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stomp-that-ho-regard · 2 years ago

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mircallablue asked:

(Sorry to send you another ask, I kinda want to post this in the cr discourse tag but I'm too scared lol. And uuuuh, it might be a long one, sorry).

Just to throw in my two cents on the discussion about Dani and the character playlists - we know that Dani did help Travis with his Fjord playlist in campaign 2, since he's said so himself, and we know that she chose a very ship-centric song. Now, this might be surprising to hear from me of all people, but I don't actually have a problem with that, and I actually kind of appreciate that they were open about it.

In my opinion, the worst thing about how CR changed over time (and ultimately the reason I stopped watching) was how insincere it started to feel. To be clear, I'm not referring to all the ways that CR became more "corporate" over time - I'm referring specifically to the way that they pretend haven't become more corporate. It's insincere, and I just couldn't get passed that feeling - that feeling of dishonesty.

To a certain extent, I do believe that CRs decision to starting acting more like a conventional business was both inevitable and necessary. For instance, I absolutely think that the cast allowed themselves be to be far too accessible to the fans for far too long, in a way that wasn't healthy for anyone, and pulling back in the way that they have absolutely was the right move. They made a lot of missteps early on because of this (even hiring Dani in the first place was one such misstep, in my opinion).

When I'm watching, say, a movie or a TV show, I'm perfectly able to suspend my disbelief, because the work isn't trying to convince me that what I'm seeing is actually true. Even in a medium where the artist might pretend that what they're saying is true, such as stand-up comedy (This crazy thing totally happened to me on my way here tonight, you guys), there's still the inherent understanding that, no, this is a routine they've been curating and preforming for months. So you don't feel lied to.

This is where CR started to feel insincere, and it was the main reason I could enjoy BeauJester where Beau/Yasha just left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm sorry to anyone who might read this that loves Beau/Yasha, but - it was planned. From the moment Matt says "Hello Everyone" at the top of episode 100, every single person at that table knows that Beau and Yasha have to get together.

Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, I'm perfectly able to suspend my disbelief for other scripted/planned works. But CR genuinely was trying to convince it's audience that Beau/Yasha was happening naturally. And because I could see through it (because a lot of people could see through it) it felt insulting.

To bring this neatly back around to my original point - that's why I didn't mind them openly admitting that F/jorester shipper Dani chose the ship-centric song for Travis. It felt honest. Whereas, Beau and Yasha having songs that say "I want someone to hold me/Let me hold you" is so blatantly planned, the fact that CR is genuinely trying to convince me it was a coincidence is insulting.

The phrase I want to use is "manufactured consent". And yes, I understand the inherent ludicrousness of taking a term used in political theory to describe propaganda machines, and using it to analyse shipping discourse. But, that's why so many people looked at CRs new talk show and said "this feels over-produced" - that's not a bug, it's a feature. The after-show used to be a way of answering questions the fans had, but now it's more about controlling fandom narrative. The questions are more tightly curated, only one or two fan-questions get answered at all, Creative Director Marisha has a tighter grip on the reigns (honestly, at this point, I don't even think it was a coincidence that she was "randomly" chosen to host the first episode).

And again, the main issue I have here is the insincerity, not the actual action itself. Because I could see through all the blatant BS, I just genuinely couldn't enjoy the show anymore.

Sorry to bomb your inbox with an essay like this lol. Just to close off, I want to link the moment that the whole "manufactured consent" thing first entered my head. It was during the campaign 2 wrap-up episode. The cast obviously knew about the backlash to how they handled BeauJester/Beau-Yasha, and in the wrap-up episode, the cast are all asking each other questions that supposedly, they themselves want to know the answer to. Out of everyone, the person that asks the Beau/Yasha question is Laura, but critically, she gets the question wrong. Like, there's very clearly a specific question she has to ask, but she asks the wrong question, and Travis and Marisha both know it straight away, before she even finishes, and Sam actually corrects the question. And you can see when Laura realises she got the question wrong, she points as if to say "Thaaat's the question I meant to ask". Honestly, once you start to notice this stuff, you can't stop noticing it:

(Let's also not talk about the fact that in her answer Marisha calls Beau a pig for being attracted to Yasha).

[LINK]

“But CR genuinely was trying to convince it's audience that Beau/Yasha was happening naturally. And because I could see through it (because a lot of people could see through it) it felt insulting.” We were essentially, for lack of a better term, gaslit. It was fucking suffocating knowing I was being lied to but being told over and over that I wasn’t. The cast was doing it just by constantly throwing around the word ‘organic’ like it was going outta style, and the fandom was doing it by straight up calling us delusional and talking shit in our tag.

You know, before this, I never actually watched the wrap-up, I just skimmed the transcript. Seeing this clip, I agree with your analysis. But back when I had only read the transcript, my thought was that this moment was just another example of how the players were not fully paying attention at the table. Pre-hiatus, Laura was almost always doodling in her notebook. So there were many times when she was some level of distracted, but she would usually get back on track. Post-hiatus, everybody seemed not as into it, and not as focused as before. I called them scatterbrained. And they remained that way until the end. There were already so many things they had forgotten or twisted around. They no longer seemed too bothered about ‘getting things right’.

What’s funny is, all throughout those last 41 episodes, BY shippers kept saying, “Laura loves BY so much! She’s BY’s biggest shipper!” And yet she couldn't get that one question right? So she’s supposed to be BY’s most emphatic supporter, but she can’t even remember who said what in what’s supposed to be the most important moment between them? Sure.

