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tsaritsa · 4 years ago

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check my time

firstly; ever write something and be like. oh damn. i wrote that bitch? that's me rn

secondly, this title is taken from rebecca black's friday. shenanigans were had in the royai support group discord in which we were determined to title some fics with that immortal song. come hang with us! it's pretty fun and we only occasionally have so-bad-it's-good ideas like this.

you can also read this over on ao3

It is perhaps, unsurprising, that Major Mustang initially believes that it was because of him that she signed up for service. His idyllicism is perhaps the most enduring trait she has to remember him by: a young man, proudly wearing his blues and speaking of the way he would coax the country in a better, grander, position than where it started. His inherent paternalism – and it is that, he wants to make the country into his image and nothing less – is inherited from her own father. He too, believed, understood, proved that he knew the way forward.

It is a bit of a joke now how personally he seems to take this new knowledge – this was not part of his plan. Perhaps he thought he would return after the war, a decorated hero with new depths to those dark eyes and sweep her off her feet like so many of her dorm sisters have been in recent years. What few letters that do make their way to the estate – and subsequently, months later to the front – are notices of marriage, and once, an invitation to attend herself. Laura had been one of the kinder girls, and a small part of Riza that’s been tucked away between the notches on her rifle would’ve liked to see her in white, watched the celebration with a distance that Laura wouldn’t have questioned or assumed was rude.

But Riza is unable to entertain such fantasies. This country would rather look the other way than acknowledge the cost of this war, the amount of people being flung into the sand just to keep the effort justifiable. There are rumours that another train line has been taken out, and necessary supplies that were already months late will now never arrive. It’s a wonder any letters managed to find their way to her at all.

Major Mustang has a peculiar habit of finding her no matter where she is in the encampment. At first, she pegs it down to coincidence, but later it becomes clearer that he is seeking her out in some fashion, even if most times he refuses to engage with her at all. Perhaps he thinks he can protect her in this way, a careful eye watching from a distance. It is laughable. The distance Riza is able to set between herself and any unwanted target easily outstrips his distance for accuracy. She can and will limit her damage. He razes through it all as if the end result is the only thing that matters. Perhaps that’s true. The reality of bending a land, a people, to your will is never as simple as her superiors make it out to be.

Part of her resents this treatment, resents the hovering that the others in her unit have picked up on. They’re snipers, after all. They’re meant to look at the wider picture, notice small, subtle shifts in the landscape. It takes them a little longer to deduce who he’s trying to shadow, but after another few days of watching him not-wander with not-purpose, her spotter nudges her, faintly tilting his head towards 11 o’clock.

“Perhaps he’s never seen a woman with short hair before. I hear he came from Central – fuckwits, the lot of them.”

Her spotter, Dylan, is a stout young man, with a face that had not lost the fat of his youth until very recently. He, like her, was pushed through quickly, at the pleading of higher-ups who were wholly unprepared for their theatres of war. The two of them are well aware of the incompetence that has resulted in their posting. This knowledge is what protects them more than the briefings they receive.

A tense smile pulls at the edges of her lips. “I have the unfortunate pleasure of being acquainted with him. I would hesitate to paint him with the same brush as the soldiers from the last tour though.”

Dylan scoffs, picking at the cervidae meat the cooks managed to scrounge up. It’s probably a sacred animal in these parts. “Does he think you don’t belong here?”

Riza hums. “I think he envisioned a different future for me. I think I’ve ruined the fantasy.”

The man introduced to her briefly as Maes Hughes seeks her out some weeks later. He is an interesting man. Riza thinks he is like the prisms that fracted light in her Father’s study: she spies different fragments of him, personalities and idiosyncrasies that layer over one another if you view him just so. He is canny and shrewd, and Riza is not surprised that Major Mustang has made his acquaintance. His ability to seek out power and bend it to suit his whims is perhaps the most crucial thing to understand about him. It does not necessarily matter what the substance of the power is, it only matters in how he can exploit it for his personal use.

“Hawkeye,” Maes Hughes says shortly, deliberately stepping into pace with her as she moves through the camp. She had been seeking some rest. She knows now that that will be difficult to do unless she plays his game.

“Captain Hughes,” she responds, dipping her head in acknowledgment. It is perhaps a little ruder for a greeting than other superiors would allow, but Riza surmises that Maes Hughes doesn’t care much for inane rules and pageantry out here. He is not thriving in this environment, merely surviving like her.

“This isn’t about Roy,” he begins, and Riza appreciates the bluntness. “Well, not from him. But I thought we could talk.”

Riza inclines her head to the outer encampment, the side that overlooks into the valley. It’s never as busy here, particularly in the afternoon as the sun sinks down over the mountains and the desert chill begins to set in. “What about?” She will make him work for this conversation. She is well aware of who could – would – be privy to it.

Hughes is quiet for a moment as he leans against one of the tent poles. “I confess I’m curious about the two of you. Roy is fiercely protective of you. Others are beginning to notice.”

“He’s stubborn like that.”

“Is there a reasonable explanation for his behaviour?”

Part of Riza thinks it would be rather funny to divulge her secrets again. Make his power and devastation inert by granting everyone the same ability that he wields so selfishly, covets even more so. But it’s a passing fancy, a fantasy she’ll never get to fully realise, much like the goals she imagines he had in place for her. Hughes has already played some of his cards by investigating what he’s already identified to be Mustang’s weakest link, and Riza feels it’s only fair to work within the estimation he has already formed of her. She will never let her back be used against her again. Major Mustang put paid to that lesson for her.

“His alchemy apprenticeship was a few houses down from where I lived. There weren’t many young people in the village. We were… acquaintances, I suppose,” she begins, testing the words on her tongue. Dylan hadn’t needed a story to assess Major Mustang. He didn’t need to be convinced of anything he couldn’t already surmise from looking at him.

“Perhaps he was sweet on me; I confess I never paid much attention, as my father was a sick man and required almost all of my attention. It was strange to realise that one of the soldiers I saved was someone I knew –” the parapraxis isn’t lost on her but Hughes’ face is impassive, waiting. Either he was a good listener or what he was suspicious of had not been confirmed so far. “ – Maybe it is strange for him too,” she concludes, rubbing the muscle that connects her thumb to the fleshy part of her palm.

Hughes appears to mull over her words. “He must be very sweet on you, then.” There’s a warning nestled in that sentence, an acknowledgment that he caught her use of tense just as he corrects her on which is the truth – what he knows is the truth.

Riza rolls her shoulders slowly. “I wouldn’t assume to know his feelings on the matter. He hasn’t talked to me since our last meeting. In all honesty, Captain, I don’t think there is much to talk about either. We’re just ghosts in each other’s pasts.”

“He doesn’t treat you like a ghost.”

“My spotter has come to calling him that. He always seems to lingering like some forgotten shade.”

Hughes pushes himself off the tent pole he was leaning against, shoving his hands into his pockets. Riza was right, he is a clever man – knows better than to needle someone continually for information they’re not willing to part with yet. His patience would undoubtedly be tempering some of Major Mustang’s worst impulses. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t approached her again.

“I just felt warning you would be the right thing to do,” he says. “Considering I’m now not alone in my understandings.”

Riza blinks slowly. “Thank you for the warning, Captain Hughes,” she replies. He probably thinks he’s being kind, extending a hand to the young ingénue who’s out of her depth in a horror that’s only halfway done. Maybe Major Mustang had crafted that story for Hughes as well; of his role in this story he still seems to be writing. He is the hero. They are the supporting cast as much as the sand they stand on.

I thought you’d wait for me; he had hissed over the campfire at their first meeting.

I thought you’d help people; she had taunted as the embers sunk into the ash.

#fullmetal alchemist #royai #riza hawkeye #maes hughes #fma #my fanfic #been a while so why not just sink my teeth into my fav hobby #aka riza murking the fuck outta roy's character

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absynthe--minded · 4 years ago

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Magic headcanons and How It Works in Tolkien, elaborate pls!

so the big thing I’m gonna start with is that Tolkien’s magic system is kind of purposefully left nebulous and undefined? it’s not typical of later fantasy stories where how the supernatural thing works, and the limitations thereof, is important to the plot or the mechanics of the world. there aren’t spell slots or power levels here, you don’t have to level up constantly to get more powerful or whatever. what we have are a few explicitly magical items (the Rings, the elven-cloaks, Lúthien’s hair, the star-glass, the Silmarils, the elvish rope) and a few explanations of innate magical abilities (ósanwë specifically comes to mind) and the general statement that for elves, making things magically is just… how they craft, what they do. we get mentions of spells of all kinds, and of a few race-specific perks or bonuses that seem magical and very well might be but never get explained beyond “this is normal for them” - I’m thinking of how hobbits are basically confirmed to be able to hide from prying eyes in the LotR prologue, but it’s not really confirmed or denied whether or not it’s magic.

we also have beings who are inherently, specifically supernatural - the Ainur, and the Valar and Maiar who leave the greater host to take up residence in/around earth. they are stated to teach magic occasionally, and also to have great power of their own that permits them to manipulate the natural world around them and arrange it to their liking. this is I think really telling, because the majority of Tolkien’s magics fall under that umbrella idea of “ordering and shaping the world according to the will of the magic-user”. a lot of the feats of magic that we see are explicitly intended to be used in some form of alteration of the physical realm, from Rivendell and Lothlórien being havens out of time to the Valar crafting the Trees.

the other “half” of Tolkien’s magic has to do with perception and will. free will is more or less sacrosanct in Arda - Túrin is cursed, but he has free will, and is able to do good things with that free will, and that’s consistent with the rest of the story - and so there’s little that can be done to directly countermand or overcome someone else’s willpower without physically exhausting them or confounding them somehow. Gondolin is protected by enchanted waters that echo back the sounds and footsteps of those who enter into the caves that lead there, Valinor is protected by enchanted mists and islands that confuse and confound those who try and seek it out, etc.

here’s where I get into headcanon. everything past this point is What Absynthe Thinks Is Canon rather than explicitly What The Text Says. I think it’s canonically grounded and I’m happy to be the source for someone else’s interpretation? but I’m not the source of the objective truth here.

so.

how I see it is this: Tolkien’s magic has four distinct parts, and all of them work in tandem to accomplish one of those two goals (altering the world or confusing and confounding the mind)

Willpower, and how much force of will you can put behind an action or a desire

Song, and particularly the ability to harness the primordial forces of Song that shaped the world to make your desires reality

Craft, and putting will and intent into an object, either through the aid of song or solely through will.

Innate power, either coming from the sort of creature you are (Maiar etc) or your bloodline.

Willpower is pretty self-explanatory, and has the most work done in-text to examine how it works. Glaurung overcomes Nienor’s will and erases her memory. Smaug almost tricks Bilbo into letting his guard down and falling into the same trap. Frodo is able to resist the Ring due to his will to remain himself, motivated by love and nobility. Finrod fails in his duel with Sauron because his will is overcome. We’re told canonically that telepathy cannot overcome or supersede free will, and so if you really wanted to keep someone from reading your mind, you could with practice and the cultivated skill of directing your willpower to resist another, and Galadriel informs Frodo that his ability to use the Ring is limited because his will and his innate capacity for power are both too limited. I tend to think this extends to magic as well - what you can accomplish is ultimately curtailed by your will. There are other factors, but the most important one seems to be “do you want this to happen? how?” Willpower is also your greatest protection against being overcome by other supernatural forces, and it can feel like a sentient thing that’s worth fearing when wielded by skilled and powerful users - I’m thinking of how Morgoth imbued his thralls with a bone-deep fear of him that drove them into irrational terror if they ever escaped.

