#but that doesn’t mean that I think that French is a superior language

[fierce-little-miana]

So the other day I was discussing the title of my novel with my grandparents. I mentioned the idea of having it centering around the idea of “the house” without managing to find any phrasing to my liking.

My grandfather half-jokingly proposed “why don’t you called it The widow’s [local Occitan word for a small house]?”. I asked him what it meant, he answered “house”. I asked him if it was a big house and he told me no. Then he told me I could use the word “castèl” for a very big house with towers (as you might have guessed, it means castle).

After that the conversation naturally went toward Occitan and I said that I would like to learn to speak it at least a little. He then once again half-jokingly told me that it was a shame that I never met his father because he would have been able to teach me (since it was his mother tongue).

On this my grandmother thought it was imperative to comment that my great-grandfather actually did not speak Occitan but [local Occitan dialect] which was just a patois. Patois (sort of synonym to dialect) is a pretty derogatory word to talk about regional languages in France. I answered to her that since Occitan did not go through the same standardization as French did during the 19th century, [local Occitan dialect] is in fact Occitan and a totally accepted version of Occitan by the institutions trying to safeguard the language. [local Occitan dialect] is not just a subpar language but a legitimate way of speaking Occitan. We did not debate further but it was pretty obvious that she wasn’t completely convinced and that for her my great-grandfather did not speak proper Occitan (which she considers to be a “proper” language) but just a patois.

My grandmother is pretty well-educated and keeps herself up to date on a lot of subjects. So I am amazed that apparently she still considers our own regional language as nothing more than a mere patois despite obviously having heard and internalized a lot of the deconstruction of French hegemonic cultural significance in all of France (otherwise she would not even consider Occitan to be a proper language). Like damn, this thing runs deep.

[reiding-writing]

i can totally see Spencer buying tickets for a movie and asking cold!reader to go with him cuz he knows she'd say yes

À BIENTOT— SPENCER REID!

spencer takes an opportunity to get closer to you based on nothing more than a passing comment.

spencer reid x cold!reader | fluff | 2.2k | cold!reader masterlist

a/n— this may be a tiny bit of self projection bc i’m trying to pick up my french again (ça ne marche pas)

main masterlist.

It’s a quiet day in the office. Quieter than usual for a Friday.

Quiet enough in fact, that you actually had time to take the whole hour of lunch that you were technically mandated to have every single day.

Most of it was still spent at your desk, although with a book in your hands instead of a case file. A distraction, maybe, but not a very optimistic one.

It wasn’t long before you had company. Spencer wasn’t really a ‘socialist’ in the physical sense of the word, and once he’d had enough of sitting in the kitchen eye with the group he too had decided to retreat back to the bullpen.

There’s a tinge of curiosity as he spotted you, sat cross-legged in your chair with both elbows leant on your desk and an open book in hand.

“Auschwitz and After?” He had to tilt his head to see the cover, but his ‘question’, his assessment, was confident.

You hum passively, like you’d already known he was coming over despite his quiet footsteps and your eyes trained on the pages. He’s not too surprised, it wasn’t very easy to catch you off guard.

“What drew you to it?” Spencer questioned, his gaze leaving your blank expression as it went back to observing the book in your hands, scanning the words on the pages.

“Practicing my french,”

Simple and to the point, and to your credit it made sense—when Spencer was knee-deep in a book he didn’t want to interrupt that focus either.

“You’ve read it before?” Socialist he may not be, but he wasn’t ready to leave you in your solitude yet.

“In English,” You turn the page with another small hum. “Doesn’t really count,”

Spencer hummed in agreement.

He could go on for hours about why reading a text in its intended language was superior to reading its translation. How much meaning and sub-context is lost in the transition between languages and completely distort the original meaning.

But you didn’t need to hear that. You already knew it.

So he didn’t say anything, instead choosing to focus his gaze on your face for a few more minutes, wondering if he’d be able to read the emotion on your face like he was so used to doing.

There was still nothing though. No facial twitch. No eyebrow raised. Nothing to indicate what you were thinking.

It was almost like your face was carved from marble.

If he thought about it too much he’d probably say your face deserved to be carved into marble, to keep a relic of you perfect and untouched forever.

But that was a bit too much for him to settle with.

Spencer shifted nervously on his feet, trying to think of something else to say to rid of the silence that was leaving him with his own overthinking.

“Hey— uh— There’s this um— If you’re wanting to brush up on your french—”

“Spit it out, Reid,” Your voice isn’t as harsh as it is blunt. You appreciated conciseness, although you’d never cut him out of a tangent unless it was something that was unproductive.

This one definitely was.

“Uh— Right, right,” he stumbled over his words for a moment before finally taking a deep, steadying breath. “There’s this movie coming out in a few weeks— well technically it came out in France back in May but—”

Spencer’s words came out so fast in his rush to just get to the point, that, for a moment, he was worried that you would only understand half of what he was saying.

“Reid,” You hold up your hand towards him as an indication for him to stop, before moving your hand in a single spiral as a non-verbal instruction for him to breathe.

His rambling stopped almost immediately, and if he had the conscience to be embarrassed, he most definitely would be at how readily he follows your order to take a second to calm down.

Especially considering you still hadn’t even turned your eyes up from your reading in the process.

Still, he follows you with no hesitation, and once you signal for him to continue, he starts back up again, slower this time.

“‘L’armée du crime’, uh, ‘The Army of Crime’, it’s only being shown in a few select theatres here in DC, but—”

The words came out slightly more measured this time, although that little hint of the usual rambling was still, very much present.

“It’s in the original French,” he continued after a beat, his previous hesitation slowly disappearing under the knowledge you weren’t put off by him just yet.

“With subtitles, of course— but still, the entire— dialogue is in— is in French.”

He exhales heavily.

“I was thinking of going to see it.”

He paused again, the hesitation creeping back into his voice.

“What’s it about?”

He swears the whole office can hear his sigh of relief.

“Um, it’s a war-movie,” he said after a few, silent moments, pointing lamely towards your book.

“Set during the Second World War, it talks a lot about the French Resistance, and how it’s not only the people who were fighting in the trenches who made it possible for the Allies to win…”

The start of his explanation is seemingly enough to grasp your full attention, echoed by the way you shut your book with no effort to remember your placement and leave it on your desk to look at him instead, eyebrow raised.

That little gesture, the almost unnoticeable quirk of your eyebrow, was all that Spencer needed to know that he didn’t need to summary the entire movie.

You were interested, but you didn’t want to know the entire plot ahead of the time.

He chuckled lightly at that, before biting his lower lip slightly. The next words that came out of him were almost just breaths.

“… Do you want to come with me?”

It’s enough for your eyebrow to raise more noticeably, enough that Spencer wouldn’t have to be standing less than five feet away to notice it.

“When?”

“Friday night—” It felt like the words were tumbling out of his mouth, like if he didn’t get them out fast enough he’d loose your attention and go back to square one.

But when he actually said the words out loud, he realised how much they sounded like he was asking you out on a date.

He was worried that you would reject him if you thought it was a date.

“…Unless you have other plans?”

There’s a small moment of silence, and Spencer feels like he might vomit from the anticipation.

“Friday’s fine,”

That’s it took for a small, satisfied smile to pull at Spencer’s lips. Those two words, combined with the small nod you throw in his direction, was all the reassurance that he needed to take you at your word.

“Great. That’s uh, that’s— that’s great,” he fumbled over his words, just barely reeling himself in from another ramble of him over-explaining his appreciation for your company.

“Friday’s fine for what?”

He doesn’t really have to worry about that.

Morgan walks over with a mug of coffee in his hand, eyebrow raised in amusement. “A hot date?”

“If you consider watching a french re-enactment of world war two as ‘hot’, then sure,” There isn’t a single ounce of sincerity in your tone, and Morgan glances between the two of you with a barely hidden smile, a chuckle bubbling in his throat.

Spencer, meanwhile, was just staring at Morgan with an indignant expression, silently begging him to not make this into a ‘thing’.

Unfortunately for Spencer though, Morgan was, well, Morgan.

He took one sip of the coffee in his hand, his eyes drifting between the two of you once more.

“French reinactment of the Second World War, huh?” he repeated, his smile turning into a cheeky smirk. “Why am I not surprised?”

There it was, that smirk.

It was the same one he always had on his face when it came to you two.

“It’s- it’s not like that” Spencer mumbled, his tongue quickly flickering out to lick at his suddenly dry lips.

“Sure, it’s not.” Morgan chuckled, enjoying every moment of this as he took another sip of his coffee. “The two of you are just gonna be sitting in a dark room… all alone… together…”

“Watching people get tortured…” You mimic the song-like drawl of Morgan’s voice to throw his ‘joking’ back onto him, rolling your eyes. “So romantic,”

A smirk remained fixed on Morgan’s face as he leaned over your desk until he was looking Spencer directly in the eye.

“I don’t know, you’re both nerds. This sounds like a perfect date to me”, he teased, causing Spencer to scoff in response.

“If that’s your idea of a ‘perfect date’ then I pray for whoever has the unfortunate circumstance of ending up with you,”

“Nah, don’t worry about me, Snowflake,” he chuckled, lifting the mug of coffee to his lips once more. “I’m not the one who’s gonna be sitting in a dark, lonely movie theatre with Doctor Genius here,”

“I don’t need to be ‘prayed for’, Reid is perfectly fine company,” You give Morgan another roll of your eyes, although whether at his comment or his ‘nickname’ Morgan is unsure.

“Sure, sure” he murmured, before pushing himself up off your desk with a smirk. “Enjoy the movie, lovebirds.”

He leaves the bullpen with a blown kiss in your directions, throwing the two of you a wink as he catches up to Garcia walking into the conference room.

You re-open your book once he’s out of sight, letting out a soft groan in lieu of Morgan’s tormenting.

You didn’t really hate it per se , but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get on your nerves.

Spencer wasn’t unalike in his reaction, a breath of relief leaving his lips once Morgan’s back was turned.

‘Lovebirds’.

Spencer tried to mentally scoff the thought away, and tried not to blush at the thought either.

He glanced back at you, praying that hopefully you didn’t notice that small, involuntary flush that seemed to be crawling across his cheeks.

He continued to be frozen on the spot, eyes locked on your relaxed expression as you scanned the pages to see if you recognised certain parts of the text.

“Page 212...” His voice came out quiet as he spoke.

“What?” You take a second to divert your attention from the pages, eyebrows furrowed curiously in his direction.

Spencer swallowed, hoping that he at least looked composed despite feeling like the exact opposite.

“You were on page 212,” he explained, a small smile pulling at his lips as he caught your gaze.

“Right,” You don’t question his recollection as you skip to page 212, throwing him a dismissive “Thanks,” once you confirm you’re in the right place.

“You’re welcome,”

Spencer’s voice was quieter once more, not as anxious as before but still quiet. He watched you as you returned your gaze back to the pages of the hardback copy, and he was torn between the urge to just stand there and keep looking at you reading the book, or heading back to his desk to work on one of the many case files that had stacked themselves there.

Deciding that it would probably be a little creepy for him to just stand there watching you read, even if you didn’t seem to particularly mind it, he forced himself to look away.

Just as he turned to head around to his desk, he found himself blurting out something without even realising.

“You look nice today,”

Your eyes flicker back upwards from your book through furrowed eyebrows. “Thanks,”

You hadn’t actually changed anything about your appearance, the outfit you were wearing was practically identical to the one you wore most days, your hair was done the same, you hadn’t even showered that morning.

He quickly realised that he must’ve looked like a complete idiot and, for a moment, was wondering if he could rewind time to not say what he had just said.

“Uh, I mean—” he tried to backpedal, hoping that his awkward rambling could save him from this situation. “Not that you don’t usually look nice! I meant-!”

As he fumbled over his words, he mentally slapped himself. Why couldn’t he just be normal and not blurt out something so stupid at such a random time.

God he hoped this wouldn’t make you change your mind about wanting to spend time with him one on one.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to have a little mercy on him.

