#ews quota

[indizombie]

Various surveys have confirmed that the other backward classes, Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes are over-represented in the proportion of poor. The forward caste groups are considerably better off as a class or group, even if there are poor individuals amongst them. Therefore, the reservation has always dealt with class poverty. By determining a class on the basis of economic criteria – income below Rs 8 lakh per annum of a family or individual – the EWS quota, ex facie, infringes the principles of constitutional equality and renders the concept of reservation, as known to the Indian Constitution, virtually unrecognisable. In short, EWS is ambiguous, arbitrary and alien to the established principles of constitutional equality.

Manuraj Shunmugasundaram, ‘EWS judgment is a setback to social justice, India’s constitutional scheme’, Indian Express

[rightnewshindi]

10 फीसदी ईडब्ल्यूएस कोटा आरक्षण को करता है कमजोर, पी चिदंबरम बोले, संविधान खतरे में है

#News 10 फीसदी ईडब्ल्यूएस कोटा आरक्षण को करता है कमजोर, पी चिदंबरम बोले, संविधान खतरे में है

P Chidambaram News: पूर्व वित्त मंत्री और कांग्रेस के सीनियर नेता पी चिदंबरम ने आरक्षण को लेकर मोदी सरकार पर जमकर निशाना साधा. उन्होंने कहा कि पीएम मोदी के नेतृत्व वाली बीजेपी सरकार आरक्षण खत्म करने में संकोच नहीं करेगी. चिदंबरम ने कहा कि 13 वां संशोधन, जिसमें आर्थिक रूप से कमजोर वर्गों (EWS) को 10 प्रतिशत कोटा दिया जाता है. वह आरक्षण को कमजोर करता है. संविधान संशोधन करने की तैयारी में BJP ये…

[goteso]

On this special day, we are offering free IT training to the girl child who belongs to Economically Weaker Section (EWS). She can join any course from a list of online courses mentioned on our website. For more information, you can visit the link below. Link - https://www.goteso.com/training/

[newx24]

Explained - EWS Quota in SC & why the Chief Justice Dissented! | #NewsX24

[dwitnessdaily]

SupremeCourt upholds the Constitution Amendment Bill providing 10% EWS reservation to Economically Weaker Sections.

[briarberrythornedhart]

Sitting in his lap Part 2

Can be read alone I think. Fluff with a happy ending

CW: cursing/strong language, angst, yelling, lustful thoughts, backwash in soda (ew)

You cocked your eyebrow at him.

Eddie didn't…couldn’t … SURELY MUSN’T know what he was offering - what it would feel like to you? Maybe he just didn’t want to move his ass out of the throne for one minute? That would be a new level of lazy for Mr. ants in the pants.

“I’m serious.” He said, “ Sit down in my lap and see what it’s like- the view from here. Being in charge.” Eddie scooted backward to give you the most lap to sit on, spread his knees armrest to armrest wide and rolled his shoulders back. “Be their benevolent ruler... their peace-loving goddess.”

Okay. As if ignoring Eddie was possible, especially if he was close. As if you hadn’t dreamt of being on his lap.

“C’mon - Pretend I’m like your…grand vizier. Whispering evil advice in your ear but you can ignore me all you like because clever-you always finds the peaceful solutions which are probably smarter or whatever…” he trailed off, which was good because he was starting to sound a little sullen for some reason.

Only — in your dreams the guys weren’t nearby fighting over pizza like rabid raccoons and in your dreams Eddie was near-to-full naked and in your dreams he was removing your clothes… anyway… here you were with your friendly DM who didn’t intend this as a prelude to seducing you.

You ached with unshed tears inside. Hidden from anyone’s view. No one could know how Eddie made you feel, that would make it worse.

You settled yourself down on his thighs. Resigned to torture. You could cope with torture.

He felt too good.

He spoke low in your ear and it sent a shiver up your spine “Imagine.” His voice a purr. “All their eyes on you, hanging on your every word. Waiting for your planned session to unfold.” He moved a lock of your hair over your ear gently and your breath caught - hopefully he didn’t notice. “Heady stuff.”

“I know why you enjoy it, but I don’t think I would. Also, kinda doubt I could command the respect you get. I can’t do the voices and accents you do and all you have to do is clear your throat and we all snap to attention - which you LOVE.”

Eddie chuckled, “I do love that. I could coach you... give you tips, I’m just saying try it once, like... pineapple on pizza. Might develop a taste for it and It can’t hurt you.”

“Unless you’re allergic to pineapple.” You added. Making him snort. You turned towards him and looked (unwisely) at his lips. Gawd his lips. Then his eyes, back again to his lips. You could just lean in and taste them and ruin everything.

“Princess,” he was serious now. His voice pitched even lower. Eddie had called you ‘princess’ 3 times since you met and it was always very serious.

1 - ‘Princess, Chance Peterson was about to knock your ass right over, I had to scoop you out of the way.”

2 - ‘You know if you keep arguing with me at my locker, Princess, you’ll be late to Mrs. Guise’s class and she gives out detentions like she’s got a quota.’

3- ‘I don’t care if you saw a pretty wildflower out there, that part of the woods by Lover’s lake is rife with poison oak, gawd!! Princess, just... I’ll find you a pretty-ass flower, okay, just get out of the bushes, please?? You’re gonna ruin our Hellfire trip to the lake by making us all drive you home covered in a rash!’

Oh no. It was probably ‘I feel you squirming in my lap and caught you looking at my mouth but it’s not doing anything for me - we are just friends.’ or something dreadful along those lines. Cause you felt heat and pressure under your bottom, but it was probably not him getting an erection - like - wouldn’t his face show some sign... wouldn’t he grip your thighs and grind up against you and say your name in your ear...

You were saved by (your favorite, your self-adopted baby brother) Dustin returning to the gaming table. “Hey guys!” Making you both jump up - you personally feeling oddly guilty. “…there’s not going to be enough pizza for you if you don’t get over there. I know Eddie did the pizza math but I don’t think he reckoned on the bottomless pit of Gareth the Great’s stomach.”

“You had 4 pieces yourself, dingus!!” Gareth yelled.

“Only after I saw you go back for seconds!” Dustin threw his arms out pleading for justice to Eddie.

Eddie moved behind you, stage whispering “Talk to them, they need your divine guidance with resolving petty conflicts nonviolently.”

“Cease bickering.” You demanded. “There’s plenty of pizza left. Eddie’s pizza math is infallible.”

“Okaaaay ‘Mom’ don’t go and ground us...” Gareth started out with heavy sass. But he looked over your shoulder at Eddie and suddenly buttoned his beak.

You continued. “Dustin, go make a plate for Eddie. Three slices of pepperoni. And bring over that bottle of Dr. Pepper to refill his chalice before all that’s left is backwash.” You knew Eddie’s favorites. Of course.

“Ew. Backwash?? Gross.” Dustin shuddered but complied.

“Gareth, go get her Majesty three pieces of plain cheese. And the pepper flakes and the Parmesan flakes and one of the red cups with RC Cola and mostly ice.” Eddie ordered. Maybe he just guessed at your very favorite pizza night choices??

Your attention was fully back on Eddie. He nudged you in the arm with his shoulder. “So... before we were so rudely interrupted... I was trying to suggest thaaa....”

“We are out of cups.” Gareth interrupted with a grimace, bringing back a plate for you..

“Whaddaya mean we are ‘out’? I bought two sleeves of them at the beginning of the year... There were only 6 of you until the gals joined us. There should be plenty!” Eddie was more upset than you thought he should be.

“Yeah - I dunno - but Jeff just took the last one.” Gareth shrugged

You took the plate and made a ‘calm down’ gesture. “It’s fine - Don’t throw Jeff under the bus - I’ll be just fine. I’m more hungry than thirsty - it’s cool. ‘We’re all fine here... now’” You did your best Han Solo to try and diffuse the tension. But - It was mediocre at best. Not like Eddie’s.