Song is a medium for magic, and this is also what we see in canon. Song made the world, and shaped it, and foretold all that happened within it, and it’s through song that we have our most dramatic displays of magical power, both contained in the story of Beren and Lúthien - Finrod’s song battle with Sauron, and Lúthien declaring herself and her name and destroying Tol-in-Gaurhoth. We also see song referenced in Shelob’s lair, with Frodo invoking the name of Elbereth to spark the star-glass to life. I write so that if you’re gifted in the theory and the making of music, you can apply that specifically to magic. Blessed Hands - Lifeline has Endanáro feeling as though the songs he’s working with are alive, rising to meet his needs; this is because he’s spent centuries learning how to harness them and work with them, and he can craft what he requires as he goes. There are also set magical songs that anyone can learn that have more or less consistent effects, though they can be customized based on will and intent. Those two things matter more in Song than the actual tune - a familiar melody or leitmotif or entire song can be coopted to serve a particular purpose. The music is the medium, not the end, though invoking specific imageries or ideas can be effective if you (or the hypothetical Maia you’re dueling) has an emotional connection to what you’re singing about. Finrod falls before Sauron because the latter invokes Alqualondë, and reminds him of the Kinslaying, and basically cuts away his carefully-constructed facade to say “you’re not as cool as you think you are, you’re not as good as you think you are”, but there is also power in the tune itself. It’s an avenue for willpower, not a substitute for it.

Crafting is another medium for one’s will. We see this best in the Rings of Power, as well as the enchanted rope that Sam is given that comes when he calls. The elves of Lothlórien say that they put themselves into what they make, and while this could be interpreted as the average artist-speak talking about giving voice to emotion and passion, it’s also literally true in many cases - the Silmarils and the One Ring both are mentioned to have some semblance of sentience thanks to the influence of their crafter’s spirit. Most things that are made, though, only seem to be vessels for will and intent. They’re easier to work with than Song, and more stable, though I’d argue people like Elrond who are masters of both a magical object and the Music are easily the most powerful people on the battlefield at any time. The difference between a Song and a Ring is that the Ring acts as a focus and a prism, sort of - you don’t have to keep as close of a watch on what you want; it will do that for you. It also adds power and finesse to what you aim to do.

Innate power, meaning “if you’re at least part-Ainu you’re going to have a lot more of yourself to give over to your work”. I touched on this briefly too when I brought up how hobbits can vanish from sight, and there’s a short story Tolkien wrote that details how a Drúedain man enchanted a stone statue to defend the house of a Rohirric family with the implication that this is an entirely Drúedainic ability. Some races in Tolkien have race-specific gifts. That doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re powerless without them, but it is worth taking into account.

hopefully that answers things? wow this was long, sorry.

#replies #tolkien #absynthe’s meta #absynthe’s headcanons #stormxpadme #long post

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whmguidetoffxiv · 4 years ago

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A White Mage's Guide; The Armory Chest and Glamor Dresser

Your equipment is one of the most vital tools in your adventure. In FFXIV, this is where you get the majority of your stats and your protection. if you don't have gear that is strong enough, your ability in combat will suffer. But where do you keep it all? Why do you keep it all? Well, let's find out.

This is your Armory Chest; I've put it next to my current loadout for comparison. Each 'slot' in your armory chest can hold up to 35 of a particular item. (Editor's note; this will be changing with the expansion pack Endwalker, where Belts will be removed as an equipable item and more slots will be added to your main-hand weaponry.) When you 'sort' any particular category, it will start with the highest ilevel and work its way down.

What is iLevel, you ask? Excellent question!

iLevel is the strength of your equipment. I have two different hats here, equipable by the same class at the same level, but they have two different strengths. The Crystarium Turban of Healing has an iLevel of 490 and has slightly higher stats than the Weathered Ebers hood, which has an iLevel of 430. Note that the Materia melded to the turban stacks on top of the original stats. This is usually only noticeable at the end of an expansion pack or when you've hit the level cap, but you may encounter a raid or dungeon that won't let you in until your overall iLevel is high enough.

I've Circled it for convenience here. That's the 'mean' of all the iLevels of your equipment. A little trick about the stats of your equipment is that 'rare' items, ones with blue or green (or in the reaaaaly early game pink) have better stats than a crafted or 'grey' background one of the same level. These will hold out a bit longer in terms of leveling, but a rule of thumb is that your equipment should stay within 5 'equipable' levels of your own. So, if you're a level 45 White mage, your equipment should not be equipable at level 27. If you look at the comparison image of the two hats, they both say 'WHM, Lvl 80'. That means a White mage can only equip those at level 80.

This is important because, again, your equipment determines your stats. A Paladin wearing level 30 equipment is not going to be able to soak up as much damage as a Paladin wearing level 50 equipment, even if they are both level 50. Your gear will also stop giving stat buffs when it breaks, as indicated by the red/green bar to the left of each item. make sure to keep your gear in top shape!

As you wear your armor, you'll notice a second, blue bar next to it. This is your 'spiritbond' with your gear. When it hits max, you can right click the piece of armor and select 'extract materia' to get an extra bauble that will boost your stats even more. Again, this isn't as relevant in the early game because you'll be out-leveling your gear faster than you generate spiritbond. but come endgame, it's an easy way to generate materia.

If the idea of manually equipping your loadout every time you change class is daunting (and it should be) you can save your set to a 'gearset'. This will automatically equip whatever is saved to it, and is sorted by your main-hand weapon. (Blue circle) It will show the iLevel of the loadout, and if there is a glamour plate attached to it. (Which I will talk about later.) use the plus sign in the top left corner of the menu to add a new gear set.

The green circle is your 'recommended gear'. This is the easy button if you just got a whole slew of new equipment. It will automatically equip the best gear for your level, stats wise. (This is actually unhelpful regarding accessories at the early levels, because it will always prioritize your weathered accessories first. ) The yellow circle is your Glamour menu, which I will talk about next.

you've probably received an item like this at some point. it has no stats, and can be equipped at level one. This is a 'glamour' item; it's meant to be glammed on top of something else rather than worn as a piece of armor. to make the best use of these, use your Glamour Dresser.

You can find your glamour dresser and armoire in any inn room in the main cities. Unfortunately you can only put an armoire on private estates, not the glamour dresser. If you have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, you need to find the lady below, outside the Waking Sands in Eastern Thanalan.

She'll give you an easy pair of quests that teach you the bare basics of glamour prisms and dyes. Once you're ready to reach the True Endgame (Glamour) then grab a few pieces of armor you really like and some glamour prisms (easily attainable from your Grand company or the marketboard) and return to your glamour dresser.

To add items to your glamor dresser, select it from the menu on the right, which is your inventory/armory chest. you can swap between selecting something from your inventory, or from various parts of the Armory. WARNING: It WILL put something in the dresser even if it's attached to a gearset, so for ease of use put anything you want in your glamour dresser in your inventory first. Or risk fighting your mortal enemy in your Skivies.

The stuff of Nightmares, I'm sure.

Anyway, it will use one Glamour prism for every item you store in the dresser. The exception is items that can be stored in the armoire. These are almost exclusively Mogstation, special event or seasonal event items, Achievement rewards, and your level 45 job gear. If you try to put these in the glamour dresser instead, the game will tell you it can be stored in the armoire to save crystals and space; you can have 400 items max (across ALL categories) in your glamour dresser.

Once you're ready to create your look, click 'edit glamour plates' at the bottom of the brown menu to pull up your plates. You have 15 plates to design and trust me, they can go quickly. You can design to your hearts content and even preview dye colors for items that can be dyed; those will have a circle in the upper right hand corner of its icon.

Be aware that a high-level item cannot be glammed over a lower-level one, and armor belonging to one class or job cannot be glammed over armor of a different armor type. That's why the specialty items have an equipable level of one. There's even special items designed to be transparent; these can be bought from a vendor near the Waking Sands.

When you're done, click 'save' to save your plate, then open your character menu and click the glamour plates button to chose one of your new designs to glam over your equipment. Now you can fight your mortal enemy in your Skivies whilst having the protection of a tank.

Remember that gearset menu? If you right-click the gearset, you can change its order in the list, and attatch a glamour plate to it. This is handy when you have three jobs that wear the same armor, but you want different looks for each.

Just like your normal inventory, it's important to go through and clean out your Armory Chest and your Glamour Dresser once in a while. You may have forgotten to discard or sell a bracelet you no longer need, or a chestpiece that you were saving for when you leveled that second healing class, only to have outleveled it by the time you remembered you had it. This goes double for the rings, since you equip two per gearset but only have 35 slots.

That's all for now! Best of luck on your Journey through Eorzea, and remember; Glamour is the True Endgame.

#ffxiv #whmguidetoffxiv #armory chest #glamour #glamouristhetrueendgame #itemstats #equipment

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beaconsardis · 4 years ago

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The Last Kyber Crystal

After the mutiny on The Night Wind, Fordsy and I pack our bags -- well, pack my bags, and strike out on our own. Siom Lech, for all of his failings and frustrations, took care of his crew. In the six years I was on his crew, I didn't have to spend a credit that I didn't want to. He fed us, armed us, and would occasionally dress us. I am walking away from him with a very cozy some of money in the bank.

I buy a ship. Nothing special, nothing to brag about. Just a little junker, an old Imperial scout ship. I'm not looking for anything fancy, just something that can get me from one side of the galaxy to the other quickly. The sales droid is programmed with an overly enthusiastic personality and insists the ship needs a name.

A ship's name should speak to its place in the galaxy. It should speak of its purpose. It should be created, crafted with intention and care -- not at the insistence of pushy sales droid.

Mom wouldn't let me name the animals she bought. They were to be slaughtered and served to our patrons. If I named them, I'd get attached to them and wouldn't want to sauté them. I have no intention of keeping this ship. It's only here for, what I hope is, a very short chapter of my life.

But the droid won't process my credits until I give it a name so I half-heartedly put two words together. "Star . . . grazer."

"Stargrazer," repeats the droid. "Very good. May she serve you well, always taking you where you want to go, arriving in exactly the amount of pieces you want to arrive in."

"Why would I ever want to arrive anywhere in anything other than one piece?"

"I do not pretend to understand humans," the droid says, its tone chipper and overly enthusiastic. "Happy journeys!"

I place Oh Lin's holocron on the control console and I tell her my plan.

"I am going to finish fixing your lightsaber. When I found it, the emitter was broken and the crystal was shattered. I have fixed the emitter."

"Now all you require is a kyber crystal," Oh Lin nods understandingly. "I am afraid I cannot help you with that."

"Didn't you say you found your kyber crystal on Ilum?" I'm doing my pre-flight checks, shooting glances at the hologram of the Jedi Peacekeeper.

"Yes. Padawans and younglings are often taken to the caves of Ilum for to find a kyber crystal of their own." There's a touch of melancholy to her voice. "There, Professor Huyang would guide them in the creation of their lightsaber."

"Right, so-"

Oh Lin interrupts me, which she is not prone to do. "I will not be able to guide you to the caves. Nor will I be able to help you find a kyber crystal beyond what I have already told you. If the Force wills it, you will be shown the way and your crystal will call to you."

Fordsy plots our course and we're off.

It's been nearly four years since I found Oh Lin's holocron and lightsaber. For four years I've sat at the glowing, flickering feet of the Jedi, listening and asking questions. My understanding of the Force, and who I am, has grown in ways I never could have imagined. I've done everything I can to repair the lightsaber, and I think I very nearly have it, but kyber crystals aren't sold at markets. I've also not had the time or ability to venture off on my own to find one -- until today.

