#i work in stem now myself but it’s clear that so many of my colleagues did not pay attention in any of their liberal arts courses

[thatswhatsushesaid]

casually returning to hell to browse the jgy character tag

“this character was clearly intended to be viewed as a despicable and awful person by the author, why do so many people like and defend them”

not to be a disillusioned liberal arts graduate about it on main but you sound like all the STEM majors from my undergrad years who barely paid attention in class and never did any of the readings, but who also grilled me for help in advance of our final exams

it’s been 15 years and i’m still doing your homework for you

[charli-at-uni]

Me, Unfiltered

As I sat to begin writing this, I sat perplexed on what this post demanding me to deliver. A heartfelt tale of my journey that reflects my accomplishments in life. Society conditions you to humble yourself. But that’s not this post is about! We all deserve our 15 minutes of fame, and I decided mine will be highlighting why I’m proud of myself. So, this post is who I am.

I am very good at communicating and empathising with people and know how to address an issue without escalating the issue, great at compromise. My reputation is built on possessing remarkable grit. While I might experience frustration, I consistently dedicate myself and exert double the effort to accomplish tasks or acquire new skills.

However, I struggle with being easily distracted and anxious, making it challenging for me to stay focused during lengthy meetings. To address this, I've been working on improvement strategies such as taking short breaks and diligently jotting down notes. This helps me better grasp the discussions and provides a reference point for later recall in case I forget details.

When I started University I began it with no knowledge of business and a limited experience in the coding community. Over time, I gained a deeper understanding of the intricacies involved in maintaining a business platform. Now, with a broader mindset, my goal is to contribute by finishing projects, communicating effectively with stakeholders, and providing the necessary resources for them to establish their online presence.

My journey in IT began right after high school, marked by a dedication to learning and intense effort to enhance my skills, which has cultivated a strong sense of grit within me. Despite my initial lack of experience, I've actively engaged with the STEM community, embarked on a three-month IT internship, and am consistently applying for new positions and jobs. This proactive approach showcases my commitment to continuous improvement and overcoming challenges, even in areas where I may lack expertise. Furthermore, I understand the significance of bonding with fellow BI colleagues, team leaders, and developers, and grasping the attributes they seek in new team members for their BI team. I aim to enhance my skills to match these criteria and become a valuable asset to the team.

I follow the Women in Digital forum that displays both membership exclusive and public events. These events are essential to building my brand network and increasing my personal branding. Likewise, I follow many Businesses Intelligence specified companies in Brisbane that are promoted through Women in STEM events and platforms.

As someone who has grown up with social media, I can empathize with the impacts of the more complex factors associated with the internet. Due to the anonymity that any individual with a platform can easily assume, there is little risk of repercussions. Consequently, the ability to spread fake news or engage in cyberbullying has become increasingly effortless. The notion of social technology functioning as an online community is further evidenced by the prevalence of cancel culture. A mass reckoning on a particular individual online can quickly tarnish their personal brand. Therefore, as I establish an identity online, I am decidedly careful when choosing which platform to promote my image, and I hold the companies I associate with to the same standard as I. In turn, I avoid aligning my image with controversial platforms.

Another challenge encountered by online networking opportunities on social media pertains to the absence of boundaries concerning privacy. Without proactive measures, individuals' risk having their information sold to third-party vendors. Although there are laws and agreements in place, some entities are less than ethical in their disclosure of information usage.

By steering clear of companies affiliated with unethical practices and prioritizing those that uphold good privacy standards, I can enhance my reputation as a trustworthy and reputable employee.

[messy-does-cosmology]

mac fjjfjnd please elucidate me

who is feynman

recount their sins for us fjdbbsbs

Omg. OK so Richard Feynman is probably one of the most famous and respected physicists in the "pop physics" community, or at least he was definitely the most famous in the 80s and 90s. To this day you still see people saying what a great guy he is. Oscar Issac did a reading of something he wrote about his dead wife. He's a famous physicist because of 6 things:

He worked on the manhatten project (developing nuclear bombs) (also this isn't why I hate him, lots of people worked on those projects)

He won a nobel prize in physics that he shared with 2 other people. It was something to do with quantum electrodynamics, I think.

He was one of the lead investigators into why the challenger shuttle blew up as it took off, killing all crew members.

He was a physics lecturer at Harvard, and his lectures are available on YouTube.

He wrote some famous and beloved pop physics books, his most famous being "6 Easy Pieces".

He wrote several memoirs.

Most lecturers teaching now first got into physics at the HEIGHT of Feynman-mania, and as a result of this, they are reluctant to criticise him and sometimes insist on teaching certain things just so they can talk about Richard Feynman. I had an 8 part lecture course unit on particle physics, and my lecturer used one whole lecture to talk about Richard Feynman. Now, this is all kind-of annoying, but doesn't quite justify me hating him so openly. So what does?

Well I'm glad you asked.

You see, come the 2000s, there was a shift in the thinking of Feynman by the more "woke" parts of academic physics. This was in part due to cultural changes changing levels of misogyny etc. people would terate, and in part due to new allegations of misconduct surfacing. What allegations of misconduct?

(an excerpt from the article "Surely you're a Creep Mr Feynman!" by Leila McNeil)

I want to make something clear. Feynman is not the only example of a venerated male scientist who has been accused of (or just straight-up admitted to) misogynist beliefs and actions. He is one of many. Feynman is a symbol, more than anything else, of the disposability of women in stem. This is a man who made his female colleagues profoundly uncomfortable, and, I cannot emphasise this enough, DREW NAKED PICTURES OF HIS Students AND SOMETIMES TRICKED THEM INTO SLEEPING WITH HIM; how many women in that environment do you think ended up just leaking away out of physics? How many hundreds of women pay for the existence of "flawed geniuses" like Richard Feynman?

At the end of our lecture about the life of Richard Feynman, our lecturer, a man in his 50s, as we were leaving the room, shook his head, stood up, raised his hands and said "oh, there has been some recent 'me too' stuff about him too". He then shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes, as if the women who paid for people's enabling of Feynman were some kind of minor inconvenience to his lecture. As if they were just an afterthought.

I thought to myself, "wow, this guy could end up as my supervisor some day. I wonder if he carries such a lax view on sexual misconduct when it happens around him?"

That was the day I feel like misogyny in physics was really unmasked for me. This lecturer was a nice guy, popular with the students, not an asshole at all. I gave him a christmas card in 1st year and he visibly teared up. And even he thought like this. Wow.

[lochsides]

Yellow Metal - cathartic Review

Here’s something I did not expect to be reviewing this week but when Zayn drops a 24 minute rap track, you fall in line. I had to listen to it a couple times through before I could even begin to make sense of my thoughts because my brain sort of malfunctioned. I have never been prouder to be a Zayn fan. He’s such a nuanced songwriter and there is so much to unpack here.

I think this is the most unfiltered version of Zayn that we have ever been exposed to (and possibly will ever be). I am grateful that he said his piece in this because it needed to be said. As a brown woman, I felt so seen by this and I cannot explain what that means to me. Thank you Z, for your unvarnished truth in addressing racism and various forms of discrimination.

I’m doing a short lyrical analysis below the cut, but the TLDR is that this is a fantastic piece of art that deserves to be heard.

I wish he had released this as an EP because that would be easier to review than a single 24 minute song, structurally speaking. So instead, I have picked out some key lyrics, going from top to bottom, that really spoke to me and decided to study the song that way. His lyricism is hard-hitting in this track. It is beyond anything he has ever released before.

“The planet bleeds, the damaged trees. It’s never leaving until we ascend so fuck the fence.” — I have not seen this lyric being talked about in the fandom, because the lyrics that follow this steal the show, rightly so, but I wanted to give this line a moment because it’s important too. To me, this lyric speaks to where Zayn is at with his relationship with the physical world. He’s out on the farm (about which he even goes to say “tell you what I like, farm life and the tractor”) and I believe he’s happy in his space and he feels connected to nature (also see River Road). So it is a poignant and slightly jaded, but valid perspective that he shares on climate change. It’s never leaving until we ascend. The damage human beings have done to the planet won’t be undone until there are no humans left to do damage. It’s a single sentence that says so much about the depth of the climate crisis. I’m doing my PhD on urban air quality so this is something I care really deeply about and I resonated with.

“And until they stop killing colour, it’s fuck the feds.” — Yeah, agreed Zayn. The systemic racism that he calls out here is echoed throughout the song, in equal parts anger and boldness. I love that he isn’t glossing over it with metaphors, which he could easily do and it would be beautiful in a totally different way, but this makes it harder for racists to overlook. There is so much power in calling it like it is.

“Never lose me to fentanyl, scared when I take a Benadryl, keeping it green in general.” — It frustrates me to no end to see Zayn painted as this drug-addicted lazy musician that doesn’t care about his work, because we know how untrue that is. This narrative is tired and simply boring too, and I won’t get into the racist connotations of it when you consider it against his white colleagues who smoke as much as him but that isn’t one of their defining traits in the media.

“I’m racking up excuses while I’m slacking off on work … it was hard work that got me heard” — I love the juxtaposition in this verse. The public/media perception on his career is that Zayn doesn’t put in effort or that he doesn’t want it. This obviously stems from his leaving the band. It goes back to what I was saying before about narrative, when in reality, as Zayn has said on various occasions, he fights to make his own choices. And that doesn’t have to look the way everyone else expects it to (“I beg you, don’t include me. I might write it on my shirt”), he has his own struggles that have helped forge his path, but it is his path that he paved, himself. He works hard to be heard. He has to. It reminds me of something my parents used to tell me when I was younger about being immigrants: you have to work 10 times harder for the same opportunities just because of the colour of your skin or your name on the cv. It’s a harsh truth to grow up with but it was my reality, as it is for most POC.

“This life doesn’t give you no armour, a lot of myself can harm you. I swear on what’s good, that I’m here ‘til they take me. I pray that I’m wrinkled, at least over 80…” — There is something about the simplicity of these lyrics are the messaging that I love. He isn’t trying too hard to sound poetic but he still manages it perfectly.

“All I've been achieving, clocking miles in this region, moving like a legion. Promise that I made to myself, an allegiance. Do you still believe I’m a fool for ever leaving? Staring at the ceiling, can never put a cap on achieving. I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving. // I’ve had about enough of being my own enemy. It’s time I grew up, a long way from 17. Always went against the grain, struggles in my life. Got some things to say when I stand up on the mike.” — This is the only 1D-related lyric I’ll make reference to because this song is about so much more than that. That said though, we cannot overlook Zayn’s experiences in the band because that is part of his story. The tongue-in-cheek of “I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving” is hilarious to me. The line about not wanting to be his own enemy anymore and growing up from 17 reminds me of that quote Taylor (Swift) mentioned in Miss Americana about celebrities getting stuck at the age they got famous. I think this verse is similar to that. None of them ever wanted to be in the band and I don’t care what anyone says, Zayn leaving and proving success outside the band gave the rest of them the courage to follow their own solo careers. Sure there was drama surrounding the split but he did it for himself, to tell his stories the way he is now. Whatever else you have to say about him, you cannot deny his authenticity.

“I ain’t dropping this for fame, I need this time, like therapy, it’s just to keep me sane.” — I think this line tells us 2 things, the first being that this song was not leaked. Z knew what he was doing and his twitter likes tell us as much. He didn’t release it for any sort of attention, otherwise it would be widely available on streaming platforms and for purchase. Which leads to my second point, he released this song to get everything he talks about on the track off his chest. Its referenced in other lyrics too, like “now you see where I come from, the world don’t.” This was for whoever cared to listen, not the world. It’s inaccessible for a reason. I love that he threw those lyrics in. It makes the song feel more like a private conversation or listening to a friend rant. It creates a different form of intimacy between himself and his fans.

“Lessons that I’ve learned, I’ve tried teaching to myself. What I’ve learnt from certain people is that they’re better than myself. So I surround myself with real ones, and you feel the plastic melt.” — This one is for anyone that buys into conspiracy theories surrounding Zayn’s personal life. He surrounds himself with real people, real friendships, real connections. I have never bought into the bullshit that he has zero autonomy over his personal life. I love the use of plastic melting as a metaphor for ridding his life of fakeness.

“Feeling trapped. This industry is a cage.” — Zayn is obviously not the first person to say it. Many artists talk about how suffocating the industry is ( which he further comments on in the sung portion: “I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this, no, I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this”). Fame is such a wild and unnatural concept and the exploitation and politics of the music industry only feed further into it. The industry being a cage makes me think of zoos and how celebrities are animals on display, when they should be free in the wild. I also really like the musical interlude following this part.

“Nobody’s speaking the truth, I’m offended by the State. Look at the state of the news, I’ve decided the argument, reciting my views.” — Zayn toes the line between keeping to himself and speaking out on important issues, sometimes not very well. I am his biggest cheerleader, but I’m not up his ass. There have been many occasions where he could’ve done better. But I cannot fault him for being offended by the State because same, Z, same. I love that he took this song as an opportunity to real speak out, no punches pulled.

“See I’ve been facing the racists from back when I were a kiddie. Born up in 93’. Living in Bradford City, they kicked me out of the school. Said they had a problem with me hitting the kids that would call me p***, still sit in the classroom, chilling. I’m angry now that I’m older cause I see they treat us different. Got me thinking I’m the problem ‘cause they never dealt with these issues.” — See what I meant about no punches pulled. He said that! He said it like that too. There is so much in this verse that I relate to, it hits a little too deep. I grew up as a brown in predominantly white communities where the colour of my skin was the reason I was outcasted. We know when that’s happening, clear as day. The lyric “got me thinking that I’m the problem cause they never dealt with these issues” says it all. I have many racial traumas that I’m dealing with as an adult because the adults around me when I was a child didn’t deal with racism in the classroom. They do treat us different!

“20 years later, I’m still in the same boat. Tryna treat me like my grandpa, say I came up off the boat. Came to tell you what I stand for. Man I think you’re shit, a joke. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? // Pushing my feelings down, you ain’t got it like them. ‘Boy your skin is so light.’ Ok motherfucker, take my name up on a flight. Try to convince immigration that your bloodline’s half white.” — Zayn talking his shit is my new favourite art form. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? Something that I will always be enraged by is that POC are expected to de-escalate situations of racism. We have to push our feelings down, as Zayn says in the verse, because the institution is against us. All of the institutions are against us. The fact that he takes it a step farther to say that his name makes him a target for racism, even though he is half-white just nails his point home. Also, can we please quit the whole ‘Zayn is white-passing’ bullshit. He alludes to it again later in the song (“asian in my face, but still my race you can’t define”). Its not a compliment to erase someone identity in favour of white-washing them.

“My name ain’t on the list unless they label it ethnic.” — Oh, the amount of times we have heard that age old (v. racist) saying ‘{celebrity of colour} is the new [insert white celebrity here]’ as if POC aren’t allowed to succeed in their own right. It is wild to me that Zayn has to deal with this given his level of success.

“Start to understand why they think that I’m threatening. I move in certain ways, couldn’t slow me with ketamine.” — There is a subtle nod to racism (and Islamaphobia) in this line, because of course the brown man is a threat, but I like the way Z turns it around. I also like the rhyme scheme.

“Raised on the benefit for whose benefit? They’ll never learn shit, man, if the shoe fits.” — Okay I might be reaching here, but this is just my interpretation. We all know the benefit system in the UK sucks. Being raised on benefit implies a lack of money growing up, but the benefits aren’t really all that beneficial to the families that rely upon them.

“Dealing with the hurt, they should know cause they don’t deserve it, it hit deep cause I hit the nerve.” — Well, okay then, just call me out. It’s fine. I seriously feel like he’s talking to me directly with this line. I imagine a lot of us do. Its one of those lyrics that are a bit too honest but that why we love them.

“Cathartic, I’m an artist. Trying to put my heart in” // “Freedom fighter, Yellow Metal is my name.” — So do we have an alternate persona for Zayn now? Alright, I’m down. I think these two lines are tied together, because both are mentioned in the song title. (I think of the song as cathartic, by Yellow Metal, aka Zayn, or Yellow Metal as the name of the EP if this was officially released). The lyrics that accompany both title lyrics, along with the subject matter of the song as a whole, suggest that his heart is in standing up against injustices. I said it earlier, this is the most unvarnished version of Z that we have ever been exposed to. Almost like the complete picture to the puzzle pieces we’ve been putting together over the years.

“They’re tryna kill us with disease.” — Why did this line scream out ‘COVID-19 outbreaks in developing countries’ to me? Again, I might be reaching, but there is a disparity between how COVID is treated amongst minorities, along with many other diseases, and not to mention rich, primarily white countries hoarding vaccine supplies while places like India (and my beautiful Bangladesh and I’m sure Pakistan too) suffer needlessly.

“Started something sick and on my mind is what’s next. Just became a dad so now I’m taking all the cheques. Better know I’m staying and paying like it’s debt. Imma get it done, if it’s taking all my breath, sweat, and down I ain’t messing around ’til I’m the best.” — I think this lyric shows off Zayn’s sentimental side more than it does his ambitious side, because we know he’s in this for the long haul. Others may doubt that but his fans never have. But hearing him talk openly about being a father on a song is something else. It’s like Khai added this whole other layer of meaning and purpose to his life and it’s beautiful to watch. I’ve been here since the X-Factor auditions guys!! It makes me so emotional to witness him like this.

“Aint many of me around, p***, I’m just different. Certain stages to this level aint here because fame is to the devil, fuck a label, imma do this from the ghetto.” — God, we’ve been waiting for a fuck the label moment in this house, haven’t we? I won’t get into my theories on his label or his team, but none of us deny the fact that they should be doing more for him than they are. He has the potential to be the biggest thing with the right team and promo because he has a built-in fan base that would go the mile for him. Obviously, there’s also his aversion to promo to contend with and that’s his decision. Even without it, he could shatter every ceiling. Another thing I want to mention about this verse is the nod to the complete lack of South Asian representation in contemporary Western media.

“Don’t know what’s worse: the way that you live your life or the way that you write a verse.” — I’m just putting this in here because it made giggle. Also going to take this space to say how much I love his energy in this song. He knows he’s the shit, as he should!

“Can’t be louder … so free Gaza on my banner.” // “They’re hating on Palestine ways.” — I love that Zayn has always supported this movement, years ago, before being ‘woke’ was a thing. But now, he has a daughter that has Palestinian heritage and I’m sure that makes this hit that much deeper for him, personally. The apartheid in Palestine is heart-wrenching. It’s so strange to me to watch it happen, because I never thought I would witness something like this happening in 2021, yet here we are.

