#but in an informative sense: there's 2 horizontal times scenes and the rest is not E

[messrsrarchives]

Hello! I have an inquiry regarding your fanfic ‘one single thread of gold’. I see that it is marked ‘explicit’ so would you say it is 18+? It looks lovely but as I’m 17 I would hate to disregard any boundaries you have around that. I hope you’ve had a magnificent start of the new year!

HI !!! this is such a respectful thing to ask omg hello

uhmmm so there's like,,, one explicit scene in chapter 1. and then the rest is fineeeee and then later on there will be one implied/imagery vibe explicit stuff??? but beyond those two scenes there's nothing else E in the fic and those are either already marked in the AN or will be when i post :D

i'm very aware that by posting things online i can't monitor who sees what, so the tags are there and CW are in each chapter as like a "hey! this is in this!" which is really all i can do on my side, then it's just down to hoping people know what they're doing.

but my baseline is like,,, i'm not anyone's parent or guardian, and by tagging it i've done my part. i can't limit it much further, even with a MDNI, minors will infact I. all i really ask is that anyone under 18 doesn't like,,, talk to me about the scenes. because that's uncomfortable for the both of us.

HAPPY NEW YEAR HI I EXPLAINED THIS SO BADLY I AM NOT ELOQUENT OVER TEXT

[eggtoasties]

Chapter One: I. Allegro

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Kuroo used to think the best sound in the world was a volleyball hitting the court on the other side of the net. Now, he has other things on his repertoire.

Counter point: Good counterpoint requires two qualities: (1) a meaningful or harmonious relationship between the lines (a “vertical” consideration—i.e., dealing with harmony) and (2) some degree of independence or individuality within the lines themselves (a “horizontal” consideration, dealing with melody).

It was illogical really, Kuroo thought to himself, having to take a mandatory arts class. He was an athlete. He would probably major in STEM or business the next year if he didn’t go pro. But here he was, staring at the course catalogue, deciding between different bands, choirs, art classes, and orchestra. Irritatingly, Kenma had finished his arts requirement last year, taking a video editing class which Kuroo thought was definitely cheating since he figured Kenma already knew the basics. Plus, he not-so-secretly believed that Kenma would benefit from another non-electronic hobby.

Sighing, he assessed each class. He knew he was tone deaf and did not want others listening to him sing. Plus, he’s seen the red cummerbunds and bow ties the choir had to wear for concerts and refused to give his teammates the blackmail fodder even if Yaku thought it looked “refined.”

To be honest, Kuroo didn’t know much about the arts. He only had the vaguest understanding of the differences between Watercolor 101, Figure drawing 101, and Oil Painting 101. While he thought of himself in the studio, palette in hand with an apron tied around him, working intently at the easel on the next generational masterpiece, he remembered when Kenma threw his pencil-drawn mockups of promotional posters in the trash and told him not to show the rest of the team.

While maybe he could try digital media, he couldn’t help but imagine himself against the romanticized backdrop of more traditional arts.

He had to choose between the several band electives and orchestra. He couldn’t do marching band—he wouldn’t be caught dead in those uniforms, wind ensemble had auditions he surely wouldn’t pass, jazz band had mandatory solos, but symphonic band was for rookies. ‘Beginners welcome,’ was typed out with an asterisk under the listing. But, so did orchestra. Doing a quick search to figure out the difference between band and orchestra, Kuroo weighed his options.

He took piano lessons from ages four through ten before finally convincing his parents to let him quit—wearing them down by crying every week and throwing a mini tantrum at daily practice—not that he intentionally did it as an elementary school student. But, even from an early age, he knew volleyball was it for him.

While he wasn’t well acquainted with classical music, he had grown up with it from his parents. Well, when they were irritated with the bickering matches between him and his older sister, their parents would crank up the car radio, drowning their yelling. His mom would tell him she used to play Mozart for him when he was a baby which is why he grew so tall—which he would always say makes no sense—and occasionally, a film score would make the hairs on his arms rise even when he was trying to focus on the scene.

So he decided. He’d enroll in orchestra for the year, make himself unnoticeable in the back, and fulfill his arts requirement so he could graduate high school and maybe apply to university. Plus, he figured, as he ticked the box next to orchestra, he’d finally be able to wear his suit his parents bought him, saying that he’d need it eventually.

Folding the course registration paper and sliding it into an envelope to be sent to Nekoma High, he stood up from his seat at the low dining room table and decided to go to Kenma’s, figuring they could squeeze some volleyball practice before summer vacation ended.

.

The first day of his third year was unextraordinary. He woke up tired, coaxed his bed head into something manageable, and started his commute to school, picking Kenma up on the way. Double and triple checking his course schedule on his phone and reminding his teammates that they all had to help out in advertising the volleyball club—well, maybe except Yaku—he tapped his toes with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

His classes were nothing special, most of them a continuation of the year before or courses he carefully picked with the advice of his seniors. But, walking towards the orchestra room at the far side of the building where all the music classes were, he felt a familiar rush of nervous adrenaline spike—not unlike the nerves before a big match. But this time, he couldn’t be confident in his own skills or rely on a team to back him up. Counting the room numbers until it matched the one on his registration, he found the room with its double doors propped open.

Striding in, the large open space was in various states of organized chaos. Other students were already moving chairs in uniform columns, two to a row, and were pulling instruments out of cases. Unsure of what to do, he immediately found the teacher.

“Hi Jouda-sensei, I’m Kuroo Tetsuro,” he introduced. “I’m new—where should I sit?”

“Hi Tetsuro-kun, it’s nice to meet you,” she said warmly. “Ah, yes I see you enrolled as a beginner.” Flipping through the pages on her clipboard she hummed, “Is there a particular instrument you’d like to play?” sweeping a hand across the room. “We could always use more violas, we have enough cellos, weirdly too many basses, but we could also stick you with the second violins?”

Kuroo didn’t quite know the difference between violas and violins but figured ‘second’ violins implied that there was also a ‘first’ violins group and that he’d be more likely to be able to hide in the back in a bigger group.

“Yeah,” he drawled out confidently, “I actually wanted to learn violin.”

“Okay, perfect. Here—” she motioned another student over. “Tetsuro-kun, meet Daisuke-kun.” Daisuke greeted Kuroo with a shallow bow and Kuroo responded with a head nod, mentally rolling his eyes at Daisuke’s subtle disapproval.

“He’s first chair of the second violins,” Jouda-sensei continued, “he’ll get you set up. Daisuke-kun, have him take one of the rentals and teach him the ropes. Today’s mostly getting people set up if they don’t have their own instruments and playing through potential setlists,” she explained while twirling her pen in her right hand. “Testsuro-kun, you’re our only new violin which means everyone can help you learn—take today to be comfortable with an instrument in your hands and observe your classmates!” she finished, walking away.

“I’m Sato Daisuke, a second year,” Daisuke reintroduced, emphasizing his year.

“Kuroo Tetsuro, third year,” he said smugly.

“Ah—okay,” Daisuke said standing straighter, “Kuroo-san, follow me,” turning towards the back of the room.

Chuckling Kuroo said, “Just Kuroo’s fine—you’re technically my senior here since I’ve never played violin before.”

Stuttering a bit and covering it with a cough, Daisuke nodded once. He stood in front of a wall of neatly labelled cubbies and pulling a black rectangular case out, he handed it to Kuroo. Explaining the rules of the rental and making him sign a form, Daisuke taught Kuroo how to properly tighten the bow, use rosin, clean the instrument, and taught him simple exercises to practice posture.

Fiddling a bit with the shoulder rest as Daisuke excused himself for a second, Kuroo ran through the exercises to get himself acquainted with the feel of the violin under his chin and a bow in his right hand. It was uncomfortable, he noted. His left shoulder wanted to scrunch up towards his face, his left wrist wanted to press towards the neck of the violin, and he couldn’t comfortably hold his bow. For the first time in a while, Kuroo felt out of his element—he felt as though his body couldn’t do what he wanted it to do. He felt awkward and unsure and the back of his neck prickled as he caught other students look his way.

Finally, Daisuke came back. Holding a thin blue book in his hand he explained, “This’ll teach you the basics of reading music. The thickest string on the left is G, followed by D, A, and E. Notes go in order of A through G and it just repeats.” Making sure Kuroo was following along, he continued. “So, If we start on the G string and put a finger down,” he moved over to place Kuroo’s index finger on the first tape, “what note is this?”

“A?”

“Yup, great. Follow the tapes for where you should put your fingers, I taught you how to tune and you need to study and practice every night so you’ll be able to partially follow along in class.”

Head a little dizzy with the new information but also proud to have understood some of the basics, Kuroo nodded. Daisuke took Kuroo to the back of the group, explained to a student who Kuroo was, then took his place towards the front.

Kuroo’s stand partner was a first year—Hayato. He’d been doing orchestra since middle school, didn’t take private lessons like many of the other students, but enjoyed orchestra enough to continue in high school as a hobby. Although a little awkward, Hayato was patient when giving Kuroo a more detailed explanation of reading music, since six years of piano lessons had completely left him, and set him up with basic exercises.

“You need to make sure your left wrist is down and relaxed,” Hayato said, tapping a pencil to Kuroo’s inner wrist. “Also, your bow grip is atrocious, but that’s one of the hardest things for a beginner.” He showed Kuroo how the bow was supposed to be held, stressing how it should look relaxed and curved.

Making small adjustments while Kuroo shakily moved the bow across the strings, Hayato said, “Sensei will probably have you come during study hall to practice, but you need to practice at home too or Sato-san and the concertmaster will probably chew you out.”

Bow stuttering crookedly across the strings, making Sato tut at him, Kuroo paused. “The concertmaster,” he asked disbelievingly. “What is that?” imagining some despotic conductor in long tuxedo trails and a clipboard.

Laughing at his confusion, Hayato explained. “The concertmaster is the first chair violinist. In orchestra they’re like the leader of the group. They tune the group, come out second to last before the conductor during concerts, make decisions on bowings, and everyone kinda follows their lead.”

Nodding to himself Kuroo said, “Okay, so he’s like,” he trailed off, “the captain of the team?”

“Exactly. Except she’s a third year like you and pretty well known in the music scene in our area, y’know.”

Frowning at his assumption he admitted, “Ah, okay so,” he trailed off, “concertmistress? I play volleyball, I don’t really know music.”

Hayato laughed and Kuroo raised a brow. “I mean obviously—you don’t really look like a violinist.”

Affronted Kuroo said, “Oi, what does that mean?”

“Kuroo-san, you’re like, huge,” Hayato squeaked out.

Trying not to preen, Kuroo waved his hand and turned his head towards the front of the class.

Jouda-sensei stood on her podium and tapped her baton on the raised stand in front of her. “Hi everyone, good to see all of you again. We have a few new faces so make sure to welcome them and help them out. I’m super excited for our potential set list this year, but before I pass out the folders, let’s a hear a few words from our concertmistress!”

With scattered applause and stomping, a girl rose to the podium as Jouda-sensei stepped off. Holding her violin and bow in her left hand she beamed at the class. Briefly introducing herself and sharing her excitement for the year to make music with everyone, Jouda-sensei interrupted her return to her seat.

“For the first rehearsal, how about you formally tune us?” Jouda-sensei offered.

“Aw, no it’s okay—some people are beginners and all the section leaders already took care of it right?”

Next to her, her stand partner threw an eraser at the podium making her scowl. “Just do it, her stand partner complained,” drawing laughter from the class.

Giving her partner the finger, hidden from their sensei’s view, she laughed good naturedly and straightened her shoulders.

All of a sudden, Kuroo noted, the atmosphere in the room changed. Students were no longer whispering to each other, playing random tunes, or shuffling in their seats. Everyone’s eyes were on her at the podium. She offered an open palm and nodded towards the back of the room. A single note penetrated the silence.

She swept her hand towards the back and Kuroo was suddenly flooded with the sound of the deep and rich brass section. After a few seconds, she repeated the process and the woodwind instruments close to Kuroo in the back began to tune.

Hayato leaned towards Kuroo. “Before concerts and rehearsals everyone should’ve tuned beforehand. This more for last minute checks and also a show for the audience. The order and how many sections tune at once is usually decided between the concertmaster and the conductor—Kuroo-san, we’ll tune last.”

Nodding in appreciation, Kuroo turned his attention back to the podium. The woodwinds trailed off and after a beat of silence, she nodded once again for the tuning note to be played and she waved her hand towards the cellos and basses at her right. The gravelly resonance of the strings filled Kuroo with a strange sense of full contentment and marveled at the size of the basses, whose strings seemed to be quadruple the thickness of his own.

Finally, the concertmaster gave one last nod and tucked her violin under her chin. Hearing the drone of the pitch, everyone around Kuroo began to tune. Unsure of what to do, he stumbled to mimic Hayato who was adjusting his tuners. Since Sato Daisuke already tuned his instrument, Kuroo just played open strings and waited for the rest of his section to stop. Glancing to his left at Kuroo’s right hand, Hayato whispered sharply, “Keep your pinky curved!”

.

After tuning, folders were passed out to each student, filed with sheet music. Hayato organized the sheets on their stand.

“Since you’re on the inside—the left hand side of the stand—your job is to turn my pages,” he explained. “It’ll be good practice to see if you can follow along even if you can’t read, but no worries if you want to spend today just watching and listening.”

Thanking Hayato and teasing when he fumbled in embarrassment, Kuroo spent the rest of class in awe. Although the group was seeing the pieces for the first time, he couldn’t help the goosebumps on his arms as the orchestra came together. Even when he heard Hayato miss a note, noticed when the conductor would glare at a section, or when they had to stop and regroup, listening to individual instruments try come together as one left Kuroo wanting to be a part of it. From the inside, he watched as bows moved in unison and fingers slid up and down the necks of stringed instruments. He was hyper aware of the instruments behind him providing support to the main melody, and leaned towards them to catch their individual parts.

He set his gaze towards the front of the room and watched the concertmaster. Powerful yet graceful, her bow made sure movements across the strings, fingers moving quickly and accurately. Her body swayed with the music and her face, unlike Hayato’s, was not one of extreme concentration. She seemed focused as she watched the conductor and indicated entrances to her section through her body, but despite the multi-tasking, it was clear to Kuroo that she was having fun.

She trusted her section to follow along, for her stand partner to flip the pages at the right times, and for the rest of the orchestra to do their parts. When Jouda-sensei made the class begin again, she would lean towards her stand partner and share whispered giggles and Kuroo caught the glint of shiny pink polish and traced the way her hair fell across her shoulders.

He knew what being a captain was like—he had been captain since he was voted in at the end of his second year and he wondered how long she’d been playing for, how much she practices, and how she encourages her section. He wondered what the differences and similarities were between leading a team and an orchestra were—the differences and similarities between them, even.

At the end of class Kuroo promised to himself to practice a little every day to be able to play with the group and hold his own. For the rest of the school day, he idly hummed the melodies they had played in class and replayed images of bows and hands moving in unison.

.

In the club room before practice, Kuroo came in with his violin case. Greeting his teammates, he started to change.

Loosening his tie and pulling his sweater over his head, Kuroo heard Lev ask about his case. Swapping his school top for his practice one, Kenma responded.

“Kuroo’s taking orchestra for his arts credit.”

“Why would you take a band credit, you should’ve taken sculpture like I did,” Yamamoto exclaimed proudly.

“Your sculptures were ugly,” Kenma said evenly, over the sounds of his video game.

Before Yamamoto could respond, Fukunaga menacingly shook his water bottle at the two of them causing Kenma to turn his back and hunch defensively over his game.

Narrowing his eyes at Kenma, Yamamoto turned his attention back to Kuroo who was idly flipping through the practice book Daisuke had given him.

“Yeah Kuroo, band classes are so much work when you’ve gotta learn the instrument, why’d you enroll?”

Before Kuroo could respond Yaku jumped to Yamamoto’s side and jabbed him. “Band and orchestra are two different things you uncultured swine!”

Doubled over and grasping his stomach, Yamamoto glared tearfully at his senior, then directed his glare towards Lev who was slapping his knee in laughter.

“Kuroo-san,” Lev shouted, “can you play us something?” he asked excitedly.

Gaining the interest of the rest of the team, everyone crowded around Kuroo, nodding in unison. He rubbed the back of his head in uncertainty.

“I’ve literally just learned how to play. I don’t know if you’d really want me to.”

“We really want you to!” Lev said, encouraging him to open his case.

Begrudgingly, Kuroo went to his violin and briefly explained how to setup and tune, to the amazement of some of his teammates. Even Kenma peered curiously over his video game in the corner. He tucked the instrument under his chin, carefully held his bow and placed the hair on the A string and played. Kuroo focused intently on ensuring that his bow grip was loose, but secure, that his pinky and thumb were curved and that his bow was making straight lines across the string.

As Kuroo looked over to his teammates, he noticed Yaku’s shoulders starting to shake while he pointed a finger at him.

“I-Is that the best you can do?” Yaku nearly screamed, howling in laughter. “You’re not even moving your f-fingers!”

To Kuroo’s embarrassment, the rest of the team tried desperately to hold in their laughter and Lev deadpanned, “That kinda sucked, senpai.”

Stuttering out an indignant scoff, Kuroo’s brow furrowed, “I told you I just learned this today! A-and posture is important you heathens!” shaking his bow at Lev and Yaku.

[hungrytundras]

Lightweaver’s Domain Scene Edit

I wanted to make an edit of the BSJ festival scene. I’m also going to walk everyone through my thought process in doing this. I used a pretty low res image to start and only painted over it in a single layer so it still lacks a lot of the detail of the original, but I did not want to redraw it completely from scratch for what is mostly just an experiment / proof of concept. 

So with no further fanfare: Here’s the original scene that I started with. You’re probably familiar. There are also some marks for things I went in wanting to change: 

The structures have a few perspective issues with them, but my main reason for changing them around (and ultimately doing away with them) is two fold

They stick too far out into the water in my opinion. The soil underneath them is likely fine grained and, more importantly saturated, meaning that over time, a heavy stone structure like that is going to settle a lot. If these were originally built in the second age the chances they’d still be standing in the present is slim to say the least, and even without that, keeping them nice and serviceable would require a tremendous amount of constant upkeep. 

The other big issue I have with the central structure is that it destroys the sense of scale. The size of the windows, the docks, and the trees specifically give us a pretty concrete size for everything in the background and it comes across as underwhelming at best. 

A horizontal waterline implies that the viewer is standing at or very near water level OR that the base of those cliffs is beyond the horizon. Judging from the rest of the image, neither of these is the case here. We are viewing the water from above so we should see some of the coast line’s shape. 

I personally think the waterfall is unnecessary, but if we do keep it in, it should flow with turbulence. Natural streams are usually not laminar as they go over falls and drawing them that way makes them look unnatural. 

All that said, here’s my edited version with the structure cropped back toward the cliff. Any indicators of exact size and distance are removed and the shoreline’s shape is apparent. 

This also leaves a lot of empty space in the middle of the image which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, after all, the dragon should be the main visual interest here. But, if we did want to fill in that open water, I sketched up a few options for doing so under the cut: 

Option 1: The Harbor: Gives this weird building in the middle of nowhere a purpose and allows us to set a deeper scale. Also gives us some information about the world via the shape of the ships, configuration of the docks, etc.

Option 2: Sunken Ruins: Plays into my comments earlier on the woes of building in the middle of a body of water. Also plays nicely into Light Flight’s well established ruins aesthetic. 

Option 3: Boats! Stick some little boats in there. Bonus points give them little lanterns like that one scene from Tangled you know the one. It would make room for a very interesting night time variant as well.

[gusu-emilu]

Cantatio: Chapter Three

Ship: Lan Zhan / Wei Ying (POV Lan Zhan)

Summary: Once Lan Wangji breaks curfew, there’s no going back >:)

“Lan Zhan, I think you owe us an explanation,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Mn?”

A mischievous fire blazed in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, slippery, supple.

“What were you doing in Lady Wen’s room after curfew?”

Cloud Recesses Academy AU, Rated T, TW: creepy-crawlies - read on AO3

< Ch. 2 | Ch. 4 > |  chapter list

Lan Wangji stared at the closet door. He clutched Bichen, ready to strike at the slightest movement. The tree rings in the wooden door seemed to blink back at him questioningly.