We drop out of hyperspace over Ilum. It's a large, ice-covered planet. What isn't covered in ice is covered in snow. A few rocky mountain ranges can be seen from orbit, but the marble is mostly a cloudy mix of whites. A big, thick gouge wrapping around its equator.

I let out a low whistle. It's clearly not a naturally formed chasm. It yawns open like a gaping wound.

"According to records," Fordsy reports, "after the fall of the Old Republic, the Galactic Empire occupied the planet and excavated it for its vast supply of crystalline -- the kyber crystals."

"Why?" I wonder aloud.

"The crystals were what powered the Death Stars' weapons."

I chill goes down my spine.

"The overmining of Ilum caused its core to crack open into the canyon you see before you now."

"Well," I take control of the ship, "let's see if they left us any."

I close my eyes. I listen. I wait. I feel the current of the Force and I surrender myself to its flow. In the vague distance, I can hear the servos inside of Fordsy whirring. I can tell he's looking back and forth between me and the windscreen. I keep our ship in the Force's soft tide, flying us over the frozen wastelands and forests. The Force is pulling me somewhere. I begin to feel it pool. It swirls and pulls me down.

Only then do I open my eyes. The Force has brought me to edge of a forest and the foot of a mountain. I spot a clearing and set down.

I knew we were headed for Ilum. I knew Ilum is an ice cube masquerading as a planet. One would think I would prepare for this by packing warm, winter clothes. I did not.

I fasten my duster shut and step down into the snow. I may as well not be wearing a jacket for how quickly and completely the cold cuts through me. The wind is sharp and unrelenting.

"Do you feel that?"

"You know I cannot." Fordsy replies, exasperated. "I am, however, equipped with a thermal scanner and thermometer, if you'd like to know-"

"No, no." My hands are tucked into my armpits to stave off frostbite. I don't know if it's actually cold enough for frostbite. I have almost no experience with snow. What I do know is, "this doesn't feel natural."

"What do you mean?"

"It feels like," I squint, "like the planet doesn't want us here."

"There is no recorded evidence," Fordsy pauses to admit, "that I have found, to suggest the planet is sentient."

"No," I correct myself, "it's not the planet . . . it's something else. A presence, a . . ." I smile as I realize, "Force."

It's lurking beneath the surface and behind the wind. It's hurt, wounded. Something bad, something wicked, has happened here. It wants me to leave. It's pushing me and I am tempted to listen to it. But then something small reaches out. Something tiny, something hopeful.

I have to block out the noise. I have to ignore the cold. I have to tune my senses to it and nothing else.

There's a pulse, a heartbeat. Each one microscopically smaller than the last. It's here, it wants to be seen, but it's dying.

It's not coming from the mountains or the caves, it's coming from the forest. I turn towards the trees. I cannot understand how they live in this climate. They're skeletal and dark, without a single leaf on them. And yet, I can feel the Force flowing through them. They live.

The snow crunches beneath my feet as I weave through the forest. The wind can't quite reach me here, but it's trying. An occasional gust stabs with an unseen icicle.

"I know this is important to you," Fordsy says from behind, "but how much further are we going to go? My joints are freezing over and I can't imagine you'll make it much longer."

I know he's right but I refuse to admit it. I'm supposed to be here. I know I am. I've been called here, pulled here. I can't turn back. I can't leave. Or maybe I'm just fooling myself. Maybe I want this so badly that I've convinced myself of this fantasy. I'm about to say something when I see something.

There's something in the woods. I can barely see its shape through the fine fog the snow has created. It's moving slowly, purposefully. Each step is a struggle, though. It's shaking and wobbling.

"Hey!" I call. "Hey you!"

It stops and turns, its movement jittery. It's a droid, a humanoid droid. It stands at a slouch and looks like the next stiff breeze is going to knock it over. Its yellow eyes iris, as if to squint, as it tries to focus on me. It moves like an old man, waving me away as it turns back to its path.

I trudge through the snow; catching up to it isn't hard. "Hey," I say again, "do you think you could help me?"

"No," says the droid, "probably not." Its voice is old and tinny, creaking in a way that makes me think a voice can gather rust. "Can't imagine what . . . what . . ." The droid straightens up to stand taller. "Can't imagine what . . ." Its head swivels around in a complete circle. "Can't remember where . . ."

"Its on its last cycle," Fordsy says. "Show it some kindness and shut it down, so it can stop whirring and worrying and finally rest."

If the droid heard Fordsy, it makes no indication of it. The faded yellow droid is more even more hunched over as it marches away from us. "Follow me," it says weakly, "let's get you out of the cold."

Fordsy doesn't want to, but something pushes me forward. I follow in the droid's footsteps. He leads us to a -- I'm not sure the word for it -- if it were a forest, I would say it's a clearing. But it's at the foot of the mountain, a natural semi-circle where the mountain didn't form and the rocks didn't fall. It doesn't stop the snow from falling on us, but it protects us from the wind.

This is where this droid has been living. There's a power generator between two rocks and a couple other pieces of equipment -- I spot a scanner -- strewn about the rocky enclave.

Enclave? Is that the word I'm looking for? Or is it conclave? No. You can have a conclave in an enclave but an enclave is not a conclave.

"So what brings you here?" The droid sits down. It plucks a cord up out of the snow, brushes it off, and inserts it into an open panel on its chest. Behind us, the power generator whirrs to life.

"I'm looking for a kyber crystal."

"Well you're too late," the droid says sadly. "The Emperor . . . may he rust in pieces . . . has already gutted the planet . . . nary a crystal left."

"Oh," I feel myself slump. Disappointment chokes me as I try to breathe. I try to see a way around this. I try to imagine another route to completing my lightsaber. But right now, all I can see is this immovable rock wall.

"What do you need a kyber crystal for?" The droid turns curiously. "Not much call for those these days."

I reach into my long coat and unclip the lightsaber from my belt. The lightsaber shines as I hold it out. Even on this overcast day, it reflects the sun, dancing silver and gold prisms across the snow. The droid sits up straight, as if activated for the first time.

"Where did you get that," the droid asks. "I know that lightsaber. That is not your lightsaber. That lightsaber belongs to the great Jedi Peacekeeper Oh Lin."

"What?" If I hadn't been sitting, I would have stumbled back. "How do you know that?"

"I know every lightsaber I helped craft." The droid takes the lightsaber from me. It deftly disassembles it, inspecting every part and every mechanism as it does. Finding the kyber chamber empty, the droid nods and reassembles the saber.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"I might be asking you the same question," the droid returns.

"I asked first."

"I am Huyang," the droid says, "and for over a thousand generations I helped padawans and younglings on their way to becoming Jedi Knights. Together, we would find their crystals and together we would build their lightsaber. I remember this lightsaber. I remember when Oh Lin came to me, just a wee thing. She was full of wonder and curiosity. It's no wonder her crystal was blue." The droid turns its attention back to me. "And so I ask you again: How did you come by this?"

I tell Huyang my story. I hold nothing back. I start from the beginning, with the strange feelings I would get as a child and how they led me to Oh Lin's destroyed starship. I tell him about the holocron and how I fixed the lightsaber. Huyang nods along, listening intently.

"So you are a Jedi in the making . . ." Huyang says, "but with no formal training and no teacher. A lightsaber is a very dangerous thing in unskilled hands."

"But-"

"But," the droid holds up a hand, "it is not my place to judge who the Force chooses. And if the Force brought you here and to me, then it is for a reason."

I suddenly realize the droid has four arms, the two in the front most humanoids have, and then two smaller ones high on its back that fold in on themselves. One of those smaller hands plucks something out of a compartment in the droid's back and hands it to Huyang's right, front hand.

"If the Force wants you to have this," Huyang holds up a small, dark sliver of a crystal. "Then it is yours. But! It is useless, just another shiny rock, if you can't awaken it."

The droid places the dark crystal in my hand. It's lighter than I was expecting. "Awaken it?"

"Yes."

I can hear the smile in Huyang's voice. This is all the help I'm going to get. The professor here might have helped thousands of generations before me, but the last couple of decades have made the droid wary.

I roll the kyber crystal in the palm of my hand. I feel its smoothness and its sharp edges. I feel its potential.

I feel its life.

I've never felt a rock like this before. Rocks are connected to the Force, but I've never felt one that seems to be emanating the Force. Its inside it, desperate to break free, but need someone to reach in and pull it out.

I see the crystal in my mind. I search its every surface, feeling for cracks or weaknesses, anything to let me inside. I see something else. I see a stalactite made of ice. I feel a warm current of air swirl around it. A single drop of water forms at the tip of the stalactite. It grows larger and larger until it can no longer hold on. It falls, breaking the surface of a pond below, sending ripples spreading out over the entire body of water.

"Ah," I hear.

I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them. The crystal is no longer dark, its heart no longer muddy. It glows and shines in my hand a vibrant yellow.

"I wondered whose kyber crystal I was carrying," Huyang says. "Turns out its yours. And yellow? That's a color you don't see every day."

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"That's for you to decide." Huyang says. "Every lightsaber is unique and gains something of a reputation and legacy of its own."

I slide the crystal into the hilt of my lightsaber. I flip the switch. I've fiddled with the switch thousands of times, often unconsciously moving it back and forth between the on and off position as I've sat there, fidgeting. This is the first time, though, turning on my lightsaber it worked.

With a snap-hiss, a yellow blade slides out of the hilt and for the second time in my life, I feel as though I have finally found where I belong.

The blade hums and then sizzles as snowflakes fall on it.

"Use it well," Huyan says, "the Force is with you. Listen to it and it will never lead you astray."

#Fordsy #Stargrazer #kyber crystal #Ilum #Gonna Be a Pilot #A Voice in the Snow #Tales of a Jedi #Learn About The Force #24 ABY

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Dialect Coaches on Actors and the Best and Worst Accents

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Congruity is important in fiction. Trust and verisimilitude are the first casualties when breaches of the unspoken contract between creator and audience occur. Each of us has our own limits on what we’re prepared to accept before that crucial tipping point is reached and our minds unmoor from a piece of fiction. Although we understand that show-runners and directors will sometimes bend reality or sacrifice elements of the truth or historical record in the pursuit of spectacle or entertainment, some things are sacrosanct.

Arguably our ears are the fiercest arbiters of truth. These days, botched accents or dialects in entertainment vehicles are the elements most likely to trigger flash-bangs of furious incredulity, and offend cultural sensibilities (especially now that we’re past the era of casting people in serious dramatic roles out-with their own ethnicities). Though the 1995 movie Braveheart was rife with historical inaccuracies – akin to Abraham Lincoln teaming up with Grover Cleveland to fight WWII alongside Arnold Schwarzenegger – it retained a plausible and satisfying emotional core in the hearts of most Scots largely thanks to Mel Gibson putting on an eminently passable, forgivably imperfect Scottish accent. That wouldn’t have been the case had he sounded like Christopher Lambert or Pee Wee Herman.

So accents are important. They strike at the truth of who we are, where we’re from and where we’re going. It follows then that the gate-keepers of the human voice – the vocal coaches and dialect specialists that lend their expertise to the entertainment industry – perform a vital function that transcends mere entertainment. Den of Geek spoke to three of them, to get a flavor of the work they do, the professional choices they make, the role they see themselves playing, their views on the industry, and their take on the issues of the day filtered through the prism of their profession.

