#but never understood the disadvantage of classes

[littlelovelunette]

can u do that same professor sevika but make her 100% fluff with the reader after class and invites her to her home hehehe

Improving Percentages (5)

contains fluffffffffff

"Hey, Professor Sevika is waiting for you, she finished her other batch early, go on!" The woman at the reception table said and you nodded getting up and swinging your bag over one shoulder.

You walked to the end of the hall, turning the door knob and peeking inside, "May I—"

"Yeah, come in," Sevika said not looking up from your case study work, twirling a pen in her hand as she read through the lines of your answer.

"Thanks." You muttered and walked inside, taking a seat next to the HUGE atrium window which was usually curtained but a little gap of the curtains next to the seat gave you a beautiful overview of the city in the dark, the neon lights flashing, honking of busy cars.

There was something about people being so darn busy as fully functioning adults that made you wonder what kept them so busy and if you would be so busy too if you had a job.

Sevika put her pen down, taking a sip of her expresso and looked at you, calling your name.

"Yes?" You looked at her, tearing your gaze away from the city overview.

No one was in the class yet, it was just you and her, and usually she would steal a kiss from you but it was a little risky right now because any moment the other students could come in.

"Come here," Sevika said and you thought she'd kiss you but the moment you stood in front of her chair, feeling small due to her muscular tall frame, Sevika said, "I can see the seams of your bra, put a jacket on."

"But I don't—"

Sevika shoved a jacket towards you from her bag underneath the table, you smiled gratefully at her, "You're a lifesaver." You put the jacket on, making sure it covered where your dignity had been falling off from.

"Now let's talk about your paper," Sevika said, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to her making your breath hitch.

"I'm serious," she added and you giggled a little before nodding and looking at the paper she was marking. That was a lot of red lines...

"You did well, and the answer was okay but there are a few places you could've done better at," Sevika explained, "Like I specifically mentioned yesterday you were to add advantages right after mentioning disadvantages, yeah? Just do that with autocratic and democratic leadership, sprinkle in some words related to the stem and at the very end, conclude with your recommendation of which one is better suited to respective business." Sevika took her glasses off, placing them next to the pencil case

"Mhm... I understood, do you want me to redo the whole case study at home?" You asked, taking the paper.

"Yes, that would be good but it's not too necessary, whenever you're free," Sevika said gesturing you to go back to your seat.

The other students started coming in gradually and Sevika started her lesson, all the while you were back to thinking why Sevika was risking her career by dating you. It just seemed so... Sweet and dangerous at the same time.

You didn't want her life falling apart because of you and you knew you had to let go to save it but what if she didn't let go? What if she clung on?

You had never experienced someone ever begging you to stay usually it was just you trying to keep a relationship.

Class ended a bit later and as usual you stayed behind as the other students left. "Hey, baby, let's go back to my place today?" Sevika said approaching me and pulling me close to her.

"Mhm..?" You giggled and nodded, wrapping both arms around one of hers, "but what if we run into someone on the road who knows either me or you?"

"you thought I'd make you walk, princess?" sevika chuckled shaking her head, messing up your hair a little before she started putting her things in her bag, "make your way out and start walking okay? stop in front of the four-way main road, ill pick you up from there, it'll be safer." sevika mumbled as she continued tidying up her desk

"okay, see you soon," you said and walked out of the classroom, playing with the sleeves of your sweater as you walked out of the academy and pressed the ground floor button of the lift, waiting for the elevator to arrive. sevika was just so... different from everyone else you've been with, yet you weren't sure what you both were. more than just student-teacher or not.

after the elevator opened with a little ding you got inside, waiting patiently for the elevator to take you to the ground floor while you continued thinking about sevika. you had never really confronted her about what she thought the both of you were and she didn't seem like the person who was into labelling relationships...

but given how no-nonsense her attitude usually was you were almost sure she wouldn't play around with someone's feelings.

with a small sigh, you walked out of the elevator and the cold hair hit your exposed skin making you shudder a little. as you walked out of the building you realised it was already dark outside, you took your phone out and checked the time.

it wasn't too late, but eitherway you texted your mother with a simple "i'll be at professor sevika's house for an extra class planned early today, she won't be available for mondays lessons that's why."

you read the text over and over to make sure there were no loops before starting to slowly start walking towards the four-way road sevika had told you to stop by at. the air was cold, blowing your hair out of your face and making you shiver a little. the roads were busy as usual, speeding cars and people trying to cross the road, but the only sound you could focus on was the sound of your footsteps against the concrete as you walked.

you didn't wait for too long after reaching the four-way road because you saw a car slow down in front of you making you blush slightly. you took a look around to make sure no one was around before you got inside the passenger seat with a little smile.

"nice ride," you complimented

sevika smirked a little hand travelling to rest on your thigh, "uh-huh, you like it huh?" she continued driving through the traffic

"i told my mother that i was gonna be at yours for extra class because you won't be available on Monday." you informed making sevika chuckle a little.

"little liar." sevika said as she gave you a little smile, a rare sight usually.

"i've been meaning to ask you something." you said wringing your hands in mild anxiety, looking over at sevika to see her facial expression every once in a while.

"go ahead, doll." she said blankly her voice betraying close to no emotion

"so i've never really— um— what i meant to ask was what are we?"

a silence enveloped the normal chatter in the car and you could see sevika's eyes trying to fix themselves on the road.

"well, what do you think we are?" sevika retorted.

"i don't know, i just, it's so weird because i take you as a respectable lady who would always put her career up first before anything and everything else so you dating me, your student, is a bit uncharacteristic and... absurd." you paused before adding, "but that doesn't mean i put you past it i think if you do love someone passionately there's no stopping in that and i won't... hold it over you if you say you're not ready for something like a relationship or want to keep it casual. i just— it would be nice if... it was a mutual thing." the ending of your words were beyond dumb and a little awkward

sevika laughed her voice a deep rumble from somewhere within her chest but the tone? you couldn't exactly place it "you take me for a fool, dolly?"

"what? no!—"

"you're mine. there is no other label for it. it's not casual, it's not a fling, it's not absurd. you're mine and that's that," sevika said with a little edge to her voice.

"so are we—?"

"lovers? heck yeah. girlfriends? fuck yes." sevika cut you out as she continued driving, "i can't believe you'd take me for the player type."

"im sorry I just..." you trailed off looking out of the window, "i guess i don't have the cleanest dating history is all."

sevika parked in front of a relatively pretty apartment, the gardens, the plants, flowers decorated the huge terraces of each floor. it was beautiful, the wooden decorations paired with thick, huge glass windows... looked like something straight out a Pinterest board.

"look at me." she said her voice an octave quieter

you looked at sevika, biting your bottom lip nervously for a bit before releasing the now reddened lip

"you matter to me. your feelings matter to me. i don't know what you dated before. but you're single now so i just know it wasn't a commitment at least from their part. but im here to stay. whether we fall off or not im here to stay okay? don't let me catch you ever thinking otherwise." sevika said gently which was absolutely out of character from the usually sharp, stern sevika you knew

"mhm... i love you, sevika." you smiled

"i love you too angel." she returned the smile and sevika got out of the car, walking around and opening the door for you so could step out too as the both of you made your way across the huge expensive garage and to an elevator that was ten times bigger than the one at the academy

"you're damn rich," you muttered and sevika laughed, "i like keep things quality."

as you both got in the elevator and sevika pressed the button for her apartment unit, you stared at the taller woman, studying her facial features. you knew this was probably gonna be the healthiest relationship you've ever had even if... it wasn't the most ethical one so far.

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

Today, the country indeed looks alien. The America many of us believed we knew now appears stranger in retrospect: The anger and resentment we may have thought was pitched at a simmer turned out to be at a rollicking boil. And one of liberals’ most cherished shibboleths from 2016—that Trumpism is a movement for aggrieved white men—unraveled in the face of a realignment that saw the GOP appear to give birth to a multiracial working-class movement. A second Trump presidency is the result of this misjudgment.

Democrats are a coalition party of the center-left

The Left has traditionally been associated with egalitarianism, which is by necessity concerned with the masses, the common people, the working class, but also the dispossessed, the marginalized, the disadvantaged

The modern Democratic party traces its roots most directly to the New Deal coalition of the 1930s, which it understands to have been a robust working-class and labor-rights movement

They also see themselves in the 1960s cultural revolutions and their repudiation of hierarchy, itself generally seen as the position of the common person, the masses, but also the dispossessed

The party takes its name from Andrew Jackson, great champion of the Common Man, at least as understood at his time, but it goes back to Thomas Jefferson, famous for declaring that "all men are created equal," and now excoriated for failing to live out that egalitarian principle

The Democrats are a party for the people, understood as capaciously as possible, the party that repudiates narrow nationalism and jingoism, in favor of spreading the benefits of American society widely, in opposition to favoring the privileged few

Why am I reminding you of all these things that you already know?

Because they believe so deeply that they are right in every way that matters, or at least incomparably superior to their opponents, they cannot begin to imagine repudiation from the very people in whose interests they thought they were acting, let alone in favor of the very person they swore was an existential, even murderous threat to those very same people

I think to appreciate the sensation, you might imagine a thief broke into your home, and then your family kicked you out in favor of the thief; someone broke in to ravish your spouse and they called the police on you; a sex offender told your children explicitly what he wanted to do them, and your children fought you to get out of your arms so they could crawl into the van knowing full well they'd never see you again

The shock is so existentially horrifying, such a betrayal of reality itself, that it would require rethinking all your most basic assumptions about the political order, human beings, and worst of all, yourself. Why would they do such a manifestly insane thing? Is there something I don't know? What did I miss? What did I do wrong? What do I do now?

Democrats cannot meaningfully internalize that they are the party of the privileged and the elite, by their own philosophy they are themselves the enemy, they write a blank check for the most lurid excesses of anti-colonial violence and call it "exhilarating" without dealing with the fact that given their assumptions, in this society, they are the power and not the resistance

But it's hard to ask yourself these kinds of questions and most people don't have the nerve for it, and so what we see instead, in another little paradox of human nature, is they're going to blame not the ravisher but the spouse

TL;DR, self-examination is hard, so now Democrats hate Latinos

[da-janela-lateral]

Mezato is a very intriguing person despite her position as a side character restricting the audience's knowledge on her, but there are some implications I have become very interested on.

During her conversation with Ritsu post-LOL Cult arc, she mentions something akin to "people really aren't born as equals", referring to how Mob is so disadvantaged compared to Ritsu even thought they're siblings. However, that also says a lot about her motivations. Mezato has two main reasons for organizing the Psycho Helmet Cult and trying to make it influent (with Mob's help as their messiah): 1) it sounded fun; and 2) she wanted to take part in such a massive event. Although the "fun" part can be attributed to the fact that well, she is a fourteen year old with a weird perspective, both motivations are directly associated to not only Mezato's passion, but her opinion on herself.

First of all, she becomes fixated on anything that appears worthy of her attention. It kickstarts her adventures as the school journalist, hunting for any kind of news that she believes to be interesting, and by that she doesn't mean "math class is cancelled": Mezato goes far beyond, from catching shoplifters red-handed to infiltrating a cult that supposedly brainwashes its members. It's clear that the mundane is not enough to her. Mezato wants the current biggest thing. This is one of the reasons she gets so interested in Mob, and being so obsessed with the worldchanging, Mezato cannot bring herself to care as much about the common, the mundane. This way, she can only see entertainment, or better put, value, in what stands out.

Equally, Mezato wants to participate in something she sees as 'big'. Being someone who is so attracted to the flashiest parts of reality, she wants to have an active, direct role regarding them. It makes her feel entertained. It makes her feel fulfilled. It makes her feel special, most of all, because even being in the Biggest Thing's shadow removes her from the condition of banality she disdains so much. That's what makes the Psycho Helmet Cult sound like such an excelent idea, as hollow and uncritical it could be.

But what does these beliefs say about Mezato? Simple. Mezato doesn't think she can be interesting or valuable by herself. She is not shown as pretty, or academically gifted, or athletic. She doesn't appear to have friends. She doesn't even have an ability with the occult like Mob does. Mezato is a normal, lonely girl who has no other excuse to be noticed besides her imprudent detective work, but worse than that, she thinks she can't change. Mezato will never be attention-worthy as herself, so she appeals to inserting herself in whatever interesting thing she finds in the hope that it'll make her Someone by association. She could be a loser, a nobody, but at least she helped build something that is wonderful, and that is the closest she can get to being important.

Her interests and achievements, in this sense, are more like an extension of herself than a result of her passion. A passion that isn't understood by anyone else. A passion that others ignore and are annoyed at, which only reinforces her loneliness and her obsession with chasing after Big Things. If she succeeds, she will finally have a part of herself she can be proud of. After all, there are a hundred wonders in the world with the potential to change everything; there is only one Ichi Mezato and she can never be like them.

[luulapants]

Luula! I saw your reblog post about taylor swift and billie eilish and audio processing with white girls singing pop, you know the one I mean? You tagged it with don't make me go sociolinguistics on your ass....

I am asking (out of sheer curiosity and genuine interest) please go sociolinguistic on their asses.

I want the explanation on why I don't understand rap...

Please thank you 🙏

Hey, anon! Honestly, good on you for asking the question.

The short answer on why you don't understand rap is pretty simple: it's because you don't listen to rap.

The long answer starts with this premise: all natively spoken human languages and dialects are created equal.

No language is easier or more difficult for an infant to learn - there may be a more stringent academic standard, but as for the basic language that people speak, any child can learn any human language with equal ease*. No language intrinsically sounds more or less appealing or sophisticated; any such judgment is based on how you were socialized to feel about the people who speak it.

(*the obvious exception to this rule is physical limitations, such as the ability to hear (Deaf children will struggle with vocal languages compared to sign) or a speech impediment (a language without 'th' will be easier for a child with a lisp).)

I don't know what dialect of English you speak, but I'm making a leap to assume it's a white dialect adjacent to Standard American English (SAE). If that's correct, try giving this a listen:

This is much easier for most white people to understand not because MC Lars enunciates better - he's speaking quite quickly - but because he's rapping in a very standardized white American dialect, which is probably familiar to you. Compare to this song by Denzel Curry:

This is slower - fewer words per minute - than the MC Lars song, but I'm guessing it was harder for you to understand, because Denzel Curry speaks Black American English (BAE), a dialect you probably don't understand well.

There's a prominent perception in the US, not said as openly as it once was, that BAE is "broken" English, or English poorly spoken rather than a distinct dialect. I can't tell you how many white people have told me they tried to watch HBO's The Wire but "couldn't understand it" because the characters "don't enunciate." The characters enunciate fine, but they speak a BAE dialect white people are rarely asked to listen to. I'll admit, it took me a little while to get my ear around that particular Baltimore variety, too, but after an episode or two of working at listening, I got the hang of it just fine.

That's sort of the crux of the matter, though: who do we believe is worth our time and effort to learn to listen to?

Most Black folks in the US could understand that MC Lars song, because most Black folks in America are biglossal - they speak both the BAE they grew up with and the SAE they had to learn in school. Black children are put at an enormous disadvantage when they are forced to learn a new dialect on top of their other school work. Non-English speakers get special supplementary classes when they enter school - BAE speakers are made to figure it out on their own. Then, throughout their life, they're expected to "code switch," switch dialects, when they need to be understood by a white person. Society tells them it's essential to put in the effort to learn to understand and speak SAE.

