first off. Also, the way I’d be doing it involved me giving you something rather personal, so…” He trailed off with a gesture that indicated he expected the man to talk.

He sighed. “My name is Shigaraki Hisashi. My brother’s name is Kazuki, and he’s been sick since we were children…”

Danny let him give a summary of his life up until this point. He had the vague feeling that he wasn’t being told everything of importance, but, then, not everything about a person’s life could be condensed into an hour or so of storytelling.

Apparently Hisashi had basically raised Kazuki, and once Hisashi’s meta power had come in as a young adult, they’d been completely abandoned by their parents. Hisashi had put together a group of freedom fighters (Danny skeptically recalled the guns, but also forced himself to remember the hints that there might be something like concentration camps for power users) to defend himself, his brother, and others with power. But Kazuki’s illness made him incredibly vulnerable, and as he was Hisashi’s one major weakness…

The feeling that he was living through an ‘X-Men Japan’ comic intensified. He felt so sorry for this guy. Danny knew what this kind of life was like.

“Alright,” he said, softly, finally, “I can help. And, this probably doesn’t mean anything coming from me, but that better world you were talking about? Where people with powers and people without can coexist? I think you’ll be able to make it happen. Just don’t let anyone stop you.”

“I don’t intend to.”

Danny nodded. “I can give you something to help your brother. A power,” he clarified. “But I need you to know, it could change him.”

“Change him?”

“His personality.”

“You were saying something about that before. Forgive me if I don’t agree with you. These powers are tools.”

“Okay, sure, but even just having more options can influence how a person behaves. Just warn him before you give it to him, okay?”

“Of course. I’m a man of my word, after all.”

“Right,” said Danny. “Give me your hand.”

“A handshake?” asked Hisashi.

“Not exactly.”

Danny let a minuscule, almost microscopic, piece of his core break free from the whole. It hurt like a knife to the chest, and some of his physical and mental abilities would be impaired for a while, but he had done it before, and it would heal before long. A fragment this size would give a power on par with those he’d seen so far in this world. It would also grow, of course, but it was unlikely for any human to live long enough for that to become a problem.

He let it pass into Hisashi, and the man shivered.

“That should strengthen his body without being too much of a burden on him,” said Danny.

“What kind of power is it?” asked Hisashi, reclaiming his hand and flexing his fingers.

“Uh,” said Danny, casting about for something vague that would fit. “A gradual stockpile of power. That enhances the user’s body.” That should be close enough. “Remember, ask first.”

“I will, I will,” assured Hisashi one more time. “And you can be sure I’ll be returning regardless, to thank you.”

“Uh huh.”

It took a while for Hisashi and his men to clear out. Longer still for Danny to find a new place to sleep. But he did.

He woke to a time medallion around his neck and Clockwork’s exasperated expression. “Daniel,” he said, “what did you do?”

.

Toshinori and Izuku stared at Danny with open mouths.

“You’re the original stockpile user?” yelled Izuku, pointing.

Danny smiled sheepishly. “Surprise?”

[plutoswrath]

What do you think Winwin’s rising sign is?

I really gave this some good thought because Winwin is one of the members that are a bit harder to assign to a rising sign, but there was an anon that suggested him being a Taurus Ascendant and the more I looked into it, the more it made sense to me as well! I do have other guesses as well, but I think I also want to give my opinion on this possibility, since I wasn’t able to respond in depth back then. I also think Winwin could be considered ‘detached’, or as we like to call it ‘unbothered’, but by no means is that meant negatively, only one reason why I think I’d have to give this a bit more thought. Another important note: Depending on his birth time, he could also be a Libra Moon - I personally have a hard time imagining it but still asdfgh