Nic Redman is a well-known and knowledgeable vocal coach and voice actor who hails from Northern Ireland, but now lives and works in the north of England; her coaching helps regular folks, commercial clients and famous faces alike.

Paul Meier is a voice coach, actor, professor, Shakespeare enthusiast, theatre director and archivist of dialects who made the leap from the southern UK to the mid-western US in 1978, bringing with him a wealth of expertise.

Joy Lanceta Coronel is a Kentucky-born, NY-based dialectal wunderkind, who, as well as being an eminently qualified voice and acting coach, conducts research into Asian identity and cultural representation, particularly those aspects that intersect with her profession.

Of course you can’t have three voice coaches on hand without first asking them their opinion on the worst and best examples of accents in TV and film.

Music to your ears

Let’s start with the best.

Nic singles out Jodie Comer in Killing Eve. “I’d seen her in one other thing, and she spoke in Received Pronunciation (RP) – like a standard, southern English sound – and I just assumed she spoke RP. And then I saw Killing Eve, and I was like, ‘Wow, she’s good at accents’. And then I heard her in an interview, and I’m like, ‘You are kidding me’. Because she’s a proper Scouser, like [from Liverpool, England]. And unabashedly, unashamed, wearing it proudly, as everyone with a regional accent should.”

Paul’s pick is Meryl Streep in The Iron Lady. “I’ve never seen a better impersonation. She transcended impersonation and totally got the accent, but it was a brilliant impersonation as well. I did a podcast with the dialect coach on The Iron Lady, Jill McCullough, and Jill just sat in the corner twiddling her thumbs while Meryl Streep worked her magic.”

Joy is also quick to laud Meryl Streep, particularly her performance in Sophie’s Choice. She also gives special mentions to Renee Zellweger in the first Bridget Jones’s Diary, and Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood. When it comes to picking the worst examples of the craft, Joy favours diplomacy over dirt-slinging. “Ah this question is so nuanced because I’d hate to call people out on something that might have been the result of so many different variables. There are several instances when a coach might not have as much time with the actor for them to fully inhabit the accent. You also have to factor in that an actor might not be very familiar with an accent, and oftentimes it makes it more difficult for them to take on the sounds if it is difficult for them to hear them in the first place.”

Luckily for us and our salacious appetites, Nic and Paul have no such reservations. “I really want to give shout outs to Gerard Butler in P.S. I Love You,” says Nic. “As an Irish person I found that pretty horrific. Keanu Reeves in Dracula, Don Cheadle in Ocean’s Eleven. And, then, just a couple of shout-outs for some ladies. Anne Hathaway in One Day. I know she tried really hard. I married a Yorkshireman so I think I’m a bit more sensitive to that one. And Mischa Barton in St Trinians.”

Paul goes with something of an old classic from the accent hall of horrors: Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins. He follows up his choice with a salient point: “I did a podcast with my son, who is a movie critic, talking about best and worst. I found myself saying that Dick Van Dyke was so utterly charming in the role of Bert the chimney sweep, that despite his egregious cockney accent, you would say, ‘But this is how Bert speaks. This is Dick Van Dyke’s Bert’s cockney’, and it’s almost become institutional now, even though it’s a really bad cockney.”

You could say the same of Karl Urban’s accent in The Boys. Butcher is supposed to be from London, but his accent is a hotchpotch that takes in the antipodes via South Africa. Again, though, the character, and Urban’s portrayal, is such a powerhouse that you stop caring. Perhaps we make allowances for bad accents by great actors just so long as the place they’re evoking isn’t an integral part of their character’s make-up; or that the character isn’t intended as a vessel to speak for, or about, people from that place.

Do the coaches agree that many actors from the US seem to struggle with UK accents in general, and London accents in particular?

“The thing about Americans encountering British accents,” says Nic, “is they have two representations of what we sound like: Downton Abbey and anything by Guy Ritchie. English or Cockney. You’d think that would help them be specific, but I think they really struggle with it because it shares a lot with Australian as well, for very specific historical reasons, and I think they flip stuff around and get a bit confused.”

Paul believes that US actors struggle with some UK accents mainly for social reasons. “Brits and Australians are better at American accents than vice versa. And it’s not because of any innate ability. It’s just because Americans tend to be more insular. American English is the global language, very few Americans have passports, they don’t travel. It’s a big country, very self-sufficient. And so for these social, socio-linguistic reasons, Americans don’t tend to be as good at accents.”

Sometimes, says Nic, we the audience will not have been privy to the decisions made on the modelling of a character’s accent – their background, their idiolect – and thus can judge a performance unfairly. “That’s how I felt about Elizabeth Moss in Top of the Lake. She got a lot of flak for her accent, but I loved the performance so much, and she was a person from a place living in a different place, so there were going to be influences from that side, so maybe she made a conscious decision to do it that way.”

A Day in the Life

How, then, does a voice coach operate? How do they assist performers? And what’s in their toolkit? Joy clues us in:

“Sometimes I get pulled in at the last minute and I have to work with an actor who has already spent time with the script without my guidance, so those instances can be challenging,” she says. “What I do enjoy is that I get one-on-one time with the actors, so it is an intimate process. I shape my sessions based on different variables: how much time I have with them; how familiar they are with the accent or dialect, how difficult the accent or dialect is, what kind of space we are working in. It’s usually a conversation that triangulates between director, actor, and coach. If possible, I try to find an audio sample of a person who meets the criteria we discussed, and we work from those audio samples. Using a real speaker as a model is the best way to humanize the work.”

What about those rare cases where a play, movie or TV show is set in a non-English-speaking country, yet casts English-speaking actors as natives, and has them speak in English? The examples that spring to mind are the TV mini-series Chernobyl and the movie The Death of Stalin. Do voice coaches have any opinion of, or involvement with, those scenarios? Paul takes the mantle:

“If you start with the idea of a Chekhov play; all of those characters are speaking Russian to each other, and we, simply for our own convenience, are speaking a translation into English, so does it make any sense to play your Chekhov characters with a Russian accent? Not really. Because they’re not speaking a language other than their own, their first language, so why would they get it wrong? If you have a play or a film where the Russian character is speaking English, then it wouldn’t make sense not to give him a Russian accent. And then I think of exceptions, like [the movie] Chocolat. All of those characters were speaking French to each other. We, simply for our own convenience, hear them in English. And yet the director and the dialect coach very astutely gave a very slight French accent colouration to the film. And I thought it helped. It put me in that little French village.”

Authenticity and avoiding stereotypes

Authenticity clearly plays an integral role in both the coaching process and ethos. This article has so far concentrated on those dialects that predominate within the English-speaking world, but what of the importance of ensuring the authenticity of accents from other parts of the world; countries and continents whose languages and cultures may well have become an integral, though still too often marginalised, part of the shared experience of living in the US or Europe?

“I can speak from the work I’ve done in the past with accents such as Thai, Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese and Korean,” says New York-based Joy. “These East Asian accents have a long history of stereotyping, mimicry, and caricature and it has hurt these communities. So, for that reason, it is all the more important to add as much authenticity and humanity to the accent and frame the accent through the lens of a real human being, and not just the stereotypes that were so often seen in TV, film, and stage. Studies show that most Americans don’t know a lot about Asian culture, much less the nuanced sounds of each language. It’s just not something Americans have paid attention to because of racist portrayals and phrases like ‘Ching chong chang.’ I feel a great deal of responsibility for showcasing these languages authentically, and it is my hope that audiences will begin to recognize these sounds and hear the drastic differences among East Asian languages, so that we can slowly veer away from our problematic past.”

The issue of representation within the entertainment industry, which dovetails with notions of authenticity, gained prominence during last year’s Black Lives Matters protests, and put a lot of hitherto accepted (sometimes only grudgingly) conventions under the spotlight. Animated shows like Big Mouth, Family Guy and The Simpsons were forced to reckon with the new paradigm by recasting, or un-casting, white actors who had been portraying POC. What do the coaches think about representation in this context, and where would they weigh in on versatility versus verisimilitude?

Paul, whose life and work have straddled seven decades, responds with intellectual honesty and a sprinkling of Devil’s Advocate: “I have two takes on that really. One is that it’s a shame if you take any work away from an actor. Actors, that’s what they do: they impersonate everybody, without politics, without judgement, and it seems a shame in the world of infinite imagination to deprive anybody of the ability to impersonate or play any role. To me, it depends upon the spirit in which the thing is done. Take the role of Godbole in A Passage to India, played by Sir Alec Guinness. If we made the film today, of course we would cast Indian actors, but was Alec Guinness derogating or mocking India when he played that? No, he did a sterling job, with total respect for the culture. And then, you look on the other side of it. There’s an employment theme: why would you want to – with so many great African American actors – why on earth would you want to cast a white person to do that – unless there is some sort of exceptional necessity in that casting?”

Nic is slightly more unequivocal. “Yes, every actor can potentially play whatever they want and whoever they want, but it’s not about whether they can at the moment, it’s about whether they should. And we all have a responsibility in many ways in life right now to open up the doors to some of the more under-represented ethnicities and cultures. I feel that the only way I can responsibly be a coach in the current climate is to – if anything comes along that I feel could be coached by somebody of a more appropriate ethnic background, then I’ll pass that along. And that’s a no-brainer.”

Nic still has to grapple with and practice even those accents she couldn’t in all good conscience tutor someone to speak. “It’s important for me to understand how those accents work because I may get someone of that ethnic background coming to me wanting a different accent. Everybody starts at an accent from a different place, because everyone’s accent articulation patterns are different. So, for me, I may say the ‘ow’ sound as in the word mouth. I know I have to drop my tongue, because the northern Irish accent has more of a high tongue position. If I was teaching that ‘ow’ vowel to someone who wasn’t northern Irish, I’d have to understand where their tongue position may be. I can’t say to everybody, ‘Oh, for this sound you need to lower your tongue,’ because they might not need to lower their tongue. They might need to raise, flatten or loosen their tongue. So it’s not one-size fits all. It’s part of my job to look into these histories and cultures, and understand how these sounds work and feel.”

Joy picks up the question of representation as it relates to The Simpsons and other animated shows, and examines it all through a wide cultural lens. “I appreciate the movement to re-cast these roles. There is no justification for characters like Apu and Doctor Hibbert being voiced by white actors, and it’s something I’ve opposed for a long time. It simply perpetuates stereotypes and caricatures. And there’s no justification because there are a multitude of actors who could have voiced these characters, and who could have embodied the racial, linguistic, and ethnic background of these characters. BIPOC actors already have limited opportunities as a result of limited stories on BIPOC, so why deprive them of the opportunity? In addition to perpetuating colonialism mentality, white characters voicing Indian, American and Black characters completely ignores the history of Blackface, Brownface, and minstrel performances, all of which were racist practices meant to mimic and inaccurately portray these communities through humor.”

In closing: with whom were the trio most proud of working; who was the actor or person who shone the brightest under or alongside them? Paul plumps for Tobey Maguire, Joy for BD Wong, actors they lavish with praise. Nic takes a different approach, declining to name anyone specific. “I’m most proud of the clients who come and commit to the work – and they come back as much as they need, as they can afford, as they want, and they make genuine improvement, and it has a genuine impact on their life and their career. That’s the amazing kind of thing about this job. With the right attitude, and enough time and money I think anybody can learn an accent… but that’s a Holy Trinity that doesn’t always come together.”

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Please tell us your picks for the best and worst accents in film and TV in the comments below. Also, there are links to our interviewees should you wish to enlist their services, or are curious about their work.