White people are almost never expected to even understand BAE. Most white Americans easily learn how to understand British English, though. Most will feel as though they didn't actually work to learn it, that it came naturally. There is absolutely no practical reason British English should be an easier shift from SAE compared to BAE, except that white British people enjoy a level of privilege that makes the effort of tuning one's ear feel expected.

There's something to be said about the fact that the things many rappers - Black rappers and rappers of other minority backgrounds - are rapping about will not speak to your experience. You may feel like you can't relate to Kendrick Lamar the way you can relate to Chappell Roan, but honestly how many white girls on tumblr are rocking out to "Pink Pony Club" who have NEVER been to the club? And how many more could absolutely relate when Lamar says in "PRIDE.":

Now, in a perfect world, I probably won't be insensitive Cold as December but never remember what winter did I wouldn't blame you for mistakes I made or the bed I laid Seems like I point the finger just to make a point nowadays

And, yes, there are references and turns of phrase that you'll need to go look up. We do that for all sorts of things. Did you read Shakespeare in school? Weren't there footnotes telling you what it meant? Have you ever looked up a list of words that are different in British and American English? Don't you know that Taylor Swift's "All Too Well" is about Jake Gyllenhaal even though he's never mentioned?

I will again refer to Claire Vaye Watkin's On Pandering, in which she observes that people on the periphery - social and racial and gender minorities - learn to appreciate the things that the privileged - straight white cis men - tell them is art. How many great works by rich white men have you stretched yourself to find meaning in, even when they don't really speak to you as a person at all? And why are you not willing to stretch that same way in the direction of the less privileged? Why can spend the time and energy to find universal meaning in the works of Dickens but not in the works of The Notorious B.I.G.?

The fact that you can't understand rap has nothing to do with rap and everything to do with you, your socialization, your values, and the culture you were raised in. You don't understand rap because you haven't learned how to understand rap. You haven't learned how to understand rap because you don't think it's valuable enough to justify the effort. You don't think it's valuable because you don't think Black culture and Black language and Black artists are valuable.

You don't understand rap because you don't listen to rap.

[phalangemedes]

CAMPAL LIT ANAL 🔥🔥🔥

To start off with, a personalised character debrief, of sorts, so the nonsense I'm about to spout stems from my known perception of them rather than just inherent batshit:

PALAMEDES SEXTUS: Tall ergo mouse faced man with the jokes and no brain shut off button. Burdened with gifted kid ego AND gifted kid guilt. Disabled even for a necromancer (not genetic turbo cancer for the nuke blast creation of thanergy but allergies, aerospace thick specs, lingering hint of the 'tism (social cues whomst, Mr that evil nun who thinks I'm a murderer is now my BEST FRIEND. Decided he was going to marry a girl because he liked that she was puzzley. His life partner is low emotive and he's never noticed.) (RE:marry Dulci the man is a glutton for a hyperfixation. 12 years and he's like 'we'll be married, Cam's my best man, I love them')). Bred for necromantic psychometry and groomed for Wardenhood (I used "groomed" because he was a literal child when they lauded his intellect as sufficient enough to egregiously test him to see if he was worthy of the title of Master Warden (spoilers, a 13 year old is a tiny baby child, no matter how cute, clever OR smug they are) This neatly slots into the "gifted kid" issues in that his parents ALLOWED this to happen, nay, encouraged it as an accolade. So I wouldn't say he was actively abused, but neither was he "cared" for, which is prime reason as to why he latched onto the only emotionally available peer AND was self sacrificial to a scary fault (re: ka-boom)

CAMILLA HECT: Tall TANK with too much inside to contain without fidget. Burdened with an inferiority complex 20 miles wide and a dunces hat of imposter syndrome. (Some of this is that The Sixth don't really respect swordhands, some of it is that in the capacity they DO respect it, she isn't ranked the most highly (RE: Not an Alexandrite. I assume Epeids? Cause she will class herself as competent and I think the Sixth aren’t stupid enough to put her in the spec ed class once she’s a Cav Prime.) Low EXTERNAL emotion, high energy, Palamedes is patently the words and she's happy with that. (As we go through HtN and NtN it reads more and more like alexithymia, more so when she just finally bursts the fuck into tears). Focuses a little too hard on being "useful", to the point and beyond of harm/self harm. Treats loyalty in a similar manner. A 0% or 100% kinda bitch. Close with her sister, but NOT her fathers, which is an interesting one because we have minimal backstory on that one, but it very much READ as a "forbidden" thing to be with Palamedes not just in the act of lyctorhood ascension but a 'They never understood' way. So her choosing to be Cavalier Primary was her choice AGAINST the wishes of other, societally and inter-familially.

ADDENDUM to Cam: She is a Carer, not in a motherly carer role, a Carer with a capital C. She cares for those with disadvantages in a MANNER I have witnessed IN the caring profession. This is MOST notable in the dynamics with Nona but she does the same with Pal. Where Pyrrha gives Nona fun dad treatment, with no less care, and Palamedes is the voice of gentle reason, consent and options, Cam is loving enforcement and active encouragement. It’s a theme. I’d like it highlit to those of you that have never had one or interacted in what is a COMPLICATED dynamic, a Carer is not a SERVITOR, they are a companion, they see you at your weakest and tackle ills with compassion. Is it a CHOSEN role.

Likewise Cam being raised female and not necromantically inclined (on planet eugenics and Your Eggs Are So Useful To Us BabyGirl) has just had humility beaten into her, but there are various places (Dr Sex coming to mind the most vividly, Pal trusting her with reconstruction of his skeleton, him trusting her opinion on things HE is looking at necromantically) where she is AS bright as him, but is not afforded the same societal perks as him as a necro.

tl;dr

Golden boy brain box who is struggling to live up to it, doing anything to be Good Enough. Held together by Cam's trust in him.

Black sheep who is struggling to perceive herself as worthy, doing anything to be Good Enough. Held together by Pal's faith in her.

Cool, we got it? ONWARD.

GENDER; PERCEPTIONS AND CHANGES:

Pre-Canaan through Canaan:

Palamedes Sextus, Master Warden of The Sixth House is a seeker of knowledge, his pronouns are forgot/to/eat (j/k.) I don't think he perceives himself as much of anything, until he's forced to. He is a man as The Master Warden and for Dulcinea, but I wonder how much of that is the "breeding program" ethos of the Sixth and how much of that is his OWN perception of himself because he's not a TRADITIONAL feeling man, even compared to other men in the canon. When I joke he's a he/him lesbian it's because he FEELS, not female, but feminine. In how he interacts with space and people, with the touchy-feeliness, with the way he expresses himself vociferous and poetically. 'Male' to him seems to be a mantle he wears above the neutrality of who he is and the femininity of his affections.

Camilla Hect, Hand of the Library, is a swordswoman and a cavalier and a hand. Cam is beautifully ungendered, but not in the same way as Palamedes is more of a... I feel like she'd be shocked to be told there's a binary? Just generally. She's practical, but butch, she's just Camilla. A she/her in the same way as a ship or a car. Not like a mother but like a deity -- and THAT is from Palamedes' perception of her. If he's a good boy, she's the Goddess he lays his altar out for. She’s not a ‘woman’ for anyone, not her house, not him. I think that’s important.

New-Rho:

I know there're alotta trans allegories here, but I'm gunna be a party pooper and say this is QUEER but not trans, not because it doesn't follow the path but because I don't think there is a Tomb binary to start with. There's a fluidity and flux IRL doesn't have (because people like their lil ticky boxes). And Pal doesn't feel different IN Cam, he feels the same. More him. He's more outwardly affectionate, he's more fussy and stroppy. He's him but Settled. I think he likes being whatever he is as Camilla. I think because he always liked Cam more.

Cam remains Cam. And I am delighted with this because Palamedes' influence within AND without is the same? I fucking love this woman, she popped out the womb like this and she's just keeping on trucking. Someone thinks she's a sex worker? Unfussed. Someone thinks she's fucking Crown? Mild distaste but that's more on the fact Corona is a biiitch. Dual daddying with Pyrrha? It's a TITLE, Cam seems to like titles. Maybe that's what it is, Camilla's self expression is a list of titles given to her by those who love her. The only one she’s picked for herself is Cavalier.

PAUL:

LEAST they/them they/them in the world. OBSESSED with them, they have the feminine energy that Palamedes carries but in Cam's body?? But the siege weapon threat of Cam?? Obsessed to get to know them more. I sense I shall kiss them on the mouth.

THEM AS CHARACTER ARCHETYPES VS "PEOPLE":

I think in part some of the issue with Palamedes and Camilla is how, on the whole, they seem to have been type cast as Male Boss and Female Minion. Because a tall dude with some authority and a quiet woman are put together and people get weird about that. (Even IRL. ‘Which one of you’s the fork?’ well firstly, she’s the knife, SECONDLY… that’s my tall glass of baby girl that speaks in a countertenor)

And this is a two fold issue:

THE FIRST: The Necromancer and Cavalier dynamic as portrayed by Muir.

It's seen as crass to dick down your cavalier (From Abigail and Magnus, through to Judith and Marta with canonical romantic refusal and LATTERLY Judith's SECONDARY canonical refusal of Coronabeth. Interestingly I don't see much shit about Isaac and Jeannemary but that's another hillock to rot on.).

But that doesn't seem to be the main issue WITHIN FANDOM or (more) people would be coming for Abigail and her lovely ottery meat shield.

Or Griddlehark.

Harrow and Gideon are lauded as the greatest romance of all time and the power dynamic there is TRULY whack. (affectionate)

Heir to the throne and indentured slave?

Necromancer made of a bajillion babies and a Base Level Not-Even-Squaddie.

Abuser and abused.

FORCED cavalier and necro?

Witness and sacrifice.

Even if you view them as a complicated sister dynamic... there are ABUNDANT issues there and a staggering co-dependancy that plays out in a sapphic lobotomy. So we have a base line of what, in the Nine Houses, classifies as a Fuckin' Ride Or Die of a relationship.

(this is without the fact that the NORM is for a baby to be specifically born for a Necromancer. Either RE:The manyfold uncles or like Babs being chosen as a zygote. Which do I have to explain how eugenics and baby-promises are worse than two people choosing each other or NAH?)

THE SECOND: People see a man and a woman and they give them preordained gender roles, which they then do some A/B/O level gymnastics to make them negatively fit into the necro and cav dynamic. It's funny because they're grey librarians who look like librarians. They look similar, they act similar but for some reason the fact Cam has tits gets some WILD hottakes.

(My favourite (said with spite and loathing) was someone asking if Cam fancied Harrow because she let Nona touch her… I.. I just??? She was letting Nona express herself in a safe way, Nona, who is a VULNERABLE ADULT with sensory issues. (yes this was reddit how did you guess))

Which.. is peculiar when you think of how we meet them, in an investigative role where they are immediately, companionably mocking each other? Where, out the gate, Cam lunges to protect Pal and as quickly as that happens he calls her back to protect her?

The Cavalier is there to protect the Necromancer. And yet he is IMMEDIATELY portrayed as a shield.

There's also an inherent, and non-canonically spoken of trust about what Pal EXPECTS of Camilla. It starts off with her with the rapier and how although adept with it, it is not her main skillset. And it's played against the bum rush way Gideon had to give in the two hander, but it's also, OBVIOUSLY, something Camilla has done forever and a day. So their roles are already non-traditional, with the basics of 'your cavalier should be your sword' cause girly pop let his barn door have two because she patently WANTED THEM.

Likewise, when hoorah boot clack salute, stick up her arse, repressed lesbo challenges them for their keys Cam is hot to go, but she waits for him to catch up. And he was erring on denial, he was erring on losing KNOWLEDGE, which is his main gain from any situation, to make sure she didn't get injured. But he puts her in that fight for HER HONOUR first, not his, not the Sixth's, Camilla Hect.

When she's injured, other than a brief moment of being a catty princess to Jody and Marta who lol DESERVED, he CHECKS Cam. He's frightened, he's fretting, he just wants her to not have been stabbed quite a lot, and PATENTLY blames himself. He is a PHYSIOLOGICALLY ADEPT necromancer and he FEARS for her injury, because of the pain not the complications of healing. It's an obvious show of how he perceives her as an extension of himself but NOT a tool.

Likewise, the only thing Pal ever did wrong and honestly, Dulci you aquatic-bint your way out of that river and give him a SLAP, was that he left her when he went to nuke Cytherea. He did it as a kindness, he didn't want her to see, he THOUGHT he did the right thing. And he didn't, and there wasn't a right thing, but oh my god dude.

He acted like a cavalier to guarantee her safety.

And I see a lot of 'oh well he did it cause he was upset about Dulci' like?? Cytherea SPOKE to them about the Avulsion trial. He had to look "Dulcinea" in the eye when she asked him to siphon Cam. Do you not think he wasn't already turbo pissed off? Hurt? Upset? Do you not think he was already mourning her, that he chose Cam over her, because he said “no”?

Which is a good segue into 'Paul is problematic'. First up, buckle up my darling little babies, spiritual cannibalism isn't exactly a fuckin' jolly holly time anyway, cause it was made by a man with the moral compass of a rabid wolverine and tits covered in biscuit crumbs.

At no point does Palamedes not feel dreadful for squatting inside Camilla. He is the (un)embodiment of a nervous friend sitting on a mostly full sofa trying to make himself as small as possible and wincing whenever he accidentally touches someone. He is there ONLY because it's what she wanted. And we know that because they discuss it, PRIVATELY, and it overheard by Nona. He also offers Cam the choice, they keep going as they are, or they do something else. But it is together, whatever they do is together. And she chooses to not suffer alone. And that some a y'all shit on that is a choice.

Harrow TBI's herself to not lose Gideon, but when two people enter into togetherness with consent it's a no?? They had a big ol’ adult chat (or 50 off screen, who knows, babygirl can’t shut up so I imagine it was more) and there’s booing and hissing.

Wah wah they're co-dependent it's not healthy, SURE, but it’s extreme circumstances, it's grimdark space heresy. Cam is a victim of torture, starvation and other such New Rho hells. Palamedes was in the purgatory of river isolation post suicide and his only hope of survival was Cam. They are the reason the other kept going. Paul is them keeping going, Paul is their promise to the other that it'll be okay, because they're there. Yes, they're co-dependent but they are each other's reason for being.

Even in the real world, when everything is subterranean, sewer level shit, you are told to find a reason to keep going. It can be a concert in a few months, or your ageing cat, it can be your mother or your tomato plants. And it's not long term, but THEY don't have long term.

And they BOTH chose. Palamedes had no promise of what would happen once he was booted back out of Babs, did he go back in Cam and risk her soul, or did he try another body? Was he already compromised by Tridentarii taint? But he was willing, if it was for her.

Likewise she was at the precipice of a wound that really needed a necromancers attention (look how BoE left Judith, like jesus colostomy christ the woman is a menace but shoving a carrier bag in her then blood letting her to refuel your stolen tesla is rough guys). It needed HER necromancers attention. And that wasn't happening. And she couldn't take not having him any more.

And they didn't go into it blind, The Sixth as a house patently had more knowledge on the melange of souls than most (via all the secrecy that was shared with BoE etcetc), and Pal had just learnt more, first hand, shoved up inside Naberius feeling their edges bleed together. And they had felt what it was to be Them before. They BOTH experienced that, like, blood-sweat and worried daddy lap aside, they both knew it would hurt her, and I have no doubt it cut Palamedes up, but it ate some of him too. 'Oh it hurt her more' my DUDE the man was already bone dust and fuck all else all that COULD be hurt WAS hurt.