Taurus rising:  With a Taurus rising in 1st decan he’d have his Sun and Mercury in the 7th (most likely) and I personally can see it to an extend, because people (aka nct) are obsessed with him, while Winwin himself doesn’t always seem to reciprocate that amount of affection (but we’ll get to that later). You’d imagine this placement to be very in your face with their emotions but no, Scorpio in the 7th calls for strong and meaningful connections, and usually has a discretion to the emotional bounds they form. On a nother note, social relations can empower a native or break them down, considering the amount of worship Winwin gets from his own band I’d say it’s pretty empowering asdfghj jk jk. His chart ruler would be his Sagittarius Venus in the 8th, in conjunction with his Mars and appereance wise (focusing on his face here, especially on his eyes!!), and though most people think that would make someone more impulsive and hot headed he’d have an Aquarius MC, which would explain why Winwin is more playful, in his head and can switch ‘on and off’ energy wise. Also: with a Taurus rising 1st decan, he’d probably has it in an opposition to his Sun, which in itself can give someone a strong push and pull of solutide and social contact and brings great complexity to someones nature as they literally can live out a constant push and pull innerly, which will mainfest physically when interacting with others.  With a Taurus rising a 2nd/3rd decan his Mercury and Sun would be in the 6th (preferably) which for me would make more sense theroretically speaking here, and though chances are small, I personally see Winwin as very playful and very much in a situation and moment, he for me doesn’t appear someone who dwells on unnecessary things and this raises the question for me if he has intercepted houses or at best with a 3rd decan Taurus rising his Venus and Mars conjunction still in the 7th. Winwin can be really random, quirky, childish and adorable when he’s just having fun, in the moment and feels comfortable, even though he doesn’t have to try really hard on the surface and people easily gravitade towards him and conenct easily with him or want to befriend him and if there would be the chance (empathizing intercepted houses again), that he has intercepted houses I believe it might be because he has Taurus-Scorpio and Gemini-Sagittarius intercepted.  Really wild guess here, but, u know, what are the odds. 

Aquarius rising: This comes back to my theory with being viewed as more detached and unpersonal compared to others while still being really adored and popular: With an Aquarius Ascendant he’d preferably has a MC in Scorpio which can make for naturally very very magnetic personalities (and private as well!). Leo would be in the 7th, meaning that this native attracts and subconsciously feels drawn to people with grande personalities, with a more expressive emotional nature than they themself. This can also point to people who can give them a high amount of praise and valuing loyal and protective connections with others. Having a Taurus IC usually gives someone a grounded and collected character, since a Taurus IC can hint to a (at least pyhsically) secure upringing and thus leaving less insecurities on the materialistic side, but usually a craving for emotional depth and expansion. And again, his Venus and Mars conjunction would be in the 11th, another indicator for making and gaining easily friends and attention, also points to desiring fun and intellectual expansion in the world and at best with others together, usually an indicator of loving the journey more in retrosepctive when achieving a goal or looking back at their path.  Another thought of mind was Virgo rising but simply because of the way he looks. Winwin does have a very youthful and very elven/fairy like appereance, and with his Scorpio Mercury in the 3rd (preferably) as the ruler it would add to his behaviour, he is social after all but much more composed compared to members that are very ‘in your face’. This would also somber his Gemini MC, but still give him a very open minded and welcoming mindset towards other people, ideas, activities, etc. due to a Sagittarius IC. Also: this would set his Virgo Moon in the 1st house, which literally would explain his rather ‘detached’ nature compared to other Scorpios (looking at Yuta here, but he has a Scorpio stellium so not the best example). 

That would be my hot takes here, and again, anyone can join the conversation and share their thoughts and opinions!

[curupiracue]

My, What a Mental World!

“Do you want to drink something?”

This caused her to drink the juice.

“We're investigating a serial killer.”

This caused her to spit the juice.

“What a waste of juice.” Novalue pointed out “and we're not investigating a serial killer, we're investigating what might be a serial killer.”

“meeew. There's not such thing as a serial killer. Hence, if we're investigating what might be a serial killer, we're investigating a serial killer.”

Of course, this was senseless even by the point of view I was suggesting it from, however I only realised it as such after I said it, or, by the point I would be unwilling to admit it as such, the event horizon of knowledge's utility.

Well, it would do for a nice debate, at least.

Unfortunately, he seemed to think differently.

“Yeah, now that you mention it, it sure is. But let's move on.” Obviously a lie to avoid a discussion. I pouted and used about every body language sign I could think of to tell him that he would be the one doing the "moving on".

He didn't fail to notice them, and as a response, grimaced. Which wasn't a complaint, but rather "fuck you" in body language.