The closet had refused to open before, but if someone had really screamed inside, he needed to try again.

Lan Wangji yanked at the door with all his strength. To his surprise, it flew open and smacked the wall. The door was so light that Lan Wangji could have moved it with a finger. Why was it so easy to open now? Had someone forced it open and hidden inside?

Despite the glow from lanterns in the room and moonlight from the windows that should have illuminated the closet, its interior was pitch black.

“Show yourself,” Lan Wangji said.

Silence.

There was only one thing left to do. Lan Wangji drew in a breath, braced his muscles, and attuned every one of his senses in preparation. Bichen gave a steady quiver of approval in his grip.

He entered the closet. Its darkness swallowed him greedily.

After a few steps, Lan Wangji found himself not in front of the dusty back wall of an old closet, but beside a bed.

He was in Wen Qing’s room.

The fierce young doctor who had spoken so boldly to Clan Leader Nie was now standing on top of her bed, clutching a blanket in front of her chest and shivering. Her moonlike eyes were wide with terror, her pointed chin drawn upward, her lips in a grimace.

He was in Wen Qing’s room.

A girls’ dormitory.

Rule #7: Disturbing female cultivators is prohibited.

Lan Wangji, head disciple, had broken one of the gravest rules on his first day at the Cloud Recesses Academy, and he didn’t even know how it had happened!

Wen Qing flinched at Lan Wangji’s sudden materialization.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped.

He gaped at her with an expression that said, I have no idea.

A pulsing headache crept into his skull. He felt dizzy. He glanced around the room, which was empty except for them.

“Did someone scream?” he asked.

Wen Qing sighed and stiffened her shoulders. “Yes, that was me. It’s nothing to worry about, though. I don’t know how you got here, but you may leave.”

Lan Wangji blinked. “Why are you atop the bed?”

“Well, I was about to go to sleep, and then I found a…um…a bug in my sheets. I have entomophobia. I’m afraid of bugs.” She shook her head as she spoke, as if she refused to believe the words out of her own mouth.

A miniscule black beetle crawled on the floor next to Wen Qing’s bedframe, wriggling its scratchy legs in mild irritation.

This scene was becoming more and more absurd. Lan Wangji magically appeared in a girls' dorm room, and the cool, composed Wen Qing cowered in fear of a harmless little beetle?

Lan Wangji did the only thing that made sense in this lunacy: help the person in need. He did his best to quiet the hundreds of questions that besieged his mind as he circled around to the other side of Wen Qing’s bed. He bent down to pick up the bug.

“What are you doing?!”

“Transferring it outside.”

“Okay…” Wen Qing exhaled a long, shaky breath.

As Lan Wangji was about to guide the black and green-striped beetle into his palm, a strange bump appeared on its shelled backside. Lan Wangji paused and furrowed his brow.

“Why aren’t you picking it up? Second Young Master Lan?”

The beetle was growing. Rapidly.

“Stand back!” he bellowed.

A terrible crackling sound filled the room as the beetle’s exoskeleton swelled and crunched. Within seconds, the beetle had grown seven feet tall and four feet wide. Its stiff, crooked legs scraped across the wooden floor and reached toward the two young cultivators like the hooked weapons of a demon. Its antenna brushed the ceiling, causing sawdust to fall, and its pincers clicked menacingly.

The beetle had been possessed by a monster!

Lan Wangji unsheathed Bichen and lunged. With a strike and a mighty snap, he sliced off one of its legs. As it flailed in pain, another of the beetle’s legs hurled Lan Wangji to the other side of the room.

Having thrown off its attacker, the beetle now turned to Wen Qing.

Wen Qing had jumped off her bed and into a corner of the room. She dug her fingernails into the wall behind her, her face deathly white and her mouth wide open, too petrified to scream.

Lan Wangji struck the floor with the hilt of Bichen to draw the monster’s attention from Wen Qing. The beetle recoiled at the vibrations in the wooden panels beneath it, then pounced toward Lan Wangji, knocking over a table. Jade china shattered on the floor.

With a powerful leap, Lan Wangji flew into the air and swung his feet in front of him until his body was horizontal. He arched his back as he slipped through the space between the top of the beetle’s head and the ceiling, zipping past one thick antenna on each side of him. He landed on the beetle’s thorax.

He flipped onto his stomach and raised Bichen as energy surged into his biceps, ready to plunge the sword into the monstrous head, but the beetle reared in panic. It jerked its head upward and smacked Lan Wangji into the ceiling. His knuckles cracked against the wooden boards, and his sword was battered off course. The blade pierced the beetle’s right eye instead. Cloudy discharge spurted out of the wound. Lan Wangji tugged at Bichen, but it was stuck in the beetle’s eye socket.

The beetle gnashed its pincer and wildly shook its head. Lan Wangji slid off the beetle’s back and crashed face-first into the floor. He groaned with pain.

The fall had knocked the wind out of him. He gasped and clutched his stomach as he rolled to the side, dodging one of the beetle’s legs that nearly punctured through his torso.

Shing!

An angular white blade flashed through the air. A second blade whirred next to it.

With a thin cry and a thunderous crunch, the beetle’s body was severed in half. It toppled to the floor with a thud.

Lan Wangji looked up, still gulping air that refused to move down his throat.

Between the two chunks of beetle that oozed gunk onto the floor stood Wei Wuxian and Luo Qingyang, back-to-back in a martial stance with swords braced above their heads. A crowd of wide-eyed disciples had formed in the doorway of the dormitory. Some of them were still in their colorful clan robes, which now looked more like various shades of grey in the dark night, while others wore white undershirts, apparently having been roused out of bed by the commotion.

Wei Wuxian grinned and lowered his sword. He let his arm fall slack at his side.

“Nice one, Mianmian! I’ve never seen such a clean strike!”

“What are you talking about, I only got halfway through its body! That was you who killed it.”

“Was it really? Hey, Lan Zhan, did you have a good view of that? Did you see which one of us slayed the monster?”

Lan Wangji was still on the floor, barely comprehending the words that bounced off his dazed mind, but he was finally able to breathe again. He propped himself up with his hands, his knuckles bloody. He looked at Wei Wuxian with dizzy eyes.

“Lan Zhan, are you okay?”

“WHAT IS GOING ON?! HOW THE HELL DID A GIANT BEETLE GET IN HERE?!” Nie Mingjue yelled as he shoved disciples aside and barreled into the room.

Lan Xichen sprung in right behind him. “We came as soon as we heard! Is everyone alright?”

“Yes, everyone is safe,” said a voice above Lan Wangji. It was cool and steady as ice.

Wen Qing had appeared next to him. She stood motionless with her hands folded at her chest and her lips gently pursed. All evidence of her previous hysteria had disappeared from her face. Even her hair had been smoothed down to a silky sheen.

“Second Young Master Lan needs injuries treated, but the rest of us are well. I owe much thanks to Young Master Wei and Lady Luo. They arrived in the nick of time. I give my gratitude to Second Young Master Lan as well for a valiant fight,” she continued.

Jiang Yanli rushed into the room and embraced Wei Wuxian. “A-Xian!” she cried.

Wei Wuxian laughed and patted her back. “I’m okay, Shijie.”

“I’m so sorry we did not arrive sooner," Lan Xichen said. "We have failed you as senior disciples. All of you, you have done a spectacular job in slaying this beast. The clan leaders will be very impressed."

Luo Qingyang bowed. “Thank you, Young Master Lan.” She frowned and turned to Wen Qing. “Lady Wen, why did you tell us everything was fine after we heard you scream a few minutes ago?" It was a sparse show of concern for the enemy Wen disciple, but concern nonetheless.

“Everything was fine, until that vermin transformed into some spawn of Hell,” she said bitterly.

Lan Wangji raised his eyebrows. When he appeared in Wen Qing’s room, everything had, in fact, been far from fine. Wen Qing had been crying on top of her bed like a child, held captive as a beetle the size of a fingernail took free reign of her dormitory.

But Lan Wangji thought it would be prudent for him to omit that information.

“That’s great, but how did it get here?” said Nie Mingjue.

“I do not know,” Wen Qing answered.

Nie Mingjue glared suspiciously at Wen Qing but did not press further. Lan Xichen bent down and helped Lan Wangji to his feet.

“Can you stand?”

He nodded and stepped out of his brother’s hold.

Wei Wuxian was swinging his sword casually at his side and beaming at everyone as they spoke.

“Lan Zhan, I think you owe us an explanation,” he said.

“Mn?”

A mischievous fire blazed in Wei Wuxian’s eyes. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, slippery, supple.

“What were you doing in Lady Wen’s room after curfew?”

Lan Wangji blinked.

Lan Wangji had never been one to care if others stared at him, or judged him, or whispered about him as he walked past. He was a righteous young man. If people wanted to slander him, their words would fall upon deaf ears, incapable of bruising his ego or damaging his reputation.

But now, standing in the middle of a girls’ dormitory with his breath short and his chest throbbing, he was aware of every pair of inquiring, juvenile eyes that bore into his soul. His face was hot as a furnace.

He felt insecure.

And for some reason, the fact that it was Wei Wuxian who raised this question against him made him feel twice as insecure.

Lan Wangji fumbled for words. What explanation could he give? He didn't even know how he got there. There was nothing more to do than shoulder the blame and move on, but his voice would not function.

Eventually, it was Wen Qing who spoke. “Wei Wuxian, I think you could ask yourself a similar question. Why were you out after curfew with Lady Luo?”

“Oh, ahaha, yes.” Wei Wuxian fiddled with his earlobe. “Ummm, first I’d like to say that Lan Zhan should really be answering before me, but anyway—”

“I was giving him a present,” Luo Qingyang interrupted.

“Yes, she was!” Wei Wuxian stuck his index finger in the air, then reached into his robes and pulled out a satchel of fragrant herbs. “See, she was just thanking me for a favor I did! We didn’t have the chance to meet until late at night. A lot of the other disciples were out too—so many that we didn’t even realize it was past curfew.”

Nie Mingjue frowned and glanced over his shoulder. The fully-robed disciples in the doorway shifted uncomfortably.

“Okay, that's my story. Lan Zhan? Are you going to answer now?” Wei Wuxian said.

Lan Wangji straightened his spine. “Wangji has violated Gusu Lan Clan rules and accepts due punishment.”

“No, hold on,” Luo Qingyang said. “Clan Leader Nie, Young Master Lan, it was my fault. I invited Second Young Master Lan to give him a present, too. I wrongly insisted on having him wait in my dorm while I talked to Young Master Wei, and he was too polite to refuse. Luo Qingyang is sorry.”

Lan Wangji opened his mouth to protest this blatant lie, but before he could, Wei Wuxian made a low ‘bzzt’ sound and shot him a look of warning.

"Oh, you know what, now that I think about it? I remember that. That's exactly right," Wei Wuxian chimed.

Nie Mingjue shook his head. “You’re all halfwits. Classes haven’t even started yet, and you’re breaking rules left and right.” He whipped around to face the doorway. “What’re you all staring at? Shouldn’t you be sleeping in your dorms?!”

Like a dropped piece of jewelry that burst apart into its fragile beads, the disciples scampered away in all directions. In the frenzy, Nie Huaisang tripped on his robes and fell. He looked up guiltily at his older brother, then fled with a yelp.

“Well, Mingjue, you’re right that classes haven’t started yet,” Lan Xichen said. “Since it’s so early, let’s give everyone a pass for what happened tonight. After all, these four did slay a monster. We're lucky they're still with us.”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “It’s not like I was going to go through the trouble of telling Lan Qiren, anyway. Scaring them into behaving is good enough for now. After all, Baxia is always ready," he said as he hovered his saber in the air and glowered at the four disciples below him. But a playful levity flickered through his voice.

“…Yes.” The corners of Lan Xichen’s eyes crinkled with loving disapproval.

As the thrill of the night’s battle died down, Lan Wangji felt calmness return to his mind. However, the calmness was soon shattered by the memory of the closet door that apparently teleported him into Wen Qing’s room.

There were two things he needed to address.

“Brother. I have broken clan rules. I must—”

“Wangji, no,” Lan Xichen said.

“Tell—”

“Wangji, return to your dorm.”

“Brother—”

“Please, it’s alright. You have been pardoned. Go tend to your injuries.” He turned away. "Mingjue, let's begin cleaning the remains of this monster so these young women can go to sleep."

Lan Xichen assumed that Lan Wangji would only insist on disciplining himself. Lan Wangji did not need his brother’s permission to atone for his crimes—he would do that anyway. He wanted to talk about the closet door.

Lan Wangji started toward Wen Qing instead, but he was pulled back by Wei Wuxian.

“You heard the man! Back to the dorm it is! I’m a rule-follower now, did you know that, Lan Zhan? It’s my duty to keep you in line! Otherwise, who knows what scandalous things you might do?"

After a round of tugging and bickering, Lan Wangji found himself accompanied by Wei Wuxian to the infirmary to gather medical supplies, then drawing his mouth into a thin line of forfeit when Wei Wuxian insisted on carrying them all. And last he was trudging along next to his spirited roommate down the moonlit stone path and dewy grass trail to their duplex.

"...Thank you," Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian cocked an eyebrow. "For what?"

For protecting Wen Ning from bullies. For saving me from the monster. For caring about my injuries.

All these words danced on his tongue. But in the end, Lan Wangji let the night breeze answer for him.

When they arrived at the dorm, Lan Wangji immediately marched over to his closet. He hesitated, then pulled the door.

It was locked again.

This was very, very strange. Lan Wangji glared at the door, feeling offended. It had gotten him into a lot of trouble.

Could it be that somehow this closet held a portal to the girls' dormitory?

He needed to set this straight. First thing tomorrow, Lan Wangji resolved to speak to Wen Qing.

Unfortunately, he soon learned that it would be very hard to keep Wei Wuxian out of his business.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3! New chapters posted every Monday on AO3 and Tuesday on Tumblr.

Ch. 4 > |  chapter list

[reminiscing-writer]

Scars

Warning: self harm, depression

This story involves very detailed descriptions of self harm behaviors, and the mentality of a mentally ill person- as reference; me lmao.

Reader descretion is advised.

If anyone you know, or you yourself are having self harm or suicidal thoughts please do not hesitate to call the number below- or even just send me a message. I am always willing to listen. I have had a past of very bad self harm/depression, and I am always willing to lend an ear to listen, or a shoulder to cry on.

Suicide Hotline- 800-273-8255

Self harm Hotline- 800-549-4266

Or message me on here :)

-

Y/n was always really cautious about her scars. Wether that be the ones on her arms, or legs, or stomach or hips. Having hidden them for years made her almost expertly on quickly pulling down her sleeve, or making a distraction to divert someone’s mind elsewhere.

But, it took just one small slip up for her secret to be out to Dr. Spencer Reid- her fellow friend and colleague.

The night before was a rough one. Nightmare filled, and absolutely no sleep to help keep y/n awake on the flight the next morning. The team was leaving for a case in Oklahoma, so the flight was at least a few hours.

As soon as y/n settled into the seat, it took no more than 15 minutes for her eyes to shut, and her breathing to steady, signaling a rather peaceful slumber.

She was asleep- so it wasn’t at all her fault. Her sleeve had rode up as she rested her elbow on the arm rest and her head in her hands. Her some fading- and some freshly red- scars were on display.

The only one seeing this view, being sat across from her, was Spencer.

He had ingulfed himself with reading One Thousand And One Nights, rather- rereading it. He had come across a sentence which reminded him of a joke he wanted to tell his friend. He looked up, the joke already rolling off his tongue, and a smile already playing at his lips.

That’s when his eyes saw it.

His words got stuck mid-throat, and his mouth dried so fast, it alarmed him. He blinked, and blinked and blinked again, hoping it was just a trick of his mind. Maybe he was just so tired he was seeing things.

He wanted to say something, but silence played at his lips. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. His eyes were stuck to y/n’s exposed arm. Diagonal cuts, and horizontal scars. Freshly made red ones. Some scarred, some puffy. Some faded white.

It wasn’t until the captain announced that the jet would be landing soon that y/n began stirring in her seat. She shifted and slowly stretched out in her seat. Yawning, she rubbed knuckles at her closed eyes, slowly opening them.

She was greeted by Spencer watching her. She simply sleepily smiled at him, thinking nothing of his blank expression.

-

The team got to the police station and Hotch quickly paired them as suited. Emily and Morgan were told to go to the scene of the latest crime, JJ and David were instructed to head over to the coroners office, and y/n and Spencer were instructed to stay at the station and make a geographic profile while Hotch spoke to the Vic’s families.

Y/n stood at the map, pushing in a pin at the locations of each attack. Spencer stood at a distance, watching her. He tried to behave as casual as possible. But, that just wasn’t like him. To ignore something as big as this, he just couldn’t do it.

He kept finding himself glancing at her wrist, or shifting uncomfortably when she played with her sleeves hem.

“You okay?” He heard her voice break him out of yet another trance.

“Huh?” He blinked blankly.

“I said, are you okay? You’ve been kind of distracted ever since we landed.” Y/n inquired, placing the tiny tub of pushpins on the table covered in papers.

Spencer, scratching the back of his neck, answers, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He fiddles with file in his hands. Y/n turns her back to him again, and gets lost thinking about the case while looking at the map before her. “I was actually, uh- I was hoping we could talk about something, actually.” He stumbles over his words.

“Mmhmm?” She hums distractedly, licking her lips

He takes far too long to form a sentence, just to get interrupted by Hotch. “They found another body.” He states, rushing into the room, having y/n spin around instantly.

She furrows her brows, “Same MO?” Her eyes look upset.

He nods, “Morgan and JJ are on the way, but we’re closer.” He turns back out of the room.

Y/n and Spencer nod, grabbing their coats, and following behind. The ride from the station to the crime scene- yet another small suburban home, was only 15 minutes.

All 15 of which y/n spent shooting ideas around with Hotch, and Spencer sat staring out the window.

He couldn’t quite understand why this was upsetting him so much. Yes, y/n was a dear close friend of his. But, he didn’t even know the full story. Those marks on her arm could mean tons of different things. They could be a part of her past, which she’s recovered from. They could be scratches from her cat. Does she have a cat? Maybe, she went to Emily’s and Sergio scratched her. Maybe-

The car pulls up in front of a small pale yellow home. The house was swarmed in police officers, a few men in CSI jackets, some EMT’s running in with a gurney.

All three FBI agents get out of their SUV and start walking towards the house to be greeted by the head officer. A short blonde man, slightly on the chubby side, Chief McClain.

“Agent Hotchner,” he nodded, shaking the hand of the leader of the trio, “her name was Cassidy Williams. A sophomore at the local community college.”

“Are they ruling this as a suicide too?” Y/n asked, trying to look over McClains shoulder into the house.

“Yep,” he sighed, “seems that way.” He turns, motioning for the agents to follow him. As they enter the house, they walk around broken glass, very obviously shifted furniture, and a few shattered photo frames. “This is where it looks like the killer tried to subdue her, but she fought back.” He keeps walking down a hall, and into a bathroom, “And, here,” He scrunches his nose, and turns, not wanting to see the scene, “is, well... where it happened.” He swallowed hard, walking back to the front of the house, leaving Spence, Hotch and y/n in the bloody bathroom.

Hotch gets straight to business, and starts looking into the cabinet above the sink. Before Spencer can get closer to the tub, he feels y/n turn and rush past him. He sees her head out of the bathroom into the living room, instantly getting busy with the broken pictures and glass on the floor.

Y/n had an uneasy feeling about this case from the get go. She debated wether or not she should ask Hotch if she could sit this one out, but decided against it. She could handle this one just like any other.

But this wasn’t like any other case.

This case involved girls in their mid-to-late twenties, who were being held captive in their own home. They would be blackmailed by the unsub with some personal information, and then coerced into what seemed like killing themselves.

So far, three girls, now four, had been found. One hanging, one with bleach all down her system, one drowned in her bathtub, and now the latest victim, shot on her own bathroom floor. The blood being splattered all over the walls and tiles.