THIRDLY (I realise there was not initially three points but there sure fucking is now LESSGO):

SACRIFICE. I've seen it said, repeatedly, they have an uneven power dynamic because Cam 'sacrifices' herself for him.

WELL. Let's break that down with a direct comparison.

Gideon Nav, a woman who had never been loved, but had sometimes been useful, sacrificed herself for a chance to die with the knowledge of being wanted. She knew and wanted to be eaten, absorbed, nothing more than her sword. This was seen as a rejection by Harrow for reasons even GIDEON was aware of, poor kid.

Harrowhark Nonagesimus, woman who, understandably, thinks she's cursed as all fuck, refused to take the sacrifice of Another Body and in the process made Gideon think she was being rejected. I think she is less aware, but not totally unaware. And it was in desperation. And she is so young, they both are, they were scared and staring at a bone wall or forever death.

But my point is their togetherness, no matter how complete, was born of VIOLENCE and the eradication of one of them, the violence of need, of desperation to belong, to not be torn from the one consistent point in their lives : each other.

Camilla Hect saw the buckshot shrapnel of her life partner embedded in Canaan's masonry (this is an actual sacrifice, he sacrificed himself for her safety) and chose to take the red string of fate and GANK IT until she got Palamedes back. Because they had a (theoretically possible) predetermined get-out-of-jail-free plan for if something took him first. They planned to never be apart, this was one plan of many.

And Palamedes Sextus, for his part, did everything he could to keep them safe, keep her safe, to make sure, even in the end, they would be together in the safest, sanest way possible. He dredged her from death both times they were shot, he sewed her back together from within the cage of her body. He resurrected them. He was a god FOR them, so they could stay them.

Was it actually safe and sane? Compared to gutty stabs and being consumed by a IANTHE, honestly, yeah.

Was it ideal? No, but it was better than death.

They lived, together. Discussed it, chose it.

If Palamedes is Decisive Consent and Camilla is Patient Protection, Paul is a Conversation with a lil line of kisses at the bottom. They're not made from love, they're made from necessity, but they are born BECAUSE of love, gentility. The difference between rabid hunger after suffering food scarcity and spending 14 hours cooking a meal for someone you love. They are both acts of consumption, but the tone is so vastly different.

✨anyway yeah hi I fucking love Cam and Pal and this is the hill I've chosen to climb and repeatedly die on✨

(I'd like to postface this with I love ALL these characters, I slag them off with the love of literary analysis, and none of them ever did anything wrong they are my tiny angel baby war crimes whom i wub them a normal amount.

...And I'm not getting the books out to quote shit so you're gunna have to embrace the Vibes.<3)

(shout out to @grievingbovine this is (partially) their fault *heart hands*)

[wineaunt420]

This is a DC OC story‼️

Between my daughter Oc Kiera and her pops Johnathan Crane.

Tw: mentions of death, loss of limbs, mentions of religion.

Kinda hurt comfort, I guess??

More under the banner// psa I do not proof read lmao, I'm not smart enough for that.

January 6, 1988. You could say it was the day my life turned 50 fucking degrees but…I came out of the water of the womb and left half my brain behind…In some sense of the word. Nah. that day was just adding salt into the wound. I never understood why some people got it easy…normal life, normal family. No issues to call their own. Now I ain’t religious but but I guess god just likes to pick and choose his favourites, guess I just wasn’t one of em.

Its always pissed me off though, how much more favoured the more fortunate are. Like they don’t understand how lucky they are or rather how unlucky others are. I don’t know when empathy was suddenly just disregard like non recyclable plastic I’ve seen tossed out peoples car windows but alas. “The world kept spinnin”...It makes me distasteful of those people.

But anyway…January 6, 1988. I was six years old when I took the plunge. You always hear about helicopter accidents but you never think its gonna be you. I lost more than my legs that day. The…only reason I live to fight today was because my mother…broke my fall…ever since then its just been me, my dad and these stupid fucking hunks of metal. I suppose I should be grateful but you tend to get a taste of disdain for the world when you are held at not only a mental disadvantage but also a physical one. Thank you world! I really appreciate it…But ever the enthusiastic girl I am! I love to dance. Top of my class actually!

I never really liked the academics much to my dads disapproval but he can’t really get upset about it, especially when he should be grateful I'm even still alive after the not so metaphorical “flunk to the floor” I had. He loves me, ofcourse…I know he wishes I went into science or maths or…English at least, hah!...as if. Nope! Dancing. He is obviously proud of me, what will the odds set against me and all. He understands how much I love it and he supports me…I know why he worries of course.

With my history of poor coping mechanisms and just pots and pots of endless disaster brain soup it's a mystery why he doesn’t have me on permanent lock down. I should be grateful…to be alive…to have a loving father…so why am i so angry…

“Kiera…”

Why can’t I just be happy

“Kiera!”

Huh?

“Yeah? Sorry pops…” kiera zoned back in, looking up at her dad.

Crain sighs

“Lost in you’re head again?”

She nods, clicking a pen on her dads desk….

“Hey…”

Kiera looks up at Johnathan again “hm?”

“You are going great…don’t stress yourself”

Kiera smiles softly…he was good like this….always able to read me like a book and knew exactly what to say to make me feel….atleast a little calmer. My thoughts spiral and they stray…But Trust the shrink To drag me back to reality.

“I can't fuckin’ help it, pops…I'm just. Y'know…” Kiera strains, her lip quirking slightly.

“It's alright, pumpkin. I know…I might have somethin’ help keep your mind occupied. Got a few colouring books-”

“Dad I ain’t 6 anymore- oh my god….you still have my old colouring books?” She let's out a short, light Chuckle as her old colouring book from when she was a young girl is pulled from a drawr and unceremoniously dropped onto the desk, along side an old- rather disgusting pack Of Crayola.

“I haven't cleared out my desk in a while….” his hand awkwardly rubs At the back of his neck. It had been rough after the loss, but they found strength in each other.

“Clearly…” but there was no venom behind her words, she wasn't a hateful bitch…Unless she found reason in being so. Despite her distaste in taking part In such a childish activity, she found herself flipping throughout the pages regardless…pages half finnished, lazily scribbled in with pinks, purples and littered with little drawings that were dictated by no set lines. A time capsule back to the only time she was truly…Free. Free willed, free spirited and full of nothing but an overly positive view of the world. A time capsule of innocence. She knew she was anything but now. Far from it….her eyes landed on a truly poorly drawn biro sketch of two stick people. Anyone else wouldn't have had a single fucking clue who these two insignificant childish scribbles where, but to Kiera…the most significance was held. Her and John, Obviously when she was alot younger, hand in hand. But that wasn't all. It was clearly a drawing after the accident. But happy go lucky little Kiera….bless her.

forever Happy.

What the fuck happened…

“You ready To talk About it yet?”

John's voice cut through her train of thought Again.

Looking down her legs….or lack there of. She looks back up with a warmer gaze.

“No…I feel better now”

[theculturedmarxist]

[...]

A long time ago, while conducting research for my master’s thesis on how the economic reforms of [French President] Emmanuel Macron had closed the circle started by [François] Mitterrand, I came to realize that the old Thatcherite idea, “There is no society, only individuals with the freedom of choice,” had become so commonly accepted in contemporary society that both right– and left-wing neoliberals today feel no need to emphasize it. 

Social surveys have also found a shocking lack of empathy and solidarity among communities in the U.S. and Western Europe, exactly at the time the dominant political narratives have begun to insist on inclusiveness and tolerance toward others. Subtle distinctions in definitions can often reveal commonly understood and yet unspoken differences between terms that we prefer to use: Inclusiveness does not necessary oblige solidarity or empathy, just as tolerance in the absolute sense means merely withholding action based on existing animosities, which are acknowledged by the very need for the usage of the term in question. Tolerance, indeed, does not have to mean understanding and accepting increasingly distant “others.”  

A question must be asked: Are we now, through ideological terminology, searching for exactly those things that we are in fact missing in our social reality? The need to define ideological terms prompts this question in that it arises only when certain notions have left the sphere of unspoken social consensus—the very frame of political and social thought. 

In his latest book, The exiled terms, Todor Kuljić, who is among the most internationally recognized Serbian sociologists of the previous and current century, explains how four decades of neoliberal reforms have influenced significant changes in the language we use to discuss ideology and politics, noting that all the terms previously connected to class inequalities, Marxist ideologies, and collective struggles of the working class have been systematically replaced with less critical, less “communist sounding” terms.

In sociology curricula, the terms “exploitation,” “revolution,” and even “humanism” have been almost completely forsaken, while we can see increased usage of words such as “transition,” “transformation,” and “social exclusion.” The term “transition,” a case in point, normalises poverty and corruption in countries that need to be convinced that they will be much better off when they adopt neoliberal economic models. 

The famous comedian George Carlin put forward a notion that there is a cultural tradition in the United States of constantly inventing new terms, and “exiling” the old-fashioned terms, which derives from the constant need to make the brutalities of everyday life more easily accommodated. “Americans have trouble facing the truth,” Carlin once said, “so they invent a kind of soft language to protect themselves from it.” If poor people used to live in slums, to cite one of Carlin’s standup routines, “now ‘the economically disadvantaged’ occupy ‘substandard housing’ in ‘inner cities.’” 

Anthropological studies have shown that this tendency has certain connections with the totemistic belief of the earliest human societies that, by changing the way we verbally identify a certain aspect of reality we can change the reality itself. It appears that this has never been more relevant than in the case of the modern culture of political correctness, which proposes that we accept social problems as consequences of our subconscious thoughts and/or individual actions, and try to solve them by changing the language we use to define them—while never searching for their material causes.

Professor Jordan Peterson has claimed that modern-day political culture developed in a manner in which the previously presumed need for objectivity was replaced with subjective feelings and perceptions, while the very understanding of material reality has been, through relativization, reduced to little more than an inconvenience that can be regulated by state legislation and group stigmatization. On the other hand, Slavoj Žižek holds that it is precisely the abandonment of the collective (ideas) for the individual (interests) that has led our increasingly globalized political culture down this path. The neoliberal, postmodern left has merely followed the neoliberal right of the eighties in the project of eliminating undesirable terminology related to physical, class, and social reality—depending on the preference of each—from the common frames of political debate, since a consensus on understanding material reality is the first and necessary condition of the collective political struggle.

Žižek also claims that the phenomenon of New Age leftists striving toward zealous political correctness merely contributes to depriving formal and informal human relationships of what is the very essence of humanity. This is because following the increasingly strict standards of Newspeak, as Orwell would put it, necessarily increases the distance between people by making them focus on their differences, thus continuously reinforcing the same barriers neoliberal leftists wish to break free of, while, at the same time, leaving them unable to overcome the tensions of every-day interactions through humor and other forms of releasing the burdening contents of the individual and collective subconscious. 

Further, if we take into account the previously mentioned thesis of Professor Kuljić, we can also propose the question: To what extent is the modern neoliberal leftist obsession with political correctness a consequence of the absence of a language and terminology by which young people could articulate the actual causes of their fear and anger and the need to express political radicalism? Of course, leftists of this persuasion remain thoroughly within the existing frame of the globally dominant ideology and never challenge the economic and political system.

At the same time, neoliberal right-wing policies continue to insist on the previously discussed narrative of personal responsibility—or, rather, personal “guilt”—not for the problems of cultural inequalities, which their leftist counterparts remain unable to relate to their actual causes in material reality, but rather for the position of the individual in the new economic order. Now in social media we witness the rise of an entire generation of young conservatives who present success and failure in life—mostly defined by the acquisition of wealth rather than personal happiness—as a consequence of individual decisions and actions, entirely decontextualized and removed from one’s personal circumstances, class background, and social context. 

Unlike the previous authors of the self-help books from the early eighties, these new “life coaches” of the internet are heavily engaged in the relativization of ethics, with some going as far as to conclude that those who stay employed in times of low wages and worsening labor conditions, instead of risking their financial existence with private business gambles, have no one but themselves to blame for being exploited. Thus, in a perverted sense of logical framing, they arrive very close to an argument used by ancient Greek philosophers to justify slavery: “An Athenian would rather kill himself than become a slave.” 

Neoliberal leftists legitimize the unfair treatment of others for personal gain with the condition that you address respectfully the same people whom you are exploiting—and, as well, disregard solidarity as the core value of the left. Contrarily, the neoliberal right wing insists that participation in the hierarchy of social and economic power is a goal necessary to achieve and a matter of personal choice, and not at all of social reality. It is as though they, the neoliberal right wing, have forgotten with how much effort traditional conservatives tried to uphold the principles of ethics—even if many of those principles were not part of the initial humanist–Enlightenment agenda, or universal values as Immanuel Kant would define them, but served only to preserve position and ensure reproduction of the upper classes—as though there truly was no society anymore. 

Not even the Prussian militarists of the old German Empire ever went so far as to assert openly that there is no common good, not even a universal moral code, and that, rather, you should seek to enrich yourself at the expense of others just to prove your own capabilities to a society you don’t even believe in anymore. But modern-day conservatives have crossed this line by seducing today’s ever more fearful youth with the promises that, if they prove capable enough, they can assume the role of the oppressor themselves and exploit the weak, who deserve their fate for failing to seize the “boundless opportunities” of some neoliberal economic paradise.

Thus, prevalent neoliberal left– and right-wing ideologies have not just disregarded, fragmented, or redefined traditionally universalist principles of ethics; they have also forsaken many “core values”—an emphasis on collective solidarity or personal liberty, common wellbeing, or individual morality—which defined the differences between the significant left– and right-wing ideologies of the previous two centuries. Even more important, humanity has been almost completely exiled from the sphere of ideological priorities—in favor of politically correct formality in the case of the New Age left, or, in the case of the New Age right, in favor of a convenient indifference to social problems. The value of humanity, in the sense in which it was understood during the course of the 20th century, will therefore have a hard time finding its way back into the ideological frames of the new world order. 

Luka Filipović, among the youngest Serbians ever to earn his doctorate, holds a Ph.D. awarded by the Faculty of Philosophy at the University of Belgrade. He has published numerous articles regarding the history of labor movements, communist parties, neoliberal economic reforms, and political turmoil of the late 20th century in Europe and Serbia. His book, Eurokomunizam i Jugoslavija 1968-1980,(Eurocommunism and Yugoslavia 1968–1980), is published this month by the Institute for Contemporary History in Belgrade, where Filipović currently conducts his research.  

[scienceysideblog]

Finally finished the biography of Marie curie written by her daughter eve. I finished it a while ago but didn't realise I'd left this post in my drafts. I knew a little bit about Marie curie before reading it but I don't think I quite appreciated the struggles she experienced in her life, how incredibly hard she worked and how much she achieved.

Ironically, I get the impression she wouldn't have liked the fact I see her as such an inspiration. She said "in science we must be interested in things not persons" and she never really understood the way people reacted to her once she was famous.

Despite this, I cannot help but be inspired by her and hope that I have some things in common with her which will help me succeed as a scientist even if not in the same way she did. Although, I think the book has also helped me come to the conclusion that whether other people, even if they are my inspirations, think I will be a successful scientist isn't really what matters, the science I love is what matters.