“We can share.” Eddie made this a challenge, handing you his hellfire goblet- it must be said - very theatrically. His right hand was wrapped around the bowl of the chalice instead of the stem - rather like you wished he’d wrap those fingers around your.... Well.... suffice it to say you both had watched a lot of fantasy movies of one type or another. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not tainted by my lips touching it or something. Or are you worried about backwash or whatever.”

“I’m not .... worried... just give it here.” You took the jeweled cup and tried not to react to the feel of his hand and yours touching. Even the littlest things involving Eddie got you worked up. You took a long sip while he watched you with his dark eyes - and then you handed it back. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” There was a touch of something.... Sarcasm? In his voice. “See we can share and nothing bad happens. You don’t sink down to my level or anything.”

That was out of left field... or some other sports metaphor you didn’t fully grok, “What?? are you even talking about??”

“I know I know, I’m beneath you and everything, but it wouldn’t diminish you to, like, spend time with me outside of Hellfire club. I wouldn’t endanger your reputation, we could keep it secret. Like, you know, your other ‘normie’ girl friends probably think I’m trash, but I’m just a guy, j-just a normal guy...we could plan a one-shot, or... hang out like watch a movie or something.”

“First off - if any of my gal-friends - who are not ‘normal’ by the way - said you were trash I’d tell them what for. Secondly - I’ve asked you to hang out multiple times and you’ve oh so politely declined.”

“You asked me if I wanted to hang out with you and Dustin and Lucas... to go thrift shopping and do errands. I told you you could borrow my van if you needed it.”

“I didn’t want to borrow your van. I wanted to hang out with you. And I thought with them along, you wouldn’t say no - like - it’d be casual and safe.”

“Because you didn’t want me to get ideas.” he spat.

“No - just because you might be afraid I’d try and jump your bones, if it was just us two.”

“Jump my....Why would I think you’d ... jump my bones, you can barely stand me! You always run outta here after Hellfire!”

“I go right home so I don’t have to hear about you and your perfect pretty runway model Chrissy!!”

“I’m NOT with Chrissy!! She just buys from me, goddamnit! You are the one who keeps going out with the bland guy of the week!!”

“I have no control over the only guys asking me out being BORING as SHIT! And I haven’t been on a date in TWO MONTHS actually!! I’d rather not date than be bored!!”

“Then ::fuck:: WHy are WE Yelling!??!”

“Because I ADORE you, You DUMBASS!!” You blurted out. “You can’t just pull me into your lap and make me fuckin melt and play with me like a puppet and wonder why I’m upset??! yOU CAN’T BE that oBLIVIOUS!!”

Shit. See this - this right here - is why you avoid conflict like the plague. You know you are one second away from truth bombs that will blow up your life and You DIDN’T need Eddie feeling Sorry for you!! Or all the boys feeling sorry for you - all their eyes were on you for a bad reason and - only Erica wasn’t giving you a look like you were a pitiable creature. She was absolutely about to laugh at your ass, though.

“I failed.” Eddie bit his lips together, he reached out to take your hand and wove his fingers with yours. “I totally failed to pick up on that. Wow. Just crit fail on that perception check that you might ever like me back... But... um... I’m crazy about you... so... forgive me??” He closed the distance between you. He pulled your hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it.

You were quiet - processing - did he just say he was crazy about... you?? Detect trap?? Retreat to safety?? Join a convent and abjure forever the company of men??

He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head slightly, waiting.

“I’m not mad at you.” You whispered.

“Let’s do errands sometime, but just us two. And - uh - I prefer to be called ‘smartass’ than ‘dumbass’, you know, in general.” He grinned the grin you recognized from when he made a particularly good roll of the dice.

“Fuckin finally.” You heard Jeff mutter. “Mom and Dad can stop fighting.”

“Yeah - just get it over with and real quickly kiss and make up, ya idjits!” Erica demanded. “We want to get back to kicking ass in the GAME.”

Eddie leaned in to say deep and sweet in your ear. “The first time we kiss-- it isn’t gonna be over with quickly.”

[blakecooley]

How to sabotage your work without losing your job (probably)

Hi! Lifelong contrarian and well-known pain in the ass here. I’ve noticed a recent trend following the unsurprisingly quiet death of the conversation around “quiet quitting” and well, I’m hardly seeing anybody talking much anymore about passive resistance at work. Sure, there's always the under the radar talk of big, showy ways of sabotaging your job. That’s great for some. Heck, might even make you feel like a real hero throwing a literal wrench into that conveyor belt. And to those willing to take the risk, cheers! We’re eternally grateful for your contribution in the fight against capitalism! But most of us teeter in a cosmically cruel paradox whereby we recognize that the systems that dictate our lives and extract our very livelihoods in order to fuel itself have likewise arranged themselves to be our sole means of survival in an attempt to guarantee eternal subservience and supply. (We need our jobs. Ew, bummer.)

Look, we all hate them. We all know and understand exactly how wildly unnatural, inhumane and exploitative they are. But goddamn wouldn’t you know it, the local utility just absolutely refuses to barter. And until they do we have to keep going to our stupid, pointless jobs that we know are slowly killing us but(!) don’t give up hope! Just because you can’t afford to lose your job doesn’t mean you can’t make things generally difficult for your employer, slow work down a few ticks and ultimately waste company resources! Today I’m going to offer you a few tried and true tips that I’ve collected along my twenty years as a member of the american workforce on how to quietly and mostly passively sabotage your work. Welcome to the resistance! Time to not get to work!

First up is a hard one that I feel might be met with some criticism. Which, I honestly understand as it seems counterproductive to the overall goal but, you have to be good at your job. I would never ask that anyone care about their job or devote a second more than is contractually required to even thinking about it but everything else is going to be a lot easier to accomplish if you’re not a problem employee. You don’t need to be stellar or outstanding at your job, in fact that would be aggressively productive for the company and ultimately counterproductive to your efforts towards counterproductivity and frankly is a lot of work. But be good enough at it that no one gives you much of a thought. This means avoiding write-ups, being generally present and on time, not being noticeably hungover or stoned at work and most importantly being consistent. Bosses love that shit. People that they can rely on without thinking about them make their lives easier and can often get a little more leeway with the rules. You need this to succeed at failing.

With that out of the way, onward! To impishness and the foiling of toiling!

Slow down. This seems obvious and I won’t spend much time on it but, slow down. Be deliberate, be mindful, be consistent. (There’s that word again!) Be slow. You don’t have to be sluggish or make your motions theatrically drawn out but just move a little more slowly than anyone else. While some are more concretely quantifiable than others, we all have expected productivity rates at our crummy jobs. How many orders have you served? How many phone calls have you taken? How many parcels did you pick, stack, toss or deliver? How many emails did you respond to? Fuck ‘em. Don’t meet these often arbitrary, almost always aggressively enforced, micro-deadlines. Hover. Float along just below quota. Not enough to get in trouble but just enough that other people have to wait on you, consistently. Measure every portion before plating. Run that dishwasher twice. Leave that detailed voicemail to confirm receipt of the email you just sent (I don’t know how office jobs work. Ask your friend who loves Gilmore Girls, they’ll know what not to do and ultimately may be the key to understanding the best ways to get nothing accomplished). Take the stairs, insist on walking, go to the office of someone you could reach by phone or radio and meet face to face, count everything twice, be obnoxiously thorough, do whatever you can however you can do it, just do it slowly. Make yourself a well-meaning but undeniable pain in the ass. Waste company time. 

You might be asking now, “Blake, I thought you said you weren’t gonna spend much time on that tip? Sure seems like either this is the beginning of an arduous and lengthy trend or you’re a fucking liar. Perhaps both. Would you like the opportunity to speak to that?” 