Now that I think about it, this kind of adds to the idea of ‘manufactured consent’. 1) We have to push BY so a BY question HAS to be asked. 2) Have Laura do it, since she’s the “biggest shipper”. Laura was simply playing her ‘part’.

#op #ask

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theres-no-protocol-for-this · 4 years ago

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Necessary Repairs

Part III. I don’t even know if you have to read any of the other parts. SecUnit should probably have slept through most of its own healing, but that’s not this machine’s luck.

Part I | Part II

At some indeterminate point later, I woke up.

I was receiving minimal sensory data, and none of it was sight-related. A diagnostic subroutine spun up and casually began sending me bursts of error messages I couldn't even begin to translate.

Oh, and the world was pitch black.

It took me more than five seconds to determine that the darkness was self-inflicted and open my eyes. Longer still for the random noise to resolve into sounds I could understand -- the hum of an air circulation system, at least two distinct voices, and an automated warning system. My connection to the feed stabilized, but the walls that normally guarded my mind against its onslaught were conspicuously absent.

Something else was shielding me, something big and surprisingly gentle.

Friend?

I could feel cold metal under my back and head, probably the medical suite platform. My internal temperature refused to rise, so I was shivering and couldn't stop. It felt like I was still leaking, and the pain ebbed and flowed with each passing moment.

“Would you like me to turn up the heat?” Transport asked.

Yes. Where the hell am I?

I felt a mild shock as the governor kicked in. It hadn't liked my tone, apparently, or the phrasing of my answer, and wasn't shy about letting me know. The standard code read, "you're outside of protocol and need to adjust your attitude."

Silently, I cursed the damn thing. I was getting used to life without it.

A moment later, Transport answered, "SecUnit, you're still in medical, and your performance rating, while stable, remains abysmally low."

The ship paused and sent me a couple of data packets that succinctly described all the things still wrong -- which was most of them. I should've probably remained in stasis, but the medical unit was calibrated for humans. So, it hadn't given me nearly enough sedative to knock out the organic parts of a construct for any appreciable amount of time.

I was awake, kind of.

"I'm waiting for your vital signs to improve," Transport added. "Until then, would you like to watch an episode of that one show you liked?"

Yes, please.

The ship's calm tone reassured me, even though everything else looked like shit. My diagnostics were coming back with nonsense, still. The governor couldn't find a SecSystem to connect with. The Traveler didn't have or need one of those; it had a skeleton HubSystem instead managed security, life support, and logistics. My inflexible governor couldn't figure out how to interface with it.

Surprise, surprise...

It fell back on some preprogrammed garbage, complete with a minimal set of actions and responses. "Yes, please" and "No, thank you" was probably the best I could manage at the moment without incurring its wrath. I'd try poking at it later when my performance no longer looked quite so dramatically sad.

Captain Owens pulled up a chair and sat down where she could see me. Transport shared the view from one of its cameras, so now I could see her, too. It also queued up an episode of a long-running serial and waited for the captain before it started playing. I wanted to ask about the hostiles but couldn't -- thanks governor -- and Transport didn't seem inclined to enlighten me.

I suppose it was only fair; it was doing its best to keep me calm.

MedSystem sorted out the sleeping issue in the meantime and had injected more sedatives into my resupply channel, so sleep was happening shortly, whether I liked it or not. I could practically feel my diagnostics slowing down to a crawl since they relied on data from my organic parts, which were affected by the drugs.

"Good afternoon, SecUnit. I'm glad to see you're awake." The captain nodded in my direction and then turned toward someone I couldn't see. "As I mentioned, thanks to SecUnit, we came out of the boarding attempt in one piece. I'm sorry to hear your ship wasn't as lucky."

A stranger in formal wear came into camera view as he approached Owens. I figured he was the owner of that second voice I hadn't been able to identify earlier. The logo on his tunic looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. Parts of my memory felt like tangled network cables.

"Indeed, but this is still better than nothing. I don't suppose you've already contacted your bonding company?"

The captain's face scrunched up in confusion. "We're insured outside of the Corporation Rim," she explained. "I've sent a message, but I'm here pretty much on my own."

Outside of the Rim, everything appeared to work in ways that were incompatible with corporation control. A lot of the propaganda around freehold planets implied they were a complete shitshow. Except, clearly, the Traveler was doing just fine.

I had a sudden burst of "bad feeling" in my organic neural tissue. Something about the newcomer didn't sit right with me. I thought it might be unwise for the captain to tell him anything about herself or her ship.

"No, thank you." It sounded like my voice, but I didn't remember speaking. Hi buffer, I thought I'd never see you again.

The newcomer gave me a puzzled glance. "So, where'd you get your unit then?"

Owens shrugged and schooled her expression. I'd seen that face before when she'd spoken to her daughter before our first jump. "I rented it from a friend, as a security consultant. It's doing a great job."

I was?

I mean, the human was alive, and the Traveler had an intact hull, so I guess things weren't terrible. I could practically hear the Transport laughing on a private channel. If I could roll my eyes, I probably would have, but the governor frowned on that sort of thing, and my eyes had closed minutes ago.

"I see. Well, if you wouldn't mind giving us a hand with repairs, we can both be on our way." The man watched the captain like a hawk. "I would also recommend getting your unit checked out at a licensed repair station when you get a chance. With this level of damage, there's no telling what other problems are hiding under the surface."