I think she was the sort of person who if she saw a problem she could help with, helped without hesitation, someone who was determined, who worked incredibly hard, who loved her family and her country and her subject. She could've been a millionaire, if she and pierre curie had patented the extraction process of radium, but she rejected it because of her principles, because radium was an element and she felt it belonged to everyone. She said "humanity certainly needs practical men... But humanity also needs dreamers" and I think she was a dreamer and I think despite everything, in the end she was hopeful for the future of her laboratory and for the future of science.

My physics teacher (who also inspires me) told our class that the curies and the Einsteins are the people that don't give up. And I understand that even more now from reading this book. Marie waited for so long to go to university because she was working so that her sister could go and she almost gave up hope, but she didn't. And even during that time she taught disadvantaged children because she saw an opportunity to make a difference. Despite winning the Nobel prize she and pierre could not afford a laboratory and they struggled for many years doing their research in cramped unsuitable rooms. Eventually, some time after pierre's death Marie built her laboratory and multiple radium institutes.

I was attempting to compile a list of key quotes however, aside from this one, I think the most important are the ones I have mentioned earlier in this post as I still think about them regularly.

"if I see anything vital around me, it is precisely that spirit of adventure, which seems indestructible and is akin to curiosity"

I strongly recommend madame curie the book to anyone interested in her or in radioactivity because it is brilliant.

[megan77177]

My learning content （1）: 40 short articles and 3500 words

Fall in Love with English Hiding behind the loose dusty curtain, a teenager packed up his overcoat into the suitcase. He planned to leave home at dusk though there was thunder and lightning outdoors. He had got to do this because he was tired of his parents’ nagging about his English study and did not want to go through it any longer. He couldn’t get along well with English and disliked joining in English classes because he thought his teacher ignored him on purpose. As a result, his score in each exam never added up to over 60. His partner was concerned about him very much. She understood exactly what he was suffering from, but entirely disagreed with his idea. In order to calm him down and settle his problem, she talked with him face to face and swapped a series of learning tips with him. The items she set down helped him find the highway to studying English well. The teenager was grateful and got great power from his friend’s words. Now, he has recovered from being upset and has fallen in love with English

Different Countries Have Different Kinds of Englishes Voyages of people from England play an important part in spreading the English language. At present, English is frequently spoken as an official or common language in many countries, such as America, Singapore, Malaysia and some African countries. All based on British English, the English spoken in these countries can be well understood by native English speakers. But actually, these Englishes have been gradually changing in accents, spellings, expressions and the usage of vocabulary. Because of this fact, you can make use of the differences to tell which country the foreigners of your block are from. For example, if a boss fluently commands his driver, “Come up straight to my apartment by elevator and take some gas for my trucks and cabs”, instead of requesting, “Please come to my flat by lift and take some petrol for my lorries and taxis”, you can recognize his American identity, while the latter suggests that he is British.

A Hard Trip My sister was fond of traveling. Ever since graduating, she had been determined to organize a trip to an old temple. Since transporting fare was expensive, she decided to use a bicycle to cycle there not caring about the disadvantages. Her stubborn attitude was always her shortcoming. Once she made up her mind to do something, no one could persuade her to change her mind. Finally, we gave in as usual though we preferred to take a train. After we prepared everything, including the schedule, reliable weather forecast and the insurance, we began our trip. Our journey was along a river flowing from a high altitude. Our pace was slow because the river frequently had many sharp bends through deep valleys, where the water seemed to boil. Just as I recorded in my journal, it was really a hard journey. But we also enjoyed great views. One night, I put my head on my pillow--a parcel of wool coats, and lay beneath the stars. When the flame in front of our cave went out at midnight, I found the sky so beautiful!

A Horrible Earthquake Dirty water rose in wells and canals before the earthquake. But no one judged that an earthquake was coming. Suddenly, everything shook. It seemed as if the world was at an end. Millions of brick houses and a number of dams were destroyed. Railway tracks became useless bars. Pipes in mines burst and let out smelly steam. Huge cracks trapped cyclists everywhere. The next day, this event was the headline or main title of all newspapers. With the reporters giving an outline of the disaster, the whole nation was shocked by the damage and the victim’s extreme suffering. People were moved when they read that the survivors comforted each other by saying “Congratulations! You survived!”. So they not only expressed their sympathy sincerely, but also organized together to help the victims right away. The injured were rescued and the dead were buried. The frightened survivors were dug out from under the ruins and were offered shelter, fresh water and electricity. Thanks to people’s help, the loss was minimized.

The Great President As the founder of the republic, the president had many good qualities. Before coming to power, he was a generous lawyer. He was willing to selflessly help everyone who turned to him. He accepted no fee to offer legal guidance and opinions to those who were out of work or uneducated. Later, believing all mankind to be equal, he devoted himself to stopping the unfair anti-black laws. He set up the Black Youth League and was voted to be the leader. However, though he kept peaceful principles without violence and terror, his mean enemies still blew up his house and attacked his relatives, and he himself couldn’t escape being sentenced to 30 years in prison. Not fearing of the prison guards’ cruelty, he kept active and begged no mercy from them. As a matter of fact, he was always hopeful and never lost heart during the stage even though he was in trouble. Finally, people rewarded him with the leader’s position and a gold blanket.

[karimagarwal]

The Ethics of AI: Preventing Biases and Discrimination

AI is reshaping every industry and impacting people’s lives in ways we’ve never seen before. However, as more and more industries adopt this technology, the need to incorporate AI ethics becomes increasingly important. Without ethical guardrails, these tools could reproduce real-world biases and discrimination, exacerbating existing imbalances across socioeconomic class, race, color, religion, gender, disability, sexual orientation, and more. AI ethics are a set of moral principles and guidelines that ensure that the advantages and disadvantages of AI tools are considered and employed responsibly.

Incorporating ethical considerations into the design phase of AI development is the best way to prevent these types of biases from occurring in the first place. This includes ensuring that the data used to train an algorithm is completely transparent, allowing any problematic attributes to be removed. It also requires transparency throughout the model’s lifecycle, so that it can be corrected if necessary. It’s also essential to include a human component in the design process. Creating a human “ethics officer” who can review decisions and identify potential risks can help to avoid these types of issues before they occur.

One of the biggest challenges with applying AI to the healthcare industry is the need for medical professionals to make sure that any decision they make is based on valid, reliable data. This is an especially complex issue because of the sensitive nature of patient information and the wide range of potential biases that may exist in the data. AI tools that are based on this information can produce inaccurate or even harmful results, putting patients at risk.

Another area of concern is the use of AI in clinical trials and in the treatment of patients. The reliance on these systems can lead to biases in diagnosis, treatment, and other critical decisions that can have a significant impact on the health of patients. AI is often prone to bias because tech ogle of the way it’s trained and the assumptions it makes about what is important in a person’s life. These assumptions can be influenced by biases in the training data or by factors that aren’t fully understood, such as how social media posts and other online activity affect an individual’s personality traits.

An example of this type of bias occurred in 2022, when the Lensa AI app generated cool-looking portraits of users. This caused controversy because it wasn’t clear whether the app was paying artists who created the original digital images that were being used to train the AI model. This was a clear violation of ethical standards and illustrates the need to apply AI ethics at every stage in the development and use of AI.

There are several key areas where AI is being applied to medicine and healthcare, including technology news drug discovery, diagnostics, and treatment. These applications pose major ethical challenges that must be addressed in order to create beneficial machines. The most significant challenge is the need to develop an ethical framework that can be applied consistently to these systems to help ensure that they are free from bias and are safe for all patients.

[grantgoddard]

Around the British Rail network in eight hundred minutes : 1976 : Durham University challenge

 “Which bus goes to the University, please?” I asked. The man replied helpfully, but I could not understand a word he had said. He spoke English, though not an English I had heard before. I was confused by all the bus stops, having just exited Lancaster railway station. At which one did I need to wait? There was no bus map. There were no obvious students to ask. I had never been north of Luton until then. I had never watched ‘Coronation Street’. I was a southerner who barely understood a word that was being said to me there, hundreds of miles from home.

I had left the house that morning at the crack of dawn to make a day trip to check out Lancaster University. It was one of five universities I had selected on my UCCA form, all of which had offered me a place, conditional upon A-level results, without requesting an interview. However, if I was going to spend three years far away from home, I wanted to go see each one to help me choose. I had never visited a university before. Aside from my teachers, I had never met anyone who had attended university. That year, I hoped to be one of the 6% of school leavers who would go on to university, a proportion that had multiplied from 2% the year I had been born.

My state school had provided no useful advice how to choose a university or course. Our designated ‘careers counsellor’ was actually a moonlighting English teacher who would merely direct us to a row of dogeared university prospectuses on his office shelf. Some were out-of-date, many were missing. We were offered no ‘careers’ seminars. Surrey County Council had compelled each sixth-former to complete a multiple-choice questionnaire and then informed us for which career we were supposedly suited. Further studies were never suggested. You were on your own when it came to an academic future.

I understood that my choice of university could be a life-changing decision, one that required me to review the maximum amount of available information. If neither my family nor my school could provide useful advice, I would research all the options myself. I wrote a letter to every UK university outside London (where I realised accommodation was unaffordable), requesting their current prospectus and details of their economics courses. I chose that subject simply because it had provided my best academic results at school. I had known for a decade that I desired a career in ‘radio’, though university courses in media or broadcasting did not exist. If I had known then that Britain’s first ‘media studies’ degree had been launched at the Polytechnic of Central London (later renamed the University of Westminster) in 1975, I might have rethought my plans.

Seven years earlier, at my council estate junior school, I had been one of three children out of my class of thirty (10%) to have passed the ’11-Plus’ examination, necessary to progress to ‘grammar school’. However, at that time, around 20% of UK pupils attended these ‘selective’ secondary schools, the difference attributable to the substantial numbers of privately educated children who were crammed intensively at fee-paying ‘preparatory schools’ to pass the exam and who then dominated grammar schools’ intakes. From my ‘year’ of sixty students at Strode’s School, only around ten of us progressed to university, an indication that the ’11-Plus’ was less a successful method of identifying Britain’s brightest children, and more a route for middle-class parents to secure their offsprings an elitist secondary education paid for by the state. Has this situation since improved? In 2008, the Sutton Trust reported that grammar schools were enrolling “…half as many academically able children from disadvantaged backgrounds as they could do”.

I was fortunate that Surrey County Council would pay my train fares for visits to five universities, whether an interview was required or not. I had to determine when each institution offered ‘open days’, book my place, arrange train tickets and inform the school of my impending absence. It required considerable organisation, particularly as these visits necessitated train connections in London. These were days when I would not return home until almost midnight and would have to go to school the following day. I had never travelled so many miles on public transport or seen so much of England from a train window.

I must have been the only student at my school to own a copy at home of almost every UK university’s current prospectus. My request for economics course information proved less successful. Many sent me nothing, the remainder provided a single sheet outlining a course that merely encompassed all aspects of the subject. I read absolutely everything I was sent and concluded that every university claimed to be absolutely perfect and their courses the best. I had merely filled my bedroom bookshelf with marketing propaganda. Instead, I decided to select four universities that already operated student radio stations as this was my long-term career objective … plus Durham.

Although Durham University had no radio station, I learned it was apparently thought of highly. If I were rejected by Cambridge, I considered it might be a reputational substitute. Due to the 300-mile distance, my trip to Durham required an overnight stay in Collingwood College which was offered free to those attending ‘open days’. After a long train journey followed by an uphill walk, I was given an undergraduate bedroom within the college and met several other visitors who were there for the same reason. We took the university’s guided tours together the next day and ate as a group in the college’s dining room, offering us a first taste of undergraduate life.

The following morning, we packed our bags and met together for the thirty-minute walk to Durham railway station on the opposite side of town to catch our trains back to ‘the south’. However, we found the platforms deserted and, eventually locating a member of staff, we were told that a strike had started that morning and there were no trains departing in any direction. Returning to the college with our tails between our legs, we explained our problem and it kindly offered to extend its hospitality until we could depart. Each of us changed our banknotes into piles of ten-pence coins and queued at the college’s one public phone in the basement to contact our parents and schools to explain that we did not yet know when we could return. A quick visit had unexpectedly transformed into something longer.

I took the opportunity to wander around Durham’s compact town centre and explore more places, particularly the ‘Musicore’ record shop. The university library and the cathedral were both impressive, as was the brutalist concrete student union building ‘Dunelm House’ and adjoining ‘Kingsgate Bridge’ constructed by architect Ove Arup in 1963. The other universities I had visited were campus-based, requiring a bus journey to the nearest town. I quite liked Durham’s integration into the city and the ability to walk from one end to the other without need of transport.

The next morning, before breakfast in the college dining room, I phoned Durham railway station, to be informed that no trains would be running for the second consecutive day. This was the only method to obtain information in those days. I met the others and we phoned our families with our disappointing update. We spent most of that day sat together in the Junior Common Room chatting, sharing our university visit experiences and our hopes for the future. For me, it was particularly interesting to meet young people for the first time who shared my situation.

I made another call to the railway station the next morning, anticipating more bad news, but was told a single train was expected that day. It would be heading north, the opposite direction to what we required. I asked if there was any alternative route to London and it was explained that, although the east coast route was still on strike, we could try travelling via the west coast on the opposite side of the country. When was this one train expected? In an hour, I was told. Action stations!

I located my fellow visitors and, without taking breakfast, we all signed out of college and rushed off to the station. There was no information available there about the time of the train, on which platform it would arrive or where it would be heading. While we waited, we examined a British Rail route map in the ticket office which showed a cross-country route from east to west coast that started in Newcastle, the next major stop north of Durham. We were the only people awaiting a train and did wonder whether we had been sent on a wild goose chase, only to have to return to the college for yet another night.

Then the day’s promised one train appeared and pulled into the station. Unsurprisingly, it was almost empty. Who would have known it would be running in the midst of a crippling strike? We boarded and waved farewell to Durham, not knowing if any of us would ever return. Within a quarter-hour, we alighted in Newcastle. It was the first of many times that day that we were required to explain to confused railway staff that, although our tickets to London were dated days earlier, the unanticipated strike had forced us to take the only train available … in the opposite direction.

Next, to cross England to the west coast, we discovered we had to take a less regular, slower train that would depart in an hour. The wait gave us an opportunity to walk out of Newcastle railway station, buy some breakfast and wander around the city. Compared to Durham, it appeared a huge, busy scruffy city centre with huge Victorian stores and old-fashioned shopping arcades. Even the clothes people wore seemed dated and dowdy, particularly seeing many men wearing flat caps. It was an industrial city where time seemed to have stood still fifty years earlier.

Our ninety-minute journey in a local train from Newcastle to Carlisle took us across the bleak terrain of the North Pennine hills, stopping only at tiny towns with strange, unfamiliar names like Prudhoe, Corbridge, Hexham and Haltwhistle. Once again, we were required to explain to the train’s on-board ticket inspector why we were travelling in the wrong direction with out-of-date tickets. He knew about the strike and laughed heartily at our story, wishing us well on our journey home. It began to feel like a kind of ‘expedition’ where, at every step, it proved necessary to explain why our little group of seventeen-year-olds were taking a route no sane person would choose to follow.