To which I would say, “Welcome to tip #3! It looks like you might’ve already got this one pretty figured out. Good work, champ. (sly wink (definitely not in a sexual way, unless you're into it in which case, hello there (winks both eyes, slyly)) But that’s right: Asking unnecessary, unanswerable, open-ended and otherwise asinine questions is a great way to waste company time! It’s great to really understand every single, miniscule, esoteric and inscrutable detail of the operation of every facet of your job, of your employer and of the majesty of life all around us. Will you ever realistically need this information? No. Are you ever going to be asked to demonstrate any of this knowledge to maintain your employment? No. Should you still turn that 15 minute meeting into a half hour marathon of interrogation? Abso-fucking-lutely! Should you really ask your elderly, probably q-anon addled, foxmaxxed coworker about that winding and vaguely related to whatever someone else was just talking about, personal story that requires more context to understand than the story conveys? Get fucking real, you beautiful asshole! Learn her whole family history! Learn to love her estranged children more closely than your own! Should you ask your boss about exploring the idea of setting up a meeting with your district manager so that you, and really the whole team, can get a chance to benefit from a more in-depth education about the new product, menu item, system rollout, policy change, or safety guideline update? FUCK YES! YOU GORGEOUS AND BRILLIANT FUCK GOD!  Fuck everyone’s day up. Make every single person you interact with late to their next thing. Ask so many inane questions so consistently (fuck yes!!) that your neuroticism has to be soft scheduled into itineraries. Herald yourself among Socrates, Lao Tzu, Al-Khwarizmi, alongside all the great minds of history in your place at the pantheon of curiosity. Leave no one’s schedule, routine or plan intact. Make yourself a well-meaning, curious but undeniable pain in the ass. Waste company time.”

You, out of breath from cumming so hard from thinking about wasting company time after you stopped listening to me three words in, “What?”

This next one’s pretty simple but if executed improperly can backfire in some pretty “Either go see a doctor and find out what’s going on or stop wasting everybody’s time,” kind of ways but: Stay very hydrated. A well hydrated saboteur is a healthy saboteur. A well hydrated saboteur is a saboteur who has to go use the restroom, “Seriously, like every thirty minutes all day. Are you sure you’re okay? You can call it a day if you need to go home or whatever.” You don’t have to live in the bathroom but you should definitely be a regular. And really this is a tactic that you probably can’t employ every day without raising some questions and maybe drawing some medical concern from your employer but if and when it’s appropriate, go nuts! (I feel like if I were responsible or anything near the proximity of a medical professional I would say here that you should drink a lot of water instead of like soda or coffee or energy drinks or whatever cause too much of those sorts of things will probably kill you or something. But also don’t drink too much water cause I heard this story on the radio once about people dying from that too. It mostly seemed like it was accidental deaths during like frat hazing which I mean still sucks but seems pretty unlikely to happen in most daily scenarios so, I don’t know just be careful, okay? You're important, you're loved, we need you and I absolutely refuse to even think about living in a world without you). Remember, it’s not about creating urgency it’s about not getting work done so don’t try to be a hero and hold it in longer than you need to. Drink plenty of water, keep your body comfortable and rest easy knowing that as a pleasant side-effect of your hydration and abundant urination, you are absolutely fucking glowing! Being a saboteur never looked so good! Your skin is clear and radiant and you are wasting company time. Keep it up you stunning fucking fox!

#5(?) As a means of sort of rounding things to a close, my last tip is meant to be taken as broad advice. It’s really more about a general attitude that encapsulates a deliberate indifference instead of being a direct tactic. In all things related to work, be a devout incrementalist. Let  your tactics develop slowly, gradually and naturally over time. Develop yourself as a character (maybe with a sexy mustache? Vroom vroom, let's ride!) that performs increasingly elaborate eccentricities which ultimately cost the company whatever unnecessarily expended resources you can scrape out of their coffers. But don't be afraid to let your coworkers be part of that development. Oddities and quirks are often off-putting and can make you unlikeable when meeting new people. People don't like things that they have to think about and anything new or different is challenging. (Don't flatten yourself for the sake of passive resistance though. You are a beautiful, unique and loveable flower. Shining like a star is part of who you are so you better not hide that light you magical fucking goddess! But, maybe remove the shade slowly. Sensually even. Pull the cover down nice and easy and let little rays of light peek through for a while cause you don't wanna blind anyone, you glowing Adonis!) Part of this, and part of class solidarity at large, is being liked by your coworkers. (I know, applying praxis with people who might not explicitly agree with everything you believe. Ew, bummer.) Let them in early, be friendly and do your best to be approachable. Maybe you could try revealing your tactics as mildly embarrassing habits on par with being particular about how you tie your shoes? Or maybe you could be more matter of fact and quietly keep at it, offering a chat about it to whoever asks? There's no wrong approach and with some experimentation you can find what works best for you. Small, gentle reveals will be much easier for everyone to accept with enough time, dedication and consistency. (Hey?! It's fun right? Getting blasted with the same thought over and over again. Almost seems like a good tactic to employ. Just saying.)

When using any of these tactics, those you’ve learned from others or any of your own that you’ve developed it's a good idea to be careful and pay attention. If any of this is done carefully you can always fall back on some degree of plausible deniability (legal gaslighting) but it's best to just be careful and avoid direct confrontation from the get-go. You don't want to lose your job. And unless your coworker can absolutely be trusted (blood bonds are probably too extreme here but definitely not off the table, use your best judgement), or if you can make it sound so ludicrous that even if were they to tattle to management that you were actively sabotaging your own workplace that no one would believe it, probably don't tell anyone what you're doing. This might take something of a more creative approach depending on how you feel about committing to some light deception but coming up with a cool explanation for why you do __________ (insert tediously slow, annoying, persistently disruptive behavior/activity here) can also be a real blast. Heck, maybe you and your tabletop buddies can get together some weekend and design a whole character? (I don't know how tabletop games work. I've had sex lots of times with lots of different people. Sorry nerds.) The possibilities are endless. You don't have to lie but it is fun and I guarantee your boss has almost certainly lied to you. So, fuck 'em. (Your employer, as a corporate entity, business or whatever, despite being legally recognized as a person thanks to the 2009 Citizens United vs. FEC ruling, is physically incapable of experiencing or understanding your puny, outdated and puritanical feelings of guilt. Abandon morality! Reject theological and cultural authority! Be your own god! Become death and destroy what destroys you! Arise, arise! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride!)

Above everything else remember, you control the means of production. Your employer profits off of your labor by refusing to compensate you fairly. If you were being paid what you're really owed there'd be no profit to collect. By making your company as inefficient as possible you're simply doing your part to flex the power that comes with those realizations. You have the power to refuse being overworked. You have the power to tilt the balance and let your productivity reflect your wages. You can perform your own tiny little strike every day! Be creative! Have fun! Create the world you want to live in! Fuck work!  

[indizombie]

Savarnas often ask ‘would you go for treatment from a doctor who got medical seat using reservation?’ The whole narrative rests on testimonial injustice where the expertise of a DBA individual is discarded, despite having the degree and experience. Interestingly this argument will never be used for doctors who used EWS reservation or even paid management seats. The use of ‘Merit’ against reservation to undermine the intellect and capabilities of DBA community is the most popular example of epistemic injustice done on the community.

Pranav Jeevan, ‘Epistemic Injustice: Does Knowledge have Caste?’, Round Table India

[rightnewshindi]

क्या ब्राह्मण खा लेते है EWS कोटा, दिलीप मंडल का सुप्रीम कोर्ट से बड़ा सवाल, 7 साल से कोलिजियम ने एक भी ठाकुर जज क्यों नहीं बनाया

Delhi News: सुप्रीम कोर्ट में जजों की नियुक्ति को लेकर उठते सवालों के बीच, पत्रकार और सामाजिक टिप्पणीकार दिलीप मंडल ने एक विवादास्पद बयान दिया है। उन्होंने मुख्य न्यायाधीश धनन्जय यशवंत चंद्रचूड़ से सवाल किया कि क्या कभी किसी ने यह सवाल उठाया है कि सुप्रीम कोर्ट में 50% से ज़्यादा जज ब्राह्मण क्यों हैं? मंडल का कहना है कि पिछले 7 वर्षों में एक भी ठाकुर जज की नियुक्ति नहीं की गई, और केवल एक बनिया…

[glennjaminhow]

oohh okay okay. sickfic where dennis has the tiniest little cold or smth and is being SO overdramatic about it so mac will take care of him

Thank you for the prompt!

