#he hears the ‘in this profession death is normal’ speech one too many times

[worstloki]

AU where instead of massacring a village and running off to start a cult Geto declares he’s taking a mental health break and disappears for a while and that’s the basis of his fugitive status (and the kfc breakup when he won’t return properly). He’s treated as a big threat to jujutsu society bc he’s got low attendance

[reidsnose]

Window

overview: reader accidentally falls out of a window while having a late night talk with spencer (loosely based on the song: home by edward shapre and the magnetic zeros)

genre: angst? FLUFF

warning: blood, head injury, hospital visit, overdramatic reader thinks shes dying

a/n: i really really dont know if yall will like this but i do and i think its cute so please lmk what u think ab it :)

masterlist

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Spencer knew it wasn't the safest thing in the world. you did too. but something about sitting on the outside window ledge together, talking and laughing, was far too tempting of an offer to pass up. and besides, it was just over 6 feet off of the ground! whats the worst that could happen?

and so you sat, shoulders smushed together so you could both fit. a blanket wrapped around you both, keeping the cool night air locked out. however, you were so close together (and so flushed) that even without the blanket you'd both still be warm.

you adored nights like this with him, thinking to yourself how you got lucky enough to call him your best friend. to anyone else, it was obvious you two were deeply yet obliviously, painfully in love. you watched as he retold a memory he had of the two of you, eyes widening and hands peeking through the blanket to gesture wildly with each sentence. though you were listening to the story, growing more and more fond of the memory now that it was being told from his perspective, you couldn't help but be distracted by him. his essence. his being. he was...intoxicating.

and then he cut to the punch line and looked to you for a reaction, watching beauty radiate from you as you threw your head back and laughed. he didn't even realize how funny it was until he saw how hard you were laughing. and then you snorted, which of course caused you to laugh more. with tears nearly coming out of your eyes, you wrapped your hands around your aching stomach, trying to control your laughter and completely forgetting that you needed your hands to keep you balanced on the window.

he took you in, a tranquility like no other filling his heart.

and then it happen.

in slow motion he watched you lose your balance, unable to catch his grasp as you fell towards the ground outside. fear coursed through his veins as he tried to calculate every possible out come. and then suddenly time was back to normal, and you were on the floor, a fresh cut on your head.

without missing a beat he jumped out after you, landing far more gracefully than you had.

you felt him lift your head into his lap, barely hearing his muffled words. you nodded when he asked if you could hear him for the fourth time. and then you felt some blood trickle down your face. and you did not do well with seeing your own blood.

that was it. you were gonna die. you never told him how you felt and you were going to die. you could even feel death pulling on your eyelids.

in reality, you had landed on your hip and your head hit a pointy rock. it felt like hell but medically you would be just fine. it looked a lot worse than it actually was, head injuries produce far more blood than other body parts.

spencer knew this as he peeled the cardigan off of his shoulders, bunching it up and applying pressure to your wound.

he picked you up bridal style, trying hard to cradle your head at the same time. he was beyond relieved at how relatively minor this was going to be. you would heal, and you would be ok. he got to his car and gently placed you in the passenger seat before running to the drivers side and taking off as fast as he possible could.

"Spencer," you rasped.

"don't talk very much right now. don't worry i'm going to get you to the hospital just stay awake for me you've probably got a concussion." he explained, looking over worriedly.

"im going to die." you told him, your brain feeling foggy from seeing your own blood.

"no you wont. i promise you wont die."

you went on telling him again and again how you would die and how the team shouldn't cry for you. and he patiently explained every time that you would be ok. and as he carried you into the ER you took one look at the cardigan that had rested against your forehead and convinced yourself 110% that you were on your death bed.

so it was now or never.

"Spencer before i die i want you to know that i love you. i always have. i just had to get it off my chest before i left this world with you still in it." you blurted as the doctors began to take you away.

he stood there, mouth agape at your confession.

"she is not going to die." one of the doctors reassured Spencer before turning on his heels and jogging to catch up with the rest of them.

it had to have been the loss of blood. or maybe a concussion fogged your thinking. or maybe he's in shock and he's hearing things. because there is no possible way that that just happened.

and so he sat in the waiting room for nearly an hour while they stitched up your head, nervously tapping his foot to match the pace of his racing thoughts.

he was thinking through every single moment the two of you had ever shared, wondering if-hoping that there was some truth to your confession, when they called out your name. he shot up faster than he ever had before, even getting a little light headed at the sudden quick stance.

he walked in to see you sitting up, drinking some apple juice that the nurses had brought you. and even then, in a hospital bed with half a dozen stitches in your forehead, you looked more beautiful than ever. he was astonished. absolutely astonished at just how radiant you were. your eyes twinkles as you smiled at him.

"so false alarm.. i didnt die." you joked, trying to hide your embarrassment, handing him a hospital issued jello.

"im so glad youre ok. you know i told you from the start we shouldnt have sat on the window," he chuckled, eyes feeling teary for a reason unknown to him.

"i know i know, you're always right." you giggled a little before wincing in pain from it.

his hand came up and lightly brushed your hair back, soothing you so much your eyes immediately fluttered closed. he had to bring it up, he had to know.

"did you mean it?" he asked.

you tried to control your heart rate while you played it dumb, "well yeah i really did think i was going to die."

"thats not what i meant."

"i know." you admitted. "yes. i meant it. i still mean it and if thats weird for you and you want to leave i completely understand-"

he cut you off by pressing his lips to your own, soft but passionate, tasting of jello.

it was a better profession of love than any speech he could try to make. because regardless of how many big words he used, it wouldn't be enough. not to mention that being around you makes his brain turn into mush, rendering it completely useless.

your heart rate monitor started going absolutely wild, beeping quickly and erratically. you both started laughing into the kiss, reluctantly pulling away. euphoria coursed through your veins, two lovesick bozos in the hospital.

you two talked for a little, buzzed from the kiss., smiling like a couple of idiots. but you were happy. sitting in the hospital with a cracked open head and you were still happy. because Spencer was there. and he makes you happy.

after talking to the doctor and a phone call with hotch, you were told to take two weeks off of work. spencer insisted that he go home early every day so he can come over and take care of you. and that was fiinnneee by you.

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ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

[danganronpa-ea]

Chapter 5 Survivors Free Time Events part 2

So counting this is spoiler and if you haven’t read chapter 5, then please do ready them before you continue on this, this is a warning!

A world where those that didn’t make it or just couldn’t survive the cruel world get a chance here, A world where things are right… A world where death never happen.

 I found myself in the garden once again, which now I got 4 buttons left which I decided that maybe I should start with the one I never got to talk to properly… Doi-san.

 As pressing the button, he appears which he was looking around, however he took notice of me pretty quickly. “Fu-Fuji-chan, your alive?” He asked surprise which I shook my head. “Sadly not, I’ve passed on but I have sometime to talk with you all.” I told him which he looks down.

 “Oh… I really hope that you weren’t but, even then I will try and be useful so I don’t make the same mistake again, will find Haku and have Future Foundation deal with him.” He promised which I nodded.

 It was a good thing to hear that honestly…

 Katou Doi’s Free Time Events!

 As then me and the mascot boy began to talk about various things and even telling me some characters he has dress up before which he seems quite festive in the activity, which is nice.

 I feel myself and Doi-san grew closer so that’s pretty nice…

 As then Doi-san gave me a huge wave to me. “Oh, Fufu-chan! I guess you wanted to speak with me? I’m glad to have those be curious of me.” He spoke with excitement which I smile a bit.

 “Well, your talent is a really interesting one – the fact that you mostly wear a costume and then your consider an Ultimate is pretty interesting.” I brought which then Doi-san huffed as he pointed his paw at me. “You should not be dismissing our hard work! As you may know, we mascot take our roles pretty seriously.” He spoke like as if I’m speaking with a professional.

 As such I gave a sheepish smile. “Well okay, I mean they are pretty adorable and I’ve seen them around during my public speeches, but that’s… unique.” I’ve seen them before but never really pay much attention to them sadly.

 As then Doi-san pointed up his paws. “The thing is, we mascots have to follow certain guidelines and rules when we are mascots! Such as a love for the local area or hometown, act out and make awkward movements! Which means we have to be flexiable! In fact, this costume of mine that I’m wearing is called ‘Kuma-kun’ which I live in the Kumamoto Prefecture.” He explained which I try to recall ‘Kuma-kun’, I mostly saw a bear and…

 I snapped my finger, remembering the creature. “Ah right, Kuma-kun is that one character I’ve seen in video games, shirts and is advertise pretty heavily.” I spoke, seeing as I remember which Doi-san look worry. “It surprises me you didn’t recognize me when at all, Fufu-chan – counting that my character is pretty well known.” He spoke as if proud of this.

 “So anyway, if you’re that famous – is it how you got your talent?” I asked which he shook his head. “Nope, I remember winning a contest back around 2012 at this costume contest which got me my letter to Hope’s Peak and even a lot of money and advertisement – I’ve even appear on TV with pretty girls!” He spoke as if proudly of this achievement.

 Well, I guess girls would find his costume really cute if anything and he doesn’t seem to have dark intentions.

 Katou Doi, Ultimate Mascot FTE: 1/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As then me and the mascot boy began to talk about various things and even telling me some characters he has dress up before which he seems quite festive in the activity, which is nice.

 I feel myself and Doi-san grew closer so that’s pretty nice…

 I then took out a sewing kit which I gave to Doi-san. “Wowie wowie, I got a gift from a pretty girl! Thank you~!” He thank me as then he puts it away.

 As then I had another question to wonder. “Say Katou-san, I had been curious-.” “Eh? Why call me by surname – just call me ‘Kuma-kun’ or ‘Doi-kun’ I don’t mind!” He spoke which I blinked then nodded.

 “Okay then, Doi-san… But seeing as this is a profession for you – I get a feeling you visited quite a few places that relate to mascots, right?” I asked which he nodded. “Oh yeah! I visited Festivals, Contest for Yuru Chara, Hospitals quite a lot actually, other schools and even overseas before.” He say as recalling the places which I was surprise by this.

 He really seems pretty busy to get his character’s name out there. “So then, did you make Kuma-kun yourself?” I asked which he nodded. “Yeppi yeppi! I even came up with the idea with my best friend who was at the hospital and bringing him homework – he even help me with some design choices.” He told me which I smiled a bit as then I had heard America has mascots.

 “So then, what about Mascots from the US? I do recall seeing a few in the West – how were they?” I asked which then he gesture a thinking. “I mean, some were okay like the time our team went against the US at baseball, but I went to other sports too – even met the team manager a few times who I heard is going to Hope’s Peak! But as for how they are in the US… I can’t say I hold a high opinion of them.” He told me which I blinked.

 I guess it would make sense the Ultimate Mascot would have certain standards which he gestures a worried look. “I mean the ones at the park are okay since they have to be in character but there are ones that I can’t help but feel annoyed with them…” He spoke, which I try to recall what they were.

 >Behavior

- posers

-cheaply made costumes

 “I’m not really knowledgeable with this stuff but, Mascots on the street?” I asked which he gave a nod. “Yep, I can’t feel anything from them, heck I even had to do research about the character I’m performing as to get a better grasp of there character.” He spoke which I was surprise to learn that part about him.

 “Oh, you like cartoons…?” I asked which he gave a nod. “Well yes, especially if they have a cute animal that has a mascot so I would know how to act exactly. I mean that’s also part of the job if I have to act like any other character outside of Kuma-kun.” He explained.

 So seems that Doi-san takes his career as a mascot pretty seriously, I sure learn quite a bit about him from this conversation…

 Katou Doi, Ultimate Mascot FTE: 2/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As then me and the mascot boy began to talk about various things and even telling me some characters he has dress up before which he seems quite festive in the activity, which is nice.

 I feel myself and Doi-san grew closer so that’s pretty nice…

 I took out this game station that I’m sure gamers would love as handing it to him. “Oh hey, is it for me? Thank you so much!” He thanked which then suddenly Doi-san didn’t seem as happy which well… I guess makes sense what happen with Tomohiro-san.

 “…So, you and Tomohiro-san, both of you were childhood friends?” I asked which he nodded. “Yes, he is… Tomo-kun was honestly someone I would consider to being my best friend for a very long time, actually… he was the one that did accept me.” He spoke, seeming to speak more normally which surprise me.

 As then he still felt guilty for the whole thing. “I… still feel sorry for acting out like I did, I mean I didn’t know he was going to kill or even knew of Chikao-kun’s allergies.” He stated which I shook my head. “No, it’s fine – I don’t any of you knew of it. Actually, we should have told all of you and I think Tomohiro-san did not mean to if you ask me.” I explained but then I thought over one of us statement.

 “So… when he mentions that he didn’t have many friends because he was in the hospital so often, you mention he was the only one to accept you.” I asked which he blinked then he looks down.

 “Ah right, well… I tend to mask how I really feel quite a bit and not many people would know what I’m like so I find it easier to fake a personality, y’know.” He explained which then he pulled his mask over his head. “Plus I don’t hate my current personality, just that… I sometimes have to use it to protect myself from people, actually people tend to like me when I fake it…” He stated which I was surprise.

 So Doi-san tends to fake a personality and not be his real self around others. “So… is this your personality right now?” I asked which I nodded. “Yes, I guess people would be surprise to hear I speak normally and talk normally, but still… I will try and figure a way to be useful from here on out.” He promises as then he thought it over.

 “I mean… making meals should be easy~.” He stated which I was surprise. “Wait, you can cook?” I asked which he nodded. “Yep, I’ve done it for as long as I remember since my parents aren’t around very often at home, I end up letting myself in usually but I think my parents have work and say as long as I have good grades then they don’t care what I do – usually.” He spoke which surprise.

 It seems that the actual Doi-san seems more calmer and not like the persona he was displaying and seems that his parents have a very ‘hands-off’ approach to things.

 Katou Doi, Ultimate Mascot FTE: 3/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As then me and the mascot boy began to talk about various things and even telling me some characters he has dress up before which he seems quite festive in the activity, which is nice.

 I feel myself and Doi-san grew closer so that’s pretty nice…

 After that I took out a bottle of water which he smiled. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to use this actually so thanks.” He spoke as he put it away.

 As then I started to think over what to ask regarding Doi-san himself. “So, since you mention that you weren’t pretty close with your parents, then how was school?” I asked which he tilted his head to the side.

 “Huh? Oh well school was fine; I never really was bullied or popular – actually I blended into the crowd pretty easily that people are usually surprise when I told them that I was in the bear costume – it reminds me of that on super hero that just has to put on glasses and no one recognizes him.” He spoked as laughing a bit sheepishly.

 It was… oddly surprising that Doi-san seems to be speak normally. “You don’t seem bother by blending in and people only knowing you for your fake personality.” I asked which he look to the ground. “Well like say, I don’t think many people would like my usual personality and really, faking it is better then being honest.” He told me, like as if it was certainty.

 “Well, why is that?” I asked which he went silent. “Why?” “I mean, there has to be a reason why you fake a personality so often and even pretend to be something you’re not – is there a reason.” I told him which he went silent.

 As then he pulled his mask off which I got to see his action he had this frown as he spoke. “The thing is, I tend to suffer with chronic depression and really bad autism where I had repeated things quite a bit, which… I did get help when I was little – actually I tend to start fights with other kids which is for how I look or some other petty reason which got me nearly kick out of school once and worse it’s usually due to the other kid starting it.” He spoke which did surprise me.

 “Wait, you have depression? I never really notice that at all…” I asked which he shrugged. “Well, I just don’t like bringing it up, I do have medications for it along with knowing how to take care of it and… maybe even sometimes where I’m too shy to speak of my love life at times.” He mumbled which I had grown curious.

 “Love life? You… feel in love?” I asked which he looked nervous. “Well, remember that my best friends were Tomo-kun, he uh… was also my first crush as well, actually – honestly I did start to realize that I found myself more attracted to guys or at least a preference and I did confess to him but… he rejected me which I got really upset and was about to leave but he told me that while he doesn’t feel that way, I was still his friend which I was happy but understand that he didn’t feel that way… I did speak with doctors about that and…” He explained which I was curious.

 As he went quiet, he put the mask on. “Some told me it’s connected to my chronic depression or maybe something I have no control over – I’m… still not sure honestly, which is why I faked my personality.” He told me which I became quiet.

 As then I spoke. “Doi-san, I… don’t think it’s wrong for you to feel that way. From the sounds of it – you can’t exactly control how you feel and I think Tomohiro-san seem to not hate you either. While maybe he may not feel the same way – I think he does care for you and that should matter.” I told him which he went silent.

 Suddenly he pull his mask over his head. “Heh, you… really are smart and pretty, so thank you.” He shyly spoke.

 I could tell he seem happy to hear that which I’m glad…

 Katou Doi, Ultimate Mascot FTE: 4/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As then me and the mascot boy began to talk about various things and even telling me some characters he has dress up before which he seems quite festive in the activity, which is nice.

 I feel myself and Doi-san grew closer so that’s pretty nice…

 After that I took out a box of sweets and sugar canes which he seem excited. “Oh nice, I can have this? Thank you!” He thanked me which he took them. As then Doi-san smiled at me.

 “Heya Fuji-chan, I uh… just want to say thanks for telling me.” He spoke as he took off his mask and smiled.

 “Huh, thank me? For what?” I asked which he giggled a bit. “Well, maybe not lying to myself about who I am and be more honest with everyone here from here on out! I mean… I still want to be useful and help the others.” He spoke which I smiled which he tilted his head to the side.

 “Beside I know I’m not a leader nor can take command at all, but I just want to help everyone out and prove I can be useful. So maybe I can work with them and fight onward with everyone so thank you.”

 He spoke as if he decided what to do and figure what he can, despite his talent being odd – he realize that he wants to be useful to the others.

 I could feel a strong bond between Doi-san and myself, which I can’t help but smile a bit.

 Katou Doi, Ultimate Mascot FTE: 5/5

 Congrats you have finish up all Free time events with Katou Doi; give yourself a pat on the back!

 After that we started talking quite a bit, I learn quite a few things about the actual Doi-san and even hobbies that aren’t related to his talent such as his love for crafting puzzles and reading which I did not expect at all.

 …

 However when he disappears, I look down at the three remaining buttons and press Haiiro-kun’s.

 As then he appears which he closes his eyes. “So, seems they figure out your plan and while I’m glad you protect young lady Sunako-chan, I’ll try and protect her with my life.” He spoke which I gave a nod.

 Seems that Haiiro-kun understand what he must do, prepare himself for what comes along… as such, we began to talk.

 Nakahara Rai/Haiiro’s Free Time Events!

 As such me and Haiiro began to talk quite a bit about various electronics and even things he’s very interested in the things I had to say or maybe he just like the sound of my voice? I wasn’t sure…

 Seems we grew closer together…

 As then I took out what look to be a wire tapper of some kind which I then gave to him. “Oooh, something for me to use! Thank ya!” He thanked me as he put it away as then Haiiro-kun stroke his chin.

 “You came to visit the man born from thunders once again?” He asked which I laughed a bit. “Hehe, well maybe – I just find your talent really interesting and overall, I can’t help but grow curious of you.” I told him which he blinked which he still had a smile on his face.

 I guess that Haiiro-kun was surprise by this as then he spoke. “So since your curious about me, what type of electronics do you use?” He asked which I thought it over. “Well it’s pretty common and not too exciting such as my phone for calls and laptop to type up papers, why?” I asked which he pointed to me.