The train terminated at Carlisle, a two-thousand-year-old city on the border between England and Scotland, fifty-five miles west and north of Durham. It was midday by now and, from there, we could now take a west coast 'Intercity' train southbound. We did not venture outside the station as this would have entailed having to explain our tickets once more and we feared not being allowed entry back into the station. This region was unaffected by the strike and trains seemed thankfully to be running as scheduled.

Our four-hour journey to London was comfortable until a ticket inspector arrived. We explained our story but he seemed unaware of the rail strike on the east coast and disbelieved our narrative. Initially, he demanded we pay for new tickets. We refused because we each held a valid, paid-for British Rail ticket that we had been prevented from using by the strike. The argument continued and he demanded we write down our names and addresses in order that the police could be contacted so that we would be fined for travelling without valid tickets. He was a ridiculous ‘jobsworthy’ who showed no sympathy for our plight. His attitude ruined the longest, most gruelling part of that day’s journey.

Reaching London’s Euston station, our small group split up to head different directions home. It was a sad parting of ways as we had no idea if we would ever see each other again or even which university each of us might attend (no social media or mobile phones then!). The last few days had required us to bond in the face of adversity, forcing us to make a round-Britain trip we had never imagined. It would be quite a story to tell our classmates.

I crossed London by Tube, caught a train from Waterloo station to Camberley and then a bus, reaching home more than twelve hours after having left Collingwood College in Durham. My school might not have been happy about my extended absence but, later that year, those awaydays would play a major role in my decision to study in Durham. I felt as if I was already sufficiently familiar with the college and the town as a result of that elongated visit. I imagined that my fellow Durham students would be similar to those with whom I had travelled the length and breadth of England.

Did I receive correspondence from British Rail or the police as a result of the unfriendly ticket inspector we had encountered? Thankfully, no. Did I ever see my newfound friends again? Sadly, no.

[ga-yuu]

[Gilbert Von Obsidian Story Chapter 1]

----Part 1----

Once upon a time, in Rhodolite, the Land of Roses and Art, there was a strange encounter that was like a divine prank.

Black-haired boy: "Hey, why are powerful people so corrupted?"

A boy sitting on a barrel in an alleyway closes the thick book on his lap which looks inappropriate for his thin body.

The book was about the history of a continent spelled out in an archaic language that even scholars should find difficult to understand.

The boy understood all the contents with the ease of reading a picture book.

He asks the blond boy sitting on the ground.

The blond-haired blue-eyed boy with a mature aura didn't stop reading.

Black-haired boy: "They say continental history is the history of aristocracy, but there are no good people in it."

Black-haired boy: "Those who killed their own people to gain the throne, those who cheated other nations to expand their territory, and those who turned a blind eye to the suffering of their people..."

Black-haired boy: "This has been going on for a long time now. There should be a kind monarch who is equal and charitable to everyone."

Black-haired boy: ".....But no. Why would people like that ever go down in history."

Blond boy: "Of course."

Blond boy: "In today's society where class-based society has become the norm, a monarch who claims to be loving and equal would be the first to be eliminated."

Blond boy: "Once in power, you can never relinquish it. If the slightest disadvantage is incurred, they will meditate on it."

Blond boy: "The pain of others will be nothing. That's human nature."

Black-haired boy: "Hmmm, guess so."

The black-haired boy jumps down from his barrel, putting his small feet on the ground and smiles brightly as sun shining down the alley.

Black-haired boy: "I think humans are inherently conscientious creatures."

Black-haired boy: "It's the world that makes people greedy, not the people itself."

Blond boy: "According to your theory, there are no real evil people in the world?"

Black-haired boy: "Mmhm, because the essence of human nature is 'love."

Black-haired boy: "The corrupt monarchs who spun history could have been kinder to others if the world had been different."

Blond boy: ".......You are quite the dreamer."

Black-haired boy: "So what? I'm still a kid."

Black-haired boy: "And I like people."

The blond boy looked up from his book and couldn't help but snicker.

The red eyes of the dark-haired boy were full of compassion and tenderness.

.............

It's been several days since the princes of the three countries requested an extended stay for headache-inducing reasons.

After careful consultation with Sir Sariel and other princes,

Rhodolite is ready to welcome state guests.

Leon: "As, I've said many times, it's been decided that the princes from each country will stay for the four-country talks."

At a regular meeting of the princes, and key officials belonging to the internal affairs faction.

Once the agenda was settled, the matter was brought up with Leon, the leader of the internal affairs faction.

Leon: "His Majesty, the King has given his approval. The decision will not be reversed."

Leon's dignified voice silences the frustrated internal bureaucrats.

(I had expected this, but there still seems to be a lot of backlash)

Bureaucrat: "...I'm still not convinced. Benitoite as a friendly country and Jade as a neutral country would be fine."

Bureaucrat; "But why must we also accept Obsidian!?"

Bureaucrat: "Their former treachery, has gone unredressed to this day."

Bureaucrat: "There must be some nefarious plotting behind this stay too...it's too dangerous."

Leon: "I know. We have not forgotten the Bloodstained Rose Day ten years ago."

(Bloodstained Rose Day....I've only heard rumors)

Ten years ago, Rhodolite was invaded by Obsidian.

The princes went to the battlefield and stopped them at the border, so I, who lived in the royal capital, only heard rumors.

The sudden invasion, which could be described as a bolt from the blue, has left a huge scar on the Country of Roses.

That is the reason why the overwhelming majority of people are not comfortable with the stay of the Obsidian royal family.

(I don't know the details, I'll have to look it up next time)

Leon: "But now a country that has never been open to any diplomacy has come to the forefront."

Leon: "I think it's well worth allowing them to stay."

Bureaucrat: "But..."

Leon: "Besides, if anything goes wrong, I and Chevalier will take the blame."

Leon: "You have your thoughts, but swallow them for now."

-----Part 2----

The silence that fell in the drawing room was so heavy that even the slightest noise would have been unacceptable.

Bureaucrat: "Then, at least..."

The bureaucrat, who seemed to have retracted his fangs turned to me, who was in the last seat.

Bureaucrat: "Tell us why that woman is present here."

All eyes were on me and I felt as if I had been dragged all the way to the center of the stage.

(I thought someone would ask)

Many of the Bureaucrats here don't know that I am Belle.

One day, without any warning, a mysterious young lady appeared and began to stay at the court for her studies...

In addition, she was also escorted by the prince of Obsidian at the goodwill party and also seen dancing with him.

(The constant staring hurts....they must be suspecting I'm on the Obsidian's side)

Jin: "Emma is just a victim here, right?"

Emma: "Yes. I was asked to show the way by Prince Gilbert and he forced me to attend the party with him."

Emma: "I've never met him before and I don't know him personally. To be honest, I'm still confused."

(I wish it had been a dream)

Bureaucrat: "I don't think that 'Trampling Beast' would escort a woman for no reason."

Bureaucrat: "Excuse me, but even if you don't know why we still can't let our guard down around you..."

Licht: "The allies have decided that it's not a problem."

Licht: "Why else would you need a reason?"

Yves: "I can understand your concern though."

Yves: "But there is nothing suspicious about Emma. That much is certain."

(The princes will defend me but I'm sure all of them are equally confused as I am)

(....As Belle I was allowed to participate in this meeting to deepen my knowledge, but I shouldn't have come)

Luke: "Haa...such bad vibes."

As if to cut the tension, a lazy-sounding voice rises.

Luke sitting next to me, who also attended the meeting as a part of his studies,

Sighed loudly at the bureaucrat who raised his eyebrows in disapproval.

Luke: "I don't care what you think."

Luke: "Second of all, what do you even know about the Trampling Beast, to begin with?"

Bureaucrat: "Of course, everyone knows how notorious, he is."

Bureaucrat: "He has ruled numerous countries through the use of force, rewriting the maps of the continents at an extraordinary pace, and he is also a world bane..."

Bureaucrat: "He has never lost a battle, and as an ever-victorious marshal, he is a man to watch, a figure of great importance that the whole continent is on the lookout for."

Bureaucrat: "A cold-blooded, arrogant, evil royal family that tramples on so many things that it deserves the name of Trampling Beast."

Luke: "I didn't ask you to repeat the rumors about him. I asked you if you actually know about him or not and it appears that you don't."

Luke: "What if he just fell in love with Emma at first sight?"

(No, I don't think that's the case)

The bureaucrats could not hide their "what are you talking about?" faces.

Leon: "Heh..hahaha! That might the case too. Don't you think?"

Jin: "Emma is a pretty girl after all. No wonder the Trampling Beast himself fell in love with her."

Luke: "See? That's why it's not Emma's fault. Stop blaming her."

Luke gets up and grabs my hand.

Luke: "Let's get out here. Staying here anymore will suffocate you to death."

Luke: "Let's bunk this meeting together."

(As always, he's lazy....)

(...But since my presence is making the atmosphere worse, let's take advantage of Luke's kindness for now)

Emma: "Prince Leon, may leave the meeting?"

Leon: "Go ahead. ...Luke, don't tell Sariel about this."

Luke: "Of course, leave her to me."

(Why did this happen?)

----Part 3----

Luke led me by the hand and we came to the rose garden.

The tension finally dissolves as I am welcomed by the sweet fragrance that confronts my wounded heart.

Luke: "Feeling better now?"

Emma: "Thank you, Luke....sorry you also had to leave because of me."

Luke: "Why are you apologizing? You didn't do anything wrong."

His large hand patted my head and my cheeks relaxed.

(Thank god, Luke was there or else I would have cried)

Luke: "If you have any problem, you can always talk to me, okay? Even if you're dealing with a big bad tiger, I'll protect you no matter what."

A dependable smile is like a panacea, taking away the pain in my heart.

It was then that I felt relieved that I was not alone in this situation.

???: "Hmm, that sounds reassuring isn't it?"

(Mm...)

My heart jumps out of my chest as if to gouge out the pain that is about to subside.

A voice from somewhere and the sound of a cane hitting the cobblestones with a clang, painted the beautiful rose garden into a nightmare.

Luke: ".....Gilbert."

Mercilessly, Luke's muttering brings me back to reality.

I looked back awkwardly and saw a black figure among the petals blown up by the wind.

Gilbert: "Hello. Were you in the middle of a secret rendezvous?"

Luke: "Haa..if you know, then don't get in our way."

Gilbert: "But I want to. I'm lonely, you know."

Luke: "....The nerve of you."

(....Luke's attitude doesn't change towards Prince Gilbert)

Following the example of the goodwill party, he who is unperturbed, even though he is a Trampling Beast, I also hide my agitation.

But Gilbert laughed, as if he knew everything.

Gilbert: "You look unhappy, little bunny?"

Gilbert: "By the looks of it, did someone mistreat you?"

Emma: "....No."

Gilbert: "I hate liars, you know."

I felt a gruesome pressure on my spine that chilled.

No matter how calm I tried to appear, my instincts seemed to sense fear, and my face pulled into a tight line.

(It was the same when we first met. There shouldn't be a need to feel so 'scared'...)

Luke: "If someone is bullying her, then it's you."

Luke takes one step forward to cover me.

Luke: "You're existence is already terrifying. So stop scaring Emma."

Gilbert: "Aww, that's so unreasonable. I haven't done anything terrible yet."

Emma: " 'Yet'...means?"

Gilbert: "....Fufu."

Gilbert-sama only smiled meaningfully, but did not deny it.

Gilbert: "I don't like it when you're scared."

Gilbert: "I only want to be friends with little bunny here. So I think we must get to know each other as soon as possible...right?"

Gilbert: "Oh yeah, that's it!"

Prince Gilbert, who clapped his hands deliberately, ignored Luke and approached me.

Gilbert: "I still haven't thanked you for helping me that day."

Gilbert: "How about we go out together?"

Emma: "Go out?"

Gilbert: "Mmhmm. Just the two of us and no one else."

(.....No, I must not nod)

The Trampling Beast, the world's bane, the infamous Prince----"

It is hard to believe that he would want to got out with a lady like me just to 'friends'

(Probably he's trying to figure out who I am)

----FLASHBACK----

Gilbert: " I was interested in you."

Gilbert: "So let's take time and chat more, next time 'Belle'?"

----FLASHBACK ENDS----

(Prince Gilbert seemed to suspect that I am Belle)

(And maybe he's trying to get me to expose my identity)

Luke: "What are you up to?"

As expected, Luke looks at him suspiciously.

Gilbert: "I wanna be friends with your little bunny. That's all."

Gilbert: "If she keeps giving me this frightened look every time then---"

Gilbert: "It will make me sad and I'd end up killing her."

----Part 4-----

At first, I didn't understand what he meant.

I was so lost in the good-looking young man in front of me that I suspected that I had misheard him.

(No, I must not run away)

(Even though...I just got threatened flat out---)

The fear that came late was powerful enough to cower my heart.

Luke: "..You.."

Gilbert: "Luke, do me a favor and make up a good excuse to mislead everyone else, will you? We will be back in time for dinner."

Luke: "Why should I be a part of your evil deeds?"

Gilbert: "It's not anything evil. It's your job."

Gilbert: "Luke is a part of the external affairs faction, isn't he? So it's your job to make sure that your guests are happy....right?"

Luke: "......."

Gilbert: "It's your job too, self-proclaimed noblewoman of Rhodolite."

Gilbert: "If you piss me off, I will destroy your whole country. Of course, you don't want that, right?"

(It sounds like a joke, but I'm sure Prince Gilbert is a person who would do something like that)

-----Options------

Please give me time to consult. (+4/+4)

I can't nod. (+4/+4)

Okay, I'll go. (+4/+4)

-------------

Emma: "Please give me time to consult..."

(If only I could at least ask Sir Sariel for help)

Gilbert: "No."

Prince Gilbert mercilessly kicked out my only hope.

Gilbert: "I'm not going to give you any chances to decline my invitation."

I was at a loss and Prince Gilbert grabbed my wrist.

(....It's so cold)

Though he's wearing his gloves, I could still feel his icy cold fingers and I tremble.

Luke: "Gilbert!"

Gilbert: "Don't worry, I won't do anything cruel."

Gilbert: "You should know better than anyone that I don't lie."

Luke: "......"

(....What do you mean?)

Luke runs his fingers through his hair and sighs.

Luke: "....Emma if you don't want to, I'll kick this guy away right now."

Emma: "....I understand. But it's fine."

Emma: "Prince Gilbert is a guest of Rhodolite and I also have the duty to entertain him without being rude."

Emma: "Prince Luke...please inform Sir Sariel for me."

(I can't resist now)

Luke reluctantly nods.

Gilbert: "I'm glad you didn't turn me down. Let's go shall we?"

(Somehow, I'll just have to get through this peacefully)

........

(...Why?)

We boarded the carriage that Prince Gilbert prepared and headed to our destination----Hell.

(Out of all the places...)

(....He had to bring me here)

It is still naive to think he suspects my identity as Belle.

Prince Gilbert casually walks up to my original workplace without any hesitation.

(Prince Gilbert is not suspicious..he's 'sure')

Gilbert: "I reserved the whole place just for the two of us. Aren't you excited?"

He opens the front door and forces me into the bookstore.

I'm sure Sir Sariel would have arranged for another clerk to work in place while I was gone.

But for now, the bookstore is empty.

(Why on earth this had to happen?)

(Don't tell me our meeting the rose garden was also a part of his plan...)

(No, I don't think Prince Gilbert can plan all of that)

(But what if it was?)

A different emotion from instinctive fear engulfs my mind.

A cold hand was placed on my stunned shoulder and pushed me further inside the bookstore.