“Like vipers, I see the sly ones, the snake that’s called Biden, none of them abiding what they might put in writing. We should be used to it by now, say whatever for the vote and then just choose another route. Say they’d never kill another unless that brother’s skin is brown. I’m just telling you the facts, if you can’t take it, the truth naked, to bare bones and my thoughts lately, spitting politics.” — This verse is straight up savage and I am living for it! I find it hilarious that he called Biden a snake. This verse addresses the truth about politics, that even electing a left-wing leader doesn’t fix the system.

“I’m Tony Stark, still embarking on a dream” // “Gone green like Bruce Banner” // “He taught me like Ra’s Al Ghul. Felt like living in Gotham, the people were rotten.” — And to tie it all off, I wanted to take a goofy moment to mention all the superhero lyrics Z added in this song, really showing his personality because I’m such a nerd when it comes to this stuff and it makes me wish that we were friends so I could annoy him to death about it.

[fenristheorem]

Oh, I'm sorry I didn't explain myself well, it's mostly Gardienne with a fever that makes her delirious (this mostly because it would be funny) but if you prefer one where she has difficulty moving (I love the physical contact with Lance, I apologize ) By the way I love how you write! I'm glad there are such talented people in the fandom <3

Don't worry about it! I wanted to check just in case I was reading the original ask wrong because this sounded like such a fun ask to write and I wanted to make sure it was what you were looking for lol.

Thank you so much for the compliment, it truly means a lot to me! ❤

I decided to write two headcanon topics; one for Lance taking care of Guardienne who's feverish and delirious and the second where she's too weak to move. They both sounded so tempting to write lol.

These both are a bit of a scenario-headcanon hybrid (it seems I’ve liked writing those recently), but I’m certainly not disappointed by it. I really wanted to be specific throughout for the sake of adding in moments of humor and adding depth (which made it a bit of a scenario), but they do sort of evolve into more traditional headcanons in time.

~Under the cut~

Lance with Guardienne who's feverish and delirious:

Oh by the Orcale; how did this happen?

Guardienne was feeling fine... and then she wasn't.

Ewelein wasn't very surprised - somehow she always gets hurt, or sick, or something. She tells Guardienne to isolate herself, rest, and overall not do anything. Ewelein knows there’s a risk that this advice will be ignored, but she figured Guardienne may at least have enough sense to heed her warning.

And then Guardienne starts complimenting the birds that are singing in the Infirmary...

"Get me Lance, I need to speak with him about Guardienne's condition."

Upon hearing news that his partner has fallen ill - and knowing that Ewelein wouldn't send for him about something so common and otherwise not of much worry - Lance entrusts a few last responsibilities of the day to a couple seasoned warriors and heads swiftly to the Infirmary. Upon entering, the Elven nurse immediately pulls him to a quiet corner of the room and explains that Guardienne has a very high fever that’s making her delirious. She’s been irritated, apathetic, and is even experiencing hallucinations, rambling about those hallucinations, then proceeding to forget about hallucinations that she was just rambling about, and she’s - despite having a fever - been restless and walking around, trying to chase after those hallucinations and putting herself in danger.

Lance is quiet as he looks at her like she just said that the sky was falling.

“What do you mean she has a major fever but is walking around? How is that possible, or safe? Shouldn’t she be subdued?”

“Illness is a strange thing, Lance. I can’t give a real reason aside from that’s just her way of coping with the discomfort of the fever right now, and again, she’s hallucinating so that doesn’t help either. I would give her a sedative but I’m not sure I trust the possible side effects with her current condition.”

“Eweleeeeiiiiin...” A hoarse, scratchy voice called for the nurse from an isolated bed further in the Infirmary. Ewelein looked towards where it came from before glancing back to Lance with a ‘please help me’ expression.

She led him back to the isolated bed and they found Guardienne - pale and heavily sweating, it was very clear that she was sick - sitting on the mattress, shifting through the thin blanket that was laid over her. It seemed like she was searching for something...

Ewelein did a few quick checks and let Guardienne nudge around the blankets as she explained to Lance that she needed someone to keep a consistent eye on her, as she couldn’t do that due to her other responsibilities.

Lance hesitated as his thoughts flicked to his typically busy schedule, but he couldn’t just leave his partner to suffer this without doing something. He could find someone to carry out his typical responsibilities, and Huang Hua will certainly understand when she sees Guardienne’s high-maintenance conditions herself.

“I can watch out for her. I’ll take a few days off-” “The birds - the birds are getting loud...” “-to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself by accident.”

“Thank you, I’m so sorry to ask this of you but with this illness going around-” “The birds are screaming.” “-the other nurses are too busy for us to have a constant eye on her. Fortunately she’s the only case this severe.” “Ewelein can you make the birds stop screaming? I think it’s upsetting the wall rat.”

Lance was about to reply to the nurse when Guardienne mentioned the birds and the wall rat, instead lowering himself by her side to try and look her in the eyes as alarm filled his being.

“What wall rat?”

Guardienne’s eyes flicked to his and she brightened, leaning to the side - teetering all too close to the edge of the bed - to rest against his abdomen and loll her head up to look at him as he straightened.

“Laaannce. Oh, you’re the pretty icy dragon, can you get rid of the birds? You have the big sword. The wall rat is angry at them and it keeps chewing at the rocks and the fluffy things are scuttl.... they’re around... in - trying to steal... why is it so bright, turn off the sun it’s burning.”

Lance nearly loses his breath as Guardienne just rambles and gazes dazedly around the room, shocked by how such a vibrant woman was now rendered nearly helpless. She’s making absolutely no sense.

He steels himself and decides here and now that he needs to take care of her. She has no sense of reality right now, and he needed to be here to make sure she would be alright. He gently took her chin to tilt her head back so he can look into her eyes again.

“What are the fluffy things doing? What rocks is the wall rat chewing at?” Guardienne stares at him for a moment with drifting eyes.

“What... the fluffy... no wall rat, no stones, the fluffy things... haha, how did you come up with that? You’re not usually funny, haha...”

Anxiety and distress for his partner settles heavily in his chest as he observed her continuously disturbing condition. He looks back towards Ewelein as she explains that she’s been providing Guardienne with a treatment. It’ll take a few days before it will begin to work, though - if it even does work. Lance was about to reply when Guardienne cut him off.

“The birds are loud, the birds are loud. Oww, someone please make the birds quiet.” She covered her ears with her hands and tucked her chin to her chest. Lance adjusted her gently and leaned her to lay back on the bed so she wouldn’t fall over the side.

“I’m not sure what to do about the birds... she’s kept talking about them. They seem to only be in the Infirmary because she didn’t complain about them when she wandered into the hall earlier.”

“She wandered into the hall earlier!?” Alarm shot through him again.

“Yea, Adalric seemed to argue her point though. He told her that the birds are everywhere, even inside her... Thankfully she doesn’t seem to have taken any attention to that.” Now exasperation.

“Ok, how about this; I’ll settle my plans with Huang Hua for the next few days and take Guardienne to my room so I can watch her constantly. I can stock up on a few basics from Karuto so I don’t need to leave her and set someone in charge of running meals to us from the Dinning Hall. She won’t ever be alone and she won’t need to go out anywhere. I’ll send a companion immediately if we need help of any kind.”

“May the Oracle bless you, Lance. You’re a lifesaver. Please don’t get sick, though.” She persistently thanked him more as she explained a basic routine so Guardienne can recover. Healthy food, don’t let her get too hot - not a problem, he’s an ice dragon - don’t leave her alone, and the medicine should begin to take effect in the next few days.

Lance responded by saying that it was no trouble - there was no way he was not taking care of Guardienne at this point - and quickly headed out to find Huang Hua while Ewelein could spend a bit of time watching Guardienne. Fortunately she was in the Dinning Hall, talking with a few other members of the Guard, including Karuto. He walked over with a brisk note in his step and stopped in her line of sight when he was a few feet away, signaling that he needed to talk to her.

Kindly, she stepped out of the conversation as the others kept talking - and Lance spotted a warrior within his guard that he trusts before waving them over as well. He quickly - but modestly - explained the situation and they both understood, Huang Hua even offered to persuade Karuto to share a few food items as Lance explained to his colleague what he needed to do the next few days. Once everything was set, he brought the food back to his room - storing it safely in a cabinet - and went back to retrieve the sick Guardienne. 

Many strange and bizarre things happened over those few days he spent with his delirious partner - some things he thought he would never experience in his life. Like Ewelein said, she did ramble a lot about the most odd things that she’s hallucinated; ranging from watching Musaroses fly around the room (which may have stemmed from Floppy observing her from high surfaces, if he did in fact adopt Floppy, and I believe he did), the sun and moon rolling around the room, and even yelping incoherent words as she tried to run away from light flecks. When she did manage to make a coherent sentence, she was quite crass and tactless with her tone and words - she didn’t seem to be able to comprehend the idea of emotions, but her imagination sure ran wild.

When he first brought her into his room, she wandered around for a while - chasing shadows it seemed... and then she took interest in shiny things, like his weaponry.

“Ah, pretty!”

“Guardienne don’t touch that! That’s sharp!” He quickly leapt to her side and took her wrist as she reached for an axe hanging on the wall, gently pulling her towards the bed as she giggled giddily and danced around with him. He tried his best to reign her in without being harsh - she wasn’t in her right mind - while making sure she didn’t hurt herself on any surface as she flung her limbs around before finally managing to get her on his bed. She still burned with the fever as he settled her into the light blankets, but she seemed to be tempted to fall asleep as she curled into his pillows. Relief settled into Lance for a moment as he turned to quickly glance around the room, observing everything he would need to hide for her safety until she recovered.

He glanced back to Guardienne to find her gone. He’s never felt panic invade him so quickly. 

Lance quickly scanned the room again to find her nowhere - actually it’s dread at this point, he’s definitely feeling dread - and then a feminine noise of surprise sounded from the floor before his bed. He rushed to the other side of the bed to find her laying on the floor, staring intently underneath his bed.

“I can see into realms...” She was probably staring through the gap underneath his bed to look at the other wall.

The thought of tying her to the bed to keep her still passed through his mind until he decided that that would be too inhumane for such a sickly woman.

Fortunately there were a few things that Lance felt he could do well. Occasionally he would ask if she wanted tea, or something to eat, and he definitely made sure she drank lots of cold water (being an ice dragon truly had some perks, like refreshing cold water at any time). She wouldn’t exactly respond - although on occasion she was brought back to reality enough to realize and comment that she was hungry at the mention of food - but Lance made sure to keep rigorous note of when she last ate and what anyways, so she stayed well fed. It was a bit of a struggle to get her to eat sometimes, but he found that she responded well to smell, so he tried to focus more on giving her warm (not hot) or stronger smelling foods. Once she caught the scent she seemed to snap back to reality a bit and nibble on it for a while - and when he’d sit beside her and eat a meal of his own she would catch on that it was time to eat and happily devour the food until she lost interest. He also realized quickly that her heavy sweating would mean that she’d need to shower more, so while it wasn’t always possible to wash her multiple times per day, he found that giving her a small bath with a wet cloth helped her - especially with cooling her down. He did make sure to shower her at least once a day, and he did join her for this. There was no way she’d be able to shower alone with her hallucinations...

These showers did lead to rather humorous events once in a while. The first time he showered with her, she tried to run away from the water because “the rain clouds are angry at her”, but she eventually calmed down - nearly going limp in his arms - when she realized how nice it was to feel the warm water on her skin. Surprisingly, when they’re out of the shower she seems to be brought back to her sanity a bit, being able to hold a... semi-normal conversation for a few minutes, usually remembering that emotions exist and being able to accurately describe her distress. However, Lance is perhaps most proud of the other times, late at night or early in the morning, when she’s burning hot in bed next to him and he helps relieve her of this.

He’ll lean up slightly, adjusting the pillows underneath him so he can recline back while somewhat sitting up and pull her gently into his arms, letting Guardienne rest her head on his chest or abdomen. She’ll moan in distress, dozing but not yet sleeping, and he’ll call forth his powers to help cool her. He’ll lay a cold hand on her forehead or the back of her neck, letting his body temperature drop to provide a cool presence that she can curl up with. Lance quickly found that she really enjoys this, she’ll cling to him all night as her breathing evens and her sweating calms down, and he finds that it even helps calm her during the day. Perhaps Ewelein was right; her restlessness was due partially to the fever.

Fortunately the medicine works, and within a week she’s feeling better. Guardienne woke up one morning; groggy, lethargic and overall feeling like shit, but she moves around to adjust her position anyways, rolling over to find Lance awake and watching her.

“Hey...” She greets him, her voice grating in a way that nearly makes her wince.

“Good morning. Did the wall rat wake you up?”

“...”

“Excuse me? What wall rat?” Lance looks a bit worried.

“Ok, she doesn’t remember the wall rat...” He mutters the words to himself as he glances away before meeting her gaze again. “Nothing, what about the Liclion under the bed? He’s not licking your hand again, is he? I can take care of him if you need me to. I could probably do something about those birds, too, if they’re here.” Guardienne stills mid-weak-stretch and looks at him with an off put expression, somewhat afraid of his random speaking. He blinks back with a calm expression before shock brightens him and he leans towards her a bit

“Wait, are you better!? Do you actually understand what I’m saying!?”

“Yes, Lance, but I’m not sure that you understand what you’re saying.” She looks at him in a concerned manner, but Lance is busy throwing himself over her in a desperate, gentle hug. She hugs back, still incredibly confused but thankful that he didn’t throw all of his weight on her as well - she was very weak and tired, she didn’t think she’d be able to breath if he rested his weight on her.

“Seriously, are you ok? What’s happened these past few days? I can barely remember anything.” Lance draws back to flash her a bright grin, overjoyed at the fact that he has his partner back.

“Yes, I’m just fine, but you’re not going to believe any of this...” He tells her the story anyways.

Lance with Guardienne who's sick and too weak to move:

It started slow. Guardienne was feeling a bit sluggish one day while training with Jamon, finding that she tired easier than normal and her reaction time wasn’t as fast as usual. She had to ask Jamon for a few extra breaks throughout, sparking concern from the Ogre. He asked if she was alright and she said that she was just feeling a bit tired. Jamon promptly reminded her of the time where she had the infected wound from the Warrifang, asking if she could have another bite like that that’s causing her fatigue.

“I don’t think so, I don’t recall fighting anything as of late. I suppose I should warn Lance if this gets worse, though, just so we don’t have a repeat of the market scene the first time I saw him again.” Her tone was light with humor, but she did dismiss herself from training. She didn’t want to push herself if she was getting sick.

She carried out the rest of the day with normalcy, but the following morning is where she was really hit. 

Guardienne woke up sore, tired, lethargic, and nauseous. She should have seen Ewelein sooner. To make things even worse, she woke up with a headache and a pounding noise in her ears. Wait... no, that was her door.

She hauled herself out of bed, requiring much more strength than she expected, and immediately a flood of heat washed over her. Regardless of her swimming head and heavy limbs, she stumbled to the door and cracked it open as the pounding became more persistent .

“Oh, hey, you’re late for our breakfast! Mathieu was getting really worried - such a sweetheart! And Adalric started forming conspiracy theories of why you’re late. Karenn suggested that we - hey, you don’t look so good, are you alright?” Guardienne could barely pay attention to Koori’s rambling - her headache was terrible and she was reduced to clinging to the door frame to remain standing. She sighed, closing her eyes and groaning as she rested her head next to her hand on the frame.

“I need to go to the Infirmary.” 

“Ok, come on, I’ll help you.” Fortunately Koori was a kind person - flirtatious, and bold - but caring for her friends.

Guardienne leaned her weight against the Kitsune as they headed to the Infirmary, nearly stumbling every other step as even the slightest movements took far too much energy - only to encounter Lance along the way.

Concern immediately struck him, showing clearly on his expression as he jogged to meet the two before asking what was going on. After a brief explanation, Lance offered to take Guardienne to the Infirmary. Koori put up a bit of a fight - not anything odd, she just wanted to make sure Guardienne would be alright (and she was curious of the illness) - but agreed to let Lance take her the rest of the way.

Koori gently let go of Guardienne, letting her stand on her own two feet a moment before she wobbled. Lance quickly took hold of her, gently taking her into his arms and lifting her from the floor as Koori dismissed herself from them, wishing Guardienne good health. He turned and set a brisk pace towards the Infirmary.

“You really don’t need to carry me. I know you’re a bit weird with touching in front of others.” Guardienne spoke softly - tiredly - as she rested her head against his chest, discreetly glancing around the room to see a few heads turning to look at them.

“Hush, I don’t care about that right now.” His tone said that there would be no arguing of that.

He walked through the doors, immediately calling for Ewelein - who was fortunately near the entrance. Within a few minutes Guardienne was rested on one of the many isolated beds - isolated to assure the sickness wouldn't spread if it was infectious. Ewelein began to check her over and verbally nipped at Lance to shoo him out of the room, only to be stopped as Guardienne requested that he stay with her. If he could, at least.

Lance paused, surprise written on his face as he let the knowledge that his partner wanted him around for this sunk in. He wasn't really expecting this. She's usually very independent and doesn't like to disrupt his responsibilities for the day, so her specifically requesting his presence was a bit of a shock

"It's alright if you don't want to stay, I don't want to get in the way of your job, but if I couldn't get here on my own then I don't think I'll be able to get anywhere else... so it might be helpful to have you around..." Guardienne gave him a gentle, fatigued smile before Lance softened and relaxed a bit.

“It would be a good idea. She shouldn’t risk walking around right now; she needs to rest. Fortunately this seems to only effect her energy - there’s no major fever or anything, only a faint fever, so she just needs rest - but if walking around will be a major issue then it would definitely be a good idea for you to be around to help her.”

A gentle warmth settled in Lance’s chest; his partner was asking for his help, she wanted him to lean on while she recovered from this.

How could he say no to that? How could he deny his partner who needed him right now?

“I’ll stay, I’ll take a couple days off. You’ll have my full attention.” He turns to walk towards her and sit down beside her on the mattress, taking her hand in his as Ewelein shuffles around the Infirmary. Guardienne squeezes his hand and looks gratefully at him through narrowed eyes, leaning against his shoulder slightly.