 “Don’t put yourself down, I’m sure you have devices you use! We use electricity and electronics everyday for everyday needs; lights, TVs, electric toothbrushes and even things that are taken for granted we have use.” He began to lecture which I guess it is true to his words – we do tend to take electronics and electricity for granted.

 He then made a thumb gesture as pointing to one direction. “I’ll say this much; a lot of us rely on electricity and electronics and without it. We wouldn’t even know how to live – it proves people take them for granted.” He spoke as he frowns.

 From the sounds of it, it seems Haiiro-kun takes his job pretty serious and seems to value mundane things which I guess could be respectful. “From the sounds of it, you seem to value those things – any reason for that?” I asked which as then the electrical engineer try to remember.

 Then he looks at me with a straight face. “I… guess for me, I use to live a life where I had no electricity and electronics I do need; like maybe if I had a cell phone, my parents wouldn’t have died in a car crash or if I had an oven or microwave, I could feed myself proper food… So I don’t take kindly to people that don’t value the things they already have.” He stated which I was surprise to hear this from Haiiro-kun.

 I… never knew he live a poor life and even then, maybe he values things and doesn’t take it for granted.

 Nakahara Rai, Ultimate Electrical Engineer FTE – 2/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As such me and Haiiro began to talk quite a bit about various electronics and even things he’s very interested in the things I had to say or maybe he just like the sound of my voice? I wasn’t sure…

 Seems we grew closer together…

 I took out a busted-up radio that seem to be still workable but just needs some tuning. “Oooh, something for me to tinker with! Thank you!” He thanked me as he took the item.

 I couldn’t help but be silent after that rather heavy conversation – I… never knew that side of Haiiro-kun, maybe I did misjudge him quite a bit for that which then he seem to smile and spoke. “You seem worry, is it about what we spoke last time…?” I asked which I look to the ground.

 “I guess… what you say about your life, I’m surprise you live that life but, how are you okay?” I asked which he thought it over as he gave a shrug. “Personally, I did grieve and all that but personally I don’t think my parents would want me to be sad all the time, y’know?” He says which I blinked. “Really, they don’t?” I asked, not sure how to feel what he says which then he gave a small nod.

 “Yep – I mean while my family was poor and live in the slums for as long as I remember, I still got to spend a lot of time with my folks; they… felt guilty for not having things I need or blame themselves for things that were out of there control.” He told me which I was surprise by this.

 I couldn’t help but be impressed by this as then he continues. “My mom didn’t have a job and often was the one taking care of me, while my dad was a failure of an inventor – his gadgets were pretty useless and he even say I should live a better life which… I guess it be why they crash the car and died on purpose.” He spoke which I went pale.

 His… parents died on purpose? I mean that seems reckless if I had to say anything as then he shrugged. “As say, I don’t hate my parents as one would think; in fact, … I don’t think I would of met you so I think this was oddly a blessing!” He stated as then his face went red as looking away.

 “I-I mean, I do like the others too – just so were clear!” He spoke as trying to cover it up.

 I couldn’t help but snicker a bit… he still the same goofball, despite what happen.

 Nakahara Rai, Ultimate Electrical Engineer FTE – 3/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As such me and Haiiro began to talk quite a bit about various electronics and even things he’s very interested in the things I had to say or maybe he just like the sound of my voice? I wasn’t sure…

 Seems we grew closer together…

 As then I try to think over what else to say to Haiiro-kun, seeing as then I thought of something. “So I guess seeing as dad was a fail inventor, did you learn to make those gadgets that I’ve seen you working on?” I asked him which he chuckled to himself as he put his hands to his hips.

 “Well it be obvious where I get my love for electronics, but I think between me and my old man – I was the better of the 2, seeing as I can catch onto parts missing or even showing where they go… I think even one time I made a gadget which he was very proud of me.” He stated which I grown curious. “Really, what was the gadget of yours?” I asked which he started to think.

 As then he seems very proud as he spoke. “Well, it isn’t that hard to make, I mean any kid can do it; all you need is some wires and a potato… I think you’ll know what that is.” He suggests as he wanted me to guess…

 It was easy to make and not to hard-to-get material for, it was…

 -drawing robot

>potato clock

- Bristlebot

 I try to think over this gadget and then I sighed as rolling my eyes. “You made a potato clock? I mean I made that before and it’s easy…” I told him which he laughs. “Well counting I was only 5 years old – I had fun making that thing even if it doesn’t mean much but it got me highly interested in electronics.” He spoke which then I had to wonder something for a bit.

 “Then aside from electronics, did you… have any other interest?” I asked which he thought it over. “Well – seeing as my family wasn’t too rich I tend to find myself… running around on the street quite a bit,…” He spoke sheepishly which I blinked. “Oh, like playing with other kids? Well I guess counting you live in the slums – bet there are other kids to play with you, right?” I asked.

 However, Haiiro-kun seem shock by this then look away nervously. “I… guess you could say that, yeah that’s it…” He stated which I was left confused.

 I didn’t understand that part, did… Haiiro-kun do something bad?

 Nakahara Rai, Ultimate Electrical Engineer FTE – 4/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As such me and Haiiro began to talk quite a bit about various electronics and even things he’s very interested in the things I had to say or maybe he just like the sound of my voice? I wasn’t sure…

 Seems we grew closer together…

 As what he say last time I couldn’t but be bother by that last statement which then I asked about it. “So… you mention you ran around, right? I can’t help but feel that you aren’t telling me the whole story.” I stated which he looked nervous.

 “Re-Really, I mean… running is good and all that, so if anything, I think it should be fine.” “Haiiro …” I say in a very stern tone which cause him to stiffen up as sweat started to form as then he look away.

 Clearly his face goes red. “I uh… actually stole things.” He spoke which I was surprise. “Stole? Wait, did you steal things from people?! Why would you-?” “Look, I had no money and I was going to die if I didn’t.” He snapped which I was surprise by this.

 As then he looks away from me, clearly not happy to say this. “I get that it’s wrong and all that, I don’t need that morale high ground but counting that I didn’t want to die – I had to resort to stealing, while yes it’s wrong and I understand that but… I wish to stop that.” He stated which I couldn’t help but be surprise.

 “Really? You mean you wanted to stop stealing?” I asked which he nodded. “Yes, like I say – I know right from wrong. I had to do it so I don’t die and I think being here has given me a second chance and as say I got to spend time with you all.” He spoke as then he put his heart to his chest as his face went red.

 “As say, I… I do want to be with all of you, I want to tell you everything and… I feel when the time has come, I’ll tell everyone about my past and who I am but I rather not, not yet since… I need to be sure they are ready and… if it means to protect you then so be it.”

 He spoke as if it were a confession which I was a bit flustered and nodded. “I see, then… I can’t wait to hear it then, Haiiro-kun.” I spoke as I took his hand and smile which his face went red.

 I… surely felt a bond form between us and, one that I do cherish and would never forget… ever.

 Nakahara Rai, Ultimate Electrical Engineer FTE – 5/5

 Congrats you have finish up all Free time events with Nakahara Rai/Haiiro; give yourself a pat on the back!

 After that me and Haiiro-kun started to speak about other things and even had some fun conversations that I couldn’t help but feel invested in him personality – he was pretty charming and funny to me!

 But even then…

 I hope he does reveal everything of who he is to the others so they can trust and work together…

 I then notice I had 2 buttons left which I decided to press… Eito-san.

 As then he appears which he saw me. “So, visit me in my dreams – you… got a weird sense of humor, Fuji-san.” He spoke with some hint of annoyance which I just sighed.

 “Yes and I’m sorry, but I was worried Masa-san would do something but seems she prove me wrong… I still find it odd you strongly believe in her, y’know?” I asked which he crossed his arms.

 He shrugged as he smiled. “Well I mean, we can get why you are but don’t worry – we won’t let Haku do anything to Sunako-chan, Plus I’m sure we can take care of those Monokumas if he has more by the time Future Foundation shows up.” He inform me which I smiled.

 That’s… all I needed to hear.

 Kobayashi Eito’s Free Time Events!

 As then myself and Eito-san started to speak about quite a few things that interest us, various activities we like to do along with speaking about things of our past and just fond memories in a way.

 I feel that Eito-san and myself grew closer together, …

 Which then I reach into my pocket and took out a crossword puzzle which is easy to solve as I gave it to him. “Eh? For me, thanks! I’ll do something with it.” He thanked me as he put it away.

 “So, Fuji-san – a bit curious of you but… how is relations with your old man?” He asked which I shrugged. “I got along with him pretty well before he passed away, I do enjoy talking with him – why do you ask?” I asked which he cross his arms. “I see… your pretty lucky.” He spoke.

 I blinked; I mean I get along well with my dad so it wasn’t that big of a deal as then. “Wait, did your father do something bad?” I asked which he shook his head. “Nah, he wasn’t abusive just… had issues mentally.” He spoke which I tilted my head to the side. “mentally? What do you mean?” I asked which he shrugged.

 “Well, my dad was a former soldier during the time of the Vietnam War, he’s a veteran so he does suffer from some PTSD and other trauma that he has had pretty bad episodes and those episodes go worse after mom die,” He explains as I was surprise.

 To learn that Eito-san had a father like that which then he continues. “So your dad has those issues?” I asked which he put his hand in his pocket. “Well yeah, I don’t hate my old man or anything, it’s how life is, personally I had people pity me just because my mom died and my father can’t handle certain work without having an episode so work had to go to me and my bro, which well… his job is a bit more dangerous.” He told me which I started to think.

 His brother’s job is dangerous, I wonder what that job was. “See my older brother, Hisao worked in the army as a pilot – he was able to do these amazing feats. Even do these cool shows and even gave me the jacket I’m wearing right now!” He snickered then suddenly frown which he sighed.

 “However, it… seem to get Hope’s Peak’s attention and counting what my mom did to her, I… wasn’t very happy when he accepted.” He slouched, clearly Hope’s Peak being an issue still.

 I… do get his reason why he hates Hope’s Peak but maybe he isn’t getting the full picture…

 Kobayashi Eito, Ultimate ??? FTE – 3/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As then myself and Eito-san started to speak about quite a few things that interest us, various activities we like to do along with speaking about things of our past and just fond memories in a way.

 I feel that Eito-san and myself grew closer together, …

 I took out a ticket that has been known for having the best bet when it comes to horse races which I gave to him. “Whoa, for me – well I guess I’ll be taking these so thanks.” He thanked me as he put it away.

 As then he crosses his arms, I guess he’s still bother by Hope’s Peak which he sighed.

 “Say, Eito-san… did you ever wonder why your brother became a Hope’s Peak student?” I asked which he groan. “You think I didn’t ask that question;” He spoke as if he already did.

 As then he pulled out something which he shows an image of him when he was younger and what seems to be his brother with green eyes. “You see, my bro was the type that always saw the good in people and was pretty naïve on some stuff, but he had good intentions. I think it’s why he became a pilot during his time in the army – he thought he was doing the right thing, he was well… my hero I guess.” He say with a small smile but then he look away.

 “Sadly when he got that letter, he accepted I told him that he’s pretty much going to that school that ended with our mother’s life but then he told me that reason was for dad, he knew our jobs could only get so far and tend to pay for stuff but… I just thought we live a good life, y’know.” He spoke as then getting annoyed.

 “Then even worse luck, I got accepted… seriously I question why I did but after some convincing I decided to give it a chance…” He stated, he didn’t like that school at all.

 Which then lead me to tilting to the side. “Then,… why did you accept?” I asked which he look surprise by that question. “Huh, why?” “Well, why did you accept – you must have had a reason to accept that invitation so why…?” Eito-san then cross his arms then sighed. “Well, I guess it’s to figure out what happen with mom and why she died at thirty, and… I heard that we had this Ultimate Journalist in our class so I figure I can go and ask her…” He explained.

 So pretty much he didn’t go to Hope’s Peak for no reason but just to find out what happen with his mother. “I see, that be understandable… you wish to find the truth about what happen and I can’t blame you.” I told him which he smiled a bit. “Yeah, I mean I still hate that this school calls itself ‘mankind’s hope’ or whatever, I just don’t see it for that especially if my mother’s death due to brain damage and knowing she was from the Reserve Course and graduated as a Hope’s Peak Student… so to me it’s odd.” He spoke as then he look to the ground.

 “But even then, I don’t think I would ever view that place highly even after I graduate – I just can’t, but I think if there’s one thing…” He paused which I was curious. “And what would that be?” I asked which he chuckled to himself.

 As then the boy gave a shrug. “I guess meeting you all? I mean, while I don’t view Hope’s Peak as the greatest place on earth or hell, even hate it – I think being around you lot gave me some form of hope… wow, look at me talking about the power of friendship or whatever…” He say as laughing to himself.

 I guess despite his dislike for Hope’s Peak… he still clearly cares for everyone in the class.

 Kobayashi Eito, Ultimate ??? FTE – 4/5

 --

 It was then we decided to continue talking since time did not matter in dreams, correct?

 As then myself and Eito-san started to speak about quite a few things that interest us, various activities we like to do along with speaking about things of our past and just fond memories in a way.

 I feel that Eito-san and myself grew closer together, …

 I then took out what look to be some trial mix which I gave to him. “Huh, oh that’s cool – thanks a lot.” He thanked me as putting it away as Eito-san pulled his hat down, I guess he like it.

 “Y’know… I think I realize something when talking with you…” He say as I was surprise by this. “Huh, what would that be?” I asked as he look me straight in the end and say.

 Clearly, he came to a conclusion as he spoke. “While Hope’s Peak is something I’ll never view as good, I do think we can form hope ourselves without relying on Hope’s Peak, I think… our class is hope, y’know?” He spoke which I was surprise by this then he continues.

 “I think counting the fact we all try to get along and work together, that’s hope for me and I can’t help but admire… I mean, I’m no symbol of hope but-.” “What are you talking about? You’re a symbol of hope as well…” I told him which he stares at me then sighed.

 Clearly, he did not want to be called that. “I guess? But if you look at the talents we have, there are symbols of hope in their own way – they bring good to humanity but me… I’m not that at all, and besides my talent isn’t really that useful. It’s only for my self benefit then something that helps others…” He spoke as I pointed to him.

 “Eito-san, you need to realize that despite how you view yourself – you could be a symbol of hope even without talent. There are many people out there that don’t have talents and can-do amazing things and even then, from when I spoke with you. You have skills and qualities that make you a good person so if anything, … Talented or not, you are some form of hope. That’s what I think.” I told him straight up which he looks surprise by this which he became silent as then he laughed.

 “You seriously keep speaking like that – I could see why many of us do look up to you as some form of hope and I think if anything were to happen to you then… I wouldn’t be sure what to do but… I think I’ll try be seen as that example so, keep doing your best… okay?”

 He spoke as if making a promise that… if anything were to happen to me, he would take the charge and lead them, even if I fail. I know he won’t.

 With that in mind, I could be sure to trust Eito-san and I even felt we bonded pretty well…

 Kobayashi Eito, Ultimate ??? FTE – 5/5

 Congrats you have finish up all Free time events with Kobayashi Eito; give yourself a pat on the back!

 After that, me and Eito-san began to talk about hobbies and any other thing we came to enjoy, he surely enjoy talking quite a bit and I couldn’t help but listen… despite his attitude, he can be fun.

 But I know for sure…

 He surely would be a good leader, I think he could lead the group to safety and capture Haku.

 I then look down and had one more button… yeah, just one more.

[alwayssunnyprompts]

They Say We are Asleep (Until We Fall in Love)

He’s lying on his back in Mac’s bed, and the weight of the universe seems to be pushing down on his chest. Like his body is the only thing stopping the sky from crumbling, crashing down into the earth. 

Dennis tries to avoid making eye contact with Mac as much as he can, but his energy is palpable, his arm pressed up against Dennis’, his eyes warm and kind, crinkled up into the gentle expression that Dennis sees far too much these days. 

He’s eagerness and excitement and something else entirely, something too thunderous and precious and dangerous to name and suddenly everything is too small, too closed in, too tight to hold it all. 

Dennis feels too small for it, too.

The pressure of Mac’s arm almost hurts, the contact simultaneously awakening and shutting down every inch of him. His eyes flick over to Mac for a split second and something explodes in him, and he needs to snuff it out. 

He shifts his hips uncomfortably and his skin starts to prickle as his body is overcome with the restless need to move, to escape. The sense of claustrophobia is closing in, the pressure so dense and heavy and he needs to do something or he’ll scream. But everything in him is so tangled and dark and confused that he barely even knows what he’s feeling. 

So when he starts talking, he doesn’t really know where it’s coming from. What he’s talking about. His mouth quivers. 

“W-what is this, man? What are we doing? I-I don’t wanna do this anymore, can we stop?” The words tumble out like one rushed sentence and once they’re free he doesn’t know if he regrets breaking the silence. But they’re...quiet. Honest. More honest than anything he’s said in a long time. 

Mac’s smile fades. 

“Huh?”

Dennis breathes heavily, trying not to panic at the wound he’s opened within himself. The vulnerability disgusts him, makes his head spin and his brain feel like it’s swallowing him whole. It’s so deeply wrong. Violent. Raw. Overwhelming. 

“No, no, we can’t stop now! We’re right on track.” Mac’s voice is so soft and caring that Dennis wants to rip his hair out. His body is ablaze with the need to act out. 

Why is Mac pushing him? Why is he being so...supportive? It doesn’t make sense. 

And maybe he doesn’t just mean the scheme. This whole situation feels off. An achingly familiar feeling of detachment washes over him. This doesn’t feel right at all. He’s struck, suddenly, with the realization that this—trying so hard for what essentially amounted to a one-night stand with a woman he couldn’t give a shit about if he tried—doesn’t feel right anymore. In fact, he doesn’t feel much of anything anymore, and none of the old vices—sex, drugs, alcohol—quite fill the void like they used to. Maybe the void has gotten bigger, deeper, more inescapable. Maybe giving in is inevitable, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s just...exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. 

“I don’t know, man. I just...it just feels like a lot of effort. If feels desperate, you know what I mean? Like...I never put this much work into banging some cute meat.” 

It’s not a lie so much as it’s a twisting of the facts. Truthfully, the effort he’d put into D.E.N.N.I.S-ing countless women hadn’t felt like effort, hadn’t felt hard, hadn’t seemed nearly impossible and grueling because, at the time, he’d convinced himself that’s what he wanted. And maybe he had wanted it. At the very least, he thought he did. But none of it ever filled the hole in him, just quieted down the echo of its emptiness for a short time. Now, even the thought of trying to impress some random woman is torturous. It feels forced, it feels meaningless. After all, he isn’t going to spend his life with any of them, that much is clear. 

He hears Mac shift on the bed, moving to sit up, confusion in his voice. 

“Cute meat?” 

A flush of embarrassment heats Dennis’ face, pulls him back from the edge for a moment. 

“‘Cute meat,’” he fires back immediately, trying to keep it light. “That was your phrase.” 

“No, Dennis. ‘Meet-Cute.’” 

“It has a name, Mac. Its name is Lisa.” 

He tries to humanize her, but even that comes out flat. He thinks that maybe saying her name will drum up some feelings, awaken some long-dormant drive, but it doesn’t. He feels nothing for this woman. And she has a husband, who is staying in their home. There are so many facets of Mac’s plan that have fallen apart that it’s hardly a scheme anymore. They’re just renting out his room to a nice couple for some cash. Anything else is a pipe dream. The hope of him finding love with this woman is a fantasy at best. Upsettingly, he is deeply relieved by the thought, a considerable weight lifting from his chest. 