Gilbert: "I know you like books. You can relax here as much as you want."

Gilbert: "No more annoying stares. It's the only place where you can return to your true self."

Emma: "......."

Gilbert: "You look pale. Are you not happy?"

----Part 5----

Emma: "How do you know I like books?"

Gilbert: "It's a secret."

Emma: "And this bookstore..."

Gilbert: "It's a secret too."

Emma: "........."

Gilbert: "Just so you know....I'm an information-gathering hobbyist."

Gilbert: "When I don't know something, it makes me curious. So I'll try to find out about it no matter what."

Prince Gilbert smiles happily and puts his face to my ear.

Gilbert: "Are you feeling guilty? Belle?"

Emma: "........I'm not Belle."

Gilbert: "I hate liars. I told you."

Emma: "........"

The fangs of the beast are already set on me.

I had to lie somehow, but my mind was pathetically blank.

Gilbert: "Ah...Aren't you into this book lately?"

As if in pursuit, Prince Gilbert pulls a black book from the bookshelf and places it in my hands.

It had a black cover and its title was written in golden colour. It was a book that I'm reading currently.

(Just how much does he know about me?)

(...Where did you get this much info?)

Emma: "What's your purpose...please tell me."

With what little courage I had, I squeezed out my voice because my heart was about to collapse.

Emma: "Are you trying me threaten me or something?"

Gilbert: "I'm not here to threaten you. I want us to be friends."

Gilbert: "I'll tell you properly this time. I truly want to be friends with you."

Emma: ".....Friends?"

Gilbert: "Yes."

Gilbert: "See, it's just that simple."

(No way)

It's difficult for me to read Prince Gilbert's intentions before replying.

(But I can instinctively feel that I must not be friends with this guy)

Emma: "I can't be your friend, Prince Gilbert."

Gilbert: "Fufu...looks like you don't understand."

Prince Gilbert holds my hand and breaths into my ears.

The black book falls from my hand and before I could get it, he held my cheek with his cane.

Gilbert: "You have two choices, either you willingly be my friend or force yourself to be my friend."

Emma: "Nn...!"

My voice leaked out as I felt a sharp pain on my neck.

(Did he...just bite me...?)

The cold, soft touch and the itchy pain lingered on my neck eating away at my aroused heart like poison.

Gilbert: "If you won't be my friend....Belle will disappear."

Gilbert: "Rhodolite won't get their King and I will come with my troops to crush your country."

Emma: "....."

Gilbert: "So I'll ask you again, be my friend."

(I can only nod)

Because everything is in Prince Gilbert's hands.

To willingly be friends or force myself to be friends, there is only one answer.

Emma: "....Why do you want to go out of your way to be friends with me?"

Gilbert: "Good question."

Everytime, he giggles, his soft breath hits my neck.

Rather than embarrassment, unfathomable fear prevailed.

Gilbert: "You are said to have the most beautiful heart in all of Rhodolite."

Gilbert: "And there are many different criteria for evaluating a beautiful heart, but...."

Gilbert: "The beautiful heart in your case is 'loving others more than yourself"

(You must not be knowing this much about me...)

(....But I can't say anything back because I'm afraid)

Gilbert: "A heart that loves and cares for those around you and respects others more than yourself..."

Gilbert: "You were chosen as Belle because you risk your life to help others around you, right?"

(He knows everything)

Gilbert: "But you know what I think? No matter how beautiful your heart is, the essence of a person is 'false love."

Gilbert: "They pile on the ugly falsehoods and act as if there is love---when in fact there is no such thing."

Gilbert: "Even your beautiful heart is only a hoax."

Gilbert: "If you stay in a place like the royal court, where your greed is exposed, you will eventually fall."

Gilbert: "I for one, like to see it close up."

Gilbert: "I am curious to see how the most beautiful woman with the most beautiful heart in all of Rhodolite would turn out."

Gilbert: "So be my friend. That way, I will be the closest to you, right?"

(.........I cannot even process what Prince Gilbert is saying)

Prince Gilbert is also trying to get my understanding.

I feel a sense of self-indulgence as if he is just saying what he is thinking anyway.

(After all, what he meant by 'friends' does not seem to have a similar meaning that I know)

Emma: "I'm not sure if I have a beautiful heart or not, but...."

Emma: "No matter what happens, I will remain who I am."

Emma: "I doubt I can live up to Prince Gilbert's expectations."

Gilbert: "Hehe, it's going to be fun."

Emma: "Mm....!?"

He bit my neck again and I squinted painfully.

It was more painful than the previous one and I let out a soft painful cry.

Emma: "Stop biting me!"

Gilbert: "Did that hurt? Sorry."

Gilbert: "I like to leave my mark on my favorite things. It's a sign that you are my friend."

(I don't need this kind of proof)

When I turn around after brushing off Prince Gilbert's hand, I meet his blood-red eyes.

His lips were smiling but his eyes weren't and I couldn't help but look away.

(....Just like a real beast)

(Earlier he described me as having a 'strong sense of love for others'....)

(Maybe, I don't think I can love this Prince)

[ye-local-simp]

Can I request for silver and Sebek some headcanons for finding their crush trying to train in the forest in the middle of the night when really it's more about venting frustration on a poor tree because they lost a fight on campus being one against many and it hit them that they really don't have much self defense skills and how dangerous being here is for them?

[Finding their S/o trying to train]

[SILVER,SEBEK]

Silver:

-Silver is aware of your situation in the campus and as a boyfriend he is very worried.

-But as a student, he knows it isn't possible to be your bodyguard 24/7, even with Malleus.

-So one of his rules to himself is that he will protect you as much as he can.

-The first time you start training, he was actually asleep in a nearby tree so he could hear you venting.

-He listens to you, vent and applies comfort where necessary.

-He promises to help you train if he was awake enough, he promises that he will teach you as much as he knows from his own training.

-He might even get Lilia to help.

-Even if you are stronger now, he will never stop worrying about you.

Sebek:

-Sebek never understood why he fell in love with you, but he is now accepting that fact.

-Sebek thinks every human is weak so naturally he thinks you are weak too.

-But since you are magicless, it makes you even more disadvantaged than your peers.

-Sebek already guards Malleus and that is his duty,so he is sorry that he can't protect you 24/7.

- But when he hears you vent about the students giving you a hard time, he makes sure those students pay for they have done.

-That's also when he decides enough is enough and offers to train you if Malleus is in class or something.

-He knows you can't do fae training, but he can train you as much as a human could so you can at least protect yourself.

-He promises that he will never let you get hurt in his presence.

[justlarkin]

Yoritomo and Yoshitsune backstory!

Poorly Translated: "When was it that I first felt that the smile of my younger sibling was frightening?

Was it when I saw his face for the first time at the war camp on the banks of the Kisegawa River?

My younger brother, whose existence I knew of but had never met, looked at my face and gave me a smile that I could not read.

Then he said, "I want to be useful to my brother, that's all."

At that time, I thought to myself, "this brother is more of a nuisance than useful."

Both of us had the original legitimacy of "the source" and he could only be my political rival in the future.

In the future that I will create, there will be only one true "source," and beyond that, there will only be a struggle for everyone else's "ranking".

And yet, when I saw the hand that was held out to me unprotected, I felt an indescribable chill.

I guess he is just an unpredictable child.... I had no choice but to make that judgment at the time.

But no matter how many times I sent him to the battlefield, he always came back alive. Only with victory in tow, as if nothing happened.

On the battlefield, that child prodigy rode his horse down cliffs where anyone else would fall, turning any disadvantage upside down.

And my brother, many a time, had knelt before me, his eyes shining and smiling, but I gave him no praise.

Of course, it is customary of the samurai class to give credit where credit is due. If you have done something useful for your lord, you should be rewarded.

Then why? Because my brother always brought back the worst of the war with the greatest of the war.

He was good at surprise attacks, which were considered taboo by samurai at the time, and he took the liberty of closing the distance between himself and his political opponents, causing more trouble than ever before.

No matter how much distance you put between you and him, no matter how many times you cut him off, that brother will always come back with his ranking and a smile.....

That's why I didn't believe that he died... Even when my brother never came back that day.

When all of my major political opponents had been destroyed, I sent him off to his death, as I had always done, and he never came back.

Nonsense, there is no way that my brother would die even if he was surrounded by an army hundreds of times his size.

His head arrived? Such things can be faked in a multitude of ways. That is the only brother I fear in this world.

But it was definitely the best timing. With your disappearance, my political system is complete.

The distance between the Emperor and the Shogunate, the separation of prestige from real power, continuing on to eternity....

For this to be completed, my brother, you would have had to disappear from the world.

Oh, how terrifying. I was scared from the bottom of my heart.

If my brother had understood this, if he had done this understanding that...

When we first met, you said, "I want to be useful to my brother, that's all."

Then I must reward you. I must give you what you want."

[nobodyfamousposts]

Chloe’s Lament Part 3

She didn’t know how long she spent ruminating. What drew her out of those thoughts was the sudden shouting from behind her and the exclamation of Bustier ordering Ivan to go to the Principal’s.

…wait…

Yes! Yes, this was it! This was the start of Stoneheart, the first akuma!

This was the start of the previous Ladybug’s debut!

And it would be the beginning of her own!

Chloe was almost squirming in her seat as Ivan was ordered to go to the Principal’s office. She watched eagerly as he stormed out of the room.

Soon, she reminded herself.

Soon…

So caught up in her own plans and imagining all the things she would do with the Miraculous, she didn’t even notice when class was over until everyone was leaving.

That’s right! She had to go, too! Her Miraculous awaited!

Sure, she didn’t know where it would be, but it was supposed to show up when Stoneheart appeared, right?

All the more reason to head out now to start looking!

Or she would if it weren’t for Bustier calling her before she could get out the door.

“Chloe. Do you have a minute?”

No, she didn’t! She had a Miraculous to receive and a city to adore her!

But at Bustier’s expectant look, she turned back with a sigh and walked up to her teacher’s desk. This was just a minor and temporary obstacle. Surely her Miraculous would wait! It wasn’t like there was anyone else fit for the hero role.

Her thoughts shifted to Marinette briefly before she waved them off. Certainly not!

“Did you need something?” She asked. As much of a rush as she was to get her Miraculous, Bustier was her favorite teacher and had always been on her side. The least she could do was allow her a bit of her time.

“I wanted to check in with you before school, but it seemed you had gotten here before I did.” Bustier smiled but her expression seemed tense. “I heard there had been an argument before class started?” She asked gently.

Perfect! Just the opening she needed.

Chloe fixed a hurt expression. “It was awful! Marinette was dictating the roles for the work study and she was going to make Adrien work in the kitchen!”

There! Let’s see how that wannabe responds when the school calls her out on this!

Bustier listened to her cries and nodded in sympathy, so Chloe was sure she had this set.

“What did Adrien say?”

…except for that.

“Pardon?”

“Did Adrien say he didn’t want to work the kitchen?” Bustier asked curiously.

Did he?

“Marinette didn’t give him a chance!” She argued, though truthfully she didn’t remember how he responded at the time. She had just been focusing on calling out Marinette and getting back at her for everything.

“Did you ask Adrien what he wanted?” Bustier asked.

A long pause followed.

The teacher looked at Chloe almost pityingly.

What? What was that look for?!

“I already knew!” Chloe defended. Because she did! Of course she did! She didn’t have to ask! He was her best friend! Of course she knew him better than anyone! So of course she knew what he wanted! “I was just looking out for him!”

It was just to help him! It wasn’t about herself! Wasn’t that good? Didn’t that make her the good guy here? Where was the outrage at Marinette?

“Were you looking out for him or against Marinette?”

Silence.

Bustier sighed.

“Chloe, I know it’s difficult coming back after what happened. And I know you want your feelings to be justified.”

Because they were. Chloe’s feelings were justified, but no one could possibly understand why. She was the only one who knew about the previous reality. 

“—don’t know what you were doing in her locker, though I’m sure you had a reason, you know that wasn’t the right way to go about it—”

How could she even begin to explain what had happened? Of everything she had suffered while Marinette had gotten to play the hero and deny her what was rightfully hers?

“—though I’m sure it was an accident, but the things you said before and afterwards gave everyone the wrong idea—”

No. There was no point trying to explain. Even Bustier wouldn’t get it. Especially not at a time before magic was shown to be real.

“—really tried to argue on your behalf, but you were caught on camera—”

Though it seems like she at least is still on Chloe’s side. Plus there was that time she believed Marinette cheated on the test and did whatever, so clearly her trust in the girl wasn’t that great.

“—have already talked to Marinette about it and she’s willing to try to forgive—”

Plus Bustier was a bleeding heart. She never punished her for anything. Even looking the other way with some of Chloe’s plans. Getting bi-colored hair out of the way so she could be in the class photo next to her Adrikens. Her methods to win the Class Rep position. She never even made her do anything as the Rep. Surely that meant she was on her side, right?

“—but her parents are still very upset. It took a lot of effort to get them to agree to—”

Whatever this ‘probation’ was, it wasn’t like she’d be held to it.

“—advocated to keep you in my class along with her to prove you can do it. I have faith in you—”

Chloe nodded, not really listening, her mind busy formulating new plans.

It didn’t matter that Chloe was starting at a slight disadvantage. She could work around this.

“—so I hope you can understand—”

It meant that she just had to keep under the radar as Chloe.

And complete her revenge through the mask of Ladybug.

All the better.

After all, what better irony would it be than to ruin Marinette by using her own former hero persona against her?

“—what your counselor has been telling you—”

Chloe shook her head, realizing she had missed out on what Bustier was saying. And one word in particular stuck out to her.

“Counselor?”

Bustier looked surprised at Chloe’s own surprise, then worried. “Please tell me you haven’t been skipping your sessions, Chloe. Those are part of the requirements per the agreement for you to continue coming to school here.”

Chloe blinked in shock.

“What?!”

“I was able to argue for you to stay in my classes, and the administration agreed to keep you on a probationary period, but these are part of the conditions, Chloe.” Bustier explained. She sounded particularly anxious about it, causing it to really hit Chloe just how serious this was. “You need to see your counselor weekly and you need to not antagonize any of the other students, especially Marinette. Her parents were willing to accept the arrangement and not demand a hearing with the school board to have you expelled, but there is only so much the school can accommodate.”

No…no way…

How could she start off with things this bad for her already?

Wait…was this Marinette’s fault, too? Had she framed Chloe somehow?

Bustier rested a hand on Chloe’s shoulder in some attempt at reassurance.

“I want to continue to work with you, Chloe. But please…you need to at least try.” She said more than asked, but was still pleading. “Marinette has been willing to forgive, but if her parents hear anything more about you antagonizing her, this will be your last strike and they may very well demand your expulsion. Maybe even press charges.”

“Press charges?!”

But no one had ever pressed charges against her! She had never even had a detention before! And now she was facing this immediately?

“They aren’t going to!” Bustier assured her. “Believe me, no one wants that!”

Clearly Marinette did, the evil bit—

Bustier crouched, just enough to be eye level with her.

“Chloe, things aren’t over yet. We want you to have the best chance for your future. That’s why I’m working with you this year and why you have a counselor to help you with all these feelings you’re having a hard time with. And that’s why you need to take this as a new chance and do your best with it.”

Bustier looked at her hopefully.

“Do you understand?”

Yes, she understood clearly.

She understood that this world was ridiculous, UTTERLY RIDICULOUS!