Ewelein returns after a few minutes with a vial in her hand and configures a dose for Guardienne, explaining what it is, what it should do and in how long it should start to take effect. After a few minutes - when Ewelein is still muddling around Guardienne but not saying anything particularly important - Lance excuses himself to find Huang Hua to notify her of his time off.

From there it’s the same as when Guardienne was sick with a fever and delirium; he notifies Huang Hua and sets up a replacement for himself, only excluding asking Karuto for extra food / tea as he can leave the room this time to retrieve food without worrying for her, but he does notify him that he’s taking care of Guardienne so he’ll need two meals to go. Karuto grumbles about the information, possibly not believing him, but agrees to it anyways. If anything, he can check with Ewelein later to confirm that Lance is actually taking care of her.

Eventually he returns to Guardienne - who was dozing peacefully - and gently picks her up after speaking with Ewelein before heading out of the Infirmary to settle her on his bed.

She curled immediately into the blankets and pillows on his bed, and Lance observed as she took in a deep breath, letting it out softly as though the sole reason for that was to breathe in his scent. A warm spark fluttered in his chest as he watched her - he’ll be sure to provide for her in the coming days.

And that’s exactly what he does; provides for her, in any way she needs.

He does this in a lot of similar ways as when she had the fever delirium; he’ll bring her food, help her eat if she’s too weak, will shower with her so she can lean against him (she really likes the showering with the handsome, wet, naked dragon), and watches her carefully when she insists on trying to take a few steps on her own to test how her strength is shifting - after all, his room certainly isn’t the safest with all the weaponry laying around and he promised to himself, for her sake, that he would take the greatest care of her, so he watches her without taking his eyes off her when she tries to shuffle around.

However, there are many other things that he does this time that he didn’t (sometimes couldn’t) do last time. He cuddles with her - a lot. After all, she can’t walk around on her own, so she’s bedridden most of the time, and what better way to pass the time than cuddling it out? If her minor fever acts up, he’ll use the same cooling technique on her by using his powers. Sometimes he’ll even entertain her by playing around a bit, forming delicate, glassy shapes out of his element and letting her explore his creations. He may lay a hand on her arm and let flat, snow colored tendrils drift across her skin like frost, a faint chill emanating from where they appeared as she watches with a fascinated smile when they curl elegantly around her arm.

He’ll let her sleep as much as she wants - which is a lot - and is just fine with being woken up at any hour for any reason. At first she was hesitant about this - she didn’t want to disturb his sleep when she woke up randomly in dark hours of the night with no sign of sleep threatening her consciousness again - so a few nights were spent messily nudging her body around to shift her position with the little strength she had. This woke Lance up a few times, and she was quite surprised when he decided to stay up with her and offer to occupy her time. Guardienne continuously told him that she was alright, he could go back to sleep, but he refused to do so. He was just fine with being woken up in the middle of the night - under this circumstance, of course, not on a typical day where he has responsibilities to carry out the next day - and eventually one night she found herself attempting this as she lay awake and unable to fall asleep again. She pondered over his offer to wake him up if she wanted entertainment, and after what felt like hours of trying to do anything else, she reached an arm over to brush her hand from his jaw, down his neck, and to his bare chest - eventually giving in to try and nudge herself closer to cuddle the sleeping dragon. He shifted slightly at this - waking fully as he noticed her movement - and grinned softly at her, pulling her closer to satisfy her wishes. They stayed up for many hours after that, talking quietly and nuzzling each other. Guardienne is a bit less hesitant to wake up him for company after that.

Sometimes his partner will grow a bit restless staying in one place, being moved only when she needs to use the bathroom, shower, test her strength limitations, etc. so Lance decided to take her into his arms one day and carry her around his room. Why? Well, she was tired of staying in one place, so now she’s moving around without moving around. Guardienne looks at him like he’s the greatest thing to ever exist, and then asks if he could take her to the Fountain Park. He happily complies, being sure to keep themselves a bit more distanced from others than usual for privacy and health’s sake.

A few heads turn to watch them as Lance casually carries his partner through the guard - but he doesn’t pay mind. He’s busy providing for his partner what she needs; fresh air and a change of scenery. They’ll spend a fair amount of time outside for a while before Guardienne eventually grows tired again, and he’ll carry her back inside to nest into his bed and cuddle.

Above all else, Lance is sure to remember the medical advice Ewelein gave to him - let her rest, don’t push her energy, keep her well fed with healthy food, exercise her a little bit per day so she doesn’t lose too much muscle function, and overall; be there for her. Lance is happy to provide for his partner, and he’s honored that she wanted him specifically to take care of her, so when times come where she’s sick and needs to be taken care of again, he doesn’t hesitate to offer his help. The last thing he wants to do is leave his partner to suffer alone.

Fortunately, within a week or two she’s usually feeling better, and after that they carry on their routine as normal.

She does still ask for him to carry her around his room on occasion, though.

I hope you liked these! I tried to add in a fair share of humor and fluff. The first scenario almost seemed to take on a few dark tones due to how heavily I made her hallucinate, but I tried to keep it light. That being said - if anyone is ever that sick and is hallucinating that heavily, take them to a hospital so they can have proper treatment and supervision. This is merely a story written for entertainment, so I can bend the rules of reality a bit. 

Just as I thought, these were very fun to write. Thank you for requesting such an entertaining ask!

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

[flyinglotus777]

Fleeting Lotus

An usually sunny day on September 22nd. Reminiscing on the great remembrance of the 21st night of September. Although the sky was clear, my thoughts were cloudy. 3 years had passed since the death of my mother and I celebrated how I celebrated any other anniversary in my life, with a pack of menthol cigarettes and a book to get lost in. The pick for the day was Harry Potter: Order of the Phoenix. My mother and I shared a love for Harry Potter, she introduced me to the series. I had a strange feeling that judgement was coming to me swiftly much as it met our three estranged heroes.

A knock at the door.

“Los Angeles police, open up.” an assertive, but comforting voice commanded.

I open the door to be greeted by a beautiful detective James. First name unknown. She had a slicked back, long curly ponytail and eyes of warm chocolate. Her skin was sun kissed and I found her presence to be encapturing. I wonder what she wants with me.

“Good morning sir. I am detective James. I am aware that your girlfriend, Lauren, has been missing for a couple of days and I would like to ask you some questions.” Her eyes pierced at me with persistence. Her tone sounded as if she was asking a question, but I knew she would come again if I denied. Maybe with more reinforcement.

“Uh, sure. Come on in.” I shut the green door behind her and light a cigarette. If I am to be interrogated, I shall answer in smoke.

“Sir, can you put that out?” 

“No, but I’ll open a window for you. You can sit by it.” I turn on a fan and open a window. I open the blinds slightly to see the families laugh and play in the shallow, motel infested pool. What a bunch of turds, I laugh to myself. 

I grab a seat for the lady and one for myself next to the ashtray. I see her eyes wander in silent judgement and amazement of the room. 

“There you go, Ms. James. Now what can I help you with?”

“Your girlfriend, Lauren Alexander-”

“Ex. I don’t make love to the dead,” I chuckle.

“She has been missing for over five days. We are doing an investigation and asking all close friends and family members about her whereabouts and when they saw her last. Why do you say she is dead?” she asks unsteadily, gripping the upholstered arm chair.

“Well, five days missing in this city means you’ve been kidnapped or killed. Especially for women, I’m sure you know that all too well yourself ma’am. Besides, I am the one who called to inform the police of her absence.” I take a drag and relinquish the air and stress I had built up inside of me for the past few days. She eyed me up and down as I spoke, taking notice of my fully unbuttoned beige, roaring tiger print shirt to reveal my white Hanes undershirt matched with my khaki capris. I placed my leg over my ankle so maybe she would catch a glance of my Nike socks and birkenstock combination. I did dress myself today after all. Her eyes read suspicion, but somehow I could tell she was doubtful of me. 

“Well, I would just like to ask some questions and I will be on my way.”

“Ask away. How rude of me. I forgot to mention, my name is Jacob Whitmore. My friends call me Jakey, but they haven’t been calling me as much lately.” I took another drag. Nothing screams rise and shine like a nicotine coated menthol and sitting across from an upgraded police officer.

She shakes her head in disgust and despair. “Mr. Whitmore-”

‘Please, call me Jacob.”

A heavy breath followed by a restrained urge to eye roll left the detective. 

“No more interruptions please. Where were you on Thursday, September 18th?”

“Well let’s see.” I begin to close my eyes and play in my hair in an attempt to rush my memory to the present. I need more nicotine for this. “I remember waking up that morning in my downtown Los Angeles apartment, noisier than ever that morning. Lauren had made me her classic breakfast special: bland eggs with turkey bacon and 3 chocolate chip Eggos before rushing off to work. She worked multiple jobs. She walked dogs in the morning before heading off to her fabulous mansion tour of house cleaning. Demeaning, but rewarding as me and the bills always thanked her.  I had suspicions that she had been cheating on me. I found love letters in her pockets while doing the laundry. I was a stay at home while she took care of me in between jobs. I know, you don’t find too many of us house husbands,” I said, smirking at the unimpressed detective. 

“Anyways, I decided that day I was going to follow her. Do some investigating of my own. I could’ve asked her, but I wanted to see for my own eyes the poor bastard that she was playing. You see, she loved me. We were in love and inseparable. She would be playing this rascal, but still wishing the man sweetening her gears was me.” I lit another cigarette, thankful for the lotus shaped ashtray that contained a mountain of my remnants over these past few days.

“Self absorbed, maybe but that was the kind of love her and I shared.” A smile shot across my face uncontrollably. “To my great fortune, she was loyal. I watched her rip the gardening boy a new one as she proclaimed her love for me. Lauren had the mouth of a New Yorker with the face of an angel.” A chuckle escaped through my lips along with the smoke. “I was so happy I bought her roses, her favorites. Yellow bodies with pinked tipped petals. I bought her three bouquets and decided I was going to make her favorite, fettuccine alfredo. Then I was going to lay her down like I was a handyman and the Lord hand delivered me a golden pipe to fix all broken faucets in the city.” I ashed my cigarette and began to spiral as the next menthol met my lips. I could see the concern on the detective’s face as my demeanor began to colden. 

“I made her dinner. I cleaned the apartment. I lit candles on the table and on the counter. I wasn’t too big of a romantic, but I knew how to set the mood.” I chuckled as I hunched over in my chair, staring at the ground. My hands began to tremble. I abandoned my dear ashtray for the floor. “I called her five times in the first round, no response. The clock struck 5:30, and I knew that was the time she was usually getting onto the bus. Sometimes she had went to the gay bar on Melrose, the one with the illuminated turtle splashing into an ale of beer. That quacky place,” I begin to rub my head in distress. “But she texted me that she had a long day and would be coming home as soon as possible to run a bubble bath. I was going to fuck her in the tub too.” I place my hands in my head as I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes, sucking them back into their place. The detective has been silent, but watching me in suspense like an audience member of a Shakespearan tragedy. 

“By 8 o’clock, I still had no response or sight of her. The candles were melting down to the stem and the alfredo might as well have been frozen. That’s when I made a call to the station.” I stepped on the menthol delight to extinguish it before lighting another. Only four left in the pack. Fuck. I hope this wasn’t going to take much longer.

The detective nodded and I noticed she was taking notes. She seemed very good at her job. “I have some more questions for you...Jacob” she ended her sentence hesitantly, but her soft tone comforted my damaged soul. She shifted in her seat to her legs being crossed as if she was finally finding comfort in her 1940s styled chair. “Now we visited some of her colleagues and friends who reported a similar story to you, minus some details. We have no leads, as we have already contacted the gardener who had matching alibis. The bar said she had not come in that day. We’re still recovering city footage of her traveling throughout the county.” I picked my head up to meet her eyes. My emerald eyes glisten as she asks, “why did you decide to rent out this motel room the night of September 18th?”

“Well, I couldn’t stay in the apartment knowing that something had happened. You see, today marks the anniversary of my mother’s death. She would come here often.” Detective James nodded as if she understood. 

“I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. Would you all come to vacation here?”

“My mother was a hooker. She would bring male and occasionally female clients to this location.” I said nonchalantly as if I were telling a relic of an old friend. “My father abandoned us when I was freshly born and she needed some way to support me and my brother. When she couldn’t find someone to watch us she would have us sit in the parking lot. In the parked car of course. One night I came stumbling in to beg my mother  to take us home as the clock was striking midnight and the car felt like an overworked camel hump to sleep on. I didn’t know what she was doing at first, she would always say business. I thought she was like a wall street business shark working men for their hard earned cash. I was partially right. I remember hearing these weird, promiscuous noises screaming through the lotus flower tapered walls. That’s my favorite part about this place.” I said drawing our attention to the decorum. “The pink flowers draped on the walls. Lotus flowers are supposed to be a symbol of purity. My innocence was extracted from me that night.” I take a hard drag on my cigarette in pain of irony. The detective stared at me in awe and pity. Before she could speak, I continued on with my story.

“Something inside of me told me to stay out, but my 7 year old brain was too curious not to open the door to see my mother getting pounded like the whore she was. The man just smiled at me and asked if I wanted a turn. I turned around and ran away. I vowed to never bring it up or let my brother know.” I shake my head reliving the trauma and seeing my last cigarette. “She was a good woman. She took care of me and my brother and made sure we had more than what we needed. Lauren kinda reminded me of her. Now they’re both angels watching over me.”

Detective James watched the flame from the lighter and then proceeded to scribble down an additional note. She had a confusing look on her face as if she was missing a piece of the puzzle.

“You know,” she says softly. “It hasn’t been confirmed that Lauren is dead. She may still be alive.” 

I shrug, “I abandoned false hope long ago. Is there anything else I can help you with, Ms. James?”

She starts to gather her belongings, but pauses for a second as she spots my unzipped suitcase. I could tell the puzzle pieces in her brain were looking for the missing link. Before she can answer, I say “I’ll walk you out,” managing to produce a smile. I’m just happy to reup on Ms. Mary Menthol.

She nods with a smile to mirror mine. “That is all for today. Thank you for your time and I am sorry life has been unkind to you.” Her tone rang defeated. I’m unsure if she was more saddened by my life or the unsolved case. We shake hands and I turn to reach for the door. As my back is turned, the sly bitch kicks open my suitcase to reveal a half kilo of my delicious cocaine, a machete with dried blood painted on it, and hand written notes I had written for my sweet Lauren. The next thing I know, I turn around to a gun pointed in my direction and me being handcuffed. Just as I thought I was in the clear. The scene played like a slow motion, silent film.

You see the cops had been trailing my alias for years as I had developed an itch that only holding a dead female corpse could scratch. Fell for my act didn’t you? I was sure hoping detective James would. I played the role so well I deserve to host the next fucking emmys. You see I’m not a bad guy, just a tortured soul. I was going to marry Lauren, I really was. She discovered I had killed my mother and was horrified by my actions. She was never supposed to find out. That sweet little Sherlock went rummaging through my stuff one day innocently only to be greeted with the same murder weapon that matched the description of my mother’s murder weapon and soon to be hers. I was tormented by my own thoughts and other kids for my mother’s actions. Although her intentions were in good faith, they created a world wind of hell for me. I plotted the move since I was 16. I figured sure people could clown me for having a whore as a mother, but would they say the same if she was dead. Then that makes you a shitty person. Call my mental twisted, but you try walking in my shoes and telling me how the fuck you like those roses. I’m ritualistic in my attacks as to why I was planning on burning the evidence that night on the day of my mother’s death. I figured her soul would take care of it, but it seems as if it had a vendetta to avenge me. As for the cocaine, my only mistake was not head diving straight into the baby powder while sweet cheeks handcuffed me. I hope they sell menthols in prison... 

[spectraldragon2024]

Finding Peace Q/A

Questions and Answers: (WARNING: Many of these questions and answers have spoilers for Finding Peace.)

Q: How did Whiteout find out about the Realm Between and the Dream World? I thought only Adder and his close contacts knew.

A: A personal headcanon of mine is that the NightWings were one of the few tribes in Darkstalker’s era that focused on advanced theories in the same way scientists today have theories about Darkmatter. In Finding Peace: One of these theories was about the concept of there being worlds that existed parallel to the world dragons inhabited. Even when the NightWings relocated to the volcanic island, NightWing philosophers did not abandon these theories overnight since it’s implied the volcano did not become active until centuries later. In her twilight years, she would learn about this theory (which came from a NightWing philosopher’s circle that was formed by the students of the Seer Omniscience, a controversial Seer in NightWing history.) While Whiteout was not a Somnus, not knowing the full nature of these worlds, she eventually gained access to the Realm Between. How she exactly gained access to this realm is something I plan to explore in later stories. However, I can explain how she managed to communicate with her brother across the centuries. In the Realm Between: Time is a concept, not a law. This means those who enter the Realm, whether physically or mentally, can communicate with individuals from across time. But to do so requires two individuals to be in the same location of the realm. By sacrificing her foresight, Whiteout was able to use the Realm Between to communicate with Peacemaker through various times. The final time Whiteout speaks to Peacemaker is a month before her passing.

Q: Are we going to see Moon have that important conversation with Qibli? It was left open-ended in the final Winglet.

A: Yes, I can say with absolute certainty that we will see this conversation. However, what will happen after this conversation will be up in the air. Going into the Winglet: I wanted to show that even though characters like Moon and Qibli have their “Happy Ending”, that does not necessarily mean all trials are done when a relationship begins. In Darkness of Dragons, I felt that there were some unresolved points of concern in Moon and Qibli’s personalities that I imagine would cause their newfound relationship to suffer if those concerns aren’t addressed. Ms. Sutherland once said that because both Moon and Qibli are young dragons, anything can happen between the end of Darkness of Dragons and fifty years later. Some core issues that have caused Moon and Qibli to hit a bump in their relationship stems from differing priorities. Moon is a representative and the only active Seer in the world. Her word is valued by not just the Queens of Phyrria, but Pantala as well. But she knows this isn’t just going to be her future, that there is more on the horizon. She wants the perfect ending with Qibli...but she focuses too much on that ending and tries to take steps to make it perfect.