Mac grins, and a place deep inside of Dennis thaws. He hates how reactive his body is to Mac sometimes, how Mac seems to instinctively know how to smooth his jagged edges. He isn’t even trying to. He just does. Dennis isn’t even sure Mac is conscious that he has this power. In fact, he’s positive he isn’t. Mac is nothing if not absolute garbage at interpreting other people’s feelings. Yet, even through his obliviousness, he’s blindingly bright in all of the ways Dennis needs him to be, in all of the ways he hates and reveres and tries desperately to ignore. 

So when Dee knocks and shatters the moment with her squawking, he jumps at the opportunity to remove himself from this situation. His mind is already calming down, his heart rate slowing to a more normal rhythm. As he curls up on the couch, comfortably cool and finally, blessedly,  alone, he finds himself wondering, for just a second, what it would have been like to wake up with Mac’s arms around him. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Mac winks at him. A dramatic and childish gesture, but sends Dennis’ stomach plummeting. He feels his practiced disgust for only a second before the feeling morphs and flutters back into his chest, igniting there. Its pleasantness is undeniable. He smiles. It’s hesitant and small and mostly unintentional, but it’s happened before he can force himself not to. He’d missed this, this flow with Mac. Their easy rhythm. Everything can feel so easy with him, so manageable. It feels like coming home. He blinks, adjusts his face, and pulls the feelings back before they become too obvious. Thank God Mac has turned away from him, leaning towards his bedroom door. 

“Now, the plan is in motion for you.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What do you mean the plan is in motion for me? I thought I was out.” He wishes his hands would stop shaking, it’s very distracting. The surface of his coffee ripples and sways, betraying the movement. He shoves a hand in his pocket, forcing the other to grip the mug tighter. 

“Remember when we were saying that the female romantic lead would never cheat?”

“Uh-huh,” he responds, needing an explanation immediately. He tries to take a deep breath but it comes out as a forceful huff, and he definitely doesn’t feel any better. 

“Well, I overheard Lisa saying to Greg that she, ‘Misses Teddy.’ Huh? Why would she tell Greg that she misses the guy she cheated with?” He lets the information sink in for less than half a second before continuing, “Unless, she didn’t cheat on him with Teddy. Maybe Teddy is a platonic friend from high school that makes Greg jealous.”

Dennis feels his face heating up, takes a small sip of coffee to try and ground himself. 

“Don’t you know what this means? Lisa is still a romantic lead, which means?”

He’s staring at Dennis expectantly. 

He realizes that Mac has cued him up to answer the question. Everything in him is screaming stop. It takes a Herculean effort for him not to actually scream, biting his tongue in an attempt to use the pain to distract from the urge. 

Mac is smiling.

Dennis feels sick. His head is pounding furiously, his heart joining in on the relentless rhythm. His palms are sweaty. He wants to be left alone, but absolutely cannot be alone right now. He wants to yell at Mac but he doesn’t want Mac out of his sight and he’s just so tired. The wildfire in his chest is kept from destroying him only by the wave of numb indifference blanketing his body. 

But Mac is smiling. 

He already knows the answer, but he needs to say it. 

“I’m still your leading man.” 

A death sentence from his very own lips.

He wants to go to sleep.

“Yeah!” 

He glances at Mac, tearing his eyes away as quickly as he can. The hole inside him is cavernous. Any semblance of peace he’d found in abandoning the scheme shatters. Dull, cold dread settles in the pit of his stomach, and in a hazy sort of hysteria he imagines what would happen if he actually did vomit on the rug, right here, right now. Mac would probably take care of him. The thought soothes and sickens him in equal measure. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Now this is your moment, Mac,” he whispers urgently. ��Just remember, speak from the heart. Sweep him off his feet.” 

He feels nervous. Why does he feel nervous? He’s barely involved in this plan, all he has to do is control the music. He can do that. It’s one button. 

Maybe they should have rehearsed or something. Greg didn’t need to be here at all for that. In fact, his patience has worn thin concerning this whole thing, and he just wants them out of his home. He could coach Mac through a romantic speech just as easily without them around to intrude. And as Mac starts talking, Dennis wishes that Greg would just leave. He doesn’t deserve to hear this. 

The sudden urge to cut out the middleman stops him in his tracks, and he becomes acutely aware of the situation he finds himself in. He feels too conscious of everything, the pressure of the air on his skin, the rough hems of his shirtsleeve on his forearms, the edge of the counter against his back. He is standing in the kitchen of his apartment, of their apartment, listening to Mac profess his love to a perfect stranger. A man that means nothing to him. A man that doesn’t even know him at all. 

He should feel more jealous than he does.

It’s a realization that he doesn't the mental energy to process, so he shoves it down. 

What distracts him from the treacherous thoughts, from the heated fire of jealousy, are the gentle waves of contentment washing over him as he listens to Mac speak, loud and passionate and ridiculous. His eyes slide shut for a few seconds and lets the words warm him, lets them echo through him. Imagines that he and Mac are alone, like they’ve always been–the Dynamic Duo, the two of them against the world. The evening would be golden and hazy, they'd be a little too drunk and way too close together on the couch. Mac’s words would be hushed, and he’d hang on to every lilt, every pause, every soft giggle as Mac inched closer, closing what infinitesimal space was left between them. He would finally feel held, finally feel at peace, a little less breakable, a little more fragile. 

He’s dangerously lost in the fantasy, and he’s just about to force himself out when–

“Teddy was our son.”

“He died of leukemia.”

The music. 

“Oh, you know what, let me–”

He feels half asleep as he scrambles for the CD player, and shit, his hands aren't cooperating, and his brain is partly stuck on Mac’s words and partly stuck on dead kid, and he compromises by skipping through the rest of the playlist before slamming the pause button. 

“S-sorry. I don’t have a–uh–dead kid appropriate…”

Jesus Christ. The gravity of the situation still isn’t hitting. He’s stuck in the limbo of the emotional whiplash he just experienced, and thank god Mac is here, because he could not handle the rest of the conversation. He’s speaking, but his mind is somewhere else. 

“I guess we’re not gonna get that romantic comedy ending after all,” Mac says, and something about that breaks through to him. 

He hates this. He’s been miserable for days as he humored Mac’s plan, trying to make him happy, to distract him. Maybe this was how Mac felt all the times he's tried to cater to his every whim. It’s exhausting. 

“Mac?” 

He tries not to let his voice tremble.

Mac approaches him, concern on his face.

“I’m sorry, Dennis. We can try again, find a different woman, make sure she’s single this time! I can change the plan and it’ll be good as new, you know I’m very adaptable—”

“Mac.” 

“Yeah?” He perks up, a tiny, involuntary smile playing on his lips. Mac’s smiles have a way of reaching his eyes no matter how small or quick, no trace of insincerity or forced emotion no matter how hard Dennis searched his face. Dennis has spent hours of his life seeing Mac smile, and not once has it seemed disingenuous. It’s almost admirable. 

The smile fades though, back into Mac’s most common expression around him—loving concern, a touch of confusion. He’s taken too long to respond. 

“I don’t... I don’t want that. You don’t need to keep–” his voice is thick with emotion, his throat feels raw and tight. He just wants Mac to hear him. He doesn’t want to have to say it. 

“You okay, man?” 

Something about the question ignites his anger. How does Mac not understand? How can he be so oblivious to how he’s feeling? He is not okay. Everything feels so loud, so strong, that its unthinkable that someone wouldn’t notice. He should stop, he should close his mouth and go to his room and try not to be too loud when he breaks down. But his mouth is moving ahead of his brain. 

“No, Mac. I’m not.”

The words carry a weight that hangs heavy over the room. They’ve been true for so long that he doesn’t even feel better for finally saying them. 

Mac’s face fills with glossy-eyed worry, his hand reaching out instinctively, maybe with the intention of checking his temperature, maybe just to rest on his shoulder, but he thinks better of it. Mac’s expression urges him to continue. 

“L-look...you said you had that...that thing inside of you. Remember?”

He nods, squinting.

“Well...with me it’s–” he breathes heavily, “it’s different. I’m empty. I have this...hole inside of me that I can’t fill. And it’s so deep that it aches.”

“Maybe–” 

 “I’m not like you, Mac.” There isn’t any hostility in his voice. He’s too tired.  

“Well...maybe the thing inside of me can fill the thing inside of you.” 

Everything is suspended in a thick layer of silence and time seems to wind to a stop.

Mac steps forward. Dennis flinches, but doesn’t run away. Mac’s leaning towards him and his fight or flight isn’t kicking in. Something is wrong, but it isn’t. His stomach is turning and his heart is racing and he thinks he might pass out.  Mac presses his lips to Dennis’, and something unlocks in him. He can’t control himself, can’t help but melt under Mac’s touch. 

“Fuck you,” he breathes into Mac’s mouth. “Fuck you.” 

“It’s okay,” Mac says, breathless and awed.

“It hurts, Mac,” he whispers. “It hurts.”

“I know,” he says. 

He pauses, presses a kiss to Dennis’ forehead. 

Reaches down to take his hand.

“Let me help.”

[potestessemagishomosexualitatis]

Tangled In Your Heartstrings: Bonus Material

I came up with a whole load of headcanons writing my witch/vampire Secret Santa fic that didn’t make the final cut, so here they are:

The World & Fae

Many different kinds of magic and magical creatures exist in this world, and have been known about by humans for all of human history.

As a rule of thumb, anything that would be illegal to do by non-magical means and/or is obviously immoral is illegal under human law. How much non-humans feel bound by this law varies.

Some magical creatures (”the undead”) were once human. This includes vampires, weres (as in werewolves, werecoyotes, etc.), ghouls and more. Others, including the fae, are distinct species.

Witches are not a separate species, but is a term for humans or undead who have been trained in the use of magic. Every person has some innate magical potential, but how much varies; nearly all humans (or former humans) need training to be able to consciously tap into their power.

Patton, Emile and Deceit are all trained witches with different specialities. Patton and Emile, as professional witches, have formal qualifications to prove they have completed their apprenticeships to a satisfactory level; Deceit has been a witch since before such qualifications existed, but did complete a similar kind of training when he first learned magic. (The apprenticeship tradition of witchcraft dates back hundreds of years.)

There are also higher qualifications for witchcraft that are equivalent to Masters degrees and doctorates. Emile is currently writing his doctoral dissertation on the uses of aura-reading in a therapeutic context.

Fae, on the other hand, are born with magical abilities, which they master during childhood. However, fae magical powers are different from what a witch can do, and are primarily nature-based. They also have a natural talent for enchanting people.

In case it wasn’t clear: Roman, like all fae in this world, is human-sized and has butterfly-type wings on his back, albeit much less fragile than a butterfly’s would be. Finding clothing that fits can be a challenge.

Most fae live in a parallel universe (called “fairyland” in common parlance) and only infrequently travel to the human world, normally preferring nature and outdoor spaces. Fae are big fans of music, art and poetry and have a bad reputation for kidnapping humans they find pretty or who have artistic talent.

Most fae don’t feel beholden to mortal law as they can usually return to fairyland to escape justice, but the rare few who choose to integrate with human society (like Roman) have to obey it.

Fae age slowly, reaching young adulthood at around 150 years old. At this point they stop ageing physically, and they cannot die of old age. However they are still vulnerable to injury, particularly by silver and iron.

Fae are strictly herbivorous, and often eat flowers.

Vampire Lore

Vampires in this universe feed off of “life energy” with blood acting as a conduit. Fresh blood retains more life energy than old blood, and human has more than animal, synthetic blood substitutes (created by magic) barely have any.

A typical healthy vampire feeding schedule is one portion of animal blood daily, supplemented by live human feeds on a weekly-to-monthly basis.

Donors can safely feed a vampire once every 4-6 weeks (it takes less than a typical blood donation) but should be monitored for signs of anaemia. Because Patton is Virgil’s thrall, Virgil can draw on his life energy more efficiently and takes less blood to be satiated, so he can feed from Patton more often (every 3 weeks).

Fae and (most) other magical creatures can be donors too. However, their magical nature can interfere with the energy transfer, making them a less predictable food source. In an emergency, a vampire could feed off another vampire, but because the energy transfer is not 100% efficient there are diminishing returns for this.

Most vampire covens will develop a network of donors that they work with, normally 2-3 per vampire member. Some donors work exclusively with one vampire, others are happy to donate to whoever is in need in a coven.

Feeding normally feels very intimate for the vampire in question, so vamps are often picky about who they will feed from and are reluctant to risk losing a donor to another vampire. In the past, vampires getting “territorial” over donors has been the starting point of several major conflicts between covens.

There are also professional services that will let vampires hire a donor. However, these have a somewhat shady reputation for pushing people to donate more often than is healthy and skimping on disease screening.

Vampires can catch and spread bloodbourne diseases! This is an area Logan is researching (see below) but the need for costly screening is why most vamps feed primarily from animal blood and donors they know well. There are clinics which offer blood screening for live donors.

Beyond feeding: a vampire at full strength can heal almost any injury in a matter of minutes, although doing so will rapidly drain their energy reserves. Traditional vampire weaknesses (e.g. stake through the heart, sunlight) can weaken them, slow healing, or cause them to temporarily discorporate but will not kill them outright.

Vampires typically live in covens of around 5-8 members who share a territory and often (but not always) a living space. Newer members are more likely to live with the coven leader while they are learning, while older ones might move out to live independently or leave to live alone/start their own coven.

Vampire homes typically have numerous adaptations to protect them from sunlight during daytime hours - minimal windows, black-out curtains and shutters, etc. These technologies have allowed beds to overtake coffins as the preferred sleeping space. (Patton’s spare room, primarily used by Logan and Deceit, has blackout curtains and shutters installed before Virgil’s arrival.)

Vampires are naturally nocturnal, but as with humans, they may awake during daylight hours for a number of reasons. Human business hours are a source of some consternation; vampire-friendly shops, libraries etc. will offer opening hours in the early evening through to around midnight or 1am to allow for nocturnal customers.

For the same reason, many vampires are self-employed or work in professions where they can set their own hours. Many covens are wealthy enough that their members do not have to find work, although many vampires enjoy having some kind of occupation to fill their time.

A larger coven also typically has at least one human living with them to help with whatever tasks vampires cannot do (e.g. answering the door during the daytime). These are often donors, for convenience reasons, but the majority of donors won’t live with a coven. Seth is a human donor who splits his time between Logan & Deceit’s coven and his own place.

Vampires are considered to have a solemn responsibility to their fledges (vampires they have turned), acting as mentors and protectors as they adjust to their new lifestyle. Turning a vampire is considered a major committent and normally involves discussion with the whole coven; life-or-death situations are the main exception to this, but even in these cases it is considered generous to intervene, not a requirement.

Backstory

Logan was a haematologist before he was a vampire. He was a grad student studying bloodbourne illnesses and ways of screening donor blood more efficiently when he attracted the attention of Deceit.

Deceit, normally wearing his “acceptable-to-mortals” disguise (the unremarkable face he shows Virgil) is a prominent and wealthy coven leader who was considering making a donation to Logan’s university. He got intrigued by Logan and wound up offering to collaborate on a project with him.

By the end of the project the two had fallen for one another. They dated for a few years while Logan was still human, and then Deceit briefly did the “how can I curse him to share my horrible undead existence?” thing before Logan basically told him to hurry up and make with the eternal youth already.

Deceit was turned in the 1920s, although he often pretends to be much older. At around 120 years old he’s unusually young to be leading his own coven already, but is by all accounts very good at it. He has not yet told me how he got his scars.

Deceit was the first witch Patton ever got to know and by exposing him to the magical world this piqued his curiosity. He began dabbling with witchcraft, trained under Emile for part of his apprenticeship, and after they became good friends Patton asked if he could stay on at the shop after qualifying.

Patton and Roman met and fell in love several years ago while Roman was visiting the mortal world, and he decided to stay for Patton. Roman was already a musician/actor in the fae world and was delighted to learn that this could count as the pesky “job” mortals insist on him having.

Virgil’s parents were anti-undead bigots; he let himself be dragged along to protests etc. because he had been raised that way and didn’t really know better. The night he died, he was unwillingly at a protest outside a pro-vampire rights speech Deceit was making.

Virgil woke up alone in a hospital to learn that his family had already disinherited him. Deceit stopped by to offer him a place in the coven but he didn’t want to hear it; however, he barely had any savings and wound up on the streets almost immediately.

Because of how traumatised he was by his turning, Virgil never properly learned how often he needed to feed or what the danger signs were. He began skipping feeds due to a combination of lack of funds and his disgust at his own vampirism, leading to him becoming dangerously malnourished by the start of the fic.

The reason that Patton’s spell accidentally replicated the thrall binding ritual is because he used life magic on a vampire, an undead creature that inherently feeds on that energy. It worked a little too well at mimicking the effects of feeding and instead magically tied a part of Patton’s life essence to Virgil’s hunger-for-life-essence.

The thrall spell was “designed” to create well-controlled servants/donors for vampires (and would therefore be considered seriously illegal to perform intentionally, since there are laws about magically controlling people), but there are variants (mentioned in chapter 5) that are intended to be more like a soul bond/magical marriage. Virgil rejected these initially because they make the bond unbreakable (even if Patton became undead) but the couple might consider them in future.

Possible Future

I reserve the right to change my mind about any/all of this if I choose to write more in this AU (and the same goes for everything else here, actually).

Roman and Virgil start dating not too long after the final chapter.

Virgil completes his witch apprenticeship with flying colours. He has a particular affinity for divination and for drawing wards.

As predicted in the fic, Patton will eventually choose to become immortal in order to stay with his family for the rest of their lives. There are ways to do this using fae magic or witchcraft but both are risky; he is far more likely to ask Virgil to turn him into a vampire.

(If I write a follow-up fic, it will probably be about this.)

Patton and Virgil will eventually open up a witchcraft shop together! It definitely has a groan-worthy pun as a name but I haven’t worked out what yet.

Patton, Virgil and Roman initially have a three-way wedding in the fae tradition, since it isn’t legal for humans to marry multiple people. They have a human one too when that is eventually legalised.

[content-to-convert]

VIDEO DIDN’T KILL THE RADIO STAR...

VIDEO DIDN’T KILL THE RADIO STAR it just made him dress nicer 

By Pat Mellon 

Speaking of your brand evolving, PODCASTS are now a wise bullet to have in the arsenal of promotional weapons. In the early 2000's, for instance, you didn't have the option to record and distribute a PODCAST. The technology didn't exist to even IDENTIFY, much less create one- if you typed PODCAST into an email in 2002, it would have been flagged as a misspelling. 

But now, thanks to Audioblogging, re-branded as PODCASTING thanks to the iPOD, you can reach a targeted captive audience in a car on a long commute, with content that they've actually sought out. It's essentially a radio infomercial for the lifestyle of your product, without the PAID-PROGRAMMING aftertaste. Plenty of people have been slow to warm to the idea of such self-promotion and have waited to see if the technology and its effectiveness sustained or if it waned, the way QR codes did, or video discs did until the invention of the DVD. It can be an amazingly powerful part of your brand. 

Many rejected podcasting, as I did initially, as a waste of energy. In fairness, early on when there were no networks for podcasting and its business model was less focused than now, it smacked of self-congratulatory volunteer work. I saw it as an infringement on my profession. I have 15 years of radio hosting experience. I saw podcasts as competition. In my short-sighted view then, I didn't see the full potential of a podcast. I just saw it as people wanting my job. But as time went on, I began to see the ways, at least in terms of in-car entertainment, that podcasting was the future. And like the cryptic fortune cookie says, "Kill Your Darlings". Or maybe go with the less-confusing, "Reinvent Your Business Constantly. The End Goal May Be The Same But The Tools and Methods Evolve Constantly" which is a Ken Tucker quote I saw on a Snapple Cap. Or even the more direct, "You Have To Reinvent To Stay Fresh and In The Game" which Madonna said once. 

