#get to do something i’m interested in? hell on earth i tell you my autism has not been vining well for the past 6 months

[d0d0-b0i]

*remembers that i still love fnaf, despite it being a hot mess* uh oh

[lord-of-christmas-lights]

I could post regular Narnia headcanons...

Or I could post the continuation of this post and go into depth about how Eustace and Caspian are affected by deity Narnia. Welcome back to Inhuman Narnia 101 and it turned out just as long as the first one so buckle up.

Check out this post by @dorianviolet for another awesome version of Inhuman AU Caspian

Warnings for slight body horror mentions including blood magic stuff, slight religious themes and theological discussion towards the end.

Before anything: This AU directly contradicts canon a lot. I don't care, that's why it's called an AU. Some of it is deliberate, some of it is accidental. I haven't read the books in a number of years, so this is all based on the movies and general information I've picked up from fanfic and tumblr. Discussion on this post is welcomed, criticism and arguments are not. Thank you.

First off, here is the link to an exploration of Dragoning, the Eustace-centric fic I wrote about this. I refer to it repeatedly in this post so if you want the full thing, there it is.

Second, let's get into this. So in my last post, I talked a lot about Narnia, her general existence in this AU, and her motivations as a character. She wants the people in her world to be a part of her, and no one else. Some of this is a conscious choice, and some of it isn't. Eustace's changes throughout his time in VOTDT are definitely not purposeful. It was his greed that drove him to the treasure, it was his own "curse" in becoming a dragon. That was not Narnia reaching out to him and purposefully trying to mold him to her world. As such, he takes on more of an observing role.

Eustace doesn't ever actually directly address his cousins on the subject of their inhumanity, in this fic or in any other I write. He simply sees it, notes it happening, and moves on. Even in the sections in my fics where the subject of inhumanity in general is brought up between Eustace and one of his cousins, it's always about Caspian, the greater Narnian world, or himself.

"Eustace asks why, and Lucy answers. Narnia changes people, she says. It happens to everyone, but the closer you are to her Heart, the greater it is. I don't know where Dragons are. Perhaps closer than we realized. It's exhilarating, isn't it? Aslan will return us to normal though, at the end of our journey." - AEOD

I don't know why, but I don't like the idea of Eustace trying to directly address the Pevensie brand of inhumanity. That line above takes place after his UnDragoning, after the way he sees things has changed, and I see it as him asking what exactly has changed, you know, why are Dragons different than boys?

That brings me to how Eustace himself changes. Now, if he hadn't gone and turned into a Dragon, I imagine Narnia wouldn't have taken much note of him. He's a random human, stuck-up, not at all in line for ruling her lands, and just kind of exists without much else going on. She still would have affected him a little, as she does to all humans in her world but it would have been almost entirely spiritual with no physical changes. And then we got the greatest fuck around and find out scene ever. He becomes a Dragon.

I love dragons, always have, I have a very deep spiritual connection to these creatures, and as such, I have gone all out on worldbuilding for Narnian Dragons. Again, the quote from AEOD, "...the closer you are to her Heart, the greater it is. I don't know where Dragons are. Perhaps closer than we realized." In the Inhuman AU, Dragons were the first creatures Narnia (the deity) and Aslan made when they created Narnia (the world). They just really liked the dragon shape from other worlds and thought, "Hey wouldn't it be cool if our world was populated by these big fire-breathing lizards?" Now I don't actually remember how often Dragons are mentioned and/or featured in the books so I'm going with my idea that Dragons are a somewhat rare but not extinct species. They have to be created through magical means, often through physical transformation of people or objects, though there are a few known cases of natural-born Narnian Dragons. Eustace's creation was the curse on the treasure, though I don't see his Dragoning as a curse itself. As in, the curse isn't in the being a Dragon, it's in how the Dragon was created. So, Eustace experiences this accidental change into a creature that's closer to Narnia's Heart than pretty much any other being in Narnia. They were her first creations, forged from the fire in the Stars, and they are the closest to her magic. And that gets her attention.

Now, if you went and read AEOD, you'll have noticed that one of Eustace's biggest changes (aside from the obvious physical ones) is his vision. This is just a natural thing for Dragons, they are far more in tune with magic and the earth and everything than everyone else, but Narnia's special interest in him definitely amplifies the hell out of his magic sense.

"The people here say dragons see the oddest of things, and he has to assume it's a hallucination....He refuses to give into its whims, reminds himself it's just his imagination. Until Reepicheep comments on it." - AEOD. Following this quote, Reepicheep mentions to Lucy that her inhumanity is returning faster than Edmund's and Eustace has a total panic attack at the idea that what he's seeing is real. He sees what everyone else does, Lucy's stained fingers and Edmund's ability to manipulate words, but he also notices stuff no one else does like the stars in Edmund's throat and the echoes that follow Lucy's words. This is further cemented after his UnDragoning, where the extra stuff he perceived has vanished. Now the general idea in this AU is that the closer to Narnia's Heart you are, the more you know and perceive. Everyone can see some of the more obvious inhuman aspects of the Pevensies, but there are things that only Dragons, druids, Stars, and some other magic folk really close to Narnia's Heart see. I'm not going to get into an exact chart of what certain characters can and cannot see because that can change over time and such and I'd rather leave it mostly up to personal interpretation on what other characters do and do not perceive about the Pevensies and other such inhuman characters.

(Side note—I had to pause in the writing of this post here to go to my second meeting for an autism assessment and I think if I just showed the doctor my notes app and the inhuman/dark fantasy narnia tag on my blog, I'd get the diagnosis instantly lol) So anyways, Narnia senses Eustace becoming a Dragon and is like "Ooohoo what's this?" and starts sort of digging into him in the same way she does to her Kings and Queens. This triggers his already enhanced perception of Narnia (the world) to get even stronger, and this is when he starts seeing stuff like people's souls, Caspian's second heart (more on that soon), and looking at Lucy/Edmund/Lilliandil becomes almost painful because Narnia's magic is so bright in them. Aslan then UnDragons him, which Narnia really doesn't like btw, and Eustace is back to being a fairly average human.

This is where stuff established in AEOD ends.

Now I have so many ideas and half finished fanfics written out in my notes app about Eustace, UnDragoning, and inhumanity and it would be impossible to cover them all here, so I'm just going to go with the highlights. One of my favorite ones is the idea that after Eustace's UnDragoning, he still feels very connected to being a dragon. He's had this taste of pure inhumanity, and something like that doesn't just leave a person. There's a fic I read once long before I was fully invested in this fandom about Eustace and draconity that I will never stop thinking about and was actually the reason I started considering Eustace and Narnian Dragons in this AU. One of the really important things to note is that once a Dragon is created, they can never be uncreated. They can be UnDragoned, where their physical form is returned to whatever it was before their Dragoning (a rock, a talisman, a faun, etc) but their soul has changed on a fundamental level to that of a Dragon. Now for Eustace in my Inhuman AU, this manifests spiritually as a deep longing to return to being a Dragon. Physically, he experiences fun side effects like increased heat tolerance, nails that grow faster than normal, and because Narnia likes to meddle, a single ridge of scales along his spine. In some versions of my drafts, he stays at the end of VOTDT and experiences a slow Dragoning because Narnia's influence on him is that strong, other versions he stays but never quite returns to the Dragon he was before, and in yet other versions, he returns to England and loses that connection enough that physically, he will never be a Dragon again. As I said, Narnia is fascinated by him, she's never really had a human Dragon before, but he is still just a random guy who happens to be related to the Pevensies and as such, she doesn't invest as much time or magic into his inhumanity.

So that's Eustace. This is already such a long post but I promised to talk about both him and Caspian so here we go.

Now, in my last post I talked a bit about how Narnia (the deity) affects the other humans in Narnia (the world) to an extent, but it's nowhere near the amount she does to her Kings and Queens, and also this diminishes more and more the farther you get from Narnia (the country). Telmar is fairly close to Narnia (the country) but as we see in PC, a lot of Narnia's magic and spirit has been diminished by the time Caspian is born. Up until the awakening of the land during the battle, Caspian is essentially 100% human. However, this changes very quickly.

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment Caspian becomes a King of Narnia. Is it when he refuses to kill Miraz? Is it when Aslan tells him he's one? Is it during his actual coronation? Yes, yes, and yes. I try not to pin it down to an exact moment. By the end of PC though, he's definitely noticing some changes in himself. I have an unpublished part 2 to an exploration of Inhumanity (my only other actually posted fic on this stuff) that I swear I will clean up and get posted soon that goes into further detail on the changes he's noticing at the end of AEOI. Some of the big ones include a second golden heart, seeing some of the life magic in the world around him, and a golden glow on his palms. He also slowly develops the ability to heal, though it's not always consistent. Magic takes practice, lots and lots of practice. In pt 2, the glow on his palms has gotten so bright and also spread around his head like a halo, and Lucy shows him how to conceal it so he's not impossible to look at, but because of Magic™ there's still a dusting of golden powdery stuff across his skin. His blood turns golden because Ben Barnes + golden blood is such pretty imagery, and like the others, it gets sucked down and absorbed into Narnia's Heart when he bleeds in battle. Also when I say he's got a second heart I mean he's got a second fucking heart. Ribcage shift and all. (His appearance doesn't actually change, it's more like a pocket dimension thing going on inside him, but he sure as hell can feel it happening). Having Narnia as a patron goddess just means you have to put up with a second puberty sometimes lol.

Anyways, there's a line in AEOI that I feel explains this stuff really well. "He cannot truly protect the land without becoming a part of it himself." Narnia changes her Kings and Queens because she wants them to be a part of her. Aslan doesn't really see these changes as necessary (in canon, a world without deity Narnia, they don't happen), and if the storyline we pick is the one that's the constant cycle of humanity and inhumanity, it's sort of a push and pull between them. Aslan wants the Pevensies, and by proxy anyone else who rules Narnia or experiences these changes, to keep their humanity, to stay as they were Created by him. Narnia, however, wants them to be as much a part of her as she is of them. It's very clear in both the books and the movies that Narnia (the world) is where these characters belong. In the end, they all come home to her (yes, Susan too because fuck Mr. Clive Staples Lewis). Caspian being anything less than fully inhuman is something she cannot handle. She is constantly having to recreate the Pevensies, reestablish her hold on them, only to have them return to England and become mostly human again. Caspian cannot be taken away from her, he is in this world by birth and she is going to do everything she can to shape him into the ruler he needs to be.

Once again, I would like to state that Aslan and Narnia are not opposing sides of good and evil. Gods cannot be defined by human standards, and to think either Narnia or Aslan completely in the right or wrong in this AU would be, well, an interesting standpoint, but really not the one I'm going for here. I'm not going to say it's a misinterpretation, I am very open to hearing people's thoughts on this AU, and everyone's going to see things differently. Just, please reread what I've written about them before you start making that argument.

Anyways, that wraps this post up because I have spent the better part of the past 6 hours writing this. I spent way more time on Eustace than I intended but it's just so fascinating to think about inhumanity from his perspective considering he's the only one in canon that actually was (briefly) inhuman. Again, if you got this far, congratulations! If you use any of my ideas mentioned here, please tag me, I am so starved for inhuman Narnia content lol.

[gaiatheorist]

A little knowledge...

I keep starting this, and then deleting it, that’s either an indication that I’m trying to process as fully as i can, or that I’m being avoidant, and slipping into another depressive episode, I’ll keep an eye on it.

I have an untidy heap of paperwork at the side of my desk, it’s not ‘on’ the desk yet, because I’m not quite ready to fill it in. There’s no deadline on it, so it’s ‘floating’, rather than ‘fixed’, and the formatting of it is doing my head in. It’s the end-of-course review and coping plan for the Trauma Stabilisation Group I finished last week. I told my son a few days ago that the ‘mentals’ write their own coping plans, and he was incredulous, I’m relatively good at planning, and taking all factors into consideration, but the new medication, and the appeal against the denial of my disability benefit, and, well, 2020 are taking a toll on me, I’m slipping.