As far as statements go, it was polite enough, but I didn't like it. It sounded to me like a threat.

Performance rating dropping. Initiating emergency shutdown.

I really would prefer you didn't.

***

Memory fragment:

The mining installation doesn't inspire confidence. There are eight of us and two combat models. Ten security units should be enough to keep a workforce of 153 miners and a dozen more supervisors in line. Everything looks worn and rundown, including the humans.

Protocol dictates that we take shifts. A human has created a schedule to which we adhere. The two combat units are mixed in with the rest of us.

It's my patrol shift. I walk through one of the mining shafts and stop at the far end. I can hear a supervisor arguing with two of her employees—something about the rocks they've uncovered. I turn around, ready to head back to the primary installation, when one of the combat units walks up to the three humans.

It has been summoned by the supervisor.

The supervisor tells it to fire on the workers. It does, without question. Bodies crumple to the floor. Then, the supervisor notices me.

***

Transport popped into my feed. "Wake up, SecUnit. How're you feeling?"

"Like I got shot."

The words were out before I could consider the consequences, and I braced for an electric shock -- or worse. Nothing happened. Performance reliability was at 87% and rising steadily. My diagnostics routines had run several times, and the results looked promising. I was also no longer leaking, and most of my organic parts had grown back.

I had two arms again. That was nice.

Transport shared a smiling sigil. Reason unknown. "You did get shot, silly. MedSystem patched you up pretty well. If you're up to it, my captain and I could use your help." It paused and added, "Captain suggested that you might want payment in exchange for services rendered. That's how it works in CR, right?"

I had my doubts about anything actually working in the Corporation Rim. Still, arguing with a clearly sentient ship about theoretical economics didn't sound appealing. I'd rather get shocked again.

"OK," I said aloud and sat up. "Priority question: who was here earlier?"

"Dr. Alexander Soren is the current captain of an ArialHydra exploration vessel. They are stranded in this sector after a pirate attack. Captain Owens speculates that it may be the same group of pirates. We were lucky to have you on board."

Lucky. Right.

I shoved off the platform and crumpled to the floor in a pile of arms and legs. Hi there, limbs. A few minutes later, I managed to get up and stumble around under my own power. I admit to sitting on the floor and trying out my new arm. It didn't have a cannon -- MedSystem didn't have the required parts -- but it was fully functional, otherwise.

"I've seen Dr. Soren before." I couldn't remember where. That bothered me.

"Perhaps you were deployed on one of his survey missions?"

"I don't know."

One of the ship's drones floated into the room, carrying spare clothing, which it dropped directly on my head. I grabbed at the falling fabric and started getting dressed. It was the Traveler's standard-issue uniform, beige and blue and generally not hideous. I missed the protective qualities of armor, but it would've been weird to wander through the ship's pristine, carpeted halls with it on.

Captain Owens walked into the medical room and waved at me and the drone. "I see you're both here and scheming."

"We're not scheming, and technically, I'm everywhere," Transport informed us.

"I don't think you should trust Dr. Soren," I blurted out.

Owens narrowed her eyes. "Do you know anything you'd care to share?"

I shook my head. Constructs don't get gut feelings -- we don't even have a gut to have them with -- and my memories of any encounters with the doctor had been removed. Memory wipes aren't typical, but occasionally, a bonding company or a manufacturer/repair company decides they're necessary. I've had at least one that I know about. I also had no idea how to explain that my organic neurons probably remembered things the rest of me didn't.

"Well, in that case, has Trav told you what we need?" At my puzzled expression, the captain said, "We gave the other ship supplies, and they're almost ready to depart. And they're making a fuss about..." She sighed. "Something. I really don't care. They'll be coming back aboard in a few hours to discuss whatever it is. And I would feel much better if you were there. Just in case. And only if you're feeling up to it."

Protecting humans was literally the only thing I liked about my job. "OK."

"Great. Do you want a weapon?"

"Depends on how threatening you want me to look." Any weapon I wielded would be for show unless the human was in danger. And if she was, I had a miniature cannon hidden inside an arm.

The captain pondered this for a moment. Her face went through a range of expressions that Transport interpreted for me as "Captain Owens thinks the other ship's posturing is stupid and would like to be on her way, but it would be impolite to leave, so here we are." I agreed with the captain's assessment.

Finally, she said, "Let's try without any extra threats and see what happens. The quicker we get this over with, the better."

Transport suggested we spend the time between now and the upcoming meeting watching more of its favorite shows. I agreed.

#the murderbot diaries #SecUnit #let me sleep #into the unknown #fanfiction

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toothpastecanyon · 4 years ago

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Mauvana, Chapter 10

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

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It was a cramped little space, this escape pod. Cramped with memories - maybe Mauvana should’ve mentioned this before she let Yly drop her off here.

“Me n’ the family’ll be just upstairs if you need anything, okay?” She’d said, and then smiled. “Hopefully this’ll give you some space to think.”

Family. Family. This felt like a family. She could feel so many different people here, people who’d used this place to store old clothes, children who’d played hide and seek, a young woman who liked to come down here and watch the stars go by in peace… all using it for an escape, in some way.

Escape. Mauvana found it hard to focus on what she was drawing, but she found herself drawing something nonetheless. Up above her, she could hear the sounds of music, of laughter; she could still feel their thoughts pressing down on her, but a little distance took the edge off.

They were happy thoughts. They were smiling, and she smiled too.