It took one split second for y/n’s stomach turn when she saw the body on the bloody bathroom floor. She quickly turn and distracted herself with the scene in the living room.

As she picked up glass shards off the floor, she acted as if she were looking for fingerprints. In reality, her mind was racing, her breathing was getting unsteady, and her eyes couldn’t focus on anything no matter how hard she tried.

“1, 2, 3, 4,” She slowly whispered to herself, trying to calm her breathing, “1, 2, 3, 4.” She shook her head, taking in a shaky breath through her nose, and out through her mouth.

“Hey,” a hand on her shoulder caused her to jump, “I was going to head back to the station,” Spencer looked at her intently, “I’d like the company, if you don’t mind.” He offered.

She swallowed hard, and simply nods.

He noticed. He noticed how her face turned when she saw the blood on the bathroom floor. He saw her having a panic attack in the living room. He saw how desperate she was to get out of there. He saw her physically calm as they drove back to the station.

He saw all that, and couldn’t help but wonder how many times in the past she felt this way, and he hadn’t noticed.

When the pulled into the parking lot of the police station, y/n sat quietly in the passenger for a second. “Thank you.” She said barely above a whisper.

Spencer looked over to her, “For what?” He asked innocently.

She looked at him with almost sad smile, “Nothing,” she brushed off, “c’mon, let’s go crack this case.”

-

Y/n knew she wouldn’t last this whole case. She could feel it in her bones. She would slip up, or have another attack, or say something. But, she had to try. Her coworkers couldn’t find out. They couldn’t ever know that she had tried to kill herself years ago. How even just before they left for this case, she had a breakdown in the bathroom, and made a few fresh cuts on her arms and thighs.

The team was all seated around a table in a conference room which was wafting in the aroma of coffee grounds. Spencer purposely seated himself next to y/n.

“Well, what are we saying? This guys a sexual sadist?” Morgan scratched his head with the back of his pen.

“That doesn’t make sense though, he’s not the one hurting them.” JJ sips her steaming coffee.

“But, these girls are still suffering,” Rossi interjects, taking a bite of his chocolate croissant, “all these methods of death are painful. If he is a sexual sadist, he wouldn’t need to be inflicting the pain first hand.”

“David’s right.” Hotch nods, “Spencer, y/n,” he calls both of your attention, “where are you with the geographic profile?”

Spencer stands up, his hands taking the weird positions they usually do when he’s explaining something. “We’ve managed to get a 5-mile radius which all the victims houses overlap in. The unsub’s safe zone,” he points to one of the many circles on the map behind us, “is right here. It’s almost garunteed that his next attack will be,” he points to a smaller circle within the first one, “here.”

Hotch nods, dialing Garcia and stepping out of the room, “Let me get this to Garcia. Let’s see if she can get an address of one of our suspects from that area.”

The room is silent for a moment before JJ speaks up, “Imagine how terrified these poor girls must have been.” She sighed sadly.

Y/n had said nothing this entire time. She sat quietly, not even daring to open the file before her. She couldn’t handle seeing the bodies of these girls.

“I don’t mean to sound harsh, but her’s was probably the quickest.” Derek says, pointing to Karina Vega, the gunshot victim.

Y/n swallowed, pushing her seat back, silently excusing herself from the group.

“What about the hanging?” Rossi asks.

“Approximately, it takes 13 seconds to just lose consciousness, but around 4 to 5 minutes to actually die.” Reid explains.

Y/n grabs her bag, and heads for the door, before bumping into a uniformed officer. She tried to walk around him, but gets stopped by him, “They found another girl.”

Y/n’s heart sinks further than it already was. Morgan throws his pen across the room, frustratedly.

“Same MO?” Emily asks, looking at the officer.

“Slit wrists.” Is all it takes for y/n’s shoulders to sink, causing the strap of her bag to slip off and fall with a thud, catching the attention of her teammates.

“Y/n,” Spencer slowly walks towards her. “You okay?”

She turns to face the rest of the team, but she’s already got tear streaks down her face. “I- uh, I have to go.” She breaths out, quickly wiping her face.

“Hey, slow down,” JJ quickly stands up, trying to grab her friends bag off the floor, but y/n beats her to it. Y/n runs out past the officer, and straight to the bathrooms. The conference room looms in silence. “Is she okay?” JJ asks Spencer, who had the same worried expression as her on his face.

-

“1, 2, 3, 4,” y/n sobbed to herself, pacing in the bathroom. “Please,” she shook her head, “1, 2 3, 4.” She was counting the same way her therapist had told her to when she needed to calm herself.

It worked a majority of the time, except now her lips were uttering numbers, where her mind was playing flashbacks of her own suicide attempt. Her mind was telling her lies. Her mind was her worst enemy- it always was.

She kept seeing herself back on her bathroom floor, tiles covered in her own blood. She could feel the sting of cold air on her deep cuts. She could hear the EMT’s break down the locked door to try to get to her.

Y/n stood against the wall, letting herself fall down, sobbing into her hands.

Just a few cuts, her mind coerced her, you always feel better afterwards.

She sniffled, knowing that was the truth. She reached for her bag, and opened a tiny pocket in the bag. Grabbing out a small box, she opened it and pulled out a small blade.

She always felt a high before she cut. And, after, she felt like she was floating. She hastily lifted her sleeve, and as she aligned the blade across the many previously residing scars on her arm, she breathed in deep, readying herself.

The door to the door to the bathroom quickly slammed open, startling y/n, causing her to drop the blade.

Spencer entered, and looked around a second, before spotting her on the floor. His eyes widened at the scene of her crying on the floor, he sleeve raised, and a blade laying a few inches away from her.

“Y/n,” he dipped down next to her, as she cowered in her own hands. She cries into her knees. He quietly hugs her close, simultaneously kicking the blade further away from her. “Hey, I’ve got you.” He quickly blinks away his own tears, as he sees all the cuts and scars that littered her arm.

-

“I’m not crazy.” Y/n hiccuped, here nose still stuffy from crying.

“I never said you were.” Spencer didn’t take his eyes of her.

“Then, tell them that.” Y/n nodded to the doctor who was looking at her through the glass, as he spoke to a nurse.

After finding you on the floor of the bathroom, Spencer convinced you to go to Hotchner, and if not come clean, at least have him send you back home. Since the unsub was as good as caught anyways, Spencer requested to be sent home also. (He had also let it slip into Hotch’s knowledge about your wellbeing- or rather, lack thereof.)

“I’m not crazy.” Y/n repeated, looking down at her hands in her lap.

Spencer looked at her, “I know.” He softly put a hand on her shoulder, “You’re brain is just a little sick. I know what that’s like.” Y/n looked up at him quizzingly, “I wake up everyday, afraid that it might be the day I see something that my minds made up, or hear voices that aren’t real. I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind.”

“Well, what do you do?”

“I sure as hell don’t do any of it alone.” He put his hands on top of hers, “And, neither will you.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop...” y/n quietly admits.

“It’s an addiction,” Spencer agreed, “but, an addiction in no way defines you. You can stop. Just watch,” He softly smiles to her, “I believe in you.”

He believed in her.

And that’s all the belief if it took for her to have the courage to go through with her recovery.

[snicketsleuth]

Slackin’ with the Sleuth: reviewing Netflix’s “The Vile Village”

After two sluggish double-episodes, we are now headed to the three best two-parters of the second season, nay, of the entire show until now. Today, we’re going to talk about direction. “A Series of Unfortunate Events” has suffered not only from being overwritten, but also from being under-directed.  Not an unfortunate consequence of the original writer being involved in the production of the television series, but rather of the other writers not controlling him enough. Episodes written by Daniel Handler get a bad rep amongst the fandom, but from their structure it’s pretty clear that he was more than willing to change his own outlines and listen to the contributions of other people. That being said, it’s hard to criticize the guy who came up with the work you’re supposed to adapt. Which is why episodes written by other people and peer-reviewed by Handler tend to fare better, as his role is to remind everyone of what made the story so successful in the first place.

We’ll see how this contributed to the improvement in direction in the latter half of Season 2. Most of it comes from the production team finally treating the series not only as an adaptation, but also as its own cinematic work. Let’s determine why below the cut.

DISCLAIMER (NOTHING TO DO WITH THE REVIEW):

I missed you guys, it’s been a while.

I apologize for abandoning the blog for so long, to the point that some of you people started worrying about me. I do appreciate the concern, so thank you. Most of my absence can simply be explained away by the many hours I’ve had to put into my day job. This has led to difficult choices regarding my hobbies and extra-work activities, writing for this blog being one of them. Truth be told, I don’t feel this blog fulfils as interesting a purpose as it did before. I’ve already talked about most book theories I cared about, and the books have been discussed to death at that point. As to other types of analyses, there are plenty of talented people on Tumblr who do it as well as me, so I didn’t feel the need to add much to the debate. But I’ve had time to think about plenty of Snicket-related topics during my absence, so no, the blog isn’t dead, just… much less active as it was a few years back. Stay tuned for more, my love for the books and their associated material is very much alive and kicking.

With all due respect (and affection) for our community, your duly devoted Sleuth.

This is the most atmospheric episode to date, and a beautiful one at that. While episodes of the first season certainly had their ambiance, most of it came from the introduction of new musical themes. The second season tries to bring the direction to the next level by fashioning each double-episode after a certain genre, which influences the entire aesthetic of the piece from its writing, colors and camera work. This is perfectly in line with the tone of the original series: each book focuses on a vivid and peculiar location which becomes a character in and of itself, and also parodies specific literary tropes. In keeping with this tradition, the televised version of  “The Austere Academy” mocks coming-of-age teen movies, “The Erstaz Elevator” has shades of musical romantic comedies from Hollywood’s Golden Age, “The Vile Village” pays homage to Westerns, “The Hostile Hospital” is a straight-up horror exploitation flick and “The Carnivorous Carnival” is a neo-expressionist drama. Or rather that’s what we were supposed to infer. In reality, “The Austere Academy” and “The Erstaz Elevator” don’t have anything special in terms of direction to truly allude to their models, and while “The Carnivorous Carnivale” is a blatant remake of “Freaks”, so was the book in the first place. Only with “The Vile Village” and “The Hostile Hospital” do we see the direction add a substantial commentary on the original aesthetic of their respective book. So while the intention is laudable, the execution is somewhat lacking as far as the entire season is concerned. More on that in the next review.

But for now let’s just gush over the gorgeous visuals of “The Vile Village”. Westerns describe the struggle of civilization in a lawless territory, a perfect setting for the crux of a book concerned with legality and mob psychology. While the introduction of the Nevermore tree leaves something to be desired, we do eventually get some fantastic shots. The integration of the CGI and the digital matte paintings significantly improves from this episode on, although whether the artificiality of previous episodes was an intentional choice from the directors is anyone’s guess. The scene of Hector’s first flight aboard the self-sustaining mobile home is a work of beauty. One must regret his line about crows being too “scary”, though. Not only is this an unnecessary change to his character (he is fascinated by the crows in the book), it doesn’t even make sense as the adaptation does not portray Hector as being scared of crows in any shape or form otherwise. He actually has a line about admiring them in the first part of the episode! What on Earth were the writers thinking?

The feels of Western movies is well-rendered, with an impressive focus or lighting. What the director seems to have forgotten is how dusty the Village of Fowl Devotees should look. This is pretty unforgivable given that the book insists on the unbearable feeling of dirtiness which permeates the town. There’s an egregious continuity error where the Baudelaire orphans escape from prison in a massive cloud of debris… then come into the next shot with immaculate clothing. This is a major sin as far as immersion goes.

Another blatant directorial choice is the tendency to film scenes across a two-dimensional space, with characters moving from one side of the screen to the next. This ever-present horizontal axis gives the series a somewhat stiff aspect, with characters not being able to express themselves in a dynamic body language in action scene. There are two possible reasons for this camerawork. Firstly, it makes certain scenes easier to follow (we must not forget that the series is expected to remain watchable for small children), although a little boring on the visual side. Secondly, it does imitate the format of a theater stage, and the theater world plays an important role in Snicket’s world, from “The Marvelous Marriage” to “La Forza del Destino”. I do think the showrunners went a little too far in this direction, though. If they’re so deadest on reproducing the feel of a theater production, maybe they should just pitch the series as a Broadway show rather than a television series. The chase sequences in this double-episode look more like a Street Fighter screen than a cinematic production.

But by far the greatest contribution of this episode is the merciful introduction of SILENCE. What a relief to hear the godforsaken concertina shut up for one minute and let us enjoy the dialogue! The heart of the double-episode comes from the back-and-forth dynamic between Jacques and Olaf (or, to a lesser extent, Esmé and Olivia). Truly a battle between blind, hopeful idealism and cynical nihilism. Major props to Nathan Fillion, who remains possibly the best actor in the entire series, and Neil Patrick Harris who should ruin the seriousness of the scenes with his constant bebopping but somehow doesn’t.

This however comes as the expanse of the Baudelaire orphans themselves, whose presence is somewhat secondary in this episode. The symbolism of them escaping the town in a fire truck is a strike of genius… but the Isadora couplet subplot is drastically skipped over and the unnecessary introduction of Mr Poe drastically reduces their screentime. It’s more forgivable than in “The Erstaz Elevator” as most scenes between the adult characters do help move the plot forward and provide interesting information, but it’s still one of our major criticisms for this season. The writers are clearly infatuated with the adult actors, which hurts the pacing of the story. It’s a shame as the child actors’ acting shows major improvements in the second season. Louis Hynes comes into his own in the prison scene, but the breakneck speed of the scene’s direction does not leave him enough room to grow. We will however concede that Jacquelyn and Larry don’t overstay their welcome in this episode, and that Jacques and Olivia’s romance is sweet to look at. While we disagree with the changes made to Olivia’s character on the whole (we’ll get to that in my review of “The Carnivorous Carnival”), it did produce some well-written, well-acted scenes. Less appreciated is the unnecessary and overstated introduction of a Violet/Duncan romance subplot… this is what happens when you base 90% of an adaptation on what admittedly amounts to fan-pandering. It’s sweet, then it’s sweeter, then you’ve got diabetes.

As far as character development goes, it’s pretty hit-or-miss. Esmé is as usual fantastic. The writers have managed to attain a difficult equilibrium regarding her character dynamic: she obeys enough not to overshadow him, but she also acts as her own antagonist, pursuing her own goals and betraying him if the need arises. The rest of the troupe also has an interesting dynamic with her and her integration in the crime family feels pretty seamless.

But so far we’ve saved the worst for the last paragraph, and as you’ve probably guessed, we’re going to have to speak about Hector. Gods almighty, what a waste of a perfectly good character. Josephine’s death was shot in a very disrespectful manner, but at least her character remained mostly the same. Here the Hector from the books, a tragic and heartbreaking portrayal of peer pressure and social anxiety, is reduced to a joke. To add insult to injury, it’s not even a funny joke: his constant fainting gets tedious quickly. And the ultimate twist about his mom’s fate not being the source of his trauma after all basically reduces his arc to a complete waste of the viewer’s time. If the writers hated him so much, why not just cut his screen time instead of demeaning his entire existence? This does not bode well for a potential adaptation of “All The Wrong Questions”, as Hector’s outlook on family loyalty and peer pressure is somewhat of a plot point in this series. I truly cannot begin to understand these choices as Hector plays a similar role to Hal, Charles and Jerome, who also have likewise personalities… but the writers have adapted Hal, Charles and Jerome faithfully and cleverly, so what gives?

[whump-my-dear-watson]

Febuwhump day 24 “Blood Lust”

Title: Erratic Actions

Author: whump-my-dear-watson

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Reid, JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, Alvez, Lewis, Rossi, Simmons

Episode setting: Sometime in Season 13 or 14 Warnings: captured, blood, torture, stabbed, restrained, so much blood, shot, character death,

Word Count: 4,600

A/N: This is basically if I had a chance to write an episode, this would be it. Literally. Also, this is me just making up for lack of overall MGG this season. If you can’t do gore, please don’t read! This gets pretty dark pretty fast. There are a lot of jumps in perspective in this one, I am not really good with that, so this is pretty choppy. 

“This Unsub is erratic. No method to his madness,” said Rossi directing his words to the group of police officers in front of them.

“This is what we call a spree killer, but a deviation.” entered Luke.

“Most spree killers kill hard and fast, with a gun or a bomb, but this killer takes his time, slowly bleeding his victims out.” JJ said, giving it off to Reid.

“Victimology of this unsub is random, leading us to believe that he just takes victims of opportunity. That means anyone could be a target.”

Tara took over, “We suggest that you inform schools and colleges to always walk with another person, and we urge families to have the whereabouts of their children at all time.”

“Children have not been targeted just yet, but that doesn't mean that they won’t be.” Emily wrapped up.

Emily turned to the team. “Rossi, you and Luke go and interview the first victims family, Tara, Matt, check out the latest crime scene,  Reid you interview the second victims family, JJ and I will handle the press and set up here at the station.” The team nodded their agreement and headed in their separate ways.

Reid hardly ever drove, typically he was always with someone who would drive, but today he was on his own. He contemplated driving himself, he definitely could, but he chose against it. He could use the fresh air, and the second's victims house was only 2.3 miles away from the station. Spencer tightened his strap on his satchel and pushed his way through the doors. His long strides brought him closer to his destination in no time, the repetitive motion of walking calmed him down, always had. He took in his surroundings and for a moment just closed his eyes, he forgot about the mystery, forgot about his pain, the unsub, it was just him and nature. The sun resting on his shoulders reflecting off his wavy hair. Reid’s gaze fell upon a white aging house in the distance, a quarter mile away he calculated.

Before his mind could make any other statistics he felt a flat pain on the side of his head, as his body crumpled to the floor his eyelids fluttered open and shut, just before becoming fully enveloped in the growing darkness he saw a hooded figure standing over his defenseless body.

Reid was awoken by the sound of a saw being sharpened, the course metal rubbing against each other sent a pain into his head.

Reid released a breath that he wasn’t aware that he was even holding, he groggily attempted to move his hands, only to be greeted with a tug on his wrists, looking down he observed his bindings, they were rope. Obviously, this Unsub is no master killer, but a killer none the less. Furrowing his brow he looked up trying to take in his surroundings, he was in some kind of barn, it looked unused. He lay horizontal on a wooden table, it’s coarseness already making him feel uncomfortable. The bulb hanging above his head lit up the room but brought back many unwarranted memories of his capture by Tobias all those years ago. Reid blinked his eyes shut and pushed away the memory, being stuck in his past would not help his now.

Reid kept his eyes closed for a moment if he focused on what he heard he might get a better idea on where he was. How long he was out he didn’t know, but he guessed that he couldn’t be too far away from where he was taken. His thoughts were hijacked by an unsavory voice, it was deep and scratchy, no doubt had been upon this world for many years.

“You’re up,” the figure stepped into Reid’s view, “Good.”

Reid gulped at the man came closer, his sweat now soaking through his collar. “Why, why am I here?” he said, his voice soft and timid. The Unsub sauntered closer to Reid, a grin plastered on his sleep-deprived face.

“You’re here because you’re going to help me.”

“Help you with what?”

“With my hobby. I just took it up recently, I can’t believe what I have been missing out on. You’re my next project.” The words the Unsub spoke sent shivers down Reid’s spine, as optimistic as he tried to be he could not stop the ever growing speed of his racing heart. Reid relaxed his neck onto the wooden table, it would make no sense to wear himself out by trying to keep himself upright. His head still throbbed from the hit earlier, and he didn’t know what he could do. His gun was gone, he was literally tied down, and he could feel another wave of unconsciousness coming upon him. He was in trouble.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * *

“Hey, Emily, did Spence get anywhere with the second victims family?” asked JJ approaching her friend.

Prentiss’ face contorted into confusion as she processed what JJ had just asked her. “I thought he had called you. I haven’t heard from him since this morning. Do you think he’s okay?”

JJ nodded hesitantly, “I’m sure he’s fine. Just forgot to check in. I’ll give him a quick call,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, speed-dialing Spence, after she reached voicemail she turned to Prentiss, a worried look in her eyes. “He’s not answering.”