‘Introduction to Trauma Stabilisation Class’, three 90-minute sessions, delivered via Microsoft ‘Teams’, on account of the Covid-19 pandemic, we’re too unwell to be left to our own devices, so the online group was the least-bad option. It’s free, I know a fair few people who have had to pay for their own therapy, because they can’t access NHS treatment, and I know I’m part of a very small, but fortunate number, to still be on NHS lists. Groups of people with mental health issues are always a bit of a gamble, there’s the waiting-room-contagion factor, where some people will exchange symptoms and ‘unhelpful coping mechanisms’, and the weird mix of characters that are inevitable. This was either my third or fourth ‘Introduction to...’ group, and the online format was differently stressful to the in-the-flesh ones. I know ‘most’ of my group-dynamic bad habits, and there’s always a little bit of my cognitive functioning occupied with telling myself *don’t* do this, or that. In a nutshell, I’m a watchful show-off, the ‘feeling small and vulnerable’ part of my C-PTSD would, historically, lead me to muck about, or attempt to dominate groups, throw in my autistic ‘organising’, my professional desire to help, and the fatigue and over-stimulus from the brain injuries, and I *could* be a nightmare in groups. 

I was honest with the triage staff right from the beginning, it’ll be in my notes that I acknowledge my tendencies to ‘take charge’, as a means of coping with so much in my life that’s been beyond my control, it’s not all deliberate, and it’s sometimes really useful. I’m a sheep-dog, which is productive when I’m rounding up stragglers, and pointing them in the right direction, less-so when I’m distracted by a squirrel outside the window. 

Being what I am, and knowing what I know from my previous career is a double-edged sword. I know the fancy words for the theories and processes, so can be mildly irritated when the language has to be dumbed-down to the lowest common denominator. It does have to be, though, on the previous course, we had a couple of participants who couldn’t read the text on the worksheets (formatting issue, too much text crammed onto each page, to save on photocopying costs, they strained my eyes a bit) I can’t do my (TM) Autistic thing of assuming that, if I ‘know’ a thing, everyone else in the room does too. I can do my helpful thing of re-explaining something the facilitator has said if the group don’t seem to ‘get’ it, or clarifying something a participant has said if the facilitators misconstrue it. (One of the staff on the previous course was an absolute horror for that, she wasn’t listening actively, just barrelling on with what she thought had been said, people stop volunteering information when that happens.) I’m not there to ‘help’, or to ‘lead’, though. One of the participants in this last group threw a bit of a tantrum, she’d dominated most of the speaking in the previous session, and flipped when I was given air-time to explain something. That was hard to deal with, because I automatically switched to Mentor-mode, and very nearly lost track of the content trying to think of a way to alert one of the facilitators to check in on her, and try to bring her down from her agitated state before she hurt herself. 

I’m dabbling with the slightly paranoid theory that some participants, or even facilitators might think I’m a Mystery Shopper sort of thing. My ‘old’ practices and processes made a lot of people ask “How do you DO that?”, the ‘Matilda’-thing, I just do, I’m exceptional at a lot of very difficult things sometimes, but I can’t use oven-gloves, and, especially recently, I’ve been forgetting a lot of words. Other participants might think I’m a smart-arse, I am, it doesn’t matter, I imagine I frustrate the facilitators because I can give theoretically correct answers, but can’t consistently apply the theories in my own life. I’m not there to make friends, we all have to sign contracts of expectations saying we won’t form relationships, I understand that, an elective empathy with other high-end mental health cases is never going to be a good thing. My curious combination of conditions makes me a bit of a distance-er anyway, I stick as firmly as I can to the procedural pathways, it’s a process-with-purpose, not a popularity contest.

I’m struggling with the ‘be kind to yourself’ angle again. It’s not in my nature, I don’t know how. That bumps heads with the ‘normalising nice things’, even at this level of mental health intervention, we’re encouraged to ‘savour the taste of your favourite food’- food is just fuel, I don’t have a favourite, and, when people start banging on about chocolate, or cake, or whatever, I don’t get it. Visit a favourite place, phone/meet up with a friend, listen to uplifting music, go for a walk, buy yourself flowers, have a haircut, all of the ‘normal’ nice-things leave me cold, I don’t really have hobbies or interests, very few things spark my oxytocin or dopamine responses, I’m not a joyful type, that’s my baseline-normal, not a press-the-panic-button indicator that I’m depressed. 

“You’re just not trying!” Luckily, nobody ‘medical’ has trotted that one out, but it’s been the backing track to my life pretty much forever. I am trying, I’m trying very hard, especially since the brain injuries. There’s been a slow realisation that I have to pick my battles wisely, though. I’ve long maintained that anyone who’s ‘always’ happy must have a flap in their back where the batteries go, I’m not advocating living in a constant state of ‘Eeyore’ gloom, but constant joy must be bloody exhausting. I’m not always moody or maudlin, I’m just sort of ‘flat’, not particularly animated or enthusiastic about much, but I can engage for short periods when I need to. “Smile, love, it might never happen!” can get right in the bin, and, as the internet pointed out the other day, telling someone to ‘just think positive’ as a cure-all is ridiculous. Well-meaning, but oblivious people will chip in with their intrusive-insensitive opinions of how a bit of yoga, or more vegetables are all we need to be all-better, and it’s a challenge to not point out that some of us are a bit beyond ‘just snapping out of it’. 

That’s not defeatist. I’m autistic, my brain runs on a non-standard Operating System, the updates don’t always load, and I have to make a hell of a lot of work-around adaptations. Sometimes life’s like walking everywhere with my shoes on the wrong feet, and sometimes it’s like my appliances have come with the wrong plug, and I have to stick a spoon-handle in the Earth socket to make them work. On top of the autism, I had a succession of adverse experiences through the course of my life, which have left me with C-PTSD. I have a telephone-directory of medical conditions, and the icing on the cake was the brain haemorrhage  five years ago, I have brain injuries, bits of metal plugging up aneurysms, and one area of ‘risky’ defects on my brain-stem. Those are facts, I have a file of medical paperwork about two inches thick, but the UK disability benefit departments have decided to latch onto the fact that I’m not on any medication for mental health issues. (I’ve tried lots, none of them worked long-term, and now we know we’re dealing with a neurodevelopmental disorder, and physical brain damage, I don’t think a bit of Prozac is going to help.)

Knowing that my brain is physically and chemically different to ‘most’ people’s is not a get-out-of-jail-free-card. These are reasons, not excuses, and I’m doing what I can to work within and around my limitations. I’m not unique, or a special unicorn, I’m disabled, and damaged, and trying to work with the fragmented NHS. One of the issues with the trauma course was the assumptions. I absolutely don’t blame the facilitators, they’re working with pre-prepared material, and a ‘difficult’ cohort. I did gently correct the course-leader, when she started listing ‘normal’ coping mechanisms, the walk-in-the-park, cup-of-tea-with-friends type ones. Some of those ‘simple’ activities are incredibly difficult for some of us, that’s why we’re at this level of intervention, if we could have ‘just’ joined a knitting circle, or taken up photography, we’d already have done it. I explained the need for pacing, the other two participants had limited impulse control, so giving the ‘shopping list’ of strategies was a bit risky, I know I have a tendency to over-reach, so need to be careful with myself. None of us had mentioned nightmares or flashbacks, but they’re on the standard list of indicators for PTSD. There was an assumption that we all had them, in the same way as one of the other triage practitioners, ages ago, told me “It’s not PTSD, because you don’t have nightmares.” I have auditory and olfactory flashbacks and hallucinations. 

The doctors that didn’t make further investigations for the mutated migraines before the aneurysm ruptured. The gyneacologist that told my HUSBAND “There’s nothing physically wrong with her.”, the Occupational Health doctor who told me “It’s not vertigo, because that’s spinning.” and “It wasn’t a stroke, because you don’t have one-sided weakness.” I know they have to have lists of diagnostic criteria to start from, but Little-Miss-Autistic here spent far too long just-trying-to-cope because I didn’t fit neatly into their matrices. (Don’t get me started on DWP/PIP ignoring reams of evidence, and just picking out that I turned up to the assessment with my trousers on the right way around...) 

I know too much about some things, and not enough about others. My ‘flat’ presentation gives the impression that I’m calm when I’m not, and coping more than I am. The review for the trauma class isn’t until September, and I genuinely don’t know what the next step will be. I’m already on the waiting list for the ‘Compassion’ course, and the very long waiting list for the Specialist Neurodevelopmental Service in the city, to see if there’s anything ‘else’ I haven’t already tried to work within and around the autism. I’ve slipped through a million holes in a million nets, because I know enough to give the answers I ‘should’, the biggest irony is that when I answer “I don’t know.”, the assumption is that I’m being defensive or difficult. A little knowledge is indeed a dangerous thing.   

[prorevenge]

Teacher tells me I am lying about my mother having cancer.

This is a long one with TLDR at bottom

This was in my grade 11 year of high school, My computer class had a year long substitute teacher because our amazing teacher was out for a year working on a government contract. Our previous teacher was outstanding. He had six different classes in our classroom all happening at the same time which were: computer repair, programming lvl1, programming lvl2, networking lvl1, networking lvl2a and lvl2b. He would give a lecture for each of the classes on a specific day of the week, programming on Monday, repair on Tuesday and so on, we would all work in our own groups and everything went quite well.

The next year came around and I found out that we had a sub for the year I had two back to back blocks in this class cause I was doing two courses, I wandered up to the class to see what kind of teacher we were dealing with, mainly interested because i was almost certain whoever they found did not have the credentials to teach at least half of those classes. The new teacher was a foreign woman that none of us have ever heard of before, for the purpose of the story we will call her Mrs. S.

I went and found my friends to tell them what I had seen. We were all optimistic cause from a very short conversation she seemed quite informed and had a good background.

It didn't last long, on the first day of class Mrs. S introduced herself as a programming teacher who had been in school for four years. She went on to tell us about her programming experience in Microsoft Excel and Microsoft Access. She then told us that the programming students would not be doing the Java and C++ course we had signed up for and would instead be doing database and Excel because those are what she learned and she said and i quote 'they will be more useful than C and The Java'. She also went on to suspend all at lunch clubs because she didn't think high school students could be trusted with computers alone.

Understandably some of us were quite upset about that considering that we came there to program. She also did not give the repair people or the networking people any kind of support and completely stopped their lectures as well, preferring to let them figure it out themselves and 'self teach' without giving any of the resources to do so and occasionally throwing out a test pre-written by the last teacher for her.

This continued for about two weeks till one day she came in and said quite irritated that we would actually be doing 'The Java' now unless we wanted to keep doing database, so we switched to Java and she basically left us out to dry from there. because she wasn't teaching Database anymore she came to harass people in computer repair. First she told us the shop room was too messy and made us throw out 90% of our training workstations and equipment because they were not important in her eyes. Equipment that did not belong to the school but actually belonged to the other teacher. We took home what we could steal for safe keeping but she did end up throwing out a few thousand in equipment.

Then she started imposing stupid rules on us such as;

"You can't have the computer on while you are troubleshooting inside cause you could electrocute yourself"

Or

"You don't need the case open to troubleshoot motherboard lights"

Or my personal favorite and the most scary

"maybe you should change the power supply to 240v if you aren't getting enough power"

We followed most of her stupid requests as much as we could because she threatened to lock us out of the lab room and give us only textbook work if we didn't. Needless to say it was a challenging time. One of the students in the networking area got fed up and started doing up his own course work and lecturing to us so that we could at least get some kind of use out of the courses. To his credit it was all very good but Mrs. S had the balls to force him into doing it from there on out and then turn around and give him low grades for not getting his own work done on time.

A few months of this very uneasy balance go by and my mother comes down with Colon cancer. I have already had a handful of other family members suddenly taken from me by cancer so understandably this is a very stressful time. I was joking with my friends and trying to not break down over the whole thing. I had a very unstable laptop running Linux that would crash if looked at funny and had a horrible habit of corrupting the OS when the battery died because the reserve shutdown sensor didn't work anymore (battery always read 0% but would go for an hour or two). while I was working on the school desktop computer I had a few pages open that I was taking notes in and a facebook tab so I could keep in contact with my mother cause she was in surgery and I was waiting for her to come out. I look over and the teacher is snooping through my laptop opening folders and closing windows and eventually pushes the power button in till it shuts down (which also usually corrupts anything I was doing). The following happened.

M: What the hell do you think you are doing?

S: You shouldn't be on facebook or writing notes on a personal computer during class time, especially when your grades are slipping.

Thanks for bringing that up in front of everyone...

M: That gives you no right to touch my stuff! You better hope you didn't just corrupt everything! this laptop breaks easy.

S: Then you shouldn't have it out during class, keep that tone up and I'll see you get a detention.

At this point I am trying just to keep calm because if I get too emotional I have a tendency to explode. This is often made worse because of my mild autism. I took a second replied in a calmer tone.

M: I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time at home right now... My mother was diagnosed with Colon Cancer and I am waiting to hear back.

And this is the part which REALLY set me off.