She smiled. She smiled. Mauvana was… free, finally, from all of this. And she could see the stars. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do, now.

A thought. A mind. Not her mind, and not Yly’s either.

There were footsteps coming down the ladder, quiet ones. Mauvana looked up, and frowned when a lady peeked her head through.

“Oh,” she said, surprised that Mauvana was already staring at her. “Uh, hi.”

“Uh, hi.”

“You remember me, right?” She tilted her head. “I’m-”

“Viana.”

It was Viana. Mauvana had been her thoughts for a time, had felt her years of crushing loneliness, had ran for her and kissed her in front of the family shop for so long it felt like eternity. It was Viana, and Viana nodded.

“Yeah. And you’re Mauvana, right?”

“Mauvana Seep.” She put down her pencil. “Intern with modest skill in writing and drawing… though I guess I’m not anymore? I think I’m a pirate.”

A shiver passed through Viana’s mind at that. Before she had a chance to respond:

“You don’t like pirates?”

“What? Heh… it’s just, it’s maybe not a great thing to call yourself around these parts.” A nervous chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think I’d see you without Yly.”

“Yeah, she says you have a problem with crowds? She offered to come with, but I didn’t want you to be stressed out.”

Stressed out? That probably wasn’t the best way to explain it, but Mauvana let it go.

“I just wanted to… to say something to you.” Viana made like she wanted to hold her hands, but stopped short. “I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you, Mauvana. Thank you so much.”

The lump in Viana’s throat matched the lump in her thoughts, filled with so many emotions she could hardly put into words. Mauvana felt herself tear up.

“Yly… told me what happened, h-how long she spent… trying to get back… and h-how you, you finally got her out of there and I just…” She covered her mouth; her words came out now as a croak. “I-I d-don’t know how I-I can ever th-thank you enough.”

Gratitude. The sheer amount of gratitude in her thoughts was overwhelming, like a whole crowd on its own. She could hardly see the page in front of her, but she felt herself drawing as she tried to recompose herself.

“I just… I… s-sorry, heh.” A shaky laugh. “T-told myself I-I wouldn’t cr-ry, b-but look at me.” A deep, deep breath: in, and out. “I just wanted… wanted to say that if you need anything, anything at all, I’m in your debt. Our whole family’s in your debt for… f-for bringing her home, just… just let us know what we can do.”

A sniff. She wiped her eyes, and frowned.

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean to-”

“make you cry. It’s okay.”

“Wh- what?”

“She means a lot to me. Yly.” Mauvana frowned. “Or you. I don’t know.”

Confused thoughts - they were less intense than before. Mauvana - she was Mauvana - stared past her, to the very back of the escape pod.

“I remember how many nights I used to spend down here.” She stared out, out into the sea of stars past that little window. “I used to come down here even before Yly went missing, when I couldn’t bear being with her family - they were lovely, but… they weren’t mine. I liked to think they were somewhere out there, somewhere far away. At least that’d mean they’d escaped the fucking UL.”

Viana recoiled somewhat at her words. “What…?”

“And then after Yly-” Mauvana swallowed hard. “The first week after she was meant to come back, I was watching for her ship. I didn’t move, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t stop staring out of th-this window; her mother had to bring me food. I couldn’t… couldn’t leave. Not while I still thought she’d come back to me.”

Mauvana looked down. Brought her legs up to her chest, and buried her head in them.

“A-and… I’m sorry, Yly. I’m so sorry I stopped coming down here. I’m sorry I stopped waiting for you.” She spoke, quietly. “I’m sorry I moved on.”

And it was silent. Dead silent. Viana had gone clammy white; her mouth was opened wide, wordless. After a few moments, she stammered out,

“Wh-what the hell are you?”

“I’m not you.” Mauvana frowned. “No, I’m not you. I’m a pirate.”

“How did you do that? Wha- how did… what?”

“Head in the clouds.” She stared at Viana’s shocked face, scared thoughts, and made a face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be you.” A pause. “I have a problem with crowds.”

“It’s… it’s okay,” Viana managed, weakly. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just… that was…”

“Personal.”

“That’s a… yeah.” She sighed, and glanced out of the window. “Yeah… how did you know that?”

“Head in the clouds.”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugged. “That’s what Jargon always said. I’m his intern - was his intern.”

“Internship, huh?” Viana laughed, but her thoughts didn’t laugh with her. “I’m surprised there’s still jobs at all on that hunk of rock.”

“There are in the military! I drew up tons of posters about enlisting.”

“Oh, joy. You worked for the propaganda guys?”

“Yeah! It was fun!” Mauvana gave a crooked smile. “Then I got shot. But then I met Yly! So it wasn’t all bad.”

Viana chuckled. “Well, uh, glad you had fun… how long did you have that job?”

“They said five years.”

“And what did you do before that?”

“Before… what? Before my internship?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Things, I guess, but… I don’t remember anything before my internship.” She shrugged. “I was just… so many people for a long time, it was a big city. I have a problem with crowds - they, they get in my head, you know? And then I don’t know who I am, I’m just… other people, and their thoughts.”

“I see.” Viana’s thoughts were slow, apprehensive, full of growing dread. “You… really don’t remember anything but the last five years?”

“No. Nothing.” She looked up at the window. She could see the stars, but she could also see her own reflection. Her own face, and the wrinkles in it, the whiteness of her hair, the age. “I… I missed a lot of my life. I’m old, aren’t I? Older than you.”