Paul Meier – Dialect Services www.paulmeier.com

Nic Redman – Voice Coach and Accent Specialist Nicredmanvoice.com

Joy Lanceta Coronel – Speech, Dialect and Communication Coach joylanceta.com

The post Dialect Coaches on Actors and the Best and Worst Accents appeared first on Den of Geek.

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wallpaperpainter · 5 years ago

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dallasz2020-blog · 5 years ago

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Experts all over the world agree that water can be restructured, or "informed" in many different ways. One of these ways is using vibrations. Like in a microwave: Put a glass with water in a running microwave for some time and it will begin to boil. The microwave shoots waves at the water molecules that causes them to vibrate. Everything that emits vibrations can influence water. A very natural and subtle source of radiation are gems (or crystals). People have been using gems to infuse their drinking water for thousands of years. The ancient Greek did it and wise men and women in the Middle Ages. Of course they couldn't understand the scientific process but they realized, it changed something in their water. Something they could feel and taste. Over the time, they studied the effects of this "gem water" and developed a tradition called "crystal healing". How do I use my gem vial properly? Preparing Gem-Water with a gem vial is easy: Simply place your gem vial inside one of our water decanters, fill it up with regular drinking water and wait for 7 – 10 minutes. That's all it takes! Does gem water taste different than regular water? Almost all of our customers report a difference in taste between regular drinking water and gem-water. Even the different gem blends are reported to taste different. The difference is often perceived as very subtle, as a change in the texture of the water. Try for yourself! What are ViA bottles made of? Is it safe? ViA’s body is made of pollutant-free glass. The lids are made of stainless steel and a non-toxic, BPA free polymer component with silicone washers to keep the bottle leak-proof. How do I clean my crystal water bottle? Is it dishwasher safe? ViA is easy to clean, Our vial and gem-water pods that are at the bottom of our gem-water bottle are NOT dishwasher-safe. Detach the gem pod from the bottle, unscrew the glass part with the stones from the lid, take the silicone washer out and clean everything thoroughly with a mild detergent. Rinse it well, and let it airdry overnight. Same with the top lid: Take out the washer, rinse it with a mild detergent, rinse it really good and let it airdry. You can put the glass cylinder in the dishwasher. How do the gems affect the water although they are sealed inside the glass vial? Gems have a very subtle electromagnetic vibration that changes the water’s structure.It's a common misunderstanding that crystal water or gem-water is made in a process that includes minerals dissolving in water. You actually DON'T want to have a physical component from gems / crystals dissolving in your water as it could be toxic if you do not know where your gems are from or if they are treated. Gem-water is made by the subtle radiation of the gems. As you know from sun rays, magnetic rays or microwaves, radiation waves pass through glass. That's the same with the gems' radiation. Is there proof that the gems change the properties of water? Water is life! There's no other substance on earth that has a greater influence on our wellbeing than water. If you begin to engage yourself with the mysteries of water, you'll very soon come across one name: Dr. Masaru Emoto. No present-day scientist has studied the true nature of water more intensely than the late Japanese researcher and author of the New York Times bestseller “The Hidden Messages in Water.” Crystal images by Dr. Emoto‘s laboratory verified that water treated with VitaJuwel gem vials regains its original, natural energy and thus is comparable to fresh spring water. Also, German scientists have measured an improvement in water treated with gem vials, stating: “With crystal water bottle, drinking water reaches a quality level otherwise only found in natural spring water.“ What do I do if my gemstone vial gets damaged? Before every use of crystal water bottle, make sure your gem vial is free of any damage. If it has cracks or other damage, STOP USAGE immediately. Damaged vials and pods are not safe for usage and may cause physical harm. If you have swallowed any pieces from your product SEEK IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ATTENTION! Why do the stones in my ViA bottle look a little different than on a picture I saw? Gems and crystals are unique like everyone of us. They are age-old natural products and therefore may vary in size, shape and color so your vial or gem-water bottle will not look exactly like another and every piece is one-of-a-kind! Can I change the gems inside my gem vial? Our gem vials and pods are sealed. Therefore it's not possible to change the blend after it production. Experience has shown that the most hygienic way to prepare gem-water is using sealed vials. We currently offer vials with 20 distinctive blends of gems, following age-old traditions and "recipes".

#crystalwaterbottlecrystalbottlecrystalelixirwaterbottlecrystalinfusedwaterbottlegemwaterbottlerosequartzwaterbottleamethystcrystalwaterbottl

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lovelawactually · 7 years ago

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Heart...less

Bepo burst through the doorway followed closely by Penguin and Shachi - the bear’s breathing was labored. “Captain, I…” His eyes widened at the sight of his Captain standing over the strange woman - a heart in his hand. “What?! Who is she?!” He bowed his head as Law’s eyebrows knit together - Bepo realized he was asking too many questions again. “Sorry.”

Law did not take his eyes off the woman. “Bepo - what were you going to say?”

“Sorry, Captain. I got a location on the craft that was…” Bepo’s speech trailed off as he locked onto the eyes of the woman on the ground. Penguin and Shachi peeked around Bepo’s large frame to get a better look for themselves. Their eyes lit up - cheeks tinted pink. “Is that who was following us?”

“Yes.“ Law paused - the woman’s eyes shifted between each of them - observing them closely. "You three go wake up Franky and get that ship secured.”

“Aye, Captain!” Bepo turned and head down the hallway toward the sleeping quarters without question - Penguin and Shachi jammed their hands into their pockets, grumbling under their breath at how the Captain never let them do any of the fun stuff.

Law turned his head slightly - glaring at the pair out of the corner of his eye. "It was not a request.” He turned his full attention back to the woman lying on the floor - he gave the heart in his hand a hard squeeze. “Get on your feet.”

The woman inhaled sharply, stifling the groan that built in her throat. She pushed down the pain, and attempted to steady her breathing. Her face was devoid of any trace of the pain she felt - it held no indication as to what she was thinking either. Her eyes told a different story - they were full of rage - utter contempt for the man who had now held her captive. Her mind raced trying to devise a strategy to retrieve her heart and escape. This was certainly not what she had planned. She knew that she was at a severe disadvantage against the two men that remained. She stood up to her full height, facing Law - her legs wobbly beneath her. She would not cower in fear, nor would she let him see any fear or pain - her pride would not allow it, and she did not want to give him the satisfaction.

“Zoro-ya, I think I can handle this. If you would check in with Franky, that would be appreciated.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow and turned to head toward the outer hatch of the submarine. With a wave he announced, “I am stopping for sake first.”

Law smirked and shook his head - no matter how much time passed, Zoro’s ability to imbibe alcohol at the rate he did and still function, still amazed him. Law turned his full attention back to his prisoner - he pointed his sheathed nodachi toward the doorway behind the woman. “Walk.” The woman begrudgingly complied, her back as straight as she could manage in her condition - her footsteps were slow and deliberate - her head held high. As the pair walked, Law thought of just what he was going to do to get the woman to talk - a devilish grin spread across his face as the door came into view. “The door. Open it.”

The woman stood defiantly still, not even turning to look in Law’s direction. “Open it yourself.”

“You do not seem to understand how this works. Let me make things clear - ” The grip Law had on the woman’s heart tightened once more - she choked and stumbled, her hand clutched at her chest. “Now - open the door.” Law released the hold he had on the woman’s heart - she gasped, the pain that wracked her chest subsiding. She reached for the door with a shaky hand and opened it.

Law nudged the woman into the room - inside was a large metal chair with wrist and leg restraints - along the back wall was a metal table, covered with various medical instruments and tools. It was cold and smelled of antiseptic solution. “Sit in the chair - and put on the restraints.”

The woman did as instructed, and moved slowly toward the chair. Her chest still ached from her last act of defiance. She knew that she would scream out in pain if her heart were to be constricted again. As she turned to sit, she noticed Law step into the room out of the corner of her eye - he turned his back to her slightly to lock the door. Law turned back toward woman, who he expected to be in a more yielding state of mind - the woman launched herself at him, hitting him in the chest with her shoulder and knocking him into the wall. The impact sent the woman’s heart flying from Law’s hand and onto the floor. The woman scrambled to grab it - she thought that once she had it, she would be able to fight her captor properly. She noted the need to be wary of being caught by the same maneuver again, should her plan prove successful.

“Room.” The light of the room was tinted blue. “Takt.” Law threw the woman against the wall, and advanced on her. He placed his forearm against her throat, his nose inches from hers. His amber eyes were dark and narrowed, and bored into her - like a predator about to eat his prey. She glared back at him - Law knew she would not be tamed easily. He moved his face closer to hers. “I have no attachment to that heart of yours. Do not think I need it to get what I want from you.” His voice was muted - the effect that his voice and facial expression had - made him more frightening. “You would do well to obey me.” Law picked up the woman and roughly sat her in the chair. “Put on the restraints.”

The woman’s eyes were full of disdain as she fastened the restraints around her wrist and ankles. She glanced quickly around the room, searching for her disembodied heart - she would need to come up with a new plan. She felt the strength being drained from her body. “Sea Prism? You son of a bitch….”

Law retrieved the woman’s heart and placed it in a stainless steel container that sat on a rolling cart with other various containers of the same shape and size, and pulled it into view of the woman. He rolled a round stool in front of the chair and sat with his arms crossed, studying her in silence. She needed a cool down period - the sea prism restraints would help with that somewhat. Law quietly observed her attempts to stay mentally alert, even as her body began to not be able to properly respond. He watched intently as her eyes darted around the room - finding things to focus on. Her gaze lingered on his hands - the tattooed letters that adorned his fingers and thumbs. A satisfied smirk crossed Law’s lips as the look on the woman’s face transformed - her conviction had given way to dismay.

The woman noticed the change in Law’s demeanor, her words conveyed the disgust she felt. “You get off on this shit, don’t you? If you are going to torture me - do your worst.”

Law slid the stool closer to the woman, and leaned forward. “My worst? This is simply - foreplay. Whether you see my worst, is up to you.” The woman’s eyes widened - Law was unable to discern whether she was truly afraid - or if she had simply changed her tactics. He backed away slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know who I am, correct?” The woman nodded, “Correct.”

“Tell me your name.” The woman steeled herself for what she imagined would come. “No.”

Law’s tone was clinical - his gaze was piercing. “This space is essentially an operating room. I will start removing pieces of you until you have answered my questions. You will not be given anesthesia, so you will feel every moment of it.”

The woman’s eyes shot open. “What?”

Law arched an eyebrow. “Now that you understand - tell me your name.”

“No.”

Law pointed his index and middle fingers toward the woman’s abdomen - the woman screamed at the sudden onset of pain. As his fingers worked, she fought a losing battle to stifle her screams. The motions he made with his hand stopped - a bloody mass was deposited into a stainless steel container on the cart nearby. “That was your appendix. Unnecessary, and potentially troublesome.”

The woman panted, the pain causing tears to well into her eyes. She could not give him the satisfaction of seeing her that way - she lowered her head, using her hood to hide her face. When she spoke, her voice betrayed her. “Why are you doing this?”

Law answered very matter-of-factly, “You were following me. When you were confronted, you attacked us. I have questions, which you refuse to answer.”

The woman inhaled deeply to quell the pain and steeled herself once again. “You will only end up killing me once you get what you want anyway. What’s the point?”

“I have no intention of killing you - I cannot get what I want if you are dead. You are the one who decided to make this difficult.”

The woman raised her head. She searched the cold amber eyes in front of her for some shed of humanity. Some sign that the man was not deceiving her, and all he wanted was information. She decided to herself she had nothing else to lose. “My name is Yashima Tori.”