“Team, I need you in the conference room.”

So much for a full lunch break.

[sweeterelease]

no me digas que no

jegulus microfic I tiny gift for @alexsays-no I wc: 867

James likes singing to him.

Everyone knows James Potter indulges in a little makeshift karaoke from time to time, most times, nearly every fucking day. Regulus can hear him in the shower, while cooking, working, cleaning, reading, he could really just be existing and still feel the need to hum or sing along to whatever song his mind has fixated on that week.

Regulus isn’t really sure he gets music the same way James does, he prefers his poetry written dry on paper, it grants him the power of bestowing his own sense to it rather than sticking solely with the one created by instrumental. Regardless, he can appreciate James’ soft voice humming into his ear, whispering lyrics like he’s confessing his crimes to Regulus, even when most fo the time he can’t understand a word serenaded to him.

“Oye mi amor, no me digas que no,” James’ low voice melts into the back of Regulus’ neck as his hands wrap around his torso, he’s slightly rocking them from side to side to the muffled soft rock melody coming from the living room.

Regulus has heard this song before, enough to actually recognize it. James’ music taste doesn’t shy away from that many genres, so he rarely finds himself obsessed with the same song twice, but this, Regulus knows, this is his song, —he suspects James has subconsciously assigned it to him— it’s the only one James always, always sings when it’s just the two them.

“…y vamos juntando las almas,” James follows, Regulus can feel the grin against his shoulder. His frame completely secured by the other’s larger one, it feels like home, always has.

Regulus turns off the water after he’s done rinsing his hands and walks over to the kitchen island where he left his cup of tea. James hangs from his back and waddles right behind him. After a quick sip, Regulus places the cup down and leans back to rest his head on James’ right shoulder. He feels light kisses flutter against his cheek.

“Hello,” Regulus offers.

“Hi love,” James replies, letting go of his sides just to reach for his hands on the counter.

“What’s this?”

James chuckles, “A hug?”

Regulus sinks into it, welcoming. The embrace feels content, almost overwhelmingly so, “You're happy.”

Another chuckle, “I am.”

They both know it’s genuine, he can feel his own body feed from James’ energy, “Anything in particular?”

“Just this, you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Potter,” Regulus laughs.

James is silent for a moment, pondering. And then Regulus feels a gentle nibble at his earlobe, “Right, I forget annoyance got us here .”

He laughs again. Regulus seems to just laugh whenever he’s with James, it was strange and confusing at first, now he rather likes it. Regulus frees one if his hands to lift it up by the other’s head, fingers curling around unruly hair. James continues rocking them back and forth to the music, serenading him again when the chorus comes.

“I know this song,” Regulus points out.

“Do you?,” James hums back.

“It’s the one you always sing,” —for me, he ends up not saying.

James makes a pleased affirmative noise, agreeing with him. And because Regulus is always right, he says, “Well, it’s kind of your song. In my mind, at least.”

I noticed. He thinks it’s adorable, but he’d like to know more about this recurrent tune, “What does it mean?”

A beat, “You know, for a native-level in french, you’re pretty shit at all the other romance languages.”

James must think he’s so funny, hilarious. Regulus huffs and turns his head just enough to glare at him.

“Excuse you? French is the superior one anyway.”

James lets out a proper cackle at that, head rolling back, “Not in a million years.”

“So, do you secretly hate me? Is that what the lyrics say?”

James hums again to the music, eyes creasing at the corners from the grin pulling at his cheeks, “Close guess.”

See, while Regulus does have an —justifiable, thank you— inclination for the french language, he thinks the rest of the romance languages aren’t that bad. At least spanish, which he recognizes in the song, can be quite similar to his mother tongue sometimes. Hence, Regulus gets a hint that the song isn’t about hatred at all.

“I secretly hate you, too,” he whispers, right by James’ ear.

“I know.”

Regulus’ gaze drops down to James’ smiling mouth, his lips look inviting, he wants to bite. “Not much of a secret now,” Regulus can feel his own lips stretch into a small smile too.

“Shame.”

James closes his eyes as the song reaches its climax, tightening his hold around Regulus while he sings along to the bridge.

Oye mi amor, no me digas que no, y vamos juntando los cuerpos…

Because Regulus is very much not pretty shit at other latin-derived languages, he catches the end of that last chorus. He also decides to obey.

Sue him, perhaps Regulus does like spanish, but he knows James rather enjoys french as well.

[edenfenixblogs]

This is just terminology but regarding asking goyim to ID ourselves as such, may I ask if there's a specific reason you prefer that phrasing? Asking because I've previously heard that hearing someone self-describe as goyische can be a bit jarring due to Connotations from white supremacists "reclaiming" the term (scarequotes bc that's obviously not how reclamation works) so I'm wondering if you have an alternate perspective I should be taking into account or if it's just like, personal preference/not that deep.

Ah! @faggotry-enjoyer, My friend! I did not see this message from you until today! My deepest apologies!

I didn’t mean that every goy had to specifically call themselves goy. I’m just descended from Hungarian, Russian, French, and Mongolian Yiddish speakers and that’s more familiar a term to me than “gentiles.”

Personally, I’ve always found “gentiles” a little awkward as a term anyway. As I’ve stated repeatedly, goy is a fully neutral word with no positive or negative connotations. But the word “gentile” seems to have a weirdly positive connotation that I find off-putting. It seems far too close to the word “gentility” for me.

It feels like “gentile” is a person of “the gentility,” thus inherently socially, behaviorally, and aesthetically superior to non-gentiles (aka Jews). Perhaps this is just because of my relationship to Hebrew (and its use of root constructions that convey connotations in the base structure of the word) that this seems to be a term that is inherently critical of Jews in a pretty blatant way. But it always seems just…idk. Uncomfortable for me to use I guess. It feels like I’m putting myself down to elevate someone else and acknowledging their inherent superiority over me.

That said, I am in no way suggesting that this is how all Jews relate to this word. I have studied Hebrew since I was very young (I’m not a fluent speaker anymore, but I was once), and I’m a writer and love words and etymologies. It is extremely likely that I am thinking more about this than someone else would or does.

So, I say goy because it is the most neutral to me. It doesn’t convey that I’m better than a goy or that a goy is better than me.

When I said “goyim identify yourself as such,” I meant more generally, “if you’re not Jewish, please indicate that in your reblog or tags when reblogging from a Jewish person.”

And to anyone who is new to my blog, the reason I asked goyim to do this is because Jews feel very alone and hated right now and a very easy way to help us feel better is to just let us know that someone outside of our community sees and hears us. It so very often feels like we are shouting from inside a soundproof room and we can only hear and be heard by each other.

There are so very few Jews left in the world. It is simply impossible for us to survive if we advocate for ourselves alone. We need goyische voices alongside our own if we hope to be heard at all amongst those who outnumber us.

One thing about Jewish culture though, we all disagree a lot about a lot of things. Someone probably does find it offensive to self-label as a goy. Someone else probably finds it offensive to reject the idea of self-labeling as a goy.

However, by and large, I think most Jews won’t be concerned that you’re appropriating our language and culture if you are using our language to identify yourself as someone who supports our culture. Yiddish isn’t a religious language, but a cultural one. While Judaism is a closed-practice religion, Yiddish is the language of our culture in exile. It is the language we used while existing in a goyische world that was and remains hostile toward Jews.

I think, personally, that if you’re not using our language to demean us, it’s not off limits. Like, call yourself a goy! You are one! It’s not a bad thing! But, like, don’t call Jews you disagree with schmucks or something like that. And, obviously, if someone is antisemitic then I do not want them using Yiddish at all.

If someone wants to condemn our culture, then I loathe the idea of them picking out the parts they can use for their own purposes. If you reject an entire culture, you do not get access to the parts of that culture you like, imho.

So, I guess (in answer to your question) it is personal preference but is also that deep. Jewish culture is old, deep, and complex. I'd never speak for other Jews, and I'm sure plenty disagree with me on this. But I have personally never heard of a Jewish person offended that a goy calls themselves a goy. Personally, I find it endearing.

[falsedivined]

━━  ⊰  [  gong  yoo  ,  38  ,  cisgender man  ,  he/him  ]  the  ton  is  buzzing  !  have  you  heard  ?  HAN  YEJONG  ,    FIRST  LORD  OF  THE  ADMIRALTY  has  arrived  in  mayfair  !  i  have  been  told  that  he  is  +  LOYAL  &  +  DILIGENT  but  are  also  -  UNDERHANDED  &  -  GRANDIOSE  but  we  shall  know  more  about  them  as  the  season  progresses.  they  aim  to  FIND  HIMSELF  A  BRIDE  before  the  season  ends.  we  cannot  be  too  sure  but  it  is  said  that  their  loyalties  lie  AGAINST  THE  CROWN.  how  true  ?  we  are  yet  to  find  out.

QUICK  FACTS

NAME:  han  yejong  NICKNAME:  yejong  AGE:  thirty-eight  PLACE OF BIRTH:  london,  england  ETHNICITY:  korean  GENDER:  cisgender  man  PRONOUNS:  he/him  ORIENTATION:  bisexual  RELIGION:  nominally  anglican,  atheist  PARENTS:  unknown  (  unknown  )  &  unknown  (  unknown  )  SIBLINGS  unknown  LANGUAGES:  korean,  english,  french  (  fluent  )  danish,  portuguese  (  conversational  )  greek,  mandarin  (  half-forgotten  )   EDUCATION:  royal  naval  academy  OCCUPATION:  first  lord  of  the  admiralty  HOBBIES  &  INTERESTS:  sailing,  natural  philosophy,  mathematics,  astronomy  RESIDENCES  3  park  crescent  (  london  )  merton  place  (  surrey  )

PARALLELS.

andrei  bolkonsky  (  war  &  peace  )   septimus  warren  smith  (  mrs.  dalloway  )    jon  snow  (  a  song  of  ice  and  fire  )    john  watson  (  arthur  conan  doyle  )   faramir  (  the  lord  of  the  rings  )

SNAPSHOT.

tl;dr  scholarship  kid  risks  his  life  for  his  country  and  doesn’t  end  up  dying  but  does  end  up  suffering  ego-death  which  is  perhaps  Worse

aka  andrei  bolkonsky  if  he  was  born  poor tw   for  post-traumatic  stress  disorder,  mental  health  issues,  warfare,  burning/fires,  death,  gore,  child  abandonment

your  death  says:    you  will  remember  the  cannonfire.

the  sky  is  clear,    the  winds  favourable.    your  sailing  master  tells  you  that  the  northeasterly  winds  mean  that  you  should  unfurl  and,    after  thinking  it  over,    you  forward  the  suggestion  to  the  riggers,    your  command  met  with  cheerful  voices  and  a  fair  degree  of  laughter.    they  do  not  see  you  as  their  superior,    not  really,    but  you  find  that  you  can’t  begrudge  them  their  lack  of  respect,    having  always  felt  more  at  home  in  the  cabins  than  the  wardroom.    they  fail  to  observe  the  proper  decorum  with  you  and  you,    fool  that  you  are,    allow  them  this.    you  allow  them  everything.    there  is  nothing  so  dearer  to  you  as  the  goodwill  of  your  fellow  men  and,    now  that  you  have  it,    you  have  sworn  not  to  let  go  of  it.    

in  the  horizon,    so  near  that  you  could  taste  smoke  on  your  tongue,    copenhagen  burns.

in  the  quiet  of  quiets,    so  soft  you  can  almost  pretend  it  doesn’t  exist,    your  death  will  whisper  in  your  ear:    remember  the  cannonfire.

words  so  loud  they  erase  everything  else,    guilt  so  nagging  it  drags  you  down  and  weathers  you  from  the  inside  out:    stories  replace  memories  replace  selfhood  replace  everything  you  think  you  know.    every  church  you  see,    you  think  of  burning  spires.    every  plaza  is  strewn  with  the  ruins  of  houses  and  the  gore  of  flesh.    every  blue  sky  is  marred  with  the  pockmarks  of  smoke.