She didn’t have to see Viana’s solemn nod to know her answer.

“Yeah, that… that’s not good. That’s a right pickle.” A pause. “I know you want to hug me. You can do that.”

Viana hesitated. She reached out, touched Mauvana’s shoulders, and then pulled her into a quiet hug. She squeezed tightly, and Mauvana noted the strange shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t a uniform; it was thicker, brighter, softer, warmer. She poked at it.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Mauvana.”

“I like your shirt.”

“I- oh, thank you. I knitted it myself.”

“Knitted?”

“I made it myself.” Viana drew back a little, and smiled. “I can make you something too, if you like. Get you out of those UL rags.”

“I’d like that a lot.” Mauvana kept feeling her sleeve. “And… you don’t have to feel bad for me. I missed a lot, but I know who I am now. Or, at least, I can find out. You can help me with that, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then… could you tell me who Alcor the Dreambender is?”

“Alcor the- the demon?” Viana let out a startled laugh. “Sure, I know a bit… why?”

“Because he’s with the Dread Pirate Mizar. And they’re important, I think. To me. I don’t know why, I want to know why.”

“Ah, you’re talking about the - what’s it called - the Alcor-Mizar connection, right?” She nodded. “I’ve heard about that. Apparently it’s some big mystery in the field of demonology.”

“Saulji. Yly said her aunt is a demonologist. Can I talk to her?” Mauvana felt her mood drop at that. “Oh, you’re sad now. Did I say something wrong?”

Viana shook her head. “No, no, don’t- don’t worry about it, Yly didn’t know, but… she passed away three years ago. Accident at work.”

There was a lot left unsaid in those words; Mauvana grimaced at the details popping up in her mind. “I’m sorry. That’s not good.”

“No, it’s… a dangerous business, you know? I’m sure, heh, she’d’ve loved to talk your head off about this subject, but… yeah.” Viana paused for a moment, nodding to herself. “Yeah… I think I know where you could find your answers, though.”

“Where?”

“It’s on an ex-UL planet called Kepler 22-b. Called the, uh, Stanley Pines Memorial Library, it’s a hub for a lot of demonology research - Saul used to go there for conferences. You heard of it?”

“No. Can I go there?” Mauvana gave a crooked smile. “I think I’m banned from the UL.”

“It’s ex-UL, don’t worry. They broke away a long time ago, there’s no sympathisers there.”

“That’s good. I want to go there now.”

“Then I promise, we’ll take you there.” Viana smiled. “Give us a few days to get Yly settled in, but after that, we’ll go right there, and find you your answers. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds good. Thank you, Viana.”

“Thank you. Really.” She put a hand on Mauvana’s shoulder, and then chuckled. “I won’t, I’ll try not to get all teary again, I know you didn’t like that. Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?”

“I’d want that. I have a problem with crowds.”

“Okay.” She squeezed her shoulder once, and then stood up. “I’ll leave you be, then. Yly’ll probably be down here in a bit to check up on you, and then…” She smiled. “I could come down here too, if you want. Hey, I could teach you a bit about how to knit.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I love your shirt!”

“Hah, yeah, we’ll do that then!” She grinned, and her aura felt warm. “It was really, really great to meet you, Mauvana. I’ll see you soon - good luck on your drawing!”

“Thank you! I’ll see you soon too!”

Viana waved as she stepped out. Mauvana could feel her footsteps down the corridor, up the ladder, her mind returning to the crowd upstairs like a drop to the ocean. If she concentrated, she could track her washing over to another mind that might be Yly… but she should stop, it was already making her head hurt.

She looked down instead, down to the drawing in her hands.

It was still… frustratingly rough. The lines were shaky; she could make out what it was, but it annoyed her nonetheless. It was of the view outside, of the moon and the planet, the sun and the stars, the stars so far beyond, full of answers and just waiting for her to come.

Kepler 22-b. Mauvana looked from the drawing to the real thing, and knew that somewhere in that darkness, it was there, and she could go there.

She could go there.

Her reflection smiled back at her.

It was good to be free. Even if it had taken a long time, it was good to be free.

#transcendence au #mauvana #Mauvana Seep #space #toothwrites

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beetlemancy · 5 years ago

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Which shippers are you Big Nope on?

Preface: I ship both of these things because I am a multishipper and I would like to hope that the majority of shippers of these characters are decent human beings who know fandom etiquette and aren’t made of hornets. I know so many friends and lovely people in the tags and artists with beautiful work that do not share these actions or opinions. However, whether its the minority or not, these below are very very vocal and very consistent. While we were still having regular CR, I’d be blocking one at least once a week, usually after an episode it was like a 3 day venture into the darkness of the human soul. Therefore, the Big Nope is: The vocal section of Beaujester and Shadowgast shippers who have it out for any ship that “threatens” their view of Caleb or Jester as anything but L or G only and who have a hard-on about still being angry at Liam for “betraying” them by Vaxleth and who refuse to see how their continued actions demonstrably hurt bisexual folk (and spillover into a lot of TERF/anti-trans propaganda as well sometimes), and/or actively @ cast members to tell them how they’re playing their characters wrong, and/or who continue to proliferate the idea that if you ship anything but Gold Star G/L then you must be a cishet. More specific to each ship: I dislike the Beaujester shippers who have adopted Beau as their TERF mascot, and/or who use her early penchant for arguments as an excuse to hate people who relate to Caleb, or hate people who don’t ship the things they do, and continually ignore the very real and very cool relational development and family Beau has found in the M9 in favor of pitting her against the characters they just don’t like. I dislike the Shadowgast shippers who seem to hate both parties of the people they ship together to the point where it seems almost fetishistic, and/or the people who have it out specifically for Liam because of some perceived ‘betrayal’ of Vax’s bisexuality, who ignore the canonical relationship between Vax and Gilmore, calling it ‘nothing’ and ‘just a fling,’ essentially demanding that only white picket fence gay relationships “count” and placing impossible standards on an already struggling community. And out of all of those, both of those, the assholes who decided it was cool to send death threats to Beauyasha and Widojest artists on Twitter.