“Tori-ya.” Law leaned closer, his elbows on his thighs - hands clasped together - he did not break eye contact. “What is the name of your Devil Fruit power?”

“Calm-Calm Fruit.”

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #one piece fanfiction #my oc #one piece oc #heart pirates #yashimatori

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inyri · 8 years ago

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Equivalent Exchange (an SWTOR story): Chapter 22- Risk/Reward

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E (this chapter: M) Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

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Chapter Twenty-Two: Risk/Reward

16 ATC. Yavin IV.

I could tell something was bothering you that night, although I thought you were just worried about the mission. Lana takes a sip of water. Even trying to sleep, you were restless-

Were you trying to read off me?

Not deliberately. You know I wouldn’t. But you were only a few meters away. She shrugs, a silent apology. In a crowd it gets lost in the chaos, but in the middle of the night it was like trying to tune out a siren.

Nine crinkles her nose, lifting her hands to smooth a few strands of loose hair out of her eyes. She’s got no frame of reference for that kind of ability, but she’s had to sleep through plenty of sirens. Rather rude of me.

You had plenty of reasons. Several more than I realized at the time, certainly. I thought that was an odd thing for Marr to say, but- with a frown and a shake of her head, Lana looks away, staring at the strip of floor between the couch and the low table. Theron was right. That was a deep cut, and none of us said anything at all.

I don’t blame you. Back then it was rather like two people running from a rancor, wasn’t it- dealing with the Dark Council?

How so?

Sitting forward, she moves her fingers along the tabletop, two sets of little finger-puppet legs side by side. You don’t have to be faster than the rancor. You only have to be faster- her hands colliding, now, the right sending the left puppet-runner sprawling and then, clawlike, pinning it down- than the other person.

I-

I know.

***

It would figure that the temple has a literal killswitch.

Every time she thinks she’s got this place figured out it throws her for another loop. Secrets on top of secrets- a Sith device, of course; only the Sith would have crafted a tool to slaughter a planet wholesale and simply left it, intact, waiting to be found.

The first round of locks was hard enough. There were so many Massassi atop the temple ruins that it took her hours longer than it should have, waiting silently for lulls between patrol groups to dart in and activate each lock. How had the Revanites not figured out the devices by now? There’s nothing to them at all, a simple touch from an ungloved hand enough to set each one alight with a sickly purple glow.

Revan really must not know what they are.

By the end of the day she’s exhausted and it’s too dangerous to camp alone this far afield so she heads back into base; their meeting that night, at least, is mercifully short. She sleeps like shit that night, too, staring at the tent roof for hours punctuated by nightmares of Hunter whenever she manages to will herself unconscious.

The next morning she can barely keep her eyes open.

She’s got to finish this- it’s on her, for better or worse, and she doesn’t have a choice. If Revan gets there first, figures out the locks’ locations and mechanisms before they do, it won’t matter whether he can actually can raise the Emperor or not. None of them will live to see it.

Still, it seems ill-advised.

She gnaws on the corner of a ration bar, an adrenal stim already vibrating through her veins while she calibrates her stealth generator and gives the rest of her equipment a brief once-over. Rifle, vibroblade, darts, kolto autoinjectors, extraction beacon-

“Lot of kit for a one-person op.” Theron’s rounding the corner from the Republic infirmary, looking uncharacteristically cheerful. “You up for a field partner today?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” That grin can only mean one thing, and he’s got a rucksack over one shoulder to boot. “Did medical finally clear you?”

“As of five minutes ago, yup. And I thought you might want a second pair of eyes for all the tech- if that’s okay with you, I mean.” He pauses. “After the other day and all. Not to imply you couldn’t handle it by yourse-"

“Hush. You bring that up again, I’ll give you the long version of my recruitment speech.” She tosses the beacon at him; he snatches it out of the air, left-handed, without so much as a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. Good. “Of course you can come along. You can be the pack bantha.”

“Fair enough. I’ve got room enough for a little more in here.” Gesturing to the pack, he tucks the beacon in beneath the top flap. “D’you really think we’re going to need this, though?”

“I hope not. I tend to treat it rather like an umbrella: bring it and you won’t need it, forget it-” that ought to do it; she fastens up her pouches and stands- ��and you end up in a metal bikini trying to choke a Hutt unconscious.”

Theron tilts his head to one side. “I won’t ask what that had to do with an umbrella. Maybe it’d make more sense if I could see it- there aren’t holos, by any chance?”

“Mixed metaphor. Also, I deleted all those recordings. Sorry.” With a wink, she pops the secondary unit out of its slot before she clips her generator back to her belt. “I know I gave you some shit for it back on Rakata Prime, but I assume you’re comfortable cloaking in. I’ve got no idea what’s in those caves, and given the option I’d rather be able to sneak up on it.”

“It’s been a little while, but I’ll be fine. Sync me when you’re ready.”

She nods and hands it to him, watching for a moment as he attaches it next to his right-hand holster before she hits the switch and the world around them flickers, out of focus for a moment and then nearly back, like a prism a few degrees out of alignment- except for him, clear beside her. After another thirty seconds she switches it off; he makes a face and blinks.

“Sorry,” he says. “Like I said, it’s been a while, and I think your tech’s a little different from ours. I’ll adjust, I’m sure.”

“I’ll trust you not to try to reverse-engineer it.” Theron shoots her his best who, me? look in response- she called that one, clearly, not that she’d expect any less. (She’d have done the same, in his position. They’re far too much alike for their own good.) “We’ll only use it if we need to and I’ll go light on overrides. Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

***

They’re half an hour out from camp, making good time toward the cave complex despite the swampy ground beneath their speeders, when her comm rings.

“Cipher.” Lana sounds as though she’s got a headache. “Did you see Theron before you left this morning? He isn’t answering my messages.”

(I was certainly about to have a headache, Lana mutters. Force, you should have heard her when she figured out he’d gone. She didn’t say anything, of course, but she was thinking it very emphatically.

She doesn’t need to ask who she means, only winces in sympathy.)

“Of course I did-” she swerves, diverting around a particularly large tree- “but we’re still in transit, at the moment. Can we holo you once we arrive?”

“What do you mean, we?”

He had better not have-

She kills the throttle, spins the tail of her speeder around until she’s directly in Theron’s path and he has to pull up short to keep from running into her. “Did we miss a turn? We can’t be there yet,” he says over the idling engine. “Pretty sure I still remember how to read a map.”

“Theron, is your comm off?” She eyes him over the windscreen as Lana, in her ear, makes a noise like an angry nexu.

“Maybe.”

“And did you, by chance, forget to actually tell anyone you were planning on heading into the field with me today?”

“Forget? No.” His comm was off- he raises his hand to his temple, brushing over one of the implant controls just above his eyebrow. “Forget would kind of imply I planned on telling anyone in the first place.”

She sighs.

***

The caves go deep, hundreds of meters back and down into the rock.

At first she thinks the prickling on the back of her neck’s because of all the creatures prowling around them- despite their best efforts at avoiding detection they stumble a few times, over stoneray nests and piles of crumbling stone and, once, the skeleton of something massive, bony fists as tall as her torso, brittle with age. As they skirt around it, a cluster of small skittering creatures emerges from its rib cage; she signals to Theron and he flanks the pack before she drops their cloaking and they pick off the creatures one by one with blaster shots and knife slashes.

"You know,” he says as the last one falls, “that’s really disconcerting.”

“Hm?” She turns toward him as she resheaths the blade, prodding at one of the creatures with the toe of her boot. It’s twisted and pale, eyes milky and fangs thin as needles; whatever it is, she’d bet its kin haven’t seen sunlight in generations. “They are odd-looking, aren’t they?”

“I meant you. You know you laugh when you break stealth, right?”

She snorts. “I do not. I always exhale on a backstab, yes, but that just helps focus the strike. Basic combat dynamics.”

He keeps moving forward as the cave walls open up around them. “Well, yeah, I know that. But seriously, you actually laugh. It’s kind of creepy.”

“I don’t-”

(Yes, you do. You definitely do. Lana grins. I’ve heard it myself.

I know that now- Theron took a holo of me training the next day and played it back for me. Vector told me later he’d always assumed I was doing it on purpose.)

She stops, the odd feeling intensifying. So far everything they’ve passed through has been natural, hollows and passages worn into the stone by years of slow erosion, but the chamber ahead of them’s massive, all square corners and round columns and a domed ceiling arching high above their heads. Someone built this place

Someone built this place a long, long time ago.

Theron’s stopped, too, standing beside her and looking around, studying the carvings chiseled into the walls. “I think we found it.”

“I think you’re right.” She traces the letters with a fingertip. “This is Sith. Old Sith. It reminds me of the ruined temple on Dromund Kaas- the little I’ve seen of it, at least. Why didn’t Lana come with us? This sort of thing’d be right in her wheelhouse.”

“They’re all scared,” he says, “of this place. They won’t admit it to our faces, but they are.”

“So how do you know they're scared, then?”

Theron grins. “Despite her constant ‘my agent’-ing, my mother occasionally manages to forget what I do for a living. I eavesdropped on her and Marr.” She gives him a look; he rolls his eyes. “Don't give me that- you'd have done it too and you know it. The whole moon’s a nexus of dark side energy, apparently. That kind of power does bad things to people.”

“But not to us?”

He shakes his head. “Not in the same way. You still feel it though, don’t you? Like-” he reaches out, drags one knuckle from the base of her neck up to her hairline and she twitches- “that. Just-”

“I know what you mean.” Another shiver. He must feel it, too. “But those Imperial Guards were Force-blind, too, and they were all completely crazy.”

“Yeah. I raised the same objection yesterday when I found out they’d sent you out alone. If we work fast, though, we should be okay.”

“Forgive me if I’m not reassured.” Holding out her hand toward him, she gestures toward the pack. “Give me the field camera? I want to send this to base.”

Theron nods, rummages for a second and then turns her with a touch on her shoulder, hooks the camera over her ear. “I’ll call Lana.”

As she starts taking pictures she walks the length of the left-hand wall, keeping her eyes on the inscriptions. She knows a few of the letters, a double ‘r’ here and a ‘z’ there that she remembers from the plaque Darth Zhorrid had outside her chambers, but some of them are odd- that one looks more pictograph than letter, like some kind of long-legged bird. The words run to the back of the chamber; she can make out the outlines of structures there, a long, low platform topped by three more locks and a series of raised tiles along the floor surrounding a larger, central pyramid.

Hm. This wasn’t in the briefing.

“Damn it. I can’t get a comm signal.” He calls out across the room. “We might be too far underground.”

“I’ll keep documenting. At worst, they can look over it when we get back. Between Darth Marr, Lana and Dee-Four’s databases, someone ought to know how to read this.”

“With any luck,” he says, “it’s an instruction manual. ‘How to kill an Emperor.’”

She chuckles. “We can only hope.”

(That would assume, Valkorion murmurs, and for a moment she can see him on the opposite couch, arms crossed, regarding her with quiet amusement, that such a thing exists.

You protest too much, old man. She closes her eyes. When she opens them, he is gone.)

Gloves off and tucked into her belt, she rests her palms on the first lock.

Nothing happens.

Theron’s looking at her expectantly; she shrugs. “It worked yesterday. I- oh, no. There were three of the emperor’s guards left. What if we have to activate all three at the same time?”

“That’s going to be a problem, yeah. But-” he touches the carved stone pedestal- “look at the floor. Same symbol there, on that far tile.”

He’s right. Not quite so simple as yesterday, but if it was built by the Massassi, even under Sith guidance, the system couldn’t be too complicated. They’ve barely got language, for Force’s sake.