every  unknown  child,    you  think,    could  have  been  you:    mere  foundling  wrapped  in  a  blanket  not  even  embroidered  with  your  own  name,    mere  slip  of  paper  telling  the  orphanage  what  it  was    —    didn’t  they  know  that  the  wind  could  have  carried  your  name  away?    —    before  growing  into  a  child  that  had  something  to  prove.    the  late  duke,    too,    had  something  to  prove:    charity  is  next  to  godliness,    and  perhaps  he  wanted  to  touch  the  edge  of  divinity.    you  were  a  test  case,    meant  to  say  something  about  opportunity  and  diligence  and  worthiness  in  outcomes.

make  no  mistake:    you  were  a  charity  case.

the  bombardment  lasts  twenty-two  days.    on  wednesdays,    you  would  toast  for  yourselves,    for  nobody  else  would  think  of  you.    your  death,    just  off-stage,    laughs  and  laughs  and  laughs:    for  it  is  certainly  thinking  of  you.    on  thursdays,    you  would  toast  to  wars  and  sickly  seasons.    here,    you  toast  with  death,    for  it  is  only  through  war  and  sickness  that  your  star  burns  ever  brighter,    promotions  rationed  by  the  cord  of  life.    on  fridays,    you  toast  to  willing  foes.    

some  nights,    you  just  stand  on-deck  to  take  in  the  vision:    copenhagen,    burning.

you  tell  yourself  that  you  will  remember  this:    the  sound  of  cannonfire,    the  ruckus  of  children  crying  for  their  parents,    the  smell  of  burning  wood,    the  bitter  tang  of  smoke  as  it  hits  your  eyes,    the  sound  of  cannonfire,    the  sound  of  your  own  voice  ordering  for  the  bombardment,    the  taste  of  soot,    the  salt  of  the  sea,    the  sound  of  cannonfire,    the  sound  of  death,    the  sound  of  screaming,    the  sound  of  cannonfire,    the  sound  of  cannonfire,    the  sound  of  cannonfire—

on  fridays,    you  toast  to  willing  foes.

your  death  says:    you  will  remember  the  cannonfire.  

the  sky  is  so  blue,    the  day  you  almost  die.    copenhagen  has  been  won,    and  denmark  brought  to  her  knees.    the  royal  navy  rules  the  seas.    you  die  with  the  taste  of  smoke  on  your  tongue.    there  are  no  enemies.    there  is  no  battle.    your  men  mishandled  the  cargo  of  shells,    leading  to  a  huge  conflagration.    there  is  no  cannonfire.    there  is  no  bombardment.    the  sky  is  the  sea  is  the  horizon  is  endless  blue  as  you  die.

they  come  to  you  as  you  lie  dying,  but  you  have  no  memory  save  for  the  blue.    

they  tell  you,    weeks  later,    that  you  talked  about  cannonfire.

your  death  says:    i  am  too  easy.

A  DEEPER  LOOK.

tw   for  post-traumatic  stress  disorder,  hanging

got  the  post  of  first  lord  of  the  admiralty  entirely  too  young:  mainly  through  a  matter  of  savvy  politicking,    underhanded  dealings,    and  hero-worship.    he  vaguely  enjoys  the  same  kind  of  celebrity  that  horatio  nelson  does,    without  exactly  following  the  same  career,    and  so  is  looked  at  to  be  one  of  the  more  eligible  bachelors  for  the  season.  

his  near-death  incident  on  board  the  hms  pompee  just  as  it  was  about  to  dock  plymouth  obsessed  the  press  for  days,    leading  to  court-martials  aplenty  for  his  subordinates,    eventually  finding  the  allegations  of  endangerment  and  negligence  meritorious  and  sentencing  them  to  hang    —    adding  yet  another  thing  to  his  guilt.

dabbles  in  substances  to  ameliorate  his    —    obviously  undiagnosed,    since  this  is  the  19th-century    —    ptsd:    his  habit  has  been  getting  worse  and  worse,    though  he’s  getting  better  and  better  at  hiding  it.

WANTED  CONNECTIONS.

fellow  military  men  whom  he  absolutely  connects  to  more  easily  in  just  a  fundamental  level  than  with  civilians.    is  fundamentally  anti-war  after  his  experiences,    so  he  detests  glory-hunters,    but  will  nevertheless  seek  understanding  first  and  foremost  from  this  group.

people  he  does  business  with:    his  naval  prowess  brought  with  it  some  certain  authority  in  all  things  related  to  the  sea,    and  he’s  definitely  pooled  his  investments  in  certain  mercantile  efforts.

former  romances/friendships/associations/etc  that  was  cut  short  by  the  call  of  war:    save  for  the  intermittent  short  visit  here  and  there,    this  is  really  only  the  third  season  he’s  attended.    any  prior  relationships  made  in  his  first  season    —    around  the  time  of  the  peace  of  amiens    —    would  be  welcome,    especially  if  such  a  romance  seemed  headed  towards  an  engagement.    perhaps  your  muse  was  willing  to  wait,    even,    but  yejong  couldn’t  live  with  the  idea  of  making  someone  a  widow.

on  that  same  note,    his  goal  right  now  is  to  secure  a  bride,    as  he  now  thinks  it  unlikely    —    with  his  recent  injury  and  his  position  in  the  admiralty    —    to  get  called  up  and  thus  considers  himself  free.    does  approach  things  rather  scientifically:    definitely  has  a  list  of  qualities  he  likes  to  see  in  a  match,    reminiscent  of  anthony  bridgerton.

he  exerts  effort  in  scientific  pursuits  and  funnels  his  money  accordingly:    he’s  been  campaigning  for  a  magnetic  survey  of  england  as  well  as  cutting  a  passage  through  the  open  polar  sea  so  as  to  bolster  profits.

[sainamoonshine]

These are all “french from FRANCE” things btw.

Fille is a totally non-sexual thing to say in Quebec. So is “je suis excité”. Literally it makes me very annoyed every time some fucking french from france dipshit comes around and sexualises everything and makes fun of us for using words for their actual meaning without taking into account their seventeen levels of urban dictionary cultural made-up meanings.

I have never heard of coup de fou or coup de foutre, I don’t think these are real

“Verge” is a word we in quebec are aware of the way the french use it but honestly to us its just a football word

This is not to say that Quebec french doesn’t have its own weird sexual innuendos (“gosses” anyone?) but I am telling you right here right now to not be afraid to learn the language, and everybody who makes fun of you for awkward unintended wording (or scolds children for using a word which has many valid definitions???) is just an immature, rude dickhead who just likes to make fun of other people out of a smug sense of superiority, and you should neither listen to them nor be friend with them. Like, holy high school behaviour, batman!

[bastart13]

I’ve had a lot of fun recently coming with with female mercenary characters for TF2. I really liked where the concept art was going with making them all individual characters rather than simply “if the characters were women”

The design style is fantastic for distinct simplicity so I tried limiting myself to basic colours and shapes to make these

and I’m pretty confident they pass the silhouette test!

Character names/bios under the cut!

Heavy

Name: Marie Jarrett

Age: Mid 30s-40s

Height: 6’5

Nationality: American (Hawai’i)

Bio: Raised in Hawai’i, growing up she developed more and more drastic measures to fend off the tourists swarming her home. Land mines, electric gates, guard dogs, none could stop them for long until she picked up her trusty minigun to send her message. But even still, she hears the click of cameras in the night.

Eventually, she left her home to explore the world. Enthralled with the image of seeing different wonders across different countries, she’s always disappointed. She’s travelled every continent and still finds nothing that lives up to her expectations. No place, no person. She’s outgoing and open to new experiences, only she usually hates them.

Mercenary life is a great opportunity to earn money, see sights, meet new people and kill them after they don’t meet your expectations. She hates New Mexico and takes every opportunity to destroy the buildings and insult her employer’s tastes. She finds some people she tolerates within the mercenaries as she hasn’t yet visited where they live. However much she hides it, she has a deep, instinctual fear of the Engineer.

  Soldier

Name: Linda Smith

Age: Early 40s

Height: 5’10

Nationality: Canadian

Bio: Canada’s perfect woman… or so she claims. The star of war propaganda posters and clearly decided for the role because of her great tactical assets. She’s there to motivate people into the fight. To spread the glory of Canada and inspire her allies. She believes she has higher orders than anyone else she’s working for (ignoring the fact she hasn’t heard from them for a good few years) and is determined to follow them to the letter. She may have lost the letter but she remembers it good enough.

She represents the ideals of Canada: polite, friendly, apologetic, and pacifistic. None of these are contradicted by how she throws around rockets. That’s not what Canada means. She’s superior to everyone around her and graciously educates them on how to improve through example. She loves her French and British allies and will kindly tell the Americans how to be better.

She’s motivating and actually fairly competent, it’s just that competency might be misdirected. She’s damn good at rocket jumping, shooting her shotgun, and supporting her team, it’s just that you really need to get it in her head when she’s meant to be doing it.

Scout

Name: Patricia “Pat” Herald

Age: 50s-60s

Height: 5’4

Nationality: English

Bio: In her years, Patricia has learnt fear… and she’s learnt to laugh in its face. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, ready to leave at the drop of a hat, boots polished and laced the night before. Her years have taught her that with a gun and Jeremy by her side, she can survive!

The postal route of Appleby-in-Westmorland.

She’s been chased by geese, dogs, cows, elderly ladies, and when her postal route had her delivering post during the war, she developed a taste for blood. Nothing will stop her from delivering her post on time. Every day before 6am, every postbox will have their letters and parcels. One chucked across barbed wire, another house jumped over a river, another house miles into the country with dogs on her heels, she WILL get there and she’ll get there FAST.

But after a couple of decades, she needs a change of scenery, and the Gravels wars are just the holiday she’s needed. With her trusty black and white cat by her side (ignoring the yowling and scratches) she reckons it’ll be great time to enjoy herself.

Quotes: “Oh, hello, Human Jeremy.”

“Bloody fucking Ethel! Building her house out in the country… surrounded by bloody hills and rivers!”

Pyro

Name: Nikephoros Papadopoulos

Age: Late 20s

Height: 5’11

Nationality: Greek

Bio: Survival of the fittest. Nature gives and nature taketh away. If you’re not prepared for that, well, Pyro is more than happy to teach you the lesson. They embody the old values of the Greek gods: f*ck or fire. She indulges her every whim and unfortunately for the people around her it often involves arson.

One year for the Olympic games, she was given the noble title of torchbearer. On complete coincidence, the Olympics shifted to primarily water sports. Underwater sprints became the hot new trend!

She’s merry and chatty, never missing the opportunity to talk to other people about herself and her world view. She can’t wait to spread her gospel to help other people improve themselves (though she always gets a laugh out of those who go out screaming in the flames). She can’t help it if she has a sadistic side.

Engineer

Name: Mikawo Kojima

Age: Early 20s

Height: 5’0

Nationality: Japanese

Bio: Japan’s early-rising industrial revolutions in technology are best exemplified in Mikawo, a young upstart determined to rise to the top, learning everything she can and building the best of the best. Unfortunately, she’s never been the most creative but when you happen upon other people’s blueprints and happen to construct them first, what does it matter who came up with the “concept”?

At first, she appears to be every bit the quiet and demure young woman people expect, only when silk hides steel, that steel is a massive automatic sentry gun. She’s motivated by a distinct contempt for the people who get in her way. Especially those who try to be better than her. She enjoys the flexibility of English, especially the cusses, and she has no reservations about swearing up a storm, even if she still refuses to give a straight rejection, preferring instead to give a small “I’ll think about it.”

Quotes: “This GUN is fair use on your head!”

Demo

Name: Qingzhao Zeng

Age: Late 40s

Height: 5’3

Nationality: Chinese

Bio: The Zeng family has a long-standing family trade in demolitions and explosives, traced down the line all the way to the Song dynasty. Luckily, Qingzhao has sisters so, you know, it’s not all that important. She doesn’t even have to stop smoking and drinking. She hasn’t blown herself up (that much) so clearly, it’s working. Precision is for other people to worry about. She’s apathetic to a T, having seen everything. Measurements come from the heart. A pinch of gunpowder there, a splash of paint there.