On the other talon, you have Qibli. Despite his love and loyalty to Moon and his friends, Thorn remains the big centerpiece of his world. After all, Thorn was his mother figure who brought him out of an unstable life. He owes everything to her. That means he will be what Thorn needs him to be: An advisor, a soldier...he will be any of those. Unfortunately, this means he puts a lot of other things on the back burner, his relationship with Moon in particular. This causes a lot of distance between the two. Into the Darkness and Our Sanctuary will not show this much-needed conversation, as these stories will follow Turtle, Kinkajou, and Winter’s storylines respectively. But as I write Braving the Tempest, I do hope to write a story that runs parallel to it that shows Winter, Qibli, and Moon...and how their subplot resolves.

Q: In the Winglet that focuses on Tempest's POV: You have her meet Clearsight. During the conversation, it looks like Tempest blames Clearsight for what happened to Darkstalker. I was wondering if you believe this and if you think Darkstalker did nothing wrong?

A: Do I hate Clearsight? No, absolutely not. I thought she was a very intelligent dragon with a good heart. She loved Darkstalker and tried to turn him from the dark path he was on. I do not blame her for Darkstalker's descent into madness. Darkstalker's actions were his own, he had every opportunity to turn back and be happy. He was the only obstacle to his happiness (as Peacemaker pointed out.) That being said, while Darkstalker is the cause of his madness and sadness, I do believe Clearsight could have helped convince him to abandon his ambitions and to just be happy. The scene in question was not meant to be a sign of hatred, but rather a critique of Clearsight's decisions leading up to Darkstalker's descent. When I originally wrote the scene, I wrote it with something in mind that Tui herself once said in a Q/A Biohazardia was in and posted on their Deviant Art page. The Question asked was along the lines of what could have Clearsight have done to turn Darkstalker away from his path. Tui answered that she believed that Clearsight did love Darkstalker, but deep down she did not trust him. That was the point of the earring she had Darkstalker give her in order to keep him from reading her mind. Tui thought that, if Clearsight had shown the visions she was afraid of, then Darkstalker could have chosen a better path. I admit while Darkstalker was to blame for his actions (nobody else made him kill Arctic, that was his decision, and his alone.) I do think things could have been different as Tui said. But I like to think Clearsight knew that if she had trusted him enough to share her visions, then maybe Darkstalker could have changed. Instead of focusing so much on the future Darkstalker (good or bad) and focused on the dragon, she loved in the present, then maybe things could have been different. When Tempest and Clearsight did meet in Tempest's limbo state, Clearsight used the personality she had while she knew Darkstalker as a way to test to see how far Tempest would go for Peacemaker. The reason she tested Tempest, was because the SeaWing had a personality Clearsight wished she had when she knew Darkstalker: And that was to focus on the present. That was the basis of Clearsight's personality after she arrived on Pantala. She urged her descendants to live their lives, day by day. The future was theirs to write. With Tempest, she needed to make sure that she held firm in her beliefs, that she could save Peacemaker even if the future was dark. So while I believe Clearsight could have done things differently, I want to make it clear that I do not consider her responsible for Darkstalker's own actions

Q: Will you explore quantum mechanics in future stories? (i.e. Time Travel.)

A: While I think time travel would be an interesting concept in Wings of Fire, unfortunately, it's not one I will be exploring in The Darkest Eclipse AU. My thoughts on time travel as a plot device are that it is a can of worms, one if not handled correctly can leave the readers confused (I know I have left many unanswered questions in Finding Peace, but that was simply because the answers to those questions I felt would be better explored outside of Peacemaker's POV). While there are ways for individuals from the past to communicate with someone in the future (such as Whiteout reaching out to Peacemaker throughout the story) there is no way for individuals from the future to physically travel to the past. The Darkest Eclipse prophecy focuses more on the Paranormal and how it relates to established magic and laws of physics in Wings of Fire canon (like how Somnus magic interacts with Animus magic.) That being said, if I were to explore Time Travel: I would follow the theory that time is a closed loop (as in the past cannot be changed, it has already been decided, and that any changes done to the timeline must occur in the future). This, I feel, can be properly explained and leave little confusion for the reader.

Q: TempestMaker or PeaceCliff?

A: Wait, there are ship names?

Jokes aside, I will say that at the end of Finding Peace: Peacemaker does not view Cliff or Tempest in a romantic light. He does love them as much as he loves his mother and Moon, they are important dragons to him and he cannot imagine his life without them. But he does not love them romantically. Will this change in the future? Likely. But for now, Peacemaker is not in the right space mentally to have a romantic relationship. He needs to discover what he wants with his life now that he is free to make it, discover what he wants to do with his future. Once all of the uncertainty in his life is cleared up, that could change.

Q: Apple Juice or Orange Juice? Also: Any tips for keeping a decent writing schedule?

A: I like both, but I lean heavily towards apple juice (always nice to start and end the day with something sweet to drink, but nothing too unhealthy.)

When it comes to writing schedules: What I did with Finding Peace was setting up deadlines for myself. I have always worked well under the knowledge that I have a deadline that I need to meet. Now, that being said, my preferred deadlines may not be for everyone. One of my best friends and colleagues, DONOVAN94, is able to get chapters for her stories out in a single week when she has everything planned out and ready! But that is because she has chapters outlined, and afterward all she needs to do is write in critical info. This works for her, but I always focused on posting one chapter a month. Now I explored posting multiple chapters in a month during the tail end of Finding Peace. While it worked out okay, it left me exhausted...and honestly, I am still tired after doing it.

All in all: My biggest advice to writers (whether fanfiction or writers who want to become published) is to work at your own pace. Set deadlines for yourself that you think you can meet, and never hesitate to experiment.

Q: Who is Omniscience? He is only mentioned at the end of the story when you posted The Darkest Eclipse Prophecy.

A: Omniscience was a NightWing seer who lived during the founding of the NightWing tribe, many centuries before Darkstalker’s era. During Darkstalker and Clearsight’s generation: Omniscience is regarded as one of the wisest seers in NightWing history, as well as the most controversial. Omniscience was born on a night when all three moons were full, but entered a “Thrice Lunar Eclipse'', with each moon eclipsing the other. Instead of receiving both mindreading and foresight NightWing abilities, Omniscience received only the power of foresight. However, because all three moons were technically full that night: The eclipse basically “overcharged” Omniscience’s foresight. This allowed him to see multiple millennia into the future with clarity even Clearsight did not have. However, despite this great power: Omniscience suffered from severe psychosis, causing him great difficulty in his early life to tell the difference between his visions, tricks of the mind, and reality. It’s because of his friends and family’s support did Omniscience learn to embrace his entire self, and became one of the wisest seers in NightWing history. He was controversial because of his philosophy that a wise Seer is not one who tries to map out the future for other dragons, but those who embrace the unknown of the future. In his prophecies he did not address large audiences, but instead, his prophecies addressed dragons in the future, offering them wisdom in difficult times he saw them face. The Darkest Eclipse Prophecy is one of his two final prophecies, alongside another prophecy. These two prophecies have long since been stored in a secret archive, somewhere in Phyrria.

Q: Which character was difficult for you to write in Finding Peace?

A: This might come off as strange, but the one character that was difficult to write throughout Finding Peace was actually Peacemaker himself. The reason this is the case centers around the circumstances of his “birth.” While, in canon, he is not the first year-old dragonet we have seen: But he is the first that was born out of Animus magic and his personality was made from that magic. While we have witnessed the perspective of those influenced by Animus enchantments (when Winter very briefly became Pyrite), Peacemaker is different as he will be living his life following an enchantment. Throughout Finding Peace, I had to balance the enchantment’s dictations and, yet, try to write Peacemaker so he was not simply someone being dictated by magic. In the end: I settled for the enchantment is in place in certain areas of his personality, while making Peacemaker strong-willed enough to actually have a choice of what he likes (as seen when he starts to show interest in food outside of strawberries or standing his ground when his friends were harassed.)

Q: Which is strongest: Animus or Somnus Magic?

A: At their core: Animus and Somnus magic are equal and capable of the same things. However, because of the rules around magic in the AU: It is too dangerous to use Animus magic in the Dream World, or Somnus Magic in the Waking World. As shown in Finding Peace: If you use them in worlds where they are not meant to exist, those worlds will seek to eliminate the magic and its user. The only place both magics can coexist safely in is The Realm Between, where it’s believed both magic originated from. In Finding Peace’s climax this happens, and from there: The power of the magic all depends on the skill of the user. So, long story short, neither magic is stronger than the other. While both magics have advantages and disadvantages depending on the realm of existence the user is currently located in when they are on the same playing field both magics would be left at a standstill.

Q: Most Peacemaker centric fics have Peacemaker be best friends with both Prince Cliff and Princess Auklet, why wasn’t Auklet in the story?

A: Truth is, Auklet was originally going to be one of Peacemaker’s friends in the Quartz Winglet. In my original outline: The main trio would have been Peacemaker, Cliff, and Auklet. Tempest was going to be The Jade Mountain Academy’s counselor, in which she used her Somnus magic to see what bothered the minds of the students. However, the more I thought about it, the more I felt Tempest would have a better role as a Clawmate of Peacemaker and Cliff.

Q: Are Tempest and Cliff reincarnations of Clearsight and Fathom?

A: Yes, Tempest and Cliff are both spiritual reincarnations. While they do not physically resemble Clearsight and Fathom, their spirits are connected to the two dragons. When I drafted Tempest and Cliff’s interactions with the spirits of the two dragons who had such a significant impact on Darkstalker’s life, I drew inspiration from the belief that reincarnation is spiritual, rather than physical (like pouring water from one cup into another cup.) Now, it’s important to note that while they are reincarnations of Clearsight and Fathom, this does not mean Tempest and Cliff are actually those two dragons. Rather, it just means their souls are similar. This allowed Tempest to speak with Clearsight, and Cliff speaks with Fathom when they were in a state of limbo.

Q: Where were Turtle, Kinkajou, and Peril during Finding Peace?

A: Peril is currently living in the Sky Kingdom. While she and Clay live together in the Academy, for the last few months Peril has been staying in the Sky Kingdom...waiting for an important day to occur. Once this day happens, she will be returning to her home in Jade Mountain.

As for Turtle and Kinkajou: Their whereabouts during Finding Peace will be addressed in Into the Darkness. But I will say that what is happening by the climax of Finding Peace is not good for Turtle or Kinkajou.

Q: Why did you include Somnus magic in Finding Peace?

A: When writing Finding Peace, I took into consideration how I could allow bits of Darkstalker’s memories and personality could bleed into Peacemaker. Given the nature of the enchantment, it would not be as simple as putting on a copy of Qibli’s enchanted earrings (Tui confirmed that Peacemaker would die if he put on the earrings.) So I needed to come up with a way that could allow Peacemaker’s slow rediscovery of his past life: And that was with the inclusion of Somnus magic and Adder, while also implying Peacemaker’s strong will allowed only part of the enchantment to take effect (it’s been shown that dragons with strong wills can overcome Animus enchantments.) With Adder tormenting Peacemaker’s dreams by pushing memories of Darkstalker into his mind via dreams, Peacemaker would still be Peacemaker, but the Somnus magic allowed that anguish and confusion in his mind to occur. Needless to say, I was nervous about the introduction of Somnus magic, as I felt readers might think I was “Jumping the shark.” In order to make Somnus magic make sense, I focused on the rules and limitations of this magic and how it interacted with Animus magic. This way Somnus magic is not instantly more powerful than magic from canon.

Q: Why did the group of bandits refer to Lynx and Bobcat as “Cursed ones” in the Winglets for Finding Peace? Why is there a group dedicated to killing them?

A: In the Darkest Eclipse AU there exist multiple secret societies that are aware of the paranormal of the world (such as The Dream World and Realm Between, though they are typically named differently depending on the organization.) As for this particular group, the Bandits that raid the border between the Sand and Ice Kingdoms hunt for the paranormal while seeking to make a profit off of them. As for why this organization targetted Lynx, in particular, has less to do with who she was as a dragon, but everything to do with her ancestry. As Qibli and Hailstorm discovered: Lynx is descended from the Somnus bloodline, making her a very distant cousin of Surf’s family. When she traveled from the Ice Kingdom to Sanctuary, the bandits targetted and killed her because of this bloodline...and the fact that she was married to Winter, who has ancestors from a line of animus dragons. As for why the bandits would want to kill Bobcat: in essence, he is a dragonet of the Somnus and Animus bloodlines. While Lynx does not have an active Somnus Gene, and Winter does not have an active Animus Gene, the bandits viewed this union as cursed, as no dragon has ever seen an Animus or Somnus descendant have a dragonet. Fearing what they do not understand, the bandits killed Lynx to prevent the hatching of a dragonet of the Somnus and Animus bloodlines. Ultimately the bandits failed in the objective of killing Bobcat before he hatched: As the last act Lynx did before succumbing to her wounds, was hiding her son’s egg in a place Qibli would find when he, Hailstorm, Winter, and guards of the boarder arrived.

As for if Bobcat’s existence will remain secret to the bandits and other groups like them: That remains to be seen.

Q: Are there any more stories planned for The Quartz Winglet? Will we see Peacemaker’s life in the Sky Kingdom with Cliff, or the Quartz Winglet reuniting during the Winter Solstice festival in the Sky Kingdom?

A: Yes, to all.

Sometime before the summer: I plan to do a short story that takes place two weeks after the end of Finding Peace, in which we see a day in Peacemaker’s life in the Sky Kingdom and how he is faring. I feel this short is important as it will show one last POV dedicated to Peacemaker and how he is starting to rebuild his life.

We will definitely continue to follow The Quartz Winglet in future stories. Braving the Tempest will follow Tempest’s point of view and show the Quartz Winglet reuniting in the Sky Kingdom during the winter solstice festival. The relationships between these young dragons will continue to progress in the sequel to Finding Peace, named Braving the Tempest, and I look forward to showing you all what new adventures they will have in the future.

[adposto2]

WHERE is Gulberg Greens Islamabad.

Whom to trust whom not to?. Especially when it comes to investments, I think making decisions in this regard are harder than that lifetime effort made to earn that heavy amount. For instance me, who had been saving up for a decade now but took me more than three years to gain confidence enough to buy land. The money lying in the bank was only losing its worth . So, I knew I had to make a decision soon for my future security.  Now the question rises whom to trust, rather how to? . Commercial Projects  in Gulberg Islamabad

As we all know how fraud is common in this market. I can’t forget the first time I visited a real estate agent, the land that cost 15lac he was selling for 20 lac. And when I made a decision to buy it, it turned out to be a non-progressing land and probably have no worth howsoever. Now I knew this time is the right time to invest especially in the vicinity of Islamabad, my tension turned into frustration as I had never felt so helpless before. I was desperate for help YES… but was there anyone to guide me… unfortunately NO! One day while I was surfing Facebook, I came across Gulberg Islamabad’s post. The image was visually pleasing . Later ,when I dig down more to the content of their posts and website, the features seemed interesting too. Flat for sale in Gulberg islamabad

On top of all that, the name of Gulberg was quite promising itself. It suddenly clicked me to visit that place and visit their sales office rather than random property dealers. I entered Gulberg Greens and I was stunned by its beauty and grand look. I was overwhelmed by the hospitality of the Sales team that involved educated men and women as well. A lady helped me out with all the queries and procedure. For the first time I felt relieved to be in the right place and right away… yes right away I signed a cheque and booked an apartment in Gulberg Heights. The Roman architecture and amazing features and facilities that this place is offering was worth relying. So now I own my property and I surely believe that where there is a will there is a way! Commercial Plots in Gulberg Islamabad

My New Year Resolution

New Year Resolution: Enough of struggles… now it’s time to do more with my life! This is what I said to myself in the beginning of 2019 and changed my perspective about life. Life as we all know tests us in every way but it’s us who decide whether to become a victim of it or have control over it by learning from our mistakes and experiences… We can surely make it better by becoming stronger, by expecting less and giving more, by focusing on our dear ones rather than those who hurt us and most of us by analyzing what we want from life and how to get it! Of course it isn’t as easy as it sounds and not a work of day or two.

With time I realized that though we are always trying to comprehend everything around us, the most difficult thing to understand is what lies within us. Literally sometimes it takes years to figure out something as little as what is best for us and what isn’t. If I sound silly just try convincing yourself to do something against your will… My time for the last 4 years didn’t seem to be in my favor . But I simply accepted my fate till I couldn’t bear more, as not just my personal and professional life but also the lives attached to me were getting unbearably affected. I for once realized the cost of shattering my confidence and blaming myself.

No one was going to offer me solutions… I had to be my own master. I started off by taking care of myself, making my faith in Allah stronger . Also in any type of  circumstance I didn’t let anything get me down. All this seemed impossible initially, but today I am where I am because of this. My relationships got better and I showed good progress at work. Along with work I started a new online business of mobile accessories in collaboration with my cosine. In just one year I have earned enough to make an investment. For 2020 I can proudly say that this year I will start a new better life at my favorite place in Islamabad, The Gulberg Islamabad.

I have already booked a plots in Gulberg Residencia and now I can’t wait to see my home being built where I will have everything I wish for, a place rather than a house will be my home. I will finally be able to make my family happy with this beautiful gift. As no doubt there is no place like Gulberg Islamabad.

Everyone wants to eat fresh fruits and vegetables. Don’t you???

In the serene and green Gulberg Residencia, is my beautiful home which means the world to me. And in that 7 marla home is my small lawn which is undoubtedly my favorite spot, my peace place. I can spend hours in my garden without getting bored since it makes me come alive from inside and I just love that feeling.

My mother, my favorite person is another person who loves this spot equally. Gardening is her hobby and more than me she the one who takes good care of this garden. My garden may be tiny, but its is filled with numerous colors of nature. Here you will see a huge and unique variety of flowers, fruits and vegetables. Roses are my all time fave. In addition to which we keep growing seasonal flowers and vegetables in the garden . Plots in Gulberg Green Islamabad.

The feeling is indescribable when you see the buds blooming, vegetable growing and new leaves sprouting… its like a new beginning of joy, hope and success. Plants are not just growing stem, they have a life. I often talk to them, while I water them, i pour my love and and when i hoe the soil, i know this care I put in them will in return bring more freshness to my life. Usually my day starts in my garden. It is a positive way to begin a day with the peace of mind. I practice deep breathing for around 20 minutes and then look at all the plants that I have.

I love spending the evening hours in my garden if I have time. Best are the days when my friends come over for evening tea. We chat and enjoy the beauty that surrounds us. My pretty little garden is surely an integral part of my life. This place vanishes all the negativeness and makes me happy in seconds.