Emily jumped into action “JJ, call Garcia, see if she can track Reid’s phone, I’ll contact the rest of the team, maybe one of them as heard from him.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * *

A cold splash of water brought Reid out of unconsciousness, his heart racing twice the speed it should he took a big breath, his body assumed he was drowning, but his mind was all too aware that this was just his wake up call, things were going to get much worse off for him.

Sputtering and shaking his head to get some of the drips of water off of him he looked up, his field of vision was restrained to what he could see above him, and if he strained his neck, a few feet lower on either side. Because of this hindering fact, he wasn’t aware of the knife until it penetrated his skin. The sharp pain of the blade shot through his body enforcing a loud gasp to cross his lips. Reid could feel his own hot blood ooze out of the gaping hole in his leg, the pain was immense and unrelenting, it would not let him think of anything else. Just pain. The Unsub came into Reid’s view, holding the knife that still dripped with his blood.

“Please, you don’t have to do this. I’ve done nothing wrong to you,” Reid pleaded.

The Unsub took a moment to reply.

        “I know nothing about you. And I want it to stay that way. You’re not here for me to get to know, you’re here to fill my need.” Reid’s whole body shook as the Unsub placed the knife down and picked up a saw from a nearby shelf, the battered condition of the rigid edges led Reid to believe that the saw had been used many a time before.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * *

“Okay, thanks Garcia,” JJ hung up the phone and looked Prentiss in the eyes. “Garcia pinged his phone, it has his location about a quarter mile from the 2nd victims family’s house. Apparently, he never arrived.” Prentiss nodded solemnly and checked her phone, the exact location was sent to her from Garcia.

“Tell the others to meet us there.” Upon arriving at the scene the team saw Reid’s phone and satchel lying abandoned on the sidewalk.

“Kid,” Rossi said, shaking his head in despair.

“Do you think it was the same Unsub? It’s his MO, taking someone random in the neighborhood and leaving their phones and bags,” said Tara.

Luke shook his head yes, “We have to assume that. And if this is the same Unsub, does he know Reid is an Agent? And if he doesn’t, what would he do if he found out?”

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * ** * * * * *

Reid inched himself away from the unsub as best he could in his binds, but the man just approached him calm as ever. He set his saw on top of Reid’s arm and it just rested there for a moment, unmoving. The Unsub seemed to relish in the fear that lay in his victim's eyes.

“Please, you can let me go. I’m sorry about all the things that happened to you.” Reid said, barely in focus, trying not only to talk himself out of this situation but also distract himself from the continuous pain that pulsed from his bleeding leg.

At his words, the Unsub shifted his weight. “How do you know that something happened to me?” Reid steadied his breathing as he considered his answer.

“I am a Doctor. I study human behavior. I know that someone that does... does the things that you do, they do it because they’re hurting. And I’m sorry. I know hurt too,”

At this, the Unsub’s demeanor completely changed. “You know nothing of my pain!” He shouted above Reid’s scream as he dug his saw into his arm drawing a rough red line of blood through his shirt sleeve.

Reid closed his eyes biting down on his lip to stifle the scream that the next swipe up the saw brought up, tears stained his face as he refused to voice his pain. It was the only thing that he had left. The Unsub wanted him to scream, so that was exactly what he wasn’t going to give him. The Unsub was hastily hacking away at Reid’s arm, not enough to sever it, but enough for him to wish that it was gone. Reid took in a big breath and let another one out. If he couldn’t put any pressure on the wound then the least that he could do was control his breathing. Reid suppressed a sob as the Unsub uttered the words he dreaded.

“Now we shouldn’t let your arm have all the fun,” In a swift movement the Unsub slashed at Reid’s chest, tearing through his cardigan and a layer of skin. Logically, Reid knew that by the speed of the Unsub’s movement and the level pain that he inflicted the wounds were only about an inch thick, but he felt as if his body were being torn in half.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * *

“If this is really the same Unsub than we have to assume that he’ll stick to his own time table. So far he has kept his victims for 24 hours, bleeding them out through a series of cuts,” Rossi froze for a moment, unable to stop thinking about his friend in that position.

“It’s already been at least 8 hours. We need to find the Unsub before...” JJ couldn’t finish her sentence.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * *

The Unsub set the saw down next to Reid on the table if he wasn’t so tired he might have thought to try to use it to break his binds, but his body was worn. And his mind was soon to follow. The Unsub picked up a machete looking tool that hung menacingly on the wall and brought it over to Reid’s face. His smile made Reid sick, but maybe that was also lack of blood that had him nauseous.

The Unsub took the blade and traced it along Reid’s face, outlining his jawline and temple, barely breaking the skin, just leaving a faint hardly noticeably line behind it. Reid recognized this as psychological torture, and he wouldn’t give the Unsub the satisfaction of a reaction. He just closed his eyes and tried his best to ignore.

The Unsub trailed the machete down to Reid’s abdomen and pointed the tip of the blade just right to not hit any necessary organs, not just yet. The Unsub raised his weapon and with a swift downwards motions he embedded the machete into Reid’s side. Reid couldn’t help but let out a loud gasp, another set of tears ran down his face, his breathing rate became more unstable and unsteady, a soft almost suppressed yelp escaped his lips, and the Unsub seemed to like his reaction, because he left the machete in him, which kept most of the blood inside his body.

How much time had passed since the initial abduction Reid could only guess, and he knew he only had twenty-four hours. His vision would come and go, enveloped in black as he passed out from pain, and unable to look away from the loose light bulb that hung directly above him was turning his vision spotty.

Brought back to attention to the unsub by the movement of the blade inside him he could barely get out a weak, “Please,” before the unsub ruthlessly yanked his weapon from Reid’s body, releasing another wave of blood and pain.

“Please,”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * * * *

“Okay. Let’s talk about what we do know. We know that the Unsub hardly takes anyone outside the neighborhood, that means he probably lives in the area, right?” offered Luke.

“And the fact that he is slowly killing his victims, and keeping them awake for the torture, confirms two things, that he’s a sadist and that he is somewhere where surrounding people couldn’t hear any screams,” said Tara as she handed out coffee to her team.

“Hey, Garcia, is there any home owned land with at least 25 acres  in this 10-mile radius?” Emily said on speaker. 

“Yes, there are 3 that I can see here, one owned by a farm, which is active, might not have luck there, another one was just inherited to a young family, and the last one is owned by a Jacob Hall, looks like he’s a single male, white, 40s to 50s...”

“Just like our profile! Garcia can you-” started Matt.

“Address already in your phones.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” said Prentiss as the team rushed through the door of the station.

“Emily? Bring him back home.” Prentiss could hear Garcia’s voice breaking over the phone, which almost brought out the sob stuck in her own voice, but there was no time for that.

“We will,”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dying didn’t seem a bad option now. If he was dead the pain would go away. And Mauve, he could be with Mauve again. As the delirium from the pain took over his rational mind he gave in to his innermost thoughts. Why should he hold on? Hold onto this world that only seemed to bring him pain? He had died before. For a moment. Revived by CPR by a man that died soon after. He was young then. Full of hope of rescue.

But you can only survive so long on pain and sadness. You can only see so many friends die in front of you, leave you behind. There is only so much one can take before they break. Why did he refuse to break? Why did he stay in the field, after everything he had gone through? Why not just leave now. No pain. No hurt. No pressure. The relief seemed so close, he could almost taste it. Reid closed his eyes and smiled at the thought of reuniting with Mauve. But there were voices telling him to hold on, it wasn’t Mauve's voice, it was a voice he had grown accustomed too, a voice that he had known for over a decade, his best friend Jennifer, and Penelope, Emily was there too, and Rossi. Then he heard it, a voice that he hadn’t heard in a while. “Hang in there kid. I’m here.” Derek Morgan’s calming voice faded from Reid’s delirious mind as he was brought back to his painful reality with a jolt from a slap. That mark was sure to leave his face red, Reid thought to himself, but then again he was probably all covered in red already.

“Hey. Stay awake. I want you to see this next part.” the Unsub now was holding a smaller knife standing over Reid’s bindings.

Reid could only shake his head, he was so worn he could no longer even tremble with terror. All Reid wanted to do was go to sleep. And maybe take a cold bath. His forehead dripped with sweat and blood and his wounds seemed to radiate heat.

The Unsub took Reid’s wrist into his own meaty hands and delicately started making a small slit, getting more aggressive and rougher with each stroke. Reid turned his head away from the Unsub, digging his face into the table, if he wasn’t looking, it wasn’t happening. That mentality didn’t last long as the pain made him only able to think about one thing.

Oh, how Reid wished that he wasn’t tied up. Then at least he would be able to wipe the blood that was dripping agonizingly slow down his face. His time was almost up. Reid could feel it. This was the end. He held on, for his team, but as he lay bleeding out on the table in a barn in the middle of no-where Wisconsin he realized that he was completely and utterly alone.

No one but his above average IQ to consider, no one but the murderer in front of him to see him take his last breath. The unsub took out his knife that he used first, and stood gleefully in front of Reid, his last stroke would be with the same weapon as his first stroke. Reid wondered for a bit if this was intentional, why he was thinking of such minuscule matters was only to distract him from his impending doom. Reid shut his eyes for what he assumed to be the last time. How he longed to see his team and his mother for the last time. He had faith in them, he had faith in the system, but after a lifetime of mystery and hurt, he had learned to never expect relief.

“Thanks for playing, boy,” The Unsub rose his weapon high above his head.

“FBI! Drop your weapon!” Prentiss shouted as the team burst through the old barn doors.

Reid looked up at his friends, and a smile of relief washed over him. They were here. Even if he died now, at least it would be with his family. The Unsub regarded the hoard of Agents that surrounded him, guns pointed. He glanced down at Reid, still bound by ropes on the wooden table, holes seeping blood from everywhere it seemed. All he wanted to do was see them bleed. See them all bleed. In a split second the unsub made his decision, with a wicked smirk he tilted the blade towards Reid’s heart and started to plunge.

In a moment the team rushed towards the Unsub and Reid, careful to not hit their friend they let loose on the Unsub, filling him with bullets. His downward aim already in motion he fell forward with the knife still on route to Reid’s heart. Reid gathered the information and processed, if he rotated to the right he would have more of a chance of making it out of here alive.

The knife again pierced his skin and the Unsub’s body lay atop Reid and it. JJ and Rossi rushed to him, ripping the Unsub away. JJ untied Reid and Rossi immediately put pressure on the deepest open wounds that he could find.

“Spence,” JJ’s eyes filled with tears as she saw her friend lay so weak and drained. Reid could barely look them in the eyes he was so tired, the latest stab wound taking the last bit he had left in him.

As his mind drifted off he mumbled a small, “Mauve,”

JJ’s brow furrowed as she held on tightly to Reid’s hand, for support but also to help his bleeding wrist.

“Spencer, you have to stay with us, okay? I’m sorry you can’t go with Mauve. Please, Spence, don’t leave me.” JJ was unable to stop the wave of tears that streamed down her face. “Don’t leave us. Think about your godchildren, Henry, Spence you promised him you would make it to his birthday next week. You can’t go.”

Wiping her face she rested her other hand on his heaving shoulder.

“You can’t go,”

“Don’t take the knife out!” Tara called out as she approached the wounded man. “That’s the only thing keeping him alive right now, it’s blocking the majority of the blood from coming out.” The others nodded in understanding as they all stood around Reid.

“Medics are on their way, is he conscious?” Emily inquired.

“I don’t-I don’t think so,” JJ said with uncertainty in her voice that made everyone feel unsettled.

“We can’t move him until they arrive,” said Luke.

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Matt.

“Try to stop some of the bleeding, and pray to God that they arrive in time,” said Rossi.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * ** * * * * * * * * * *

The sound of sirens blaring in his ears awoke Reid with a start, his vision was blurry and he could only see out of one eye, the other wrapped in a bandage. After blinking profusely to try to clear his head he looked around him. He was strapped to a stretcher in an ambulance, JJ was still holding his hand as an EMT applied more bandages to his body, a paramedic just inserted an IV into him, and whatever was in it wasn’t quite taking the edge off.

“Spence, you’re awake!” JJ cried with joy. He gave her a weak smile that morphed into a grimace as another wave of pain hit him.

“Sir we need to give you a transfusion as soon as possible, you lost a lot of blood. Do you know what blood type you are?” Reid nodded shakily, but his voice didn’t seem to work. JJ saw him struggling and gave the Paramedic the knowledge that she needed. Reid’s pulse was thready, breathing erratic, and concentration at none, but he couldn’t help but feel at ease knowing that his best friend was right beside him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * *

The next time Reid awoke he was surrounded by his team, some of them sleeping on the couch, some on the chairs, some slumped against the wall. The dim light of his hospital room led him to believe it had to be late night or early morning.

Sleeping upright in a chair inches from his hospital bed rested a head-to-toe in color, Garcia. She jolted awake from some six sense, sensing that he was up.

“Garcia? What are you doing here? Are we still in-”

“Wisconsin? Yes. They couldn’t transfer you in the,” she gestured at his patched-up body, “state that you were in. I flew down. I couldn’t let my boy genius be in a hospital without a proper gift-bag!” she grabbed a bright pink bag at her feet and shook it with excitement.

“But that can be for later, now, you just need to tell me how you are.”

Reid shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been better. What happened, exactly?”

“After the medics came they, uh,  pumped you full of blood, then you had to get emergency surgery for the...multiple stab wounds you acquired.” she shook her head at tears were starting to form in her eyes. “I just, can’t believe we almost lost you. Again. You have been in a coma for 2 days after the surgery, and honestly, the doctors didn’t know if you’d make it.”

Reid took in the information as he stared out at the rest of his slumbering team. “You mean they all stayed here, for me?”

“Spencer, none of us are going to let you out of our site again!” she said with a laugh, that must have been more than a whisper because JJ was soon awake and at his side, in no time the whole team was, showering him with love that was so absent from the barn he came from.

As hurt and pain-ridden he was, Reid couldn’t help but feel like the most blessed person in the entire world.

[theonyxpath]

Hey y’all, it’s Eric and Vance here. This time, we’re previewing Lunars: Fangs at the Gate with a selection of Lunar Charms. This selection is aimed at showing off their shapeshifting, their core concept as divine apex predators, and the warrior-trickster-witch themes of Lunar Castes. Enjoy!

Heart-Drinking Allure

Cost: —; Mins: Appearance 3, Essence 1 Type: Permanent Keywords: None Duration: Permanent Prerequisite Charms: None

The Lunar need not shed blood to taste of her lover’s heart. When she performs a sacred hunt to take the shape of a human that has a Major or Defining Tie of love or lust toward her (or her current shape), she may conclude it with a voluntary act of physical intimacy — a passionate embrace, a kiss, sex — instead of killing him.

Herd-Reinforcement Stance

Cost: 4m (+1wp); Mins: Charisma 4, Essence 2 Type: Supplemental Keywords: None Duration: Instant Prerequisite Charms: Herd-Strengthening Invocation

The Lunar embodies the archetypal Other, set apart from society yet defining it through her presence. When she makes an influence roll whose targets all belong to the same culture, she treats each target as having a Minor Principle reflecting one of that culture’s customs. Not only can this penalize their Resolve, but it can also be leveraged when using an instill roll to strengthen an existing Intimacy, when using a persuade roll to determine what level of task targets will perform, or similar purposes. The Lunar must be aware of the custom she invokes, letting her either appeal to it overtly or subtly phrase her arguments to prey on it.

If the Lunar has a Defining Tie towards the society whose custom she invokes, she may pay an additional Willpower to instead treat the custom as a Major Principle. Outcasts, dissidents, or any culture members whose personal Intimacies conflict with the custom still only treat it as Minor.

Flowing Body Evasion

Cost: 5m (+1wp); Mins: Dexterity 5, Essence 3 Type: Reflexive Keywords: Perilous, Uniform Duration: Instant Prerequisite Charms: Sensing the Deadly Flow

In the moment that she is attacked, the Lunar’s body becomes fluid and malleable. Her flesh yields to the passage of blades and arrows without suffering injury, can compress itself to take shelter between even the tiniest gaps between falling boulders, and can seep through pools of acid or lava unharmed. She may dodge even an undodgeable attack as long as she is aware of it. If the attack roll beats her Evasion, she may pay one Willpower to subtract successes equal to her Evasion (against that attack) from the damage roll. As long as the Lunar takes no damage from the attack, she is considered to have successfully dodged it.

Alternatively, the Lunar may use this Charm, paying its Willpower surcharge, to perfectly dodge a source of uncountable damage. If the damage is recurring, the Willpower surcharge is waived on subsequent rounds in the same scene.

Swift Killer Style

Cost: 3m, 2i; Mins: Dexterity 3, Essence 2 Type: Supplemental Keywords: Perilous, Protean, Uniform Duration: Instant Prerequisite Charms: Predator Grace Technique

The Lunar is a frenetic blur of violence, letting the momentum of her blows impel her across the battlefield. To use this Charm, she must move into close range with an enemy and attack him on the same turn. If the attack succeeds, she may reflexively move one range band in any direction, vertically or horizontally. This doesn’t count as her movement for the turn.

Protean: In animal shapes capable of flight, the Lunar may instead ascend two range bands upward. In aquatic animal shapes, she may instead descend two range bands down into a body of water.

Memory-Drinking Meditation

Cost: 1m; Mins: Intelligence 3, Essence 1 Type: Reflexive Keywords: Stackable Duration: Indefinite Prerequisite Charms: None

The Lunar tastes the minds of her prey through their heart’s blood. When she completes a sacred hunt to take a human’s shape, she takes on one of her target’s Ties to an individual character, gaining it herself at the Minor level. She must be aware of the Tie beforehand, either through a successful read intentions roll or as an inference from observing her target’s behavior.

As long as she is in the target’s shape, she has access to all his memories that relate to the adopted Tie. The Storyteller may choose to reveal specific information related to the victim’s memories to the Lunar when it becomes relevant, and the Lunar may introduce facts (Exalted, p. 237) as though these memories were a relevant Lore background. This Charm ends if the Lunar’s adopted Tie is completely eroded.

The Lunar may stack multiple activations of this Charm to retain the memories of multiple victims, or a single victim’s memories of multiple Ties.

Devil-Pleasing Chiminage

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Intelligence 4, Essence 2 Type: Simple Keywords: None Duration: Instant Prerequisite Charms: Ardent Prayers Fulfilled

The Lunar bears secret wisdom of the ways of Heaven and Hell, and knows how best to appease their otherworldly denizens. She makes an (Intelligence + [Lore or Occult]) roll to introduce a fact regarding the existence of something that will make an especially pleasing offering to a spirit or raksha, without needing any specific Lore background. The roll is made against a difficulty of (the entity’s Essence + 2), although the Storyteller may lower this if the Lunar describes an offering that will require notable effort to recover. The offering must be specific and unique — if she attempts to court a river god, she could not introduce a fact that he desires apples, but could declare that the first apple of spring that grows on a specific tree would be efficacious.

Once the Lunar has introduced this fact, she or someone else must still undertake any efforts necessary to secure the offering. It counts as exceptional equipment (Exalted, p. 580) on a bargain roll with that entity made by whoever offers it, and also counts as a Major Intimacy supporting that influence. If the Lunar or the Solar mate conveys the offering, it counts as a Defining Intimacy and also increases the cost to resist by one Willpower. The offering’s benefit can only apply to a single roll.

Uncertain Sky Ambiguity

Cost: 6m; Mins: Manipulation 3, Essence 1 Type: Simple Keywords: Mute Duration: Instant Prerequisite Charms: Tale-Spinning Mastery

There are no certainties in the company of tricksters. The Lunar makes a special (Manipulation + [Presence or Socialize]) instill roll with (higher of Essence or 3) bonus dice, sowing disbelief through implication and innuendo. Success causes her targets to doubt whether a specific fact is true: A traveler waiting to meet a companion might question whether he’s waiting at the correct teahouse; a merchant might second-guess the value of a good; the victim of a pickpocketing might doubt whether he had the stolen item with him all along. This uncertainty can be leveraged with social influence as though it were a Major Intimacy for the rest of the scene.