“We called you here, in specific, because you seemed to know almost everyone in this city” fucking social butterflies “With that said... do you recognize this man?” He said, pulling a photo of three youngsters from his pocket and indicating one of them with his finger. I also had a copy of the photo on my pocket, just in case I had to do the whole speech. I mean, it would be pretty anticlimactic to say: "do you recognize this man?" while your partner pulls the photo. Unique though... I might write a story like that.

But, I digress.

“No I don't.” she answered, calmly, if warily “But what is this all about?”

“Judging by the photo's state, as well as some other details, it was taken only a few years back. And yet, no other records of him remain in this world, both physical and mental.”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

My name is Novalue. Novalue Nodae-mue. The man, well, brat, accompanying me was Nim Hprtymesa. Well, I suppose you could say that I was the one accompanying him, but that’s not relevant. He had amber reddish hair, the length of which would be considered too short for a girl and too long for a boy and profound, empty blue eyes that looked like they weren't thinking of anything while being deep in thought. In reality, he was probably thinking about random meaningless things, though he could certainly actually get caught deep in thought.

I remember what I first thought about them when meeting him. That they were depressing, and still in that sense, scary, but had a certain allure.

To me, that description was probably of much more value than the previous one.

He was of medium height which was quite the contrast with his child-like face. In fact it was easy to forget that he was technically higher than me. But, maybe I just thought his face looked childish because of his effeminate appearance, with his slender body and long nails polished blue. Not to mention his face wasn't the only childish thing about him... He hurried into becoming an adult and is still a child.

"A child I've bound myself into", I think. Well, the phrasing is a bit incorrect, since that is not something I choose, but it never is, so I hardly have a care.

We were traveling… for, complicated reasons, I guess. Summing it up, we could travel without problems, and the reason we could do so was also the cause of us wanting to.

...That’s just how I’d simplify it. Nim would just say he wants to become a god and I’m following, but that would be a lie.

Well… not a complete lie. Most people wouldn’t care for the specifics, anyway.

We found that photo a few weeks ago, and by sheer coincidence one of the people featured on it was around to comment:

“That’s odd. I don’t remember taking that photo… But since I don’t look that younger, I guess I must have done it a few years back? Aww man… I hope age isn’t catching up with my memory…”

The moment they said these words, Nim’s intuition flared up:

“Is it just me, or…?” He asked me.

It was from that hunch that we decided to further investigate it, and thus found no registry of anyone that looked like the person in the photo.

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

And no registry means NO registry, in case you’re wondering. Even searching through the memories present in the mental world of the other two people on that photo didn’t wield any results… there were also signs of repeated memory wiping on their minds, but that wasn’t particularly concerning. In this world, if you want something, it’s best to just use psychic powers, and crime is rampant… if you are to rob someone, you can just beat them in a duel inside the mental world to gain access to their mind and promptly erase the last few minutes. Really, it’s an everyday occurrence for weaklings.

What WAS concerning, and also interesting, very, very much interesting, was that those scars were subtle. The level of expertise, and thus power, of the psychic who did that had to be monstrous, even if they were using a construction for it… I’m not even sure if great old me could pull it off!

And now, we’ve all but confirmed something else: it’s hard to be sure when we lack so much information due to the erasures, but it seems that even people who only knew them a bit, say, just their face or name, had also forgotten about them. Because that’s the ninth social butterfly we’ve interrogated already, and none of them knew about the little unperson.

Not just that, this city… I could intuitively feel it the moment I entered here, but further analysis proved it: it has a MASSIVE ratio of memory wiping. On average, maybe five years’ worth of memories, both conscious and subconscious were lost by person. Yet… nobody realised anything. There were some contradictions and suspicious lack of data on the records, true, but nothing that eye-glaring… most detectives, even psychics, wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

That’s where I enter! Not because I want to help, mind you… but because it’s interesting and helpful to ME.

And now, back to the present…

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

“Well, guess ya’ don’t know anything. Actually, something. Not knowing anything is like, tabula rasa and shit.”

She seemed weirded out. Or rather, probably annoyed. Or rather, she was like that from the beginning…? Probably Nim’s intention.

“Well… glad to be of service, I guess… Though, mind if I ask a question?”