S: You don't look like a kid who's mother has cancer, quit making sob story excuses.

are you FUCKING kidding me‽

It took every fiber of my body not to stand up and slap the bitch right there. I gave her the dirtiest thousand yard stare I think I have ever done while also trying to not burst out crying. I spoke to nobody for the rest of the day till I got home, people kept asking if I was okay and I ignored everyone. My mother was out of the hospital and home by the time I got there. I broke down crying and told her about my day, her face was comforting but you could see the fire of an angry woman behind her brown eyes. She told me not to worry and that it'd be okay.

A few weeks passed and I was called into the office for a one on one parent teacher conference someone forgot to tell me about. There were all the teachers I had that year, good and bad, my Learning assistance teacher the VP and the principal herself. They told me that we were there to discuss my grade slippage as soon as my mother came. My mother was about 10 minutes late, leaving me to awkwardly sit with all these people. She comes in and is all smiles,

M: Sorry I am Late! I got held late at the hospital.

Someone but i'm not sure who asked her why she was at the hospital and if everything is okay. My mother answered in her happy way.

M: I was just getting my C̭̟̦̤̕A̰̣̰̼Ń͕̝̬C̵͕E̯R̥̫͇̹̳͝ checked on, Because I have cancer.

The room went cold and her voice seemingly dripped with blood when she said it, my computers teacher went pale and everyone in the room was giving a confused 'what on earth did you do' look

My mother proceeded to relay me coming crying home about how I was treated to everyone present while Mrs: S tried to become one with the wall of the small meeting room. She kept it short but to paraphrase added the following.

M: How dare you say something so careless to my son, I hope you are ashamed and I hope you don't get invited back for another year.

She then returned back to her normal happy self and discussed my grades like nothing happened whilst half the teachers were still trying to figure out what just happened and told them that now she was out of the hospital my grades should improve again. I just sat quiet the whole time and tried to suppress bursting out laughing.

After that day she never directly spoke to me again, had instructions relayed through other people or gave them to the class as a whole, she did her damnedest to be nowhere near me and say nothing to me. My grades improved quite a bit and the year ended with me passing.

Mrs. S was previously offered a job at the school as a secondary computer teacher but after all the trouble the job was pulled back. The next year when our first computer teacher returned he was furious to learn most of his equipment and personal books had been thrown out, we returned the things that we snagged during the purge but he still lost a few thousand in personal teaching stuff. The school payed him back with 10,000 but he says he lost so much more than that in time and pre-set hand made equipment. We told him all about the horror show and he gave us all an extensive test normally given at the end of the year which the vast majority of us failed, we ended up redoing all the computer courses from the previous year because in his words she didn't even teach us the basics. that sub can no longer teach in this or the neighboring districts

TLDR: Shitty year long sub fucks us all over, tells me i am faking my mother's cancer and destroys another teachers personal property. Gets ripped into by mother with all my teachers and VP and P present. looses opportunity to work in my district or any surrounding for being unprofessional and not knowing her subject forcing everyone in her class to retake the next year.

(source) (story by flanigomik)

[homestuckisautistic]

Thoughts on the new Friendsim

I want to preface this with a gore warning for the end of Nihkee’s route. If you choose to hesitate instead of accepting her training you’ll end up viewing a series of flashbacks to the old friendsims as well as an image of Nihkee’s mangled leg with bone sticking out. Be careful!

I’ll talk about Daraya first.

Firstly, I think it’s really interesting that they’ve confirmed that the jades aren’t this close-knit group of friends like we’ve all assumed. The fandom in general up until now has assumed that and depicted the jades as super close buddies but Daraya’s route confirmed that wasn’t the case. She outright says that she hates Bronya and Lynera. I really hope that something will actually come of this and that it won’t just be forgotten about. 

I also want to note that at times Daraya really looks like Gwen from Total Drama Island at times (they’re both goth but that’s about all they have in common), and that I loved Chahut’s cameo because uhhhhh I’m lesbiab!

I really liked the conversation between Tyzias and Daraya, it functions as a parallel to actual leftist discourse that happens every day on this website and in real life too I guess. There are people who once they realize how shitty this world is become depressed and nihilistic and there are others who get pissed and try to change things. One is certainly more constructive than the other but neither is the right or wrong way to feel about society.  

I think these two worldviews also apply to the autistic community and the various way in which we interact with our own oppression in society. When I first self-diagnosed with autism I was 14 getting ready to turn 15 in spring 2015 and I was very eager to share my newfound knowledge about autism with the world (like identity first language and why functioning labels are bad etc.) so I went around talking to basically everyone I trusted about it. But as we all are well aware of here, talking to allistics about autism is like talking to a fucking brick wall. And this got very exhausting very quickly and when you put so much effort into trying to change things with no results you eventually get to the point where you just say fuck it and stop trying. This is what happened to me and honestly I’ve actually regressed a bit since I first self-diagnosed in that I used to boldly flap my hands around my family and close friends but now I can’t because I’m too ashamed. I’m too ashamed to flap my hands around my best friend of 11 years who has known me and loved me and accepted me before I even fucking knew how to pass as allistic which is uh a big problem and it’s one that I’m working on. 

It’s also kind of dangerous to talk to allistics especially NTs about autism because you never know how they’re going to react. Sometimes it’s safer and wiser to just let that asshole who sits next to you in 4th period to keep using autism as an insult because there’s no way for you to educate him without outing yourself or him suspecting that you’re autistic because you’re awkward and don’t have any friends in this class and risk him starting to bully you vs. keeping yourself safe and trying to ignore this guy who you won’t ever see again after you graduate in a few months. In other words, to quote an old country song: “You've got to know when to hold 'em Know when to fold 'em Know when to walk away And know when to run”

And it fucking breaks my heart that this is a choice we have to make on this bitch of an earth because nobody should ever have to ask themselves “is it worth it to risk abuse/bullying if arguing with someone for a few minutes will ensure that they have a change of heart years down the road?” because no matter what choice you make you lose.

Daraya strikes me as autistic with a special interest in...idk how to phrase this...rebellion? Societal power dynamics? Idk but if you’ve played through her route then you know what I mean I’m sure. Daraya is also obviously depressed and suicidal, and unfortunately I get the sense that she doesn’t get much support from the other jades which doesn’t help. It’s heavily implied that she just lets herself burn to death in the fire at the mall, which is one hell of a way to die. Ask anyone who’s survived a fire and they’ll tell you that burning is on a whole other level pain wise. Heck, if asked then I’d say that a cigarette burn is among the worst pains I’ve felt in my life. I hope that Daraya gets help somehow. It really broke my heart when she asked if she could go to Earth with the reader.

Onto Nihkee

Nihkee’s route was a fucking wild ride. And I loved it.

This is minor but I really liked those horse statues in the background. The indigo caste almost has this ancient Greece/Rome (idk I’m into American history not European history and my world history class was 4 years ago) theme to their culture which I find interesting and I think it really works, aesthetically speaking. I also really like that they made Nihkee explicitly buff and didn’t sexualize her at all. Not that I think Hiveswap is the type of media that would do that but even Zarya from Overwatch, which is a game that tries to be progressive, has fucking boob divots in her “armor” which is not practical at all!

Nihkee seems autistic to me too (come on, who the fuck would be that enthusiastic about something if not for it being an autistic person’s Special interest) she’s really into wrestling and being buff, and even though I haven’t ran any significant distance since my freshman year of high school, I’m fucking here for it! Yeah I don’t have much serious analysis to talk about here because Nihkee’s route just was more lighthearted except for that one ending with the gore. I really liked Tyzias and Stelsa’s appearance though, I’m always happy to see them! I really want to see more of Nihkee because her character is so ripe for situational comedy imo. A conversation between her and literally anyone else would be fucking hilarious. 

Also in the background at the beginning of Nihkee’s route there’s two trolls wrestling in the cage and we later find out one’s a purple blood (which was obvious because, I mean come on look at his face) and that the other one is an olive blood that uses she/her pronouns but the thing is that she appears to be shirtless? Damn, tiddies really are just out for Nihkee I guess. 

I think it was a wise decision to pair Daraya’s somber and serious route with one that was more lighthearted like Nihkee’s.

I also want to stage why I didn’t make a post about Fozzer and Marvus’ friendsim. It’s no secret that I’m biased towards the girls and that mindfuck at the end of Fozzer’s route just didn’t appeal to me analysis wise and Marvus’ route was like 40 minutes long on YouTube but I bit the bullet and watched a few minutes and at the first mention of concert diapers I noped on out of there.

- Mod Jessica 

[brainfoodgp]

Seeds For Wellness Journal Summer/2017

“There needs to be a lot more emphasis on what a child can do instead of what he cannot do.” -Temple Grandin-

I have certainly been busy this month celebrating my 45th new year! For someone that spent a lot of my 20’s and 30’s trying to find ways to end my life, there is a certain joy that comes with each new passing year. Managing my manic depressive symptoms is in itself a full time job. However, by eating a healthier diet and getting out into a garden as much as possible. I realized that the reason I am still on this earth is to spread that message throughout the mental health community. Both of these wellness tools successfully work for me and I know deep down they could work for you as well.

A perfect opportunity to further that mission came about several months ago when life coach and motivational speaker Ozioma Egwuonwu invited me to come out to The Dream Center in Newburgh, NY and to share my story and vision for Brain Food Garden Project. The DreamTalk will take place on July 27th from 7-9PM I hope you will be able to join me or stream it live. To learn more about The Dream Center Click Here  And to learn more about its founder Ozioma Click Here

I love the fact that we highlight certain days, weeks and months out of a year to bring attention to important causes. I love Mental Health Awareness month and the greater understanding it brings to the world. However, I also believe that we should talk about all of these important issues all year long. It is our goal at Brain Food Garden Project to keep the dialogue flowing on a plethora of topics related to mental health and food justice every single day through social media and this blog. That is precisely why I turned over our BFGP Feature story this month to a good friend and the mother of a beautiful young man Carter, who just happens to also be Autistic. Sarah Todd’s beautifully written article will indeed show you the true meaning of the words unconditional love.

Also this month we return with more Notes from the Resistance, and What I’m Reading and our Healthy & Delicious Recipes tie in to our feature story on Autism.  

Happy Reading!  

The BFGP Feature:

Sarah Todd is a resident of Covington, Georgia. Besides being an exceptional mother to her son Carter and a true believer in the power of Harry Potter as a mental health wellness tool. She is also an advocate for all children and parents dealing with Autism. Sarah is the Vice Chair of County Parties and County Party Liaison for the state Democratic Party. She travels county by county insuring that the next generation of grassroots activists are trained and ready for the frontlines.

Life As an Autism Mama by Sarah Todd

When it comes to parenting a child on the autism spectrum, you often wish there was a book you could pick up that would give you step by step instructions on how not to screw up your one task, which is to raise a happy, healthy human being.  I’ve wished and dreamed for such a thing, but I know it doesn’t exist because as the old saying goes, “if you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism.”  There is no one-size-fits-all strategy for raising an autistic child.

In the grand scheme of things, I’m relatively new to the world of autism.  Unofficially, I’ve lived in this world for 11 years.  Officially, for 9, when we received a diagnosis of PDD-NOS (Pervasive Developmental Delays – Not Otherwise Specified) for our son Carter. I had a totally normal pregnancy. Easy delivery.  Everything was just fine and we couldn’t be happier. Carter progressed as he should have for about 15 months and then stopped reaching “normal” infant and toddler milestones.  I really didn’t need a doctor to tell me my child was different.  I knew something was different about Carter before we were ever told.  A mother always knows.  The signs were there.

Lining up toys in a straight line.  Loud noises hurting his ears.  Twirling until he fell over and then getting back up and doing it again.  Bright lights hurting his eyes (and in stores, the noise of florescent lights hurting his ears).  Not interested in playing with toys, but wanting to see how they worked (especially if they had wheels that moved).  Walking on his tip toes.  Answering your questions with a question or just repeating back to you what you said to him (echolalia).  Repetition. Repetition.  Repetition.  Hand flapping when he was excited (this was really cute and I kind of miss it now that he’s outgrown this stimming technique).  The obsessive love of Thomas the Train.  My husband and I knew it was time to get him into something else when we ended up arguing about two of the trains at 3 o’clock in the morning – long after Carter had fallen asleep, but with us still watching.  Thomas the Train being replaced with an obsessive love of the movie Cars.  Seriously, I’m pretty sure we put some Pixar employee’s kid through college with all the stuff we had to have because it was Lightning McQueen (although I’m pretty sure that was normal for every little boy at that age).