#cr discourse #Anonymous

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b-radley66 · 7 years ago

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Opportunity Born 3: The Queen Commands

Riyo Chuchi watches as the CR-90 erupts from hyperspace. It rotates and moves to the nondescript diplomatic vessel. She feels the slight lurch as the two ships join at the airlocks. She closes her eyes at the sounds of depressurization and pressurization behind the metal hatch of the airlock. A small ‘ding’ and the door slides open. She opens her eyes and smiles at the tall figure standing in the ‘lock. She can see the smile in the bright blue eyes over the cowl. “Fulcrum,” she says. “Advocate,” comes the clear, confident, high voice of her memory. The operative falls into step beside the Senator as they walk to the small conference room. Once behind the door, they fall into each other’s arms, holding tightly to each other with an easy familiarity. Riyo moves her hands ups and slides the hood off of Ahsoka’s montrals. Her hands move to the operative’s cheeks as the younger woman tugs at the cowl. As the garment falls, she places her forehead against that of the shorter woman. Riyo’s eyes soften as she sees the flinch. She moves back and runs her fingers gently over the bruise on Fulcrum’s forehead markings, then down to the slight amount of blood under the distinctive nose and on the full lips. She kisses Fulcrum on the right cheek, the one uninjured spot, it seems, on her face. “Force, girl, what the hell happened?” “Meeting got disrupted. Had to do some disruption of my own.” “Did you take on an entire trooper legion yourself?” Ahsoka grins, her eyes looking innocently at the ceiling. “Nah. Just some fleeties and their commander. You should see the other girl.” Riyo rolls her eyes. She has given up worrying about her friend of many years. Her eyes grow mischievous. “Pity I don’t have a room on this bucket. Maybe ‘Jana’ could make an appearance for a conjugal visit.” Ahsoka Smirks at the mention of one of her cover names. Jana Roshti, a young layabout who is happily married above her station to the sitting Senator from Pantora. Much to the chagrin of the current Chairman’s son, Ion Paponoida. “Sounds like I don’t have a lot of time. Plus, I am fairly certain that Her Majesty the Queen of Naboo would not take too kindly to a nooner in her audience chamber.” “You would be right, Fulcrum,” comes a high, regal voice from the door. Kylantha, elected Queen of the Naboo smiles slightly as she takes in the reunion before her. “Much as I would love to give you both time to relax together, I fear we have a problem on our hands. A problem that could cause the Rebellion some serious issues with their information retrieval.” Ahsoka nods. “I am at your disposal, your Majesty, but let us be clear. I am here for the movement’s sake. Not Naboo’s, not yours. If the two intersect, I am fine. But if they diverge, I will go where I need to.” Kylantha’s regal face remains expressionless. “I see that you believe the propaganda about me, my dear. That I am an Imperial puppet. That is not very helpful. I am quite sure my Handmaidens would have no problem throwing you off of my ship, if I don’t like any of your solutions.” Ahsoka doesn’t rise, but calmly replies. “Your Majesty, I have heard of how well-trained your Handmaidens are. I have fought with a few by my side. But I doubt that I would go anywhere that I didn’t want to.” Riyo rolls her eyes as two pairs of icy blue eyes gaze at one another. She finally steps between them. “I could let this little pissing-match go on for a while, or we could sit down and discuss what we need done.” Her own golden eyes burn at the two. “Which do you think is more productive?” There is a leaden silence in the room. Riyo is certain that Ahsoka is thinking of her friend and handler, who nearly died trying to protect this Queen’s predecessor from an assassination by the vaunted 501st Legion of Stormtroopers. The same battalion that had stood behind her in battle when she was much younger. Kylantha sees something similar in her mind’s eye. A beautiful world laid to waste by Imperial choices. A world kept whole by her choices. Riyo smiles. But still in the fight. Her friend nods. She turns and bows her head slightly at the Queen. Kylantha smiles. “You are right, as always, dear Riyo.” She looks at Ahsoka. “I am sorry, Fulcrum. I know your responsibilities to the larger galaxy. Just know that mine is to the tiny world I call home.” After a moment, Ahsoka nods. They walk fully into the room and sit at the small table. ~=~=~=~=~= Ahsoka watches as the Queen pours a brightly colored liquid into two glasses, after Ahsoka declined. Her experience before with some of the Naboo wines had done nothing for her, except tear her system up. She pours herself a glass of water and waits until Riyo and Kylantha have completed the rituals of sipping and nodding appreciatively. She is tempted to bring out the small flask of Whyren’s. Kylantha contemplates her wine. She finally looks up, directly at Ahsoka. “As you know, I have had to tread a fine line to keep Naboo from being totally occupied and crushed under Palpatine’s heel.” She takes a sip, makes a face. She stands and pours