“Sure.” I replied in the split second that Nim gave me before he would, undoubtedly, say “no”.

“Why is he dressed up like that?” She asked, pointing at Nim, and referencing the borderline Fairy Kei outfit. “Isn’t that too garish and colourful?”

“For boys, she refrained from adding” Nim stealthily told me telepathically.

“Hmmm… Sorry, I’ll answer that in a sec. First, I just need to know: Novalue, are you going to drink any more cherry juice?”

“No, I won’t.”

“Ausgezeichnet!”

He then promptly picked up my glass of cherry juice with one hand, his glass of orange juice with his other hand and threw it over her white shirt.

“...!? What the-?!”

“See? All colourful now~”

She tried to reach for him from the other side of the table, but promptly got body paralyzed and fell down face-first on it instead.

“Gee, why are you so mad? Oh, momento… Must be ‘cause you’re lacking some colours! Welp, here!” he took her glass and spilled it bit by bit on her back.

At this point, I decided to take action.

“Honestly, Nim… We already got what we came here for. Just wipe the last 15 min-”

“13 minutes and 40 something seconds, actually”

“...I don’t care. Just wipe those memories so that the serial killer won’t find any traces of an investigation and let’s go.”

“Aaah… Fine.” Nim looked half disappointed, and half satisfied by my intervention. “My pride is wounded, thooough~” He faked some dramatic sobbing while we walked away.

“If it makes you shut up, you look cute.”

“Uh, if it’s about making me shut up, then that isn’t really sincere, is it…?”

“Well then, you look cute.”

“So… um, uh, moving on. What do you conclude from the interview, as well as the ones that preceded it, Captain Hastings?”

“Well… Can’t think of anything other than a serial killer. Not just the fact that we can’t find the person, but also the sheer magnitude of it… Not any point in doing that much work if you’re not commiting a crime of similar proportion. Which suggests murder.”

“Yeah.” he agreed, a bit more serious, while placing his hand on his chin “It could be something related to economical, or political reasons, but… Not only does the victim on the photo look pretty ordinary, the amount of scars suggests that there was just too many of these murders happening, in too quick a succession… It’s not only strange to have that many rivals to kill, it’s too difficult to pull off. There’s obviously much more data to be erased about a big shot jerk than there is about some random moron. Not to mention, companies and the government don’t really have access to such powerful psychics. The best among us are just like me: grand, lofty and intellectual loners more interested on their own affairs and somewhat disconnected from reality. Not really soldier material, but it does fit in with a serial killer, or maybe even a spree killer. Not to mention we can just instantly get what we want without the need to work to someone… all in all, it does seem like the objective of the murders is simple psychological gratification.”

“You still owe me that answer: why do you want to investigate this in the first place? You never liked detective work, differently from her.” Novalue pointed out, rather wisely using a pronoun instead of the name of that person so disgraceful, even her name shared her repulsiveness.

“Huh!? It should be obvious, shouldn’t it? I want to…” I paused and placed a hand on my chest while throwing my other arm onto the air dramatically “Interview a serial killer!”

“...Should have guessed it…”

“Hmmm~ Wonder what kinda’ person they are~?”

“Well… They must be pretty messed up, right?”

[blossattic]

I feel pretty, unpretty (C side)

✦ Ignis Scientia x Carmen Mirabile (~) . : Word count: 878 . : Warnings: SFW. Hurt/Comfort with some Fluff. Self esteem issues. Original Character.

Summary: Carmen is more than used to makeup. She loves it. However, insecurities can make her doubt about it and herself. Am I pretty or unpretty in his eyes?

[Honey’s side] ~

▶ Get in the mood.

Moisturizer, primer, foundation, concealer, powder, eyeshadow, mascara. Stop.

This was a practiced routine, done by years now. A relaxing activity she enjoyed with passion. It was a form of art, something that made her feel good! Why was it so different today?

Violet eyes stared at her reflection on the mirror. She still had to apply mascara on her other eye, and line her lips, and add the lipstick. What shade today? Don’t forget the blush...

“I do not use blush.”

Even her voice sounded off, distant and unpersonal. It was as strange at the person she saw at the other side. Too doll like, too perfect. Maybe it was the product but her eyes were watering some already.