We started the therapies that were recommended by our doctor - occupational therapy and speech therapy. They also recommended ABA therapy (Applied Behavioral Analysis therapy), but our insurance wouldn’t approve it.  When he was three, we enrolled him in a program through our local school system called Babies Can’t Wait that provides early intervention for children with developmental delays.  We couldn’t get him into the program until about three months before the school year ended, but it was a very good start to getting him socialized with other kids.  He was in a special needs Pre-K class at one school.  I wasn’t impressed.  We moved to put him in a better school.  He excelled in this other school.  He’s just finished up the 5th grade and is moving to middle school this year. He’s leaving elementary school on the A/B Honor Roll and he has made lasting friendships with some really great kids.  The teachers and staff of this school are some of the most amazing people you would ever hope to have in the field of education.

Carter was “mainstreamed”, which means he split his time between smaller special education classes and regular classes with neurotypical children.  He loves math.  I guess it’s because he can see how it works in his mind.  He’s a visual learner.  He receives occupational therapy and speech therapy through the school system and it helps him maneuver through a day with other kids who don’t have a clue what autism is.  His classmates know he’s different.  They just accept him.

It sounds like a perfect life and I can’t tell you how many times someone has said to me that they couldn’t tell that he’s on the spectrum.  Good.  That’s exactly how we’ve raised him.  I take my role as a parent preparing him for a life without me very seriously.

He really is a happy kid and I consider myself to be the luckiest mom in the world to have a son that was voted “Most Polite” by his fellow classmates and teachers at school this past year.  He’s funny. He’s smart.  He’s kind.  Unlike some others on the spectrum, he’s extremely empathetic.  He’ll bring you a tissue if he sees you crying and tells you over and over that it’s going to be ok.  By my account, he’s doing just fine.

He’s just out there being the best 11 year old he can be.  There have been times when he’s faltered, but what child hasn’t?  Getting to this point though has been a struggle for us.  I would never speak for my husband because our roles in Carter’s life are very different, but for me, this life hasn’t always been peachy.  I wouldn’t trade being his mom for anything in the world, but I would like to know what it’s like to not go to sleep on a regular basis being eaten alive with worry. He’s an only child.  Who will be there for him when we’re gone?    Will he be picked on at his new school?  Will he always be oblivious to the dangers of this world?  Will he ever be able to communicate with people in a truly meaningful way?  Will he ever find someone to love him for just being his amazing self?

People don’t know that it’s lonely being a parent of a child with autism.  We’re surrounded by others, but they have no idea what kind of struggles we go through.  I often wonder to myself if parents of neurotypical kids are guilty of wishing that, for once, their kid just “gets it” like everyone else does.  Or, in my more selfish moments, I want to know do they know what its like to mourn the loss of a child that never existed, but you thought you would have?  Where’s my son that would play little league baseball instead of sitting at a computer all day building cars on car company websites?  In my more critical moments, I’m deeply ashamed of myself for thinking such things.

We face a lot of external strains.  Financially, we’ve taken hit after hit.  Georgia wasn’t a state that mandated autism coverage when Carter was younger so we had to pay for his therapies out of pocket.  We burned through our savings.  I cashed out two 401k’s.  We lost our home to foreclosure, but I have a kid who can communicate with others so I think we chose wisely.

I consider myself pretty lucky that I have a great partner on our son’s journey to adulthood.   Don’t get me wrong - I get angry with my husband. I resent the hell out of being The Parent while he gets to be Mr. Fun Time Guy to hang out with on the weekends, but we also know that we’re not the focus anymore so we get over ourselves real quick.  It’s not about us.  It’s about Carter and we do whatever we have to do to get through another day as TeamTodd

I’m not naturally predisposed to being an optimistic person.  I’ve never been what can be described as patient.  But since I am my child’s introduction to the world, I do whatever I can to be just those very things.  You don’t know love until you are choking down your rage at watching the same movie for the 786th time.  If you are a planner like me – a logistics queen – you weep for your former life because now you know you have to just go with the flow.  You can plan and plan and plan and think you have something figured out for just about every scenario imaginable (and you usually do if you are an autism parent), but there will always be that one thing that comes up that you just have to deal with.

Well-meaning people ask me all the time how to interact with those on the autism spectrum or what can they do to help?  I usually chuckle.  They are so serious when they ask, like they’ve just heard you have some terminal illness and they don’t know what to do.  It’s ok.  Nobody knows what to do until you must deal with it yourself.  I usually tell them that the most important thing to remember when interacting with someone on the autism spectrum is to be patient and don’t take it personally if you don’t get the response you have been hard wired and conditioned to receive your whole life. Anything “typical” to you may or may not be to them.  Really. Can you imagine what it must be like to live in a world that is always too loud, too bright, too colorful, too distracting, too smelly, too much?  We ask so much of people with autism.  Every day, these individuals are expected to fit their square pegs into the round holes of our society.

Life is all about choices. Some people choose to get bogged down by life, to see the ugliness of a cruel world.  We choose to see life through Carter’s eyes – one filled with love and joy and empathy.  We choose to protect him for as long as we can, but we also choose to let him experience his life his own way.  We’ve relinquished control of the path we take.  We’re just along for the ride now and we couldn’t imagine a better guide.

What I’m Reading:

We named Temple Grandin our BFGP Hero back in April of 2016 after I finally watched the wonderful HBO movie based on her life and read her first book Emergence:Labeled Autistic. In honor of my friend and fellow Hufflepuff Carter Todd I have recently started reading The Autistic Brain:Thinking Across The Spectrum by Grandin and Richard Panek. The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette called it “The right brain has created the right book for right now.” 1 in 88 children are affected by Autism. to learn more about Autism Click Here  

Notes From The Resistance:

The Christo Fascist Authoritarian regime currently holding our country in a vice grip knows no shame. From trying to again take away millions of American’s health care to appointing a company party planner to oversee New York’s federal housing programs. These are our notes from the resistance. 

1, Who Gets hurt by the SNAP cuts in the current regime budget? Click Here

2.  This is nothing to party about Click Here

3. Food Justice experts weigh in on the Fascist Click Here 

4. Pesticides our health is at risk with the Authoritarian’s EPA Click Here

5.  End the fascist regime’s pay for play in the private prison system sign the petition Click Here

Healthy & Delicious Recipes:

When I talk to friends with children on the autistic spectrum. One of the consistent things I hear frustrates them the most is the fact they find it difficult to feed their children healthy foods because their kids just want pizza or chicken nuggets. So much of this has to do with the fact autistic kids see visually and taste differently than we do. I have been following our guest writer Sarah Todd’s journey on Facebook recently on working to get Carter to eat more healthfully. That struggle inspired me to look for a recipe this month that would fit Carter’s  sensibility but with mom’s desire for him to eat healthier.

Baked Panko Breaded Chicken Nuggets

INGREDIENTS

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 1 pound total)

1 cup panko (Japanese breadcrumbs)

1/3 cup grated Parmesan

Coarse salt

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

½ cup all-purpose flour

3 large eggs, lightly beaten

Cooking spray 

DIRECTIONS

1.Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cut chicken into 2-inch pieces. Spread panko on a rimmed baking sheet and bake until golden brown, 6 to 8 minutes. Transfer to a shallow dish, then add Parmesan and ½ teaspoon salt; drizzle with oil and stir to combine.

2.Place flour and eggs in separate shallow dishes. Increase temperature to 450 degrees.

3.Set a wire rack in a rimmed baking sheet; lightly coat rack with cooking spray. In batches, coat chicken in flour, shaking off excess, dip in egg, then coat with panko, pressing to adhere. Place on rack.

4.Bake until chicken is cooked through, 12 minutes, flipping halfway through. Serve nuggets with sauce.

[lumalilac]

Mind if I personal info dump a bit?

Ok so for the past couple of years I’ve been working on allowing myself to feel angry. I feel like a lot of my anxiety has come from not allowing myself to express strong negative emotions. I’ve become convinced that if I get really angry or upset with someone, they’ll leave me alone cause no one wants to be around that or ignore it until I shut up about it. It ends up with me taking blame for everything in my life, even when those things might not even involve me at all. If I can’t solve a problem it’s naturally my fault and need to go to the ends of the earth to correct it. Asking anyone else is useless cause no one else will want to actually assist me in correcting the problem and will either sweep it under the rug or tell me that I’m not trying hard enough. Any type of emotional pain I might be enduring gets bottled up until I just can’t take it anymore and it fucking sucks.

I’ve never really considered myself a particularly angry person, which is probably a big fucking lie, but any type of anger is usually directed at my inability to do things because of my mental disabilities. It took me literally years to get tested because everyone, including my parents, would tell me my problems weren’t bad enough to need accommodations. I worked so hard to keep my grades up that everyone deemed me too smart to need them. No one would hear me out about help with my disabilities because I wasn’t tested. It wasn’t until I had the luck of working with a tutor with similar disabilities who heard me out and talked to my mom about it that we actually started the process. It took over a year to get everything for the testing process and another 8 months to get my folks to allow the results to be given to the school so I could actually get accommodations because they disagreed with the autism diagnosis (Note: Technically I’m never supposed to tell people I am diagnosed with autism according to my folks. But fuck em I am autistic you soggy pieces of toast. At the end of the day, it’s my choice to use the terms that best describe me, not you.).

When that happened I thought that my superiors would start actually taking that into account and actually try to help me work through all the things I just never learned how to properly cope with. But guess what? I’m still getting treated like my diagnosis doesn’t fucking matter. My folks are forcing me to do college classes even after having essentially PTSD from being forced into my type of school based education system. My councelors tell me that a lot of the accomodations that are listed for me are moot because, since I am an adult, I should already be able to cope without them. Both of them keep telling me I should talk to them and reach out to get resources and help from them, and why the fuck should I? Again and again I’ve asked for help. I’ve told people what does and does not work for me, I’ve worked my ass off to the breaking point and beyond and it ended with my entire high school career being an emotional scar for life and I tell them that I refuse to put myself in that situation again. But do they listen? no.

People keep telling me that I’m doing this to myself because I don’t try to communicate enough but if anyone was listening they would realize I’ve been doing the best I can after everything I’ve been through. I’m talking, but no one’s listening for shit. After all this time, after all this shit, I’m finally able to say yes. I am fucking angry as shit. I’m angry that everyone knew I had mental problems but deemed my mental health too insignificant to do anything about it. I’m mad that I tried to tell people for almost a half my life that I needed help, but it took someone older and more important than me to say it to even get anywhere. I’m mad that I’ve worked so hard to be listened to and yet here I am, still struggling and hurting from something I’ve never wanted to do when literally everything else I am doing right now will get me so much further if I was just able to make my own damn choices for my future.

You know what’s the most frustrating thing about being angry now? That now it’s doing shit. I can be angry, I can have backbone and tell me I am angry as hell for what they’ve done to me, but I’m still not gonna be taken seriously. The only way that people are going to realize I can’t take this pressure is if I break to the point of no return. That my pain become to great that they can’t just ignore it anymore. And I am so TIRED of breaking. I’ve got a job that I enjoy and can learn a lot from and get money from. I have a blog that has a lot of uncracked potential that I adore working on that I KNOW will become something great. I have a comic I am working on that I now have the emotional energy to put in that will become something amazing and good and important.... but my folks don’t believe that these things will get me where I need to go and that college is the only option for me.

I just... I want them to admit that what they did was wrong, and what they’re doing right now isn’t in my best interests, but theirs. I want them to realize yes, they were right that I will do great things, but not in the way they expected. I want to be able to talk about my work with the LGBT community and the webcomic community and it to be at the very least respected. I just want to be loved for all of my faults and my strengths, not for the person in between those two things. is that too much to ask?

[fapangel]

Self-Defense for the Con-Goer

The following post is being made for the benefit of the cosplay/convention board on 4chan (/cgl/), but /cgl/ has a strong presence on tumblr so I’m hosting it here as well.

A Guide To Personal Safety, Security and Self-Defense at Conventions

Anyone who's read any of our “con horror stories” threads knows well the dangers attendant at conventions. Some of it's the criminal element that shows up to prey on any big gathering like a convention - but a great amount also owes to the kind of cheeto-dusted basement-dwelling CHUDs that tend to populate these events. Since there's been some interest in this recently I've put together some information of great use for *every* con-goer to enhance their personal safety, ranked in order of importance and presentation:

* How to see danger coming, and where it's most likely to happen,

* What to do about it when you notice it,

* The psychology of criminals and how it affects you,

* Your options vis a vis self-defense tools, pros and cons, difficulties and costs of obtaining them and legal considerations to know of, esp. in the context of traveling between states to conventions.