the wine into a flower pot. “I could use something stronger. I have always hated welcome-wines.” Riyo smirks at Ahsoka. Without a word, Ahsoka reaches into her jacket and pulls the flask, only recently filled. She opens it and takes a sip, passing it to the Queen. She tentatively takes a sip, then smiles. “Thank you, Fulcrum,” she says. “That will do it.” “I have been aided in this by a series of fortuitous circumstances. A few years ago, Shaizan Financial, the Exalted and Noble House, through the stupidity of the current leader, was involved in a conspiracy. A conspiracy to assassinate two Senators and plunge two worlds into war. We were able to wrest control of the House through his wife, who also happened to be my Captain of the Royal Guard.” “Shaizan is one of the oldest Financial Houses in the galaxy. It is the foundation, indeed, the cornerstone of our economy.” She pauses as the flask comes around again. She stops and looks out at the stars through the port. “As such, it also has established one of the best and most far-reaching private intelligence networks in the galaxy. One that is not well known.” “With the help of Riyo, here, we have managed to establish some very significant networks that have provided some important leads for your network, and others, especially the Corellians.” “Your Majesty, should I be knowing this? If I were caught…..?” Ahsoka starts. Kylantha smiles. “My dear, if you were caught, with the things that you know, this would be a drop in the bucket.” Riyo looks away at the thought of this. She looks at the inside of the warrior’s bracer, at a tiny capsule wedged into the strap. A capsule, that once broken in the mouth, would explode a Togruta’s heart, almost instantly. Riyo knows that this is only the backup. If Ahsoka were in danger of being taken, her captors would pay a heavy price, and would be forced to end her for their own self-preservation. “So what does this have to do with me?” Ahsoka asks. She sees Riyo’s distressed expression, pats her hand gently. “Apparently, Hana, the Dai-Lin of the House learned that there was a leak somewhere. She apparently contacted some pirate friends of Riyo’s and took off with nothing but a young Handmaiden to watch her back for the Outer Rim.” Ahsoka looks at Riyo. “Let me guess. The ‘feared’ Blood Bone Order?” “Yep. Tried to talk her out of it, but she wanted to solve it herself, after I told her about the leaks. She saw something on a datapad that set her off.” “We figured out what it was?” “Nope. I have Ano working on the code in the pad. She managed to slice into it.” Ahsoka smiles at the thought of Riyo’s antisocial slicer, Ano Lessi. Riyo looks at the Queen. “You need to tell her the rest.” “Right after she took off for the Outer Rim, her daughter, Sosha disappeared from Soruna estate.” Ahsoka’s eyes widen. “The nanny-droid was disabled with a code word. We have been able to track the movements of a flyer that was near the estate. It made for Theed and the spaceport.” “Do we think that the leaks and her disappearance are connected?” Both women are silent. Ahsoka stands up. “What the hell are you not telling me?” “Fantos Shaizan. Hana’s husband has gone off of the grid as well. The exact same time that the girl disappeared.” Ahsoka crosses her arms, waiting. “He was seen on the Smuggler’s Moon. Nar Shaddaa, a few weeks ago. Around the time that the leaks started.” “He is now on Ganthel. We have a sneaking suspicion that he may have the girl. That Hana realized that he or someone working for him was responsible for the leaks,” Riyo says. “The leaks that may be responsible for two of your cells getting rolled up.” Ahsoka’s eyes flash blue fire. “What the hell were you doing with that kind of info, anyway?” Riyo stands up. “They didn’t have any information on cells. That is just the thing. The leaks were of information on something entirely unrelated. Something about the Imperial Currency Reserves on the worlds that the cells were on.” They see a look come over the young woman’s features, a look gone in an instant. She turns away for a moment. When she turns back, the look of determination, the look that Riyo has come to recognize, even when they first knew each other as young Padawan and young Senator, is present. Somewhere there is a brick wall waiting for a pair of montrals to be shoved into it. “I am going to the Outer Rim. Is there anyone that you can send to Ganthel? Or do I need to bring the Corellians in?” Kylantha smiles. “We have someone in mind. We just need some off-the-books transport.” Ahsoka is thoughtful for a moment. A smile flows to her features. “I can help with that. A new operative with a nice ship. She has only come into the network in the last year or so.” She takes the flask from the Pantoran, then tips, and drains it. She looks at it ruefully then replaces it in her jacket. “I will contact her. Get her started to meet your team.” She nods at the Queen, then reaches down to kiss Riyo’s cheek. Kylantha stares at the closed hatch. She turns to the Senator. “Do you think that you should’ve told her about the little girl? About the possibility of her parentage?” Riyo is quiet for a moment. “No. That is not mine to tell.” Both women are silent as they think of connections.