But early on, I saw it as the enemy - the way news journalists must have felt when FREELANCERS started getting a lot of the work in the late 90's. I thought, "If all you need to broadcast is a computer and an opinion, why the hell did I major in Broadcasting? It's like everyone becoming a Youtuber or a Social Media Influencer (seriously, that is NOT a good name. It's just saying what you're doing. It lacks creativity, like naming the glass thing you drink out of a "glass". Or the room with the bed a "bedroom". Or the thing you swing on a "swing". Or the... Sorry-I'll move on.) Anybody can become a Social Media Influencer these days, (and if they're under 14 and haven't been trying for half their lives then you might want to make sure they're breathing) and that means fame, sometimes money, but more important: LIKES. I overheard my 8 year-old playing with her friends and they were pretending there was a genie or something granting wishes and one girl asked for a pony, and another asked for a house of chocolate, and my daughter asked for a million LIKES on her video. LIKES are currency for pre-teen popularity. And LIKES or even merely PAGE VIEWS can be currency in the grown-up world of business. My point is that anyone with a computer and a camera can make money on Youtube if they hustle. It's simply the new normal. It's great, if not dangerous. We've yet to see the fallout of a generation raised on Youtubing, unless, of course, you count cautionary tales like Logan Paul or Jo Jo Siwa, both of whom are rich. It's simply another entertainment option for kids. I kinda thought podcasting was that, but for adults who only wanted quasi-fame; to show-off. But it's bigger than that.

If you're a plumber, for instance, and you want to maximize business, you probably want a decent social media footprint, some solid YELP reviews, and maybe even a podcast. Toilet clogged? Click here for an interview with master plumbers from all over. It's not the ONLY thing you should do. It's ONE of the things you should do.

On the consumer side, you have to realize that traffic, especially the bumper-to-bumper kind, is GOLD to a radio talk show host. People listen the most in their cars, so DJ's in New York and Los Angeles, the #1 and #2 radio markets depending on who you ask*, for instance, who entertain on the radio, are always on their toes to stay funny and relevant because it's so easy to push a button and change the station.

Then suddenly there was a new game in town. People were bypassing the radio altogether and plugging external sources into car sound systems, removing the commercials and unwanted Morning Zoo shenanigans, and rendering my entire college education and training void. My only hope was wishing death to the podcast movement, which I think I did a couple of times on the radio accompanied by a sound effect of a toilet flushing (Take THAT, Podcasting!). It didn't work. I kept hearing the word. Podcast. (eerie voice) PODD CAAAST! My head was in the sand. People would say to me, "you should do a podcast" and I'd cringe and wildly swing fists at imaginary ghosts who were accusing me of "Resting on your laurels" and "Holding on too tight.”

It took a while, but I get the appeal and, more importantly, the power of the Podcast. It's like a book-on-tape for the 21st century- 10 times as cool, though, because it's technologically relevant, and can be different every time you listen. So we agree that podcasts are real. And we acknowledge that there is room for many things on the dashboard of a car, be them outlets, or additional buttons. And we agree that the the way we do business is always changing and we have to adapt to some degree. So why all the hub bub? Because we can't have an intelligent conversation about the delicate existence of Podcasts without talking about Shane Gillis, the comedian who was hired and fired by Saturday Night Live in the same week last year. We need to understand the power of what it was that torpedoed his streetcar (tune into Mixed Metaphors with Pat Mellon Tuesdays on The Podd Couple, right after Poddamnit at 8, and Pod of Thunder with Gene Simmons at 8:17) He and a buddy do this show, this podcast, it's like a radio show but you don't listen to it on your grandpa's Victrola, you tether your MP3 player to the radio inside grandpa's Camry, and there's bad language, which there never is on traditional, boring old dumb talk radio, so right away, it's awesome (honestly, the only difference between Howard Stern on radio and Howard Stern on satellite is the F word) and the internet allows curses and take that, Mr. Suit and Tie, and this is going to be amazing. And on one particular show from 2018, Gillis said "chink" when describing someone in Chinatown. Not a huge scandal, but I guess you'd have to ask Roseanne Barr if the internet can get you into to any kind of trouble. She was exiled from the the entire US for a social media post that mentioned race and monkeys. And the same new normal that allows John Q. Anybody to do a podcast ALSO watches everything you do online and will sink you if it sees something it does not like. America can be confusing that way. Freedom of speech and freedom of complaining about freedom of speech are always at each other's throats, it seems. And you can't have it both ways. The guy who alerted the world to Bill Cosby's dating rituals online is loved by many but is also shunned by others, but that guy knows what he did and he knows not to complain about the ones who, well, complain. It's the price you pay.

The point is, you need to constantly be hustling and using all of technology’s modern tools to get your product out (they’re not burning DVD’s anymore) and maybe one of those avenues is a podcast with salty language, and maybe that podcast exists among your body of work that clients can enjoy whenever they want.

But we live in a new age of retroactive outrage. Eddie Murphy was on SNL and is arguably the most talented person the show has produced. He did a stand-up special in which he explores “What if Mr. T were a Faggot?” It was inflammatory and it was insensitive and it was homophobic (though that buzzword was still a decade from conception) because the premise of the joke- the attribution of homosexual behavior to a big, strong, black man being marginalized as solely predatory sodomy - crossed the line. When I spell it out like that it looks horrible. But it’s a simple comedic device: assigning unlikely behavior to someone for comedic purposes. It’s the fish-out-of-water gag. It’s why we had Mork, and Alf, and Balkie from Perfect Strangers. It’s Freaky Friday. It’s why The Rock playing a babysitter or a tooth fairy is funny. Murphy did this AFTER he was on SNL. But if has been released before he auditioned, do you think he’d have been hired? 

  Of course he would have. Because the Mr. T thing was a small part of that special (though, I recall, an extremely quotable part) and the people who didn’t like or appreciate the language didn’t have the bionic megaphone of the internet so they could get their outrage all over your conscience. The point is that your podcast is a reflection of your brand. You have to weigh your desire to speak freely and loosely with your desire to keep the Cancel Culture at bay. At a MINIMUM, though, you should keep things clean for your clients, listeners, and most importantly, your potential customers. Shane Gillis missed out of being on SNL and fame, instead on infamy because he broke one of society's biggest rules:he said something controversial out loud. Granted, it was in bad taste, but if that were a crime half of us would be in jail. It's just important to remember that your language on a work-based podcast should be professional, which I realize cannot be defined easily, but maybe stay away from slang and cursing. Just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD.

[disruptedvice]

Two wrongs don’t make a right (but a double negative does make an affirmative)

A fluff/humor Peraltiago get together one shot

That Monday was the slowest day at a police precinct since police were even invented. The slowest day in history for cops and criminals (no robbers to catch, no nothin'). The slowest day since police even started being a thing, according to Jake Peralta.

It was the most boring day at work he had ever had. And it wasn't just him that thought the day was boring. Everyone was bored. Terry, Charles, Rosa, Hitchcock, Scully, and even Santiago was bored. She loved boring stuff. She got excited by boring stuff.

But even that Monday was too boring for Santiago.

Just paperwork, and then when that ran out it was just sitting there. There wasn't even enough paperwork to go around.

Jake never understood minesweeper and just clicked around randomly to blow stuff up, and he never had a hope of getting down the rules of solitaire. Eventually he resorted to just doing that select slide blue square with his cursor on his desktop over and over again because he was that bored.

He was so bored he couldn't even find the will to entertain himself. He couldn't be bothered to even try. Boyle kept trying to show him funny videos on youtube, but Jake was too bored to even give them a chance and just groaned every time Charles made the trip between their desks until he just stopped trying.

It was that boring.

He wasn't even tired enough to fall asleep, but he wished he was. Sleeping at his desk would be way better than this drag. But he was too awake to even get in a quick snooze and it was killing him. All this nothing.

Amy loved boring tedious stuff, but that day was too boring to even catch Amy Santiago's interest. She looked just as dead and faded as everyone else and started drawing circles on a sheet of paper because there was no paperwork to fill out after so long in. Jake would kill for some paperwork because he wanted something to occupy him other than banging his head on the desk, cause that got old (and painful) after 60 seconds.

About half an hour after Jake got home from the gray hell of work he got a text.

Amy: Are you busy? Can we talk?

Jake: I'm free as can be. You wanna come over? Or meet up or something somewhere

Not a second after he sent the text there was a knock at his door and he opened it to find his partner standing on the other side.

"I was already in the elevator when I realized I probably should have checked if you were even home first so it would be a little less rude," she explained looking like a mix between apologetic and hesitant as he let her inside.

"Is everything okay?" He asked out of genuine concern. Amy didn't do stuff spring of the moment, and she never just popped in on people. She always gave advanced notice on any and everything, and she never stopped by anyone's place for a visit just because she happened to be in the neighborhood. So he assumed it must be bad for her to forget to warn him until she was already in the hallway of his apartment building. He was actually afraid that someone might have died, but she didn't look sad so he hoped it wasn't a death related house call.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to talk to you," she said with a half smile that made him doubt her reassurance. She took a deep breath before launching into what seemed to be a pre-planned opener into whatever she wanted to talk about.

"You know what, Jake? We're cops."

"Yeah, Ames. I know that."

"We could die tomorrow. We're always in mortal danger."

"I don't know where you're going with this..." he trailed off, half expecting her to go into an existential crisis of their chosen profession.

"I always think about what would happen if we go wrong and how that'll affect everyone we work with. But we could die literally any day. So screw everyone we work with, because if I die I want to have fucked you the night before. Or that morning. I put my life on the line and I've earned the right to be happy with you and not worry about everyone else being happy with us. But it's not like we know exactly when we're going to die, so we're just going to have to have sex on a regular basis. As in dating. You and me dating. Boyfriend girlfriend dating. This is me asking you out. If you want."

She realized that was pretty forward of her, but she decided that forward was what she needed to be. She needed to be forward and lay it all on the line exactly what she wanted from him. Because she wanted him. And from her speech it made it sound like she was sure he was going to say yes, but she wasn't sure. She decided to phrase it like she was sure so she wouldn't back down out of fear. But it was more than probable that he wouldn't want that anymore. Their timing with each other never matched up in a way that worked. But she decided that it was a good time for her and prayed that it was a good time for Jake too. A good time for both of them, at the same time. Instead of it being a good time for her and a bad time for Jake. But she went in with the hope that it was a good time for the both of them.

After she finished asking him out in a way that she thought might make him laugh (her rambling was unintentional and she didn't exactly think about phrasing the words that came out of her mouth, but afterwards it seemed like a style of confession that Jake would appreciate). But he didn't laugh, or even smile. Just silent with no response, and she realized that it probably was a bad time for Jake. Just another case of mismatched timing between the two of them.

"So let me get this straight, the most boring day since ever was the day you realize our job was so dangerous and basically yolo?" He asked, still trying to piece it all together.

"It was kind of like an epiphany," she explained. "Random perspective. You can say no. I totally get it if you've moved on from feeling all romantic-stylez about me" she informed him, dropping her confident act so he wouldn't feel bad about rejecting her when she seemed so expectant of him. Cause he was just standing there staring, and she figured that since he hadn't said yes yet he was just trying to find the best way to say no. She really did it overkill with that whole speech, didn't she? It definitely would've been a billion times less awkward if she just asked him out like a normal person instead of her almost dying speech. God, this was a huge mistake.

She wished she could just turn and walk straight out the door, but she knew she couldn't leave until he actually said a word. At least one word. She couldn't leave without him telling her yes or no. She needed an answer from him.

"God, please say something, Jake. If that sounds like something you want to do then okay, but if you don't just say no. Or something along those lines. If you don't want to do a whole romantic-stylez dating thing with me just say no and I can go," she pleaded for him to give her an answer so she wasn't just left wringing her hands in wait all night. Wringing her hands only a few feet away from him waiting for him to say a word.

"Nuh-uh. No way. Not at all," he said like she was crazy to even ask and her face fell flat. Of course she was hoping he would say yes, but he didn't need to be such a jerk about turning her down.

"Wait – I'm not saying no to you," he hastily tried to correct himself from her reaction. And he looked half frantic with flurried hands so she had no clue where he was going with it. "I'm saying no to what you're saying. I'm saying no to your no. You're wrong about how I feel. I mean, you're right, but your last few sentences were wrong. I mean... fuck," he swore before giving up and kissing her.

His hands tangled in her hair was so much better than seeing them fumble around in the air a moment before when he was talking. A moment before he shut up and gave her probably the best kiss of her life. Definitely the best kiss of her life.

She wasn't exactly expecting the kiss so when it happened all of the sudden her lips parted completely involuntarily and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and ran with it. When he was kissing her like that it wiped all trace of what he said from her mind. She couldn't remember what he said, couldn't even remember what she said. She couldn't even remember what she asked him or what she was doing there when Jake was kissing her like that. When Amy was nibbling on his bottom lip and scratching her nails down his scalp there wasn't anything else in existence. No words, no signals, no messages.

Just the kiss.

She sighed when their lips parted, but he leaned his forehead against hers so even without kissing she still had his breath mingling with hers and their hands still entangled in each other's hair, but he didn't make a move to separate any further than that.

"Yes," he breathed. "That's the word I was looking for. I'm saying yes. No to your no. Yes to your yes."

"You forgot the word yes? And you forgot any other word that could have sufficed?" She wanted to be mad cause he came that close to giving her a small heart attack because he forgot one of the most common words ever, but she couldn't stop smiling and actually chuckled because he was saying yes. He wanted that. Her. He meant yes.

"I kinda forgot most of the English language. And I forgot how to stop speaking too."

"You're such an idiot."

"Is that an epiph-y-thing-y you're just now having too?" And god, with that smile, there was definitely no way she could be mad at him now. And... she was pretty okay with that. She didn't mind.

"So, just to be clear, now that you remember the word yes, that is what you're saying?" Amy knew she probably didn't need to double check, but you couldn't blame her for wanting to hear it again. Truth be told, she wanted to kiss him again too. She wanted to hear him say yes one more time, and kiss him oh so many more times.

"Yup. Yes. We're dating now, no take backsies. You're stuck with me now that I remember word stuff."

"I think I can live with that," she told him, wrapping his arms around his neck and dragging his lips back to hers in a very, long awaited kiss. Now all they had to do was catch up on lost time.

Luckily, they had all the time in the world.

[hellsbellschime]

Even the motivations of the character in TO make no sense even by cutting all TVD ties. How come Mikael cares only for Freya? So he hates Klaus. He still has many more children. Like Rebekah is it is gender thing and he is more inclined to love a daughter than his sons. In TVD he watched Rebekah with love and longing. Even in TO it does not make sense for Mikael to suddenly change tune only for Freya that as it happens has no emotional ties with the audience. It is just a cope out.

They just showed Mikael getting out a taxi cab! Seriously! Next time have him ride the bus too.

To melt the witch. The evil witch. The wicked witch. For the princesses and the daughters. Welcome to disney. Anyone over the age of 2 is not invited.

You crone?...Are you ready? I was born ready. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? LMAO Who writes these shitty dialogues? I cringed and then burst out cackling! And this particular 'I was born ready' phrase is a freaking parody used even in great movies as a satire and is ridiculed and mocked and used as a comedic relief and here they used it as a serious response. This show is just beyond ridiculous LOL

This show is testing my patience. These writers cant be normal. This is not normal. The write a show supposedly with Klaus as their main lead. They spent money producing it. And then what? They kill Ansel for no reason and after years of hype from TVD from the times they get the chance to answer why Mikael hated Klaus and they go for...I don't know? I just did? IF THESE SHITHEADS DON'T KNOW THEN THEY SHOULDN'T WRITE! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH THEM? Yes I am salty now! A FACTORY of SALT!

Blah. The baby this, the baby that. No one cares! And maybe people would be more inclined to care if the show actually paid more attention to the things that people actually do care about. But no. We have a miracle baby to deal with because who would want to see Klaus' origins and his father and to get more depth and layers to his relationship with Mikael that didn't know he just did. But yeah. The baby is so more important. Out of every vampire story that's what is truuuuly intriguing. Sigh.

Evil plants? Really? I can't LMFAO

Cami seriously has no relevance to the plot. I have never seen this so aggressively displayed on my screen before even with other characters that were there to just be props. There is not subtlety here. You could literally trade her character with an inanimate object and nothing would change in the plot or the story or the dynamic of the characters. Her preaching is annoying and tedious and provides nothing but her character is basically a non character. Unbelievable.

PT can't emote. She just stands there with a vacant gaze.

They framed Klaus Mikaelson the mass murderer for the murder of an irrelevant character and somehow this is a great twist that makes sense and is a tipping point. I hear crickets in the distance. I have nothing.

“I would profess my innocence and BECAUSE YOU ARE YOU YOU WOULD BELIEVE ME.” This settles it then. And it summarizes Camille’s character. She is a victim and quite dumb and Klaus knows it. He has found someone to coddle him and stroke his ego and knows that she is just so naïve that no matter what in the end she will fall for his fuckery. No challenge. It is an illusion Klaus wants to maintain and Cami is there to feed it. He won’t ever find such a tool like her again no matter how he tries.

They take out Klaus. Their biggest weapon. And they run to a swamp. Yes this makes sense. I knew they were not that smart but still LOL

So Esther and Mikael were one more Stockholm syndrome. These writers just have no chill with their misogyny and offensiveness do they?

Hayley is such an asshole and the fact that they try to portray her as the selfless mother when she is being an asshole makes it a thousand times worse. For all their faults the Mikaelsons have bent over her (a nobody) and sheltered her. From the moment she decided to have that child she knew where she was getting into. She knew who Klaus was. She knew the baby would be inheriting enemies by its name only and the fact that Hayley does not want that now that does not change who the baby is -

- the enemies she speaks about will be coming from the spawn anyway and Hayley's only defense will be what? A swamp? Without the Originals protecting baby it will be easy pickings. Hayley is essentially powerless and all her power came from the Originals to which she claimed to be part of their family in spirit but obviously only when she found it convenient. So they gave her a roof. Clothes. Money. They crowned her as a Queen and indulged her wolves. They pampered her but she as always -

- bails and stabs everyone in the back when she finds something to suit her better. In the same way she was ready to sacrifice Rebekah and in the same way she is taking the baby from Klaus. Hayley is a leech. And she is not even thinking for herself. It is always what a man tells her to do and she is taking the power of others for her shield when on her own she has no worth at all. People fall like flies for her baby and she is sorry got to go because Jack wants me too and I pretend its for Hope

- and that asshole actually had the audacity to call Tyler a backstabbing piece of shit. And somehow the writers wants people to believe that we must be rooting for her? Come on now. Her only importance is because of that baby and because of that baby's connection with the Mikaelsons and she can't even remain loyal or at least logical enough to realize that she is cannon fodder and that all her worth begins and ends with the Originals she is now betraying.