THE BIG REAL ESTATE QUESTION

Isn’t it hell of a confusion to decide which society is the best! These days too many new residence societies are emerging and everyone claims to be the best.

Other than few famous names such as Bahria Town and GULBERG, we can’t really rely on anyone… can we? So many fraud examples are there to scare us from making an investment. Also when it comes to business, we are either putting all our money in the drain or luck has knocked our door.

I wonder how many people get looted just because they trust the decent looking humans who convince them with their words. With the out of the world promises imagine how lifetime savings are blown away with just a signature. Though we can’t blindly trust any agent few things must be considered before making any decision.

They have been working in Real Estate for a quite a long time.

Check out the successful transactions and the feedbacks of their previous clients.

Their contact details, be it online or offline should always be available and so should be the responsive rate.

They should definitely be affiliated with a registered office or should be registered by themselves.

They should have in-depth information of the real estate industry.

Must supply your real estate needs as their utmost priority.

They should guide properly for your transaction

My Encounter with a Real Estate Agent

Today, thanks to the education and awareness, women believe there is nothing on earth they can’t do, well… try dealing with an ignorant person without him staring at you top to bottom, as if you are sitting naked just for his entertainment.

Seems relatable doesn’t it? That’s not it, my encounter with the goof I’m referring to kept getting more and more interesting. He was none other but a real estate agent. My colleague told me about good investment opportunities at societies near new airport so I took some time off to visit a real estate office for a better understanding.

I entered a small office with few people all in white kameez shalwar, which till this day I don’t get why they only where white… is it their dress code? Or do they try to portray decency through their look. Well if so it didn’t really work on me. Instead of gaining interest all I wanted was to get away from the creepy looks.  I asked him straight about the rates and the best offers they had within the budget I had. And after this long question he asked … “Madam Ji, what would you like to have chai or thunda (cold drink)” ? Confused I simply said, “NO, I don’t have time, please come straight to the point”… “Madam, how can we let our guest go unserved? Please feel comfortable.

So I ended up with a glass of juice which turned out to be much needed to clear my throat. Every time I asked a questioned, his eyes became wider and he bent towards me more… I thought he was going to sit on the table on some point. Well long story short, I changed my mind, received a fake call and escaped. It was till few months back when I went to the sales office of Gulberg Islamabad where I realized that decent dealing is possible in this profession.

I went with my colleague expecting disaster but she came out satisfied with all her quires answered. Now I too have made up my mind to invest only in Gulberg Green Islamabad because it’s not just serene and green, it has the best offers according to your requirements.

Life at Gulberg Residencia

Indeed, it was one of the best decisions of my life… we can’t regret the fact that our environment has a great influence on us. In other words, if we can’t adjust in our surrounding, nothing else can make us happy, neither money nor luxury. On the other hand, peace of mind in this fast moving era is not that easy to find. Cities are getting more and more crowded and so when I was capable of making an investment, all I could think was… PEACE! My residence  was living in central area of Rawalpindi.

The daily traffic block added extra half an hour to my office distance which was only 10 km away. And not just travelling, I was sick of the noises, pollution and altogether, I was unhappy with my lifestyle… even going for outing was not a fun thing for me. I know many people are happy the way they are but not me and I couldn’t help it. I had imagined a better life for my wife and my two kids who meant the world to me.

One day I crossed a newly emerging society, the Gulberg Islamabad and I felt the urge to visit it. Though the elegant entrance with wide roads and amazing farmhouses, I thought this place is only for the elite class.  Out of curiosity I asked a shopkeeper who showed me the way to the Gulberg Customer Dealing office. Again I was impressed but hopeless for I knew my savings were not enough.

Gathering up my confidence, I told the Sales Executive guy Mr. Mohsin about my total saving. Of course his response surprised me with a proposal not just for a living opportunity, but it offered an exceptional lifestyle, beyond my expectations at Gulberg Green Residencia. Though I could only afford a 5 marla plot, it was more than enough for me and my family. I thought it was the best gift I could give to my family and so it was.

When I brought my wife my kids and my parents to show them my plot, my wife was in tears of happiness and my mother couldn’t be more proud of me. I can’t wait for the time when I will move in to spend my dream life with my family. At Gulberg Islamabad, live your DREAM with SERENE AND GREEN LIFESTYLE!

[fitasepeliculas]

Ridley Scott Turns 83: A Personal History and Appreciation

For most of my life, I regarded Ridley Scott as a director who made slick, well-crafted movies that nonetheless left me cold. Spielberg – more embracing, sentimental, whose name graced the credits of so many childhood favorites - used to monopolize my attention. Alien was a modest oldie that was overshadowed by its more action-oriented sequel; Blade Runner nearly put me to sleep back in the VHS days; Black Hawk Down had a relentless intensity that left little room for emotional resonance; Gladiator wowed with great sets, costumes and a star-making Russell Crowe turn, yet the acclaim befuddled me; Hannibal could be summed up as a bizarre exaggeration of its Oscar-winning predecessor. Scott seemed to be an imperious, scowling “man’s man”. Remember his sour face during the producers’ speech when Gladiator won Best Picture but he went home emptyhanded? Tough guy to like.

Nowadays, he’s my favorite filmmaker. How did that happen?

I warmed up to him little by little, starting with the bonus materials on the Hannibal DVD, in which I found him surprisingly funny – the story he told about calling Steven Zaillian’s office and absent-mindedly asking for Ted Telly instead made me crack up. Matchstick Men was an unexpected comedic delight, as was the taut geopolitical thriller Body of Lies and the entertaining period epic Robin Hood. After getting a Blu-ray player, I popped in Blade Runner: The Final Cut which, seen through the eyes of an adult instead of an impatient young teenager, finally earned its reputation as a masterpiece. We’re in 2010 now – I was already a hardcore Alien franchise fan, still more reverential towards Cameron’s 1986 entry. It was around that time I got wind of some exciting news: Ridley Scott would be back to direct a prequel to his own 1979 milestone! Alien: Resurrection and those accursed crossovers that shall go unnamed hadn’t killed the star beast after all. Encouraged by my newfound appreciation for him thanks to how much I had liked his recent output, I began to pay more attention to all things Scott.

Despite not seeing it in 3D and having overcome my initial disappointment that it wouldn’t be a direct prequel, I took a liking to Prometheus from the get-go. It was the kind of movie that encouraged viewers to spend days reading other people’s interpretations and theories after leaving the theater, and also my favorite brand of sci-fi: atmospheric, enigmatic, speculating on our origins, our faith, and whether we are alone in the universe. It was only in the following year, however, when I saw it again at home, that my appreciation blossomed into full-blown admiration. It provided awe and wonder with an edge, something that Spielberg seemingly no longer cared about, having turned into a chronicler of all things Old and Important. Do you know how you can be so thoroughly consumed by a movie to the point that it colors the impressions you have not only of its director’s past legacy but also of his upcoming projects? Suddenly I found myself revisiting and rethinking – in other words, seeing with new eyes – Scott's oeuvre, identifying stylistic and thematic patterns, and above all, though rather subtly, a personality as a storyteller that was unmistakably his own and which he did manage to imprint on some of his films, sometimes even in the most commercial ones. From indifference to mild interest to fandom.

What follows isn’t substantial enough to merit a detailed explanation, so long story short: I rewatched Alien for the first time in over a decade. The result? mindblown.gif. It became my all-time number one movie, and Scott cemented himself as the biggest head in my personal Mount Rushmore of directors. What about his touch that justifies this homage, though? Let’s skip the commonplace - yet totally valid - reasons, such as “a great eye for detail”, “the sheer aesthetic beauty” or “a knack for worldbuilding”. Fostering recurring themes, favoring a certain type of camera placement or movement, setting a particular rhythm to the proceedings during the shooting or in post etc. are but a few of the trademarks of a distinctive filmmaker. Just as relevant is their ability to develop a consistent cinematic reality of their own.

I’d describe Scott’s as one where human behavior and emotion are rendered in a less typically mannered, heightened fashion than most mainstream Hollywood fare, utterly apart from, say, the aforementioned Spielberg. There is an unsentimental, matter-of-fact patina to his outlook on life. Consider how God is represented simply by a curt boy in Exodus: Gods and Kings. Remember the formal, albeit merciless, dialogue-exchange-as-power-play between “father” and “son” that opens Alien: Covenant. A skeptical reader might argue that it’s in the script, therefore not creditable to Scott. I’m not referring merely to the concepts per se but to their enactment, which is guided by the hands of the director. It’s a trait detectable mainly in his 21st-century work. (With perhaps two exceptions - Black Rain, Thelma & Louise -, his post-Blade Runner, pre-Gladiator period feels anonymous, uninspired in terms of self-expression.) You will notice that these two examples stem from not long ago – a deliberate choice to illustrate how the usual claims that he has “lost it” are shortsighted. If one pays attention, however, it’s clear that said resemblance to realism in characterization and setting can be found in good ole Alien, what with its world-weary blue-collar characters, their down-to-earth banter and occasionally blunt interactions, not to mention the cluttered, lived-in interiors of the Nostromo.

Along with a select few colleagues like Mann, Fincher and heir apparent Villeneuve, Ridley Scott is living proof that intelligent life can still be found in big-budget Hollywood, catering to the demands of the adults in the audience.

This is meant as a thank-you note to a filmmaker whose vision not only helped me (re)shape my ability to recognize what I see around me in the wide white canvas of the big screen but also stimulates my imagination with waking dreams that are a tad brainier and, paradoxically, less escapist than those concocted by populist entertainers. Being a fan has never been so exciting: at 83, Scott has no less than three major theatrical features to be released in the near future.

Note to Gaff: unlike Rachael, he will live! 

[my original post]

[perennialphilosophy]

Identity Issues and Terrorism

First, I will point out that my PhD circulates around the Arabic language and interpretations of it in different socio-political contexts, hence the topic of this post (as well as others coming in the future).

I don’t know if you’re familiar with a woman called Shamima Begum, but I will give you a quick overview. Shamima Begum is a British citizen, of Bangladeshi heritage, who was born and brought up in Bethnal Green - a part of London that has a large South-Asian Muslim community. In 2015, at the age of 15, Shamima and two of her friends left the UK to join IS and their ‘jihad’ in Syria. Shamima married an IS member out there and had two children, who passed away. Earlier this year, after the capture of her husband and IS having been defeated on the most part, she applied to return to the UK so that she could give birth to her third child here. Britain was unwilling to take her back as citizenship is automatically revoked when you join a terrorist organisation. There was widespread debate about this, as the child would still be the responsibility of the UK, even if Shamima was not as well as discussion around her not ‘understanding’ what she was doing when she left as she was ‘a child’. The long and short of it is that she was not allowed to return, and gave birth in a refugee camp. Unfortunately, given the circumstances of the birth and surroundings, the child also passed away a month later of lung infection.

Shamima is not an isolated instance. Over the years, there have been numerous young men and women leaving the UK to join IS in their fight. I began to wonder why this is. What is it that causes these people to feel something so strong that they abandon their own families, friends, country, to join another? What makes them want to adopt new names and identities? Admittedly, there is no one answer to this, but there may be a few that together make the right combination.

I spent today reading British Muslims and the Call to Global Jihad by Kylie Baxter, which really opened my eyes a little.

One thing that is clear, not just in this book but in the facts also, is that the Muslims that are getting radicalised, and ‘brain washed’ come mostly from a South-Asian background (by which I mean mostly Bangladeshi and Pakistani), which is what I will concern myself with in this post. Looking at these South-Asian Muslims, we can then also narrow the demographic down to second and third generation Muslims. It is never those who immigrated to the UK in the first place who take up these ideologies, but rather their children, or their children’s children.

One theory presented for why the second and third generations seem to be affected so much and why they make journey is an issue regarding a lack of identity. Following World War II, South-Asians (and others from the British Empire) were welcomed into the UK to help rebuild it, and take up working class jobs. As members of the Empire, they held the status of ‘British subject’ and upon entering the UK were offered full citizenship. This role to them, however, was purely economic and political, and viewed as a temporary phase. Those of South-Asian backgrounds, therefore, tended to group together in parts of London. Many did not feel the need to learn to speak the language and held on to their own cultures and traditions tightly as this is what they identified with. Their Asian background was their identity.

Once they had children, however, the religion that the children were asked to practice was one that was splattered with cultural norm and speckled with the opinions and judgment of the first generation. Without a good or proper understanding of their true culture and religion, as well as feeling isolated from the British society (as their practices were different), this leaves them little to put to their name and claim as their identity. Baxter says

It ‘appealed predominantly to young religious-seekers. Generally, the organisation’s recruits had a poor understanding of Islam, a dissatisfaction with the often culturally influenced religious tradition offered by the older generation and a sense of alienation from the British societal system of which they were meant to be a part’.

Is this all just one very serious identity issue?

I think the identity issue runs deeper than just now knowing if you belong more to the Asian culture or the British one that you are born and brought up with, and stems back to the parents themselves. If the parents make an attempt to ‘assimilate’ (for lack of a better word), it would make the task of combining Western and Asian living more cohesive. However, with parents who often do not speak the language or mix with people that are not Asian themselves, it is hard to draw on the two yourself to create an identity for yourself.

In a study conducted in 2005, it is reported that 3% of the British population is Muslim. But if you look at the dispersion of the 3%, you find that 38% are living in London alone, which is quite a high percentage (though I’m not one to judge, being from London myself) but it makes some sense as this is the capital and most diverse and welcoming of other cultures. Looking at the dispersion within London also, if we look at the boroughs of Tower Hamlets and Newham, their Muslim population is 38% and 36% respectively, perhaps indicating ‘ghettoisation’.

Speaking from personal experience, my grandmother has been in the UK since the late 70s, that makes it forty years, and she is unable to speak or understand any English. Why? Because she lived in Tower Hamlets, where over a third of the population was Muslim and a large majority of Bangladeshi heritage. She did not need to learn because wherever she went, there were people speaking Bengali. Her neighbours were Bangladeshi, the shop assistants were Bangladeshi, as were the doctors and teachers at her children’s schools. There was nothing to compel her to learn and she had no desire.

Not only this, but in 2002, a report found that 48% of Bangladeshi women and 40% of Bangladeshi men were unqualified, as well as 40% of Pakistani women and 27% of Pakistani men. This would make it hard for these members to join society openly and mix with those in qualified jobs (which were mostly held by you typical Anglo-Saxon English man or woman), even if they wanted to. This alienation is passed down to the children who are then faced with the task of overcoming this alienation not just for themselves but for the parents too, and introducing them to British culture and norms.

Just a quick analogy: I have an aunt who has been in this country now for twenty five years. She can just about say common things like ‘how are you’ and ‘shut up’ (the latter I’ve heard her use a lot) but other than this, her knowledge is basically zero. She is a housewife that never leaves the house. She has made no attempt to make friends, not even with other Asians. I recall going to a wedding once and she was there, it was a big fat Asian wedding. The bride invited some of her colleagues and friends, who were you typical Anglo-Saxon white men and women. My aunt commented saying “look at that show off, inviting white people”, because she does not want ‘white people’ there. It is the role of her children now to introduce her to Western society, as this will become a barrier for them, when their mother will not want them inviting ‘white people’ to their weddings.

And I will leave you with that. I feel like I have rambled a lot, but I hope my point comes across somewhat clearly, and if it does not, you will have to excuse me, I have a raging fever at the moment.

N.B. Again, for the keyboard warriors, these are only my opinions. There are also many more reasons that I could list, such as certain ‘cultures’ being more deprived, funding, education etc. There is a lot to be said. Perhaps I will speak about those in separate posts, if anyone is interested.

[mikazukikannagisjourney]

Spiritual Log August 26 2019

DISCLAIMER: Please seek help from professionals when dealing with ANY kind of disorder, physical or mental. I just happened to choose not to and I am not blaming any entity or anyone for the results of that choice as well as my current situation. You can take my own personal experiences here as SPIRITUAL ADVICE and I am more than happy to assist, but if symptoms persist, please consult medical professionals. My info here is not liable in any way if any kind of physical or mental harm happens to the end user. Thank you for understanding.

*Before I start this entry, let us all collectively focus our high-vibrational intentions to the healing and recovery of the Amazon rainforest. Feel free to channel energy towards healing not just the Amazonas but also the mass consciousness expressing the disturbance in this world. Thank you.*

I was gonna log so much stuff but for some reason, I got into a depression *a very dangerous one* since the start of this month, and instead of spreading my low vibes I just chose not to blog about it and just transmute. It was a very disturbing time because no matter how much I cleared my energy fields, my subconscious, cords and attachments, anything I thought of clearing, the depression just persisted. I wasn't on meds and I don't have a shrink but so far, I have been managing it OK. Even more so once I have come to terms with the fact that my depression stems from the Spiritual Awakening process, and that I just have to face my demons and learn how to reintegrate my shadow aspects back into my self, along with a lot of other healing methods. But this time around, it felt so scary. The need to kill myself just grew stronger everyday. It was so dark that I was doubting if it was even mine. 100% gloom and doom there. But then last week Wednesday I just found out that the Amazon rainforest has been suffering from wildfires for 3 weeks already. AND I WASN'T EVEN INFORMED. Not here on tumblr nor twitter or even Youtube. Not on the telly. Nada. And that was very disappointing, I have never felt so much lack of care or disappointment since the day when the presidential candidate I voted (RIP MDS) lost and was almost at the last part of the race. And it was very disturbing that nobody gave a crap in the planet's lungs. No wonder so many people, apart from myself who got so depressed this month. They probably don't know why, and probably won't know why until they started opening their eyes to the truth. Especially geomantic empaths *cough, like me, cough* 😆 I mean, a large portion of the earth was in pain, in suffering, and go barely any attention, so she just directly contacted empaths everywhere. And that's where the stuff about empaths start to get tricky. Because despite numerous posts, the info are mostly too-general to be digested, and cannot give answers to those who have more needs than others.

I have been on this conscious awakening process for 3 years now, and I haven't gotten the hang of being an empath. Mainly because most of the stuff I read or watch have no specifics on how or why empaths are able to feel the energies and emotions of others, as well as being unable to distinguish if these emotions and thoughts are their own. For once and for all, I will give my 2 cents on this topic because I personally had some disturbing yet enlightening experiences on what empaths experience and why some of them are just so full of angst. Also because this might help at least someone out there and help them be at ease.