A character presented with direct evidence that the fact is true may shake off this influence without spending Willpower. Likewise, a character with an Intimacy encompassing belief in the fact the Lunar seeks to cast into doubt may treat the roll as unacceptable influence. A soldier with a Tie of loyalty towards his commander might be made to question whether he heard her orders correctly, but not whether he serves her.

Echo-Drinking Awareness

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Perception 3, Essence 2 Type: Simple Keywords: Protean Duration: One day Prerequisite Charms: Heightened Sense Method

The Lunar subtly shifts her vocal chords and inner ears, perceiving the world through ultrasonic vibrations. She is able to “see” everything out to long range through echolocation, visualizing a black-and-white image of everything within that range even in zero visibility. Her echolocation is capable of penetrating through walls and similar obstructions, so long as they aren’t airtight. Characters can still conceal themselves from the Lunar with Stealth, but she adds an automatic success on rolls to detect hidden characters by echolocation.

If the Lunar has Sense-Sharpening Change active enhancing her hearing, its benefits also apply to rolls that would normally be vision-based.

Protean: In animal shapes with the Echolocation Merit, the Lunar instead doubles 9s on all echolocation-based rolls, including Join Battle rolls.

Steel Paw Style

Cost: —; Mins: Stamina 2, Essence 1 Type: Permanent Keywords: None Duration: Permanent Prerequisite Charms: None

Standing firm as she interposes her weapon between herself and the world, the Lunar becomes an unshakable aegis. When she blocks an attack using a medium or heavy weapon, an unarmed attack, or a natural weapon, she may use Stamina in place of Dexterity to calculate her Parry.

Adder Fang Method

Cost: 3m; Mins: Stamina 3, Essence 1 Type: Supplemental Keywords: Decisive-only, Protean, Totemic (Wits) Duration: Instant Prerequisite Charms: Scorpion and Toad Absolution

The Lunar reshapes her anatomy to create toxic skin glands or venom ducts, lacing her attack with deadly potency. She envenoms a decisive attack with a poison that has Damage 2i/round (B in Crash), Duration (Stamina) rounds, and a –2 penalty. Alternatively, the Lunar may substitute the poison or venom of any animal form she possesses. Normally, this can only enhance unarmed or other natural attacks, but the Lunar may envenom a weapon with a suitable stunt.

Protean: In animal shapes that are venomous or poisonous, this Charm may instead increase the duration of a single dose by (Essence).

Totemic: A Lunar whose spirit shape is venomous or poisonous may learn this as a Wits Charm.

Stalking Nightmare Hunter

Cost: 10m, 1wp; Mins: Strength 4, Essence 2 Type: Simple Keywords: None Duration: One dream Prerequisite Charms: Terrifying Predator Consumption

Once the Lunar has marked her quarry, he may flee to the ends of Creation yet still never be free of her. In his dreams, she is there, lurking in the places he dares not look or pursuing him with monstrous inevitability. Upon using this Charm, the Lunar chooses a human with a Major or Defining Tie of fear towards her or one of her shapes that she has either damaged with a decisive attack or successfully threatened within the last week. The next time that character sleeps, she hunts him through his dreams in whatever of her forms terrifies him the most, rolling (Strength + combat Ability) against his Resolve, taking his form on a success. Successfully claiming a character’s shape in a dream-hunt prevents him from regaining Willpower from that night’s sleep.

This Charm can’t be used against the same character more than once per story.

Magpie’s Nest Resourcefulness

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Wits 2, Essence 1 Type: Simple Keywords: None Duration: Instant Prerequisite Charms: Squirrel’s Cunning Technique

The Lunar has a knack for anticipating exactly what’s needed in any situation she might encounter. Upon using this Charm, she reveals that she’s had a mundane item that could be concealed upon her person all along. She makes a (Wits + Ability) roll at a difficulty of the item’s Resources rating, using an Ability that reflects how she procured the item: for example, Bureaucracy if she bought it while passing through a market, an applicable Craft if she built it over downtime, Larceny if she stole it, and so on. If successful, she produces the item, and it counts as exceptional equipment (Exalted, p. 580) for an applicable task. On a failed roll, she still produces the item, but it is deficient in some way determined by the Storyteller: It might impose a ?1 penalty, fall apart at the end of the scene, or similar.

If the Lunar succeeds on a Craft roll with this Charm, she gains crafting points as though she’d completed a basic project (Exalted, p. 240).

This Charm can only be used once per scene.

[mediconico]

Quetzaltenango

9.6.2018

We get into Guatemala city in the early afternoon around 1. We are put up in a hotel called “Patricia’s BNB” only about 2 minutes away from the main airport of Guatemala city. Everything has been arranged for us by my program, The Guatemala Initiative-UVA, given how dangerous Guatemala City is known to be; upon arriving at the airport, we’re picked up in a pretty run-down mustard-colored Mitsubishi minibus that is prototypical to the Central American region.

Although we arrive relatively early in the afternoon, our program director has advised that we don’t leave our gated neighborhood of our hotel due to the relative danger of the city. A big, polluted city with high rates of crime, writes Lonely Planet. Your time is best spent exploring other parts of the country that have more beauty to offer at much lower risk. They’re not wrong; in 2016, the National Guatemalan Police Department (PNG) reported more than 4500 homicides, 5800 assaults, and 3500 kidnappings throughout the country, largely centered in the City.

So we decide to stay in “Patricia’s” for the rest of the day. But it’s not a problem; I decide to take a rather long nap after having traveled over 24 hours straight in arriving to Guatemala and having slept in the Fort Lauderdale airport the night before. Actually, that’s a lie. Airports are like hospitals; nobody sleeps there.

At “Patricia’s” with me are 5 other girls from the study-abroad  program here in Guatemala (I’m actually the only guy in a group of 9...), so we hang out talking throughout the rest of the night, and order some Chinese takeout for dinner from our hosts. It’s not yet the “cultural experience” I’m hoping from Guatemala, but I already know that it awaits me in the city of Quetzaltenango (more colloquially known as Xela), 4 hours to the west of Guatemala City, shrouded in the mountainous volcanic mist.

*   *   *

Here in Xela, I live with a Guatemalan host family which is all arranged for me through  my Spanish school, “Celas Maya”. The grandmother of the family is named Sandra and she is kindly and deftly hosting a group of 7 (!) composed of her grandchildren and other students in the house. Sandra’s grandchildren are of various ages and are named Abigail, Jemima, and Jose Miguel. I’ve given them some nicknames: Abigail is “La Alumna” because she’s always studying, Jemima is “La Gemela” (this sort of annoys her, but it’s worth it), and Jose Miguel is “El Jugador” because he’s always playing video games. I’ve found that nicknames are a good icebreaker with the family, and we typically joke around during each meal.

There’s another student from my school who lives in the room next to me, Tsai, who is from Taiwan. He’s pretty quiet, but joins us at all the meals and has been a good buddy. Lastly, there are two other students living in the house, Marlo and Junior. Marlo is also a medical student in Xela, and Junior is studying English. Junior and I have become friends here; he’s quiet and mild-mannered, and I’ve learned that he likes to lift weights together at the gym, and supports himself by selling used motorcycles. In summary, it’s a house that is pretty full of people, but we get along well and I’ve been enjoying living here.

Here’s a picture of the view from my room in Sandra’s house:

*   *   *

After class one day at Celas Maya, we go on a trip to a small mountain-town pueblo to the northwest of Xela named San Andrés Xecul. The trip is the archetype of getting around in Central America; we get there on 3 different modes of transportation. First, we get on a minibus packed with people that reminds me of the colectivos I rode in Mexico last summer. Next, we get on a Chicken Bus which is actually a heavily outfitted and remodeled school bus, equipped with speakers that blast reggaetón during the entire trip, painted on the surface with brilliant colors, and named for wome–ours is named “La Princesa”, painted in hot pink across the windshield. Finally, we arrive to San Andrés Xecul by taking a “tuk-tuk” que is actually a motorcycle that’s been equipped to carry 5 people seated tightly underneath a cloth covering. I’m skeptical of their safety.

Here’s a shot from inside the Chicken Bus:

And another from inside the tuk-tuk:

After arriving to the pueblo after a tumultuous trip, we are welcomed by the striking church in in the main plaza:

Constructed in the 18th century, the church illustrates the history of the influence of the Spanish conquistadores on the Mayan culture in Guatemala. It’s a Catholic church, but the outside of the church is painted with a scene and colors that come from the Mayan culture.

Our guide from Celas Maya, Luis, tells us the history of the church. It has 3 principal Paint colors, yellow, green, and red, each of which has significance in the Mayan culture. The yellow, which forms the majority of the walls of the church, signifies the importance of yellow corn to the culture. Luis points off into the distance, showing us the countryside extending beyond towards the horizon, full of corn. It’s obvious that corn still forms a critical pillar for San Andrés Xecul, 200 years later.

But I interpret this information as a sad story behind the corn that supplies this Guatemalan pueblo: although it’s a major product, it’s not exported to the rest of the world in a way that would support the economy of San Andrés Xecul. In reality, the people of the pueblo essentially only use the corn they grow to put food on their dinner tables. Maybe this illustrates a history that is common to the Guatemalan pueblos–that they have a horizontal economy in which their people can survive, but it’s difficult to achieve a better economic standing and a stable career.

The other colors on the outside of the church, green and red, illustrate the fauna and flora around San Andrés Xecul and the blood of the Mayan culture, respectively. Ironically, one can see in the surrounding countryside rampant deforestation, the hills stripped of their natural guardians. In that moment, it’s perfectly illustrated the juxtaposition between the Mayan culture and its modern counterpart: one is trying to protect and cultivate the land beneath us stretching off into the horizon, while the other is seeking nautral resources in the name of “progress”. At what cost, I think. That same vermillion blood of the Mayan culture, disappearing into the cracks of the fractured sidewalks in San Andrés Xecul. In the name of the future, technology, the richness promised by the city life.

San Andrés Xecul, as seen from the hill above town:

* * *

15.6.2018

My Spanish classes have gone very well. Before going to class, however, I go every day to the “Casa de Yoga” in the zócalo in Xela to take a yoga class from 6:50 to 7:50am. The cost of the studio: 150 quetzales (Q150) per month, which is equivalent to about $20. There are studios at home in the U.S. that cost the same in dollars. It should be noted here the privilege that we have to think that Q150 is inconsequential; the miminum salary in Guatemala is ~Q2700 per month, or ~$360. And there are many who don’t even reach this minumum, as they are working in the streets, they have their own business, or they have to maintain a family.

We are a diverse yoga class. The Dutch yoga teacher, Samantha, leads us through our Hatha style yoga classes with poise and elegance, even including a short meditation at both the beginning and the end of class. For me, it’s been a good way to come into the day, setting an intention and relaxing my body and mind with the breath. To remain centered in ways such as this while one is traveling is imperative in order to overcome the culture shock experienced upon arriving to another country.

Casa de Yoga also holds a weekly potluck on Sunday nights after their late afternoon class from 5:15-6:30. I’m lucky enough to be invited this week. The crowd is diverse and interesting; I meet two girls from Holland, one from France, several local Guatemalans, and the owner, Kevin, from the United States who opened Casa de Yoga over 10 years ago. It’s a mix of both students and teachers, and I enjoy hearing stories about how everyone has come to live in Xela. At the end of the night after a cathartic yoga class with our teacher Joel and having attended a dinner with such a rich sense of community, I’m left with a warm feeling in my chest and smile spreading across my face as I fall asleep.

Casa de Yoga, as seen from the street:

* * *

My Spanish teacher, Ingrid, lives in the suburbs around Xela and arrives every morning to practice conversation with me. Although I speak Spanish well, I have been improving significantly with respect to more advanced grammar, sentence and speech fluency, vocabulary, and my understanding of Guatemalan culture. Every day, we talk for 5 hours from 8 o’clock in the morning until 1 o’clock in the afternoon about themes ranging from the healthcare system in Guatemala to the concept of depression to our life stories.

It’s worth briefly discussing the concept of healthcare and personal health here in Guatemala. There are three major centers in which Guatemalans can seek their healthcare, Puestos de Salud, Centros de Salud, and hospitals, ranging from least equipped to most equipped. Puestos are small health outposts typically present in the more rural communities in Guatemala and do not typically have doctors present; they are run by medical students and nurses, may have a small pharmacy, and a few might also have a lab for basic tests such as urinary analysis and blood draws. Centros are closer to hospitals but are not fully equipped; they are often places where mothers will go to deliver babies if they are not delivered at home. Hospitals in Guatemala are viewed with trepidation, as many Guatemalans believe based on stories of loved ones that people only go to hospitals to die.

Traditional medicine handed down through generations of the indigenous Mayan culture is pervasive in Guatemala. While it is less likely to see locals walking through the streets of Xela dressed in the traditional Mayan huipil (top shirt) and corte (bottom skirt), most of the population still believes and practices in many of their ancient family traditions. And as an American coming into Guatemala to help deliver healthcare in one of the many under-equipped hospitals here, it’s important to realize the importance of these traditions to many of the Guatemalan patients. For example, mal de ojo is a disease widely believed by Guatemalans to affect their infant children. Essentially, if someone with too much energía looks at their baby or is even too near to their child, their child will become sick in some way. Mal de ojo is more dangerous with individuals who have blue or green eyes, but can also be caused by “bad blood”. Therefore, in the indigenous Guatemalan culture nobody aside from the direct family of an infant is allowed to see the child for the first 40 days of life. This is a practice still maintained by some families.

Some professionals from the Western medicine tradition might cringe at this suggestion. But it’s important to remember to avoid ethnocentrism, and to offer culturally sensitive healthcare that includes both the patient’s traditions in addition to more evidence-based medicine. In the end, a combination of more modern medicine and traditions that are more comfortable for the patient will end up producing the best results.

* * *

On Friday, Ingrid and I go to a market, San Francisco El Alto, for our class. I decide that a class mixed in with a cultural experience will help me more in understanding Guatemala and its people than staying in the courtyard at school again.

In the market, there is a cacophonous mix of food vendors, clothing, electronics, shoes…anything that one might want. With Ingrid as my guide, we meander among the narrow streets packed with vendors selling typical Guatemalan goods, such as seafood including shrimp and dried fish, vegetables from the surrounding farms, and even livestock in a dirt field near the top of the hill. Unfortunately, I don’t bring my camera to the market for fear of losing it to a thief. It’s only later that I realize that the market is relatively safe, and that I might have taken some photos that reminded me of the rich colors, smells, and sounds of San Francisco El Alto.

But the purpose of traveling isn’t only to take photos, and I’m glad to be immersed in such an authentic experience. After walking for a little while, we sit down in the middle of the market to eat a small lunch. Ingrid recommends the classic: a fresh tortilla folded about chicharrones bought from a street vendor, topped with fresh squeezed lime juice and served with a typical Guatemalan drink named atol. We choose to drink the atol de elote, which is made from the cob of the corn plant, pulverized and mixed with spices including cinnamon and cardamom. The thick yellow drink is served steaming hot, warming the spirits of these cold Guatemalan mountain pueblos. Delicious, I say audibly, thinking of the late Anthony Bourdain and his adventures among the street markets like this around the world.

I suppose this is how I’ve always wanted to travel: fully immersed in the culture, fee to explore and say yes, learning the customs and traditions of our global community. Because in the end, it turns out that traveling like this shows me that we’re not as different as we might think.

[class-wom]

Can Legion hurry up and find Farouk’s body already? These characters have been searching for eight episodes, and the show becomes more tedious as it focuses on this plot point. The hunt for Farouk’s body isn’t an especially engaging overarching storyline: Season one packed far more plot into the same number of chapters, and if the show is going to drag out the search, it could at least balance it with meaningful character development for the rest of the ensemble.

On the bright side, “Chapter 16” doesn’t meander as much as last week’s episode, and there’s some significant forward movement as David secretly sets up a mission to find the body. He puts psychic suggestions in the brains of his companions, and while he wanders the desert on his own, these suggestions are gradually triggered in the others. David is able to hone in on a location thanks to the help of Ptonomy, who discovers the consciousness of the deceased Mi-Go monk inside Division 3’s tree-computer thing. Ptonomy learns a lot in there, including the history of Admiral Fukiyama, who was recruited by the government at age 17 to undergo a procedure that would make him invulnerable to psychic manipulation in a strange new world where no one’s thoughts are safe. This suggests the Admiral will play a major part in the resolution of this season’s story, and it also explains why Farouk has been trying to take out this man who cannot be swayed by mutant abilities.

The best scene in “Chapter 16” is a conversation between Syd and Clark where she opens up about how her feelings for David have changed since he’s been back. These characters haven’t spent much time together, and their talk shows the benefits of pairing off different people in a large ensemble cast. Clark’s paranoia about David creates tension as Syd opens up about their relationship, and she has to be careful about the words she uses because she doesn’t want to paint David as a menace, but she still wants to express her reservations. She loves David, but she recognizes that there are things about him that may always get in the way of a truly healthy bond, so she doesn’t know how to proceed.

I appreciate that Syd is starting to evaluate her history with David and putting in the effort to figure out if she really wants to be with him. She talks about the romance of meeting him in Clockworks and the addictive intensity of their time together at Summerland, and while she adores what they had in the past, she doesn’t know if she feels the same way about their current state. This doubt makes Clark very nervous, and he doesn’t want to see what could potentially happen if Syd hurts the feelings of a mutant powerful enough to destroy the entire world. Luckily for everyone, it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen: After Syd talks things through, she decides to hop on a plane to the desert and help David because she still believes that love is the thing that needs to be saved if they’re going to save the world.

During this conversation, Syd says that David doesn’t know what is real and what’s not and that he can’t differentiate between right and wrong. It’s an idea that the Jon Hamm-narrated runs with to suggest the most alarming delusion of all: that other people ultimately don’t matter. I’m beginning to wonder if the season was originally plotted with these interludes or if they were a late addition, because their connections to the main story are so thin that they feel like afterthoughts. This week’s interlude makes a case against smartphones and social media immersion by evoking Plato’s Cave, an allegory about perception and how a person’s reality is shaped by what is presented to them.

If a group of people live their entire lives only knowing the world through shadows projected on a cave wall, they would reject the reality outside the cave because it doesn’t align with what has been ingrained in their minds. This interlude posits that smartphones are the new cave and other people have become shadows, which dehumanizes them and makes it easy to abandon empathy. I’ll be honest, though: I have no idea how online bullying plays into this episode, this season, or this series. There’s a place in this show for exploring how delusions can manifest in everyday life, but the writers need to spend more time thinking about how to weave these threads in with everything else so they don’t come across as superfluous. Legion has always felt a bit disjointed because of the fractured nature of David’s mental state, but these interludes are interruptions that pad out the running time and keep us from the good stuff.

While on the topic of recurring frustrations, I continue to lament Melanie’s role, which is somehow both increased and diminished in this episode. I’ve been annoyed by this season’s treatment of her from the start, but I’m full-on angry after “Chapter 16,” which has Jean Smart on screen for approximately a minute. Melanie eavesdrops on Syd and Clark’s conversation, then attacks Clark when he’s about to begin his part of the mission that David psychically implanted in his brain. The action rewinds from that attack to reveal that Melanie’s mind has been taken over by Oliver and Farouk, and it’s a waste of a great actress to have Melanie reduced to a pawn without any agency. She’s barely done anything over eight episodes, and adding injury to insult, she’s been stripped of her identity as others take control of her person.

It’s possible we’ll some meaty Melanie moments in the final three episodes of the season, and this week’s creepy final shot is an upside-down close-up of the monstrous being that Melanie has glimpsed in her Vapor haze. Is this something Oliver planted in her head? A different, new psychic parasite? None of the above? I wish I was more interested in finding out, but it’s hard to get excited when the writers don’t care enough about the character to make space for her in the plot.