Her family has a deep-seated rivalry with the DeGroots. Long ago in ancient China, a Zeng matriarch woke up in a cold sweat, a message from the stars to let them know of their Scottish rivals. Due to being a continent away from each other, the families have actually met each other only a handful of times, but the hatred needs to be kept up because, what if?

Turns out, Qingzhao has met Tavish even before finding employment under the Mann brothers. One drunken night, the two of them had a short, whirlwind friendship, sharing secrets and declaring each other to be their best friends. Luckily for them, they both forgot the night, merrily hating each other as tradition dictates. However, headaches and flashes of this terrible night haunt them both. Could they really get over centuries of hate and become friends?

Absolutely not.

Sniper

Name: Ansa Aaltonen

Age: 27

Height: 6’2

Nationality: Finnish

Bio: Snow. Sugar. Cocaine.  Her life is run by many white powders. Ansa is a professional sniper, with a sharp eye and a steady hand… when she isn’t also high as a kite, lost in the snowy wilderness of Finland and screeching to the sky. When you’re up in the dark and cold, you need something to give you a little pep in your step. It just so happens Ansa liked having a bit more pep than most.

She’s there for a THRILL. There’s nothing better to get your heart pumping at 200 beats per second than a good headshot, embracing the chill, and a hit of sugar. She no longer feels the cold or heat or even pain, shrugging it off until she collapses. It just makes her feel alive. She’s efficient, fast, and determined to get her kicks.

She has an unusual taste, living off fermented fish and tree bark. To most people around the Finnish wilderness, she’s nothing more than an urban legend, but she’s very real and she’s looking for some excitement, happily found in employment in the Gravel wars.

Spy

Name: Yvonne Pleshette [Real name N/A]

Age: 30s

Height: 5’8

Nationality: American (California)

Bio: The silver screen calls to his woman and she’s happy to answer. She trains herself to act in every possible role she can, having a wide range of accents, body languages, and backstories. To truly test herself, she gave up her identity long ago. Lately she’s been going by the name “Yvonne.”

The world of Hollywood is cutthroat and full of backstabbers so she learnt to cut throats and stab backs. While some people tell her the terms are metaphorical, nothing else has given her more roles. Living the mercenary life is simply gathering research for her roles (and earning some much-needed money in the process).

She presents herself as a classic film star, despite being a minor name at best, mostly because she’s always changing it. She has high standards but a cheapskate personality. She’s a bit of a bitch, happily criticising others, especially if they’re working with her. What can she say? She’s a diva.

[Slutshames other spy]

Quotes: “Ugh, actors these days, they know nothing about getting into character. They still have names.”

“’AHHHHH—’ Wait, no. Once more from the top. Scream in agony.”

Medic

Name: Susan Monks

Age: 30-40s

Height: 5’7

Nationality: American (New Jersey)

Bio: The American Healthcare system. Is there a more glorious sight? The exploitation of pain. The money. The debt. The fear it strikes into the entire population it’s designed to help. To Susan, there’s nothing better. She squeezes every last drop from the people she helps, working on a purely transactional lifestyle. She’ll never help someone unless she has all of their insurance information and the payment secure in her bank, and god forbid she ever accept help. It’s not like she can afford her own prices.

She’s very self-aware of her own corruption and proud of it, though she refuses to be exploited in the same way, suspicious of anything “free” but also doing her best not to pay for anything.

That said, she doesn’t much care for how good a job she does. In her eyes, asking for surgery is one thing. Asking for successful surgery is another. She has a variety of skills in both cosmetic and military medicine. She just wishes the license board would stop sending her “malpractice” letters. Ugh, stick to your own business. “Disappearing” all their messengers is becoming a pain.

Quotes: “Why get someone else to do something for you when you can scrounge a way to do it yourself?”

[brightly-painted-canvas]

TOG fandom - How to address others in Italian (a little help for fellow writers)

Another one of these posts in quick succession because a thing I’ve noticed in many, many fanfiction is the incorrect use of titles and honorifics in Nicky’s Italian lines. Which... I get it, it’s super-uper difficult to get and also Google is the worst of all to translate the right use and nuance (my suggestion is to always prefer Reverso Context when translating entire phrases, it’s based on examples and it’s more accurate in general). So!

Let’s start with family (famiglia, with a gl, different to the Spanish word).

Papà = dad (please, please, PLEASE USE THE ACCENT. Just like Nicolo ≠ Nicolò, remember that Papa = Pope. And Nicky’s dad - or Nicky as a dad - is not a Pope). Variants! They are mostly regionals, but you can also use: papi, babbo, pa’. Father = padre, so if Nicky has to refer to an austere father figure or someone else’s father? Use padre and the honorific form (we will get to that). Mamma = mom. Variants! Mami, mammà, ma’. Mother = madre. Figlio/a = son/daughter. Sorella = sister. Older sister = sorella maggiore or sorellona (like ‘big sis’), younger sister = sorella minore or sorellina (’lil sis’). Fratello = brother. Older brother = fratello maggiore or fratellone (’big bro’), younger brother = fratello minore or fratellino (’lil bro’). Nonno/a = grandad/grandma. Also: nonnino/nonnina, it’s cute. Zio/a = uncle/aunt. Cute: zietto/zietta. Cugino/a = cousin. Younger cousins could also be called: cuginetto/cuginetta. Nipote = nephew/niece and grandson/granddaughter. Younger ones: nipotino/nipotina. Suocero/a = father-in-law/mother-in-law. Cognato/a = brother-in-law/sister-in-law. Genero = son-in-law. Nuora = daughter-in-law. ... and I’m stopping here, but if you have questions on other particular words just DM me :D

How to address loved ones.

Amico/a = friend. Someone who’s always very friendly and nice to hang up with = amicone/a. The BFF from when you were young kids = amichetto/a. Ragazzo/a = boyfriend/girlfriend. ‘Chi è? Il tuo ragazzo?’ = ‘Who’s that? Your boyfriend?’. Variants (also regionals): ragazzino/a, moroso/a, tipo/a. Fidanzato/a = fiancée. Could also be used as boy/girlfriend, but it’s mostly for couples about to get married. However, nonne all over Italy at Christmas would always ask their nephews/nieces ‘ce l’hai il/la fidanzatino/a?’ which basically is ‘have you found yourself a boy/girlfriend?’. Marito/moglie = husband/wife.

How to address royalty/nobility (to the person who asked about this specifically some time ago: took me some time, but here it is).

Sua/Vostra altezza reale/imperiale = His/Her/Your royal/imperial highness Sua/Vostra maestà reale = His/Her/Your royal majesty Re/Regina = King/Queen Imperatore/Imperatrice = Emperor/Empress Principe/Principessa = Prince/Princess Duca/Duchessa = Duke/Duchess Conte/Contessa = Count/Countess Signore/Signora = Lord/Lady (’mio Signore’ = my Lord)

The clergy (a relevant topic for Nicolò).

Prete = priest. Also: don (mostly used before the name to address the priest, like ‘Don Nicolò’)(yeah I know it reminds you of mafia names, that’s where they get it from... it’s basically a substitute of ‘signore’, frequently used in the South). You can also call the priest padre (father) ‘Padre Nicolò’. Padre superiore = father superior, frate = friar, monaco = monk, eremita = hermit, abate = abbott. To address a friar: fra and the name, like ‘Fra Giacomo’. Suora = nun. To address the nun: suor and the name, like ‘Suor Cristina’. Also: sorella, madre superiora = mother superior (’Madre Teresa’), badessa = abbess. Vescovo = bishop. ‘Sua Eccellenza’ = His Excellency. Arcivescovo = archbishop. ‘Sua Grazia’ = His Grace. Cardinale = cardinal. ‘Sua Eminenza’ = His Eminence. Papa = Pope. POPE. P-O-P-E as in the old holy guy dressed in white living in Vaticano. First rule of Italian, folks: we don’t have as many accents as the French, but when we do THEY MUST BE USED. Also: Santo Padre = Holy Father. ‘Sua Santità’ = His Holiness. I had to translate half ‘Wikihow - come rivolgersi al clero cattolico’ LOL

There should probably be a whole chapter about politics too, but you get the drift: use Reverso, check the examples and write me (or any other Italian user in the TOG fandom) a DM if you’re in doubt.

And we arrive straight to the honorific form. This is hard, I know... English doesn’t really have this form, but it’s extremely important to know it and know the differences to write/talk good Italian.

The basic rule is that when we speak to someone who’s above us in hierarchy (a client, a professor, an older colleague, ecc.) or a stranger, we use ‘lei’. Dare del lei means not referring to the person with the singular form of ‘you’ = tu, but use the female third person singular. Let’s proceed with an example: if you’re writing Nicky as a professor, he’s gonna be called ‘prof Di Genova’ by his Italian students. They wouldn’t say ‘prof, non interrogarmi’ to him, but they would use the ‘lei’ form: ‘prof, non mi interroghi’ (don’t test/question me, professor). This form is basically the most frequently translated by Google. This is why the most frequent mistake in fanfiction is Nicky asking ‘scusi?’ (sorry, in the ’lei’ form) to Joe or Andy or Booker instead of ‘scusa?’. As much as I think Nicky is a very polite guy and he definitely would use the ‘lei’ form with strangers, he knows his family (and his husband!) well enough to use the ‘you’. As a rule, always check if the translated Italian you are using is in the honorific form and, if it shouldn’t be in your fic (as in: Nicky is talking to someone he knows, like Nile or Joe or his family), change it to the ‘you’ form. NB! Nice nuance in fanfiction: Nicky using the ‘lei’ form with Copley or even Merrick (sometimes using the honorific form with asshole strangers adds a very sassy flavour) and Nicky using the ‘lei’ form with Joe if you’re writing a first meeting AU (in a polite/formal environment). It’s cute because there’s frequently a moment during a first meeting conversation where people ask each other: ‘possiamo darci del tu?�� (can we use the ‘you’ form?) and I think it’d work well with them.

You think this is it? THINK AGAIN! We also have an even more reverential form, to use with very veeery important people (nobility, extremely high-up people and the such) which is dare del voi. Voi = you (second person plural). The ‘vostra’ you saw above in the royalty part comes from this. Example: if Nicky is a prince or a king, a counselor should address him with the ‘voi’ form. ‘Vostra maestà, vogliate scusarmi: ho dimenticato di aggiornarvi su questo argomento’ (Your Majesty, please excuse me: I’ve forgotten to give you updates on this topic).

A bit complicated, I know, but I hope I’ve helped. Remember you can DM me anytime if you have questions. If you think I’ve forgotten something, please add a comment so that I can reply! :D

Here are the links to my previous ‘Italian language for fellow writers’ posts:

Terms of endearment

Swear words

Writing ‘good’

[randomnameless]

I saw a thread that argued that you can't have translation without localization and that the latter is always going to be tied to/dependent of the culture of its target audience. What are your thoughts on that especially in relation to FE? I think with this context, 3H/3Hopes(or Nopes) was always going to be different/lolcalized to cater to the Western audience (specifically America and its zeitgiest).

Partly horseshit.

Of course a translation has bias from the person/state doing the translation, and this bias should be taken into account whenever you want to use the translation.

But think about an academic paper, it is not translated, thus localised for scientist Y from country W, it has to be accessible and understandable by every scientist who understands the language you're using.

The target audience is "scientists" but it doesn't mean the paper is modified to cater to a certain audience.

In a way, yeah, finding "equivalent" words is a form of localisation, since you won't find the perfect match, but if a perfect match exists (idk, like contract and the French contrat) I don't think it'd be localisation?

Some other notions/concepts are impossible to translate with a word from the language of the "targeted audience". A "baguette tradition" is a specific type of baguette, and can't be translated as bagel, or the mundane "bread".

So then what? If someone writes "baguette tradition", that person isn't translating, but if they define it later in a bubble or in a footnote, it is still part of a localisation process : to bring something unknown to a targeted audience.