You'll notice that actual self-defense tools are the least important aspect, because an attack prevented is far superior to an attack repulsed - zero risk compared to *some* risk. Without further ado, here's the content:

HOW TO SEE IT COMING:

Absolutely fucking essential required reading in understanding where you will be attacked, and how:

http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/five_stages.html

http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/fringe.html

Everything on this site is excellent, but these two pages are probably the most important reading for a convention-goer. To boil it down for the tl;dr amongst us:

* You will be targeted in “transition areas” that are sparsely populated, while your attention is focused on getting somewhere else - stairwells and parking lots/parking garages are especially dangerous.

* Criminals will “interview” you with some bullshit line as they close in to attack range; the classic “hey man you got a light” strategy. You win or lose the encounter at this point; if you fail to recognize the developing attack you are probably fucked.

* Criminals typically do not hide; it's not really possible. They simply lurk in places with short sight-lines; by the time you see them they're already close and approaching, a pleasant lie on their lips to distract you for the several seconds they need to position themselves for an attack. If someone approaches you in too familiar a manner in any transition or “fringe area,” this is a huge, screaming danger sign. Have your cell phone in one hand and your self-defense option of choice in the other, immediately.

There's a few other links on this site especially applicable to convention situations, especially in light of the shit we see in the horror story threads.

Profile of a rapist (i.e. a selfish, self-absorbed son of a bitch:) http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/profile.html

Hit hard or run, but never, ever hit them light: http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/ineffective_violence.htm

Both of these relate especially to dangers of acquaintance rape, and given the common practice of splitting hotel room costs at conventions - and even the habit of some people to go “room-surfing” looking for people that'll let them crash in some random hotel room - this is especially relevant. CHOOSE YOUR FRIENDS VERY, VERY WELL, especially before you share a hotel room with them! Your friends also have keycards to your rooms; their poor judgment might well put you in danger. Conversely they might just be ignorant; if you see trouble developing and they don't, SAY SOMETHING!

One problem unique to conventions is the aforementioned cheeto-dusted CHUD. Bluntly put, anime conventions attract a Particular Element in undue proportion; people who have little to no grasp of social niceties and boundaries. This is the source of Problems, especially when said CHUDs zero in on an attractive woman and are unable to pick up on the “no” signals, (up to and including the exact words “please fuck off before I mace you.”) This link addresses said boundaries, and how to defend them in an assertive manner without coming across as aggressive, which might make the problem worse:

http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/assertiveness.html

This entire page is good, but this section on personal space rules is very important. When someone starts to violate those boundaries, they're either testing you, or a cheeto-dusted-CHUD (a CDC, if you will,) who doesn't understand them. Or worse, the former posing as the latter. Either way, they have crossed a boundary you *must* defend. Closer than that boundary and they are positioned to do all sorts of things you'd rather not, and if they assault you it's going to make precious little difference to you if it was deliberate or just extreme autism at work.

This is a good start for addressing a very frequent problem at cons - people who violate personal space, stalk, or even grope women at conventions, sometimes in the middle of a huge, crowded space or even the dealer's hall. As so many “con horror story” threads have detailed, many people are reluctant to shout or react for fear of making a “scene” and being told they're “over-reacting,” or the like. My take is that a boundary you don't defend is nonexistent; but not everyone shares that view. If you're one of them, the best advice I've heard is to travel with friends - you'll have allies and backup right there with you, without having to worry about how bystanders will react one way or the other.

(Aside: this particular situation's not one I'm well-equipped to analyze or discuss; those of you with more knowledge/insight please weigh in so I can improve the quality of this guide.)

With all that said, here's some of my own observations, which seem consistent with all the Professional Advice I've read over the years:

1. Assholes are also cowards and they consider women easy targets. I'm not qualified to contextualize this against the backdrop of institutionalized patriarchy or whatever, it's just something I've seen with my own eyes: shitty people are always, always more likely to start shit with a woman than a man. I noticed it at work, even - customers who'd get nasty with our female co-workers wouldn't say shit to me. One was so pissed at being told he couldn't smoke at a gas station that he threatened to pull a gun on one of them (especially hilarious considering she was behind armored glass with a robbery button at hand.) Why they think they can get away with it, I won't speculate, but they do, and that's all that matters. This is partly because they're knuckle-dragging shit-flinging simians who's model of social interaction has reverted to hooting ape mode, and partly because threat displays (macho man flexing I'mma kick yer ass) are a big part of that mindset, and women are obviously less imposing in that regard.

2. This macho man horseshit cuts both ways - I can't tell you how many morons I've heard opine that an openly-carried pistol will “scare away” bad guys like some sort of fucking magical talisman. That's not how it fucking works. Criminals aren't scared of a gun - they're scared of the person HOLDING it. Someone walking around strapped like Butch Fuckin Cassidy will be challenged, and if he flakes, he will be assaulted. Conversely, someone walking down the street without a weapon visible can make a would-be mugger remember urgent business elsewhere simply by 1. noticing the mugger moving into position and 2. easing a hand into their pocket while said mugger is still thirty feet distant. Do they have a revolver in their pocket, or just their hand? Mugger doesn't want to find out - he's already been made. The frilliest Ita getup on earth can't hide the significance of the person wearing it watching you carefully as they reach into their sequined purse. That's the difference between “easy target” and “definitely not worth the trouble.”

With that said, the willingness to resist means little without something to resist with.

THE TOOLS

There's a LOT of options available, not just pepper spray - chief among them are stun guns, tasers, expandable batons and multi-purpose knives. They all have pros and cons and varying levels of legal hoops to jump through.

TASERS are one of the best options. They can zap an attacker at a distance (before they put a knife into you,) can still function as a stun gun after they've been fired, AND they're legal in 45 out of 50 US states. In most states they're either entirely unregulated, or legal to carry with a Concealed Carry License. They're so widely accepted that even the very few states that ban normal stun guns (such as Michigan) allow you to carry Tasers! The disadvantages are that they're kind of pricey; the cheapest models are 500 buckaroos (average price of a Glock, for reference.) Tasers are easily concealable in a variety of ways (and a variety of cosplay outfits, for that matter), highly effective and NON-LETHAL.

Taser Co. has a chart listing laws and restrictions by state:

http://www.defenseproducts101.com/statestatutesummary_page2.html

PEPPER SPRAY has the advantage of being cheap as hell, available everywhere (even in the hardware checkout lane,) and legal damn near everywhere (in the USA, at least,) but it can easily be the least effective option there is. If you use this, buy two cans and use one in practice - give a tree a few squirts so you can see how the stream flies, how far it goes, etc. Pepper spray can also take several seconds to really kick into full effect; if your attacker has his hands on you already it won't save you from a beating - or worse. It's still a hell of a lot better than nothing, but if you use it, hose them down good (use a small circular motion and aim for the face) and then RUN LIKE HELL. Don't stick around to appreciate the effects. Some states might require an ID/over 18 for sales, so plan for this ahead of time and get your parents/guardians to buy you one ahead of your trip, if you’re younger.

STUN GUNS are pretty damn effective too; one zap will drop pretty much anyone like a rock. They have the same limitations as Tasers when it comes to penetrating thick clothing and most obviously you have to be close to the target - but bear in mind that self-defense happens at close range anyway. The average police shooting happens at a range of nine feet, and the average self-defense shooting at a range of six. Stun Guns can be had very cheaply these days AND they're legal almost fucking everywhere - WITHOUT restrictions:

http://www.stungunbuyersguide.com/stun-gun-laws/

Both these items are also legal to put in your CHECKED luggage if you're flying to the con, and the TSA's highly unlikely to bother you over such purely defensive, non-lethal tools. They're also piss-easy to use for anyone, no training needed.

EXPANDABLE BATONS are highly effective physical weapons, but suffer from legal problems in that they're restricted in many states. They can fold up to a package that fits in your hand, and will telescope out and lock with a nice crisp *snick* when you flick your wrist. Then they become a sturdy metal weighted club that can block attacks, extends your reach far past your own arm, and greatly magnifies the power of your strikes. All this helps keep you out of lethal range of an attacker AND they're far, far less likely to do life-threatening damage compared to a knife.  Strength doesn't matter that much for these; the weighted end and the lever effect greatly magnify your effective force. You don't need (OR want) to kill the bastard, you just need him to stop trying to hurt you, and a few love taps from a baton are very convincing. Unfortunately they're flat-out banned in many states, though some others will allow you to carry one concealed if you have a concealed carry license.However if your go-to option is already an umbrella or something seriously consider one of these - they're cheap as hell; cheap as 20 bucks sometimes.

Here's a rundown of the legality. Be sure to double-check your state laws (and the laws of your favorite convention's state) for yourself, however:

http://weaponlaws.wikidot.com/state-baton-laws

KNIVES are one of the most complex options. Knives are purely offensive weapons; they're very lethal, but offer you literally no defense aside from a good offense and the threat of such. However, because state laws are often moronic, the laws usually make them much more attractive options than almost anything else. For instance, my state (Michigan) makes it easy to get a carry permit for a lethal handgun, and knives are mostly unregulated (if it isn't double-edged, you're good,) but stun guns and batons are banned *entirely* and you need a carry permit just to get a Taser! It's far easier to get *lethal weaponry* in my state than non-lethal. It's fucking crazy, but that's how it is. For that reason, I'll discuss knives.

As I said before, knives are almost entirely offensive weapons. This is mainly because they're SMALL. That makes them easy to hide for surprise attacks, but their lack of reach means you can't keep someone from getting close enough to hurt you. Unlike clubs - which can incapacitate an attacker *without* doing life-threatening harm, even if you break their arm - knives make deep piercing wounds that perforate vital organs. A single stab wound can kill you quicker than a small-caliber handgun round, in fact. They're used by gangs not as “fighting” weapons, but murder weapons.

However knives do have a few big advantages. For starters, they can't be called weapons. Small locking-blade folders are extremely common as mere pocketknives and they don't really raise eyebrows anywhere outside a TSA line. Consider this one:

This little thing is legal almost anywhere. State laws almost always ban:

* Long-ass knives (over 6 inches blade length,)

* “Gravity Knives” (butterfly knives, lingering 70s hysteria,) or any “spring-opening knife” (i.e. switchblades,) though “spring-assisted” (requiring a very small amount of force from your thumb) are legal in most states (this is a technical workaround of the anti-switchblade laws.)

* Anything double-edged or combat-oriented (bowie knives, “dirks, daggers, claymores, Sting, etc.)

Small general-purpose locking-blade folders like that Buck knife? Nobody gives a shit. But guess what? It's every bit as dangerous as any other knife you'll ever see, and if it's all you've got, it's going to make a would-be attacker think thrice. Knives are *scary.* Even better, you don't need some fancy, expensive spring-assist mechanism to draw it quickly - even a simple folder like this with a thumb-stud or thumb-hole and no spring-assist can be flicked open very, very fast as it comes out of your pocket:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tA_sTMXzazM

Knives can be had *cheap,* too - forty bucks gets you a nice “name brand” knife like the Buck knife I linked, but even a cheap-ass potmetal 20 dollar plastic-sided job from the hardware store will do. And pocketknives are very useful tools anyway. The only other tool nearly as useful is a small penlight. You should have both in your purse, IMO (most premeditated attacks happen under cover of night.) And again, these draw very little notice or alarm from police.

Picture related - this is the knife I carry:

As you can see, it's shaped super tacticool and it's pretty much designed with stabbity in mind. It even has the name of Someone Sorta Famous in cursive on the blade... and for all that, I've never had a cop blink at it, because for all the pretense it's effectively identical to that boring, plain, inoffensive Buck knife I linked - and said Buck knife will attract even less remark.

Knives are also psychologically potent - *if* you are willing to use them. Violent people know damn well how lethal knives are, and the Hollywood effect short-sells the potential lethality of clubs compared to knives; so pretty much everyone fears a knife a lot more. But this is only true if you are willing to use it. Without the will to commit to an attack, people tend to just slash and wave a knife wildly, which is mostly ineffective - *stab wounds* are what make knives so dangerous. Street criminals have learned the hard way that a weapon is not dangerous - a person willing to USE a weapon is dangerous. (See my commentary on “open carry” above.) And you might be attacked not by a street criminal, but a cokehead mugger desperate for your next fix - these people will kill you for the twenty dollars in your wallet without hesitation or remorse. You need to be able to follow through; bluffing will not cut it.

Remember that you've been forced to this extremity by your attacker - you cannot make their choices for them, you can only choose for yourself - and you must choose to survive. What it takes for you to survive is the consequence of your attacker's decisions. Commit to protecting your life fully - channel Mikasa.