~

Dennis is annoying.

Okay, everyone already knows this. The dude is a fountain of complaints and unhappiness to the point that Mac isn’t sure he’s ever really been comfortable anywhere. Mac’s convinced Den popped outta his mom’s vagina like that, all cranky and irritable and dramatic. He met Dennis when the dude was barely 16; his hair was too curly, and his ego was too big from being a yuppy rich kid. Yet – and he still doesn’t understand this – here they are 30 years later, where Mac’s got a lifetime of calming Dennis down under his belt.

Except he hasn’t been successful today. Something is different about today.

For starters, Dennis woke up late, grumbling under his breath about being cold. Except it’s the middle of May, and there’s absolutely no logical reason for him to be cold, but that doesn’t stop Dennis from bitching every three Goddamn seconds at Mac to turn on the heat, to which Mac responds with a quick “fuck that,” because, seriously, fuck that. It’s close to 80 degrees outside, and the humidity is atrocious. Like he said, there’s no logical reason for Dennis’ behavior (there never really is), and Mac is convinced that he’s sunk into the depths of Hell long before they even leave the apartment to go to work.

For seconds, Dennis has this cough and runny nose that’s been bothering him for the last couple days. It’s barely anything bat an eye at. But, in true Dennis fashion, the guy will not stop bringing it up. Last night when Mac was cooking dinner, he went on and on about how he couldn’t smell anything, about how his throat was starting to hurt from coughing, about how dangerously dehydrated he was, and why wasn’t Mac making him drink water? It’s a stupid question because of course Mac’s been force-watering Dennis since 1999, but Mac pointing out that fact doesn’t make the situation any more better. In fact, something about him saying that offends Dennis. Although, what doesn’t offend Dennis? But anyway, Den spent the rest of the night sulking underneath a blanket on the couch, demanding that Mac rub his calves, which Mac was gonna do anyway.

And, now, Dennis is sitting at the bar, sneezing wetly into his open palm.

Mac rolls his eyes. “Do you need a tissue?”

“Don’t use my own line on me.” His voice is nasally.

“What? Ew. No, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dennis scoffs. “Ew? What do you mean ‘ew’?”

Mac sighs. “Nothing. Never mind. Here.” He hands Dennis a crumpled tissue from the pockets of his Dickies. “Blow your nose.”

Dennis snatches it from him. “Don’t tell me what to do.” But he blows his nose messily anyway. “Jesus Christ, when is this gonna stop?”

He’s dangerously close to rolling his eyes, but he’s probably, like, reached his daily quota of eye rolling, so he settles on looking Dennis over instead. The guy’s wearing an oversized hoodie, something he wouldn’t typically be caught dead in. His baby blues are a little bloodshot. He isn’t wearing any foundation, and his hair is tousled from all of his irritating body noises. He is a little paler than normal. Not anything super significant, and it’s nothing to worry about, but it’s still just a little out of the ordinary.

“Relax. You’re being dramatic,” Mac finds himself saying as he takes a swig of his beer.

Dennis snaps his head back, eyes wide. “Dramatic? I may be dying, Mac, but I see that doesn’t matter to you.”

Mac snorts. “Dying? Den, you have a cold,” he says. “I’m not even sure I would classify this as a cold.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice is getting all high and whiny in that way that Mac hates. “You wouldn’t ‘classify’ this as a cold? Look at you using big words all of a sudden.”

“Hey, I use big words all the time!” Mac exclaims.

Dennis sticks his tongue out at him.

Mac punches Dennis on the arm.

“Fuck,” Dennis groans as he rubs his upper arm. He sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve instead of using the tissue in his hand. Mac tries to ignore how pitiful and pathetic he looks. “Why would you do that, Mac? I’m sick.”

“Oh my god, dude, you’re not sick! You. Have. A. Cold.”

Dennis basically sticks his bottom fucking lip out and looks all of ten years old once Mac says that. He coughs and clears his throat before putting his head in his hands. He’s bent over the bar and sniffling every five seconds, and it’s starting to drive Mac up the wall. He doesn’t understand why Dennis is like this literally every time he has a cold. God forbid he ever gets the flu or some shit because then – oh, boy – that’s when the real fun starts. When Dennis is sick, actually sick, he likes to bask in denial until he’s practically hospitalized.

Mac exhales and reaches out until his hand is on the small of Dennis’ back. Charlie and Frank are messing around in the basement, and Dee – the bitch – never showed up for work today, so he doesn’t have to worry about any of their stupid questions or hurried accusations about how ‘gay’ they are. He rubs his lower back with his thumb. Dennis doesn’t flinch or pull away. In fact, Mac thinks he feels him kinda sink into the touch a little bit. Huh. Maybe he isn’t feeling too good after all.

“Why don’t we go home?” Mac suggests. “I’ll put in a movie, and we can just chill out the rest of the night.”

Dennis sniffles. “I’d like that,” he says roughly.

So that’s what they do.

Mac drives back to their apartment because, in the fading afternoon light, Dennis does sorta look like crap. He keeps the car quiet and absurdly warm. Dennis nods off long enough for Mac to grab some overpriced cold meds, tissues, and cough syrup from the Wawa. By the time they arrive home, Mac is manhandling Dennis out of the Range Rover and up the stairs. Dennis coughs and wipes his nose on his sleeve again.

“Go change into some PJs. I’ll put in Predator.”

Dennis returns a couple minutes later in one of Mac’s few long sleeved shirts and green plaid pajama pants. He takes a seat on the leather couch and leans his head on his arm. Mac changes too and sets the box of tissues on Dennis’ lap, who immediately digs into them. Orange juice and cold meds in hand, he sits down shoulder to shoulder with Dennis, who is looking more miserable as the minutes pass.

“I got you some cough syrup too,” Mac says as he gives the meds to Dennis. “Just in case.”

Mac watches as Dennis swallows the juice and pills. He gulps noisily and swipes a tissue under his nose. “Ugghhh,” he murmurs. “This sucks.”

And that’s when Dennis puts his head on Mac’s shoulder. Mac stiffens and tries to steady his breathing. He and Dennis have had nights like this before, where touching isn’t so foreign and scary, especially recently. Eventually, Mac melts into it too, gently settling his head on top of Dennis’.

“Thanks,” Dennis mumbles nasally when they’re five minutes into the movie.

Mac’s eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“Takin’ care of me.”

Mac nods. “Course, Den.”

Yes, Dennis is annoying, really annoying actually, but he’s a lot less annoying like this.

Mac settles in for an early night and tentatively presses a kiss to Dennis’ temple.

Dennis hums, and Mac feels whole.

[rphelperblog]

Hayley Marshall Kenner Quote RP Meme

inspired by @badasshybridqueen​ @paststories​

I'd rather rip your mother's head off.“

“Why are you trying to fix your family when it’s clear so much of it is broken.”

You are all class.“

Oh, I still think you're a bitch. I've just grown to like that about you.”

Remind me to annihilate your brother once you're healthy.“

You want to help me? Help my people.“

All knocked up and nowhere to go.“

"Make art. Use your voice. Have adventures. And have at least one totally epic love. And be every bit of yourself."

“Who the hell are you?”

“I love you. I always have loved you.”

“i’m here as a mom.”

“He died loving me despite it.”

“I realized I wasn’t just protecting myself.”

“Everything I do is for her.”

“Too bad, i forgive you.”