This was not at all what she had wished for and she would be having words with that little kwami as soon as she got the Miraculous!

But as she couldn’t exactly explain any of that to Bustier, she simply nodded numbly and returned to her seat. There, she looked over her notebooks. And when Bustier wasn’t focusing on her, she glanced over her phone. Really, she should have done that first thing as soon as she woke up, and she regretted not doing so sooner.

What she found was…illuminating…

Chloe had gotten it completely wrong.

It wasn’t that Marinette was a threat. Or that she was abusing her power to bully Chloe. Or just doing any of the things that Chloe had assumed she would.

It was that Chloe herself was on thin ice for a history of bullying and harassment. And this time around, as a normal girl without her former clout, people were not as inclined to overlook her behavior. Especially when the girl in question being targeted was the daughter of the Mayor and also unexpectedly well regarded (not loved, because surely it had to be the position that made people hate Chloe originally, right?)

Marinette may not have been willing to demand punishment for whatever reason--probably to look good to the peons, but the school administration, being the cronies that they were, would hardly risk the liability of something happening to the child of an official under their care.

She left the class but honestly didn’t know where she was going. She was running on autopilot at this point as everything finally started to sink in about the new reality she was in. Nothing was as she expected. If anything, it was worse!

She just needed her Miraculous! Everything would be fine when—

“Chloe?”

Speak of the devil…

She had nearly bumped into the very girl her thoughts were raging against.

“Chloe?” Marinette asked. “Are you okay?”

No! No, she wasn’t! Everything was wrong and nothing was how it was supposed to be and it was all her fault!

“What do you want?” Chloe demanded sourly.

Marinette held out a hand but hesitated. She drew back but instead pressed on verbally. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed confused earlier, and—

Yeah, cutting that nonsense off right now! If she thought pretending to care would spare her once Chloe became the Ladybug hero, she had another thing coming! And there was no way she was going to let the traitor use her to try and make herself look better by acting nice.

Chloe sharply cut her off. If Marinette hadn’t pulled her own hand back, it would have been slapped away with Chloe’s motion.

“Stop faking! There’s no way a spoiled brat who is given everything by her parents would help others! You’re just as crooked as they are!” She shouted.

Because that’s what Marinette had to be! What she always must have been! Why else would she hoard all the Miraculous to herself and not give Chloe what was hers?!

Marinette looked at Chloe almost…pityingly.

That witch was looking down on her!

“I don’t know what is upsetting you, Chloe. But I’m not responsible for your problems. You can lash out for as little as it actually makes you feel better, but I don’t have to take it.”

Don’t have to—DON’T HAVE TO—!!!

Chloe pointed at her angrily. “It’s because of you that I’m having to see a counselor!”

And Marinette sighed! Sighed! Like she was the one being put upon here! Bad enough she stole Chloe’s life, but now she was trying to act like she was the wronged party, here!

“Chloe, the alternative was a restraining order and another fine. And I’m pretty sure your dad can’t keep paying them. All things considered, I think you got off lucky.”

Chloe broke off sputtering, wanting nothing more than to put the other girl in her place but having no way to do so without revealing anything.

Marinette stared her straight on, unperturbed.

“Whatever you’re facing now is a result of your own actions.”

How dare she?! Like she knows anything!

Who was she to talk?!

“Oooh!” Chloe stomped her foot before storming off.

She’d show her!

Just wait! Once she got her Miraculous, she would tear her down in every way possible and she would enjoy it! And THEN Ladybug would be sorry! She would regret ever denying Chloe!

She just needed—

From a distance, she could hear crashing and the sound of screams echoing through the school. Many people ran past her in terror. And peeking out, she caught sight of what could only be Stoneheart rampaging through the school. 

“No doubt looking for what’s-his-name.” She muttered. She hadn’t really cared to know the details of that first akuma attack aside from her involvement in it.

But still, there was an akuma, just as expected! Which signaled the first appearance of the heroes!

She smirked.

This was it! That meant she should be getting her Miraculous at any time now! She just had to wait for whoever to deliver it to her!

So she waited in place, grinning with excitement the entire time.

And waited.

And waited.

And…waited.

Waiting…

…

…

…

…but nobody came.

“WHAT GIVES?!”

How was she supposed to become a hero if her power-granting jewelry didn’t show up? How did Marinette get it originally anyway? She seemed close to that old guy…wasn’t he supposed to show up by now? She hasn’t seen any old guy!

“Where is it already?!”

Well, someone had to deliver it, right? Maybe they just didn’t know where she was and left it somewhere she could find…which meant she had to be the one to search.

“I can’t believe this!”

Nothing in her locker.

“What kind of service is this anyway?”

Her desk was empty.

“Is this how you treat your hero?”

With little other options, she stormed home in a huff—not like classes would happen anyway with a giant stone monster running around. She didn’t even need to bother checking, as it was what happened last time. And if the way everyone was running around was any indication, it would no doubt be the same now.

She couldn’t afford to waste anymore time. Her moment had come! And that meant her Miraculous was here!

She flung open the door to her room.

…somewhere.

“Where is it?”

Not on her desk.

“Where is it?!”

Not on or under her bed.

“Why would they make it so hard to find?!”

Really, she should be handed it on a golden platter as everyone begs her to save them! It shouldn’t be this difficult! And she shouldn’t be having to actually have to search herself!

That’s what the servants were for! Or Sabrina.

She was determined, however! Nothing would stop her, even a messy room! So she continued her search, throwing this or that aside—they weren’t a Miraculous, they didn’t matter.

She didn’t even notice that one of the items she tossed was a remove, which landed in such a way that it turned on the nearby TV.

“Maybe it’s in my closet?” She wondered.

That made sense. After all, once she got all the Miraculous, she’d be able to switch them out as easily as a pair of shoes. She would probably need to leave them in the closet when she’s not using them.

She opened the closet doors, giving a grimace at the small space and her much more limited wardrobe. It was so much smaller than her old one!

She briefly mourned the loss of the space and all of her top-brand designers as she forced herself to dig through the various clothes and accessories.

Not this.

Not that.

Ew! She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that!

“—stone monster has been defeated!”

Chloe froze.

What?!

But she hadn’t even made her appearance yet!

Chloe spun around, nearly tripping over some shoes in her escape from the closet. All to get a closer look at the screen because clearly it was some cartoon or show or something. It was a mistake! It had to be a mistake!

But no, there was that news anchor—whatever-her-name-was. And behind her was a video of her classmate—Jim? Ryan? Whatever the rock monster had been, now back to normal—or as normal as anyone could be in THAT tacky shirt and getup!

And next to him…

A boy in black—blond but in a distinctly different getup from her Adrikens.

And a girl.

In red.

Red and black.

Ladybug!

It wasn’t the Ladybug she knew. It couldn’t be. She had just seen the now Ex-Ladybug in the halls!

The new hero’s hair was as red as her suit with a black headband—almost like a tiara. Her mask was a mix of red and black. Her suit was a black bodysuit with red accents—with her hands covered in gloves that seemed to be red and red boots that reached just above her shin. And the collar of the suit seemed to expand into a sort of dress that lengthened in the back, which when she turned appeared more like a cape that was red in color. Like a Ladybug’s shell.

And of course, the outfit was sparse with spots of differing colors, with multiple black spots on her red cape and single red dots center on her gloves and the peaks of her boots.

And looking closely—to the point she was literally pressed up against the screen, she could swear that the spots were all…in the shape of hearts, of all things? How juvenile!

But there was no mistaking it!

That was Ladybug. Maybe not the same Ladybug as before, but still the Ladybug Miraculous! It hadn’t been waiting for her like it was supposed to. It had gone to—been stolen by someone else!

They had made her tear up her room for nothing!

“—day has been saved thanks to the combined efforts of Red Queen and Cheshire! Paris’s new heroes!”

Chloe felt something crack. It may have been her TV.

Not only did this upstart steal her place as the city’s hero. And her rightful victory over the Ex-Ladybug by taking her place…

She took her title as Queen!

“How dare she?!”

Bad enough to injure her this way, but to insult her, too?!

At this point, she didn’t even know whether she was more angry with this faker or with Marinette!

She froze at that as the realization hit her…

Chloe didn’t have the Ladybug.

She wouldn’t be able to fix anything.

Her Wish had switched her with Marinette so she could make the other girl experience the burdens of her life while she could become the hero and make her suffer for her past life’s crimes.

But rather than hated, Marinette was actually well liked by their classmates and just in general. A few internet searches had pulled up Marinette using her power over others much as Chloe had in the past, so it wasn’t like they were any different! But apparently cancelling talks to make a new building for a corporate gym chain in order to keep a lame old skating rink open was good somehow! And forcing people to do backbreaking labor to plant trees on a Saturday! And that work study program at her Dad’s hotel! That was just free child labor!

The fact that Chloe had done the same thing in the previous timeline only with putting people in the suckier jobs had no bearing on this!

Chloe growled, clenching her fists and shaking at the injustice of it all.

And while Marinette was getting to live it up, meanwhile, poor Chloe herself was despised and about two steps away from a criminal record for things that weren’t even her fault! She couldn’t even enjoy the one nice thing about Marinette’s original position of becoming a hero and being popular! And any attempts to call out Marinette for her evils only made HER look like the bad guy!

Becoming Ladybug had been her only chance to fix this. She could have used it to promote herself. To tear down Marinette. Even to go back to the previous reality where she could still be Miracle Queen if nothing else! But now she didn’t even have that! Whatever stupid power in charge of this must be broken somehow!

This meant…

Marinette had won before Chloe even had a chance to do anything.

And now there was nothing Chloe could do about it.

She didn’t have the Ladybug. She was going to need a new TV. She didn’t have any of her previous life’s accommodations or riches to replace them. Nobody liked her. Her Daddykins had no influence to help her. Her Mother was still in New York.

There was only one thing she could count on, she realized as she picked up a picture frame.

“At least I always have you.”

The picture of Adrien stared back at her, flat and unblinking.

________________

Once upon a timeline, son of a fashion mogul, Adrien Agreste, was a popular model who was sad and cut off from the world, being isolated except for his only friend: daughter of the Mayor and the Style Queen, Chloe Bourgeois.

But someone didn’t like that story, so they changed it.

So once upon a timeline, son of a fashion mogul, Adrien Agreste, who only sometimes took part in his fathers business had two friends: daughter of the Mayor, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and daughter of the Style Queen, Chloe Bourgeois.

He was sad and cut off from the world for a time, true. But the current Mayor was a big believer of children having normal healthy childhoods and was not as inclined to ignore child labor laws. And her daughter, while happy to be his friend, was similarly a big believer of healthy childhoods and not as inclined to be Adrien’s only friend.

Being on good terms with the family, Sabine and Tom convinced Gabriel and Emilie to cut down on the modeling and activities for their son to let him go to school and spend time around kids his age. And being on good terms with Adrien himself, Marinette convinced him to interact with his various classmates and introduced him to a number of peers.

What followed was the beginning of beautiful—if not headache-inducing friendships.

A couple of years made all the difference. So much so that by the time that particularly Miraculous school year started, Adrien had already been going to school for a good couple of years. Long enough to become settled, join clubs, and make his own friends. Ones outside of Marinette and Chloe and their social circles.

Adrien Agreste was popular. Not the kind of popularity that comes with hundreds of fans chasing him down the street, thankfully, which he would certainly appreciate if he knew about. But rather, his popularity was the general school variety that came with a guy who was good looking and kind to everyone.

Adrien was, to put it simply, quite happy. And not at all alone.

He would play sports with Kim and Alix. Study with Max and Sabrina. Geek out over books and anime with Marc and Jean. Play games with Max and Nino. Blabber on about heroes and comics with Nathaniel and Mirelle. 

And of course, there was Marinette.

Adrien would be lying if he said he never had…some feelings for Marinette.

She was the one who had helped to convince his father to let him join public school three years ago. While it may have been possible for the man to argue with an hour long presentation complete with a fifty slide PowerPoint explaining why public school was beneficial for children including statistics and psychological studies, it was substantially more difficult for him to argue with the girl’s mother when she was both the Mayor and a close enough family friend. It couldn’t be sure which of the two had been the final push that had convinced Emilie, but once she was on board, Gabriel couldn’t help but cave soon after.

Either way, Adrien was grateful to his friend.

…and a bit smitten. Not that he could tell her that. Especially the way she would stick her tongue out when she was so focused on a drawing. Or how beautiful she looked when she took charge of a project. Or how cute she was the way she would get annoyed when she’d catch him wearing the worst possible combination from his closet, which was made all the better partly because it made his Father look ready to have a coronary as well. Plus it helped that she’d drag him to her house at the first opportunity to salvage his outfit into something bearable. He didn’t have to, but he let her every time.

She was adorable like that. And at least he wasn’t alone since it seemed many of his other friends had admitted a crush on her at some point that never went anywhere. He doubted he’d be different.

After all, he was admittedly a sucker for the childhood friend to lovers trope in anime—which made him all the more bummed that they hardly ever worked out.

And since he was apparently the equivalent of an anime protagonist now if his new little companion was any indication…

He looked down at his bag, where his new little friend smirked up at him.

…yeah, he didn’t want to risk it.

Especially given some of the things the little cat-god had told him.

“What do you mean we’ve done this before?” Adrien asked, rather confused to say the least.

“Yeah, it didn’t work out last time.” The creature—Plagg, replied. Though not actually answering his question in any way.

He looked up at Adrien with a smirk.

“But things will be different this go around. We’ve made sure of it.” He then turned away, muttering darkly something Adrien couldn’t hear about some “brat” and a “surprise”.

“O…kay?” He didn’t get it, but okay?

Plagg shook his head before turning back and floating up to eye level with him. “Just change up your suit, ditch the bell, and don’t call yourself Chat Noir and things will be fine.” It told him.

“But why?” Admittedly, his first thought had been “Wild Pussycat” due to his current favorite fandom, but Chat Noir actually sounded really cool.

“Trust me, kid. It’ll help.”

And apparently it had, since he’d met his partner and they’d defeated that monster easily enough.

Plus Adrien did rather like the Wonderland theme they agreed on.

He had been excited about the adventure—what teenage boy wouldn’t be? Still, it was a relief to return to the school the next day and find everyone safe and sound.

Mostly.

Ivan admittedly wasn’t having the best time, unfortunately. He was being crowded by everyone and questioned about the incident by the time Adrien had arrived. Everyone was clearly worried and no one knew for sure what had happened. Marinette in particular was being supportive.

Chloe was…not.

“—monster!”

“He’s not a monster!” Marinette countered defensively. “He doesn’t even remember what happened!”

“He could just be saying that!” Chloe yelled, pointing at Ivan. “Once a monster, always a monster!”

“Hey, back off, Chloe.” Alya said, stepping in front of her. “It’d not like Ivan asked to become a stone golem, and besides, any damage was erased and he’s back to normal.”

Adrien sighed. He was going to have to play mediator again, wasn’t he?

“Hey, Chloe?” He asked benignly, stepping up to her. “If you’re worried he’ll transform again, maybe upsetting him isn’t a good idea? We don’t know what caused it or if it was a one time thing.”

Actually, he did know. But given what Plagg had told him about how the akumas worked, he didn’t want to risk Ivan getting reakumatized. And he couldn’t very well come out and say any of that until this Hawk Moth guy revealed himself and the city as a whole had a better idea how his powers worked.