Hold the knife close to you and THRUST it at the target - not at the center of their body, but to either side (to get between the ribs and puncture a lung.) It's a lot harder to stab through the breastbone. It's a horrific thing to have to discuss, and again, why I'd prefer a baton or a Taser - but if you're fighting for your life, FIGHT WITH EVERYTHING YOU HAVE. You could also go for the face and throat to dissuade them and make then piss off, but if you connect (quite easy) the injuries might be even worse. (If you do this, keep the slashes SHORT. More like little circles in the air at the end of your thrust, not big sweeping motions like you're swinging a sword.) To repeat, KNIVES ARE VERY LETHAL WEAPONS. ONLY USE THEM IF YOU ARE IN FEAR OF YOUR LIFE OR SERIOUS BODILY INJURY. They bear many of the drawbacks of a gun without any of the advantages - but they will frequently be your only legal and accessible option in an emergency.

This site has an excellent run-down of knife laws by state:

http://www.knifeup.com/knife-laws/

THE OBVIOUS OMISSION

There's one glaring omission in this rundown so far - the Rooty Tooty Point 'N Shooty. That omission is deliberate. Everybody - and I do mean everybody - has a right to safety and self-defense, and that includes people who are uncomfortable with firearms. This post is for informing those people that they've got a plethora of options aside from pepper spray and those fucking useless keychain sticks. This thread is NOT for filthy knuckledragging redstate /k/ommandos (like me) to spew gatfacts and dank gadsden flag maymays, and if I even look askance at that, that's all some people will see. There *is* a lot of good advice to be dispensed on that topic to those interested, but I'll save that for a separate post for aforementioned reasons.

[imagibunny]

*every other emoji* tell me things!!!

jknJKDF ELLE I’M LEGALLY OBLIGATED TO YEET YOU /j (took out ones i already answered)

📃 what is the plot of your hyperfixation? and is it a movie, game, show, etc? 📌 how did you find your hyperfixation? 

tlkoe (aka The Last Kids On Earth) is a book series + netflix series about a bunch of middle schoolers (Jake Sullivan, Quint Baker, June Del Toro, and Dirk Savage) surviving the monster apocalypse after it destroys their hometown of wakefield

i Originally found it because netflix said “hey you watched daybreakers, you might like this!” and like an idiot i said “HELL YEAH” and the rest is history.

✨ what draws you towards your hyperfixation? what is interesting about it? 

THE FOUND FAMILY ASPECT,,,,this show hits you HARD in the emotions and i’m??? soft.

🎶 if your hyperfixation has songs/an ost, what is your favorite song from it?

WOULD YOU BELIEVE I MADE THE THEME SONG MY RINGTONE CAUSE IT JUST. LOWKEY SLAPS.

💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them! 

illegal. i can’t have??? just one??? *gestures to all of the kids* they’re all great you can’t make me chOOSE

🍀 do you have any kins or comfort characters from your hyperfixation? 

I’m Outing Myself As A Jack Sullivan Kinnie But Are We Really Surprised.

💎 are there any fun facts or trivia that you would like to share?

jack’s va is nick wolfhard, finn wolfhards older brother! he’s also the same age as me which is. Scary.

especially during the pissed off!jack episodes at the end of b2 

💢 what do you NOT like about your hyperfixation? is there something you would want to change about it?

not really!! i mean i get Strong second hand embarassment from jack’s early ‘i gotta save june!’ moments but like. i’ve seen the entire show so rewatches Hurt.

the Only thing i would change (okay not. change. more like Deliberately Stated) is that it’s said that quint has autism??? like it’s pretty obvious but they don’t. say it outright and i’m just eGH

[thetickingmonolith]

A Journey To The Shoreline

        I sat there for some time, pondering to myself, my usual glass of whisky resting to my side and cigarette balanced between my lips. The hustle and bustle of my minds thoughts rushing around me, Jack arguing with Magnus, Grey tapping away at the massive console behind me, Atlas and Belladonna discussing the various factors of gossip that flooded the world around me, none of it intriguing me to any great degree. Azel sat atop his perch, within the moon looking down on us all, the titanic figure of Balmorhea resting just beneath the waves, nothing more than a shadow.

        I stood and left them all to bicker and discuss, raising from my chair and wandering through the halls, glass haphazardly swinging in one hand, cigarette in the other. “What is this feeling we have?” I wandered up and down staircases, climbing through cogs and across walkways, not really knowing where I was going or where exact I was, merely wanting to walk and think to myself out loud. “What is the madness that we feel, this worry of anger, of not being able to control ourself. There comes this feeling of worry, of loss? No none of these.” I wandered further and further into the bowels of my creation, about half way down the tower now I stopped to look out of one of the holes in the damaged wall, peering out across the ocean, witnessing the tiny blip on the horizon that I once called home.

        I looked down to see the jagged rocks at the base of the tower and the waves crashing up against them. The faint distant sound of the crash inviting me further down the tower, further into the recesses of my own mind. I wandered, stopping periodically to take a sip of my drink or a drag of my smoke, the groan of the gears around me and creak of the floorboards beneath me. “I can walk and convey it to myself, the fear of reacting badly knowing that I am merely making myself paranoid as I usually do, only this time it is more manifest, why?” I walked and walked, pondering this why…why is this anxiety more manifest, why does it only last a short while yet inflict such tangible pain.

        I came to an old rusted area, where a massive hole in the wall has allowed the spray of the sea to seep in and bring this whole region to a halt. “What were you once? A part of me that thought himself something? An idea that would be proven false? Some part of my mind left to rust out of disuse…uncertainty…” The idea of not knowing the coming events, the concept of being blind in a fog, the fear of what ifs and the anxiety of mere continued existence. The simple act of existence and an odd feeling of being unwelcome…of it being implied I am unwanted part of something…

        I took a sip and sat on the floor, staring up at the cogs of various shapes and sizes…trying to put together the word I was looking for, for it was not unwanted or unwelcome but a similar feeling, but more prolonged…I leaned against the remains of that section of the wall, finishing the last of my whisky, wishing I had brought the bottle with me. “Well where am I to put this then?” staring at the glass as the mental haze began to set in. I heard the faint creak of floorboards in the distance, someone had followed me down here, who? I had little idea, but they would take some time to catch up with me.

        A spray of sea water came in through the hole in the wall and put out my cigarette. I sighed, putting down the glass and reached into my breast pocket, retrieving the packet of cigarettes and the lighter, standing and taking a drag. I nudged the glass with my foot and knocked it over the edge, sending it hurtling onto the jagged rocks below. “Well I’m going to need another one of those before I get back.” I turned to face the staircase where the creaking had come from before to find The Young God walk down them. Needless to say I was quite shocked, he had not made such an appearance in quite some time. “Whyte?” “Yes my dear?” “What are you doing down here? You rarely leave the higher portions of the tower” “Something has been bothering me and I’ve kind of just wandered down here as I was lost in thought” He looked me up and down, I looked a little rough all things considered. “What’s bothering you?” and so began the rambling.

        “Your name comes from a few different sources, however the main item I think about when I look back on your first appearance is the song Young God, in the intro the words Forever cursed in love are the observant, forever a slave to detail.” “I don’t understand” “When we first got to know each other, when we fell asleep on that couch while everyone else had disappeared to sleep elsewhere, we innocently were asleep on a couch. I was struggling with this idea, you were there to help me and talk me through things, despite being so young you had so much knowledge and maturity you saw things people twice my age didn’t…your name is also derived from The Death Of God And The Meaning Of Life by Julian Young, Young’s portal of god fit mine, your outlook on life reflected her idea of the meaning of life, thusly Young’s God, or The Young God.” “Does this have anything to do with me?” “Not really  no, however it does have something to do with what someone said to me…the opening part of Young God by Halsey talks about the Honeymoon phase of a relationship…not after an actual honeymoon but rather the opening of a relationship where it is passionate and fiery but deteriorating in a fashion, like a flame dying out.” “Whyte what are you talking about?” I took a moment to compose myself and placed my hand on his shoulder, “come with me, I was walking to the base of the tower to the shoreline.” He nodded and walked beside me as we set off wandering the halls.

        There was silence between us as we walked for a few minutes, it was of course him that had appeared at this moment all things considered, who else would appear when it came to such feelings. “Your name came to me nearly two years ago and only now do I realise its importance, all this time later…my subconscious has an interesting way of foreshadowing…anyway now that I’ve gathered my thoughts” We stepped onto a staircase, the bottom obscured by a void of shadow, a distant glint marking the bottom. He stopped at the third step. “Don’t worry it will only take a minute and we will be back in the light.” I had stopped and extended a hand to him as we delved deeper into the darkness beckoning him forward. When we reached the bottom he looked much more relieved, if still a little uneasy. “See wasn’t so bad” “Why does the darkness cling to you like a membrane?” I was a little shocked at this for a moment, “It’s complicated, some people walk through the darker parts of themselves, people like me it stays with us a little longer than it should, the world reflects this…like everything in this world it is equally uncertain and meaningful, the details we do not know and we fill in the blanks for reflect ourselves, for example, did you take my hand? Or did I merely beacon you to follow?” “Well I…oh…I can’t remember” “Depending on how you filled in the gap shows a little something about you. The statement in a way contradicted itself so depending on my mood, this memory will be filled in one way or another, come now we must keep pace.”

        “Should the fires fade, should the cinders dim…should the fires fade, silent sigh final hymn” “What?” “They are lyrics from Fires Fade by Miracle of Sound, it’s a song about Dark Souls 3…Dark Souls taught me about overcoming adversity, stepping back and looking at a situation and finding a more effective strategy to tackle it, despite all of the failures I have faced and the obstacles I face naturally as a person I have found myself here pondering this exact question…should the fires fade and the cinders dim…what should I do…” “Whyte is this about Jae?” “No not really, It is no my place to have a hand in that, that friendship survived the worst break up of each of our lives and either he is miserable with me or happy without me, there isn’t much of a choice in that, if that defaults to the usual bullshittery then that took me all of 5 minutes to put to bed…no this is about that feeling I have…mostly should I attend this weekend? He made it quite clear that he did not want me there, that my presence was an issue, and I would understand if it were not for the fact that before there was no mention of it…that and the reference he made to Young God being about abuse, when it is in reality about the fading flame of a relationship, the song he would have wanted was Trouble…which in many respects would confuse me even more than anything else…is that how he views me? Was it a hint? I’m aware that this is that passing feeling of paranoia and anxiety but its only left to come back harder this time…might as well talk about it with someome…”

        “Whyte where is all of this coming from so quickly?” “That moment…just that one…it made me look back on everything and question if I was missing something…was him telling me to find someone else who would reciprocate those romantic feelings a hint? When in and of itself was in part a lie when he would become jealous of others by his own confession…all of this suddenly comes flooding back in a moment and makes me question so much, just the mere mention of such an implication and the ironic mistaken nature of a song…the feeling that he doesn’t want me to merely enjoy the weekend…all of this in less than 24 hours of course it is bound it send me into a self-circling spiral” He stopped and caught me by the shoulder shaking me “Whyte stop this WHYTE LISTEN TO ME…the two of you have survived hell and earth together…you have stood by his side and screwed up beyond imagining and remained his friend above all else, played ignorant to what was happening using you spicy autism burrito idiocy to make him feel less awkward, playing unaware to what you were doing when you knew full well so he felt more comfortable…don’t you get it you are spiralling into this madness now because you are worried your friendship will not survive this when you simply lack the words to talk to him about it, when in reality even if he never knows what turmoil is going on in your head your friendship will survive you idiot…” I didn’t respond and he shoved me to grab my attention, upon contact my mind flashed with a flurry of emotions and we were both consumed with a flash of blinding white fire.

        We stood before a door, light flooding in through the edges, everything else was consumed by darkness, I burst into laughter. “You magnificent son of a bitch you” I slammed my right hand against the door and threw it wide, grabbing him with my left and dragging him out onto the shoreline of the tower. “The Young God lives up to his name” I let go of his hand and stepped forward, walking out along the jagged rocks, “As you once said, everything will be okay in the end, if it’s not okay its not the end.” I climbed farther out onto the rocks, with the sea spray raining down on top of me. “A SONG IS IN ORDER MY FRIEND”  The crash of the waves before me spraying across me in my totality, my suit soaked in salt water.