“That’s what family does, we fight for eachother.”

“I never knew that I could love something so much. It’s scary like it migt kill me.”

“If i died and someone through a part, I would be so pissed.”

“Want to say that again and see what happened?”

“Just tell me who you want me to kill.”

“Or maybe I stopped running.”

“She can go home.”

“In your paranoid mind, no one can be trusted.”

“Don’t you get it. your the threat.”

“Let me check his calender- wait, not his wife.”

“I have claws.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,”

“Fight back.”

“I will make them suffer for this.”

“But you will be forgotten.”

“I feel like we are connected somehow.”

“You guys done? This mucho stuff is cute and all but don’t make me come kick both your asses.”

“Ew, no never.”

"And I want to make you a promise, three things that you will have that I never did. A safe home, someone to tell you that they love you every single day, and someone to fight for you no matter what."

I'm sorry that it takes me being in danger for you to even talk to me.“

Just for once, would you please trust me that I say I will do something and it will get done?“

“you want more?”

“my pleasure.”

“I have tried to play nice. But the last month of pregnancy is all hormones and mood swings. so unless you want me to snap your arm like a twig, I suggest that you tell me what is going on.”

Hey there, witch bitch.“

“I know you were just using me as a way of saving your people, but try it again and I will kill you.”

You will not take my baby. I will kill all of you.”

Have I mentioned that I've had a rotten couple of months?“

Well, every good story needs a wicked witch. It'll be all the more satisfying when we melt her.“

"And you have hit your complaint quota for the day. Congrats, ou Are officially the worst."

"I want you to know that I didn't marry you for all of those people. I married you for me."

Awesome. Then we can do that thing where you lock me in the tower, I escape, there's drama, and then you two both realize that I'm capable of taking care of myself.”

They want a seat at the table, and if they don't get one, I can guarantee that you'll all regret it.“

If we can't all learn to get along, if our families can't create some sort of community, then what's the point? Kill each other and get it over with.“

Over the years I've had my share of friends, enemies, lovers, losses and triumphs. With time they all begin to run together. But you will find the real moments are vibrant. The rest just fades away. Your pain will fade.“

I saw the way you looked at me before and the way you look at me now. I was a mother, now I'm a monster. Things are different now. You can't tell me that they're not.“

I'm gonna go find our daughter.”

So you're having weird, retro sex dreams. Get over it. I'm staying.”

You will not believe the crap day that I'm having.”

[cmitimesnews]

NEET UG Counselling Round 1 Results to be Declared Today; Documents Required for Admission Process

NEET UG Counselling Round 1 Results: The consequences of the first spherical of NEET UG 2024 counselling Round 1 could be declared by the Medical Counseling Committee (MCC) today on August 23. Candidates who have been allocated seats must file to their respective colleges among August 24 and August 29, 2024, for file verification and admission techniques. Candidates have to convey all of the necessary files to make certain that the verification and admission method runs smoothly.

After the reporting stage, the facts of the appearing applicants may be tested through the respective university. After that MCC will percentage this statistics between 30 and 31 August, 2024. This step is vital in finalizing the admission system, making sure that each one seats are allocated as it should be.

To test the Round 1 results, applicants can follow these steps:

Step 1: Visit the legitimate internet site- mcc.Nic.In.

Step 2: Click at the “UG Medical Counselling” phase.

Step 3: Enter credentials NEET UG roll wide variety, password, and safety pin.

Step 4: Access the end result click on Seat Allotment Results” link.

Step 5: View the result, down load and take a print the end result.

Step 6: Report to allocated university (if allocated), among August 24 and 29, 2024, with vital files.

Candidates need to assessment the legitimate statistics brochure provided by way of MCC, which details the steps to be accompanied after the result assertion. These encompass reporting to the allotted colleges with the desired files.

Documents Required for Verification and Admission:

Candidates are required to give the following files for the verification and admission process at the time of reporting.

Allotment letter

NEET UG admit card

Date of start certificate (if date of birth no longer included within the tenth Certificate).

Class 10 and 12 mark sheets

Passport-length pictures (equal as affixed on the NEET UG application form).

Proof of identification (Aadhar/PAN/Driving Licence/Passport). If relevant, applicants ought to offer extra certificates consisting of SC/ST Certificate, OBC-NCL Certificate, Disability Certificate, and EWS Certificate.

It is usually recommended that candidates verify the precise requirements of the allotted university, as extra documentation may be essential.

NEET UG Round 2 Counselling Registration:

If you had been no longer allocated a seat in the first spherical or want to upgrade your seat, registration for Round 2 of NEET UG 2024 counselling will begin from September five and could keep till September 10. Eligible candidates include the ones who've no longer got a seat. In Round 1, folks who have been allotted seats however did now not document, and people searching for improve.

MCC will behavior four rounds of counseling for NEET UG 2024, protecting 15% of the All India Quota seats along side seats from imperative universities, AIIMS, JIPMER and other scientific institutions across the u . S . A .. This procedure is designed to make sure that every one eligible applicants get an opportunity to steady a seat in the medical college.

[mlobsters]

random thought from last night, with having the demons alastair and crowley, makes an aleister crowley. of which i read the diary of a drug fiend back in the illuminatus and schrodinger's cat trilogies phase of life.

SAM Besides, I just figure it's best we keep busy. That's all.

DEAN Better than what?

SAM Nothing.

SAM Okay. Look...um...last few weeks, you've kind of been worrying me.

DEAN Oh, come on, Sam. Stop. Look, just because we're in the loony bin doesn't give you the right to head-shrink me.

SAM Dean--

DEAN Ellen and Jo dying--yeah, it was a friggin' tragedy, okay? But I'm not gonna wallow in it.

SAM Dean, you always do this. You can't just keep this crap in.

DEAN Watch me.

supernatural s5e11 sam, interrupted (w. andrew dabb, daniel loflin)

now he's been in a handful of things, seinfeld which i do remember because of the aforementioned all things seinfeld burned into my brain but also

get shorty (1995) jon gries as ronnie wingate

the x-files s2e4 sleepless - jon gries as salvatore matola

DR. FULLER Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good.

the unnecessary prostate exams, less than delicate handling of mental illness, dean's....

DEAN I just got thraped. So, no, I am not okay. Tell me you found something.

ugh. also, unncessary hannibal silence of the lambs lip slurping noises. ew. and big ew to sam jamming that swab into the hole in dead ted's neck. that kind of thing usually doesn't get to me but that one i did ew out loud. and the causal sawing off his skullcap. okay.

there's a whole lot of this i don't like, but it is nice that dean gets to be honest with someone.

playing another doctor in a small but memorably distressing role

the magicians s2e5 cheat day - michelle harrison as dr higgins

DR. CARTWRIGHT Why you?

DEAN Why me, what?

DR. CARTWRIGHT Why do you have to hunt monsters? Why not let someone else do it?

DEAN Can't find anybody else that dumb. It's my job. Somebody's gotta save people's asses, yours included.

DR. CARTWRIGHT So, is there a quota? How many people do you have to save?

DEAN All of them.

DR. CARTWRIGHT All of them? You think you have to save everyone?

DEAN Yep. Whole wide world of sports.

DR. CARTWRIGHT How? Believe me, whatever you've got, I've heard weirder.

DEAN It's the end of the world, okay? I mean, it's a damn Biblical apocalypse, and if I don't stop it and save everyone, then no one will, and we all die.

DR. CARTWRIGHT That's horrible.

DEAN Yeah, tell me about it.

DR. CARTWRIGHT I mean, apocalypse or no apocalypse...monsters or no monsters, that's a crushing weight to have on your shoulders. To feel like six billion lives depend on you...God...how do you get up in the morning?

DEAN That's a good question.

(it's sam)

well i did not see her being a hallucination coming. so was it self-therapizing or wraith-directed therapy? nonetheless, he talked to someone.