"I never cared for Hayley" surprise surprise no one else did either LOL

I am crying literal tears LOL Just when I think that's it! They can't get more ridiculous they manage to top their previous crap with new one LOL Hayley in the rain in the muddy swamps in a hoodie making a Queen's speech & everyone kneels and I kneel down in hysterics LMAO I can't! That's just LMAO And PT can't support it and the concept is so ridiculous and I can't believe people wrote this and then watched it as it was acted out and said yeah we are good it is a wrap. Like how even? LMAO haha

They killed Gia. Of course they killed Gia. I don't know what I was expecting. Anything that remotely works in this show they kill it with fire. And for what? For Elijah. They kill a woman of color in such a way for a white man's male tears. I mean of course. Misogyny and racism could very well be the title of the show since it is not as if the Originals has anything Original about it.

Every character is cannon fodder. Why even bother when we already know that anyone that gets introduced is going to be irrelevant and only used for shock effect? That does not even work because they are not used properly since we all have to care only for the baby, Hayley and occasionally Cami. God forbid we care for the real Originals though. That would be unthinkable.

Okay yeah. Klamille is so healthy. I mean he does compel her and manipulates her. And he does bite her to the point of near death but it's okay. All abuse here is justified because Klaus has a plan and by all means that excuses all his abuse. Plus Cami's physical and mental health is truly expendable because Klaus' needs and plans come first and he wouldn't really hurt her. And of course she knows he is good deep down despite standing besides Gia's burned corpse. But it is fine. Klaus is good.

Cami truly reminds me those battered victims with codependency issues with their abuser that despite everything they normalize all the abuse and even glamorize it and label it as love and it becomes an unhealthy addiction that sooner or later ends with them in a hospital or in a shelter or worse in a grave. For a therapist she truly does not get that she truly needs therapy. It is not just a case of stockholm syndrome here. She is a poster child for BWS (Battered Women's Syndrome).

Klaus cursed Hayley LMAO. Now THAT I like! A glimpse of the old Klaus. More of that please! Also keeping Hayley as a wolf would definitely be a better bargain for the show. At least the wolf and the CGI will be doing a better acting.

How nice of them to resurrect Esther and to give her a red lipstick.

That's it? That is why Cami stays in NOLA and risks her life every second day? Because of Klaus? She has no other life. No other ties. No friends. But she stays for a man. That is her sole purpose. That's her sole goal. A man. A monster that abuses her and puts her in danger. The girl needs a life. She is like the cautionary tales we are told by wiser adults when we are kids and teens. Girls never put your life second for a man. Girls a man is not worth your life. Poor Cami. I feel sorry for her

This takes the cake. Snowflakes. They are defeated by snowflakes LMAO. And then Esther and Dahlia the bid bad watches get to recreate The Little House on the Prairie I CAN'T LMAO. I knew this show was bad and then I knew it was truly bad and so very bad but so bad? My bad LOL...I should have seen it coming LMAO

What is wrong with this show and babies? It is like the only thing that drives the female roles of the show. Hayley and the miracle baby that everyone is after. Freya and the baby she lost. Esther that couldn’t have babies. Dalhia that wants all babies. Rebekah that is now crazy for having a baby that hijacks a corpse. What’s even happening?

But the fact that they recognize how awful actress Phoebe is that they basically erased her from the finale LOL...And then finished it with Klaus holding a baby and saying a fairytale. Because there are always more ways to destroy his character and leave nothing standing. That was the cringiest ending I have seen in the cringiest season I have ever seen in the cringiest show that exists.

I finished S2. Not much of an accomplishment but it was a struggle because you were right. The impossible thing happened. It was far worse than S1. My mental faculties are somewhat compromised but I survived. Please PLEASE someone tell me that S3 is not even worse than S2. It just can't be. I mean at this point I will believe it because I didn't believe it for S2 but now I am believer. But how worse can it get? This was the worst thing I have seen in any television product in EVER!

LMFAOOOO yaasss the “I was born ready”, I died at that too, as well as Klaus making that epic superman jump across the church or whatever and just landing face first into the pulpit, it was hilarious. And EVIL PLANTS KILL BABBY. And the whole neverending swamp wandering with Hayley and the baby bjorn and Jackson and his bow and arrows was also hilarious, punctuated by the epic kneeling in front of Queen Hayley. And clearly the “I never cared for Hayley” was a eternally shared gif. Also I thought the way they styled Esther when she came back made her legit look like she was maybe 3 years older than Elijah, which weirded me out. And yes, the witches just died by like, choosing to die? Honestly when Klaus was like “well I guess we’re orphans now” I was like well thank you for saying that out loud Klaus because I did not even understand what the fuck was going on at that moment and I wouldn’t have taken it as Esther and Dahlia being dead. I wish Klaus had looked into the camera while he was telling his epic fairy tale to the baby at the end of the season too. And as far as I know season 2 was the worst, but season 3 is the year of Hawpe as a toddler and the Klayley custody battle, so goooooood luck with that. I only saw a few clips of it but legit must have blocked it out of my head because it took me the entire writing of this message to even remember that there was a time between Hawpe being a baby and Hawpe being a talking ginger. Godspeed to you if you can actually make it, after season 2′s finale I was like I literally cannot watch an episode of this show ever again for my entire life. 

[mikejryan]

“Informing Ourselves To Death” By Neil Postman. The following speech was given at a meeting of the German Informatics Society (Gesellschaft fuer Informatik) on October 11, 1990 in Stuttgart, sponsored by IBM-Germany.

The great English playwright and social philosopher George Bernard Shaw once remarked that all professions are conspiracies against the common folk. He meant that those who belong to elite trades -- physicians, lawyers, teachers, and scientists -- protect their special status by creating vocabularies that are incomprehensible to the general public. This process prevents outsiders from understanding what the profession is doing and why -- and protects the insiders from close examination and criticism. Professions, in other words, build forbidding walls of technical gobbledegook over which the prying and alien eye cannot see.

Unlike George Bernard Shaw, I raise no complaint against this, for I consider myself a professional teacher and appreciate technical gobbledegook as much as anyone. But I do not object if occasionally someone who does not know the secrets of my trade is allowed entry to the inner halls to express an untutored point of view. Such a person may sometimes give a refreshing opinion or, even better, see something in a way that the professionals have overlooked.

I believe I have been invited to speak at this conference for just such a purpose. I do not know very much more about computer technology than the average person -- which isn't very much. I have little understanding of what excites a computer programmer or scientist, and in examining the descriptions of the presentations at this conference, I found each one more mysterious than the next. So, I clearly qualify as an outsider.

But I think that what you want here is not merely an outsider but an outsider who has a point of view that might be useful to the insiders. And that is why I accepted the invitation to speak. I believe I know something about what technologies do to culture, and I know even more about what technologies undo in a culture. In fact, I might say, at the start, that what a technology undoes is a subject that computer experts apparently know very little about. I have heard many experts in computer technology speak about the advantages that computers will bring. With one exception -- namely, Joseph Weizenbaum -- I have never heard anyone speak seriously and comprehensively about the disadvantages of computer technology, which strikes me as odd, and makes me wonder if the profession is hiding something important. That is to say, what seems to be lacking among computer experts is a sense of technological modesty.

After all, anyone who has studied the history of technology knows that technological change is always a Faustian bargain: Technology giveth and technology taketh away, and not always in equal measure. A new technology sometimes creates more than it destroys. Sometimes, it destroys more than it creates. But it is never one-sided.

The invention of the printing press is an excellent example. Printing fostered the modern idea of individuality but it destroyed the medieval sense of community and social integration. Printing created prose but made poetry into an exotic and elitist form of expression. Printing made modern science possible but transformed religious sensibility into an exercise in superstition. Printing assisted in the growth of the nation-state but, in so doing, made patriotism into a sordid if not a murderous emotion.

Another way of saying this is that a new technology tends to favor some groups of people and harms other groups. School teachers, for example, will, in the long run, probably be made obsolete by television, as blacksmiths were made obsolete by the automobile, as balladeers were made obsolete by the printing press. Technological change, in other words, always results in winners and losers.

In the case of computer technology, there can be no disputing that the computer has increased the power of large-scale organizations like military establishments or airline companies or banks or tax collecting agencies. And it is equally clear that the computer is now indispensable to high-level researchers in physics and other natural sciences. But to what extent has computer technology been an advantage to the masses of people? To steel workers, vegetable store owners, teachers, automobile mechanics, musicians, bakers, brick layers, dentists and most of the rest into whose lives the computer now intrudes? These people have had their private matters made more accessible to powerful institutions. They are more easily tracked and controlled; they are subjected to more examinations, and are increasingly mystified by the decisions made about them. They are more often reduced to mere numerical objects. They are being buried by junk mail. They are easy targets for advertising agencies and political organizations. The schools teach their children to operate computerized systems instead of teaching things that are more valuable to children. In a word, almost nothing happens to the losers that they need, which is why they are losers.

It is to be expected that the winners -- for example, most of the speakers at this conference -- will encourage the losers to be enthusiastic about computer technology. That is the way of winners, and so they sometimes tell the losers that with personal computers the average person can balance a checkbook more neatly, keep better track of recipes, and make more logical shopping lists. They also tell them that they can vote at home, shop at home, get all the information they wish at home, and thus make community life unnecessary. They tell them that their lives will be conducted more efficiently, discreetly neglecting to say from whose point of view or what might be the costs of such efficiency.

Should the losers grow skeptical, the winners dazzle them with the wondrous feats of computers, many of which have only marginal relevance to the quality of the losers' lives but which are nonetheless impressive. Eventually, the losers succumb, in part because they believe that the specialized knowledge of the masters of a computer technology is a form of wisdom. The masters, of course, come to believe this as well. The result is that certain questions do not arise, such as, to whom will the computer give greater power and freedom, and whose power and freedom will be reduced?

Now, I have perhaps made all of this sound like a wellplanned conspiracy, as if the winners know all too well what is being won and what lost. But this is not quite how it happens, for the winners do not always know what they are doing, and where it will all lead. The Benedictine monks who invented the mechanical clock in the 12th and 13th centuries believed that such a clock would provide a precise regularity to the seven periods of devotion they were required to observe during the course of the day. As a matter of fact, it did. But what the monks did not realize is that the clock is not merely a means of keeping track of the hours but also of synchronizing and controlling the actions of men. And so, by the middle of the 14th century, the clock had moved outside the walls of the monastery, and brought a new and precise regularity to the life of the workman and the merchant. The mechanical clock made possible the idea of regular production, regular working hours, and a standardized product. Without the clock, capitalism would have been quite impossible. And so, here is a great paradox: the clock was invented by men who wanted to devote themselves more rigorously to God; and it ended as the technology of greatest use to men who wished to devote themselves to the accumulation of money. Technology always has unforeseen consequences, and it is not always clear, at the beginning, who or what will win, and who or what will lose.

I might add, by way of another historical example, that Johann Gutenberg was by all accounts a devoted Christian who would have been horrified to hear Martin Luther, the accursed heretic, declare that printing is "God's highest act of grace, whereby the business of the Gospel is driven forward." Gutenberg thought his invention would advance the cause of the Holy Roman See, whereas in fact, it turned out to bring a revolution which destroyed the monopoly of the Church.

We may well ask ourselves, then, is there something that the masters of computer technology think they are doing for us which they and we may have reason to regret? I believe there is, and it is suggested by the title of my talk, "Informing Ourselves to Death." In the time remaining, I will try to explain what is dangerous about the computer, and why. And I trust you will be open enough to consider what I have to say. Now, I think I can begin to get at this by telling you of a small experiment I have been conducting, on and off, for the past several years. There are some people who describe the experiment as an exercise in deceit and exploitation but I will rely on your sense of humor to pull me through.

Here's how it works: It is best done in the morning when I see a colleague who appears not to be in possession of a copy of The New York Times. "Did you read The Times this morning?," I ask. If the colleague says yes, there is no experiment that day. But if the answer is no, the experiment can proceed. "You ought to look at Page 23," I say. "There's a fascinating article about a study done at Harvard University." "Really? What's it about?" is the usual reply. My choices at this point are limited only by my imagination. But I might say something like this: "Well, they did this study to find out what foods are best to eat for losing weight, and it turns out that a normal diet supplemented by chocolate eclairs, eaten six times a day, is the best approach. It seems that there's some special nutrient in the eclairs -- encomial dioxin -- that actually uses up calories at an incredible rate."

Another possibility, which I like to use with colleagues who are known to be health conscious is this one: "I think you'll want to know about this," I say. "The neuro-physiologists at the University of Stuttgart have uncovered a connection between jogging and reduced intelligence. They tested more than 1200 people over a period of five years, and found that as the number of hours people jogged increased, there was a corresponding decrease in their intelligence. They don't know exactly why but there it is."

I'm sure, by now, you understand what my role is in the experiment: to report something that is quite ridiculous -- one might say, beyond belief. Let me tell you, then, some of my results: Unless this is the second or third time I've tried this on the same person, most people will believe or at least not disbelieve what I have told them. Sometimes they say: "Really? Is that possible?" Sometimes they do a double-take, and reply, "Where'd you say that study was done?" And sometimes they say, "You know, I've heard something like that."

Now, there are several conclusions that might be drawn from these results, one of which was expressed by H. L. Mencken fifty years ago when he said, there is no idea so stupid that you can't find a professor who will believe it. This is more of an accusation than an explanation but in any case I have tried this experiment on non-professors and get roughly the same results. Another possible conclusion is one expressed by George Orwell -- also about 50 years ago -- when he remarked that the average person today is about as naive as was the average person in the Middle Ages. In the Middle Ages people believed in the authority of their religion, no matter what. Today, we believe in the authority of our science, no matter what.

But I think there is still another and more important conclusion to be drawn, related to Orwell's point but rather off at a right angle to it. I am referring to the fact that the world in which we live is very nearly incomprehensible to most of us. There is almost no fact -- whether actual or imagined -- that will surprise us for very long, since we have no comprehensive and consistent picture of the world which would make the fact appear as an unacceptable contradiction. We believe because there is no reason not to believe. No social, political, historical, metaphysical, logical or spiritual reason. We live in a world that, for the most part, makes no sense to us. Not even technical sense. I don't mean to try my experiment on this audience, especially after having told you about it, but if I informed you that the seats you are presently occupying were actually made by a special process which uses the skin of a Bismark herring, on what grounds would you dispute me? For all you know -- indeed, for all I know -- the skin of a Bismark herring could have made the seats on which you sit. And if I could get an industrial chemist to confirm this fact by describing some incomprehensible process by which it was done, you would probably tell someone tomorrow that you spent the evening sitting on a Bismark herring.

Perhaps I can get a bit closer to the point I wish to make with an analogy: If you opened a brand-new deck of cards, and started turning the cards over, one by one, you would have a pretty good idea of what their order is. After you had gone from the ace of spades through the nine of spades, you would expect a ten of spades to come up next. And if a three of diamonds showed up instead, you would be surprised and wonder what kind of deck of cards this is. But if I gave you a deck that had been shuffled twenty times, and then asked you to turn the cards over, you would not expect any card in particular -- a three of diamonds would be just as likely as a ten of spades. Having no basis for assuming a given order, you would have no reason to react with disbelief or even surprise to whatever card turns up.

The point is that, in a world without spiritual or intellectual order, nothing is unbelievable; nothing is predictable, and therefore, nothing comes as a particular surprise.

In fact, George Orwell was more than a little unfair to the average person in the Middle Ages. The belief system of the Middle Ages was rather like my brand-new deck of cards. There existed an ordered, comprehensible world-view, beginning with the idea that all knowledge and goodness come from God. What the priests had to say about the world was derived from the logic of their theology. There was nothing arbitrary about the things people were asked to believe, including the fact that the world itself was created at 9 AM on October 23 in the year 4004 B.C. That could be explained, and was, quite lucidly, to the satisfaction of anyone. So could the fact that 10,000 angels could dance on the head of a pin. It made quite good sense, if you believed that the Bible is the revealed word of God and that the universe is populated with angels. The medieval world was, to be sure, mysterious and filled with wonder, but it was not without a sense of order. Ordinary men and women might not clearly grasp how the harsh realities of their lives fit into the grand and benevolent design, but they had no doubt that there was such a design, and their priests were well able, by deduction from a handful of principles, to make it, if not rational, at least coherent.

The situation we are presently in is much different. And I should say, sadder and more confusing and certainly more mysterious. It is rather like the shuffled deck of cards I referred to. There is no consistent, integrated conception of the world which serves as the foundation on which our edifice of belief rests. And therefore, in a sense, we are more naive than those of the Middle Ages, and more frightened, for we can be made to believe almost anything. The skin of a Bismark herring makes about as much sense as a vinyl alloy or encomial dioxin.

Now, in a way, none of this is our fault. If I may turn the wisdom of Cassius on its head: the fault is not in ourselves but almost literally in the stars. When Galileo turned his telescope toward the heavens, and allowed Kepler to look as well, they found no enchantment or authorization in the stars, only geometric patterns and equations. God, it seemed, was less of a moral philosopher than a master mathematician. This discovery helped to give impetus to the development of physics but did nothing but harm to theology. Before Galileo and Kepler, it was possible to believe that the Earth was the stable center of the universe, and that God took a special interest in our affairs. Afterward, the Earth became a lonely wanderer in an obscure galaxy in a hidden corner of the universe, and we were left to wonder if God had any interest in us at all. The ordered, comprehensible world of the Middle Ages began to unravel because people no longer saw in the stars the face of a friend.

And something else, which once was our friend, turned against us, as well. I refer to information. There was a time when information was a resource that helped human beings to solve specific and urgent problems of their environment. It is true enough that in the Middle Ages, there was a scarcity of information but its very scarcity made it both important and usable. This began to change, as everyone knows, in the late 15th century when a goldsmith named Gutenberg, from Mainz, converted an old wine press into a printing machine, and in so doing, created what we now call an information explosion. Forty years after the invention of the press, there were printing machines in 110 cities in six different countries; 50 years after, more than eight million books had been printed, almost all of them filled with information that had previously not been available to the average person. Nothing could be more misleading than the idea that computer technology introduced the age of information. The printing press began that age, and we have not been free of it since.

But what started out as a liberating stream has turned into a deluge of chaos. If I may take my own country as an example, here is what we are faced with: In America, there are 260,000 billboards; 11,520 newspapers; 11,556 periodicals; 27,000 video outlets for renting tapes; 362 million TV sets; and over 400 million radios. There are 40,000 new book titles published every year (300,000 world-wide) and every day in America 41 million photographs are taken, and just for the record, over 60 billion pieces of advertising junk mail come into our mail boxes every year. Everything from telegraphy and photography in the 19th century to the silicon chip in the twentieth has amplified the din of information, until matters have reached such proportions today that for the average person, information no longer has any relation to the solution of problems.

The tie between information and action has been severed. Information is now a commodity that can be bought and sold, or used as a form of entertainment, or worn like a garment to enhance one's status. It comes indiscriminately, directed at no one in particular, disconnected from usefulness; we are glutted with information, drowning in information, have no control over it, don't know what to do with it.

And there are two reasons we do not know what to do with it. First, as I have said, we no longer have a coherent conception of ourselves, and our universe, and our relation to one another and our world. We no longer know, as the Middle Ages did, where we come from, and where we are going, or why. That is, we don't know what information is relevant, and what information is irrelevant to our lives. Second, we have directed all of our energies and intelligence to inventing machinery that does nothing but increase the supply of information. As a consequence, our defenses against information glut have broken down; our information immune system is inoperable. We don't know how to filter it out; we don't know how to reduce it; we don't know to use it. We suffer from a kind of cultural AIDS.