“Maybe if I stand on it?” As she steps cautiously onto the symbol it shifts under her feet, sinking downward, the same violet glow rising and winding around her legs, wrapping tight- no, no, that’s just her imagination. It’s only light.

“And then I just-?” Pulling one of his own gloves off, Theron touches the little pyramid.

She feels it a split second before it strikes, a static hum that sets her hair on end. But one can’t outrun lightning: it hits her square in the chest, mostly diffusing off her shielding but still she drops like a stone, the back of her head bouncing off the floor as electricity arcs from beneath Theron’s hand to the center point. Sprawled out, air knocked from her lungs, it’s hard to breathe- oh, that’s bright. Her vision wavers.

She can hear him swearing over the crackling lightning; after a few seconds she’s moving, dragged off the tile and out of the line of fire with his arms looped under hers. When her eyes remember how to focus he’s crouched next to her, fingers pressed to her throat as her pulse stutters and then steadies. “Hey- are you ok? Talk to me.”

“Ow.”

“It worked.”

“I noticed,” she mutters, then coughs. “You get to stand on the tile for the next one.”

When he helps her sit up her chest hurts less. “It’s staying active. I think we can sit for a minute.”

“No. I want to get out of here.” As she says it he brushes dust off her face, off her jacket; the back of her head’s stinging and when she rubs at the sore spot her fingertips come away sticky. That’d explain the headache, then. “Get me up and let’s keep going.”

“You’re bleeding.” Theron frowns. “Let me at least look at it.”

She tries to wave him away but he’s already pulling a medkit out of the pack, dabbing antiseptic on the wound that must be there- ow, ow, ow. “Only a little cut, I’m sure. I’m fine.” She swats at his hand again.

“And attracting everything in scent distance.”

He does have a point. “Hit it quick, then. Injectors hurt like hell on the scalp.”

“There’s skin glue if you’d prefer.” Theron holds up the little applicator. “Should hold.”

“Not in my hair. I’d have to shave off that whole area if you don’t place it right.”

“That’d be quite a look, yeah. Fair.” Tucking it away again, he takes out and uncaps the kolto. “Ready?”

She bites back a yelp as the needle sinks in. That hurt more than the lightning, she thinks, though she probably deserves it for running around without her helmet- the pain’s getting off lucky compared to the lecture she’d have gotten from Lokin.

He dabs one more time at the area with the cleaning towel. “Okay. All fixed.”

“No new scars, at least. Though you could offer to kiss it better.” For a moment she manages to keep a straight face. He's not quite so easy to fluster as she'd once thought: at their planning meetings he surprised her, sarcastic as ever but as professional as any of her old Intelligence colleagues, mask not slipping even when she know’s he’s bristling at Marr’s sly insults or his mother’s offhand comments. Even today, their first real field outing together- strange, given all the time they’ve spent working side by side- he’s acquitted himself well. But at her comment he flushes a little and she can’t help but grin. “Oh, I’m only teasing. You’re no fun at all.”

“You’ve got a weird idea of fun. I was just going to say this isn’t exactly the best place for that.”

“I’ve been on way worse dates.” That, at least, makes him smile. “That’s a relief. I was worried it might be me.”

He smirks, shifts position to nudge into her side with one hip, and as he helps her to her feet he presses a kiss behind her ear. “Nope. There- sorry for electrocuting you.”

“Much better.” She adjusts her armor, knocked out of place by the impact. “And I forgive you. Like I said, you get to stand on the tile this time.”

(As it turned out, she yawns- stars, what time is it?- the blasted tiles stayed lit after they were touched. No need for continuous pressure after all. Theron didn’t even have to dodge.

I do wish I’d gone with you. The images you took really were fascinating, Lana says, and even after over a millennium all the mechanisms still worked. One can only hope to leave a legacy like that.

Dusty ruins and wandering ghosts- I think we can do better. Don’t you?

Lana smiles.)

The final lock was in yet another cave, this one on the far side of the valley that cradled the temple complex, identical carvings along its sloped walls and shallow steps leading up to a last diamond-shaped prism twice the size of any other she’s seen. When they get close it’s already glowing, that same eldritch light pulsing with her heartbeat, slow and even and hypnotic.

“Last one.” Theron turns to her. “Should we do this together?”

She nods; they raise their hands, side by side, to chest height. “On three. Three, two, one-”

It ignites at their touch and she can almost hear it, a howl deep inside her head; the energy bursting from the lock knocks them both off their feet, sending them flying almost to the base of the steps. For the second time today she lands hard on her back, skidding along the stones until she collides with the wall and curls onto her side.

It’s so bright, so bright- oh, this was a mistake. What have they let free?

When the glow finally fades enough that she can see again Theron’s across the staircase, against the other wall with one hand pressed to his ribs- they’d better not be broken again, the Grand Master’s going to kill me- still looking up toward the lock. There’s something else there now, backlit and hard to make out, a humanoid figure making its way down the steps toward them. Its steps are silent, though, no echo of booted heels against the floor.

A man.

Not quite. The shape of a man cast in white light and soft shadow, the face of a man, scarred and draped in robes that she ought to recognize, she thinks, but-

Theron whines, barely audible but no less terror in the sound for its quietness, and presses himself harder back into the wall as the figure (a Force ghost, Lana murmurs, quiet. He must have drawn on the energy you released to be able to manifest.) draws within arm’s reach of her. “Well,” the figure says, and she knows his voice, knows why Theron’s afraid, “it’s about time. I’ve been waiting for you.”

It would almost be funny if her head didn’t hurt too much to laugh. “Hello, Revan. I knew I killed you.”

“Only in part,” he says, “as I'm sure you've gathered. But yes, I suppose you did.”

She gathers herself onto hands and knees, starts to move in a slow crawl across the length of the stair toward Theron. If he tries to capture him again, she can at least put herself between them- whatever good that would do against a spirit. “If you're here, who’s leading the cult, then? They certainly seem to think it’s you. We certainly thought it was you.”

“An abomination. A brooding monster, blinded by his obsession with revenge on the Emperor, clinging to a body that refuses to die.” As Revan continues to speak she keeps moving, ever so careful, centimeter by centimeter. “And you must not let him succeed.”

Wait. What?

“Are you seriously trying to tell me-” she’s nearly there now- “that the thing who’s hunted us halfway across the galaxy and tortured Theron nearly to death is your evil twin?”

“No. An explanation would require more time than we have, and-” Revan pauses. “Although when you say it like that, it does sound absurd, doesn’t it?”

“Just a little.”

He doesn’t respond, looking past her instead, face flickering for a moment from blank neutrality into something like grief. “Strategy only counts for so much, I’ve found. Some things can’t be predicted.”

“A very convenient excuse.” Finally close enough, she angles herself between the two of them as Theron shifts behind her, one hand on her shoulder. “You said you’ve been waiting. What do you want?”

“He thinks he can destroy the Emperor. He’s wrong.” Looking down at them, Revan sighs. “He- I was never meant to be the one to do that. I understand that now, but he refuses to see it.”

“Then tell us how to stop him before he can complete the ritual.”

He’s fading already, the light ebbing and his outline beginning to blur. “He won’t begin until he believes you’ve been defeated. Find him, and destiny will do the rest. But you won't be able to do it alone.”

“But how- ”

“May the Force be with you.” The words echo off the walls and then Revan is gone.

Theron exhales, breath ragged- he must have been holding his breath this entire time, the way he gasps- and sags against her. He’s shaking, his hand on her shoulder tapping staccato against the kinetic plating of her armor; he breathes again, inhaling for four heartbeats, a pause and a slow exhale, and then another.

(She knows that exercise all too well.

And in-two-three-four, the instructor says, singsong, to twenty faces in a darkened classroom. Her own feet are flat on the floor, hands resting on her thighs. Holding now- four, five, six, seven and exhale slowly to a count of eight and now again-two-three-four-

Some things are universal.)

“Sorry,” he says after another half-dozen breaths. “Sorry. I-”

She turns halfway around, not so far as to shift him off her but just enough to be able to see his face. “Shh. Don’t. It’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine. If he’d attacked us I’d have been useless. He-” His voice catches. Of course he wasn’t ready to go against Revan already, not this soon, not after the way she can guess Revan- the abomination or however they ought to call the thing hiding in the inner reaches of the temple that is and isn’t Revan all at the same time; the Force can go fuck itself- must have played havoc in his head. She should have known better. Physically he was ready, but mentally-

“Not sure either of us would have been much use,” she shrugs, forcing a note of levity into her voice. “Unless you know how to fight spirits, which I certainly don’t.”

He chuckles half-heartedly but he’s less shaky now, almost steady if still leaning hard against her side. “Not really. But still.”

“It hasn’t even been a month. I think it’s allowed. You should have seen me the first time someone tried to buy me a Cassandra Sunrise after-” She cuts herself off just in time. Regardless of circumstances, there are things he isn’t allowed to know. “Never mind. Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” Sitting up straighter, he twists from side to side, bending experimentally. “No. I landed on the pack, but I’m okay.”

“Good. Let’s-”

Her portable holo starts chiming and she reaches into her belt pouch, setting it hovering in the air between them. When Darth Marr flickers into solidity she doesn’t even bother standing, just stays sitting beside Theron as the lens focuses on them.

“You had a visitor. A manifestation. The Jedi and I both felt it.”

“Yes. Revan, but not the one we’ve been dealing with. This one’s dead.” That… doesn’t seem to surprise Marr at all. Hm. “Dead-ish, at least.”

He nods. “We suspected that might be the case.”

“Is that so?” She sighs up at the holo. “If I might make a suggestion, my lord?”

The silence that follows might be assent or it might be a warning; she never quite knows. Theron moves his hand behind her back, out of sight of the camera, a shift in pressure relaying a caution she chooses to ignore.

“That would have been useful,” she says, and she does not care because her head aches and she’s got blood caked in her hair and dust in her eyes and Theron coming down from a panic attack beside her and it is not fair and she is not having a bit of it, not today- “to include in the damned briefing.”

(Lana buries her head in her hands. How are you still alive?

Luck, mostly. That and usefulness and a modicum of blackmail go a long way.)

***

You remember what happened after that, don’t you? We set up the forward camp that night.

Lana nods. I remember. We could only fit a third of the soldiers inside the boundaries of the temple. I just kept thinking- what if we failed? All of the rest of them were going to die.

Even that didn’t help some of them. She frowns. We were wrong about the Revanites’ numbers. They were all just hiding behind the walls… so many dead in the first day alone. Stars, but we were so stupid.

How could we have known?

We couldn’t have. She tucks her knees up against her chest again, trying to ignore the restless feeling stirring in the back of her head. And none of that mattered in the end, did it?

Another verse of the same song.

***

There’s nothing for them to do but wait.

It takes three days to breach the temple, three days of hard fighting with Republic and Empire side by side. She sees almost none of it. The casualty rates are still within acceptable limits but only barely- a hundred on that first day, fifty on the second and another twenty on the third before Torch and her Mandalorians arrive and finally shatter the Revanite line.

(That had been a surprise.

Maybe it really is the end of the world. If the Mandalorians are here, at the very least it ought to be quite a battle.)

They can’t risk wounds that might take them out of the fight, not this close to Revan. So they spend three long days waiting, reviewing reports and planning and sparring to keep their skills sharp.

“Stop letting me win.” Her forearm’s across Theron’s throat and her left knee on his chest as he blinks up at her, flat on his back, in the lantern light of the courtyard. “If this was a battle you’d be dead five times over by now.”