“Darling, we must hurry. The reservation is due to a couple of minutes- Are you alright?”

The new face in the mirror was one she knew too well by now too, but he didn’t have a thing on to make him look so attractive. So handsome and elegant. His lashes were long and fanned out around beautiful eyes. His face had the perfect structure to prescind from any contour, and without any foundation on the imperfections on his skin and other beauty marks that so appealed to her were there, on display.

Carmen looked down, suddenly overwhelmed, her lips pressed together on a tight line. She felt the gentle pressure of his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down to try and soothe her uneasiness, not really knowing what was happening. 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she put aside the tube of mascara and looked up once more.

“Can I appeal to your complete sincerity and honest word?”

Ignis looked right back at her throught the mirror, face a perfect serious mask that made her shoulders relax. A nod and she imitated him, gathering the courage.

“Do you find me attractive only when I wear makeup? Because I feel unpretty right now.”

It was like facing one’s biggest fear head on. She could be trembling some, imperceptibly so, as her gaze did. Her admission, even carrying bravery, shown some vulnerability too. Like letting go of a heavy rock but anticipating the harsh pull and subsecuencial drag, Carmen waited for his reply with patience and blooming apprehension.

Ignis looked at her for a good half minute, eyes roaming all over her face before fixing his spectacles. A well practiced move for when he collected his thoughts in order. Once his hand went to locate the makeup remover wipes, Carmen felt her chest constrict with dejection. He only asked her to stay put as she was but with closed eyes, a simple request delivered with a neutral tone that didn’t give much away. 

He only started once she complied to his indications, and once one of her slightly cold hands was wrapped by one of his, gently but firmly. Ignis didn’t have to do much to her clipped hair to run the soft cloth over one cheek and down to her chin, then a part of her forehead, over one eyelid, carefully as to not irritate the delicate skin, and finally half her lips. By the time he was done and asked her to open her eyes, Carmen was aware of his intentions and the mirror shown her intuition was not wrong.

Half her face was bare, half her face was done.

“I’ve seen you in both moments, my dear. With a clean face and with your most dramatic look. My affections and love for you don’t meassure on how many layers of cosmetics you have on your face. What matters the most is the one underneath it all.”

A pause, and he took her free hand to take it to his lips. A delicate kiss over her knuckles and the most sincere and loving gaze was being thrown her way once more.

“A work of art shows itself in many representations and styles, and each one continues to be beautiful on his own unique way- You surprise me everyday with how makeup flatters you and presents you in different ways, yet you manage to steal my breath away all the same when you don’t have it.”

Maybe it wasn’t the product because her eyes kept stinging, but finally tears were shed, one crystal clear and the other dark grey, hurrying alone the curves of her cheeks and having their path crooked over the emotive smile she held. 

Carmen even chuckled and smiled even bigger after Ignis held her more securely in his arms, smiling lips kissing her temple.

Grateful and giddy inside after hearing his opinion on the matter, Carmen felt as Aphrodite herself was winking at her through the mirror, a pink misty haze with sparkles covering them... One that disipated when his phone alarm began buzzing.

“Now, do you mind deciding which side of you will accompany me for supper?”

Maybe it was the sonority of his voice, the way he said it so good heartily that had her booping him in the nose with a fake hurt expression.

“Good grace, take it all off. I’m crying and ruining it all already!”

That challenge of doing your makeup in 5 minutes or so was one she had yet to achieve. And in the car? Added dare.

I feel pretty. Oh so pretty! I feel pretty and witty and bright... And I pity, any girl who isn't me tonight~ ♪

[rubyleaf]

Heya! I havent yet started to read your original novel, but I will as soon as I get more free-time, sounds so interesting! So I have a little request: could you maybe post here a summary of all the characters thus far? Or if you have one already, link it?

Oh my, I’m happy to hear that! Can’t wait for you to check it out, hope you’ll like it! (No rush though…) Ah, a summary of the characters? That’s a curious request, but I’m happy to oblige! Let’s try to keep this quick and spoiler-free…

Cast in order of importance (so far):

Mercury Day: The protag, a starting freshman in high school and only daughter of a Light Mage father and Dark Mage mother. Grew up knowing about their magic but assuming there was no room for magic between Light and Dark and therefore not knowing about her own powers. Extremely shy and afraid of human interaction and attention; will go to any lengths to avoid both, including life-threatening risks. Virtually fearless in the face of anything but people. Has an overactive imagination.