Now, into this situation comes the computer. The computer, as we know, has a quality of universality, not only because its uses are almost infinitely various but also because computers are commonly integrated into the structure of other machines. Therefore it would be fatuous of me to warn against every conceivable use of a computer. But there is no denying that the most prominent uses of computers have to do with information. When people talk about "information sciences," they are talking about computers -- how to store information, how to retrieve information, how to organize information. The computer is an answer to the questions, how can I get more information, faster, and in a more usable form? These would appear to be reasonable questions. But now I should like to put some other questions to you that seem to me more reasonable. Did Iraq invade Kuwait because of a lack of information? If a hideous war should ensue between Iraq and the U.S., will it happen because of a lack of information? If children die of starvation in Ethiopia, does it occur because of a lack of information? Does racism in South Africa exist because of a lack of information? If criminals roam the streets of New York City, do they do so because of a lack of information?

Or, let us come down to a more personal level: If you and your spouse are unhappy together, and end your marriage in divorce, will it happen because of a lack of information? If your children misbehave and bring shame to your family, does it happen because of a lack of information? If someone in your family has a mental breakdown, will it happen because of a lack of information?

I believe you will have to concede that what ails us, what causes us the most misery and pain -- at both cultural and personal levels -- has nothing to do with the sort of information made accessible by computers. The computer and its information cannot answer any of the fundamental questions we need to address to make our lives more meaningful and humane. The computer cannot provide an organizing moral framework. It cannot tell us what questions are worth asking. It cannot provide a means of understanding why we are here or why we fight each other or why decency eludes us so often, especially when we need it the most. The computer is, in a sense, a magnificent toy that distracts us from facing what we most needed to confront -- spiritual emptiness, knowledge of ourselves, usable conceptions of the past and future. Does one blame the computer for this? Of course not. It is, after all, only a machine. But it is presented to us, with trumpets blaring, as at this conference, as a technological messiah.

Through the computer, the heralds say, we will make education better, religion better, politics better, our minds better -- best of all, ourselves better. This is, of course, nonsense, and only the young or the ignorant or the foolish could believe it. I said a moment ago that computers are not to blame for this. And that is true, at least in the sense that we do not blame an elephant for its huge appetite or a stone for being hard or a cloud for hiding the sun. That is their nature, and we expect nothing different from them. But the computer has a nature, as well. True, it is only a machine but a machine designed to manipulate and generate information. That is what computers do, and therefore they have an agenda and an unmistakable message.

The message is that through more and more information, more conveniently packaged, more swiftly delivered, we will find solutions to our problems. And so all the brilliant young men and women, believing this, create ingenious things for the computer to do, hoping that in this way, we will become wiser and more decent and more noble. And who can blame them? By becoming masters of this wondrous technology, they will acquire prestige and power and some will even become famous. In a world populated by people who believe that through more and more information, paradise is attainable, the computer scientist is king. But I maintain that all of this is a monumental and dangerous waste of human talent and energy. Imagine what might be accomplished if this talent and energy were turned to philosophy, to theology, to the arts, to imaginative literature or to education? Who knows what we could learn from such people -- perhaps why there are wars, and hunger, and homelessness and mental illness and anger.

As things stand now, the geniuses of computer technology will give us Star Wars, and tell us that is the answer to nuclear war. They will give us artificial intelligence, and tell us that this is the way to self-knowledge. They will give us instantaneous global communication, and tell us this is the way to mutual understanding. They will give us Virtual Reality and tell us this is the answer to spiritual poverty. But that is only the way of the technician, the fact-mongerer, the information junkie, and the technological idiot.

Here is what Henry David Thoreau told us: "All our inventions are but improved means to an unimproved end." Here is what Goethe told us: "One should, each day, try to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it is possible, speak a few reasonable words." And here is what Socrates told us: "The unexamined life is not worth living." And here is what the prophet Micah told us: "What does the Lord require of thee but to do justly, and to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God?" And I can tell you -- if I had the time (although you all know it well enough) -- what Confucius, Isaiah, Jesus, Mohammed, the Buddha, Spinoza and Shakespeare told us. It is all the same: There is no escaping from ourselves. The human dilemma is as it has always been, and we solve nothing fundamental by cloaking ourselves in technological glory.

Even the humblest cartoon character knows this, and I shall close by quoting the wise old possum named Pogo, created by the cartoonist, Walt Kelley. I commend his words to all the technological utopians and messiahs present. "We have met the enemy," Pogo said, "and he is us."

[vas-ncrmandy]

B A S I C S :

FULL NAME: Emery Alexander Parkinson

NICKNAME(S): Emery, to one and all. 

DATE OF BIRTH / AGE: June 19th / 23

ORIENTATION: Bisexual, largely not interested. 

OCCUPATION: Necromancer.

SPECIES: Wizard, pureblood.

ETHNICITY: Scandinavian, some Irish descendants.

NATIONALITY: English.

P H Y S I C A L :

FACE CLAIM: Paul Wesley

HEIGHT: 6′1′’

WEIGHT: 172lbs

EYES: Green

HAIR: Light brown, tending to blonde.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: A few deep scars along arteries - remnants of what the sacrifices demanded, and a large black tattoo along his neck that states his profession and lifestyle as a necromancer. 

B A C K G R O U N D :

HOMETOWN: In what was once Kungahälla, in the more modern Bohuslän.

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Blackstone - what is a ruin of a castle to muggles, one that repels, is actually a soaring castle of obsidian settled over a vast kingdom of catacombs and tombs beneath the earth.

LANGUAGES: Necromancer sign language, english, gaelic, and old viking. 

EDUCATION: Five years of magical education at Hogwarts, a lifetime of learning necromancy. 

PARENT: Adalrico Parkinson

PARENT: Christine Parkinson

SIBLING(S): Iolite Parkinson (older sister), Jasper Parkinson (younger brother)

ROMANTIC STATUS: Single. 

PET(S): None.

T H E A B S T R A C T :

FEARS: Inadequacy - to be a chosen of Death is no small feat. Through a series of exchanges, sacrifices, and negotiations, Emery learned not to fear the things those living a normal life fear. The dark is the friend of the dead, and to fear one’s own end is to fear everything. The only thing Emery fears is not fulfilling his duty - speaking or interfering where it is forbidden. He is beholden to powers far greater than any walking the earth at this moment - and thus a betrayal of those powers would reap far greater consequences than anyone can imagine. 

GENERAL LIKES: The cool side of the pillow when he lays down his head to rest his eyes, the soothing press of darkness on his senses as he steps into the Catacombs, and the sweet heady scent of Death. Deep red wines, the sticky feel of summer fruit in his hands, and a fireplace burning late into the night casting warm light over a chiseled jaw and dangerous hands. The sound of laughter in the distance as he walks towards Pack grounds, and the sense of belonging he feels when the tower’s of Blackstone soar over the horizon as he heads home after a long night out. The color blue, smooth marbles and obsidian under his palm, and the scent of vanilla and cloves.  

GENERAL DISLIKES: The hope in people’s voices when they ask him the only question every one asks him, and the disappointment when he shakes his head no. The loneliness he feels sometimes when he watches the Pack or the Order laughing with each other. Melancholy instead of gravitas, fear of death, and metals with no purpose other than that of looking beautiful. Liars, and people who climb the ladder of influence on the backs of those they love. Empty promises and the cloying taste of too much sugar.

USUAL MOOD / EXPRESSION: Stoic to a fault, he’s prone to small smiles through his usual unchanging demeanor. His lack of expression can throw some off, but once they understand his sign language they can see the small hints of body language that betray his mood. 

POSITIVE TRAITS: Lack of speech, and an interest in the lives of those around him, have lead to him being an extraordinary listener. Necromancy requires an infinite patience, and a deep understanding of human behavior. His neutrality allows him to see both sides of every conflict. Emery has a dry sense of humor, and a fondness for his family that makes him warm to those who pay attention. 

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Loyal to a fault to his calling, Emery will never take sides. This can frustrate those who expect him to fight for them because they are friends. That and he can be incredibly judgmental. First impressions are hard for him to shake. He is prideful, and tends to forget that time does not move as slowly for others as it does for him. He’ll sometimes show up late to appointments or forget them entirely. 

HABITS: He has a small, smooth stone he carries with him everywhere, and fiddles with in his pocket. Its a safety net, a reminder of home even when he is very far from Blackstone’s walls. Emery also tends to run his hands through his hair when he is uncomfortable - usually its an indicator he’s seeing a Death he does not like. 

HOBBIES: He is a gifted sculptor, like all Parkinsons, and enjoys creating new pieces in his free time.  He also loves to walk. Apparating makes him feel like he’s going to slip from one world to the next and forget how  to find his way back, so he tends to talk a walk at least once in the day.     

MORNING ROUTINE: He rarely sleeps, but he does like to find himself in either his bed or a bed for at least an hour in the night so he can meditate. When the sun rises, he wakes with it. He’ll eat a piece of fruit for breakfast, usually while walking the grounds of Blackstone, and watch the sun rising. He’ll then decide who to visit that day, and begin his trek to their residences. Some days he simply heads into Diagon Alley and spends his day observing the world and marking notable Deaths. 

NIGHTLY ROUTINE: The night is deep and full of shadows, and Emery usually finds himself staying awake long into the wee hours of the early morning. If he is at home, he’ll wander the Catacombs under the cover of the darkness the Dead find most comfortable. If he is elsewhere, he’ll seek out those who find comfort in the hours most ignore and listen to them - finding the roles they play in the drama of the current times. 

DEADLY SIN: Pride

ZODIAC: Gemini

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Ravenclaw. 

CLASS & SPECIALIZATION: Necromancer, duh.

S T A T U S :

DEVELOPMENT: In progress.

SHIPPING: None, as of yet.

CANON VERSE: Marauders era AU OC. 

AU VERSE: None yet. 

R E L A T I O N S H I P S :

RALEIGH FIELDSWORTHY: There are few people who respect Death the way Raleigh does, and thus Raleigh provides an eye of the storm for Emery to be calm. The blood on Raleigh’s hands does not offend, but intrigue, and Raleigh’s quiet pride matches Emery’s own in a way that leaves him breathless. 

PASHA BESMERTNY: Where Raleigh is an embodiment of the calm of Death, Pasha is life. Emery finds himself drawn to the man. He does nothing but listen, and still isn’t entirely sure Pasha knows what he is saying when he signs it, but Pasha is blood pumping in Emery’s ears, a heartbeat racing against his ribs, and sweat on his brow running down his sternum - a reminder that, first and foremost, Emery is still alive. 

MARY MACDONALD: She is kissed by Death, caressed by Life, and a magnet for Emery’s attention. A woman who stands as a perfect mix of the two poles of existence, who throws herself with wild abandon into Death’s embrace and yet will remain Alive long after the one’s she protects are gone. Emery adores being around her, and finds any excuse to watch her life unfold.  

PETER PETTIGREW: A complicated man with complicated reasons and too many eyes for Emery to be ever completely relaxed in his presence. Peter will be the cause of many Death’s that Emery has seen, and that makes him irresistible. He is also the only man to know Emery’s language almost as intimately as Emery’s own family. That creates a draw that cannot be ignored. 

H I S T O R Y :

“Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.”

The Parkinson family pledged itself to Death many ancient centuries ago.

When the Kunghälla still bustled, teeming with generations upon generations all living and dying in the same homes as those who came before; when Blackstone still soared above the countryside, proud and strong, and the people still looked to their lords to lead them out of the cold dark of the long winters into the light of spring; the Third Lord of the Blackstone sought knowledge above all else.

He spent decades scanning horizons, mapping the surrounding lands, and taking down history after history of the families that lived in the Kunghälla. He wrote volumes on the traditions and the beliefs of the people he loved and protected and wrote even more on the things he learned from the celestial heavens above. Strange, the other pureblood families would murmur, to take such an interest in the muggles – its bizarre. But Cobalt Parkinson never heard them.

Year by year, the Parkinsons grew more remote in their home of black obsidian. They came to fewer and fewer gatherings, until the only time they emerged was Walpurgis night – but who in their right mind would miss the Walpurgis celebration after all?

They say he must have found the rituals at Durmstrang – where else would magic so Dark be found? But some still say he found them in one of his travels to the South American jungles. Death magic was strong there, they said, he must have heard a whisper and brought its foulness here.

In truth, Cobalt would laugh to himself at the irony, the rituals and their ceremonies had always been in England. Who else would seek to conquer Death, but those who thought themselves the conquerors of the world?

It seemed the obvious next step for a man such as he – one who had learned all he could from the world of the living and burned with the desire to learn from the land of the dead. So, he found them, each and every one, and, with the aid of his wife – once an Innes daughter, now a Parkinson made of stone – Cobalt traded his voice, his life, and his birth-rite to learn the secrets of Death.  

Cobalt Parkinson saw Death and knew its secrets. He walked among the purebloods and knew their faults, knew their virtues, and knew their ends. He saw them, as they were without their gilded robes and magic, and he pledged that the Parkinsons would, from now and forever more, be separate from their games and their machinations.

They would be Deaths own, and no more.

For some time, they remained that way. In their distance the family built their crypts and their Catacombs. Deeper they dug, and families traveled far and wide to reserve their space in the great City of the Dead with its silent caretakers, and reverent rituals. As their renown grew, so too did their influence, and as their influence spread across the Wizarding World, so too did the greed of the new Caretakers.

As the centuries marched on and Cobalt’s intent was forgotten, the Parkinsons slowly rejoined the rest of the world, allowing themselves to bring their influence to the meetings of the Great Houses. As they allowed themselves to twine more closely with the secular world of the living, fewer and fewer Parkinson sons allowed themselves to become Necromancers as Cobalt did.

The City was still cared for – what did it matter if they could not speak to the Dead? What could they have to offer anyway? Did their ancestors not keep detailed records? Could they not find all they needed in those?

The old paths grew dusty, the ritual circles lay dormant, and, bit by bit, the books were set aside.

This was the world in which Emery was born – one of influence and design, one of the old mixing with the new.

A voracious learner from the start, his father doted. Cobalt reborn, he would boom with pride, running a hand along his wife’s hair, He’ll walk the old paths, mark me.

And walk them he did. His father hid nothing from him, and Emery grew up knowing the names of his ancestors long gone better than the names of the Aunts and Uncles who visited for the holidays. By the time he could walk, he knew every twist and turn of the Catacombs below Blackstone as though the map were imprinted in his very soul. Emery Parkinson grew up with the knowledge imprinted deep in his bones that he belonged, completely and utterly, to the old magic.

When he came home, his third year and began the transitions, his parents were hardly surprised. His elder sister, Ionite, was always the heir, so Emery was hardly needed. His mother helped him learn the sign language – she had always had a gift for languages, born of the Lestrange’s affinity for codes, doubt – and his father held him steady to the pledge of truth.

His fourteenth year of life was spent speaking only to three people – each chosen for their symbolic presence in his life. By the time Emery reached the year of silence, he knew he had chosen the right path.

His year amongst the Dead – locked in the Catacombs alone – is a year he does not dwell on. It is for him and those who came before to know, and not for the world of the Living. The first time Cobalt rose from his tomb and wandered the twists and turns with him, Emery thought he was going mad – by the time he walked the paths for the last time, he found himself loathe to leave.

Now, three years past his initiation as a Necromancer, Emery finds himself watching the world plunge into madness. It is a dangerous time to be bound to neutrality – especially when his own family name is pledged to the side of a man who seeks to defile Death.

Conflicted in his choices, bound by rituals that cannot be broken, and utterly surrounded by visions of the inevitable deaths of the ones he is coming to love; Emery must find a way to navigate this war as a port in the storm.

He must find a way to ensure that all does not descend into Darkness. The world must remain balanced, and he is the only one who can see where that balance might yet still shift.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblogs #166

UPDATE 166: There Were Thousands of Words

Last time everyone had gathered at the platform where they’d enter the new universe...if they had one! Because despite things going better in this timeline, the game hasn’t been won yet, all the villains are still free and ready to cause trouble. It’s dialogue time, though, so let’s continue. There are five more conversations left for me to read.

At least Vriska is giving some time for everyone to relax for a moment and talk, instead of going straight to the strategy meeting. Maybe she has stopped playing just for a win...no, no way. But at least she’s giving time to just sit and talk.

TEREZI: 1 DON'T KNOW HOW 1 WOULD H4V3 L1V3D W1TH MYS3LF 1F 1 H4D... GON3 THROUGH W1TH 1T 

You don’t want to know. I think you’d be disgusted with yourself. Thank goodness John was around and trolls are very enduring, who knows how things would have gone if Terezi had bled to death before being able to give John instructions.

TEREZI: 1 GU3SS W3 STUCK TO OURS3LV3S MOSTLY  TEREZI: 4ND ROS3 4ND K4N4Y4 W3R3 4LL... YOU KNOW  TEREZI: SO TH4T L3FT TH3M 4ND TH31R CUT3 M4YOR S1D3K1CK TO...  TEREZI: SORT TH1NGS OUT 4MONGST 34CH OTH3R? W1THOUT 1NT3RF3R3NC3 FROM 4 BUNCH OF CR4ZY FUCK3D UP G1RLS  TEREZI: 1'M H4PPY FOR TH3M  TEREZI: 4ND... FOR M3 TOO  TEREZI: 1F YOU H4DN'T B33N 4ROUND, 1 H4V3 4 F33L1NG 1 WOULD H4V3 GOTT3N SUCK3D 1NTO SOM3 W31RD BULLSH1T W1TH BOTH OF TH3M 

Sounds accurate, and it aligns with a few messages I got pointing that out. They all have a point, yeah. I never expected Dave and Karkat would get as close as they did. Good for them!

Terezi feels strange that they’ll fight the bad guys without Vriska’s help, who I’m completely sure wouldn’t want to not take part of a good skirmish with the antagonists. I don’t know yet what she’s going to do, but I’m sure it’ll be important and significant. There’s no way she’d let it be any less than that. Terezi is also feeling pressured to the best Terezi ever, you know, since another version of her sacrificed herself so she’d be better in many ways. Hm. Well, at least now she has the support not only of John, but also of Vriska. With some luck this won’t go into a spiral of self-loathing like it happened to the other Terezi. Aranea’s absence will help with that, too, no speeches and cunning convincing at all in favor of throwing away the blindness.

Well that was a nice conversation! It’s nice to see Vriska being supportive. Then again, she’s Terezi’s moirail, that’s kind of the moirail’s duty. Still, Terezi needed to hear all that, so yeah, that’s good. Too bad that Vriska’s empathy doesn’t translate to other people, especially since right after such supportive words to Terezi Vriska proceeded to trash Tavrosprite and Jake. Next conversation is with Roxy, Dave and Rose.

Kanaya leaves, leaving Dave to talk with his family. With some luck it’ll have zero Freudian and oedipal slip-ups, but I’m not holding my breath here. Dave is not very good at keeping his mouth shut, hah! Especially when Roxy is very okay with being called mom, despite how weird Rose and Dave think it’d be.

Roxy and Dave are two people I didn’t know I wanted to see in a conversation. They both have the same propensity to weird sentences and strange metaphors, all thrown in fast-paced lines. It’s going to be like another language if they keep going, poor Rose is going to be sidelined so hard here.

DAVE: so  DAVE: you are my biological mother  ROXY: yes  DAVE: and roses  ROXY: yes  DAVE: and therefore bear at least partial and like biologically incidental responsibility for why we are both so fucked up  ROXY: yes  DAVE: but you yourself are a paradox clone  ROXY: um... i guess?  DAVE: which means  DAVE: you didnt even have bio parents  DAVE: you originated from yourself  ROXY: guess so!  DAVE: so you really dont have anyone to blame for who you are except weirdly and paradoxically yourself  ROXY: um.. y.. yes?  ROSE: Dave. 