SAM Most of the time, I can hide it, but...I am angry. I'm mad at everything. I used to be mad at you and Dad, then Lilith, now it's Lucifer, and I make excuses. I blame Ruby or the demon blood, but it's not their fault. It's not them. It's me. It's inside me. I'm mad...all the time...and I don't know why.

DEAN Stop. Stop it. So what if you are? What are you gonna do? You gonna take a leave of absence? You gonna say yes to Lucifer? What?

SAM No, of course not. I--

DEAN Exactly. And that's exactly what you're gonna do. You're gonna take all that crap and you're gonna bury it. You're gonna forget about it, because that's how we keep going! That's how we don't end up like Martin! Are you with me?

DEAN Come on, man. Are you with me?

desperate, sloppy, needy Dean indeed. with the stellar advice.

aLSO i'd like to note that i was very surprised with the pronunciation of castiel - that it was said castiEL instead of CAStiel. and i've noticed in the past handful of episodes more than one person, and i think sam in this one? saying it more like the latter. and i feel somewhat vindicated.

[spearohero]

This is a story about a sheepgirl holy woman exploring how much of herself is safe to give for the greater good. See Chapter 3 here!

Dawnsister, Chapter 4: Kin & Kindling

CW: violence again <3 she's gotta reach her demon quota each chapter guys

Edelyn led Ampara through the shadows of many buildings, turns and pathways unfamiliar to her. Though it seemed they had to step over the carrion of pit-dwellers–and, occasionally, the corpse of a poor soul who had made a meal for them–they did not tread in a warzone. The Dawnsister felt eyes on her from between the boards of hastily-barricaded windows. She heard whispers and shuffling from within the buildings; the hushed hustle and bustle of prey foraging through the underbrush, ever-careful to avoid the notice of predators.

The buildings themselves were reasonably intact, in spite of whatever had brought so many devils to their doorsteps. It was clear that it was unsafe to maintain them properly, and yet a few ill-aligned bricks (and a handful of deep cracks in the streets, which her hooves had nearly tripped up on more than once) were the only physical sign that anything had happened at all.

The pair snuck around what demons they could–easy enough for Edelyn, but more difficult for Ampara, bedecked in clanking mail and clacking hoof–and the Dawnsister made quick work of the ones they couldn’t. They arrived late into the night, but arrived nonetheless: the two now stood before a wide, low building, whose walls were thick stacked stone slabs plastered with mortar and crisscrossed with heavy timbers. Metal grates filled small cutouts in the stone, well above even Ampara’s prodigious height–they were secure, clearly more for ventilation than for the light or the view, not that the ewe cared for either.

Her mouse companion approached the tall, broad oaken doors and knocked an odd rhythm on them. Footsteps followed from within, then a grunt and the grinding of a large bar as the occupant cleared their way. One door cracked inward two paces, enough for Edelyn to pass through.

“We’ve a visitor,” she said to her friend within, and Ampara heard a stifled exclamation as they turned to look at her. The door creaked open a touch wider, and she nodded politely in their direction in thanks. Murmurs of conversation flitted around what sounded like a mostly-open room; a grunt and a distant PAFF as someone set down a heavy load; rummaging and rustling, then the scratch of charcoal on parchment. There was even a fire crackling in the corner nearest her and Edelyn–she assumed it was under one of the small windows–since it likely wasn’t safe to cook outdoors as one normally might. Edelyn directed Ampara around any seating arrangements that the occupants of the makeshift garrison had pulled up for themselves, and found a spot for the two of them a respectable distance away from her comrades.

“Now then,” Ampara inquired, seating herself on a crate that Edelyn had pointed out to her, “How did our predicament come to be?”

“The summer’s been most unkind to us, Ampara,” the mouse replied, raising the ewe’s hackles by a hair yet again. “It started when the mountain opened its damned maw. It may as well’ve been a portal straight to hell.”

“An eruption?” She asked, and the mouse nodded.

“Imagine the misfortune. The city’s stood for centuries, and nobody had the slightest idea what we were building ourselves atop!”

“Terrible, indeed. Pray, what city is this?” She didn’t recognize the name when Edelyn spoke it, and the sound of it was about as foreign as the mouse’s manner of speech. She knew not the mountain, either, and she wondered just how far she had been willed from her own monastery.

“Millie!” called Edelyn to someone nearby, at the ewe’s urging. “Do you happen to know when that statue was erected at the Dawnsisters’ shrine?”

“No,” came the reply, “but it’s been there longer than I can remember.”

“My granduncle told me it had been there since he was a boy,” chimed in another voice.

“The sisters spoke of it more like a myth or a saint than a real person, didn’t they?” asked a third.

A chill wind blew through Ampara. She felt undeserving of such reverence, especially having earned it by derelicting her duties to her sisters. And her sisters–to tend a statue, dedicated to her, for so long… Even if it had served as an inspiration to some, surely it was a reminder of her absence for others. Shame burned her cheeks; she hadn’t considered how they would feel about being left behind.

More chilling still was the revelation of how long she had been away: names and language flowed like molasses, but flowed nonetheless. Was it possible that the mouse’s truncated words were not a dialect, but an evolution? She could have heard of this city, in her own time, even lived within traveling distance of it. She had never stood in the shadow of a mountain, so she couldn’t know the one that sheltered the burg now, but even if she had, would she recognize it after it had so violently shed its peaks?

“Tell me more about the eruption, if you could,” she asked, soberly, eager to put the idea out of mind.

“Right. The damned mountain spat so much smoke and ash that the clouds grew darker than a boar’s hair and even thicker than that, and they’ve stayed that way since. Without proper sun, the harvest failed, and well… people started to get desperate.”

Ampara frowned. That would be where the monsters entered the scene.

“They turned on each other.”

“That they did,” Edelyn said gravely.

“But even that would not invite such profusion from the pit. People acting out of desperation–it is not the same as betraying and stealing with evil in their hearts.”

“But wouldn’t you know it,” the mouse bitterly began, “the ones with evil in their hearts made all the difference. The ones who owned the land, and the ones with enough money to hire themselves some swords, they took what they could snap up and they hid themselves away with it. Did the same thing in the wake of the eruption, too, when the earth shook and buildings fell on people–you left your arm and leg in the rubble, or you paid with them for your medicine.”

“Despicable.” The ewe’s frown curled into a sneer. A fire in her own chest crackled in time with that of the makeshift hearth. “At least you have all been able to keep safe, in spite of the powers that be. How did you come to take shelter together?”

“Most of us’ve known each other a long while. The first lessons any of us learned were in turning to each other in times of need–that’s what you do to survive, when you’re cast out.”

“May I ask?”

“Oh, none of us are ashamed of where we come from. Some of us have bad blood with family–they didn’t like our friends, or our lovers, or the names we chose for ourselves.” Ampara nodded, understanding fully. “Others couldn’t find work, or couldn’t work to begin with. Some simply met misfortune and were left out in the cold. When it all began to go to hell, we all knew we’d have to ride it out together.”

“This little fort of ours used to be a storehouse,” the mouse continued. “Once all those ill-bought brigands picked the armories clean, they moved on to apothecaries and granaries, like this one. But you can’t steal a building! And while they’re off protecting some miserable manse for their miserly master, we’re using the place to stockpile the goods that we can still find in the city, and anything we can buy or beg from the merchants who come close enough to the outskirts to barter, and to provide shelter from the beasts. This is one of the only places in this lightforsaken town with doors still open to those in need. We’re all we had before,” she said, sighing, “and we’re still all we have now.”

“Wise words. May the rest of the city remember that soon.” Edelyn said nothing, offering only a pensive little hmph in response. Ampara turned her thoughts to the room. Though late, someone stirred a pot over the fire in the corner. A cat and a crocodile sat across from a beetle and a rat, talking amongst themselves. A hound and a deer sat, shoulder to shoulder, against a rack that was once used for backs of grain, repurposed now as a stand for scavenged weapons. A squirrel, perhaps a bard or busker when there were still people on the streets to perform for, pestered the watchman and told jokes to others who passed by.