Raoul Warden: The not-at-all-brooding love interest. Grew up in a family of Twilit Mages and a natural at using his powers. Friendly, cheerful and easygoing, kind of a class clown. Not stupid per se, but extremely book-dumb and tends to forget words. Nicknamer if there ever was one. Befriends Mercury at their first meeting and only ever hangs out with her, even though he seems like the type who’d be popular.

Georgiana DeVille: Mercury and Raoul’s classmate. A Dark Mage girl who was adopted by the head of a well-known family at an early age. Very smart, humble, skilled at magic, loves to read and talks like a book. No social skills or interest. Hates everything to do with the Light Mages and fell for some plausible-sounding conspiracy theories. Thinks letting Mercury and Raoul into a Dark Mage school was a mistake, which she constantly lets them know.

Sullivan Blake: Principal of Andromeda School of Dark Magic. A man in his sixties who looks, dresses and acts like the hero of an old-school action movie. Friendly, witty and casual, prone to bending the rules. Lets Mercury and Raoul into his school because there ain’t no rule and there are no schools or communities specifically for Twilit Mages. Might know more than he lets on.

Regina Day: Mercury’s mother, a former Dark Mage who was exiled and made an unperson by her community when she decided to marry her current husband. Currently a hospital surgeon. A friendly, approachable, intelligent woman and more playful and daring than her husband.

Gabriel Day: Mercury’s father, an exiled Light Mage who suffered the same fate as his wife. More quiet and serious than Regina, as well as more careful and a bit of a worry-wart. Owns a flower shop with flowers that may or may not be enchanted.

Hecate Solstice: Magical theory teacher. A cold, intimidating woman who glares at everyone she meets and always has a military air to her. Seems to have it in for Mercury for some reason. Dubbed “Ms. Soulless” and “demon” by Raoul. Her appearance indicates that she may indeed not be entirely human.

Bonnie: The school nurse, an easygoing thirtysomething who gets along well with the students. Friendly and snarky with a sense of humor, the cool adult friend type. Seems to never sleep, ever. Full name and details still unknown.

Damian Salvatore: English and telekinetics teacher. A pretty chill guy and one of the few people who don’t judge Mercury or Raoul for any aspects of their personalities, their origins, skills, or anything they did so far.

Alexandria Cole: Paranormal biology teacher. The brash gym teacher type, uses some bad language but competent nonetheless. Rough around the edges and strict; has a dark sense of humor.

Turner: One owner of the magical bookstore Paige & Turner that he runs with his sister. A scruffy middle-aged man who’s always cranky but helps anyway, is always cold, and smuggles cats onto the job even though he’s not allowed.

Nero: Tall, serious, looming man in shades who seems to have some kind of connection to Sullivan Blake. Details unknown.

I think that’s it… You will still meet more people as the story goes on though! Thanks for asking!

[cabiba]

How the Left Is Winning The Internet War

Hello.

The news of Millennial Woes permanent suspension from Twitter was met with a sense of inevitability as it made its way across social media earlier this month. It seems Woes had angered the Twitter Gods one too many times and was subsequently punished by way of ‘unpersoning’.

This Stalinist approach to silencing dissident views has become the method of execution for the overtly left-leaning big-tech companies. Users of social media platforms who identify as anywhere on the right of the political spectrum are at constant risk of being sent to the digital gulags for the crime of having the ‘wrong’ opinions.

In the case of Woes, the prominent Alt-right commentator was found guilty of having the audacity to state a widely accepted, albeit inconvenient fact about the disproportionate rate of black crime. Therefore, according to Twitter logic, Woes had broken one, or possibly many of their deliberately vague rules, resulting in his lifetime ban.

Of course no rules had actually been broken. Even the most generous interpretation of Twitter policy would fail to convict Woes of any particular crime. Instead, it’s the nature of his views that are the problem. Specifically the facts of the reality of race. It would seem that truth itself is of no defense.