Dave, you managed to make it all sound so weird and almost accusatory. The nice moment crashed and burned, and I don’t think anyone will be able to retrieve the black box of this airplane to see how exactly you screwed up so hard. He apologizers and reveals this way a way to try to find out about Dirk’s upbringing – and his self in the new human universe – but backtracks at the last moment.

DAVE: depends on if you want to keep sitting in this goddamn pan  ROXY: hmm i dunno  ROXY: maybe our asses are gettin too hot  DAVE: maybe you should speak for yourself  ROSE: DAVE!  DAVE: SHIT  ROXY: lol 

I knew it! It didn’t take not even five minutes before it happened!

They quickly find a few similarities between their lives, mostly about how lonely they were, only having people to talk with through the Internet. At least they’re having fun talking about their hobbies, and Dave sounds genuinely interested about knowing Roxy better. Soon it’s Dave’s turn to give answers. She’s hella impressed with how Rose and Dave reached god tier status. She’s also prone to asking about Dave’s love life. Hoh, too bad this Dave doesn’t remember saying Jane was hot.

DAVE: awesome thanks mom  DAVE: roxy i mean  ROSE: Dave, even I'm having less trouble referring to Roxy by her name consistently, and I was the one who grew up knowing her as my literal mother.  ROSE: What is going on with you? 

He wanted a mom, I guess. I mean, he grew with pretty much no female influence in his life, I can’t rule out that during quite some time Dave wanted to have a maternal figure in his life, and now there it is, and although Dave really doesn’t want to think of her as his mother, he still slips a lot about that. Well, there’s also that like I said Dave has a terrible brain-to-mouth filter. He’s going to call Roxy ‘mom’ a few hundred more times before he stops for good.

DAVE: see rose yall worrying about nothing as usual  DAVE: moms fine with it  DAVE: moxy  ROXY: snort  DAVE: i mean  DAVE: romy  DAVE: mommy  DAVE: wait fuck  DAVE: ok that one was fucked up  DAVE: lets make sure i never ever fucking say that again 

Rose’s going to have a field day with this conversation.

The conversation turns to what these kids would have done if they hadn’t, you know, brought the end of the world with a game and all that. Dave may have gone into paleontology, which is a profession I don’t think many would have imagined Dave would have. Then again, he has a hobby of collecting dead stuff, so there’s a precedent. Rose...hm, maybe she really would have gone for psychology, even though she says she’d have been satisfied with naming herself a psychologist without going through higher education. I can’t imagine what Roxy would have been if she had lived in a normal world. She’s a smart gal, I’m sure she’d have gotten far in anything she chose, most likely in a scientific profession.

I think Dave likes Vriska very much. There goes Vriska again, butting into other people’s conversations. I guess it’s forgivable, given that Rose was talking about her Sburb quest and Vriska is a Light player too. She’s the one most qualified to say something about it.

VRISKA: I don't have any opinion on whether you do it or not, Rose. That's your 8usiness.  VRISKA: 8ut my advice is, if you see your denizen, just make sure you kill her fast. 

Nevermind, her advice sucks. Talking with the denizen has been very useful for everyone who bothered to do it. Don’t fight your denizen unless it’s necessary for any Choice you need to make, Rose. And then...then this story takes a swerve to the very strange and unexpected.

...the heck? Are there going to be two Rose now? Huh. Well, guess your plan to use the sprites to resurrect anyone slain in the future has been summarily destroyed, Vriska, but this may be good! Rose is smart and now she has sprite knowledge and powers, and given that she was a Seer of Light, I think she may be able to gain some good information and intel. Rosesprite seems to be taking all this rather well, unlike alive Rose. The problem I see here is that this sprite has been prototyped only once. Hmmm...maybe resurrection through sprites isn’t off the table yet, although I really don’t think many would be okay with merging with Rose.

You know what I just realized? That everyone is panicking way too much about touching sprites that have been prototyped only once. It doesn’t seem to me like...those who are destined to be alive and well can be prototyped? I mean, everyone sentient who has been prototyped was dead or slated for death already. John once touched his once-prototyped sprite and nothing happened. Who knows...maybe that was just Hussie not having defined all rules yet.

At least Rosesprite is seeing the boon of newly-gained insight as a mystical guide, even if she’s still confused about this all. The actual alive Rose doesn’t like the new development, calling it stupid. I think it can be useful.

ROSE: I seriously have the DUMBEST arc anyone could conceivably imagine.  DAVE: rose we dont have fuckin "arcs" we are just human beings

I think everyone has arcs, whether they realize it or not. That’s life. It just happens.

So, next: Kanaya, Vriska and Karkat. Why do I have the feeling Kanaya is going to find herself in middle of a shouting match.

Vriska doesn’t understand why some people like to keep their love affairs out of the public sight. Hm, that depends on the person and on the couple. Not everyone is comfortable with showing a romantic relationship to the public, but it’s undeniable sooner or later it’s necessary to reveal it. Given Vriska’s personality, she’s not the type to keep her relationships in secret, so I guess this is a case of her own opinions dyeing her view of the world.

There we go, she’s saying exactly what I said about her personality! It’s so nice when I think I understand a character’s motivation and personality. I’ll just pat my back here and continue reading.

Vriska doesn’t want a relationship in any quadrant other than moirallegiance, at least for the moment. She’s fully committed to the battles to come, and romance would be distracting. Now that’s something I fully agree with. I’m remembering why I like Vriska. Guess Hussie’s growingly clumsy storytelling skills aren’t enough to make me dislike Vriska, as much as I feel compelled to. I’m not exactly a fan of hers anymore, but...she’s okay. That’s it.

The concept of siblings and parents are as unfamiliar and alien to trolls as the concept of ‘incestuous slurry’ and culling being a normal everyday thing is to humans. I like that Hussie touches onto the detail that both cultures differ and acknowledge it aloud, even though they both had enough time to get used to it all.

Karkaroni gets all wounded up about Vriska potentially discussing the plans for the group with Kanaya before the strategy meeting. Guess that there’s always time to tell Vriska when she’s doing something wrong! Not that Vriska would let it happen without rebuttal or any type. Step aside, Kanaya, this may get heated up.

Kanaya and Karkaroni are going to work together. Hm, could it be they’re going to retrieve the tadpole from the center of Jade’s planet?

...no, I don’t think Karkat and Vriska having kismesisitude would work at all. I don’t see any compatibility between them, and if this conversation here was Hussie attempting to set it up by trying to sell to the readers there’s a rivalry at progress here, well, he didn’t succeed at that. I’m not convinced at all. It feels...forced, unenthusiastic, nothing like other kismesisitudes I have seen in Homestuck.

At least Kanaya and Karkaroni may be rekindling their friendship. That’s nice!

Next! ARquius, Vriska, Terezi and Dave. I’m not sure how this’ll go, so let’s take a look. Oh god, this is a lot of red.

ARquius has zero bonding capacity with anyone who isn’t Dirk, apparently. No surprise there, given that Lil’Hal pretty much only got along with Dirk – barely – and Equius has no reason to care about any of the humans around here. Vriska loves that.

Since Gamzee is still locked in the fridge, Dave suggests letting him out to breathe, because being stuffed in that fridge for who knows how long must be getting tiring for him.

DAVE: i know hes complete trash but maybe we should just let him out  DAVE: whats the harm its not like he can cause much trouble  DAVE: we all way outnumber him and have way more powers and shit  TEREZI: UM...  VRISKA: No.

Hell no! Well, it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion that Gamzee is going to get away at some point, take the musical boxes and arrive to Caliborn’s side, because he’s essential for the creation of Lord English, but that doesn’t mean you should make it easier for him to get away! Not that Dave knows it, but still!

Well, no, Vriska has her own idea of how things are going to go. She knows Gamzee has a role in the new universe, so once it’s all created, she plans to just...leave Gamzee inside the fridge floating in the ocean or something, and let paradox space take him where he needs to be. Well I suppose...that’s okay...I doubt anyone would be happy about it, but then again, better to avoid a doomed timeline even after victory.

DAVE: so is johns hot mom awake yet?  ARQUIUSPRITE:                           No  DAVE: i mean  DAVE: not hot mom  DAVE: just mom  DAVE: damn  DAVE: did anyone hear that  TEREZI: Y3S  DAVE: shit 

Haha, here we go! Hey! Rose! Roxy! You have to hear this!

DAVE: how much longer til his hot moms awake  DAVE: mom  DAVE: i mean his  DAVE: not mine  DAVE: his mom not my hot mom  DAVE: my mom i mean  DAVE: fucking hell  DAVE: not my mom his  DAVE: johns hot mom  DAVE: JESUS 

No, really, you’re missing a riot over here!

ROSE: Is Dave saying inappropriate things about John's mother over there?  DAVE: no! 

A+ conversation. Thanks for this gem, Hussie, I owe you one. It has been a while since I enjoyed this much a normal conversation between Homestuck characters. It gets even better when Roxy delivers a passionate approval about Dave’s opinion regarding Jane’s attractiveness, and Terezi doesn’t waste time in letting John know about Dave’s opinion. This is fantastic!

Finally, the last one, it is John and Jake, having the one-on-one conversation they had agreed on. Hopefully John will repair some of the damage Vriska did not too long ago.

John, you’ll love everything the other you did in the alpha universe. Jake is willing to tell it all. These two are getting along rather well! Guess that’s because they’re kind of similar, not just on looks. John is more extroverted and carefree, but in the core he and Jake are more similar than they think.

John wants to meet Dad Crocker. Hm. I wonder how Dad Crocker is going to react to this kid who is, you know, his father in teen form. Guess that after being trapped in this universe and locked in a jail to interact with chess people via social network, this won’t be as strange as it’d be otherwise.

I’m glad to see John is doing everything Vriska didn’t do. Jake was still feeling rather unsure, but John is being supportive in ways Tavrosprite wasn’t. This is why John is the main character in this story, he has this way to support people and be helpful nobody else has. Look at this:

JOHN: i love the god tier pajamas, and yours are badass.  JOHN: you look like a super hero!  JAKE: Really???  JOHN: yes.  JOHN: well...  JOHN: maybe a plucky side kick, at LEAST.  JAKE: Heheheheh.  JOHN: side kicks are really under rated anyway.  JOHN: i think in some cases they might be the real stars.  JOHN: like, you know bat man?  JOHN: truth be told, i think he might just be some kind of gallivanting idiot.  JOHN: he's got all the money and skills in the world, and what does he do?  JOHN: he buys a fancy car to drive around in, then jumps out and starts punching crooks with his bare hands.  JOHN: then, when he gets horn swoggled by a wily clown with NO powers, and a LOT less money, who has to bail him out?  JOHN: his side kick of course.  JAKE: Yeah youre right!  JOHN: what is bat man even trying to prove? being all serious and "cool" looking.  JOHN: his side kick looks like he has a lot more fun, and smacks of confidence and self assurance, trotting around in his underpants.  JOHN: bat man probably doesn't even care much about stopping crime, it's more about walloping thugs and getting to feel cool.  JOHN: if he really cared about stopping bad guys, he'd probably use his fancy money to buy guns, and at LEAST show the criminals he's packing, to make them scared, if not surrender outright.  JOHN: i bet his side kick probably just has to wait for bat man to bungle things up with his stupid karate, and when he gets in trouble, the side kick just guns down all the crooks from a safe distance like a sensible person.  JAKE: Well i do love guns!!!  JAKE: ALSO fisticuffs.  JOHN: see? there you go.  JOHN: you're better than bat man already. 

 John is the best.

Karkaroni talks with the Mayor, and Tavrosprite shows allergy to cats, and that’s all. All conversations are finished! So now it’s time for the strategy meeting, so let’s get that on board. What’s the plan, commander Vriska? It starts with a reminder regarding the villains and their location. It’s nothing we didn’t know already, so for the purpose of keeping this particularly long update shorter than it’d be otherwise, I’ll just say that yeah, we all know there are many Jacks coming – and Dirk too.

Conveniently summarized here.

The plan is that they need to keep the Condesce busy and distracted, although I point Vriska’s way of doing that is by constant attacks. Jade will deal with Bec Noir and the Mendicant. Sounds good to me. Union Jack – neat name, by the way – will be fought by a group that includes Jane as a healer. That sounds good, too. Everyone else who isn’t fighting the others will deal with Jack Noir from the troll session...fine?

To keep Jane moving between the groups, Vriska decides setting portals and ways for her to come and go will be important. That sounds good too. Vriska isn’t doing half-badly with this meeting thing, honestly. She’s having sensible ideas and although her way of talking leaves a lot to be desired, the strategies themselves are good. Rosesprite will aid set up this network of instantaneous transport.

Now, combat roles! The Condesce will need to be fought by people capable of keeping her busy. Both Lalondes – which have a lot of reasons to want the Condesce dead, may I add – volunteer immediately, and John joins them. Kanaya, despite her lack of god tier powers, decides to join too. A chainsaw is a fearsome weapon, that may work. Before that Kanaya will have to do something for Vriska, though.

Jade will try to keep Bec Noir under control – not that she knows that yet – and Dave offers to fight Union Jack, saying that since everything was making lots of noise about him fighting and defeating Lord English, this is the closest thing he can do without fighting the real Lord English. Hm. Not confident yet, Dave?

VRISKA: For what it's worth, I never 8ought into the idea that you were supposed to 8e the one to kill English anyway. 

Wait, wait, let me guess: you’re going to take that honor to yourself, aren’t you? If I’m right...then you’re very easy to predict, Vriska, wow.

Terezi will join Dave in fighting Union Jack, and Dirk may join, too. Think it’s a good idea to get Dave and Dirk in the same team? Dave may get distracted. I think Dirk wouldn’t, but Dave is a completely different matter.

ARquisprite is a loose end right now.

ARQUIUSPRITE:                           Instead I would prefer to blaze my own trail, with my own hooves  ARQUIUSPRITE:   I always wanted to do something really important and heroic 

Wonder if he’d consider ‘being part of Lord English’ important enough. It’s not heroic, but it’s important for the preservation of the timeline.

Vriska, it’d be fantastic if you stopped being a slimy pile of condescension already. Thank you. Karkaroni, Jake and Tavrosprite will do what they need to do with the Jack from the troll session, even if it makes Karkat unhappy to be considered ‘one of the dregs’. No, I was wrong, Karkaroni will have to work with Kanaya in their mission. So Jake and Tavrosprite will have to do it by themselves? I’m not sure about this...not to insult Jake or anything, but one person against sixteen is kind of uneven.

Vriska, it’d also be fantastic if you stopped patting your back so hard. You’re going to shatter your spine if you say another paragraph of praises to yourself.

Karkaroni and Kanaya’s duty is pretty much what they had to do in the other timeline: go retrieve the tadpole! Yeah, thought so. I don’t think they had time to do that in the other timeline before things started to go awry, and I see nothing that could stop them from achieving it this time. Should be no problem!

John receives Earth in an 8-ball, and is told to give it to Jade later. Fixing that planet once the universe is created will be important. I’m still pretty amazed Earth could fit in a wallet.

So that’s the end of the strategy session. It was okay, I guess. My opinion of Vriska’s role in all this degraded more and more the longer this went by, honestly. I’m glad it’s over.

JOHN: vriska, what's YOUR part in all this, aside from making all these air tight plans?  JOHN: you've been making it sound like you won't be here when all this happens!  VRISKA: Of course I won't.  VRISKA: I'll 8e off doing something much more important than all this.  VRISKA: I'm traveling to the furthest ring to go kill Lord English. 

Well that was predictable. I’m not even going to feign a look of surprise here, because of course Vriska would claim for herself that fight. Augh. She’s going to take the ghost army, though, so at least she won’t be doing it all by herself.

Everyone forms their groups to start arranging their battle strategies, although Dave doesn’t like to do it without Dirk around to give input or agree about anything. There’s something disrespectful about it. Vriska gets tired of his moping and decides to bring Dirk already into the session. You could have done that long ago? Why wasn’t it done before? Really, I think...I don’t understand why not to bring him before. Dirk is brought into the platform, bouncing around, and that’s it!

And there we go! That’s the end of this update. Quite long, right? There was a lot of dialogue to read, that’s for sure. Thank you for reading this all!

Next update: next time

[ecotone99]

[SF] A College Admissions Essay From The Future President Of The World

Dear Mikirken State University Admissions Board,

For my college entrance essay, I have chosen the three prompts:

Why should we choose you for Mikirken State University?

Tell us an experience that humbled you.

What do you hope to accomplish at Mikirken State University?

I hope to prove with these essays that I am MSU material and will be a unique and valuable contribution to the MSU student body… and humanity.

Why should we choose you for Mikirken State University?

I have a 3.4 GPA, my SAT score is 1350, and I am the proud son of a hard-working single mother.

But my most important qualification is that I will become the first president of the world.

That is to say, that sometime in the year 2062, I will be inaugurated as the first president of the United World Order, a democratic, federal government with jurisdiction over the entire Earth.

Why do I know about my destiny?

Although I don’t have the full story, I have preened this information from the hundreds of time travelers who have visited, stalked and harassed me since my birth.

That might sound unusual, and it is.

At least, it is for normal people.

However, for People of Historical Interest (POHI), it’s quite regular. In fact, every POHI from the Egyptian King Narmer to the 24th century Cyber Warlord Bob has been swarmed by curious, fact-finding time travelers.

You might also think it’s strange that the time travelers have told me so much about my history. The truth is, they’re not supposed to reveal themselves as time travelers or tell me anything about the future.

But time travelers, while being generally intelligent people, are so enthusiastic about meeting historical figures that they tend to let things slip.

When I was four, our mailman would deliver mail three times a day and regularly ask if he could join us for breakfast in our home.

My mother assumed he was romantically interested in her, but it quickly became apparent that he was more interested in her parenting. What she fed me, what books she read to me, if I showed any traits that might facilitate my future greatness, etc.

He was writing a book.

They’re always writing a book.

When confronted with the fact that the post office had never heard of him and his uniform was clearly made of a chrome-colored, synthetic fiber unknown to modern science, he confessed.

Since then, my mother and I have become adept at spotting time travelers. They almost seem relieved when they’re exposed, admitting their professions, but adding that they cannot reveal anything about the future or risk dire consequences for the timeline and humanity’s destiny.

But slip-ups happen.

When I was nine, a woman asked me what influence the U.N. declaration of human rights had on my understanding of Neo-Gramscian International Relations theories.

I asked, “why?”

She said, “because you quote the declaration in your inauguration speech as first President of the United World Order in 2062.”

That’s when I knew.

Since that embarrassing slip-up, it’s been easier for me to collect information about my future self and explore why I would make a great MSU student from the perspective of Post-Doctorate level historical analysis.

In the future, I will lead a band of highly-talented individuals to save the planet from the worst effects of climate change, mitigate the chaos and violence caused by depleted world resources and unite all nations in the greatest endeavor ever taken to end war, forever.

Although I’m not the most brilliant POHI or the strongest, I have a high degree of honesty and moral courage, or so I’m told, and yet I am strangely evasive.

I will be regularly compared to Abraham Lincoln, although my place in history is closer to that of foundational leader like George Washington, speaking from a strictly American historical perspective.

Also, my favorite subjects are math and biology.

Tell us an experience that humbled you.

This answer is also related to the time traveler/future president of the world thing.

My college prep tutor told me that I needed to show a variety of experiences in my essays, but seeing as that tutor is also a time traveler in disguise, I have decided to write more about this particular aspect of my life.