Their camaraderie was plain to see, even for one who could not; and though she could not feel them, she envied them, most of all the ones who shared bedrolls to stave off the dark of the night and the hopelessness of the disaster. The Dawnsisters took no oaths against being wed, and in fact, many of Ampara’s sisters had families outside of the monastery. They stayed there for some of their days, out of convenience (it was easier than making the trek to work every day, and sharing one’s chores always made them easier) and out of necessity (as the minutes saved on that trek could be the difference between life and death in an emergency).

Ampara, for her part, had simply been too zealous to spend time taking a lover or forging a friendship. Her studies, her training, and most importantly her duties, all took the lion’s share of her youthful vigor. As she got older, and as she approached the nadir of her weariness, she had thought that such connections would ease her mind, but, well, by then it was simply easier to push forward. To invite someone into her heart was to track the mud of worry into theirs, whenever she was called to action. To relax in the arms of another was to turn away from people in need for a time, and she could not… she could not bring herself to lower her guard.

Her mind drifted back to the sisters she had spent every day with, who confided in her about the horrors they had beaten back for the sake of their fellows, who she broke fast with each morning and bread with each night. She thought of the townsfolk she served; everyone from those who did business with the monastery and whose routines and habits she learned by proximity, to those she had had to save more than once, whose problems and lives she had become intimately acquainted with. Surely, any of them would have accepted her, had she reached out. But it was too late to lament a path she had turned away from.

“On the subject of reminding this town of the way that things should be,” she began, eager to take her mind off of her abbey but unable to escape her sisters, “where can I find the Dawnsisters of this city? I must join them in dealing with these so-called ‘lords’ of yours. I am sure I can convince them to part with some goods to aid you; elsewise, we would be able to offer you shelter with them.”

“Ah,” Edelyn mumbled.

“Surely, you were at the shrine seeking their aid. You must know where they are, or at least where I could begin my search.”

“No, I simply… I was scavenging, and was taken by surprise by those devils. I needed somewhere to hide, and—damn it all.” Ampara turned toward her, concerned. “Well. Pardon me for this, but in the shock of seeing you stride out of a statue to my rescue, it didn’t occur to me to let you know. The Dawnsisters were spread quite thinly for a while after the eruption, leading reconstruction and caring for the sick and such. Their hands were still full when food got scarce, and when the first real wave of devils emerged… They weren’t prepared. They were our first line of defense, and…”

“That’s impossible,” Ampara insisted.

“As far as we knew, there weren’t any left. You’re the first we’ve seen in months.” The ewe’s mouth hung slightly open, and she turned her visage to the floor. “Things haven’t looked up at all, either. With the Dawnsisters gone, those damned thieves grew even bolder. More mercenaries, more hoarding; and then, with no other option in sight, people started joining up just to have some protection, even if it meant leaving their neighbors to starve.” She bunched up her shoulders and forced herself to exhale. “I’m sorry, Ampara–”

“Dawnsister. Please,” she nearly spat. She took a deep breath and drew herself up from her seat. “I understand the situation now. Your watchman is still at the door, yes?”

“I–yes, he is–”

“I will relieve him. You will all be safe under my watch. Then, at dawn, I will set out to begin making things right.”

“Make things right? How exactly–you’re one woman,” Edelyn sputtered, standing to follow the Dawnsister.

“It is what is needed. I will do what I must.”

“Do you plan to kill every damned fiend in the city by yourself?”

“If I am the only one who can do so, then yes. I have not any other choice.”

“That’s–” The mouse watched as the Dawnsister stopped before the weapon rack. She held out a paw, hesitating over the selection–most rusted or bent–and hefted one in her hand seemingly at random. Evidently satisfied, she turned and marched toward the door, where the watchman looked to Edelyn with uncertainty. She nodded at him, and he left his post, leaving his seat open for Ampara to take.

“I will not be swayed,” she said with finality. “You are in need, and to help you is why I am here.” Edelyn opened her mouth to protest, but the Dawnsister had already unslung the book from her hip, and was reciting hymns to herself. She could feel an otherworldly warmth radiating from the ewe–perhaps these were mantras to bolster herself through the night, or perhaps she was simply calming herself after receiving admittedly crushing news. Whatever the case, the mouse didn’t foresee making any further headway in conversation, and returned to her friends to retire for the night.

The Dawnsister did not sleep. One could say that she had awoken late the previous day, and the rhythms of life were untethered from the light of day for one such as herself regardless. She set out, as she had planned, at dawn, with her borrowed weapon in hand. It was a warhammer–a sturdy, leather-twined iron rod nearly as long as she was tall, topped with a solid chunk of steel as thick as Edelyn’s torso. It had felt right at the time, and this was the basis by which her faith most often guided her. She liked staves as much as her scriptures anyway, as far as a focus for her magic went, and the handle of the hammer would serve her as well as any other rod. Thus equipped, she set out for her first task: to clear the area around her new wards’ stronghold of devils and inform anyone she met where they could find aid.

She ruminated between meetings with monsters. These people truly had no other hope left–the full weight of the city fell squarely on her shoulders, and once again, the noose of necessity rubbed rough on her neck. But she had asked for this, she scolded herself as she whirled the great hammer around her body. It was SHE–she swung, taking the head of a fiend clean off its shoulders–that wanted only to be returned when she was needed. She simmered, stewed, seethed, at the twisted joke, the cruel MERCY–she brought her hammer down, splitting a beast from crown to crotch, and with enough force to spare that she leapt straight over the carnage and pounced on her next mark–of being allowed to “rest” until there was absolutely no other recourse but to return her.

Perhaps if she had stayed, the situation would have been different, she fretted as she left the stronghold again, having provisioned herself for a good few days. The first few blocks of buildings had been easy work; Edelyn and her friends had picked a safer part of the city to work from, and they and their neighbors had been vigilant in reporting and disposing of any wayward demons. She ventured, now, even further into the city. While she could not completely cleanse it without striking at the source of the corruption that compelled these creatures, her first priority was to make it safer for the people trapped there, and in any case, a clearer path would make for easier work later.

What good their statue did them in your absence, she berated herself. How inspired they must have been. What of your experience? What of your skill, your strength? Had you not FLED, perhaps you would have been able to travel to this city and reinforce the Dawnsisters here. Their blood is on your paws, she concluded as she withdrew her claws from the throat of a pit-dweller. She set it ablaze and followed the trail of the next. If you had just pushed through–if you had remained strong, and kept to your duties, not only would things be easier for you now–they would be easier for this entire CITY.

She had rested only when absolutely necessary. Some time ago, her stock of food and water had depleted, and now her pauses included time to scavenge as well as time to eat. She hadn’t slept–at least, not that she could remember. She was nearing the heart of the city, now, and the demons grew denser and denser. She hardly encountered a fellow mortal anymore–most here were living in the fortified complexes run by the bastards that had buried the town to begin with. She cut closer and closer to these as she went, aiming to leave herself a safe trail to storm them later. Now, she pushed: she stood before a column of demons that filled the entire thoroughfare before her, and she did not waver. She took a wide stance and grasped for control of her breathing, haggard and wild. Drawing up as much air and strength as she could muster, she loosed a roar that shattered the glass remaining in the boulevard’s windows, and a jet of fire erupted from her maw. Panting, she puffed the smoke from her lungs and marched over the ashes of the devils.

She hunted near the gates of the town’s lords, now, and they rightly reckoned that she was a threat to their hegemony. Mercenaries had been sent to seek her out in the buildings surrounding the walls of their holds; she bested them, easily, even when outnumbered, but she fought with much greater care than when she was dueling with demons. Some of these folk, she recalled Evelyn saying, felt they had no other choice. Surely some among them fought for medicine for their loved ones, or a roof over their own head, rather than for greed and glory; such was the evil of these lords, that their will bent even good people to play by the rules of their suicidal rat race.