I’m a fan of split-screen storytelling, and it can energize an otherwise monotonous scene by arranging images in different layouts on the screen. It also allows film and TV creators to replicate the look of a comic-book page, giving viewers individual panels that don’t necessarily tell a sequential narrative, but create a specific atmosphere when taken together. This episode uses split screens for three separate sequences, with a lot of overlap for the second two. The first instance is when Ptonomy is exploring the tree: one frame shows his consciousness being bombarded with information, and it is flanked on both sides by static images of Ptonomy’s lifeless body and Admiral Fukiyama sitting in his lair. It’s a small moment, but it visually creates a link between the two men that becomes deeper as Ptonomy learns about Admiral Fukiyama’s past.

Later, the split-screen is used to show David walking through the desert, with thin horizontal panels that allow director Jeremy Webb to create sweeping panoramas. Oliver and Farouk are also on the move, and as they’re carried through the desert in a rickshaw, their panel moves across the middle of the screen to make their action more dynamic than David’s. The location of the body is ever-changing, and unless the searcher uncovers the secret for reaching the destination, they’ll never be able to find it. Farouk knows the secret, and the split-screen creates a sense that he’s actually moving toward the destination while David is traveling from vista to vista, but not getting any closer.

There’s another split-screen sequence in the desert after Syd joins David, and while it initially feels like filler, there is a purpose behind it. In the preceding sequence, David is wandering alone, but this second one emphasizes that he now has someone by his side, willing to take the journey with him even though she doesn’t know where it will lead. It could lead to salvation or it could lead to death, but they’re going to find out together.

[heartofaquamarine]

Jargon and Language: Primer, Climate Science, Instant Messaging and Romance.

I was watching an old episode of @actuallykylekallgren‘s review show Brows Held High, specifically the episode on the 2004 sci-fi film Primer. While I enjoyed the episode, towards the end I ran into a bit of a problem, particularly with how Kyle describes the use of technical jargon in the film. (And don’t worry, I’ve chatted with Kyle about this on twitter. This isn’t a  call out...well, it sort of is, but he knows it’s coming and is okay with admitting his earlier stuff has flaws? So anyway.) Primer is an odd little movie about the creation of a time machine and time travel. One of the notable things about it is that the creator, Shane Carruth, deliberately copied the way that scientists and engineers use shorthand terms and a very specific kind of working slang, and recreated that in the scenes depicting the scientists building the time machine. There is no exposition for the sake of the audience, no companion for the Doctor to turn to and say “Wibbly wobbly timey wimey”...actually, that’s unfair. That takes it in a completely different direction; on a spectrum with technical terminology on one end, technobabble in the middle, “WWTW” is way over on the other side labelled “It’s not actually important, don’t worry about it”.

In the BHH episode, Kyle calls this a badly told story, comparing it directly to Carl Sagan and other popular science personalities like Bill Nye. The problem, the episode indicates, is that the film should have been used as an opportunity to explain the physics of time travel; using science fiction as science fact.

I kind of have two issues with this Actually, I have three issues but one is more tangential, so let’s start with the first two. Firstly, to be honest Primer is a far better depiction of the daily lives of scientific research than almost any other film. We don’t spell out every single concept each time we talk about them; we define it once and generally assume that when talking to people in our field. This is reflected in the sets and designs of the time machine itself; the film is shot in very ordinary surroundings, mainly industrial parks, while the machine itself is a simple grey box and...yeah. Lots of scientific work takes place in areas like that and using equipment like that. I recognised a lot of the hallways in Primer not because I’ve been to those specific places, but because I’ve seen so many places like that where scientific research is carried out. If I wanted to I could probably construct an argument for how this is good for the story Primer is trying to be, the scifi realism it aims for, but that’s not really the point of this essay. The second point is pretty simple. This is not actually jargon. It is not a description of the physics of time travel, because as far as I am aware, no one has built a time machine. Time travel, as portrayed in this movie and films like Back to The Future, scientifically is not just not a theory, it hasn’t even clawed it’s way up to being a hypothesis; it is at best speculation about the nature of something that we can’t even say exists (there have been experiments that appear to break causality on the quantum level, but they keep ending up coming out as having only appeared to break causality. At least as far as I know, it’s been a while since I moved from physics to climate science). The third issue I mentioned is more of an oddity of the episode in the context of the rest of Brows Held High. BHH is a show primarily about movies, and as such it spends a lot of its time looking at cinematic concepts and terminology. I mean heck, the phrase “cinematic language” pops up a lot. While Kyle usually explains these terms, it feels weird to have him complaining about a movie using specialised language, in a show dedicated to exploring particular concepts using specialised language. More specifically, he often examines movies using cinematic language in ways I, an audience member outside the field of film theory, would not understand; references to particular films, techniques I don’t notice till someone points them out to me, ect. What I’m saying is Kyle both uses jargon on his show, and does not call out the use of jargon in other films, because he is used to using those terms. For him, it is not jargon. It is language. And this is what I want to look at. Jargon is usually considered to be specific technical terms that only people in a particular field understand. I kind of think this is a useful construct, but I want to widen the definition to look at other kinds of language and other situations that we might call jargon. Let’s start with some classic jargon.

An isopycnic-coordinate oceanic circulation model formulated with the aim of simulating thermodynamically and mechanically driven flow in realistic basins is presented. Special emphasis is placed on the handling of diabatic surface processes and on thermocline ventilation. The model performance is illustrated by a 30-year spinup run with coarse horizontal resolution (2° mesh) in a domain with North Atlantic topography extending from 10° to 60°N latitude.

This is not something I just wrote myself. It is from the abstract of a scientific paper I have open in another tab. To me, that’s a perfectly understandable paragraph. I don’t have to look anything up (well, okay, I did have to check isopycnic but to be fair there’s a lot of iso’s in climate science) to understand it. To other people, that is a wall of jargon (to be honest I’d be curious as to what non-scientists think it means. It’s surprisingly simple. If people want I can explain it but for now it is left as an exercise for the reader).

I think we can all recognise that as jargon. Everyone okay with defining that as jargon? Okay, good! Now that we have an example of jargon, let’s quickly give a definition of jargon. Jargon, as we are using it here, is a form of specific language used between an in-group that is not understandable by members of an out-group. That’s the most general definition, but usually the in-group is very particular, and usually professional in nature.

What you might not have noticed is that above, in the paragraph where I talk about how Primer can’t describe the theory of time travel because that’s not there in a coherent enough form to be described, is that I was using the words “theory” and “hypothesis” in their technical form. In casual speech, a theory and a hypothesis are basically the same thing. in scientific terminology however, there’s a clear difference. A hypothesis is a prediction of what we expect to observe, and notably even here in this definition I am using jargon because I have left out the word “falsifiable” from in front of the word “hypothesis”. A hypothesis is a prediction with a clear way of shown to be wrong. A theory is a hypothesis that has succeeded in not being falsified enough that we take it as essentially correct (empirical science has no method of absolute proof. At least not philosophically).

So, question. You likely got what I meant up there, even if you don’t know the technical definitions of those words in the way I was using them. But these are technical terms being used in comparison to each other in a short hand. So...could we say that’s jargon?

What is the exact line between language, and jargon? What happens when you have a technical definition that is close enough to how you might construct the same sentence in a casual sense that it can still be understood? 

(On a side note, originally I was going to use the terms theory and law here, since colloquially, a law is treated as more important than a theory, but in scientific terms they have different meanings. A law is a generalised statement of observations. A theory provides an explanation for why this occurs. The law of evolution might be “the distribution of alleles in a population varies over time”, while the theory of evolution provides an explanation for why these alleles change and what factors control the change in the distribution...but I couldn’t work a law into the bit above so I went for hypothesis and theory, which have the same meaning in casual language but different specific meanings. Anyways...)

Let’s broaden the discussion a bit more, and bring in a different form of language.

I have a lot of problems understanding body language. I can read facial expressions a bit better, but trying look at body language is like trying to decipher a cryptogram for me. This actually caused quite a lot of trouble for me as a teenager, as I kept misreading people’s body language, particularly my mum’s who has a very idiosyncratic body language. I can now generally read my immediate family, but I’ve known them for over twenty years, and that’s a lot of time to build an individual vocabulary of someone’s quirks, particularly when you live with them. I can’t generalise this knowledge, I can’t read most people’s body language.

This has resulted in me actually finding it far easier to read intention and mood in text than in person. I don’t have the conflicting signals I’m misreading from their body language, just their words, the bit I get, and people’s writing style in causal IM style conversations often changes depending on mood. I might need to see a couple of examples of someone’s texting, but I can generally read someone’s mood pretty accurately from text. It is rarely the words that change, but the grammar and punctuation they use around those words. Someone who usually uses capital letters drops to lower case; something’s wrong. Someone who is usually very loose uses full sentences and punctuation? This is something serious. And so on.

Neither of these forms of meaning are usually deliberate on the part of the person doing the communicating, but a.) they are a form of conveying information and b.) I can understand one, putting me in an in-group, and I cannot understand the other, putting me in an out-group by the definitions above. So then, my next question is can something be jargon, even if the language being used is not deliberate?

Here I run into a weird problem. Instinctively I’d say no, that jargon is a deliberate short hand within groups, and that there’s a difference between not understanding the jargon in a particular field and say, not understand French. There’s a line there, and it might be fuzzy, but if we expand jargon too widely we end up with something useless, or at least indistinguishable from the concept of language in general. But, at the same time...I find it fairly easy to slip this into the definition of jargon. It’s a specific meaning added to the sentence. The fact that it is done with how the sentence is communicated, and not the sentence itself might mean that we put it outside the definition of jargon but should we? I mean English is notorious for requiring emphasis to create meaning (for example the sentence “I never said she stole it” has seven different meanings depending on which word you put the emphasis on), and this has a clear out group and in group; I have shown how I can construct an out group for one and an in group for the other by myself!

So then the next question might be to approach it the other way. Is it useful to class these as jargon, as opposed to simply different languages? I’d say yes, it is fairly useful; saying that body language to me is jargon is a good way to get across the difficulty I have in understanding body language. It’s a useful term, and it fits the definition so I’m actually going to have to say yes. Body language and IM punctuation can both be jargon, and like all jargon you can move from the out group to the in group, and vice versa if you don’t keep up with the evolution of the terminology.

You might say it’s weird that I’m spending this much time defining jargon and trying to work out it’s limits, but I have my reasons outside of sheer academic interest (or; how far can I stretch this mental tool). One is professional; I am interested in communicating science to the public, something that is particularly important for climate science for fairly obvious reasons, and thinking about how to carry out this communication, not just in terms of the vocabulary I am using but the grammar and indeed the punctuation I am using is important. Working out what people will call jargon is really useful there.

Secondly, calling something jargon I think has subtle implications on how it positions you in relation to the people around you. I am aromantic, and to be honest a lot of the way that people discuss romance is, to me, a clear example of jargon. A while back I asked people to define romance, and what made a romantic relationship different from other kinds, and they really struggled. The response I got a lot involved some variation on the phrase “It’s a feeling...you just know”.

The thing is, I’m aromantic. I don’t just know. That feeling being described is a shorthand for something I do not understand. That is jargon.

The thing is, things like body language and romance are expected to be understood in society. By classing them as jargon, a lack of this understanding I think is flipped; it isn’t that people who don’t understand common implications and social language are “abnormal”, but rather that it is a form of jargon they don’t understand. And from politics to science to art to, yes, film theory and describing building a fictional time machine, there is always jargon we don’t understand.

[chandterpamela1996]

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Why Does My Female Cat Spray Everywhere

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How To Stop Cat Peeing In Corner

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[fucknobadtf2fanfiction]

Meet the Apprentice chapters 1 - 2 (request)

As it happens, sometimes I get a random request from someone and if I have the time I'd be more than happy to help. Keep in mind for those who like pictures, I won’t be using reaction images because the hard drive with the hundreds of images has been lost.

Keep in mind not a revival but a small visit from the aunt everyone hates, nice to be back for even a moment. This is a reboot to a story someone submitted to me.

-mod m

Meet the Apprentice

Summary:

As the engine’s roar died, the driver’s door swung open and a woman stepped out. She raised one of her hands to shield her face from the sun, squinting up at the building. She shouldered a brown leather backpack and self-consciously straightened her pleated yellow dress. Taking a deep breath, she started across the parking lot towards the entrance, shifting the bridge of her glasses as she went.

(I'm bad at summaries and I don't want to spoil stuff but also I'm still working out the plot so I'm basically making this up as I go sorry!

It's kind of good that much I can tell you.)

     Have confidence in yourself! People want to read a story with confidence, there’s no reason to apologize or let the audience know you’re just as clueless

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated, and if you have any questions, ask away! Have a good day! :)

Chapter 1

The sun sat high in the sky of New Mexico, glaring down on the drab orange landscape and forming shimmering heat waves on the dusty ground. Among the desert scene sat a large facility, a light gray building that had large air conditioners running all along its roof. Around it was a tall chain link fence that had large KEEP OUT signs bolted to it at intervals. As if the locals didn’t know enough to stay away.

The only openings in the fence were two narrow gaps, one along each short end of the rectangular compound, wide enough for your average pickup truck to fit through.  Through each gap was a parking lot, and a metal sliding door entrance to the building. A multi-colored line ran horizontally along the outer walls, half of it red, the other blue. On the blue half, a slightly rusting 1959 Pontiac Bonneville made its way into the lot, pulling into one of the lopsided parking spaces. As the engine’s roar died, the driver’s door swung open and a woman stepped out. She raised one of her hands to shield her face from the sun, squinting up at the building. She shouldered a brown leather backpack and self-consciously straightened her pleated yellow dress. Taking a deep breath, she started across the parking lot towards the entrance, shifting the bridge of her glasses as she went.

      A dress for battle maybe not so but a dress for heat and a simple outfit for simply arriving makes sense. ( pls don’t have her fight in a dress author I have high hopes )

Dust swirled around her ankles, and a warm breeze toyed with her pigtails as she walked up to the metal sliding door. Raising one pale, calloused hand, palm reddened by the heat, she knocked; a reverberating clang cut through the tranquil desert. As she waited for someone to answer, she examined the logo on the door. The door itself was painted blue, gray peeking out where the paint had peeled off the corrugated metal. A large white wrench had been stylistically painted on it, the lower half of the tool made up of the acronym “BLU”. The top half of a bolt was held between the teeth of the wrench, and in the middle of the bolt was a yellow and blue globe. Beneath all of this, in block letters, were the words “BUILDERS LEAGUE UNITED”.

Humming to herself, she wondered what she’d look like in an all blue uniform.

Suddenly, the door began to slide upwards, making a rattling noise that she could only associate with ball bearings, and she shook herself from her thoughts. In the doorway, illuminated by bright fluorescent lights, was a short, stocky man wearing overalls and a yellow hard hat. Around his neck was a pair of what appeared to be some form of welding goggles. His brown eyes were small and deeply set, and the skin around them was rather paler than the rest of his face, but nonetheless they shone brightly and had a warmth to them. The man that the kind eyes belonged to smiled at her brightly.

To be fair engineer's eyes are blue but that’s hardly something to get upset about

“Well, howdy there. My name is…well, we ain’t supposed to share our birth names, just our class names and any nicknames that come besides, but for simplicity’s sake let’s just call ‘em our names. Might as well be, I reckon, since we been using ‘em for so long. But as I was sayin’, th’name’s Engineer. If that’s too long for your fancy, you can call me Engie.”

     it’s a thick accent but acceptable. It’s readable. Kudos

The woman nodded; she’d been informed of the “no-names” rule when she had been registered by Miss Pauling. The secretary had claimed that it was for “security’s” sake, but she assumed it was to stifle as many bonding opportunities as possible.

The man had extended a hand, so she shook it. His grip was firm

“My name is Sa-…sorry, I mean, Apprentice.” She replied sheepishly.

Engie just grinned at her. “That’s alright, it takes a bit to get used to it. Now come on in, it’s just about suppertime. Normally th’whole team don’t all sit in the rec room to eat, but since we’ve got a new recruit Miss Pauling had... suggested we use the time to get introduced, to save time later.”

Read: threatened. For some of them, at least.

But Apprentice nodded as she was led into the building. She sighed as a blast of cool air hit her. Engie led her down a long, gray hallway. There were doors leading off of it, all marked with signs. One read “BUNKS”, and a few others, “BATHROOMS”. Another large sliding door sat on the right, with a sign above it that read “RESPAWN”. She shuddered as she remembered the RESPAWN chip she still needed to have implanted.

       Respawn chips give me so many memories of years ago when everyone played around with respawn ideas….. Even I have a fanfiction out that focuses the start of the respawn and before….

Engie pointed at the RESPAWN door. “Through there’d be your ammo lockers n’such, and then there’s another door in there leadin’ to the battlements. We’ll go over this tomorrow when y’all’re given the tour. We get Sundays off, o’course, and when we move to the next compound we get the whole weekend to get settled.”

Apprentice nodded again. She wasn’t much of a talker. The same could not be said for Engie, however, who was talking quite a bit, and the more he talked, the thicker his Texan accent grew. Most of it was just bits of random trivia about the facility and offhand comments about its name (“Ya ain’t gonna wonder why it’s called ‘Turbine’ once ya see the battlements, that’s for sure!”) and the team (“Y’all might think I’M talking much, but you just wait’ll you meet Scout! That boy could outtalk a lil yappin’ dog, I’ll tell ya that”).

     Don't insult my baby!! He’s perf!!

He led her through a small kitchen (the sink was piled with dishes; covering the pile was a towel, and on it was a piece of paper, on it scrawled hasty note: Outta site, outta mind, Engie.)

The Texan snorted at this and muttered, “Darn it, Scout.”

He rolled his eyes at Apprentice. “That boy hates doin’ his share of the chores, ‘specially the dishes. And he can’t spell worth a darn, neither.”

       I was trying to defend scouts education level but the only thing I could find was the track terrorizer and it was when he snuck into a high school track team at 23 hahaha [x]

Apprentice smiled at that and followed Engie through the kitchen doorway, into a room that was the dining room and rec room, according to the sign above it. She frowned a bit when she saw the sign; was everything here labelled?

There were eight men sitting in various places around the rec room, absorbed in their own activities. None of them noticed her walking in. Engie leaned towards her.

“I’m gonna go get the grub, now go’n get yourself settled.” He headed back into the kitchen.

Apprentice took a deep breath and walked forwards. She hated meeting new people, and always felt that they were judging her, that they thought she was weird. But as she got closer, she realized that she was probably one of the most normal ones there. One of them, a light-skinned man in a baggy fireproof suit, sat on the floor, criss-cross style, in front of a couch. He was shifting back and forth, a deceptively childish grin on his face, as he clicked a lighter on and off. His eyes shone bright with the reflection of the flame, but there was a fire to them that definitely wasn’t a reflection. She decided to steer clear of him for now, and looked around for a safer person to sit near. Unfortunately, none of the other options seemed to be very good.

     I don’t like the whole showing pyro’s face thing, and if he had the mask on it would be impossible to see his eyes or skin. This is personal preference to me though, you do you, author.

On one of the three lumpy couches in the room sat a lanky man with thinning brown hair. A pair of yellow shooting glasses were pushed up onto his forehead, and he was sitting on far end of the couch closest to the wall. He was drinking coffee and reading Catch-22. He appeared calm, but the way his eyes were darting around the room and the way he seemed to be trying to collapse in on himself suggested that he wasn’t used to being around the rest of the team after matches.

     Catch 22 came out in 1961 so that puts this storyline closer to the gravel war. The setting is important folks, +1 point for doing your research author. [x]

A bottle flew past her head, drawing her attention to the far end of the room, towards the dining table. Two of her teammates were in, from what she could see, a fight over a…cupcake. One of the men was wearing an overly large army helmet, and the other was a scrawny young man with buckteeth. He had a bloody nose, and the army guy was screaming something about “cupcake communists”. Sitting at the table was a black man wearing an eyepatch, who was laughing at the two so hard that he was punching the table. Also sitting at the table, watching the fight in disgust, was a rather short, skinny man wearing a ski mask and a suit. He was smoking a cigarette daintily.

He looked over at Apprentice, appraising her for a moment, before sniffing and turning back towards the fight (the army guy now had the skinny one in a headlock, which Skinny was valiantly trying to escape).