A snap of my fingers and a flash of fire later, “Tell me, If I give a call,” a massive wave crashed behind me, a G major note beginning the song as I slowly pull the bow across the neck. I slipped slightly against the damp rocks, taking a moment to regain my composure “We’ve been caught up in such trivial things”. Tapping my heels together I step over a rock, getting closer to the water’s edge. “Will we be lovers?” Skipping closer to the shower line and feeling the waters spray wash over me again closer and more intense this time. “Guess it always depends” stepping backwards again the edged of the waves washing over my dress shoes as another crashes down just behind me. “on my on again” slipping on the damp rocks and falling backwards into the water as another wave crashed over me, my bow ripped out of my hands but my violin remaining in my hands, I quickly reached the surface with no fear with my fingers plucking away at the strings, “off again friend”…yes royal’s song is best for the now…

[projectnero]

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: THE SENTINEL

The last person to join our Team, just at the end of 1910, it should be noted that Mr. McCarthy is the most innocent of us all. Despite his skills, most of the team sees him as someone to be protected; this is in large part due to his naivete and ever-growing fondness for his teammates, as well as his ability to endear himself to anyone he meets.

I figured this was one of the more imperative profiles to go ahead and get out there, because Mr. McCarthy, as an extremely empathetic man, serves as the team’s emotional translator. His unique ability to see everyone’s perspective makes him a good storyteller, and I would be lying if I said that he wouldn’t be an asset to the transcription of this project. As such, Mr. McCarthy will be providing incident reports and analyses of interpersonal behavior on the team.

NAME: Siomon Mac Carthaigh

ALIASES: Simon, Mr. McCarthy, Druid, Sentinel, Crybaby, Loverboy, Tree-hugger

AGE: Born 1432

HEIGHT: 6′6″

WEIGHT: 200 lbs.

SPECIES: Enhanced Human (Subspecies: Magic; Divine)

NOTABLE ABILITIES:

Mr. McCarthy is a hyper-sensitive person. While for most people this would be a hindrance in every-day life, Mr. McCarthy’s job as a guardian to those who cannot speak for themselves is only made easier by his aptitude for emotions and stimuli.

Due to Mr. McCarthy’s connections to Abnoba and Cernunnos, he is strengthened whenever connected to the Earth; note that, while in other cases, this would be incredibly restricting due to wording, the Celtic gods are not ones for word puzzles or riddles. Anything made from Earthly materials qualifies as “Earth”, essentially meaning Mr. McCarthy is, for lack of a better term, omniscient. 

We would be absolutely fucked if aliens came to Earth, but otherwise, Mr. McCarthy is a radar, GPS, sonar, AND targeting system all wrapped into one. 

Mr. McCarthy’s magic serves to make him the single best surgeon and combat medic on the team; his high value to the team means the brass is unwilling to send him out directly into the fray, however, so Ms. Agave serves as the field medic, with Mr. Takahashi taking those in dire need of medical attention directly to Battalion to be addressed by Mr. McCarthy. He has never once lost a patient.

Though his abilities are not as extensive as Mr. Kennedy’s, Mr. McCarthy is capable of shifting into a number of different creatures, as is the case with most druids. His favorite forms are the bear, the goat, and the raven.

Mr. McCarthy is somehow capable of siphoning his divine blessings to the team, providing energy, vitality, and strength to each member of the team. To say I’m jealous would be an understatement. If I could spread even a single brain cell, a single DROP of Apollo or Thoth’s great enlightenment to ANY of my team members, we would have taken over the world by now. As it stands, Mr. McCarthy is only to provide blessings for short-term engagements, as one of the side effects of blessing people with Cernunnos’s will is... ah... increased fertility. This means lots of hormones, and the need to breed clouding every person’s better judgement.

Mr. McCarthy’s natural affinity for spirits, plants, and animals has helped his relationship with Ms. Agave immensely, and oftentimes the two bounce off of each other, working as a cohesive unit. Ms. Agave has expressed a potential interest in having her family moved to The Tearmann Grove, a forest in Northern Ireland under Mr. McCarthy’s protection. 

Mr. McCarthy’s increased stamina, strength, endurance, speed, and vitality (we will not mention the fertility part) has helped him to carry out tasks that would normally require the strength of hundreds of men; as it stands, Simon’s addition to the team has meant that Mr. Amos no longer needs to do all of the heavy lifting.

Cernunnos’s blessing has granted Mr. McCarthy massive rams horns that, should he find himself cornered, he can use to gore enemies; not even the strongest armor can stand up to his horns.

Finally, the druidic runes and tattoos inscribed on Mr. McCarthy’s body provide a sort of defense system, should anyone attempt to capture him; touch must be verified and approved by Simon first, otherwise his body will naturally reject any and all contact in a rather... excruciating manner. Imagine going to place your hand on him in one spot and ending up being burned with the fires of a thousand suns, or placing a hand on another rune and feeling the pain of being put to death in an electric chair. His body is a temple, but more or less one of those temples you see in an Indiana Jones movie.

NOTABLE WEAKNESSES:

Simon has an incredibly weak constitution. It is hard to tell what will set him off, but if something is gross or upsetting enough, he will either cry, run away, or vomit. This has made confronting him with problems infuriatingly confusing because on one hand I trust this man to put his hands inside of my guts when they’re falling out, but at the same time he is a child I wish to hug and assure that everything will be alright.

Despite his tolerance for emotions and stimuli, he has been known to be overwhelmed at times, rendering him incapacitated in a multitude of ways for days. During this time, Mr. McCarthy can generally be found laying in bed, trying to read a good book or sleep. The symptoms are very common with those of fatigue and exhaustion.

Simon’s many blessings have the unfortunate side effect of giving him the disposition of a wild animal. Is he capable of reasoning? Yes. Does that mean he is any less bestial? Hell no. I once walked into the common room to see him in his goat form, chewing on a tin can. He stared into my eyes as he swallowed it whole. It was a traumatizing experience.

Simon requires an extensive amount of time for meditation and preparation before a task is to be carried out, and interrupting even one of his chants or incantations is grounds for starting over. In worst case scenarios, interrupting a chant has been known to summon horrible demonic entities. Be fucking careful people.

Simon is averse to violence, as am I. He is not above getting his hands dirty when need be, but that is a last resort. He has described himself as a lover and not a fighter, and despite being the guardian of both this team and his sacred grove, the druid only uses force when all else has failed.

DIAGNOSES:

Hyper-sexuality, due to increased vitality given by Cernunnos.

High-Functioning Autism.

Hyper-Sensitive Persons Disorder.

Empathy.

ADHD.

BACKGROUND:

Hello! Simon here!

There is not much to tell about my family; my father was a Celtic druid and my mother was a Greek acolyte. My twin sister and I followed much of the same route.

Keep in mind when I say “twin”, my sister does not look a thing like me. I am pale, with some tan marks here and there, with the appearance of an Irishman, while my sister has the skin color and complexion of a Central Asian woman. This is how it has always been in our family.

Our names, bodies, appearances are all determined by who we choose as our patron deities. We have been coveted by Gods of every major pantheon; our decision is made when we are 18, and then our bodies change to match.

I was seduced by Cernunnos and Abnubo, and so when I made the decision to serve them, I was given rams horns, suns for eyes, and a pale complexion with long red hair. I chose the name Siomon Mac Carthaigh. She chose the name Minerva Stanis. She was deadset on serving Athena ever since she was 12.

I headed out into the world, emigrating to Ireland to begin planting and caring for my Sanctuary. A Grove where creatures of all kind could live in peace. It is my only purpose in this life. I guard it with my life.

Sometimes I write to Minerva, who owns a small book shop in Athens that she uses as a front for her alchemy and witchcraft. Sometimes she writes back, tells me about all the battles she had seen with Athena. Sometimes I smirk to myself. She never wanted to be a champion for glory, never wanted to fight, and she chose Athena simply because she would give her freedom; and yet Athena had just as many enemies as the next God.

It ended up that I had the most peaceful and relaxing job of the two of us. I hang out with animals, tattoo my body, and tend to plants. At least I did.

In the early 1900s, I received a divination from my patron Gods for the first time in 30 years. It was time for me to spread their will and serve alongside mortals. I was told about this project, despite it barely being a thought in Dr. Fero’s head. I sought them out, but by the time I arrived, Dr. Fero had already found everyone else.

Now I listen to people’s problems and provide emotional support. Still not as bad as fighting Manticores.

Poor, poor Minerva.

[thegooddoctorsthoughts]

A Journey To The Shoreline

         I sat there for some time, pondering to myself, my usual glass of whisky resting to my side and cigarette balanced between my lips. The hustle and bustle of my minds thoughts rushing around me, Jack arguing with Magnus, Grey tapping away at the massive console behind me, Atlas and Belladonna discussing the various factors of gossip that flooded the world around me, none of it intriguing me to any great degree. Azel sat atop his perch, within the moon looking down on us all, the titanic figure of Balmorhea resting just beneath the waves, nothing more than a shadow.

         I stood and left them all to bicker and discuss, raising from my chair and wandering through the halls, glass haphazardly swinging in one hand, cigarette in the other. “What is this feeling we have?” I wandered up and down staircases, climbing through cogs and across walkways, not really knowing where I was going or where exact I was, merely wanting to walk and think to myself out loud. “What is the madness that we feel, this worry of anger, of not being able to control ourself. There comes this feeling of worry, of loss? No none of these.” I wandered further and further into the bowels of my creation, about half way down the tower now I stopped to look out of one of the holes in the damaged wall, peering out across the ocean, witnessing the tiny blip on the horizon that I once called home.

         I looked down to see the jagged rocks at the base of the tower and the waves crashing up against them. The faint distant sound of the crash inviting me further down the tower, further into the recesses of my own mind. I wandered, stopping periodically to take a sip of my drink or a drag of my smoke, the groan of the gears around me and creak of the floorboards beneath me. “I can walk and convey it to myself, the fear of reacting badly knowing that I am merely making myself paranoid as I usually do, only this time it is more manifest, why?” I walked and walked, pondering this why…why is this anxiety more manifest, why does it only last a short while yet inflict such tangible pain.

         I came to an old rusted area, where a massive hole in the wall has allowed the spray of the sea to seep in and bring this whole region to a halt. “What were you once? A part of me that thought himself something? An idea that would be proven false? Some part of my mind left to rust out of disuse…uncertainty…” The idea of not knowing the coming events, the concept of being blind in a fog, the fear of what ifs and the anxiety of mere continued existence. The simple act of existence and an odd feeling of being unwelcome…of it being implied I am unwanted part of something…

         I took a sip and sat on the floor, staring up at the cogs of various shapes and sizes…trying to put together the word I was looking for, for it was not unwanted or unwelcome but a similar feeling, but more prolonged…I leaned against the remains of that section of the wall, finishing the last of my whisky, wishing I had brought the bottle with me. “Well where am I to put this then?” staring at the glass as the mental haze began to set in. I heard the faint creak of floorboards in the distance, someone had followed me down here, who? I had little idea, but they would take some time to catch up with me.

         A spray of sea water came in through the hole in the wall and put out my cigarette. I sighed, putting down the glass and reached into my breast pocket, retrieving the packet of cigarettes and the lighter, standing and taking a drag. I nudged the glass with my foot and knocked it over the edge, sending it hurtling onto the jagged rocks below. “Well I’m going to need another one of those before I get back.” I turned to face the staircase where the creaking had come from before to find The Young God walk down them. Needless to say I was quite shocked, he had not made such an appearance in quite some time. “Whyte?” “Yes my dear?” “What are you doing down here? You rarely leave the higher portions of the tower” “Something has been bothering me and I’ve kind of just wandered down here as I was lost in thought” He looked me up and down, I looked a little rough all things considered. “What’s bothering you?” and so began the rambling.

         “Your name comes from a few different sources, however the main item I think about when I look back on your first appearance is the song Young God, in the intro the words Forever cursed in love are the observant, forever a slave to detail.” “I don’t understand” “When we first got to know each other, when we fell asleep on that couch while everyone else had disappeared to sleep elsewhere, we innocently were asleep on a couch. I was struggling with this idea, you were there to help me and talk me through things, despite being so young you had so much knowledge and maturity you saw things people twice my age didn’t…your name is also derived from The Death Of God And The Meaning Of Life by Julian Young, Young’s portal of god fit mine, your outlook on life reflected her idea of the meaning of life, thusly Young’s God, or The Young God.” “Does this have anything to do with me?” “Not really  no, however it does have something to do with what someone said to me…the opening part of Young God by Halsey talks about the Honeymoon phase of a relationship…not after an actual honeymoon but rather the opening of a relationship where it is passionate and fiery but deteriorating in a fashion, like a flame dying out.” “Whyte what are you talking about?” I took a moment to compose myself and placed my hand on his shoulder, “come with me, I was walking to the base of the tower to the shoreline.” He nodded and walked beside me as we set off wandering the halls.