Woes is merely the latest victim of an ongoing purge of prominent figures on the right. The cabal of silicon valley companies which dominate the online world are becoming increasingly brazen in their contempt for those who oppose the lies of cultural Marxism.

The recent chilling de-platforming of the popular Alex Jones was not just an obvious widespread coordinated attack, but also a show of strength intended to intimidate and deter others from attempting to offer an alternative narrative to the anti-white globalist agenda.

This is why hypocrisy is of no concern to the left. While they claim to be undertaking a virtuous campaign to outlaw so-called ‘hate speech’ from their platform, it is instead a simple ruse to attack anyone on the right side of the cultural divide. Because when it comes to the ‘progressive’ left, Twitter conveniently turns a blind eye.

A simple search on Twitter will reveal an avalanche of explicitly anti-white vitriol flowing inhibited. Shocking in both its degree of astonishing hate and by its propagation by blue checked verified users. Not only do these debased attacks go unpunished, a user was recently unceremoniously banned for attempting to catalogue some of Twitter’s worst offenders.

In spite of the success of Trump, Brexit and the rise of various nationalist movements in Europe, the Alt-right was typically slow in its response to the news of Woes disappearance. While no favours should be expected from the Paul Joseph Watson’s of the world, the Woes incident has highlighted the lack of cohesion and solidarity within the Alt-right’s own ranks.

And how long will it be before the likes of Mike Cernovich or anyone else in the Alt-lite, civic-nationalist circles begin to be ‘unpersoned’ and have their online presence slowly reduced. They are fools if they think that they will be spared a similar fate to that of Woes.

All this begs the question, can the Alt-right secure itself a safe place on the internet? Without this, the movement is in real danger of being snuffed out. Needless to say, the left is more than aware of this and is exercising its considerable strength in both the private and public sectors.

As Facebook, YouTube and Apple continue to crack down on right-wing ‘hate speech’, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that there is a lack of credible alternative media platforms. No matter how commendable sites such as GAB appear to be, the existing social media outlets are so overwhelmingly powerful and pervasive as to make every other option redundant.

Naturally, this has led to the argument that social networking sites such as Facebook and Google+ should be viewed as public utilities and therefore, be regulated by the government. This could prevent the leftist bias that currently prevents right-wing views from being given an honest hearing.

Unfortunately the state provides no comfort when it comes to protecting free speech. The UK’s Metropolitan Police currently employs a frighteningly Orwellian approach to so-called ‘hate speech’ laws. They state that a hate crime is “a crime which is perceived to be motivated by prejudice”. Of course, the operative word being ‘perceived’.

Even more worrying is their inclusion of “non-crime hate incidents”. These are described as “offensive and insulting comments” which can be made “online, in person or in writing”. Once again, we are left with the problem of perception and the inclination that, like the social media companies, these will be used almost exclusively against the right.

But if we can secure our voice online, we can ensure victory in the real world. While the prospect of a major political party running on a Alt-right ticket seems fanciful at present, the triumphs of Trump and Brexit indicate the growing popularity of civic-nationalism, which itself, is a digestible gateway drug into the world of race realism and white advocacy.

And, at the risk of over optimism, it seems as though these attempts to kill the Alt-right carry with them the distinct scent of doomed failure. There is a sense that this explosion of globalist rhetoric about white guilt and the western patriarchy is merely the deathly outpouring of venom from a desperate enemy on the irreversible retreat?

For history has shown us the power of ethno-nationalism, for better and for worse. And time will reveal to us a future shaped by its necessary resurgence. For cultural Marxism’s attempt to socially condition western man to hate oneself and accept his demise, will awaken and bind the deep spiritual ties found in our shared cultural and ancestral heritage.

Until then, the de-platforming will continue and the struggle to have our voice heard will remain. While this vicious push back from the left will undoubtedly yield more victims, it can solidify the movement and unite the more disparate elements into one collaborative force. For now is not the time for in-fighting.

Somewhere, Woes is sitting in a darkened room, face slightly lit by the glare of a computer screen. Dressing gown on, cigarette in hand, he contemplates his next move. He may well conclude that, after all, his recent trouble is a small battle lost in a larger war he can still help to win.

Thank you for reading.

#FreeWoes