WHY EMPATHS INTERNALIZE AND EXPERIENCE THE EMOTIONS AND THOUGHTS OF OTHERS

To find out what needs to be healed in an unwell person - e.g. You suddenly felt heartbroken and sad, and flashes of your past breakups kept rushing into your head. You thought you were over them all already, and you were, because they were years ago. But then suddenly everything comes back to you. The pain, the trauma, the endless nights of rollercoastering between paranoia on why you were dumped and hope that your dumper will evetually come around. Turns out one of your friends/mates was unceremoniously dumped and has been suffering in silence for the past week.

To fine-tune the healing process for each person to be healed - e.g. using different strategies of healing two friends who were both fatigued, but one is emotionally-drained due to being friends with a toxic colleague and the other one has been overly anxious over the resuls of their DNA test because it will determine their fate (relax it's just a scenario, that can happen.lol)

HOW EMPATHS INTERNALIZE AND EXPERIENCE THE EMOTIONS AND THOUGHTS OF OTHERS

Basically, all of your inner demons will come back to haunt you, with gusto and fervor. All vibrations, low or high, will be at their extreme levels. Things you thought were already cleared will rush back with even greater intensity and pain. And you can't help wondering why or if these are even your own. (Hint: 90% probably not yours)

E.g. In the 1st 2 weeks of August, all of my memories of being sexually-harrassed while I was drunk and broken-hearted kept rushing back to me. Randomly. No warning whatsoever. My hate was filled to the brim. I easily got mad, and upset, and I could've cried at a drop of a hat. Everything made no sense to me, I just finished my full-moon clearing and everything felt even more horrible. I felt trapped, hopeless, in extreme despair, and very much suicidal. Fast forward to 2 nights ago when I hit up an old friend and had some catch-up, turns out this person had been dealing with workplace issues as well as harrassment by an older person for the same time period that I had been experiencing shit. So yeah, turns out it wasn't really mine, but to be able to relate to this friend, I had to relive my own experiences so I can enter the friend's energy field. Because I had a similar experience with my friend's. Similar experiences create resonance with empaths so they can detect emotions, feelings, or thoughts by others, especially their loved ones. I just decided to heal us both before I ended the call, to clear our energy fields. It turned out to be a very enlightening experience for us both. *Fun fact: Empaths can bunch together, get individually attached to narcs, or both. It sucks*

WHY IT IS IMPORTANT TO CLEAR ENERGY FIELDS AFTER EVERY INTERACTION

See above. Because if not cleared, the inner demons will just keep popping up. Like having light on a mirror. No matter what happens, as long as there is light, things will always get reflected on mirrors. Also, a clearer energy field means less resonance with others having a bad day. Besides, it's easier to detect happy energies that way.

HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS ANNOYING SITUATION - STEP BY STEP

If a negative emotion is felt:

Step 1 - Ask this emotion if it is yours. If yes, go to step 5. If no, proceed to next step.

Step 2 - Send this emotion back to where it came from, or send it directly to Source. Tell it to leave you because it has no business with you, as it is not yours. Bring in your full intent of sending this emotion away. With love.

Step 3 - Ground and check to see if your emotions calmed down or disappeared. If yes, go to next step. If no, repeat 1st step.

Step 4 - Relax, drink some water, and pat yourself in the back. Then make a high-vibrational shield around you to keep other people's emotions out. *Some make mirrors, some make golden egg-shaped ones, some use invisibility cloaks, some use white light. For me, I encase myself in a lovely nata de coco sphere. Low vibes stay out, light goes in, plus it's delicious. Yes my energy shield is food, lol it works for me so why not.* The End.

Step 5 - Meditate on why this emotion is appearing to you now. Ask what needs to be healed so it can be released. You can also do emotion code in this step. Crying or emotional release is definitely recommended.

Step 6 - Once the reason/s was/were identified, go to Step 2.

Repeat entire process as needed.

If a positive emotion is felt:

JUST ENJOY THE WHOLE RIDE, DUH. 😆 At least take advantage of being an empath by enjoying and dwelling in other people's happiness too. It also amplifies the energies and helps raise the earth's vibrations.

Well, I hope this journal entry helps you, especially during these chaotic times. Thank you very much, and may you find the healing you seek. Love and hugs from Source above. ♡

Mikazuki

三日月

[alchemisland]

The Antiquarian and the Devil's Dog

April 1928.

I, Martin Bryn-Kolkiln, wish to commit to paper the strange events of Friday last, April 9th 1928. For what seems an age I have been chasing time, little tempting pockets of freedom peppered throughout the week, but the crafty seconds evaded capture. My rest too, like the proverbial snoozing hound, has been disturbed to much chagrin, prolonging the day's drudgery.

I had been away for several weeks prior to the incident, pining for home on the sun-cursed dig sites of the Nile delta. Aerial raids destabilized the region, yielding formerly guarded treasures to the gloved hands of fevered antiquarians, creating a scramble the likes of which beaurocrats had not seen since the African pile-on. At one such site, in the frame of a ruined mosque we found an idol, stark and malignant in its shadow-haunted grotto, providing ample fuel for speculation among my uneducated workforce.

My postprandial scribblings, so long a staple of my working week that no servant dares scurry past my quarters upon seeing the glow neath the door signalling occupancy, go neglected of late, my notepad chastely going without flourish.

I have been much beset by idleness, my usual studious nature replaced by bouts of extended procrastination. I do not fear that you will judge too harshly my slovenliness once I recount my adventure in full.

The journey from London towards Matfield is punctuated with occasional wondrous natural vignettes. A journey I had taken many times before, I spurned heirs for comfort and slid far down on my seat, staring out the window. Wild horses cresting grassy knolls against the backdrop of God's own country.

I had informed colleagues of convalescent intentions, two weeks bedridden to document my trip, so it came as a reluctant surprise when a letter arrived requesting my urgent presence at the Powers Estate. It spoke of a strange discovery as work began on a proposed pleasure garden "to rival Xanadu". The author supposed the discovery would be pertinent to my historical interest, and suddenly I was keen to reevaluate my proposed hermitic fortnight.

I set off that same evening with only a light jacket tossed overshoulder. The note's concluding statement disturbed me most. The scribe, generously an amateur, was firm that they had uninterred the skeleton of an enormous hellhound.

I cycled to match Nike's record laps and barely caught the evening train. Upon alighting, a short preamble along a pleasant pebbled path paired with pastures carried me to the estate, its foreboding walls stark and unmissable against the sweeping hillocks. Overhead, through a bore in the wounded firmament, a lance of otherworldly pearlescence triumphed.

The moon in its wane sat stop the rounded domes of the main compound like a crown's centrepiece, its design an eclectic mix of Eastern and Western classical art, rounded arches twinned with dappled pillars, obsidian grotesques with forked tongues freed of their pursed half mouths. Inside, French tapestries decorated the walls, Greek marbles on every landing, enormous canvas features depicting glorious hunts in gilded frames tacked lavishly on every capable surface. Looted Pictish stones inscribed with mysterious runes decorated the fish pond. This was wealth. Old money.

Casement Power, younger brother of late Lord Richard, inherited no property, instead reviving a modest annual wage to fund his excess. The scurrying fox and the baited badger that presumably made up his cost of arms could not satiate his warrior spirit, so he traveled to Africa where the large game roamed.

It crossed my mind while tracing its mighty girdle that perhaps a secret exotic pet had been disinterred, cyclopean only to an amateur.

I found myself frozen at the gates. Some fuedal conditioning told me my sort still weren't welcome here, and I stood hypnotised by its granduer A fortress fit for a martial family.

A buried phalanx of ghoulish hoplites raised their jagged spears to form the gate rails, fearsome black rods as a ward to the timid, a black bas relief in its centre. Pushed its hinges dragged and howled in dull flight, which I took as a sign of reluctance on the house's part.

Once inside I turned right, veering from the cedar-lined drive down a snaking path of trodden grass towards a distant glow. With my forearm raised to tide the eye-hungry branches, I came to stand in a copse offering a clear vantage of the fiddler's kirkyard, where four beacons crudely jammed into the soil guttered, illuminating a profession of loiterers. One waved my shade closer, evidently the letter's author.

The grass grew sicklier in the albumen of my redoubt, tusks of jagged rock bursting through the topsoil. Little wonder this field alone was designated the plebeian pit, it must have been the only infertile patch inside this splendid garden of bulbed delights.

A terrible scream rang out as I took my first ginger step forward. It crowed shrilly, razorlike against the eardrum. Wretched as banshee's wail. Mighty as the seven trumpets sounding to toll the seventh seal's opening. The Djinn's howl. When the screaming stopped, an orb of light rose and hovered about the hungry mouth of an open grave. Unaccustomed to the light, its radiance blinded me, and when finally those briny trickles tamed enough to pry them back open, I found myself back in the copse where I had stood a moment before, the kirkyard beacons up ahead.

I stared to my hands, unable to discern their shape in the darkness. I needed to be positive I wasn't dreaming. It was bitterly cold. Does one feel true cold in the nightland? I surmised then I was not sleeping and in fact alertly experiencing high strangeness. Sudden nausea stole my legs and I keeled over retching.

Prone on the lawn I watched the distant beacons ignite and extinguish in sequence, casting strange shadows, then in unison they doused. Plunged into void, I felt the grass against my cheek mutate into something harder, with many sharp points. I lifted one eyelid and saw the gates. I was outside the compound, as if I had never before entered!

The bas relief's dark contours adopted an ominous aspect, moreso than previous observations yielded. Their bulbous forms tricked me with feigned normalcy. Brushing the stones set in my palm like jewels, I winced to my feet.

One idle lance shone directly on its centre. Beings that at first seemed grecian effigies altered in the pale moontorch. The icons, lacking perspective, still bulged with taut muscle. Lacking the vocabulary to describe the 'otherness' of its shape, Revelations must serve as an imaginative stimulus. The beings were contorted demons with men's bodies and genitals, coated head to toe with coarse black hair.

Where their mouths should have been jutted jaws like that of the snapping Nile crocodiles. One figure above all I was hypnotically drawn to carried by his shoulder a noxious stinger slick with venom poised to strike. Alone was he armed with a pestilent whip, distinguishing him as a leader of sorts, if rank existed within an anarchy of grotesques.

Even as fantasy, this folly was gratuitous, a remnant of the freakshow. The metal itself gleamed as if slick, though no hint of varnish my nostrils scented.

I pushed open the gate as a matter of promptness, again it screeched, reeeeeeeeeeeeeeee - like a vixens wail. Events were unfolding like theatre beats, precisely as they had moments ago, only now where I was sure I had steered right, the dig site was to my left.

I thought voicing the skeptic aloud to might steady frayed nerves. Marsh gases were spirits to feudal farmers before wise men dispelled their ignorance, replicating in micrcosm the binding of the primal flame which elevated our kin above the fierce descendants of Echidna. Perhaps what I experienced was a phenomenon as yet unexplained, wholly within the realms of fact.

Seeing the skeptic permitted entry, the coward tried his charms on the doorman, a masculine fellow with traps the size of roset chickens. Without baudy company to mock my yellow belly, I thought of home, there was time enough yet. Sure, the trains wouldn't run until morning, but a man still might still safely walk the tracks in these leafy byways, and at the station Bucephalus waited.

Whether the men disturbed the rest of a hellhound or bones of a dead doe expanded by the ceaseless freeze-thaw action could a question remain, a chilling inkling to ponder on the Samhain.

A faint dust was visible in the air. A golden sporehaze like foundry sparks taken flight, shifting breezeless. Whether it was the unholy residue of occult practices blighting the gloam or a warning of impending spiritual disaster from the universe itself, I don't know, but I knew to follow my gut, instincts hard-honed.

I sped out the open gate, avoiding its siren keen, and kept a blistering pace until the lane melted where gravel gave to slick grass, then further on nearly stumbling were the tracks, a steel corridor of gnarled teeth. Stemming from negligent workers, trackside grasses growing unwieldy cast ominous shadows, obscuring assailants from the side. I slowed briefly, ensuring my stride matched the distance between planks.

After a time ambling I heard from behind the definite sound of paws plodding, four distinct footfalls increasing pace to match my own, causing me to sprint forward with surprising intensity, flapping like a disturbed bird to keep upright.

Paws clacked against the timbers quick as knuckles on a tabletop, dull heavy thuds, then something emitted a low growl that released the auxiliary adrenaline stocks. Without regard for form I reached my maximum possible speed, tissues, coins and paper scraps falling from my pockets all the while.

I was sure no fevre dream had taken hold, that what gave chase was tangible evil, an anamalous malignance out of another world, an oppressive presence. Some distance at last came between I and it, or least the sound of its routing, but still the aroma of fetid meat wrinkled my nostrils. Intense heat flared across my shoulder blades, as the footfalls came closer than ere before it flared to a searing agony.

I imagined an enormous fissure somewhere along the rows of planks behind, a tunnel hewn from riven flesh, from where mangled fingers rose to grasp my tails, bidden aid Cerberus. The beast thundered along now, terrible jaws searching the air. Teeth, dagger sharp and serrated for tearing flesh clean off the bone, came within inches of my ankles. I felt drops of reeking saliva raining down when the beast's tongue whipped at the empty space I occupied a moment earlier.

In truth I cannot recollect much further, gripped by adrenal berserk time held no meaning. New memories ceased forming. All non-critical faculties were off.

After an eternity I emerged into the dirty light of the station and dared to slow, coughing a lung by a signpost, the chase had not been so rabid these last lengths. The spell which coated those bones in living flesh expired as Sol threatened her wakening divinity, bleaching the hills.

The horizon turned red as iron ore. Hours faded like charcoal met by floodwater. Dawn arrived, silent and chorusless. I found no snapping Cerberus or terrible mastiff, only a dizzying corridor of shifting darkness stretching to infinity, for the dawntorch did not pierce the thicket there. In relief I howled, noting aloud to none in particular that this was likely a record time for this journey, surpassing even the no-stop trains that carried resources to the Hebrides overnight.

In spite of everything, I had to question if a creature ferociously pursued me at all, or merely had some friendly dog trotted alongside for a time. As to whether my own footfalls quickening sent me into a panic I was unsure. Should I be terrified, relieved, embarrassed or a combination of all three?

Next came the darkest revelation. I sat, legs dangling over the lip of the platform, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, held it as if the smoke would absorb my woes.

A draft met my back and the sodden shirt plastered thereupon. No, more than a breeze, a pain. I gingerly pawed the raw area, if the phrasing can be pardoned, and found three scrapes stretching hip to hip. At night they vomit pus onto the swanfeathers corset of gauze I have taken since. Another paroxysm sent me spiralling into blackness.

I suppose it was near enough morning when I woke. Some kindly commuter or station man had taken notice and fetched a doctor, I have no memory of this.

The doctors informed say it will be some time before the wounds heal, that I may never recoup my former vigour, and even in miraculous circumstances, there is danger of tetanus.

Tetanus.

The lacerations were proved to have been canine in origin. Doctors, veterinarians and trappers consulted have been completely baffled by their length, stating no native creature is capable of inflicting wounds suchlike to a man grown.

With this nightmare put to page I hope the oily tendrils of it are scraped from my mind. I must retire to steam the wound again. Most, my spirit is shaken. I have not felt anxiety like it since the war.

I cannot complain overmuch, but blast sleeping on my front! How anyone finds solace in this repose is beyond my imagining, I feel like a lizard basking on hot stones.

April 20th, M Bryn-Kolkiln

[punishandenslavesuckers]

Look. You will have my undying love and gratitude if you ever wrote anything ever about trans!Magnus. Because there is just not enough of it in this fandom and you're literally my fave writer here

Like literally anything. Small oneshot? Sure. Whatever. Incorporated into something else? Yeah, okay. Just anything. I’m desperate. Your writing is amazing and i hunger for any trans!Magnus content ever. (Side note: if you can’t/won’t it’s totally cool I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask and/or beg. Sorry!)

I GOT YOU FRIEND. TRANS!MAGNUS FIC. MALEC DEALS WITH A MOMENT OF DYSPHORIA BROUGHT ON BY THE WEIRD COMPLEXITIES OF MAGIC INTERFACING WITH IDENTITY:

Magnus gets into more fights than most High Warlocks.

This is one of the first things Alec learns about as he navigates the strange political and social topography of dating Magnus Bane. Among the roulette wheel of immortal faces that stand out in the Clave’s vast library of historical operators, Magnus Bane looms large. His fingerprints are everywhere now that Alec cares to look it – in their rune deployment tech, the portal system layout, the ward structures, and magic defense batteries young shadowhunters take into the field.

There’s a lot that Magnus has influenced. Henry Branwell saw to that – tying a warlock to the beating heart of the New York Institute in a way that horrified and enraged leadership back in the day.

“Brave man,” Magnus said about Henry Branwell. “There were days back then he had to bar to the door to our workroom because his colleagues wanted to come in and throw me out. One time, they were trying to kick the door down. He had to literally fistfight them in the hallway.”

“Really?

Magnus shrugged.

“That’s just how it was. It was one thing to call on warlocks in the field, it was another to really work with one. Henry was adamant that I complete my work. He kept saying, Magnus, they can’t kill you if you finish installing the ward system. They’ll be too scared that you’ll blow the place up.”

And then he laughed.

Alec Lightwood knows a lot of things about Magnus Bane.

He knows that Magnus taught shadowhunter trainees for a brief period through the eighties and nineties. He knows they pay him an average of three point five million a year to maintain the New York wards systems and the fee structure for custom portal work. He knows Magnus has fifteen recorded shadowhunter kills on file, all pre-dating the Accords or committed during the Uprising. All charges pardoned in light of circumstance. On record he said, at his court date, “Yeah, thanks.”

He knows they paid him a pittance in reparations in the nineteen twenties for the millions of dollars in property taken from him over the centuries and Alec knows Magnus Bane was one of the only warlocks ever paid a reparation amount.

Other things Alec knows:

He hates the smell of oranges. He’s ambidextrous. He’s won three national Lindy-Hop competitions under various aliases. He lies constantly about his age. He uses magic to style his hair and make-up, but when he’s stressed out, will do it by hand. He smells a little like ion when he uses magic and covers that with cosmetic charms and cologne. He can punch a hole in a brick wall without the aid of magic, but it will break all the bones in his knuckles to do it. He loses control of his aesthetic magic when he’s flustered. He likes it when Alec pushes him around a little. He chose the name Magnus Bane.

He has another name, but he’ll never tell Alec what it was.