In a way, yes, a translator and ultimately a localiser will always have their own biases, so each translation/localisation has to take it into account.

That being said...

I can understand the “difference” because of the translator/localiser’s bias, but not the “pandering to a specific audience”.

Like, I partly grew up in the 4Kids era, and here in France, we had old anime being, uh, brought to a french audience since, iirc, the 80s. French children (people?) at that time wouldn’t be able to watch a show meant for children if the character had unfrench sounding name like, uh, Ryo Saeba. So it was turned in Nicky Larson.

Joey Wheeler being the “lolcalised” form of Jonouchi Katsuya, because, I suppose, back then, some people really really think US/Western children wouldn’t watch a “cartoon” with un-occidental sounding names.

Usopp (wordplay on Uso meaning lie) became the french Pipo (pipeau means a shitty lie), okay it works as a kind of translation but, uh... no? Just no? Don’t translate names ffs?

I remember the Shaman King anime from 4Kids keeping the “un-occidental” names, and the ceiling was broken, iirc, with the anime versions of Naruto and Bleach. Of course we still had early dubs with “Fire Style” instead of “Katon”, but by the mid 2000s, the barn was open and lo, children (at least here in France, that’s what I can talk about) could listen and read japanese words without a “perfect” translation.

Where am I going?

Well, we went from a ban on anything sounding too “foreign” for a certain audience to accept those names/words for this same audience, because, well, I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it must have come with a general need and desire to bring the audience something new -

The works weren’t catered to an audience, instead, the audience was brought in that work, in that work’s world and “foreign” culture (i am ashamed but i had my first ramen after watching/reading too much Naruto)

Bleach’s Zanpakuto became common, while the translated “Soul Cutter” (iirc that’s the one?) was never used. Rukia’s deference to her older brother and superiors wasn’t toned down because here in France we never had (afair?) so much formality between siblings, and yet, the localised Bleach materials, let it be anime or manga, kept it.

More mundane, but the senpai/kouhai thingie? 

Doesn’t exist here, and yet some works depicted it in it’s complicated mess, without needing to tuned it down to “cater to an audience” who’s not familiar with the concept.

----

Now, back to Fodlan...

Suggesting, in 2019, that a certain audience cannot “deal” with a story where a religious organisation is not evil incarnate and someone who starts a conflict based on the “the ends justify the means” might not be completely full of crap is, imho, downright insulting.

We had a lot of people, when FE16 was released, who argued about IS’s POV and if the “unification boner” was a thinly veiled nod to a certain country’s rising (?) nationalism...

But what about the lolcalisation? Is it only playing with preexisting biases or, idk, their whitewashing of an imperialist who fights against “irrationality” and a  religion to push her own values on countries she invades is supposed to be a nod at... something ?

For sure, this is a bad faith reading -

And yet, is it really complicated to have a story where a religious organisation that calls itself a church but is actually led by were-dragons who escaped a genocide and just try to help people around - is not the reason why the World is bad?

Take a certain movie that will not be aired in certain parts of the world because two women are holding hands - cultural norms, no matter what you think of them, commended the, idk, publishers not to release say movie in those countries.

What kind of similar thing exists in the “West” regarding... a religious organisation led by a dragon, and an emperor in red who wants to force their “ideals” by invading other countries? Imperialism good so let’s make it better? Religion BaD so lets highlight how it sucks?

And does it justify altering a game and the meaning of its quotes?

---

Tl; Dr : Translation and localisation always comes with a bias from the translator/localiser, because they are human beings who were raised in a certain culture and even if they try to be as neutral as possible, they cannot offer a work that is 100% true and matches the original.

That being said, we’re in 2022 now - and while FE14′s dub was an artifact (”Suzukaze? No, our audience is too stupid, let’s shorten it to Kaze instead! Tsubaki? No, Subaki sounds better!”) - I still believe a work shouldn’t be translated/localised to “cater” to an audience, people managed to understand Zanpakuto and Katon, I am pretty sure an audience can also understand that a fictional church led by a dragon is not the Catholic Church, or that religion isn’t an inherently “BaD” concept.

It’s merely my opinion as a consumer and part of the audience of the localised works - but I think I am open-minded enough and ready to engage with a fictional world and its fictional organisations, without needing to fall back on some preexisting biases or concepts I am familiar with. Of course that’s not to say things can look similar to real life issues (i said similar, forget your degrees) and we can’t reflect on that, but it’s always supposed to be a reflection, and not what the audience is engaging with or seeing first.

When you go to a Korean Restaurant, you don’t order mac’n’cheese or a jambon-beurre. Even if that’s what you usually eat. If you end up ordering something that looks and tastes like mac’n’cheese? Then good for you, but it’s not mac’n’cheese. You can’t expect a Koren Restaurant to serve you a jambon-beurre.

If you go there and they only serve you mac’n’cheese or jambon-beurre, what is even the point of going in this restaurant? Why are other customers served somethign else but I still have to eat the same thing I’m used to at home?

alas who am i to talk about those things, i have no degree

[zen-garden-gnome]

Long post about whiteness

I’m seeing a lot of false-start questions based on a narrow understanding of whiteness. Whiteness (and recovery from whiteness) can be tricky to unpack because it has a lot of layers that have been added over the years. So you’ll run into a layer and may be tempted to stop there, but it goes deeper.

1) Racial identity was a vague belief before it was officially named, but it’s not as old as many think it is. Prior to European Expansionism, travelers and merchants and militaries alike have generally referred to people based on their place of origin or their language. The idea of vaguely lumping hundreds of ethnicities together based on a handful of physical attributes started to kick up when Portugal began capturing and enslaving huge numbers of sub-Saharan Africans in the mid-1400s. As slave traders and “explorers” brought shiploads of captured, multi-ethnic Africans to Portuguese auction blocks to be traded all over Europe, what set these enslaved people apart from anyone else there (including other enslaved people) was a) the fact that they were to some degree darker than the Portuguese despite displaying a wide range of skin tones, b) were from Africa at the time, and c) were enslaved. When Christian militant and royal biographer Gomes de Zurara was hired in 1453 to write about the life and “accomplishments” of Portugal’s most famous slave trader, Infante Henrique aka Prince Henry the Navigator, he officiated, in writing, the idea that all these newly enslaved people were their own class of people with no differentiation between them. Here, race is a burgeoning social narrative invented to praise European slave traders, and this racial concept is defined in relation to slavery, African origins, and skin tone. Racial concepts appeared in tandem with racist concepts, because races began to be envisioned in order to excuse the abuse of others. The ideas of whiteness and blackness were birthed simultaneously, specifically around slavery, and they became deeply entrenched beliefs before they were ever officially named.

2. “Negro” became the first major racial term before “white” was widely used, binding the development of racial concepts even more securely with the practice of European slavery. In fact, race and racism became encoded in colonial-American law in 1640, when African servant John Punch ran away from his European buyers along with two European servants. He was eventually recaptured, as were his Dutch and Scottish companions. However, the colonial judicial system sentenced Punch to a lifetime of slavery, while the two Europeans had an extra year added to their initial servitude. This marks the first record of a Euro/American legal precedence for lifetime sentencing of enslavement based openly on race. John Punch’s African lineage and the other servants’ European lineage were the differences between their sentencing. Here, European origin was what freed a person from being of the “negro race” and therefore severely reduced one’s likelihood to enslavement. It was also the requirement for incoming settlers who wanted to be able to buy land. Only white people were allowed to develop inter-generational wealth, at a time when this continent was being carved up by land speculators for massive profits.

3. The concept of whiteness was officially named by Carl Linnaeus in order to rank Europeans as superior among other conceptual categories of people. It involved grouping hundreds of ethnic groups together to form white, yellow, red, and black races in he text “System Naturale" (1735). While primarily an introduction to our current taxonomy system, it included these racial categories. It was highly regarded by Europeans eager to cast themselves as superior because it a) created a popular “scientific” framework for excusing the most obscene (and profitable) crimes against humanity, b) officially outlined/invented the white race and identified it with everything good and the black race as everything bad, and then c) clearly defined Europeans as the basis of whiteness, “Homo sapiens europaeus.” Here, whiteness is coined to describe European ancestry, particularly in relation to “grotesque” non-whites.

4. An individual’s personal ideas of whiteness fluctuates with time and circumstances. As governments, social institutions, literature, etc all work to redefine history and clean up their image, people have different/less information to work with, but the effects are the same. The popular spoken definition of whiteness is often simply a reference to a relatively pale skin tone caused by European ancestry. Obviously there are pale people in other places around the world who aren’t European and weren’t related to the slavery of European Expansionism, so pale skin isn’t enough. The relation to Europe’s capitalistic global expansion is key. But what about European countries who didn’t go expanding this way, or whose involvement is harder to pinpoint? After all, most of the trading of enslaved indigenous peoples from Africa and North & South America were carried out by the Portuguese, Genoese, Dutch, French, British, Spanish, and Americans. Well, the rapid enrichment and development of the rest of Europe for centuries to come was specifically made possible by all the labor, resources, and capital brought in by this period of the European slave trade. European ancestry links every white person to privileges and developments born on the backs of black and indigenous enslaved peoples. Furthermore, simply being white makes one safer from these kinds of exploits, and today it also makes one safer from the effects of generations of racial prejudices and resource extraction on the global scene. Which brings me to...

5. Whiteness tends to involve one’s relative freedom. Freedom of movement, both physical and social, without immediate threat of policing. Freedom to explore one’s ancestral history without being blocked by 500 years of forced removal, renaming, forced childbirth, etc. Freedom to exist without having to actually know or respond to one’s racial identity. This one’s really important. Whiteness involves not having to think about being white, usually in relation to living in a country/region whose laws and norms are defined and enforced almost exclusively by other white people. Since whiteness and blackness arose mutually around the European slave trade, blackness is inherently tied to a lack of rights/freedoms and whiteness is inherently tied to an abundance of them. That doesn’t mean that every white person experiences these equally, and there will always be exceptions to the rule. But the exceptions don’t make the rule, and after centuries of globalized white supremacy, whiteness has become a subconscious signifier of power for people all over the place.

The big take-away is this: whiteness is inherently toxic. There is nothing positive to defend in whiteness. It was born out of ugliness and it is ugly to its core. That’s why it feels so bad. It’s why “white pride” is always ugly. However, the solution is not to disconnect from our ancestry. All that does is leave us trapped here, in an ugly set of circumstances, with no concept of who we are except what we’re living in, now. The real work to be done is to connect with our ancestry before whiteness, with the ancestors who related to the land as a living entity, before the land was limited in social memory to a source of private capital, servitude, and empire-building. This land, this Earth, is the backdrop against which all our relativity is measured. From this place of relative security, understanding, and development of the spirit, we can withstand the reality of our more recent ancestors, and finally heal from the last 1000 to 2000 years of trauma.

I know I’ve said this before, but now that I have this huge post, I’ll repeat it: Dr. Daniel Foor’s Ancestral Medicine is a really helpful book and/or course for this whole process. It’s not the end-all be-all resource, but it’s a great start! I’m also always down to talk about this stuff. Hit me up. I need to be able to talk about it, too.

(I should add, while blackness was created by white people and therefore was born out of the racism of whiteness, blackness was forced on people, while whiteness was claimed by the takers. It’s no white person’s place to have an opinion about "black identity.” White people started race, so white people are responsible for deconstructing our own race--no one else’s. We cannot be “post-racial” while everyone else is still living the violent reality of racism.)

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Please remind me when the Fire Nation built colonies in the Water Tribe territory

Disclaimer: This is a note of discourse I bring from a friend, who is far more knowledgeable about this than I could ever hope to be. You may choose to agree or disagree, and that is perfectly fine. A discussion is a dance that is happy to share its understanding so long as it is respected, in turn. 

Physically, that didn't happen anon. However, I think you're misconstruing the idea of colonization as solely meaning the physical uprooting of government and people and that being the *only* definition. There are in fact, many definitions of colonization and many negative side effects of colonization.