         There was silence between us as we walked for a few minutes, it was of course him that had appeared at this moment all things considered, who else would appear when it came to such feelings. “Your name came to me nearly two years ago and only now do I realise its importance, all this time later…my subconscious has an interesting way of foreshadowing…anyway now that I’ve gathered my thoughts” We stepped onto a staircase, the bottom obscured by a void of shadow, a distant glint marking the bottom. He stopped at the third step. “Don’t worry it will only take a minute and we will be back in the light.” I had stopped and extended a hand to him as we delved deeper into the darkness beckoning him forward. When we reached the bottom he looked much more relieved, if still a little uneasy. “See wasn’t so bad” “Why does the darkness cling to you like a membrane?” I was a little shocked at this for a moment, “It’s complicated, some people walk through the darker parts of themselves, people like me it stays with us a little longer than it should, the world reflects this…like everything in this world it is equally uncertain and meaningful, the details we do not know and we fill in the blanks for reflect ourselves, for example, did you take my hand? Or did I merely beacon you to follow?” “Well I…oh…I can’t remember” “Depending on how you filled in the gap shows a little something about you. The statement in a way contradicted itself so depending on my mood, this memory will be filled in one way or another, come now we must keep pace.”

         “Should the fires fade, should the cinders dim…should the fires fade, silent sigh final hymn” “What?” “They are lyrics from Fires Fade by Miracle of Sound, it’s a song about Dark Souls 3…Dark Souls taught me about overcoming adversity, stepping back and looking at a situation and finding a more effective strategy to tackle it, despite all of the failures I have faced and the obstacles I face naturally as a person I have found myself here pondering this exact question…should the fires fade and the cinders dim…what should I do…” “Whyte is this about Jae?” “No not really, It is no my place to have a hand in that, that friendship survived the worst break up of each of our lives and either he is miserable with me or happy without me, there isn’t much of a choice in that, if that defaults to the usual bullshittery then that took me all of 5 minutes to put to bed…no this is about that feeling I have…mostly should I attend this weekend? He made it quite clear that he did not want me there, that my presence was an issue, and I would understand if it were not for the fact that before there was no mention of it…that and the reference he made to Young God being about abuse, when it is in reality about the fading flame of a relationship, the song he would have wanted was Trouble…which in many respects would confuse me even more than anything else…is that how he views me? Was it a hint? I’m aware that this is that passing feeling of paranoia and anxiety but its only left to come back harder this time…might as well talk about it with someome…”

         “Whyte where is all of this coming from so quickly?” “That moment…just that one…it made me look back on everything and question if I was missing something…was him telling me to find someone else who would reciprocate those romantic feelings a hint? When in and of itself was in part a lie when he would become jealous of others by his own confession…all of this suddenly comes flooding back in a moment and makes me question so much, just the mere mention of such an implication and the ironic mistaken nature of a song…the feeling that he doesn’t want me to merely enjoy the weekend…all of this in less than 24 hours of course it is bound it send me into a self-circling spiral” He stopped and caught me by the shoulder shaking me “Whyte stop this WHYTE LISTEN TO ME…the two of you have survived hell and earth together…you have stood by his side and screwed up beyond imagining and remained his friend above all else, played ignorant to what was happening using you spicy autism burrito idiocy to make him feel less awkward, playing unaware to what you were doing when you knew full well so he felt more comfortable…don’t you get it you are spiralling into this madness now because you are worried your friendship will not survive this when you simply lack the words to talk to him about it, when in reality even if he never knows what turmoil is going on in your head your friendship will survive you idiot…” I didn’t respond and he shoved me to grab my attention, upon contact my mind flashed with a flurry of emotions and we were both consumed with a flash of blinding white fire.

         We stood before a door, light flooding in through the edges, everything else was consumed by darkness, I burst into laughter. “You magnificent son of a bitch you” I slammed my right hand against the door and threw it wide, grabbing him with my left and dragging him out onto the shoreline of the tower. “The Young God lives up to his name” I let go of his hand and stepped forward, walking out along the jagged rocks, “As you once said, everything will be okay in the end, if it’s not okay its not the end.” I climbed farther out onto the rocks, with the sea spray raining down on top of me. “A SONG IS IN ORDER MY FRIEND”  The crash of the waves before me spraying across me in my totality, my suit soaked in salt water.

A snap of my fingers and a flash of fire later, “Tell me, If I give a call,” a massive wave crashed behind me, a G major note beginning the song as I slowly pull the bow across the neck. I slipped slightly against the damp rocks, taking a moment to regain my composure “We’ve been caught up in such trivial things”. Tapping my heels together I step over a rock, getting closer to the water’s edge. “Will we be lovers?” Skipping closer to the shower line and feeling the waters spray wash over me again closer and more intense this time. “Guess it always depends” stepping backwards again the edged of the waves washing over my dress shoes as another crashes down just behind me. “on my on again” slipping on the damp rocks and falling backwards into the water as another wave crashed over me, my bow ripped out of my hands but my violin remaining in my hands, I quickly reached the surface with no fear with my fingers plucking away at the strings, “off again friend”…yes royal’s song is best for the now…

[prorevenge]

Teacher tells me I am lying about my mother having cancer.

This is a long one with TLDR at bottom

This was in my grade 11 year of high school, My computer class had a year long substitute teacher because our amazing teacher was out for a year working on a government contract. Our previous teacher was outstanding. He had six different classes in our classroom all happening at the same time which were: computer repair, programming lvl1, programming lvl2, networking lvl1, networking lvl2a and lvl2b. He would give a lecture for each of the classes on a specific day of the week, programming on Monday, repair on Tuesday and so on, we would all work in our own groups and everything went quite well.

The next year came around and I found out that we had a sub for the year I had two back to back blocks in this class cause I was doing two courses, I wandered up to the class to see what kind of teacher we were dealing with, mainly interested because i was almost certain whoever they found did not have the credentials to teach at least half of those classes. The new teacher was a foreign woman that none of us have ever heard of before, for the purpose of the story we will call her Mrs. S.

I went and found my friends to tell them what I had seen. We were all optimistic cause from a very short conversation she seemed quite informed and had a good background.

It didn't last long, on the first day of class Mrs. S introduced herself as a programming teacher who had been in school for four years. She went on to tell us about her programming experience in Microsoft Excel and Microsoft Access. She then told us that the programming students would not be doing the Java and C++ course we had signed up for and would instead be doing database and Excel because those are what she learned and she said and i quote 'they will be more useful than C and The Java'. She also went on to suspend all at lunch clubs because she didn't think high school students could be trusted with computers alone.

Understandably some of us were quite upset about that considering that we came there to program. She also did not give the repair people or the networking people any kind of support and completely stopped their lectures as well, preferring to let them figure it out themselves and 'self teach' without giving any of the resources to do so and occasionally throwing out a test pre-written by the last teacher for her.

This continued for about two weeks till one day she came in and said quite irritated that we would actually be doing 'The Java' now unless we wanted to keep doing database, so we switched to Java and she basically left us out to dry from there. because she wasn't teaching Database anymore she came to harass people in computer repair. First she told us the shop room was too messy and made us throw out 90% of our training workstations and equipment because they were not important in her eyes. Equipment that did not belong to the school but actually belonged to the other teacher. We took home what we could steal for safe keeping but she did end up throwing out a few thousand in equipment.

Then she started imposing stupid rules on us such as;

"You can't have the computer on while you are troubleshooting inside cause you could electrocute yourself"

Or

"You don't need the case open to troubleshoot motherboard lights"

Or my personal favorite and the most scary

"maybe you should change the power supply to 240v if you aren't getting enough power"

We followed most of her stupid requests as much as we could because she threatened to lock us out of the lab room and give us only textbook work if we didn't. Needless to say it was a challenging time. One of the students in the networking area got fed up and started doing up his own course work and lecturing to us so that we could at least get some kind of use out of the courses. To his credit it was all very good but Mrs. S had the balls to force him into doing it from there on out and then turn around and give him low grades for not getting his own work done on time.

A few months of this very uneasy balance go by and my mother comes down with Colon cancer. I have already had a handful of other family members suddenly taken from me by cancer so understandably this is a very stressful time. I was joking with my friends and trying to not break down over the whole thing. I had a very unstable laptop running Linux that would crash if looked at funny and had a horrible habit of corrupting the OS when the battery died because the reserve shutdown sensor didn't work anymore (battery always read 0% but would go for an hour or two). while I was working on the school desktop computer I had a few pages open that I was taking notes in and a facebook tab so I could keep in contact with my mother cause she was in surgery and I was waiting for her to come out. I look over and the teacher is snooping through my laptop opening folders and closing windows and eventually pushes the power button in till it shuts down (which also usually corrupts anything I was doing). The following happened.

M: What the hell do you think you are doing?

S: You shouldn't be on facebook or writing notes on a personal computer during class time, especially when your grades are slipping.

Thanks for bringing that up in front of everyone...

M: That gives you no right to touch my stuff! You better hope you didn't just corrupt everything! this laptop breaks easy.

S: Then you shouldn't have it out during class, keep that tone up and I'll see you get a detention.

At this point I am trying just to keep calm because if I get too emotional I have a tendency to explode. This is often made worse because of my mild autism. I took a second replied in a calmer tone.

M: I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time at home right now... My mother was diagnosed with Colon Cancer and I am waiting to hear back.

And this is the part which REALLY set me off.

S: You don't look like a kid who's mother has cancer, quit making sob story excuses.

are you FUCKING kidding me‽

It took every fiber of my body not to stand up and slap the bitch right there. I gave her the dirtiest thousand yard stare I think I have ever done while also trying to not burst out crying. I spoke to nobody for the rest of the day till I got home, people kept asking if I was okay and I ignored everyone. My mother was out of the hospital and home by the time I got there. I broke down crying and told her about my day, her face was comforting but you could see the fire of an angry woman behind her brown eyes. She told me not to worry and that it'd be okay.

A few weeks passed and I was called into the office for a one on one parent teacher conference someone forgot to tell me about. There were all the teachers I had that year, good and bad, my Learning assistance teacher the VP and the principal herself. They told me that we were there to discuss my grade slippage as soon as my mother came. My mother was about 10 minutes late, leaving me to awkwardly sit with all these people. She comes in and is all smiles,

M: Sorry I am Late! I got held late at the hospital.

Someone but i'm not sure who asked her why she was at the hospital and if everything is okay. My mother answered in her happy way.

M: I was just getting my C̭̟̦̤̕A̰̣̰̼Ń͕̝̬C̵͕E̯R̥̫͇̹̳͝ checked on, Because I have cancer.

The room went cold and her voice seemingly dripped with blood when she said it, my computers teacher went pale and everyone in the room was giving a confused 'what on earth did you do' look

My mother proceeded to relay me coming crying home about how I was treated to everyone present while Mrs: S tried to become one with the wall of the small meeting room. She kept it short but to paraphrase added the following.

M: How dare you say something so careless to my son, I hope you are ashamed and I hope you don't get invited back for another year.

She then returned back to her normal happy self and discussed my grades like nothing happened whilst half the teachers were still trying to figure out what just happened and told them that now she was out of the hospital my grades should improve again. I just sat quiet the whole time and tried to suppress bursting out laughing.

After that day she never directly spoke to me again, had instructions relayed through other people or gave them to the class as a whole, she did her damnedest to be nowhere near me and say nothing to me. My grades improved quite a bit and the year ended with me passing.

Mrs. S was previously offered a job at the school as a secondary computer teacher but after all the trouble the job was pulled back. The next year when our first computer teacher returned he was furious to learn most of his equipment and personal books had been thrown out, we returned the things that we snagged during the purge but he still lost a few thousand in personal teaching stuff. The school payed him back with 10,000 but he says he lost so much more than that in time and pre-set hand made equipment. We told him all about the horror show and he gave us all an extensive test normally given at the end of the year which the vast majority of us failed, we ended up redoing all the computer courses from the previous year because in his words she didn't even teach us the basics. that sub can no longer teach in this or the neighboring districts

TLDR:

Shitty year long sub fucks us all over, tells me i am faking my mother's cancer and destroys another teachers personal property. Gets ripped into by mother with all my teachers and VP and P present. looses opportunity to work in my district or any surrounding for being unprofessional and not knowing her subject forcing everyone in her class to retake the next year.

(source) (story by flanigomik)