“Why?”

“It’s dangerous and it’s not my name.”

“Oh.” A pause. “What do you mean?”

And Magnus explained it and that was that. 

It’s ridiculous how fast a good night can go bad. 

Magnus and Alec have a drink at a warlock-run dive bar in the Upper West Side where Magnus has a few too many gin and tonics, orders two hot fudge sundaes, and ties a cherry stem with his tongue just to show off. Then he gets in a fight with a towering warlock in town in Ireland about some ancient disagreement from the 17thcentury. Alec, as usual, isn’t sure if he should be interceding on Magnus’ behalf or not and so he kind of lurks in the backdrop of the argument, listening, waiting…

Right up until the guy from Ireland says, loudly, “Damn your dark eyes, you shifty fucker!”

And then he hits Magnus in the chest with a palmful of magic and knocks him spine-first into the bar. He hits the counter hard, the air knocked out of his lungs, body crackling with arcane lightning. He makes a choked, kind of panicked noise, his entire face screwing up until he’s unrecognizable in agony and –

Alec’s across the room, instantly.

There are five runes that activate automatically when his adrenaline spikes: haste, stamina, strength, and clarity. So the Irish warlock doesn’t see Alec coming until he brings an entire chair down across his back with full, devastating nephlim strength. Floors him cold in a that single blow. Then the world catches up to him and the whole bar is full of screaming. Alec tosses the chair aside and moves to Magnus, who’s still fetched up against the counter, clutching his chest, hanging there like his legs can’t take the weight.

“Magnus? Magnus, are you okay?”

He shakes his head. His fist is closed in the fabric of his jacket. He can’t seem to breath.

Other patrons are out of their seats, coming to check on the commotion. He can hear them muttering ‘shadowhunter’ and ‘nephlim’ and ‘what happened?’ and becomes very aware he’s the only shadowhunter in a bar full of warlocks. Magnus hooks an arm around the back of his neck, hanging his weight of Alec’s shoulders and then his mouth is against Alec’s ear, breathing static against his skin. That’s strange, Alec could have sworn Magnus had five o’clock shadow when they were kissing before but his cheek is clean shaven. What–?

“Get me out of here,” Magnus rasps. His voice sounds odd.

Alec happily obliges.

They’re in the street seconds later, Alec one-man walk assisting Magnus for a full block until the warlock gets his legs under him again. He keeps his arm around Alec, leaning on him for another few blocks before his breathing normalizes again. Is strange. Alec’s hyper-focused, the world jumping at him in pieces – the model and license plates of passing cars, the menu in a dinner window, the fact Magnus seems… lighter for a full block. That his wrist seems thinner in Alec’s grip, or his sports jacket a little too baggy.

He glances at Magnus, but he’s got his face pressed against his shoulder, so Alec can’t see his eyes or his features. He seems like he’s doing it on purpose but Alec’s worried. Magnus has magic on him still, crackling at his fingertips, in his hair.

“Magnus, what did he hit you with?”

“Cheap shot,” Magnus croaks. Again, his voice sounds wrong. “I’m okay. Give me a second.”

“Magnus. Here, let me—” He starts to reach for Magnus’ waist, his palm fitting to his ribs and sliding down to maybe grab his belt or –

“Stop! Don’t!”

Alec stops. He takes his hand back up to Magnus’ shoulder. Okay, there’s really something wrong with his voice. He doesn’t even sound like himself.

“Just… just keep walking. It’ll fade. Just…”

“Okay. Okay, I’ve got you.”

By the time they get to the end of the block, his runes are starting to disengage and Magnus’ weight feels normal again against his ribs. Magnus is shaking a little. Adrenaline shivers. He pulls away from Alec and scrubs two hands over his face, turning away from him and walking away, shoulders hunched. Alec watches him, wary, letting his boyfriend shake off whatever curse it was that other warlock hit him with. Magnus shakes his head, shakes his hands out, pats down his chest and stomach.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay, okay.”

He turns back to Alec.

His eyes are gold fading into brown.

“Sorry. I wasn’t in danger. That just threw me. I’m okay.”

“You’re okay?” Alec says, not moving, not sure if he’s allowed.

“I’m okay.” Magnus extends two hands, beckoning him back. “Sorry I snapped.”

Alec moves forward, fitting his hand to Magnus’ neck and he runs his thumb along his jaw which is…yes, just a little rough under the pad of his finger. Alec studies him closely. Magnus looks like himself in the glow of the street lights and storefronts – dark, focused eyes staring calmly up at him from the ageless architecture of his face. Alec, uncertain suddenly, tentatively runs his fingers along the sharp crest of his cheekbone, following the zygomatic arch around his eye, his thumb brushing Magnus’ lips.

“I thought… for a second…?”

Magnus reaches up, gently takes his hand and squeezes it.

“Raleigh hit me with a kind of transfiguration spell.” He says this quietly, his voice rough in his throat. Familiar now, just as Alec knows it. Magnus sighs. “I think he meant to rip my cosmetic glamore off, but he’s always been stronger than he knows how to control. Particularly drunk. His magic tends to… follow the spirit of the intention rather that the letter of the spell.”

“What did he mean to do?” Alec says softly.

“Expose me, I think. But when you’re drunk, that tends to amplify an intent.” Magnus clears his throat, wiping the back of his hand across his face. “His spell hit like a hex, so I wasn’t myself for a moment there.”

“You wanna talk about it?

Magnus hesitates. “I told you about… I haven’t always been…” He trails away. He looks uncomfortable. “You know. Like this.”

“What does that have to do with –?” Alec stops.

Oh.

Magnus looks… wow, terrified. Pale. Like he’s a little sick to the stomach.

Alec swallows. Quickly calculates. He’s not sure what’s the right thing here. Maybe there is no right but… he cups the warlock’s face in his hands and smiles down at him.

“Well, like you said: you weren’t yourself. Glad to have this face back.”

He leans down, slowly, just to gauge Magnus’ expression and when he sees a kind of hopeful longing, he catches the warlock’s lips against his and kisses him. Kisses him harder. Pulling him close. He waits until Magnus kisses him back, opening is mouth against Alec so he can lean into that tempting press of tongue. And then he’s backing Magnus up against a wall between a bike shop and a café. Not because he’s so desperate for it, but so he can press his body against the familiar lines of Magnus’ legs, hips, and torso. Outline him in pressure and friction, map it out for him. Make it real. Alec drags his hands down Magnus’ chest, under his jacket, over his ribs, digging his fingers into muscle and counting out every rib.

“You good?” Alec mumurs. “You with me?”

Magnus has his arms around Alec’s neck, breathing slowly against his neck.

“Yeah.”

“See. You’re right here.” He presses Magnus against the wall, lines his hips up with Magnus, holding him there. “Feel that?”

Magnus laughs. “Yes.”

Alec kisses him, his mouth, his jaw, the arch of his adam’s apple, down along his collar bone. He keeps his hand over Magnus’ heart, his palm spread over the hard plane of his right pectoral, pressing heat there. He can feel his heart beating against his ribs. Feel every breath in his lungs rising and falling.

“I love this face,” Alec whispers. “I love you. Okay, Magnus Bane? This is you, right here.”

Magnus holds onto him. “How do you know the right things to say?”

“I don’t. I’m just guessing. Let’s get out of here and get ice cream.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Alec takes Magnus by the hand and they step off the curb into the night.

[inanebox]

A Letter Not Sent

It’s been almost two months ever since I came here. I intentionally get myself busy with doing a lot of work, not to think of too many things at once that distract the center of myself at the same time.

The most distracting ones are surely my hubby, my little one and my dad, people I loved the most, love the most, and will love the most.

So I started tutoring, I had a great chance to teach a student who had lived in China for more than 10 years. I kind of missing teaching children as well as my family more.

If I get myself super busy, I can jump into REM right after lying down on my bed without thinking too much.

Then I came to realize it’s not a wise thing to do. I used to talk on the phone to my dad, sometimes it lasted for more than an hour. He solely listened to my problem, concerns, possible solutions then gave me some feedback based on his perspective and knowledge, but he never pushed me to choose a direction he wanted. He let me choose what I wanted to do after listening to his ones.

I did the same thing to my hubby every time he had some struggles. Every time he was dealing with some difficult matters, he used to ask me for help, I just listened, then gave him possible solutions, then let him decide.

Then, since my hubby gets exhausted playing with my little one (she is super duper energetic) he would fall asleep like a zombie quite occasionally. So I’ve decided writing any stories with my dad that I truly miss during my whole life. I have tremendous stories and episodes, black comedies with my dad.

Younger me was like an adventurous and super independent person. I did anything by myself and didn’t ask for help that much. I thought it was wise not to ask questions.

Much younger Rachel was a curious cat. I was the one who kept asking millions of questions to my parents, however, no matter how many questions I asked my parents, my dad, and mom had always sought a pleasant ping-pong like conversation, they had never let me feel disappointed in terms of asking questions. Later on, from my age of 8, my dad used to take me to his lab, and I played with semiconductor circuits while my dad was working with his co-workers even during the weekend. He used to give me legos or a whole bunch of electric circuits for me to assemble and dissemble alongside whatever books I loved reading in his lab. I could even ask questions to his co-workers, now I know how bad I was in his lab. I also feel thankful many of his co-workers seemed to love (even if they didn’t) having the various random conversation with a little girl.

My dad was the one who always respected my solutions and self decision-making. He always gave me construct but honest feedback. He told me my strengths, weaknesses, and things to work on. He treated me as his team member. However, he had never confined any of my answer as the wrong one. He always started his conversation in this way, like “Hey, it’s a good approach, and I understand you can think of it in that way.” After listening to my whole probable solutions or suggestions, he would say, “You’ve got a great point, but there may be millions of other thoughts and ideas you can run into. Let me put it this way.” Then he gave some advice and feedback on his experience and knowledge, then he gave me another assignment.

“You should briefly tell me 3 more different perspectives until the end of this week.”

Then I had to read three or four pieces or different newspaper editorials (he had usually subscribed 3 newspaper which holds three different points of view, conservative, radical, and mid-radical ones. After getting used to reading the three editorials, including English newspaper, I had to give a short presentation to my dad but in a very casual way, like “A’s main point was this, B’s main point was that, and C’s perspective is as follows. I personally think all three is wrong…..” or I sometimes supported one of the three (or more than that) with my own perspective and point of view.

He strongly believed that I would work with people from all over the countries, and said, “You should not only understand whatever is happening around the world in many fields but also comprehend and interpret different perspectives on the same matter, after building those perspectives, you should build up your own paradigm, but your paradigm can be attacked or modified, even so, you should be flexible enough to share, arrange, and modify your ideas if others think you’re wrong. It doesn’t mean that you accept the way it is. You might be wrong, or they might be wrong, or both of you guys are right, or both of you guys are wrong. The most important thing is to have a stem in your brain and heart, but it has to be flexible to build up more branches if the new information and perspective is found. That’s what science is. It’s not the law. It’s the consensus what majority of people believe it is right, but if it’s wrong, people should head toward the way which is more right with facts, supports, evidence, as well as insight. If not, your world collapses even theirs, but the funny things are sometimes no parties are affected.

He also used to say, “You should remember the two things. Don’t let others hurt you, at the same time, let others hurt you. You can put it in this way as well, your paradigm should be flexible enough to change the status as a stem cell, a host, and a mitochondrion or whatever else that any better ideas can linger on, or help them to evolve.”

All the words what my dad once said to me are still as vivid and clear as yesterday, I had a conversation like above almost every single day with my dad.

I have thought I was blessed to have parents like my mom and dad. So losing my dad was like the end of the world. I kind of hypnotising myself that my dad is always with me, and back in Korea, while driving back home from work, I used to drive for an hour from the west end of Seoul to east end of Seoul for more than 2 years, and if my hubby, sis, mom, or friends were busy with anything, I used to call my invisible dad and talked to him about whatever good things or bad things I had. It’s kind of self-healing ritual I used to have.

But somehow, after working in various companies and academies, I kind of realized it’s not recommended asking too many questions (if you work in a Korean company) doing my own thing is thought to be a virtue or anything.

Then a long time after, after reaching 30s, I worked with more and more people from many different companies and places, in various field, and came to realize if you don’t know how to deal with, it’s better to ask people who are in charge of. It’s better than making mistakes, even if people think you are bothersome.

Figuring out curiosity and questions by myself gives more accomplishment, that’s for sure, however, if you can ask help, get help, and give help to others at the same time, that inter-mutual working productivity goes way much better. (even if it’s not always the same)

I still think I learn till I die. I learned the world from the book, from traveling from my parents, and relatives, (some of my relatives are just like my dad) from my friends, from my colleagues, from my students, from my boss, from my seniors, from my juniors, from the quiet time only with myself, from every single step and moment I take.

A barking dog can give me a lesson, a crawling baby can give me a lesson, a student can give me the much bigger lesson. a friend can give me a lesson, an uncle can give me a lesson, a floating stream can give me a lesson, a falling leaf can give me a lesson, a raindrop can give me a lesson, a food can give me a lesson, a single piece of paper can give me a lesson, a pair of ripped jeans can give a lesson, Age, place, and subject don’t matter at all.

Not to mention, I should also admit the one who affected my life a zillion more times is my dad.

I am heading to 40, I only have 4 years to become 40. Even I should face my 60s, 70s, or 80s, I would learn so many things from my potential grandchildren, and community junior as well as much older generations and friends who would survive. (or I could die in a car accident or a natural disaster tomorrow. I always think like that that ever since I was a child that I could die tomorrow.)

I really respect my husband because he listens to others, he analyzes himself, then he modifies his mistakes and weaknesses to be a better person even if he doesn’t have to sometimes. I do that as well. That’s what my dad used to be, I guess it was just like a very natural thing to like him because no matter how long the conversation goes on, it never let me get bored or bothersome, just like the conversation I used to have my dad.

Maybe my late dad knew he would be gone forever until I die, then he brought up a guy whom I can talk to as I did to my dad, he kind of had a gut that he is the one who can solely respect my world, and grow together, so he said to my soon-to-be husband when I first brought him to my house, “Thank you for saving us from Rachel. Now it’s your turn.”

Well, to be honest, I miss those two guys badly now.

To sum these crazy random access memories short, I began writing again, just like a Rachel who used to write a lot more stories and thoughts every single day. Not sure how many days it would last, but I will try my best to get the best of it remembering my dad’s daily legacy as well as documenting how my little one’s maternal grandfather was that she would never have a chance meeting him in this dimension. She can picture her grandpa if she reaches a certain age to understand the text to the virtuality, then my dad would be living in her heart as vivid as living it is in my heart.

[personalcoachingcenter]

Research Paper: Claiming Your Influential Power

New Post has been published on https://personalcoachingcenter.com/research-paper-claiming-your-influential-power/

Research Paper: Claiming Your Influential Power

Research Paper By Isobel Phillips (Leadership Coach, IRELAND)

Maureen Simon is an acclaimed consultant, teacher, and speaker with 25 years of experience in international business consulting and community development, including serving to mediate political conflict in Northern Ireland and Eastern Europe.

Maureen is the author of Awakening the Essential Feminine: Claiming Your Influential Power and has worked with tens of thousands of women worldwide. She bases her work on the strong belief that our world cultures now need, more than ever before, for women to step into their rightful power and leadership roles, and that that advanced skill development in the areas of communication, confidence building, and leadership and career development are all essential for women in business to fully contribute. Maureen is also a friend and colleague and kindly agreed to spend some time with me discussing coaching and women’s empowerment.

I began by asking Maureen about her history with coaching, and with coaching women in particular. Maureen explained:

My history with coaching began in London in 1997, when coaching came to London.  I was asked by Coach U to be a part of the launch there because Tom Leonard, the head of the school at the time, was there and he was getting massive spreads in the Times, to get the idea that there might be another way to go about personal transformation other than the psychiatrist’s or the psychologist’s chair.  And that was really important back then because, as you know, England can have a conservative nature.  So, opening up and revealing a lot of really deep personal things would work for some, but not for everyone.

There were about five of us, and we were the first trained in Europe as coaches, and we discussed the idea of creating more publicity, more interest, so my whole mission was to get the word out.  Vogue, and Red magazine, and all these places were like, what is this?  Of course, you know, it’s a very different, nice medium that doesn’t really make us have to go back into the deep dark, nor does it make us reveal everything about ourselves, to move forward.  The idea of coaching was a clear pathway to discovery.  And on that clear pathway to discovery, people could give as much as they wished, as you can in therapy, as well, but it’s an easier way to come to self-knowledge and knowing thyself, as Socrates said than the expectation that we need to bare some of our soul.

Sothen as this whole thing launched it just took off like wildfire, because the concept was so innovative, in 1997. I was going all North-South and East and West for interviews, TV, and radio, and it just ended up becoming something that people just wanted to know more about.  It was the perfect fit for the culture.  So, then, of course, Ireland is next door and Europe.  And people looked to London for innovation and it just went through the whole area and, as you know, continues to do so.  So that was the early time of my involvement.  And there were five people, and I know them and have great respect for them.  We bought businesses and practices, and, to this day, I do some coaching and a lot of consulting.  It’s always been a part of my tapestry and my fabric, really.  It’s core to my being.  I learned a lot in the process of setting it up and becoming a coach, and I learned a tremendous amount about myself.

I shared that one of the things I love about coaching is that you don’t need to reveal everything about your past to move forward, and Maureen picked up this point:

We want to encourage the people that we work with to integrate more of who we are because we’re whole.  We need to integrate the past, the present, and where we want to go — that’s the whole being.  We aren’t standing there saying, “Now, I need to know this to move forward”.  The difference between coaching and therapy is that we’re really integrating as much as we can from the past but we’re also building on what we have in front of us.

I next asked Maureen about the benefits that coaching can offer women in particular.

I am such a women’s advocate that I would almost have to say that I think it benefits everyone so much that that’s an area that I haven’t particularly pigeon-holed women.  I’m strongly an advocate of certain attributes and brain differences, and a lot of my work stems from the differences between the male and female brain, and that’s a controversial area, today, in science.  But I do still think that women are relational, and have the ability to connect intuitively, and through the connection with another, we have the ability to create something quite magical, perhaps even immeasurable.  And that’s where the coaching relationship, being so personal and one-on-one, is a high advantage.