I also realize that being a POHI with a constant retinue of time traveling observers hardly seems like a humbling experience.

Certainly, my mother has taken enormous pride in my future. She has used it as affirmation her all-bran breakfasts are the cornerstone of a healthy childhood. Time travelers seem reluctant or unwilling to dissuade her of that idea… unfortunately.

Nevertheless, many conversations have been disturbing.

Most travelers come from the years 2130 (roughly the year time travel was invented) through 2180. But I also get people from 2200 through 2240, a period where my legacy becomes “problematic.”

During my rise to power and administration I made (or will make) several compromises and had a variety of moral blind spots that were perfectly acceptable, or at least overlooked, until the year 2200, when citizens of the first world order start to “wake up.”

These moral failings include not recognizing Kurdistan, the Basque Country, Tibet, Somalia and France as independent states within the global federal system.

Supposedly, that’s due to the racism and ignorance of my “America-centric perspective.”

I also blocked amendments to the global constitution that would grant human rights to cyborgs and genetically enhanced humans. That backwards view will lead to a century of discrimination.

Time travelers tell me about these problems regularly with almost no observance of temporal law. I suspect that many of them hope to change the timeline, and maybe they have.

Whereas other time travelers are looking for the keys to greatness, these people are looking for the seeds of evil.

They hate bran.

My mother doesn’t like those travelers and tries to shoo them away whenever possible, but they keep coming. They argue a lot with historians that praise my administration. Sometimes, they’ll even start fist fights.

I used to argue with them too.

I’d become defensive and scream. Tell them they wouldn’t even be alive without future-me.

I’ve grown. I recognize their pain and try to listen now. They’re right to be angry or even hate me, because I could have easily made their lives easier by a simple admission of their humanity.

But I didn’t (or won’t).

These historians have made me realize that I’m not perfect, and I never will be.

How I come to forget these lessons in the future is beyond me. I suspect that I will be forced to compromise my morality for some sort of greater good.

I don’t know.

But I’m the only person who regrets something they haven’t done yet.

What do you hope to accomplish at Mikirken State University?

As you are probably aware, Mikirken State University currently ranks towards the bottom of universities nation-wide. There are almost no notable alumni or programs with significant acclaim.

I’m sorry for my honesty and the arrogance of this observation — but why would the future president of the world want to go to your university?

This application was inspired by one time traveler from the year 2567.

You see, after the year 2240, I stop being a POHI with such an emotionally controversial legacy and I start becoming a stale subject of academic interest.

I still get visitors from past that year, but they usually stay hidden, my failings and victories too distant to be provocative.

One morning, a dirty old man burst into my bedroom. His eyes were blood-shot and crazy. His hair hadn’t been washed in some time and he had a long, wiry beard.

He made no attempt to disguise himself for our time. Instead, his clothes were dirty and as grey as his beard.

I thought it was a time assassin, but before I could even scream, he held his hand to my mouth and pleaded with me to hear him out. I figured I had no other choice.

He told me that in his era, the government I founded is gone. The world is suffering from a terrible, man-made blight that’s left billions to starve to death. Competing cults have turned people against each other and freely destroy the world’s technological infrastructure and kill off engineers and scientists.

War and nuclear destruction envelope large sections of the planet. The ideals of justice, equality and freedom are taboo. Even the words used to describe them are being expunged from the future global languages.

The man told me he had saved the last known time traveling device and used its last charge to come talk to me.

He knew that in his distant past I prevented the horrors his world faced. He and his followers had come to worship me as their last hope for fixing a broken world.

And after telling me every detail of his time, he asked what I would do to heal the planet.

I said, “dude, I’m only 12.”

It wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

I never saw him again, and I’ve never seen a traveler from after 2567.

That doesn’t mean civilization was wiped out. It could be that my legacy was cleaned from history or time travel was banned or many other possibilities.

But getting back to the question — why MSU?

Right now, your institution may not be the best. And it won’t become significant in the next century. Or the century after that. Or the one after that.

Nevertheless, by 2567, it will be the last institution of higher learning left on the entire planet (at least, as far as that man knew). It’s from your university that that desperate man made his journey.

To be precise, he traveled from the basement of science center, which still exists in 2567.

I didn’t have an answer for him when I was twelve, but I plan on spending the next four years looking for one and leaving it for him.

I’ve been told (indirectly) that my college years don’t actually matter. There’s no record of my experiences during those years, and I will one day confess to being kind of idiot during this future time.

And so, I am not interested in a specific program, a career track, or even a degree.

I only hope to answer that one man.

I have included these essays along with my transcripts and other application materials.

Thank you for your time and consideration, and I hope to speak with you soon about my joining the student body.

Go Mavericks!

submitted by /u/Consito [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2WF9J1Z

[headquartersforlievmuses]

► Cassandra Cain

Cassandra Cain is the fourth Batgirl. Born with the assassins David Cain and Lady Shiva as her parents, she was trained to become the perfect warrior. Her father deprived her of speech so she would learn movement and physicality as her first language. Batman adopted her into the Batman Family during No Man's Land, to replace Helena Bertinelli as Batgirl. Cassandra would eventually turn her Batgirl costume over to Stephanie Brown, and become a member of Batman Incorporated as Black Bat.

The daughter of David Cain and Sandra Wu-San (Lady Shiva), Cassandra Cain was conceived and trained from birth with the intention of creating the perfect bodyguard for Ra's al Ghul. After many unsuccessful attempts to train children from birth in martial arts to make them inculcate it like a native language (the most successful being The Mad Dog), David Cain, then a member of Ra's League of Assassins, decided the right genes were necessary to create this "Who Is All". With Ra's go ahead Cain searched for the perfect mother for this child, finding her in the Wu-San sisters of Detroit, who practiced martial arts with each other nearly every moment of their childhood in a type of sister's language. Cain sympathized with the younger sister, Sandra, when he noticed that she held back out of love for Carolyn. To "help" Sandra reach her full potential, Cain murdered Carolyn, then lured Sandra into an ambush by the League of Assassins, where he defeated her. Cain spared Sandra from death on the condition that she bear his child, and leave her for him to raise. Awed by the potential heights she could reach in her physical talents now that Carolyn was gone, Sandra agreed to Cain's bargain in order that she might go on to become the unstoppable force of nature known as Lady Shiva: creator and destroyer. Shiva's hope for her child was that she might one day grow to be the force that could stop her reign of destruction.

Trained by her father to be the ultimate weapon, Cassandra was not taught to speak. Instead, he relied mostly on actions to communicate with her. Also, he cut her off from the outside world, only exposing her to anything or anyone other than him only when absolutely necessary. As a result, the parts of her brain normally used for speech and language processing were trained so she could read other people's movements and body language to recognize their thoughts without verbal communication and predict, with uncanny accuracy, their next move in a fight. This also caused her brain to develop learning functions different from most, a form of dyslexia that hampers her ability to talk, read, and write.

When she was 8 years old, Cain decided his experiment had progressed far enough for him to test Cassandra's abilities in the real world, and took her to a hit; the target being Faizul, a 'book man' in Macau. At the time Cassandra had no idea what she was doing and believed it was only a game (an interpretation in keeping with her own reaction to what happened, and matching the interpretation of Alfred Pennyworth, an expert on children who saw a tape of events). After striking a deathblow, she "read" the target as he died, and saw death as he saw it.

In addition to scarring her emotionally, she realized murder, like her father's profession, was wrong, and she ran away.

Cassandra spent the next nine years homeless, guilt- and fear-ridden as she traveled the world. Entering Gotham City at 17, Cassandra came to be of Oracle's agents in the No Man's Land of Gotham City. After saving Commissioner Gordon's life from her assassin father, she was given the Batgirl costume with the approval of both Batman and Oracle. She became Barbara's ward and in a sense, the Batman's adoptive daughter. As the No Man's Land wore on, the new Batgirl was introduced to the rest of the Bat-Family with varying levels of acceptance. Usually acting as the Batman's watchful eye, she was finally allowed to go on a solo mission when a petrol station needed guarding against a local gang. Near the end of No Man's Land, Batman noticed her death wish and forced her to make a decision between suicidal actions and self preservation. She opted for self preservation.

Despite her notable handicap of being unable to talk, read, or write, Cassandra did remarkably well. Capable of understanding others' intentions due to her ability to read body language she was a more than capable listener, despite the fact she couldn't process their words or reply to them. It was this trait that made her one of the Batman's most loyal and trusted followers and helped her to survive when the Bat-clan became hunted by the Bloodhawks. Although the fact that she couldn't talk frustrated Barbara Gordon, she proved herself useful in other ways during a team with the spectral vigilante Ghost in tracking disappearing corpses. The running successes and final understanding of her mission as Batgirl allowed Batman to give her the privilege of running solo in Gotham City on the condition that she faced no 'costumed criminals' (Joker, Bane, Two-Face, Penguin, etc)

From going undercover in Madras with Batman to saving local heroes from the mob, Cassandra continued to impress as the new Batgirl. Especially when, despite Batman's warnings, she went face to face with a meta-human and won. She even managed to, despite her restriction to Gotham City, make it on the reserve member list of Young Justice.

But Cassandra's career was not the only thing that was growing. In the background a rift between Oracle and Batman was slowly emerging, as was the growing image of Batman as a father figure in Cassandra's eyes but the major development was David Cain's intentions to get his daughter back.

Cassandra began training immediately; going after every talented fighter she came across in order to gain more skills. After hearing how notorious the Joker was with the Bat-clan, she freed him in order to apprehend him again in order to gauge just how good he was. Batman and Oracle deduced that Cassandra had not given up her death wish and that it was due to guilt over her murdering Faizul. They began looking into what had brought the death wish back. Her reckless training was interrupted when an officer down was called over the frequencies. Batman's longtime ally and friend, Commissioner Gordon had been shot in cold blood.

It was during yet another training session in the Batcave that Cassandra first met her future friend Stephanie Brown (The Spoiler).

Unfortunately the victory would be short lived. Bruce Wayne was in jail on suspicion of murder. Cassandra arrived back at the cave in time to see Batman leave. Cassandra's resulting investigation revealed that Batman and Bruce Wayne were in fact the same person. Later she, along with Spoiler and Nightwing, discovered critical clues that pointed to Bruce Wayne's innocence and, eventually, incriminating evidence to the real culprit: David Cain. Her father safely behind bars and no battle-to-the-death with Shiva to train for, Cassandra focused on her crime fighting career.

Batgirl makes a mistake due to stress, and Oracle insists that they vacation on a cruise liner. Superboy happened to attend the same cruise, and together they stop a terrorist named Black Wind. Superboy gives Batgirl his number, and Batgirl kisses him. Batgirl goes on date with Superboy in Smallville, but they end up deciding to just be friends. Batgirl and Batman work together when Doctor Death tries to auction his chemical weapons in Gotham. They pursue him to Tarakstan, where they're forced to ally with Black Wind. Doctor Death is shot, and Black Wind sacrifices his life to contain the chemical weapons released. Before leaving the country, Cassandra, imitating a local custom, professes her feelings for him and vows to keep it a secret.

Barbara Gordon lends her old costume to Cassandra, who briefly uses it on patrol, but decides she prefers her own costume. Later, Batgirl investigates a new drug called Soul. This leads her to the Lost Girls street gang, whom Cassandra fights, unaware that the leaders are all metahumans. Midway through the fight, she accidentally swallows a Soul pill. Because Soul's effects are deterrmined by whether a person has a good or evil heart, she briefly hallucinates as her inner good and evil wrestle for control. When her evil side wins out, defeats the Girls under the Soul's influence. Later, Batgirl hunts and stops a serial killer named Doll Man. When she tries to stop a white slavery ring, but Batman shows up, angry because she ruined his sting operation. Batman tells Cassandra that she has been making too many mistakes recently, and forces her to suspend her activities as Batgirl. When Barbara tries to console her, Cassandra steals her Batgirl costume and takes to the streets. Investigating Soul again, she leads her to the scientist supplying the Lost Girls, who is revealed to be Doctor Death. Doctor Death doses Batgirl and Batman with concentrated Soul, and they fight to the death. When the effects wear off, Batgirl has a tender moment with Batman, and she explains that her father never let her display affection. Batman asks who she is loyal to, and Batgirl responds that she is loyal not to him but to their symbol. Robin takes Doctor Death into custody. Cassandra begins enjoying her new freedom, and Oracle takes her to a public garden. This garden is revealed to be a plot by Poison Ivy to recreate the Garden of Eden. Batgirl burns down Ivy's Tree of Knowledge, from which the entire garden grew from, stopping her.

Cassandra joined the Justice League Elite, masquerading as an assassin named Kasumi to monitor the team for Batman and participated in several missions with them. Ultimately she helped them save the world from the Worlogog and a psychic impression of Manchester Black that had taken over the team's leader, Vera Black. She revealed herself to her teammate Coldcast to tell him that he was not a bad guy before he was accused of murder. She personally stood by him in clearing his name.

Feeling partially responsible for what happened to her, Batman allowed her to return after a strict detoxification program and gave her a strict curfew. Nightwing however was not so accepting, regarding her with open hostility and suspicion. When Cassandra began seeking vengeance upon her father and Slade, she had to do it secretly due to their mistrust. Unfortunately her activities eventually were found out, resulting in her clashing with Nightwing and stealing a Batwing from the Batcave. However, the ordeal resulted in Cassandra officially adopted as Bruce Wayne's daughter.

With Batman's invitation Cassandra began working in the Outsiders team and, despite some mistrust from some members due to her recent activities, was accepted as part of the team. When Batman suddenly disappeared without word or warning, the Outsiders went looking for him all across Gotham. Cassandra went to the Iceberg Lounge to question Penguin about Batman's whereabouts, but learned nothing from him and instead she was forced to deal with Johnny Stitches. Back at their headquarters, the Outsiders received a message from Batman, but Batgirl noticed that he wasn't the real man. However, she decided to play along the impostor's plan, allowing REMAC to be injected wit a virus that caused him to die in a explosion that left Thunder in a coma. Batgirl was blamed for the disaster and the Outsiders disbanded. Afterwards, Batgirl went to the Batcave, where she learned that the attack was part of the Black Glove's plan and she decided to reform the Outsiders.

Batgirl began recruiting heroes across Gotham that matched Batman's unique abilities in order to create a team that could replace the missing Batman and the disbanded Outsiders at the same time, but Batgirl didn't expect that Nightwing would not agree with her plan. Nightwing was having trouble coming to grips with his adoptive father's possible death, but this would eventually sort out their conflict after Alfred intervened on a fight between the two. Cassandra handed over further creation of the Network to Nightwing.

Following the Battle for Batman's cowl, Cassandra began to feel emotional about her adoptive father's death, becoming disillusioned and passing her costume on to Stephanie Brown who becomes the new Batgirl. Cassandra leaves via the Gotham Airport, warning Stephanie not to follow her. After Batman's return, it was revealed that Cassandra had handed over her Batgirl mantle to Stephanie, acting in accords with her mentor's order in the event of his death or disappearance and because giving over the role would help Stephanie become a stronger hero. Drake remained in contact with her, implying that she's been working as an anonymous agent in Batman's plans.

Cassandra later becomes an operative of Batman Incorporated protecting Hong Kong, using the suit given to her by Tim and calling herself Blackbat. Bruce Wayne has her take a neo-heroin smuggling operation.

Black Bat traveled to Paris following a homing signal to Red Robin to the final site in a tournament of assassins, saving him from being raped by Daughter of Acheron, Ra's al Ghul's half sister, and defeated the vigilante Promise while freeing Drake. Cassandra then proceeded to take a sword and impale Tim in the chest, triggering confirmation that she had won the tournament, being one of the few in history to do so, and activating a system that would 'immortalize' her, by killing her with a laser. Red Robin saved her from the beam, and then revealed they had faked Red Robin's death using a trick sword, blood packets, and a stopped heart to fool the temple's automated systems. They attempted to examine the base, but although Tim conversed with the assassin tournament's creator, a previously unknown centuries old immortal, the base self destructed before they could learn any close as to his location.

Red Robin came to Hong Kong to assist Black Bat in Cassandra's hunt for Cricket, but they were defeated by the Cricket, badly injuring Tim and promising to fight Cassandra 'For real' next time.

Powers 

Peak Human Condition: Through continuous intense training Cassandra represents the greatest fighting weapon ever conceived. She possesses peak level strength, stamina, speed and agility comparable to the finest human athlete.

Martial Arts: Due to her life long training Cassandra has a master level knowledge of all fighting arts known and unknown and continues to learn with every new opponent she faces. She was trained by her father (David Cain), along with several other members of the League of Assassins, including Bronze Tiger, Merlyn and Alpha. Upon taking the mantle of Batgirl, she was trained further by Batman, Oracle, Black Canary, and Lady Shiva. She received supplementary instruction from Onyx. She has also invented her own styles and techniques.[citation needed]

Dragon Style Kung Fu

The Falling Leaf Technique: A nerve pinch invented by Chinese monks in the 16th Century. Cassandra and her father are the only people who know how to use it.

Hand-to-Hand Combat (Advanced): Cassandra is schooled in all known and many unknown assassin techniques such as pressure points, killing techniques and stealth to name a few.

Body Reading Ability: Cassandra has the advanced ability to read body language enabling her to read what people are thinking and tell what they are going to do next before they do it. She has been shown able to read opponents far faster than herself, along with non humans and even alien lifeforms once she is given a chance to learn their body language. This enables her to identify disguised and transformed people as well.

Investigation: She was also very briefly trained in detective methods by Tim Drake during their time in Blüdhaven.

Stealth: Due to her excessive training she is also a master of stealth. This ability was furthered during her time as The Nothing and Kasumi.

Dyslexia: Due to her training using the language centers of her brain to read body language, Cassandra has extreme dyslexia, making it very difficult for her to read and write.

Over-Reliance on Body Reading Ability: While a definite strength in combat, Cassandra's ability to read body language can work against her when she can't properly discern an the intent of the opponents actions based on body language. Generally this can be happen when an opponent is very good ad disguising their intent like Slade, who can keep Cassandra distracted with subtle body language that could hint at many possible actions (Cassandra stated that when Slade moves, his body "sings like a chorus. Too fast with too many voices to pick up accurately".) In another instance it could be that an opponent isn't thinking or focusing on their movements as they make them like when Cassandra tried to stop a gunshot from a cybernetically enhanced assassin but couldn't because his cybernetics took over the aiming for him independently of his movements. The last way in which this weakness manifests is when Cassandra is facing an opponent who is mentally unstable or ill. Such an opponent is simply too unpredictable to anticipate. When Cassandra fought the Joker, the Joker had an edge in the beginning of the fight because she couldn't understand the Joker's body language or as Batman put it "she can read his body language too, but his body language just comes out as gibberish".

Cassandra has scars across her back from bullet wounds made by her father during her childhood training.

She tended to keep a rose around during her time as Batgirl.

She possess high levels of serotonin.

Due to her upbringing, Cassandra was unable to understand words being spoken and used body language to understand what people were saying. Eventually, she gains the ability to process and attach meaning to words.

She possessed a death wish due to guilt over killing that resulted in nightmares and self destructive behavior (seemingly solved after her second encounter with Lady Shiva). 

Her favorite flavor of ice cream is chocolate.

Her favorite tea is Assam.

Cassandra's first kiss was Conner Kent.

Cassandra was formally adopted by Bruce Wayne, and now goes by Cassandra Cain-Wayne.

Verses

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