To quote @irresistible-revolution: colonization is "...a lot more intricate and expansive than “holding power over a land”. it’s not just about physical occupation, but enclosure, captivity, genocide." (https://www.irresistible-revolution.com/post/633250174173691904/genuinely-curious-what-do-you-think-colonization)

Colonization is not a simple definition. There is the physical aspect of it, the taking of land and settling on it. This is the textbook, non in-depth definition. Colonization also is a mental game. It entails removing the "other" and the "other's beliefs". It is a multi-faceted approach.

What the FN did to the SWT is a result of colonization. It is the colonization of a people based on the belief of superiority. They killed because they either 1. wanted to make sure there was no Water Tribe Avatar (which may I remind you is a result of the desire for imperialism and therefore colonization) or 2. Because they believed the waterbenders were inferior to firebenders and the FN.

What you are referencing, I believe, anon, is the commonly thought of type of colonization called "settler colonialism". Whereas, the type of colonization done to the SWT is closer to "extractive colonialism".

Definition pulled from historians.org: "Extractive Colonialism- All the colonizers want is a raw material found in a particular locale: beaver fur, buffalo hides, gold, guano, sandalwood. The desire for natural history specimens and ethnographic artifacts could also be considered extractive colonialism. A slash-and-burn operation, extractive colonialism does not necessarily entail permanent occupation, but it often seems to follow. Extractive colonizers might destroy or push away indigenous inhabitants to access resources but more typically depend upon native diplomatic mediation, environmental knowledge, and labor. Consequently, marriage “in the custom of the country” is more common with extractive colonialism than with settler and planter colonialism."

It could also be a combination of "imperial power colonialism": "Imperial Power Colonialism- Sometimes the purpose of colonialism appears to be simply expansion for its own sake, to aggrandize domains. Imperial rivalry between France and Britain in 18th-century North America and the 19th-century Pacific involved settler, planter, and extractive colonialism but also inspired competition to amass territory ahead of the other empire. Europeans have no monopoly on imperial power colonialism. Tongan expansion into eastern Fiji in the mid-19th century seems to have been driven primarily by the ambitions of King George Tupou I and his cousin Ma‘afu to enlarge the Tongan sphere of influence."

(source: https://www.historians.org/publications-and-directories/perspectives-on-history/october-2015/a-typology-of-colonialism)

What you are seeing, anon, is only one facet of what colonization is. Think to yourself what *you* think the FN would do if not presented with the opportunity to move imperialism across the planet. The FN would not find the need to effectively remove the SWT from the face of the earth if they weren't so hellbent on colonizing the world. What do you think the FN was doing to the Earth Kingdom at the end of ATLA? They were wiping them out because they thought they were inferior. That, essentially, is part of colonization.

Take a real life example of colonization without settling the land: a lot of Africa. I don't need to go into detail for you to know what I mean. Did the British or French necessarily settle and claim the whole continent? No. However, their interference caused countries that shouldn't have existed without interference, they caused ethnic cleansing and amplified rifts, removed parts of cultures, and a whole host of other problems that again I don't feel comfortable going into without letting someone with more experience and knowledge on that front to speak for it.

Basically anon, no I can't tell you of a point in the series in which the FN settled onto SWT land and made physical colonies because as far as I know in canon, that didn't happen. However, that doesn't mean that SWT wasn't directly affected and colonized mentally (and effectively almost wiped out).

Also, to be fair, in the post I think you're referring to, it was never said that the SWT was colonized (settler colonialism specifically) and settled upon. It said that "Katara of the Southern Water Tribe represents an indigenous nation. Her roots are inspired by indigenous people, who…guess what? Were colonized.”

I don't need to get into the fact that native Inuit peoples have had their land stolen from them and settled and pushed into the corners of what used to be their ancestral homes, and that though Alaskan, Canadian, and Greenlandic indigenous peoples have some similarities in cultures and languages, much of the language was lost and forgotten, and because of borders they remain separated from much of their people and lands.

[blueknightdg]

Drop In

----

MLB: Pegasus, Ladybug, Cat Noir, Queen Bee, Ryuko, Viperion

DC: Robin, Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman

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

Although it was a normal day with noticeable about it, the lives people live are not always so.

Like for instance, a group of super hero teens falling into a pile during a Justice League meeting.

There were only five members in the room and two were actually from the Young Justice League.

They got in position as the portal closed. The dizzy teens started sitting.

"Owe.... What happen?"

"Ugh, whoever is sitting on me, get off! So heavy..."

The young lady hero in pigtails cleared her head enough to see the room and saw the window. She panicked and rushed to the window, screaming.

"Guys, get up! We're in space!"

The rest widened their eyes and scrambled to the window as well.

"What!?"

"Impossible!"

One of the young Justice members got annoyed that they weren't notice and called the groups attention.

"Hey trespassers! I don't know how or why you're here, but it doesn't matter! Now put your hands where I can see them!"

blah blah blah They have a confrontation and the Miraculous crew goes to fight in Paris. The Justice leaguers try to find them again.

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

Eventually they do see them again when a portal opens up and the see sleep deprived, crying teen heroes at night with a giant baby.

Ladybug unable to speak properly ask a giant woman to feed the baby a warm bottle of milk they have. She throws them a bone and feeds the baby as Cat Noir Cataclysms the bracelet. Ladybug takes the now smaller baby to the worried mom. Ladybug thanks the giant woman.

Ryuko tried to get Ladybug to drink some coffee Viperion brought. Ladybug cried as she tried to move her head a way. Ryuko sighs and reminded her that they have to drink coffee.

“No! No want coffee, no want coffee!”

Cat Noir is crying and rocking back and forth.

“I want to sleep, I want to sleep, I want to sleep”, he murmurs out loud.

Queen Bee rubbing his should in comfort. Ryuko and Viperion have a dead look on their faces as they try to keep everyone awake.

The portal starts closing as they watch the teens break down. They get worried.

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

“Those are the trespassers I told you about, they look even worst than last time.”

“They speak in French, so logically, we monitor France and see if they pop up.”

Batman sends an invitation for them to come to a meeting in Mount Justice. When they show up, they still look terrible. They are nervous, scared, and seriously needs sleep.

Batman and a few others approach them gently with warm food and blankets.

“Oh, no! No! I’m fine.”

“My Lady, when was the last time you ate?”

“It was.....uh....I don’t remember...Oh! I know! It’s been two weeks! Oh, it’s been two weeks.”

Queen Bee looks at the soup in front of her and true to her self, refuses to eat it.

“Queen Bee, you haven’t eaten long than I have. I might not have the right to say anything, but that doesn’t mean I won’t use the last bit of my strength to feed you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

They glare at each other. Before a fight broke out, Viperion got between them.

“Girls, now is not the time-”

Viperion dodged a well aimed yo-yo to the gut. He glares at Ladybug.

“That wasn’t very nice, Leader.”

“Co-leader.”

“Leader.”

“Team mate.”

“You make the plans.”

“You are older.”

“You tell me what to do.”

“We work together.”

They glare. Ladybug looks at Queen Bee.

“If you don’t want to soup, ask for something else.”

“Fine.”

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

They talk about how the Villain has been keeping them up with night Akumas for the past two months. 

“How would you like us to help?”

“Well... I would love it if you helped us find Hawkmoth.”

“And take turns patrolling.”

“We can’t ask that! They have cities of their own!”

“I haven’t had proper beauty sleep in two month, I am not budging.”

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

The two teams eventually came to the conclusion Ladybug had a long time ago.

“No! No way, he can’t be it’s impossible!”

“But Cat-”

“No! I refuse to believe! He is not Hawkmoth!”

“Why do you keep denying this!?”

“BECAUSE HE’S MY DAD! He might not be there for me most of the time, but I don’t think he would to do that! He’s been Akumatized before! Doesn’t that count for something?”

“...Adrian?”

Cat Noir holds still and starts to panic. He curls in on himself and cries.

“....He’s all I have left, My Lady. I can’t lose him too. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You’re not alone Chat, you have us. Are we not enough?”, Queen Bee asks.

“No, you are. You are more than enough, I’m sorry. It just... When my mom disappeared, I only had my dad in that big old house. He didn’t show up or let me do things most of the time, but that’s because he wants to protect me. I don’t want to be stuck in a room again. I don’t want to be caged.”

“Chat...”

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

They find out that under the Agreste Mansion was an unidentified space with a series of tubing as well as a vital signature.

“Cat Noir... it comes to our attention that....your mother may still be alive.”

“W-What? You mean... she was there the whole time? She was near by? But... But I thought....”

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

During all this, Robin and Ladybug get a long with each other. It’s mostly silence as doing sperate things in the same room. Tolerating each other like that is really good considering Damian doesn’t like to talk to people. 

He would comment once in a while about the clothes she sews up for the American heroes.

“They can just make new ones.”

“I know....but I want to help while not being in the way. I love sewing so this is the only thing I could think of.”

He looks at her for a moment.

“Tt. It’s a pain to translate my third or so language, I will teach you English.”

He said it in an annoyed manner, but Ladybug felt that he was being nice for his personality. She wouldn’t normally interact with a stoic person like him, but it’s nice not having to talk sometimes. Though, they do end up having little problems that boil over or resolve. Mostly because Ladybug is forgiving enough and patient.

--------

Ladybug finds Robin attractive, but liking three guys is overwhelming. So she has to choose one guy to stop liking romantically. However, since you can’t just stop liking someone like that way, she has to reinforce who has been pushed to the back of her mind as only a friend that she cares about. 

“They are people, not objects. But feelings are hard to control. It might seem mean, but it’s best for me in the long run.”

“What are you murmuring about?”

“Oh! Hi, Robin. Uh... I uh....well...it’s not something you would be interested in.”

“Likely, but I am superior to in critical thinking, therefore, my input would be invaluable.” (Does this come off as arrogant yet a clear attempt to help?)

“Well....”, Knowing that he would get mad if she stuttered to much, she tried to think a little before speaking.

“I am...it’s about my feelings. Romantic feelings.”

“Tt. And?”

“I like three guys. But uh... they aren’t options and I can’t pick one like they are, because it would be demeaning or something like that...so...well...wavering feeling for three guys is a little...”

“Then obviously your ��feelings’ aren’t as strong as you thought they were.”

“...That might be true...”

“Of course! I’m always right.”

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

Something like that! There’s more but I forgot while writing and might remember later.

[scuttling]

Interview

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 1,729 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, First meetings Summary: Aaron finally gets the greenlight to hire a new agent. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) A/N: Sophie and Reid are partners, because I love them! Link to AO3 or read below!

It takes two months for Hotch to convince Section Chief Strauss to open a requisition for a new member in the BAU. There was a lot of paperwork to be filled out, including detailed explanations as to why he felt the team needed another profiler. He thought it was obvious: for all they do work together as a cohesive unit, Morgan and Elle were technically partners, and when she left, Prentiss took her place. Reid doesn’t have a partner, which makes him feel like a third wheel, sometimes.

(He won’t admit to it, but Hotch notices things. It’s kind of his job.)

Needless to say, the position becomes available, but it takes another couple of months—and several interviews—for Hotch to find the right person to fill it.

Agent Cortes comes highly recommended by the Intelligence Section’s unit chief, someone he worked on a case with in his early days at the BAU; she is young, just 29, but she is more than qualified, and the referring agent is someone whose opinion he respects, so he’s hopeful.

Gideon sits in on the interview because he respects his opinion, too, although Hotch will make the final decision.

Cortes is Latina, petite and polite, with a firm handshake, a warm smile, and dark, striking eyes. Gideon looks at her with somewhat passive interest (something only Gideon can pull off) as they go over the highlights of her resume.

“You have bachelor's degrees in Psychology and Sociology, and master’s degrees in Behavioral Science and Criminology, all from the University of Chicago. How did you manage all of that, at your age?” Hotch asks, wondering if maybe she is gifted like Reid.