I don’t want to separate people too much, but the question does ask me to do so, and if I’m going to go in that direction, I’d say that a lot of decisions have in the past been made by men on the golf course, and while golf clubs are not so much exclusive to that, anymore, the tradition still does live on.  We have to be honest about that.  So, women, instead of having that environment, can take that personal dialogue of questioning and introspection, and they do very well in gathering themselves in particular, in more intimate environments, in my opinion after working with hundreds of women.

I’m watching our current state of affairs and seeing that because we’re working online because we’re so focused on the absolute distant connections instead of the intimate connections, women are going to suffer a little from that.  That’s one of the areas that I really want to focus on now, looking at how can we create these environments, these mentorships, these dialogues, particularly online so that women can have that intimate connection because we thrive there.  Coaching, and the work that we’re both doing, can actually still greatly benefit women. Online isn’t best, but if we have to work online, we will.  Keep women talking.  Keep women connected.  Keep mentoring programs going online.  Keep things happening.  They don’t have a golf course.  They won’t have the golf course, but they still need that intimate environment to make up for a lost time, to move forward, and to be able to be much more of who they are, in their work environment, on or off-line.

In her book, Awakening the Essential Feminine: Claiming Your Influential Power, Maureen talks about the intrinsic powers that women hold. She explained more:

I’ve been reconnecting with the book recently because I basically launched it and it sold around the world, and I’ll give you a sample and speak to them.

Relationships.  Women collaborate at a very high level.  We can hear each other and move forward through support.  It’s a very, very positive way for women to connect.  They have inter-connectedness, the ability to connect deeply, and value communication, care, compassion, and empathy.  A woman who inspired me to think about that is Helen Fisher, who wrote “The First Sex”.  She’s a Rutgers professor and has done tremendous amounts around the world about the relationship and the attraction principle.

She gave an example that some of this was formed back in the day, when we would be together, say, by a lake, and your children and my children were there, and I would be watching all the children. I would be taking in the whole environment as I really mothered because it takes a community to raise a child.  Anthropologists have studied the way the female brain is more developed between the right and left hemispheres, with a 14% thicker tissue connecting both hemispheres.  Helen Fisher discusses that whole area, as an anthropologist, looking at what really created that area connectivity, and it comes from that environment. These are natural attributes from the feminine, within the female, that relate to the female.  There’s plenty of others. I’m just really getting exciting going back into this with you.

And language.  The language that we speak is often connected and cooperative.  So, if I were talking to you, I might ask, “Can I get an idea of what you need right now?’ And you’d be, “Well, yeah, you know, I didn’t sleep.  Or the baby was…”  There’s connectivity that’s natural within the feminine.  Now, we have to go back if we’re going to talk about the book and make sure that we clearly say that both men and women hold the masculine and the feminine, it’s not just one.  So, the idea is that it’s in both, it’s in all of us. But sometimes we’ll have a dominant set of attributes.  Feminine attributes that will guide us sometimes need more masculine.  These are the really pure ones that I think are so powerful.  The way we think is often known to be more mentally flexible because of the cortex tissue formation. Women think more flexibly and use a lot of verbal agility and big descriptions.

There are two reasons, really.  It’s socialization and it’s brain biology.  Probably one of my favorite traits is that we work with power from a place of contribution and connectivity.  In the book, I talk about “power with” as opposed to “power over”, and that’s because we care for the whole and we’re focused on community.  I look at NGOs and say, “Why are there so many women leading NGOs?”  Even if it was massive amounts of money to lead an NGO, which it isn’t, you have to care for the community.  These things are linked in our cultures, and that’s just a handful of them. There are 26 attributes in “Awakening the Essential Feminine – Claiming Your Influential Power”, in nine areas of life.  It’s something I just kept seeing and did a lot of research to make points to hold that and then wrote the book.

Maureen has been revisiting her book, in light of current views on sex and gender. I asked how she has found that process:

You know, I’ve had a journey on that, and it tested me.  Consulting in corporations, you really do need to be very open on the playing field, and very, very empathetic about where everyone is in their lives, and what their experiences are, particularly when working with leaders.  I’ve learned that for some people, considering brain difference isn’t comfortable.  I had to go back into my research and look at it and go back and read the research on the male and female brain, like Brizendine’s work from San Francisco. And I brought myself back to see that I do really, truly, stand by the book and the brain differences.  One thing I’m not here to do is create a difference, but I’m here to create unity.

It’s just part of who I am. The three top values that inform my work are equity, truth, and unity.  If I’m focusing on someone it’s often around the depth of connection to get to know them, to understand them, or to guide them.  But when it comes down to the book, I still believe that the brain is different.  And I’ve come back now, after a summer of really looking at it, and going into other books, texts, and I think there’s a place in the world for us to be united, but to still hold different opinions.  Rather than changing the book, what I am deciding to do is to see these attributes as whatever you want to call them, or whatever you see them as.  They basically will be the universal principles of good living that need to be carried out.  You can file them, however, but how can we get to them?  Some of the courses I’ll be offering will be for women, getting them to own that.

And the reason I still do that work, although I thought I’d be done with it by now, is because I think women still don’t own the natural power that they have been predisposed to and born with.  To answer your question about the book, I would say that there are many theories, and I hold this one. I’m universalizing a little bit more by bringing in men and women, and bringing them to the attributes, and saying, “You have masculine and feminine.  What attributes would you like to build on?”

I observed that Maureen spoke about empowering women and helping them to own their powers, and asked how we go about that:

If you need to make a change, the first thing you need to do is understand a couple of things.  What is that change?  Is the pain for you making that change better, or more comfortable than the gain that you will have when you make the change?  And specifically, what will that affect your life? As we frame change, the most important thing is to get us to understand where we are within the spectrum of change, and then to move towards specific steps.

The first part is to understand, from the core of the being, where the change needs to be.  If they say, “I want to be powerful,” Power comes from a source of knowing ourselves, what we value, and who we are.  The second thing to evaluate is, are you motivated to make this change?  And then the third thing is getting them to even envision, ahead of time, what it would be like to be this clearly defined vision of a woman holding power.  And what would be the benefit to them?  It gets into some cognitive work.  It gets into some very clear workaround choices and values.  It moves into pain versus gain.  It may not always be a pain, but is there a reason?  And then envision that outcome so that we can begin to see it, and then we make it real in the world.  So, it’s a process of knowing myself, first, and committing to change, crystallizing the vision, and moving out in the world with the vision.  Those are the four steps that I would generally bring someone through.

We joke a little about how straightforward it sounds when life is not so straightforward. However, it does summarize the coaching process of self-discovery but to move forward to where you need to be. Maureen observes that it’s also designed by ourselves as we bring people through, as support, and then they infiltrate their part into what becomes a unified process. 

Maureen works a lot with women in corporate roles and works to promote equality and equity in the workplace. I ask what she feels are some of the main issues facing women in the workplace today?

Right now, the biggest issue that I’m seeing on calls, with women, and reading is the inability to be relational in the work environment.  It’s not like we haven’t been online.  We’ve been online.  But there’s something about minimal contact that’s coming up a lot on the calls. In their teams, women can do quite a lot.  Like here, in this environment, maybe there’d be two others with us on a call, and there’s an intimacy of sorts.  But when it comes to now moving from our team to understanding the whole organization, the water cooler talk, the dynamic connection, the intuition that women use when they’re present with someone, their career paths are hindered.  They don’t have that whole dynamic picture.  So, I’m seeing that’s a key issue, which is a concern that I’m working on in as many ways as I can.

The other thing is that people say that the glass ceiling is of the past.  And I work often in finance, where I’m seeing significant holdback on women from actually achieving equal positions at the top of organizations, even higher when we look at the executive pool. Women right at this moment need to hold their vision for their career path and continue to work towards it.  A couple of clients I have are putting in their marketing at high levels and they’re doing more training on digital marketing.  But I’m also working with them to find their own ways, strategically, in their organization, as if we were in person.  The main thing is, don’t give up on the vision that you have for your career.

Secondly, it can be challenging, but it’s really important to decide the place that your work fits into your life at a given time and to not beat yourself up if this is a phase where something different is required.  Time will pass and things will happen.  A lot of women feel like they’re slipping back, so, where I’m working with them is, OK.  If you’re going part-time now because it’s become a different environment.  And let’s face it, a lot of obligations for children, childcare and children’s care and education, is falling on the mother.  So, my thought is, let’s just see this as a temporary sort of pause, but don’t give up on where you’re going and keep making entrees.  Build those networks and know that this too will pass.  Kids will get old enough and they’ll have their own lives.

And then the third thing I work with women on is often to get a tandem track.  And they don’t see themselves clearly enough to know that they can move specifically towards something by design, right now, that will be a part of their future.  We have to be future thinking.  This is the third point.  I think we take on, “Oh my God.  The children are on my lap and I’m on a meeting”. Ah! And so that’s what freezes us.  But it’s not only the women with children.  It’s the women without children. They’re going in the other direction, often, of when they’re working at home that “I’m isolated and the whole world is out here, but I’m over here”.  So, we have all kinds of stories in our lives.  The most important thing to know is that we’re basically here to make a difference, to contribute, to create something bigger than ourselves. In my opinion, with my work, the third track is to work a tandem track and to look to future growth, to procreate.  This is my now and then, here’s where I’m going.  And be clear enough to take daily steps towards that so that you actually are moving specifically towards something.  Otherwise, it will all become a big bundle, you know, yarn that’s tied up in a big knot.

Finally, I invite Maureen to share what gives her hope right now.

I think humans are amazing and I think there are all kinds of humans, and in the heart of each human, there is an amazing spark.  And potentiality is really interesting.  I think we’re in a very disruptive time, on the planet.  There are disruptors in different aspects of our lives, which I think is a good thing, and I think we need it.  I think we can get complacent and fall asleep. I think we need a shake-up to say, what do we value?  What are our lives about? Why am I here?  That’s the crux of the work I do.  Why am I here?  It’s not just to feed the corporations, or whoever.  It’s to really be somebody bigger than myself in those environments.   And I get excited about the potential side because I spend a lot of time working with people to have them understand the bigger picture of their lives.  I believe that we are here for a reason.

One of the many teachers who have been guiding me to that, from many years back, John O’Donohue, a famous Irish poet and writer, put a whole lot of time of his life in teaching us that we’re here for something bigger than ourselves and that it may not be a religious experience but it’s absolutely something that we know we’re here for.  It’s about the meaning.  So, I put a lot of time into that.  I also love nature.  Being here in Ireland is just really and truly phenomenal.  And I love to be connected with art, and music, and dance and movement.  There are so many things that can feed us, no matter how our mood is.  We will always be able to find some upliftment.  And I’m also very big on that.  I have days where I question things and say, “You always loved those four or five things.  But what is it that you’re not seeing about the world?”. because sometimes I do feel as though I have such great hopes that I need to make sure I am empathetically feeling what others are feeling.  We all have those moments, but I feel like I see the greater good and I see that we’re on a good trajectory and a lot is going to get shaken up on this planet as it is.  And I think it’s going to end up landing in a good place, and that gives me hope.

I’m so very grateful to Maureen for sharing her time and thoughts with me. Maureen can be found online at www.maureensimon.com and www.empoweredwomenconsulting.com.

Reference

Simon, M. (2011) Awakening the Essential Feminine: Claiming Your Influential Power. Essential Feminine Publishing

Original source: https://coachcampus.com/coach-portfolios/research-papers/isobel-phillips-interview-with-maureen-simon/

[comebeforegod]

Don’t Be a Cactus, Cast Out Beam in Our Eye to Mix Well

The Lord Jesus said, “And why behold you the mote that is in your brother’s eye, but consider not the beam that is in your own eye? Or how will you say to your brother, Let me pull out the mote out of your eye; and, behold, a beam is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of your own eye; and then shall you see clearly to cast out the mote out of your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:3-5).

Tired with working, I stood up and stretched. Suddenly, a green potted cactus on a colleague’s desk came into my eyes, bringing the fresh scent of nature. Then I came before it. After observing it for a moment, I found that each stem was covered with strong sharp spines, feeling like trying to protect itself with needles. It’s so characteristic that I couldn’t help but touch it. However, when I just touched it, I felt the pain in my hand as if a needle poked me. I muttered to myself angrily, “Cactus, cactus, why do you have so many spines all over that I can’t touch you? If only I could cast out all the spines on you! Then I could get closer to you …”

At that time, my colleague gave a little chuckle. “What are you chuckling about?” I asked curiously. “The words you said to the cactus today are in accordance with what you’ve behaved these days …” said she, smiling.

My colleague’s reminder made me lapse into meditation. I couldn’t refrain from thinking of the recent brushes with another colleague: When I saw that the problems emerged frequently because of her being irresponsible with her work, I pointed out her faults angrily, and asked her to change her attitude toward the work. But she evaded the crucial point, and even changed the subject. Looking at her treating me in a perfunctory manner, I was really angry, but I still communicated with her patiently. Nevertheless, she was not willing to talk with me. As a result, we were all embarrassed, and the relationship between us went wrong rapidly. Although I knew I should love my neighbor as myself, and be tolerant of and patient with her, yet seeing that she was lukewarm toward me, I felt really awful, thinking: You are so difficult to get along with! Evidently, it is you that didn’t do your work well. That I pointed out your faults is to help you, but how could you take this attitude with me? How do you have a spine about you like a cactus such that no one dares to touch you!

Looking at the potted cactus and recalling my states during these days, I couldn’t help but think of God’s words, “People live for so many years, and are unhappy with eighty or ninety percent of what they encounter. You frown upon this and disapprove of that, but what do you dislike? Some of these things are actually your own problems, so you should not make a big deal out of them. When people get older, they realize that they are not noble, and that they are no better than others. Do not think that you are superior to other people, or more dignified and distinguished than they are; you must learn to adapt to your environment … What does it mean to not mind your own business? ‘I will change that bad habit of theirs, or I will have my surname changed!’ What kind of person are you if this is the way you conduct yourself? Insolent, aggressive, and ignorant. Do not be such a person. We are ordinary people, each with two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. People use their mouths to eat, so you, too, must eat with your mouth. If you try to use your nose to eat, it will get irritated. People use their legs to walk, so you, too, must walk with your legs; you cannot possibly fly. People work with their hands, so you, too, must work with your hands; you cannot do it with your feet. There is nothing special about you; you do not have any supernatural powers, and you are not superior to others in any way. We are common people; we are ordinary people. Do not think of yourself as being so noble or great. Even if you possess some special talents, skills, or strengths, they are nothing to brag about.” Only after reading God’s words, did I realize that I couldn’t get on well with my colleague not because of her faults, but because of my arrogant nature. I thought about my behavior: When I saw her deficiencies during the work, instead of treating her fairly, I demanded her to accept my suggestions at once, thinking that I did better than her and used this as my principal; when I saw her feel bad and not want to talk about her faults, I neither considered whether my tone was high and attitude was too severe, nor was understanding of her weaknesses and difficulties, but rather expressed my view blindly, forced my own opinions upon her, and persisted in turning around her thoughts. I believed that I had been helping her selflessly, yet I never dreamt that I had been exposing my arrogant and egotistical disposition, with the result that far from being helpful to her, I harmed her. God sets up the environment, the people, events, and things every day in order to give us lessons to study. However, I fixated my eyes on others, and didn’t examine myself or resolve my own corrupt disposition. I was so conceited that I was devoid of reason, and didn’t have a heart that reveres God at all. Then I thought about all things created by God: Regardless of those which have life or those which don’t have, they are all good in God’s eyes; they each perform their own functions and manifest God’s glory under God’s authority. I am a tiny creature, how am I worthy to give out pointers to the people, events, and things designed by God, and to cast out the “motes” in others? Today, it was just because of God’s sovereignty and arrangement that I could work together with my colleague. God hoped that we could make up for each other’s deficiencies, but I couldn’t treat my colleague’s problems properly and also have high requirements of her, I really didn’t live up to God’s care and thought.

Then I read another passage of God’s words, “When you fellowship the truth and speak the words in your heart, and describe something clearly and understandably, so that it can edify and benefit others, make them understand God’s will, and help them escape misunderstandings and fallacies, is there any need to stand on high? Is there any need to use a lecturing tone? You don’t need to scold them, you don’t need to speak loudly, or shout at them, much less use words, or a tone, or an intonation that are blunt. You just need to learn to use a normal tone, commune from the position and status of an ordinary person, speak calmly, speak the words in your heart, endeavor to pour out what you understand, what other people need to understand, and speak clearly and understandably. When what you say is understandable, other people will understand, your burden will be released, they will cease to have misunderstandings, and you will see what you say more clearly; isn’t this edifying both of you? Is there any need to harangue them? In many cases, there is no need to force this upon them. So what should you do if they don’t accept? Some of what you say is the truth, and things really are as you say, but could people accept them as soon as you say them? What do they need in order to accept these words and to change? They need a process; you must give them a process by which to change … You require them to change by saying these words once—but how many times did you have to be told before you changed? You, too, didn’t change after being told once, nor were you able to understand and accept after being told once, so you must allow your parents a process of change.” Through reading God’s words, I felt shame. I thought: In order to save us, the supreme God speaks utterances to patiently lead us to understand His will and practice His words. Every sentence uttered by God reveals His humbleness, beauty and goodness, and loveliness, allowing us to feel that He takes responsibility for, cares about, and cherishes our lives. However, I am just a tiny created being, and shouldn’t have high requirements of my colleague arrogantly. I should act in accordance with God’s words, and tolerate, forgive and help her. This passage of God’s words showed me the path of practice. I secretly resolved in my heart: From now on, I will turn away from my arrogance and stand on an equal footing when I talk to my colleague. And I won’t force my own opinions upon her any longer or fixate my eyes on her. Regarding some work issues, I can propose them calmly, but can’t make demands of her according to my own standards. When she hasn’t yet to turn around the attitude toward her work, I need to forbear with her and help her finish the work together.

My heart was perfectly clear after understanding these. The previous depression inside and the bias against my colleague were all gone. At that time, when I saw that big potted cactus beside the computer, I no longer felt it was difficult to approach, but felt it possessed the distinguishing feature and mission that the Creator had bestowed upon it. When God helped me cast out the beam from my eye, I finally understood the words that Jesus had ever said, “And why behold you the mote that is in your brother’s eye, but consider not the beam that is in your own eye? Or how will you say to your brother, Let me pull out the mote out of your eye; and, behold, a beam is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of your own eye; and then shall you see clearly to cast out the mote out of your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:3-5).