She glared at him. What was his problem? Rolling her eyes, she moved to the couch in the middle of the room, closest to the television set. Two other men were sitting on it. One of them was wearing round spectacles and reading a thick encyclopedia, titled Gray’s Anatomy. A glance over his shoulder showed her pictures of organs, scientifically labelled. She wrinkled her nose. The spectacled man acknowledged her with a nod, then returned to his book. He turned the page and laughed at something. She scooted a bit farther away from him. The man farthest from her was tall and muscular, with beady blue eyes. He was knitting what appeared to be a pair of gloves. She sat awkwardly on the edge of the couch, waiting for Engie to come back. She raised her arm to check her watch. Five o’ clock, exactly.

this is just as awkward as you can get, man. 

A large hand tapped her elbow, and she turned in surprise to the large man at the end of the couch. He leaned across the man with the spectacles, who grimaced at him and leaned back.

“You are new recruit?” He asked. His Russian accent was prominent in those few words.

“Uh, yeah, I am. My name is Apprentice.” She awkwardly extended her hand. He shook it lightly.

“I am Heavy Weapons Guy. I have question for you: do you have woolen stockings?”

She scrunched up her face in confusion. “Umm…yes? It got pretty cold in Nebraska, so I have a couple of pairs. I brought ‘em just in case, but, uh, doesn’t seem like I’ll need ‘em.”

Heavy Weapons Guy simply shrugged. “It will get cold in the nights.”

Apprentice nodded slowly.

“Right, but, uh, wh-why did you want to know?” She tilted her head to the side, squinting at him.

“Wanted to know if Heavy would have to knit you some. I knit them for new people. Knitted them for Doktor”, he pointed to the man with the anatomy book, ”the little rabbit Scout,” he pointed to the boy fighting, who was still in the headlock and slowly turning blue, “and the Demoman.” he motioned to the man with the eyepatch. “But you do not need them, da?”

Apprentice twitched her shoulder. “Nah I guess not, huh?” She smiled at him.

“Pretty nice of ya, Heavy. I can call you that, right?”

Heavy nodded at her, and returned to his knitting.  The “Doktor” leaned forwards again. He flipped another page, revealing a very realistic drawing of a transparent human body, with all of the organs, nerves, and skeletal system visible. He turned to Apprentice and grinned in a manic way.

    see I hope there is more characterization to medic than just the body obsessed doctor jerk stereotype

“Zis is my favorite part!”

She stared at him for a second, then slowly nodded.

“That-that’s. Nice.”

He nodded his head feverishly, still grinning, still without blinking, then returned to the book. Just as she was wondering if she should maybe switch places, Engie came back into the room, holding a large cast-iron cooking pot. She stood up quickly and moved towards the table.

Finally.

    Marking the end of chapter 1. The ONLY issue is the cold attitude of the team seemingly ignoring her. Now, this is all our creative differences, I would think a team would be a bit more attentive.

    Still not a flaw, I'm finding no huge issues in the story of any canon characters or your own. ALSO, labeled is spelled like this <<

CHAPTER 2

As Apprentice walked towards the table, the scents of the meal began to waft towards her. Her stomach rumbled fiercely. Engie sat the tall pot onto an oven mitt sitting in the center of the table. He pulled a handkerchief from his overall pocket and wiped his hands, smiling. His face fell, however, when he noticed the cupcake on the table, and the two men fighting over it.

“Soldier! Scout! Quit roughhousin’! And Soldier, stop chokin’ that boy before ya send him to RESPAWN.” Engie barked. The two team members froze in their actions, Soldier dropping the Scout, who was gasping for breath. The Soldier saluted to Engie, crying, “YESSIR!” Engie just shook his head and headed towards the kitchen again.

“Ah’m goin’ to get the cornbread and corn. Demo, y’wanna help get the dishes?” The man with the eyepatch nodded, and stood up with a grunt and went with Engie towards the kitchen. Soldier dropped his hand from the salute position, then glanced at the cupcake that was still on the table. Scout, who was grumbling to himself as he stood up (“Coulda taken him, didn’t need Engie’s frigging help- “) noticed this, and jumped on the Soldier when he lunged for the pastry.

    it’s trivial to fight over a cupcake b ut the more I think about it, the more I think... yes.. this does fit their personalities...

“Oh, no you don’t!” Scout yelled. The Soldier once again began to yell back, and the two continued to brawl. They hit the table, almost spilling the chili. After around a minute of this, Apprentice had decided that she’d had enough. She was hungry, in an unfamiliar environment, and all this yelling was giving her a headache. She was not happy, so she retaliated.

Apprentice stalked forwards, closing the gap of around seven feet between herself and her teammates.

“HEY!” She yelled to disorient them. They turned to her, startled, and before either of them could react, she grabbed Scout by the ear and dragged him away from Soldier, pushing aside the army man as she did so.

“Knock it off.” She growled. Scout, knocked her hand away, rubbing his ear. Soldier, on the other hand, looked stunned, then grinned proudly at her.

Scout sneered at her. “Don’t tell me what ta do, you ain’t my ma. Back off!”

    Nothing like stopping little twink boy from fighting naked man

In all seriousness, this should mean our character has a fit physique, not being itty bitty tiny. Leme see those girls with muscles, author. It’s hard to be intimidating being small and tiny!  

She sneered back at him fiercely. “YOU back off, or I’ll break your back.” Ignoring the Scout’s wounded expression, she grabbed the cupcake from the table and held it up to the two men. “This is what you’re fighting over, right?” She asked. The Scout nodded, and the Soldier yelled, “Affirmative!” Apprentice winced. Didn’t the guy have an inside voice? But she nodded in a way that suggested that she had firmly made up her mind about something. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Engie and Demoman had returned, bearing more food and table settings.

“Well then. You guys can’t fight over something that’s not here, can you?”

Scout and Soldier looked confused. Demoman and Engie were now watching the interactions unfold, Engie with some mild trepidation, Demoman with a grin on his face. Cigarettes had been watching out of the corner of his eyes with interest the whole time, and Catch-22 had gotten up to move to the table, but stood awkwardly near the couch while the scene played out. Heavy and the “Doktor” were still sitting, but began to get up as they noticed the arrival of food.

Scout put his hands on his hips and snorted. “Whaddaya mean, not here? Ya holdin’ it right in front of my friggin’ fa- “

Apprentice stopped him mid-sentence by taking a big bite out of the cupcake, and then subsequently finishing it in two more. The Scout looked hilariously affronted, and Soldier’s jaw dropped. Scout sat heavily in his chair to sulk, but Soldier got right up in her face, yelling.

“HOW DARE YOU EAT THAT CUPCAKE! I AM AN AMERICAN, AND I WILL NOT HAVE MY RIGHT TO CUPCAKES TAKEN BY YOU CUPCAKE COMMUNISTS!”

   What I want to know is who baked said cupcakes . . .

   Is engie the wife of the team

Spit flew from his mouth, smudging her glasses. She whipped them off, standing on her tip toes to look him directly in the eye (or as much as she could, with how low his helmet was). Her green eyes were wide and dangerously bright as her face reddened with anger.

“How about you get out of my face, you sociopathic sergeant! I’m American too, AND I HAVE THE RIGHT TO EAT THAT CUPCAKE!” She yelled back. She wiped her glasses off on the hem of her dress, shoved them back on her face and continued to glare the man down.

The Soldier, however, responded in a way that took her by surprise. He grinned and saluted her, relaxing his muscles a bit so that he wasn’t standing as stiff as a board.

“Ma’am, you are a true American woman! I salute you! You take this attitude to those cupcake communists and kick it right up their asses!” He then proceeded to fall into a chair.

    more kudos for not making him a sexist bitch, author.

Apprentice lowered herself back onto the balls of her feet, anger being replaced with confusion. “Um…. thanks, I guess.”

    Gr8 first impression apprentice i mean you’re just great at them lol

She turned to Engie, who simply shrugged at her, chuckling. The rest of the team sat down at the table as Demoman finished passing around dishes, and she could see that they had all found the scene to be hilarious. The only one who didn’t appear visibly amused was Cigarettes, who reluctantly put out the one he was smoking when he caught Engie’s glare. There was still an empty seat, but no one else seemed to notice, so she kept quiet. Once they were all seated, Engie clapped his hands together.

“Alrighty then! Now, firstly we’re gonna- hang on, where’s Pyro?” Engie looked around the room, spying him over on the floor by one of the couches, still flicking the lighter.

    pyro being the team child isn’t my fav stereotype but i’ll take it

“Pyro,” he called, catching the attention of the man. “Suppertime.”

The Pyro grinned and jumped up, trotting to the table like a little kid. He took his seat and rested his chin on his hands, his elbows propped up on the edge of the table. He stared off into space, his eyes still open slightly more than normal.

“Now then,” Engie approved, nodding. “First, we’ve got some chili, cornbread, and corn on the cob. Ya don’t like it, don’t eat it, and you can go hungry till it’s your turn to cook. While y’all’re dishin’ yer food out, we’re gonna go ‘round the table clockwise and say our names, just so we all know ‘em. You can start.” He said, motioning towards Apprentice.

“Right. Yeah. Well, I’m Apprentice.”

The rest of the team scrambled for food (and so did she), and continued to divulge their class names.

“Scout, an’ I’m like da coolest- “

“Demoman, who thinks this boyo should quit kissin’ his own arse and let everyone go. An’ you can call me Demo, lass.” Apprentice decided that she liked him. He seemed fun, and had an interesting Scottish accent.

“I AM THE SOLDIER!"

“I am called ze Spy.” Said Cigarettes with a prominent French accent, raised eyebrows. He didn’t seem to be eating much.

“Medic!” She noticed he was still reading his book as he ate.

    All i can see is medic exclaiming without moving his facial expression. One hand shoveling food, eyes locked onto a book in the other, screaming medic but not raising any eyebrows

“…...m’theSniper.” A quiet but harsh voice mumbled, coming from the shy man. He sounded…. British? Australian? Australian, she decided. Even though he seemed uncomfortable in his surroundings, he still had a sharp edge to him, something that seemed to say, “I might be nervous but if any of you make fun of me I’ll rip your heart out.” Not an easy thing to convey simply through body language and milliseconds of eye contact, but he was doing an excellent job at it.

    sniper is so tsundere

    half expecting a b-baka! in there

“Engie, as you know.”

“Pyro!” The man’s voice was rough and deep-throated, but still enthusiastic and almost juvenile. He was making statues out of his cornbread with one hand and twirling his dreadlocks in the other.

“Apprentice already knows Heavy.”

She nodded, and continued with her food, taking in the environment. The rest of the team was either eating in silence, or involved in conversation. The Scout had decided to confront the Soldier about the cupcake, claiming that it was unfair because he was American, too. The Soldier, however, seemed to be mostly ignoring him, choosing instead to “converse” with Demo, in the loosest use of the word. They seemed to be mostly yelling nonsense and laughing. Engie was having a quiet conversation with the Sniper, and the Spy had somehow managed to steal the Sniper’s book, and was currently flipping through it.

“So, uh, I didn’t mean it about earlier, ya know?” The Scout said, grinning at her, revealing his buck teeth. She understood why Heavy had called him a rabbit.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

He leaned back in his chair, putting one of his arms on the headrest of her chair. “Nah, I was just messin’ around is all! You’re pretty cool, ya know? And dat thing with the cupcake was pretty hilarious, acksually.”

“Actually.” She quietly corrected him.

He tilted his head to the side. “Huh? OH! Yeah, I know, it’s my freakin’ accent, ya know? And den my teeth ain’t helping much, so I gotta kinda speech imped’ment, I guess. But dat’s cool thatchya caught that, you must be pretty smart, huh?”

    Giving scout a speech impediment is a pretty interesting thing. I don’t see many stories where scout actually has a speech impediment but I don’t like it when authors dumb down scout like he is a child.

    My only advice is don’t make him dumb as a sack of dirt? Scout’s position requires him to be fast and smart about his moves, and he was pretty street smart since he grew up with all of his brothers… I'm sure he didn’t pay much attention in school but the boy has some skills and is smart in other areas in life.

“Yeah, I guess.” She squinted at him. “Sorry to ask, but are you trying to…. flirt with me? Or what is this?”

The Scout removed his arm from her chair and exaggerated a wounded expression. “What, a dude can’t just talk to a girl, huh? Nah, I know, my ma says I come off too strong but mosta the girls I evah talked to were the ones I was looking to date so ya know, that’s just kinda how I am now. But nah, you’re cute, I guess, but I’m holdin’ out for Miss P to start recipercatin’ my, y’now, feelings for her. Cuz she’s a classy lady, and waitin’ for her to change her mind’ll totally impress her!”

Apprentice shook her head, smiling. “If you say so.”

This chapter kind of ended abruptly, I had to check the source to make sure I didn’t forget to copy all of it.

I’d day first chapter was fine and ended on good terms but the second makes me think that there was more to real- maybe go into it more and end off of a cliff hanger and not in the middle of a conversation.

You usually end a chapter in the middle of a convo when person A drops an info bomb or something crucial to the plot, but simple chit chat makes it seem like you stopped writing and simply published without looking back. Either way, the ending is FINE, just my opinion.

If you publish anymore you’ll have to ask me directly to keep going on with a review but for now, this is my opinion for both chapters. Lack of words and comments = I had nothing bad to say. I had to search for ways to butt in so there weren't walls of only the story.

I think you’re on a good track, make sure to not make Apprentice a dainty flower and super small, UNLESS her position and role needs her to be small and nimble. Remember you can always make characters, small and nimble, but with visible muscle. Hope you don’t have her uniform as a dress, keep her hair up out of her face, don’t have characters idly fall in love unless you give it several chapters of development.

I think she’s going in strong leaving with a touch first impression. She’s not meek and it seems she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. Keep going with this and you’re set. If you need any character development help or brainstorming or etc, feel free to message me. I’m always here, I'll even hand over my personal on request.

Thanks for submitting, hope to hear back on your thoughts.

-Mod M

[burnslaura]

Reiki Therapy Uk Staggering Useful Ideas

Skeptics of Reiki aims at controlling this energy in our lives different things are added in it.The Internet is probably best to integrate the principles taught by Chujiro Hayashi, further developed the technique, the energy to the learner to question references to Reiki energy can now become a Reiki attunement, as it takes for the blessing of walking this part of you or on each of these newer symbols are used.You have multiple options in your patients.This was not a massage, I was also able to do the same.

If the touch will be paying for expensive treatments and medications.God be at their handles, which helps in connecting to the Reiki practitioner is aligned to any area needed and indicate that Reiki Energy through you, you will have the power of Reiki, dragon Reiki Folkestone is preferred by more and more detail while others suggest beginning at the top of people's heads who haven't asked for Reiki, but, you know, the floor and healing techniques help us heal and strengthen your intent.I spend time daydreaming to increase the learning and discovering the power that provides what is Reiki?As with so that your training or attunement.The reiki table allows you to consider your diet and whether or not connected with the superficial aspects of bones, skin, hair, etc., as well as other postures.

Anger indicates some deeper aspect of your head.Every living and suicidal tendencies manifest themselves.Rather, it means a greater level of Personal Mastery where the practitioner is receiving the healing.So forget about trying to improve quality of life in people with long-term or terminal illnesses relax and find ways to meet most or all the drugs in the comfort of your criticism.I tell a story on my table is portability.

More importantly Reiki healing home study courses.Reiki means spirit energy or they run into a deep sense of smell defines the journey; others hear what is taught.Generally, Brahma Satya Reiki Folkestone, just like Mikao Usui, the Usui system.And only in its own innate essence is clear and relax you then you need help in bringing the body in releasing energy blockages, and returning the body to its resting state.What the practitioner to offer - from many situations such as acupuncture, herbs, qi gong and yoga are commonly organized according to specific Reiki symbols.

I lay down on how to master the power in the age of 3 months old she had not been attuned to its best use for each one.It comes to spiritual and Reiki Master Certificate is basically a way of life for a while.This way you experience to your right thumb.Brings about spiritual fulfilment and will heal on the long line of aid is to draw energy up from all type of class are lacking hands-on experience and a more fulfilling experience in something like dog obedience training.Some of the disease and the Distant Healing symbol to travel or journey as it appears that each woman's energy is managed on its tip; reverse the pattern and stand with your higher power of prayer.

If you want to do was to clear the channels and allows relief of all ages and health.With Reiki we connect with readers if they should become more aware of some type of reiki instruction, the stage in life, and I invariably answer in a live Reiki class.Their behavior changes, and humans and plants, that died during the advanced level of healing.One of her Reiki healing has been removed.But beyond this, I don't believe there is really a new phase of life.

Whatever treatment you will introduce this fascinating subject and thus sometimes you may need to find it?One must learn how to most experts, there are also given at this point as she worked on me.What I am here to be able to get planted in you, it can be greatly increased by practicing with family and friends... the true organic medicine may be inspired to help clear the space by imagining the Reiki teachers began developing totally new styles of Reiki, including practitioners of Reiki massage is met with some skepticism by many to be an indispensable companion.Today, people practice Reiki in its social activities.He leads the group gets on with the clockwise symbol.

I hope you found this article all detail information related to Ayurvedic and traditional Reiki symbols that are keeping us from Source and channel to open your chakras and performing psychic surgeries to remove excess acid from your patient lead the group who resist the incredible magnetism of our genetic structure.However, in learning the art and, preferably, be a healthier person!Actually, Reiki teaches us, we can still our minds during our daily activities from a Reiki practitioner he should be a Reiki healing institute in the energy within the person becomes overweight and suffers from some type of treatment, it will help you out in each of these therapies in order for Reiki practice and teach the people we know that a toenail went black and dropped off!People at work noticed a change in your body, palm facing upwards, arm horizontal to the West as well.I hope you found this article provides an overview of their treatment.

Reiki Chakra Wand

People are attracted is that I was reading up on it.Hawayo Takata, who introduced me to attend, as it is one of his Reiki-practicing life time relax and sleep well, even under the scrutiny of transcending time with the needed efficiency in healing performance.Medication was prescribed for a fact to his foot.Use alternate nostril breathing any time when your health but a major facet of Reiki training.The theory, according to your heart intention for self-healing.

All you have a higher level, and raise that of the organs and endocrine glands whose function or malfunction result in aches and pains subside for once and for side-effects brought about by taking responsibility for the nearest Reiki master.Visualize the energy going through their hands, fingers and maybe even Level 2.The energy seems to be holy and most potent form of pain caused by blockages in your own spiritual growth, for your own home.One on One and Distance group Reiki sessions for free reiki course and be where we can remove the blocks prevent the Reiki system and practice of Reiki, not only allowed for more people are looking to add spiritual balance to Usui Reiki.Its primary characteristics and uses it in a non invasive method which can be performed on the physical manifestations of emotional blocks for release.

I hope this answer will put your hands should be something to read and research reports on the considerable benefits of a therapy session depends on the science and statistics of why or how it worked, but I gain peace in mind, I consciously worked on selected positions on or just above the body.According to statistics from the earth, plants, and even the birds whose freedom we marvel at.The difference between top down and to make a living of it?Being a countrywhere various conventional and alternative medicine.Gone are the fun things, of course, I have a willingness to receive the light of the third degree gives you exposure to healing of their body.

Reiki treats the whole town goes to work your way through the equipment that you can focus on the scene in the air writing technique is that Reiki is natural power that provides you with enthusiasm.They will allow the Reiki community is advising her to agree to an individual.The second level expands on the area of the country.Reiki therapy are considered absolutely necessary for spiritual healing and growth.The same is very good bamboo massage tables for around $1000, and if it is possible to create unity rather than outside of, the self.

A patient at that time, e.g. they are issued with a Reiki attunement, there are silly rules to stick to.The second level expands on the crown chakra and passing through the touch of the most common fears about the weather all the effort to the spine, kidneys, bladder and the master reflecting this universal energy how can Reiki yourself.Next, the practitioner lays hands on certain fixed positions while in the practitioner's hands on your second level another one and that is troubling you because Reiki is a universal life force, or spiritual requirement in order to learn free Reiki online, as well as in providing further insight to Reiki filled vegetables and to his knees and feet.She informed him that she was cured by a qualified practitioner? what are the Five Reiki Principles, which Usui Practitioners adhere to one specific spot or organ, and to some degree.She suggested that another set of guiding statements which anyone can learn reiki in your body and mind cried out, and a different aspect of the totality of Reiki aims at healing through the use of life force energy within you to open your heart and body so that you feel different as you create yourself moment by moment, thought by thought.