“A lot of hard work,” she replies, and it’s an answer he likes. “I graduated high school, enrolled in a dual major program and completed the bachelors’ at 22. Then I was hired onto the Chicago Police Department, and I worked there and got my Criminology degree at the same time. The Behavioral Science degree came after; I began it in person, and they let me finish online when I moved here to join the FBI.”

“What interested you about behavioral science?”

“I grew up in a city that was rich with diversity, but I still noticed that certain people were susceptible to falling into certain patterns, and became curious about why we as people do the things we do. I was already interested in criminal justice, so it seemed a natural path to take.” He nods, jots down a couple of notes before looking back up.

“Tell us about your time with the Chicago Police Department.”

“I went through training while finishing my Criminology degree, worked a beat for about six months before being assigned to the Intelligence Unit; my sergeant found value in the way I was able to get people talking, and a large part of my work was with criminal informants. I worked in Intelligence for three and a half years, and for the last two I was on the Tactical Response Team as well.”

“Tactical Response—that’s SWAT?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you end up in SWAT?” Gideon asks, speaking up for the first time; she looks over at him for the first time, as well. “I mean no offense, you’re clearly more than capable, you’re just… small.” She gives him a brief smile.

“Well, there was a hostage situation, the team leader determined that we could get a vantage point from an air duct... and I was the only one who fit.”

“You don’t seem resentful of that,” Hotch notices, a bit surprised. It’s not an origin sorry everyone would be proud of. Her eyes turn back to him.

“I find it’s more important what you do with your time somewhere than how you got there. I contributed to many successful responses over the course of two years that had nothing to do with my size.” It is a great answer, and he holds back a smile of his own, simply nods.

“So you left Chicago to join the bureau; did you have your sights set on any department in particular?”

“I was torn between Language Analysis and Intelligence and ended up somewhere in the middle.”

“Intelligence because of your background, why Language Analysis?” Gideon asks.

“I speak 6: English, Spanish, and Italian as my native languages, plus Russian, French, and German. I have an ear for them.”

“Impressive,” Gideon says, nodding, lips pressed together. Cortes smiles, modest.

“It’s helpful; more than 30% of the population of Chicago speaks a language other than English at home.” Hotch does crack a smile at that, because the statistic reminds him of Reid.

“How would you describe your current role with Intelligence?”

“The official title is Intelligence Liaison. I’m part of a team that travels domestically and internationally, to law enforcement or government agencies, to debrief them on threats we’ve identified, or potential threat activity, and to help them formulate offensive countermeasures.” There is a lot of experience there that would translate well to the BAU, that much is clear. If anything, she may be overqualified, but they would never turn down the help.

“What’s the most frustrating part of your job?” It’s a question he always throws in, because true frustrations—and how one handles them—can say a lot about a person.

“When they don’t listen and people die. I do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen often.” He looks up from the form to the woman, who, in that moment, shows the things she’s seen all over her face. They’re gone from one blink to the next, and he breaks eye contact to choose his next question. No follow up needed there.

“It sounds like you have experience interacting with law enforcement, which is important here at the BAU. We can’t work on a case unless we are invited by the agency with jurisdiction, so maintaining healthy relationships is vital. We have a communications liaison who deals directly with police departments, sheriff’s stations, FBI field offices, and the media, but knowing how to handle them is a big part of the job.” It’s not a question as much as a confirmation, and she nods.

“I’m confident in my ability to interact with other law enforcement in a direct but respectful way. It’s something I’ve done a lot of as Intelligence Liaison.” He has one final question, and though he’s already more than pleased with the interview, the answer will make or break his decision.

“Why the BAU?”

“Curiosity is what got me interested in behavioral science, but it’s empathy that makes me interested in the BAU. My current work helps to save lives, but it’s all very large scale, and it can be detached, cold. I can be detached and impartial when I need to be, but I can’t deny it would feel like a better use of my skill set to make a more tangible difference.” He agrees, can already tell that she would thrive in the environment of their unit, and it’s just the kind of answer he’s looking for; he takes a few more notes, glances over at Gideon for input.

“Anything else you’d like to ask?”

“I think we’ve covered it,” he says, and he stands abruptly, which makes Agent Cortes stand as well. Hotch follows suit. “Nice to meet you. He’ll be in touch,” Gideon adds, shaking her hand briefly and leaving the room. She is left looking a little lost, and Hotch steps around the desk.

“I apologize for him, he’s a little…”

“Capricious?” she offers with a smile, and he laughs lightly.

“That’s accurate, actually. Please don’t take it personally.”

“I won’t. I’ve heard a lot about him, so he kind of lives up to my expectations.” She tilts her head, looking curious. “You don’t, though. Unit Chief Roberts told me you would be stoic; I expected someone much more aloof, but you’re actually rather warm.” He is a bit surprised by her directness, even more so that she would find him... warm.

“I doubt that my colleagues would agree with your assessment,” he says, thinking of the number of less than kind words used to describe him in the past. She just smiles again.

“I guess you really do need me on your team, then.”

He finds it hard not to agree.

“There are a few more things we’ll need from you, such as a psychological evaluation, recent performance reviews, a physical. I’ll be in touch with Agent Roberts, and then you, if we determine you are the right fit. I’ll see you out,” he adds, gesturing to the door, and she follows. The team, who was not yet in the bullpen when she arrived, looks on, curious, as they head to the glass double doors.

“Thank you for the opportunity to interview. I hope to hear from you soon,” she says with another firm handshake, and he nods.

“We’ll be in touch. It’s a pleasure to have made your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Agent Hotchner.” She gets onto the elevator, and he heads back to the bullpen, stops specifically at Reid’s desk, though everyone is nearby.

“Congratulations, Reid: you’ve officially got a partner.” Reid smiles, looking pleased.

“Who is she?”

“Special Agent Sophia Cortes. She currently works for Intelligence. Bachelors’ in Psychology and Sociology, Masters’ in Criminology and Behavioral Sciences. Fluent in six languages. Got her start at Chicago PD like you, Morgan—Intelligence there too. And SWAT.”

“SWAT?” Morgan echoes, impressed. “She’s gotta be 5’2” out of those heels.”

“She’s got glowing reviews from her superiors there, and from her unit chief: he called her resilient, determined, empathetic, a team player. She’s good at communicating with law enforcement, victims, even unsubs. The BAU is the right place for her. We’ll just be waiting on paperwork to make it official.” He crosses his arms, leans back against the filing cabinet. “I’d have introduced you, but she doesn’t know she’s being offered the job just yet.”

“She must have made quite an impression on you for you to decide on the spot,” Prentiss says, and he nods his head in agreement.

“I think she’ll fit in well. I saw a little bit of each of you in her, and she’s very…” He tries to think of one word to sum up the woman he just interviewed, and decides with a half-smile: “warm.”

[3wisellamas]

More Boxbot / Voxman Family Headcanons, Jumbo Bonus Edition!

Because I'm still here, dangit!

-Shannon's holographic "phone" is an actual thing that people in the OK KO universe have, but usually it comes built into a watch rather than their wrist. It's a super-expensive model, that she likes to show off to her siblings who are still stuck with regular smartphones.

-Since Ernesto is hollow, he likes to hide things from his siblings inside himself, and forgets about them. It's not an uncommon occurrence for him to split apart during a plaza fight only for confiscated magazines to spill out, or for the Bodegamen to explode him and have snacks fall out like a robot piñata.

-It's also the best hiding place for his diary. Which the Bodegamen always return to him at Boxmore, after reading it cover to cover (and even writing feedback in the margins) of course.

-ALL of the robots have issues sometimes with thinking out loud, and even blurting out embarrassing things or straight-up Boxmore corporate secrets -- the bigger the hivemind, the more likely this is to happen, with Darrell and Ernesto being the worst offenders. With hundreds of mouths to keep shut, sometimes they just miss one.

-Things the Boxbots are forbidden from eating/drinking, since they can melt, get stuck in their inner workings, or otherwise cause serious malfunctions: Marshmallows, chocolate, peanut butter, all varieties of cheese, WD-40, lit matches, dish soap, gummy worms, live worms (Raymond found this one out the hard way on a dare), live birds (ditto for Mikayla), glue, wet cement, broken glass, water.

-Things the Boxbots will eat/drink anyway, and just reboot themselves right after: All of the above.

-The main exception to this is the peanut butter -- Professor Venomous is allergic to peanuts, just like his son, and Boxman threw out everything in the factory containing them the day he moved in. The bots all miss their peanut butter and (petroleum) jelly sandwiches, but not enough to potentially hurt their stepdaddy!

-(They do still keep one last jar of the stuff hidden in their playroom, however, just in case. And so does Boxman, in his office.)

-Also, Mikayla doesn't care what it does to her, she LOVES chocolate -- it's her catnip.

-Mr Logic likes hip hop, and will actually get up on stage and freestyle sometimes when he and Gar go to open mic nights together. He's surprisingly good at it!

-Since he's just as embarrassed about his human feet as Shannon, if not more so, Darrell's got an extensive collection of cute patterned socks to cover them up, and wears a different pair underneath his boots every day that NO ONE is allowed to see but him. His favorite pair have tiny horses on them.

-The robots all wake up at 6AM, on the dot. They have to, in fact, since it's programmed into them -- they're physically incapable of sleeping in, though they can take short naps in the afternoon. They're also programmed to start feeling sleepy at 10PM, though their bedtime is a couple of hours earlier, and they are able to stay up if needed (for instance, if Boxman decides to do a late-night plaza attack...)

-And that line about having to "recharge every night" was accurate -- glorbs naturally replenish their spent energy when not in use, so the robots need to get a full nights' sleep every night or their glorbs could eventually burn out on them!

-Boxman also gets up at 6, or around there, because he MUST crow at the sunrise, every morning. Raymond sometimes joins him.

-Darrell gets migraines, a side effect of having to convert and process all of his electronic thoughts on an organic brain. There's an entire protocol to swap him out for Shannons and Raymonds on the factory floor so he can shut down his hivemind and rest -- however, it can be tough to get him to admit he's in pain and to stop trying to work through it. (He hates the idea of his family having to go through so much trouble for him...)

-When PV found out, as a fellow migraine sufferer, he and Darrell actually bonded over it, and he got a little less resistant to taking "sick days" with his stepdaddy's encouragement.

-After he was upgraded to a robo-adult, Ernesto started refusing to celebrate his birthday, so that the other three quadruplets could have it all to themselves. However, they'll always throw him a small surprise party of his own a week later.

-For their dad's birthday one year, the bots got him a pet goldfish, since he used to be so into aquatic creatures. Boxman ADORED that fish, even if he claimed otherwise, and gave it the prettiest tank decor and fanciest fishy flakes he could. However, sadly, it didn't last long, with the robots doing the cleaning and water changes for him -- fish and rust don't mix. ;-;

-Though it's INCREDIBLY humiliating for them, you can in fact plug all six of the bots into a wall outlet if there aren't any glorbs available for them to run off of. Except for Mikayla, their AC adaptors are sold separately.

-Fink keeps trying to flush cherry bombs down the Boxmore toilets, Bart Simpson-style. It helps that she can just escape down them into the pipes if she gets caught (though, she's also blown herself up this way once or twice...)

-Leggy Jethro did eventually trust all his siblings enough to let them know he was still around, and they helped hide him from Boxman, reattached his limbs, invited him to their dance parties (the one in The KO Trap was him), and even got him out of there when things started getting bad with Shadowy -- though, since all they did was shove him into a waste pipe during one of their stepdaddy's and stepbrother's rampages, they never were sure if he made it or not until he showed up with Boxman at the Plaza Tournament.

-Post-reset, he's allowed to openly be himself as a member of the family! No labor uprisings or union talk at the dinner table, though.

-This was originally posted by someone else, but I love it so I'm stealing it: "Deathro" from Thank You For Watching the Show is actually just Jethro's edgy robo-teen phase. It lasted only a week before everyone else got sick of it, just like Ernesto's.

-The Boxman family is Corn-tholic (Corn Catholic), though Boxman himself doesn't really practice it too seriously. In fact, he didn't practice at all until the kids came along, and he started going to Corn Church again for them.