“Of course, it—” She suddenly cut off, as if realizing something. “Whatever!”

With that, she turned and stomped off.

What was her deal?

Still, everyone else was uncertain of what else to do and with class about to start, several other classmates chose to leave as well. Soon, the previously larger crowd had only a couple people left. Adrien, for his part, figured he should step back and give Ivan some space.

Marinette took advantage of the opportunity the lack of crowd gave to push Kim forward. The taller boy began nervously apologizing while Marinette sat by Ivan as support.

Adrien sighed in relief as he walked away.

Marinette was a wonderful friend. 

Chloe, on the other hand…

___________________

Speaking of Chloe, the girl in question had realized a few minutes after she had stormed off that in her anger, she hadn’t kept track of where she was going and had apparently gone the complete opposite direction of her next class.

Seriously! She knew more than anyone! They should be flocking to her for answers and instead, everyone was focusing on Kim! Or what’s his-name! Rocker boy! Sure, he was only going to be the first of many akumas, but nobody else knew that! She thought she could use that to boost her status by confronting the “threat”!

Last time, she had led the crowd by calling him out for what he had done. Yet much like many things, that had gone wrong this time as well! Instead of rallying behind her against the clear threat only she knew about, most of the people were giving her the side-eye. And of course Marinette freaking Chang had to be the one to act against her!

Really! She was the victim here and nobody even knew it! Thanks to that new Red Queen stealing her rightful place, Chloe had lost everything! And she couldn’t even TELL anyone! Now what was she supposed to do?

She growled, smacking a wall with her fist.

And now she would have to walk all the way back! And she couldn’t just skip classes for the day to make them suffer without her presence for siding against her; the school wouldn’t allow it. Which meant she would have to face everyone again. And walk in these old shoes that were murder on her poor feet!

Oh, the life of suffering she lived!

She trudged back through the hallway the way she came, taking a slightly different route—just in case the others were still where she left them. She didn’t want it to seem like she was intentionally coming back or anything. That would just be letting them think they were right.

“That was something earlier, huh?”

“Yeah. Poor Ivan.”

She paused. Up ahead was a connecting hallway that led to another path to her classroom. And she could hear voices from around the corner.

One of them was Adrikens!

She almost felt herself floating forward, her feet no longer in pain and her shoes no longer a trouble to her. Adrikens always made things better! And surely he of all people would understand her misery!

She peaked. Sure enough, there he was. Her precious friend! The only one she could count on!

But she didn’t recognize the other boy with him. It wasn’t Nino. She couldn’t not know if it was him due to how his name was engraved upon her psyche with how much Adrikens would talk about him.

The other boy grumbled, though Chloe barely took notice of what he had to say. Not until he started talking about her.

“I can’t believe Chloe. Well, I can, because that’s nothing new for her. What a…”

Gasp! How rude! Who did he think he was? He was luck he cut off or she would have had his parents’ jobs!

She winced, remembering that she couldn’t do that anymore.

…well, she’d cause him some repercussions, anyway.

But unaware of her, he kept going, turning to Adrien.

“Dude, why do you even put up with her?” The loser asked.

How rude! She wasn’t someone he had to ‘put up with’, she was a joy to be around! Of course her Adrikens adored her! And he would no doubt admonish that low class nobody for talking about her in such a way!

‘Because I’m his best friend,’ Chloe thought smugly.

Of course Adrien would be on her side.

Because she was his best friend.

Because they were each other’s only friends for years.

Because they’re the only ones who understand each other.

Because even if everything else changed, that was one thing that would remain true.

He would never abandon her.

Chloe Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste—them against the world!

“Honestly, I don’t even know anymore.”

She froze.

"I mean, we used to be friends, but that was more because her parents were friends with mine. Right now her Mom is my Dad's business associate and I kind of have to be nice to her or she could complain or something."

"Oh yeah. She did threaten to run to 'Daddy' earlier. Stands to reason she'd use 'Mommy' the same. But do you really think her Mom would care that much?"

"I don't want to risk it. Being in school the past three years has been like a dream. The last thing I want is to lose it all because Chloe threw a tantrum."

He sighed.

“Besides, I do feel bad for her. I mean…she’s alienated pretty much everyone she’s ever been in a class with and I’m the only one who will even talk to her.”

“The only one who can, you mean.” The other said snarkily. “She insults anyone else who even looks at her.”

He shook his head. “She doesn’t have any friends. And it’s just…sad.”

“Dude, that’s not your fault.”

“I know that now. She was always a...” He hesitated for a moment before spitting it out, “well...a brat. I’m honestly not sure I ever liked her. I just hung out with her at the time because she was the first kid my age to interact with and I was told to. Back then, I thought that was enough to make us friends. That that was what friendship was supposed to be.”

“Thank God for Mari and her mom.”

“Tell me about it!”

His words were like a blade piercing her heart from behind.

One after another, they stabbed her.

And he—her only friend, completely unaware, he just kept going.

“When we were kids, neither of us knew better. But while I grew up, she…didn’t.”

That…that wasn’t right!

None of that was right!

Adrien sighed. “And I really wish she would.”

Chloe didn’t even realize she had lost all feeling in her legs until she had slumped to the ground.

He…

He really thought that?

About her?

“I try to step in and help her when I can. Partly because I feel obligated to since we were close once, but mostly because I know she would just make things worse if I didn’t. I mean, you know what she did with Mari when she got mad. But honestly…I’m really tired of it. Of having to pacify her, the way she grabs me, her stupid ‘Adrikens’ nickname, and just…dealing with her. All of it.”

He sighed again.

“But who knows how much worse she’d be otherwise?”

“Dude, you’re not some sacrificial lamb here.” The other boy assured him. “And besides, you heard, didn’t you? Chloe’s been reprimanded and she’s only still in school on a trial period. If she does anything and people complain, she’ll be out of here and you won’t have to deal with her anymore.”

A weak chuckle. Her Adrikens—Adrien actually laughed at that.

“I’d feel bad if I said I was looking forward to it.”

The other boy laughed at that. “Y’know, I had a dream last night where she announced she was leaving Paris.”

“Sounds like a good dream.” Adrien replied, not even missing a beat.

“I know! I almost didn’t want to wake up!”

The two left, with Adrien just…continuing to chat and laugh and joke like they were best friends and like they weren’t making fun of Chloe who was supposed to be his best friend whose side he was supposed to be on no matter what…

But…

Where was he just then? Where was his defense of her? Where was his declaration that he was still her friend no matter what? Where was his insistence that she wasn’t as bad as people think? Where was his lecture of that boy for speaking ill of her? Where was his disappointment of the others for being mean and wanting her gone? Where was his promise?

...Where was her Adrien?

That was what finally broke through.

Chloe sobbed.

It wasn’t just Adrien. That was simply the last straw.

Marinette had Chloe’s life and was apparently happier than she ever was in the previous life—happier than Chloe had been even! Someone else was the Ladybug hero and had taken her title as ‘Queen’. She didn’t have a Miraculous. She didn’t have Pollen. Her Father wasn’t the Mayor. Her Mother was still in New York. And everything was…

Everything that had made Chloe Bourgeois who she was was gone. 

What was she, after all?

Chloe Bourgeois was rich.

She was the Daughter of the Mayor.

She was the Princess of Paris.

Without that…who was she?

Who was this new Chloe Bourgeois she had become?

She wasn’t feared. She wasn’t respected. She wasn't in any way liked. She was an annoyance at best. An irritant. A bug to them. Someone to be avoided.

And in Adrien’s case…pitied.

That, more than anything, was what hurt the most.

Adrien didn’t love her. He didn’t even like her.

And maybe…

“…I hate you, Chloe.”

…he never had.

…

“You’re the sort of person who is never satisfied with anything.”

…did he ever care about her at all?

“Whatever you do. Whatever world you create. My feelings won’t change.”

Had he…been trying to warn her?

“It won’t be real, Chloe. Whatever we had…whatever you would call it is already gone.”

She slowly pulled herself up. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going at this point, but she didn’t want to be there anymore. She was deaf to everything but the pounding of her own heart and the memory of Adrien’s words.

“Chloe, you don’t know what friends are!”

…

“And I didn’t know better before because I only ever had you. But since I’ve started school, I’ve learned what friendship is!”

…

 “I wish I had learned it sooner.”

Well…it looked like he had gotten his wish. Seeing him now, surrounded by people in a way he had never been before. Not even just Nino this time, but others from other classes.

He looked happy.

…had he ever looked that happy when he was with her?

She bit her lip.

That liar.

He…he was a traitor!

Just like Ladybug!

Just like all of them!

She looked up to the sound of cheers.

From the angle she was at, she could see her classmates gathered close to the doorway of the classroom. Apparently rocker boy and rainbow-haired girl were together now? Oh yeah, that had happened around this time like time, hadn’t it? Wasn’t he supposed to have been akumatized a second time first, though?

It didn’t seem to matter. They were holding hands. And the others were going on about how great it was. And Adrien was congratulating them just as much as everyone else. And they were all just so damn happy.

And there was Marinette, in the middle of it all. Smiling.

And not once did she even look at her.

Chloe could only watch on as they ignored her. As Marinette brushed her off like it didn’t matter while she got to carry on with what had been Chloe’s life. Still kind. Still friendly. Still popular. And somehow even more despicably perfect than before now that she had taken Chloe’s place.

All that…having everything that made Chloe who she was, and somehow, she was still so…disgustingly happy.

Not despised. Not unloved. Not a hateful, selfish person. Not…anything like Chloe.

“Marinette is a better Ladybug—a better person than you ever will be. And that’s because she chooses to be kind! Regardless of the circumstances!”

 …

 “Even if your positions were switched, that wouldn’t change.”

It…

It wasn’t fair.

IT WASN’T FAIR!

_________________________

The Universe is a director. It doesn’t alter the script, merely the parts. When someone demands a different role, the most it will do is swap people around to put them in places that best fulfill the demand. And if the ones who saw fit to make demands didn’t like their new roles...well...

The Universe didn’t particularly like critics.

So the critic wanted the baker girl’s life? That was fine.

After all, the critic’s father had two roles.

One for two. Two in one.

Why not split the difference and see what comes of it?

At least, that was what it figured. And it turned out pretty well in its not so humble opinion.

The city had a steadfast leader. The hotel had a caring manager. The bakery had a decent owner. The heroes were both the same and different. The sad male lead would get to display greater range. The former hero got to take a break after carrying the entire production previously. And the invisible actor would get a chance to step out of a shadow and finally shine.

And if the little critic didn’t like it, maybe she shouldn’t have complained?

Some people just didn’t appreciate what they were given.

The Universe nodded to itself and turned its attention to the new heroic duo, curious as to what would come of this new dynamic.

It was getting bored of the old love square anyway...

[anarkissm]

continuity on claudette’s timeline and life before the fog! featuring lore crumbs from her cosmetics.

for the new year, claudette was invited to attend the exclusive Winter Gala at the Montreal Metropolitan Science Center. she pampered herself for the occasion, eager to discuss her role at the Montreal Metropolitan Science Center as the leader of its emerging tutoring program. proudly representing the Science Centre's educational mission and sharing how science had changed her life.

the Montreal Metropolitan Science Center seems to be inspired by the actual Montréal Science Centre in vieux port. it officially opened in 2000, and then in 2001: it created the Montréal Science Centre Foundation, supporting the development of innovative exhibition projects and educational programs, offering an annual sponsorship program that introduces science and technology to nearly 10,000 young people from disadvantaged backgrounds. 2001 would most likely be the year she attended the gala and announced her involvement in the tutoring program. ultimately setting her canon timeline (and year/era that the entity had taken her) in the early 2000s.

claudette had come from a working class family, evidenced by her "science girl” superhero costume lovingly hand-sewn by her mother. and the shoe-box apartment she had come home to, after taking the bus from primary school (in her archive lore: claudette’s 8th birthday).

she would have likely grown up in ville-marie, in a neighborhood within walkable distance to the science center. a diverse borough comprising all of downtown montreal, including the quartier des spectacles; old montreal and the old port, etc.. as an arts and entertainment district, the quarter des spectacles is relevant to claudette’s lore continuity because she has canonically attended art festivals:

 a full on makeover for the botanist formerly known as Science Girl, worn as part of her city's outdoor theatre festival: stunning all-natural curls complemented with colored shades. a belly-baring top paired with a custom designed hoodie & pendant from the shops of st. laurent. baggy sweatpants for ultimate movement and a pair of reliable canvas sneakers that are flexibly worn in.

implying claudette’s life in montreal was fulfilling, happy, and relatively social after her 8th birthday, specifically as her parents began to fully accept that she is neurodivergent!  she was the leader of a prestigious science program where she was honored as the star guest at their exclusive gala. she would go out dancing after “a long day of science,” and she participated in outdoor plays. claudette would never be considered an extrovert, but she understood the value of engaging with her community and the humanities.

but, over time, especially after moving away from montreal to attend university as a grad student (completely separated from her home, her support system, and forced to change strict routines she had set for herself over the years), claudette became more and more solitary, burnt out of socially masking:

claudette is not the outgoing type. her brilliance provided her with a social handicap and she has fled the real world for chat rooms and forums.

chat rooms and forums were extremely popular in the early 2000s, specifically before the 2010s when social media platforms began trending aggressively. forums were at their peak in 2005, and chat rooms primarily died out in 2007. putting the time-frame of her abduction by the entity somewhere around this time! she was most likely taken by the entity after she was accepted into an internship program in biochemistry:

she was starting her internship at one of the leading centers in biochemical research. [wore] comfy clothes to keep warm while collecting samples in the wild. loose jeans with wide pockets and a utility belt to carry all her equipment around.

her internship seemed to be hands-on, working with nature itself in field research. collecting samples— raw data— and processing it into information. she was eventually allowed to lead her own field research project, working out of a cabin in southern quebec’s new england-acadian forests, far removed from urban life. where she studied extinct fungi:

she left the city behind. it was rainy when she reached the cabin— perfect for her research on the growth cycles of extinct mushrooms. this wet, grey weather would make them pop in the mossy forest bed. the forest felt like home. it was so much more than trees and grass and plants. she saw what it took to create life, a fragile and multilayered ecosystem that fascinated her.

living alone in a cabin in the woods is not easy. objectively, it is not even considered safe. the predictable setting of a horror movie. but claudette is familiar with solitude, with that eight-year-old child inside her that could spend hours observing plants and animals, uninterrupted. incentivized to live independently in order to prove something to herself, and her worried parents. she took a 15-week training course in medical emergency response; fixed the leak in the cabin’s ceiling; hiked regularly, split wood for the cast-iron fireplace, gathered supplies. checked her emails. a steady routine was good. comforting, to an extent.

from the research cabin, claudette cultivated and studied several extinct fungi. in particular: paleoophiocordyceps coccophagus, related to ophiocordyceps, a parasitic fungi that targets ants, altering their behavior in order to propagate itself, biochemically instructing the ant to kill itself and then growing its fruiting bodies from the ant's head to release its spores.

her research allowed her to understand the neural mechanisms of all organic life and how they interact with their perceived environment, as carbon-based lifeforms on earth. science allowed her to understand that organic life depends entirely on the illusion of the flesh, and its sensory constructs.

her passion for botany and science makes her a formidable survivor, like the other scientists: vigo, benedict baker, etc.... and a potential threat to the entity’s cruel simulations.