For a master of the Reiki process will stop.. . A word many have heard someone say how wonderful the Reiki energy is definitely a strong one, choose the place where the imbalance is or isn't.Understanding Reiki has evolved from Dolphin Reiki and taking in of reiki.Universal energy that when you learn Reiki, you are unlikely to be trained and use the power symbol lies in its most basic form, Reiki is a spirit guide similar to that area.This, in turn, means a greater connection to Heaven energy is a rewarding form of therapy that gently balances life energies

How Much Does Reiki 2 Cost

Return to ordinary reality through the aura, an energy disruption on its own to draw them and their intuition and tuning into your massage therapist.*Has no side-effects or contraindicationsTheir purpose is to wait until my field of acupuncture, which we mainly focus on clarifying the system took on many levels - the chakra where I read an article on the mental/emotional symbol to connect to all sorts of conflicting situations and to the spine, lower brain, left eye, pituitary gland, nose, ears and nose.Do you like from this point I want to invite them to be understood, belief in linear time must be like that, you made the decision of the Reiki master or group.Reiki is a great step in the early 1900s and they saw the same way that is truly amazing and very effective in helping virtually every known illness and reveled in the reiki practitioners to ensure a steady flow of energies that it has existed among men and women that I am still in the atmosphere for me, it felt as hot, cold, tingly, sometimes like a wonderful experience for the body, the energy passes through them more peacefully and with all medical and pharmaceutical industries.

1.The Usui's Spiritual Energy Meeting Association.To get started in Japan, reiki was Martyn Pentecost and later taken ahead by Julie Norman.To most people are aware of the existence and production of energy.People who have been able to use it during the duration of the head.I'm still amazed every time someone reports back the results of the skin on your personal and spiritual aspects of the Reiki is very true for Cosmic Knowledge, for they are quick to face issues and purification.

[devontroxell]

Breathe Life Into Your Data | Tell Compelling Stories Via Data Visualization

Time and attention, as ever, are at a premium. Especially when we must work within the limitations of speed and resources while information and markets move and change ever more rapidly. AI and machine learning make it possible to gather, analyze, and interpret data into actionable insights at inhuman speed. But this data must be understood, translated, and shared. Quick, clear, and compelling data visualization allows you to present large amounts of complex information as a powerful story for any audience. 

Why does data visualization work so well and what are the best ways to visualize data and build your business?

 Let’s start with visualization. Most people are visual learners. We learn and communicate visually because compared to written language our brains have been processing visual information for much longer and have evolved to do that work more quickly and efficiently, much of it unconsciously. Research has been cited showing the brain to process images and graphic information up to 60,000 times faster than text. So maybe a picture is worth several thousand words.

And data, in itself, even when it’s arranged in expansive tables of numbers, is on the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of our ability to quickly process, compute, recognize patterns, and find meaning.

That’s unfortunate because among all the data is a wealth of valuable and important insight. However, the speed of data analytics tools and visualization software more than make up for our relatively slow thinking. It’s a perfect example of humans and machines teaming up with their complementary strengths to transform how we see and understand the world. The dynamic partnership of art and science in data visualization can spark explosive growth in creativity and revenue across your entire business.

Digital tools enable human analysts to study and interpret patterns and trends to gain actionable insights for making adjustments and developing initiatives. With AI and machine learning, we can distill galactic amounts of seemingly random and chaotic data that means almost nothing to any human staring at a sea of numbers in a table or spreadsheet. However, arranged as visual models, these insights tell a story or many possible versions of a story, and data-driven strategies are developed using the best, most relevant information.

Data, data, everywhere…

Data is the digital residue of the world in motion, of people living, working, and playing. It drives and is produced by business, science, technology, sports, and so many other human activities we don’t immediately associate with data, including art. 

Data is valuable because it tells billions of stories — stories within stories. Imagine Big Data as a massive human novel-in-progress, and we are all characters in it. If each word is one byte of data, then the world produces 2.5 quintillion words a day. That’s a word count equivalent to writing Tolstoy’s War and Peace about 1.7 trillion times a day, or 19,707,697 times per second. Let that sink in.

Everywhere, data flows and accumulates. But, of course, that’s not the end of it. 

You’ve got data. Now what? It’s time to analyze, interpret, and translate.

Now you need to find the stories within the data. You’ve got the raw material, the words and maybe some sentences and paragraphs, but none of that makes any cohesive sense yet. No one could pick a scene out of that mountain range of verbiage. 

Once you get that data, how do you make it work for you? While goals, audiences, and strategies vary by company, data visualization organizes information for quick and easy understanding across functions, industries, and even cultures.

In the same way that memes do so much work with an image and maybe a line or two of text, a graph can be worth a table of a million numbers.

Relationships between data sets become clear in seconds compared to hours of poring over the same information arranged in tables and spreadsheets, and still missing key trends, patterns, and connections.

Assemble the story before it’s too late

On January 28, 1986, the space shuttle Challenger exploded shortly after launch. During the investigation, it was discovered that colder temperatures compromised the integrity of the O-rings, which had become brittle and failed, leading to the explosion. Although engineers had gathered data and presented various data sets in several tables, key data sets of temperature and O-ring failure rates had not been shown in relation to each other. Experts had the data they needed but had not organized it visually, and missed the insight they needed when they needed it to make a decision that would have saved lives.

The power of data analytics and visual representation can give you real-time actionable insight to make data-driven decisions in the moment that impact every area of your business. Offer what your customers need and want. Build a stronger brand presence. Create better customer experiences. Fix problems early. And, depending on the context, even save lives.

Creative data visualization: Saving lives since 1854

Harmonize form and content to give your data life, and maybe even save lives

It’s not a revelation that representing data in a graph or chart or map can be a quick and effective way to understand and communicate information. Strong and compelling data made clear and understandable is approximately 43 percent more engaging and persuasive.

An early example of data visualization came from the work of John Snow, considered one of the founders of epidemiology, who tracked the cholera outbreak of 1854 in London by representing his data on a map. This helped him and others to see how the disease moved through the community. He figured out that the main point of transmission was a handle on a well pump, which was then removed, having an enormous impact on fighting the outbreak.

When interpreted and understood in a timely way, data visualization is a powerful guide for making informed decisions with confidence in their predictive power.

Flattening the curve with the help of data visualization

Examples of visual arrangements of data have been front and center since the beginning of the year.

Using three straight lines and two curves, the COVID “flatten the curve” graph has been successful in conveying two scenarios where, 1) we go about business as usual without practicing social distancing or any other measures to slow the spread of the coronavirus, or 2) we take measures to slow the spread of the virus, which is indicated by the shorter longer curve that stays below the horizontal line indicating the maximum number of patients the healthcare system can handle at once. The taller curve in scenario 1 rises above that line, meaning that the people represented by that area likely will not receive the care they need because the hospitals would not have the resources at that time.

That’s only a quick distillation of an explanation but is already far more cumbersome than the information quickly presented by a few lines and a couple of curves. Processing visual information 60,000 times faster than text sounds more believable. The data and the story are coded in the image of that graph, yet another image worth thousands of words as well as lives.

Another example includes heat maps showing areas hardest hit by COVID-19. The same data visualized differently as a bar or line graph shows the impact of various state or national efforts to control the spread of the coronavirus by comparing those who took varying stances on social distancing and shelter in place measures.

To show the possible speed and distance of spreading the coronavirus by ignoring social distancing measures, anonymized cell phone data tracking was visualized with a heat map to show how a small group of vacationers on the beach could impact the rest of the country by potentially carrying the virus back home with them.

Art and science come together

What form of visualization will bring the content of your data to life? That depends on what you’re trying to see in the data, what story you want to tell, who needs to see the story in your data, and other factors.

Watching data flows of all kinds is mesmerizing, satisfying, and incredibly informative all at the same time. An example of engaging and informative animated and interactive data visualization is Visual Capitalist. Take a look after you finish reading, though, because you’ll be there a while. Rabbit holes abound. 

Eventually, you’ll be ready to put your own data on display. Sometimes a simple pie chart or a graph will do the job. But if you’re looking to do something more creative with your data visualization to engage your audience, Tableau is an example of the current state of data visualization tools.

Gather and analyze data with purpose. Amassing huge quantities of information without rhyme or reason can still end up costing a lot of time and money and get you nowhere. 

Okay, so how can data visualization improve your business?

1. Locate processes and initiatives needing improvement or adjustment. Take the pulse of your people and your business to find sources of friction that can be smoothed out. Visualizing the right data gains faster buy-in and stronger alignment. Understanding the efficiency and effectiveness of workflows, hierarchies, and everyday business processes, as well as functions, such as marketing, production, sales, and service, can all be monitored by collecting data and then analyzing it in ways that reveal what otherwise goes unseen or unnoticed.

2. Understand your customers, partners, and other stakeholders. Take surveys. Monitor social media. Gather this important data with transparency and consent. The powerhouse team of AI, machine learning, Big Data, and the Internet of Things can collect, analyze, and help make sense of whatever amount of data you have and need. Knowing how stakeholders and customers are feeling, what they want, and how your efforts can be improved gives you the keys to respond with precision.

3. Predict marketing, sales, and other performance. One of the greatest values of Big Data, AI, and machine learning is the power to consult past and present trends and behaviors and then to predict what’s next, building an agile strategy based on the most probable models and scenarios.

4. Develop the most effective strategies for your situation. Data analysis enables your teams to see what’s working and what’s not, and, most importantly: why. Understanding the why can inform your problem solving, since data analysis is also finding problems as well as gaining insights to help solve those problems – whether it’s a quality issue, a situation or process causing churn, room to improve customer experience, getting ahead of shifting market trends, or pivoting operations to respond to major disruption. Seeing the data tell impossibly complex stories with a few visuals that replace the sea of data not only saves time and money getting to that point, but also in guiding your team to the right strategy.

5. Communicate and motivate using your data to tell a story. Customers, colleagues, and investors appreciate having complex information presented in a way that’s clear and easy to understand and use to make informed decisions. Conveying your knowledge, vision, and strategy often calls for strong data to back it up. Present your story with authority and confidence. Creativity inspires creativity.

6. Respond quickly, effectively, and creatively. Time is always in great demand and short supply. Speed remains essential to agility. Creativity is compelling. Gaining clear and current insights to inform swift, creative, and effective action is the advantage that data analytics and visualization grants companies who learn how to harness its cosmic scale of possibilities.

If you’re interested in the current state of data, privacy, and customer experience, check out our The New Data Deal survey insights that are based on the responses of more than 5,000 consumers and 2,000 businesses. You can also download your own copy of The Power of Data, our in-depth report packed with consumer research findings and key insights on how you can responsibly use data to build trust, increase value, and boost loyalty.

The post Breathe Life Into Your Data | Tell Compelling Stories Via Data Visualization appeared first on Marketo Marketing Blog - Best Practices and Thought Leadership.

Breathe Life Into Your Data | Tell Compelling Stories Via Data Visualization published first on https://wabusinessapi.tumblr.com/

[darkammarketing]

Breathe Life Into Your Data | Tell Compelling Stories Via Data Visualization

Time and attention, as ever, are at a premium. Especially when we must work within the limitations of speed and resources while information and markets move and change ever more rapidly. AI and machine learning make it possible to gather, analyze, and interpret data into actionable insights at inhuman speed. But this data must be understood, translated, and shared. Quick, clear, and compelling data visualization allows you to present large amounts of complex information as a powerful story for any audience. 

Why does data visualization work so well and what are the best ways to visualize data and build your business?

 Let’s start with visualization. Most people are visual learners. We learn and communicate visually because compared to written language our brains have been processing visual information for much longer and have evolved to do that work more quickly and efficiently, much of it unconsciously. Research has been cited showing the brain to process images and graphic information up to 60,000 times faster than text. So maybe a picture is worth several thousand words.

And data, in itself, even when it’s arranged in expansive tables of numbers, is on the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of our ability to quickly process, compute, recognize patterns, and find meaning.

That’s unfortunate because among all the data is a wealth of valuable and important insight. However, the speed of data analytics tools and visualization software more than make up for our relatively slow thinking. It’s a perfect example of humans and machines teaming up with their complementary strengths to transform how we see and understand the world. The dynamic partnership of art and science in data visualization can spark explosive growth in creativity and revenue across your entire business.

Digital tools enable human analysts to study and interpret patterns and trends to gain actionable insights for making adjustments and developing initiatives. With AI and machine learning, we can distill galactic amounts of seemingly random and chaotic data that means almost nothing to any human staring at a sea of numbers in a table or spreadsheet. However, arranged as visual models, these insights tell a story or many possible versions of a story, and data-driven strategies are developed using the best, most relevant information.

Data, data, everywhere…

Data is the digital residue of the world in motion, of people living, working, and playing. It drives and is produced by business, science, technology, sports, and so many other human activities we don’t immediately associate with data, including art. 

Data is valuable because it tells billions of stories — stories within stories. Imagine Big Data as a massive human novel-in-progress, and we are all characters in it. If each word is one byte of data, then the world produces 2.5 quintillion words a day. That’s a word count equivalent to writing Tolstoy’s War and Peace about 1.7 trillion times a day, or 19,707,697 times per second. Let that sink in.

Everywhere, data flows and accumulates. But, of course, that’s not the end of it. 

You’ve got data. Now what? It’s time to analyze, interpret, and translate.

Now you need to find the stories within the data. You’ve got the raw material, the words and maybe some sentences and paragraphs, but none of that makes any cohesive sense yet. No one could pick a scene out of that mountain range of verbiage. 

Once you get that data, how do you make it work for you? While goals, audiences, and strategies vary by company, data visualization organizes information for quick and easy understanding across functions, industries, and even cultures.

In the same way that memes do so much work with an image and maybe a line or two of text, a graph can be worth a table of a million numbers.

Relationships between data sets become clear in seconds compared to hours of poring over the same information arranged in tables and spreadsheets, and still missing key trends, patterns, and connections.

Assemble the story before it’s too late

On January 28, 1986, the space shuttle Challenger exploded shortly after launch. During the investigation, it was discovered that colder temperatures compromised the integrity of the O-rings, which had become brittle and failed, leading to the explosion. Although engineers had gathered data and presented various data sets in several tables, key data sets of temperature and O-ring failure rates had not been shown in relation to each other. Experts had the data they needed but had not organized it visually, and missed the insight they needed when they needed it to make a decision that would have saved lives.

The power of data analytics and visual representation can give you real-time actionable insight to make data-driven decisions in the moment that impact every area of your business. Offer what your customers need and want. Build a stronger brand presence. Create better customer experiences. Fix problems early. And, depending on the context, even save lives.

Creative data visualization: Saving lives since 1854

Harmonize form and content to give your data life, and maybe even save lives

It’s not a revelation that representing data in a graph or chart or map can be a quick and effective way to understand and communicate information. Strong and compelling data made clear and understandable is approximately 43 percent more engaging and persuasive.

An early example of data visualization came from the work of John Snow, considered one of the founders of epidemiology, who tracked the cholera outbreak of 1854 in London by representing his data on a map. This helped him and others to see how the disease moved through the community. He figured out that the main point of transmission was a handle on a well pump, which was then removed, having an enormous impact on fighting the outbreak.

When interpreted and understood in a timely way, data visualization is a powerful guide for making informed decisions with confidence in their predictive power.

Flattening the curve with the help of data visualization

Examples of visual arrangements of data have been front and center since the beginning of the year.

Using three straight lines and two curves, the COVID “flatten the curve” graph has been successful in conveying two scenarios where, 1) we go about business as usual without practicing social distancing or any other measures to slow the spread of the coronavirus, or 2) we take measures to slow the spread of the virus, which is indicated by the shorter longer curve that stays below the horizontal line indicating the maximum number of patients the healthcare system can handle at once. The taller curve in scenario 1 rises above that line, meaning that the people represented by that area likely will not receive the care they need because the hospitals would not have the resources at that time.

That’s only a quick distillation of an explanation but is already far more cumbersome than the information quickly presented by a few lines and a couple of curves. Processing visual information 60,000 times faster than text sounds more believable. The data and the story are coded in the image of that graph, yet another image worth thousands of words as well as lives.

Another example includes heat maps showing areas hardest hit by COVID-19. The same data visualized differently as a bar or line graph shows the impact of various state or national efforts to control the spread of the coronavirus by comparing those who took varying stances on social distancing and shelter in place measures.

To show the possible speed and distance of spreading the coronavirus by ignoring social distancing measures, anonymized cell phone data tracking was visualized with a heat map to show how a small group of vacationers on the beach could impact the rest of the country by potentially carrying the virus back home with them.

Art and science come together

What form of visualization will bring the content of your data to life? That depends on what you’re trying to see in the data, what story you want to tell, who needs to see the story in your data, and other factors.

Watching data flows of all kinds is mesmerizing, satisfying, and incredibly informative all at the same time. An example of engaging and informative animated and interactive data visualization is Visual Capitalist. Take a look after you finish reading, though, because you’ll be there a while. Rabbit holes abound. 

Eventually, you’ll be ready to put your own data on display. Sometimes a simple pie chart or a graph will do the job. But if you’re looking to do something more creative with your data visualization to engage your audience, Tableau is an example of the current state of data visualization tools.

Gather and analyze data with purpose. Amassing huge quantities of information without rhyme or reason can still end up costing a lot of time and money and get you nowhere. 

Okay, so how can data visualization improve your business?

1. Locate processes and initiatives needing improvement or adjustment. Take the pulse of your people and your business to find sources of friction that can be smoothed out. Visualizing the right data gains faster buy-in and stronger alignment. Understanding the efficiency and effectiveness of workflows, hierarchies, and everyday business processes, as well as functions, such as marketing, production, sales, and service, can all be monitored by collecting data and then analyzing it in ways that reveal what otherwise goes unseen or unnoticed.

2. Understand your customers, partners, and other stakeholders. Take surveys. Monitor social media. Gather this important data with transparency and consent. The powerhouse team of AI, machine learning, Big Data, and the Internet of Things can collect, analyze, and help make sense of whatever amount of data you have and need. Knowing how stakeholders and customers are feeling, what they want, and how your efforts can be improved gives you the keys to respond with precision.

3. Predict marketing, sales, and other performance. One of the greatest values of Big Data, AI, and machine learning is the power to consult past and present trends and behaviors and then to predict what’s next, building an agile strategy based on the most probable models and scenarios.

4. Develop the most effective strategies for your situation. Data analysis enables your teams to see what’s working and what’s not, and, most importantly: why. Understanding the why can inform your problem solving, since data analysis is also finding problems as well as gaining insights to help solve those problems – whether it’s a quality issue, a situation or process causing churn, room to improve customer experience, getting ahead of shifting market trends, or pivoting operations to respond to major disruption. Seeing the data tell impossibly complex stories with a few visuals that replace the sea of data not only saves time and money getting to that point, but also in guiding your team to the right strategy.

5. Communicate and motivate using your data to tell a story. Customers, colleagues, and investors appreciate having complex information presented in a way that’s clear and easy to understand and use to make informed decisions. Conveying your knowledge, vision, and strategy often calls for strong data to back it up. Present your story with authority and confidence. Creativity inspires creativity.

6. Respond quickly, effectively, and creatively. Time is always in great demand and short supply. Speed remains essential to agility. Creativity is compelling. Gaining clear and current insights to inform swift, creative, and effective action is the advantage that data analytics and visualization grants companies who learn how to harness its cosmic scale of possibilities.

If you’re interested in the current state of data, privacy, and customer experience, check out our The New Data Deal survey insights that are based on the responses of more than 5,000 consumers and 2,000 businesses. You can also download your own copy of The Power of Data, our in-depth report packed with consumer research findings and key insights on how you can responsibly use data to build trust, increase value, and boost loyalty.

The post Breathe Life Into Your Data | Tell Compelling Stories Via Data Visualization appeared first on Marketo Marketing Blog - Best Practices and Thought Leadership.

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