-He dragged PV along with the rest of the family one week, but the whole "corn-fessing your sins" aspect didn't go too well for our favorite professor, who already has problems facing and dealing with his checkered past...

-The robots are EXTREMELY multilingual, since they can just switch their language settings. However, Shannon and Raymond did try to legitimately learn French together once, though they eventually gave up. The only thing they can really say is "omelette du fromage."

-Sadly, this does not include sign language for the four original bots, though Raymond and Mikayla were updated to include it, and they'll sign to each other to in order to speak privately or hide things from / trash-talk their older siblings.

-Lord Boxman has no idea where Darrell got the Daddy belt, and it haunts him, as does whether his innocent baby boy knows the full meaning behind it. Darrell actually pulled it out of Boxman's old college stuff -- there may or may not have been a LOT of alcohol consumed the night he procured that belt, and he'd long since forgotten it.

-And Darrell does know exactly what it means. The fact that everyone, especially his dad, expects Darrell to act an innocent baby boy forever due to his personality, and expresses shock whenever he displays knowledge or behavior more appropriate to the teenager/young adult he is, really annoys him sometimes. Not that he'll voice his complaints, especially not to his father, but he does rebel in small ways, like his graffiti habit, and brute-forcing his way past the parental block on the TV to watch the PG-13 movie channels. (He absolutely can say fuck, and in fact has done so in private, he just chooses not to.)

-After he and Boxman reconnected, Mr Logic did eventually start visiting his family at Boxmore again, though only on rare/special occasions. And after a LOT of time and consideration, he agreed to let Boxman perform a few upgrades, and bring his construction more in line with the newer robots.

-Logic refuses to have a hivemind set up, though, or any copies of himself made, not even just as a safety precaution in case he's ever damaged or destroyed.

-Boxman made a copy of Logic anyway, and a backup of his memory during one upgrade, and just never told him about it. It's set to activate if something ever does happen to the original Mr Logic, even long after Boxman retires.

-Shannon LOVES roller blading, but is banned from every skating rink in the Neutral Zone, since she keeps trying to use her saws instead of actual skates.

-There's a villain-oriented equivalent to Sidekick Scouts, for minions-in-training, that PV took Fink to a few times, before she decided her own style of minion-ing was superior.

-She first learned how to blackmail people from their annual cookie drives, and even got a badge for it!

-In addition to robots, Boxman is a HUGE car guy, and can give you engine specs on any make/model from memory, as well as ways to tweak them for maximum horsepower. He originally went to Evil Engineering College for automotive stuff, but switched to robotics instead.

-He's actually trying to pass on his mechanic skills to Darrell, who he trusts to do all his own car's upkeep as well as that of the Boxmore trucks, and Raymond, who...can barely change a tire. (He tries, he really does, but it's just not going well in his case)

-Raymond actually does have his motorcycle from that one mobile game, and enjoys riding around the Danger Zone! However, since he stinks at maintaining it, it's almost always breaking down, and he keeps having to go to either his dad or Darrell to fix it.

-He passes it down to Robbie later on, who thankfully DID get the Mechanic Skills. ;v;

-Ernesto once tried to teach PV how to make a spreadsheet in Excel. He somehow managed to crash the entire factory computer system, including poor Ernesto's hivemind server, while trying to add two cells together.

[snowy10604]

please... share with us your curie headcanons... I too desire content for the med wife 👀

ok ok ok yes- sorry for lack of structure lmao im just really excited to answer this hehe

curie is really strong! taking into account that she has the best stats of all followers, she’s gotta be! I love the image of her like,, decking someone and knocking them out cold or tossing a super heavy object like it’s nothing, cause in my mind she has a smaller frame but that doesn’t mean she’s not stacked- (I also love it cause my fo4 character is this like 6′3 scientist man who couldn’t be strong to save his life dashdfjkshdjkhdfs it’s a good dynamic)

my partner suggested that syncing her mind from Ms. Nanny to synth probably isn’t an exact science, so maybe the limits of what she physically CAN exert vs. what her body will LET her exert are a little more lax than the average person, meaning she can use higher levels of strength than others but it takes a lot out of her and can lead to injury (personally i like the image of her bodying some BOS pally in a suit of power armor and then immediately taking an 18 hr nap after combat)

kind of following off of the syncing synth and ms. nanny mind thing is one of my favorite things to play around with for her characterization..! just, imagine you’re a ms. nanny. you’ve got your programming, and your routine, and AI and all of that, and you transfer that into a human-- (as i see it, gen 3 synths are just people with robotic components in their brains)

but transferring that ms. nanny into a human body. imagine how completely shocking and overwhelming it is.. all of that tactile input, being intensely aware of background sounds- tastes and smells, alongside having to do the breathing thing and walking and all of that; that’s not even touching on the emotional aspect of it- in game, curie Clearly shows a change and comments on how difficult emotional regulation can be-

taking all of that and watching her learn to deal with and manage sensory stuff as well as emotional stuff is such a Good arc for her that allows her to mature a lot as a character. i think it’s just overall superior to the arc of her not knowing Anything about humans or the wasteland and writing her off as super naive. it’s definitely an aspect to her character, but I feel like it’s a little overplayed sometimes lol

i feel like curie, having been a ms. nanny working with a bunch of scientists, has a lot of knowledge on the prewar world and cultures, as well as languages!! in my heart i know she knows at least english, spanish, french, german, and ASL but that list can be as long as the heart desires

she can be a little clumsy at times, especially when it comes to walking! especially when it comes to climbing things and traversing really uneven terrain, she has a bit of a hard time sometimes! her spatial awareness isn’t great either, cause she’s used to having a much larger FOV... 3 eyes will do that for ya!

[gemsofgreece]

random but I find it a bit uncomfortable when we Greeks, especially someone like you who actually knows about history and is educated, calls Scopje "North Macedonia". Just bc they decided to call themselves like that and our dumb, unpatriotic politicians accepted it, I don't see why we should play along. Macedonia is Greek. Alexander the Great was Greek. Period.

If even we Greeks give in and start calling them like this, then we can't expect foreigners not to do so or not to eventually believe the false historical facts spread by that country. And eventually everyone, even Greeks, will believe that Macedonia or Alexander or whatever else were not Greek.

This thought worries me a lot. But since I live overseas myself, I do try educating foreigners about this.

sorry for the lil rant, but it's not the first time I see Greeks (even on tv!) do that and it is disappointing and saddening to me.

like Turks, Germans, French, British or ppl from any other country would never behave the way Greeks do on such a matter.

Really makes me wonder sometimes what it is that makes us Greeks so unpatriotic. it's somehow like being patriotic equals being a fascist for us, and obviously no one wants that so we just accept everyone else running over us, our history and our culture. (generally speaking, not only about that topic and it's definitely not towards you. just an observation of mine)

anyway again sorry for the rant.

I agree, many Greeks have that belief that any slight patriotic sentiment, even without hatred or any feeling of superiority, automatically makes you a fascist. It frustrates me too.

On the topic of our neighbour country, things are very complicated though. It’s not as easy as to say “There’s no other Macedonia - our politicians betrayed us - I try to educate as many people as I can”.

First of all, Skopje is not a correct term to use either. Skopje is their capital city and if I said “there are Pomak populations in Bulgaria, Northeastern Greece and Skopje”, then the average foreigner would misunderstand that sentence. We Greeks simply use that name for the country in lack of any better alternative and because it is not our job to find one for them.

Of course I dislike the name North Macedonia, however I think it is better in comparison to what was being used till the change. Just because we Greeks used the former official name FYROM, it doesn’t mean foreigners did too. It is very sad but it is the truth. In the absence of Greeks, everybody was calling the country Macedonia. The reason is a) the insane propaganda of the neighbours, b) the weirdness of an acronym used as a country’s name and c) the extremely long and complicated name when said in full. Trust me, everyone called them Macedonia and when a Greek showed up and screamed “it’s FYROM”, they were largely ignored or even ridiculed.

Let alone that FYROM is in truth an even more terrible name than North Macedonia. Remember what it means. Former Yugoslavic Republic of Macedonia. What the hell does that mean? That it was formerly (yugo)slavic but now it is not? And that it was or still is THE Republic of Macedonia, the one!!! You get how this was way worse than North Macedonia? North Macedonia suggests that there is another Macedonia too, a South Macedonia. So the average foreigner who doesn’t know much about Greek or Slavic history may be intrigued by that North specification and look up what the “south” Macedonia is and find out about our region and its inhabitants and history. Also the differentiation between North Macedonia and Macedonia (ours, often called Historical or Aegean Macedonia) may intrigue new people to study the issues of the tensions between the two countries and have an educated opinion on it. This was much less probable to happen when foreigners were expected to call the country FYROM and then they were weirded out, so they would be like “oh just call it Macedonia for short” and they would do that without second thought, without knowing someone else condemns this name as appropriation of history and direct land claim.

Of course, the name North Macedonia is mostly inaccurate as only a small part of the far south of the country is part of the actual Ancient Macedonia. The ideal would be a NO Macedonia name but right now it was not realistic. They would not accept it and they were getting deeply under the influence of Turkey. Albania and Bulgaria are deeply influenced by Turkey, Greece felt it was suicide if she destroyed entirely the relations with North Macedonia and was literally surrounded by Turk friends from all sides. I am sure both sides absolutely loathe every single term in this agreement but politics sometimes work differently than our principles. I don’t like it but I have come to a place that I kind of understand. I hate it but it is better than the absolute nothing we had before.

What I can’t come to terms with is giving in for the nationality and language. That really seems as little other than a big fat betrayal. However, if I try hard to be objective about the situation, I believe neighbours are in a worse place than us in the longterm. Huge tensions often arise inside North Macedonia with like 1/3 of “”””””MaCEdoNIAns”””””” being Albanian and Bulgaria claiming the rest 2/3 are actually Bulgarians. And what is factually the truth, that the “Macedonian” language is basically a Bulgarian dialect just must create a situation of chaos within the country. I wouldn’t find it surprising if the nation feels unsafe. And when a nation feels unsafe, the best way to control it, distract it from the identity confusion and give it a purpose is to feed them with a shitload of propaganda, the kind they would LIKE to hear.

When Slavic populations were pushed north and out of Macedonia by the Greeks during the Balkan Wars and then they became part of what was called South Serbia and then part of Yugoslavia and then Yugoslavia collapsed and their population is a blend of Serb Slavs, Bulgarians, Albanians and apparently there must be Greek Slav origins there too, it is no wonder the nation suffers from identity crisis and is susceptible to brainwashing and propaganda. I suppose they hate the guts of all of us surrounding them. So the claim that Macedonian is a separate ethnicity, unrelated to Greeks, and they are the sole descendants, a claim that was only made in 1935 for the first time, was a desperate way to establish an identity against Slavs and Greeks who surrounded them and with whom they felt entirely disconnected and hostile. I mean, at points in time, they were even denying any Slavic heritage. I think lately things aren’t as bad as they were. Of course, their government remains provocative towards Greece even after the agreement but this is no surprise after Greeks agreed on nationality and language. Currently they have tensions on ethnicity and culture mostly with Bulgarians and Albanians so our issue is somewhere in the back. Some of their youth now says they don’t actually believe they are descendants of Alexander the Great and that was an extreme measure to spite Greece. This was one of the terms of the Prespes agreement after all: that they would stop claiming Greek history and culture. Of course extreme and brainwashed nationalists are alive and well (everywhere) but things are better than they were some years ago IMO. I could be wrong though.

Anyway I get why things happened the way they happened. But of course butchering history is not the solution… but as you see they are not very close at solving anything. That was kinda my answer’s point, not sure it came across right. In the meantime, I have to use this geographic term to be understood and it is a little better than any widely understood alternative.

Context for foreigners: Alexander the Great died about 800 years before the first Slav stepped on Macedonia or any other Greek territory. Macedonians and all other Greeks technically stopped being considered as “ancient” half a millennium before the first Slavs showed up.