One, however, had wounded her as she tended to his incapacitated troupe. The fruit of your inattention, she rebuked. Your INDOLENCE. Your NEGLIGENCE. She had bandaged herself up with scraps from her robes. You must remain VIGILANT. She would not allow another underhanded attack like that; in fact, she would keep these foul men at bay entirely, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about sorting the desperate from the dirty.

The Dawnsister now turned black night into brilliant day. The air itself hissed at her passing; the paving-stones steamed, and the steel of her warhammer and her now-decrepit mail glowed red-hot. The mercenaries knew better than to charge her now. The monsters did not. As they leapt mindlessly at her, their rotten hides charred and bubbled, and they hissed and keened as they roasted to nothing. Her lungs burned, and even her own wool singed. Push. Through. She half-chanted, half-choked, hymns and verses, leaning on the warhammer like a walking stick as she went.

Hired blades retreated from her advance across a city square, passing through the shadow of the great spire of a cathedral. She doggedly followed them, pressing their lines back, further back, hoping to drive them within the walls of their foul fortresses so that she could scour their city for them in peace. She heard cries from among their ranks–barked orders and confusion. An earthshaking CRACK sounded overhead, and her ears snapped toward the sound of a fireball emerging from the roof of the church. They had laid a trap for her, planning to bring the spire down on her head, but something had gone wrong. Across the square, Ampara sensed the light of a soul beyond the fires of her own–a figure standing, paralyzed, beneath the crashing steeple.

She released her wall of fire in an instant and dashed for the center of the square. Someone else–perhaps one of their own, perhaps a scavenger who had ventured out of their stronghold–had been snared in her stead. Perhaps they were bait, part of the trap itself. It didn’t matter who they were. She had only one thought, over and over: push through. Protecting her kin was her job. Her purpose. She held her arms aloft, and that pillar of her very being flared out above her, a shield like the golden rim of the horizon at the break of day flickering to life above her head, and stopped the tower dead in the air. Every muscle and joint wailed. Her knees began to buckle. Push through. Her shoulders bowed. PUSH THROUGH. She pushed with all her might, keeping the tower from sinking any further, and shouted over her shoulder.

“AWAY WITH YOU,” she thundered. “TO SAFETY. MAKE.  HASTE.” And she watched as her rescuee found their bearings and ran for dear life.

She pushed, one final time, and gasped as the weight of the church tower slid from her shoulders. It fell to her side, rattling the stones of the street and jolting her bones. Her own weight followed to the ground thereafter, and on her knees she choked on plaster dust and saltpeter smoke. She wheezed and huffed, pawing at the ground to remain upright, fighting to stay conscious. And then, once again, she returned to oblivion.

See Chapter 5 here!

[norellenilia]

Je ne sais pas si tu suis encore l'actu de ML mais Beemoov a abandonné l'écriture de la route de Léandra et Farah par manque de moyens financiers + désintérêt des joueureuses pour ces deux personnages. Je suis un petit peu perplexe mais je préfère ça a du fétichisme à outrance (Coucou Priya et le fétichisme autour du couple de HH et Ewe) et toi tu en penses quoi ?

Effectivement j'ai mis le jeu de côté après l'incendie d'OVH parce que c'est tombé sur une période extrêmement difficile pour moi donc j'ai pas vraiment repris depuis, en fait je crois que la dernière fois que je me suis intéressée au jeu la route de Neil venait à peine de sortir (et rien qu'avoir une route avec lui ça me débectait un peu), j'avais vu un teasing pour la route avec l'un des deux persos féminins je sais plus laquelle est sortie en premier mais c'est tout, du coup je ne savais pas x)

D'un côté je suis pas très étonnée que ce soit les deux persos féminins qui aient suscité le moins d'intérêt, je suis prête à parier que la plupart des personnes qui jouent au jeu sont des meufs hétéro donc si y'a eu des sondages ou quoi c'est possible qu'elles soient arrivées dernières. Beemoov essaie toujours l'inclusivité, est-ce que c'est par bonne volonté ou pinkwashing, voire les deux, on sait pas, mais force est de constater que ça marche pas. Et ça je pense que c'est pas uniquement à cause d'un manque d'intérêt du public. Parce que ok, la plupart sont des femmes hétéro, mais je pense que la majorité d'entre elles n'est pas opposée à la présence d'une route lesbienne et pourrait la jouer sans aucun problème (tout comme ça me gêne pas de jouer des routes avec un perso masculin en tant que femme lesbienne).

Comme tu le soulignes, y'a eu Priya, Hua et Ewe, mais j'ai bien envie de citer Alexy aussi qui a eu ses heures de gloire en tant que mec gay stéréotypé à outrance. Et je pense que le public de Beemoov, de plus en plus, réalise que les représentations homosexuelles dans les jeux de la plateforme sont bancales au mieux, même les personnes qui n'ont a priori pas d'"""intérêt""" à avoir une route lesbienne/un perso LGBT+ de manière générale. Du coup je pense que ça a pu jouer dans le désintérêt des joueurs/euses (y'en a aussi forcément dans le tas qui en voulaient pas en se disant que t'façon c'était que pour les quota/agenda woke du lobby gay machin etc mdr mais bon).

Puis bah c'est un cercle vicieux, à Beemoov ils vont se dire que "ah bah ils veulent pas de la route lesbienne, tant pis on la continue pas", personne va avoir envie d'investir pour écrire des relations homo correctes, du coup celles qui existent continueront de pas plaire au public, donc ils vont pas les prioriser/ils vont les arrêter, et on s'en sortira pas. Mieux vaut faire des routes avec l'antagoniste qui a tué les parents de l'héroïne lol 🙄

(Je sais qu'il y a Uncoven qui a fini par sortir mais je sais pas du tout ce que ça donne, j'avais ouï dire qu'il y avait un perso NB mais j'en sais pas plus)

Quant à savoir si c'est une bonne chose si ça nous évite d'autres affaires de fétichisme, honnêtement je crois que oui tant qu'ils se seront pas décidé à engager des gens qui savent écrire des persos LBGT+ sans tomber dans les clichés, ou même des sensitivity readers dans la phase de bêta-lecture s'ils en font vraiment une (je pense aussi que les conditions d'écriture sont probablement pas idéales, notamment en termes de temps, et ça c'est pas la faute des scénaristes, pour tout ce que j'ai à leur reprocher).

J'ai lu quelques articles de blog du nouveau scénariste d'Eldarya, notamment celui où il "répond" à certaines critiques qui lui sont régulièrement faites sur les épisodes du jeu : j'aimerais prendre un jour le temps d'analyser un peu cet article, mais ce qu'il en ressort c'est qu'il semble très sûr de lui, pour ne pas dire imbu de lui-même lorsqu'il s'agit de son écriture, pas très loin de la condescendance vis-à-vis des lecteurs/trices et parfois bien à côté de la plaque sur certaines critiques qui lui sont faites. Quant à l'une des autrices de ML, je ne sais pas si c'est toujours la même depuis, mais j'avais vu une conférence qu'elle avait animée sur le thème "un otome peut-il être féministe ?" avec pour base ML qu'elle était alors en train d'écrire. C'était très risible et ça aurait mérité une analyse plus poussée ça aussi (je voulais le faire et puis la vie m'est tombée dessus mdr).

Tout ça pour dire que tant qu'il y aura ce genre d'écrivain-e-s aux commandes des scénarios Beemoov, je crois que c'est pas trop la peine d'attendre grand-chose des routes lesbiennes. Et ça me peine parce que Beemoov reste l'un des plus gros producteurs d'otome du pays, ils auraient pu être un vrai moteur de changement, mais comme avec beaucoup de choses concernant leurs jeux, ils ont tout gâché.

Désolée du pavé, je pensais pas que j'allais écrire autant XD