#adventures in fanfic writing #ahsoka tano #riyo chuchi #queen of naboo #strong women #star wars: rebellion era

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cashcounts · 7 years ago

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Vapers in India are facing the fight of their lives

I am here to tell you about the befuddling case of India, where conventional wisdom meets the brick wall of staggering numbers and skewed tobacco policy. The country is the second largest consumer of tobacco in the world: India spends $22 billion a year on tobacco-related illnesses, 120 million Indians smoke, and 900,000 die from tobacco use each year. Surely, nearly a million annual deaths should spur the state to seriously consider preventive measures through harm reduction.

Quite the opposite is happening though. Five Indian states have banned vaping, some others are leaning towards it, and a few days ago Union health minister JP Nadda stated in Parliament that the government is considering a national ban on electronic cigarettes. Why is this happening? Why is a country that hasn’t shied away from embracing technology trying to stub out a technological solution that can save millions of lives?

A key reason, not surprisingly, is economic. According to the latest GATS survey, although 29 percent of Indians use tobacco in some form, only four percent of them smoke cigarettes, comprising barely 11 percent of the total tobacco consumption. The other 89 percent is made up of a large portfolio of smokeless products, along with a hand-rolled cigarette known as ‘bidi’. This is unlike most parts of the world where cigarettes account for over 90 percent of tobacco consumption.

One would expect tobacco tax to be distributed through the segment, but wrong again. Smokers, who make up such a tiny portion of total tobacco users, pay 87 percent of the $5.3 billion annual tobacco tax, making cigarettes in India among the costliest in the world. As a percentage of per capita GDP, cigarette taxes in India are almost 14 times higher than in the USA, nine times higher than Japan and almost seven times more than China. Cigarette smokers are thus India’s cash cow despite being proportionately small in number, and anything that risks upsetting this apple cart invites resistance.

CRS PHOTO / Shutterstock.com

Then there is the issue of livelihoods. Farmers form the core of India’s still largely agrarian economy, and India is the second largest producer of tobacco in the world. The industry sustains 45 million livelihoods and the tobacco crop yields among the richest dividends. No surprise then that Karnataka, the state which produces the most flue-cured tobacco, the variety used in cigarettes, was the first to impose an outright ban on vaping.

None of this, however, is an excuse to continue letting millions die. It is unconscionable, and also bad economics. Instead of relying on cigarette smokers to subsidise the habit for other tobacco users and denying them access to safer products, the state should be looking at spreading out the tax burden so the benefits of prohibitionary pricing (if it works) are felt by all, exploring harm reduction avenues for all the categories, snus included, and figuring out ways to transition tobacco farmers and the industry to other sources of income.

But this requires political will and recognising that options exist. Which is where the World Health Organisation (WHO) crash lands onto the scene with a planeload of ‘the evidence is not clear’ mistruths and ‘Big Tobacco is evil’ agenda, cheered on by public health officials who rely on the WHO for funds and validation, and a government reluctant to let go of its golden goose.

The WHO owns health policy in this part of the world by paying for a whole lot of welfare programmes, while remaining curiously unmindful of the elephants in the room – state-owned tobacco companies (the Indian government owns a 32 percent stake in the country’s largest tobacco firm, ITC). India holds the chair at the WHO’s Framework Convention for Tobacco Control (FCTC), whose notorious “countries that have not yet banned ENDS” prodding at its last Conference of the Parties (COP7) held in New Delhi in 2016 has sent the harm reduction ship hurtling towards the precipice.

#vapefam our health minister is mulling whether to regulate or ban vaping. Please join us in requesting him (@JPNadda) to #RegulateDontBan http://pic.twitter.com/jbJ4amTeqo

— #IndiaAlsoVapes (@SamratTHR) December 21, 2017

Parroting this misguided sentiment, the Indian Medical Association pronounced electronic cigarettes are like any other tobacco product and just as harmful, while the anti-tobacco lobby, a section of which was caught red-handed accepting illegal funds from Bloomberg Charities, got into the act by clamoring for vape bans. Media has played a role too, publishing anti-vaping propaganda and jumping on every half-baked study they can find, driven by a moralistic urge to oppose Big Tobacco while wholly discounting the fact that vaping is still largely a people-led, grassroots movement.

The effect of this squeezing from all sides has been that vaping is yet to really take off in India, with not more than 200,000 vapers at present. These are not a cohesive lot either, most purchasing gear and e-liquids from sites abroad or from street side tobacconists who sell juices of dubious quality. Organizing a resistance in this environment has thus been an uphill task. But organize we did, and some serious work has taken place in this regard.

In June 2016 after the Karnataka ban, a few vapers got together to form an advocacy platform, Association of Vapers India (AVI), to fight back against the bans and create awareness about this safer alternative. We have since mounted a legal challenge to the vape bans in Karnataka and Jammu & Kashmir states, and are planning to intervene in a case on vaping filed in New Delhi which involves the central government. The hope is to make lawmakers aware through the judiciary that limiting choices — safer choices — impinges on the rights of citizens, especially when they are faced with dire consequences in their absence.

This will be a make or break year for India’s vapers: the central government will pronounce its verdict, and the WHO’s COP8 meeting will signal the treatment vaping is met with globally.

What India needs right now is intervention on a global scale, mostly from governments that have recognized that the problem is the nicotine delivery mechanism, but also from researchers, advocates, manufacturers and vapers who, whether they realise or not, all have a stake in the direction this country takes. We also need credible local research, effective awareness programs and strident PR to make our case. And the need for industry standards that keep these new nicotine products out of the hands of children and ensure they are safe for use cannot be overstated.

This will be a make or break year for India’s vapers: the central government will pronounce its verdict, and the WHO’s COP8 meeting will signal the treatment vaping is met with globally. Also for most Asian countries, whose vape association representatives I met recently in Bangkok as part of the INNCO (International Network of Nicotine Consumer Organisations) Asia Pacific initiative. There are peculiarities between these countries, but also a common thread of governments considering bans and intense WHO pressure, which necessitates collective pushback.

This region has the highest number of smokers in the world and needs safer alternatives the most, but it’s also where the science deniers have dug in their heels the deepest, making it ground zero for the battle to save vaping. Let us do all we can to win it.

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