“I’m not letting you do anything. I just like to work at range.” Grabbing her arm with both hands, he rolls in the opposite direction, hauling her off-balance; she tries to dive over him but he actually holds on this time, catching her with a knee in the stomach that knocks the breath out of her.

That’s better.

She lands hard, gasping-

“All right, you lot.” Lana’s climbing down from the tall tower, feet steady on the rungs of the ladder despite the dark. “Bedtime for me. It’s your turn to take watch.”

“Just when my luck was starting to change,” Theron grumbles and rocks back onto his heels, holds out a hand to help her to her feet. “Is it both of us on middle watch again?”

She nods, breath not quite back yet, and points toward the ladder where Vector’s descending- she’d insisted on his return on their decampment and surprisingly Marr and Satele conceded without argument. Always two on watch. A formality, mostly: the line’s ahead of them and perimeter sensors behind and it’s been silent every night but orders are orders.

“We took the liberty of leaving the caf,” Vector murmurs in passing. “It’s still nearly full. We thought you might have need of it.”

“You know me,” she grins, a faint cough punctuating the words, “too well.”

They scale the ladder, her first and Theron behind her. Atop the watchtower there isn’t much: two chairs and a little brazier, the thermos of caf and four cups, one used (Lana’s, almost certainly. Vector never needed it- another side benefit of the Joining.). She stands at the inner wall, looking out toward the lights of the troop encampment.

“It’ll be tomorrow, won’t it?” The center of the complex glows like a permanent sunset, the ritual markers there primed for use but still untouched; Revan really does seem to be waiting for them. “Do you think we can do this?”

“We have to.” Pressing one of the cups into her hand, Theron leans against the wall beside her. “We don’t have much choice, do we?”

“I know, but-”

It’s colder here than at their base camp. It shouldn’t be. The breeze blowing toward them always seems to radiate outward from the temple’s core, though, no matter where one’s standing along the perimeter, carrying a damp chill with it that reminds her of home. She wraps her hands around the cup and shivers.

“Theron,” she says after a moment, “can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Are you afraid?”

“Yeah. A little.” He turns to look at her. “More than a little. I'll be ready for him this time, but… are you?”

She nods. “I fought him once before. He threw me twenty meters across a room into a duracrete pillar with his mind while dueling two full Sith Lords simultaneously and dodging a missile barrage, and he wasn’t anywhere near this crazy back then. So yes, I’m afraid.”

“D’you know, that actually makes me feel better?”

“Does it?” The caf doesn’t help settle her tonight, no more than the sparring did; she drains the cup at a draught and shifts restlessly on her feet. “That’s good, I suppose.”

“The rest of them all seem so certain. I thought I was the only one who isn’t.”

(I definitely wasn’t, Lana murmurs. I was probably just hiding it well. I’ve had rather a lot of practice.)

She shakes her head. “Being scared just means you’re paying attention, I think- it's more a question of redirecting it. Myself, I prefer anger. Much more productive.”

“Me, too. I was never very good at keeping calm.” Theron sets his cup down on the stone ledge. “One of the many reasons I’d have made a lousy Jedi.”

“Many?” She chuckles. “Besides the obvious, I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Well-” he slips one arm around her waist and she turns, glances down into the courtyard below but it’s still and silent, no one there to see, so she lets him pull her in close; she fits, just so, into the void spaces left by his body- “the whole attachment thing, for one.”

She smiles, tilts her chin up to catch him in a kiss.

(Not a debt settled, not in the open and not when they ought to have been paying attention to other things. They were not so reckless as that.

That was later, after- but there was solace enough in kisses, at least, to calm them both.)

***

Revan couldn’t control her after all.

It was the one thing that went right.

Not that watching her allies spinning helpless in invisible cages as she runs frantic from lightning and flame and saber blows feels right- it feels awful, even as she breaks each one free to continue their relentless assault- but he couldn’t hold her, couldn’t get enough hold on her mind to trap her. It’s only fitting, she supposes. It was her destiny, Revan said.

Forget destiny. If she was born for this, the universe has a very peculiar sense of humor.

At the end of it they’re all bleeding, even Satele from a jagged slash along one cheekbone, even Marr, a dark stain welling beneath one sleeve. But they are all alive, all standing in a ring around two Revans-

And then it all went to the Void.

(Ah, Revan. His voice in her head again, honey laced with poison. Like you, in many ways- so stubborn, even to the end, and so very many interesting things inside his head. After three hundred years one gets to know a person rather well.)

***

Their soldiers lived. That must count for something.

They will not speak of the Emperor. That much was decided immediately, as soon as Revan, whole once more, had left them for the last time. Even in the face of his failure- their failure; they were all complicit in it at the end of the day, whether they admitted it to themselves or not- their troops deserved to celebrate a victory.

Revan was gone. That must count for something, too. And even freed, the Emperor was still incorporeal. How much harm could a spirit possibly cause?

(shut up shut up shut UP)

The worst of their injuries seen to, they wait for evac back to the base camp. She settles onto a fallen pillar, closing her eyes; her head’s swimming from stealth and it’ll settle in a moment as soon as the stim kicks in, but for now the world’s spinning in circles just as the rest of them were doing not ten minutes ago. Someone sits to her left, a brush of robes at her side like the air after a storm.

“H’lo, Lana,” she murmurs. “Wake me up when we’re leaving?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

They lean against each other, kept upright mostly by force of will, and after another little while she feels Theron settle on her other side. (She didn’t need to open her eyes to know it was him, though to go by size and build alone it could just as easily have been Vector. She could joke that it was his hair or his jacket, but it wasn’t-

It was just him. She could have been blind all along and she’d still have known.)

“We did it,” he says, and in the narrow space between them he rests his hand on top of hers; they sit like that, silent and exhausted, Lana half-asleep on her shoulder and her little finger twined around his, until the shuttle comes.

***

They meet, one last time, at the War Table.

It’s over. It’s strange to think about, their odd little group still more like the punchline to a joke instead of the heroes the four of them somehow became. Six months of their lives gone, six months spent in planning and running and hiding and fighting, only to win the battle and maybe lose the war all at the same time- and in twenty-three hours none of it will matter at all.

The truce’ll be over. Back to the Empire, back to the Republic, back to their lives.

Tonight, though, despite everything, they’ll celebrate.

“Stay a moment, Cipher.” Darth Marr holds up his hand as she starts to turn and go. “We have matters to discuss. Lord Beniko, you as well.”

She glances at Lana quickly, just a flicker out of the corner of her eye, hoping Marr won’t see; Lana, still in her usual place at Marr’s shoulder, looks just as confused as she feels. He waits, silent, unmoving, until the Republic delegation passes beyond the far archway, before he folds his arms and begins to speak again.

“Regardless of the threat the Emperor may pose, when our fleet departs tomorrow we return to war with the Republic. As such, we will require a full complement of resources, and while others on the Council have deemed it sufficient in past years to maintain our intelligence operations as a subsidiary of the military Spheres-” his tone is blistering, and she could almost swear the lenses over his eyes narrow for a moment; she can only imagine his facial expression behind his mask- “recent events have led me to reassess this approach. Your work on Manaan, on Rakata Prime and on Rishi was unsanctioned, in direct defiance of official orders from the Sphere of Military Offense, despite your knowledge of what the consequences of such actions might be.”

Silence seems the safest response to that. She swallows hard, nodding, and stands up straighter as he continues.

(You know now what he meant, obviously. I was fairly sure I was about to die.

Lana nods. I had no idea at the time. About any of it. I was fairly sure you were about to die, too.)

“And yet had you not done so, we would have fought the Republic over Rishi. The Revanites would have had their victory. Clearly,” Marr rumbles, “allowing Intelligence to work independently has benefit.”

“With all due respect, my lord,” she says as he pauses again, his head angled in anticipation of her reply, “we’ve been making that argument for years. You won’t hear me disagree.”

Lana shoots her a look at that but he only makes a noise; it might have been a laugh, if she believed he had anything approaching a sense of humor. “I would expect no less. You should be pleased, then, Cipher. Sith Intelligence will resume full operation immediately, under new leadership.”

The Minister was right after all. Does he mean-

She clasps her hands behind her back to hide the pressure of her thumb against the opposite palm, tracing tiny quick calming circles in one of the focusing techniques she learned in training, keeping her voice steady and her tone even. “Not Darth Zhorrid, then?”

“Zhorrid no longer has a place on the Council. While her lineage is respectable- “ behind him, Lana’s eyes flick toward the ceiling as she tries not to make a sound- “she has proven incapable of rising to the challenge of command. Until such time as a suitable candidate for the Sphere of Intelligence is located, I will continue to represent its interests. On an administrative level, however-”

He turns toward Lana, raises his hand in a gesture she doesn't recognize but Lana clearly does; she goes pale and still, her eyes wary.

“While Cipher Nine’s work in the field was invaluable, it was your guile and intellect that made the campaign possible at all. Lana Beniko, I hereby-” Marr gestures again- “appoint you as head of Sith Intelligence.”

You have got, she thinks, and catches the tip of her tongue between her teeth to keep herself from howling out objection, to be fucking kidding me.

For a moment, she thinks she’s going to say no. For a minute, she wants her to say no. But then Lana bows, solemn, gaze downcast.

“You do me honor, my lord. How could I possibly decline?

“Indeed.” That noise again, that almost-laugh. “A well-earned reward.”

Her head’s still lowered. “Yes. I will do my best to be worthy of it.”

Marr’s attention snaps back to her just as she manages to stop her lip from twitching- how dare he do this, reviving Intelligence and giving it over to a Sith, even a Sith like Lana but of course he’s a Dark Councilor, he can do as he pleases, could snap her neck here and now and no one would so much as blink when he stepped over her body- “You may negotiate terms of your continued employment with Lord Beniko as you choose, Cipher, although she will require your complete dossier for review.”

“Yes, my lord. As you say.” There was definitely emphasis on the complete, there. Of course there was. Shit, shit, shit.

“For now, there does appear to be a celebration beginning. You may avail yourselves of it as you see fit. Your new positions begin tomorrow, and we will reconvene in the morning to begin organizational planning.” With a dismissive wave he starts down toward the arch, toward camp and the dull clamor of music and soldiers’ voices already raised in half-drunk song. “I do not think I will join you, myself. I have a call to make.”

They both stand there, staring after Marr, and when he’s gone she turns toward Lana, starts to speak-

And Lana crouches down low, knees bent, head in her hands, muffling a sharp little scream against her cupped palms. After a minute, she looks up.

“Head of Sith Intelligence,” she says, nose wrinkling and mouth twisted around the words. “Well, fuck.”

(Is it wrong of me to say that I was a little glad you were upset?

Lana snorts. A little glad? You should have seen your face.)

***

Up next: Goodbye (Reprise). A party when no one feels like celebrating, a debt settled, and a truce concluded.

#inyri writes #equivalent exchange #swtor fanfiction #cipher nine/theron shan #imperial agent/theron shan #cipher nine

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entergamingxp · 5 years ago

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Craftopia Details Player Limit in Online Multiplayer, Game Systems

June 9, 2020 11:18 AM EST

Craftopia: All the game systems including monster breeding, farming, randomly generated dungeons, skills, vehicles, character creation, online multiplayer.

Pocketpair Inc. announced PC game Craftopia during the Indie Live Expo 2020 event on June 6. Be sure to check out our news roundup of the event. Craftopia stood out as a particularly appealing game mixing online multiplayer survival, crafting, hack ‘n’ slash, vehicles, and more. Here are additional details we learned from Pocketpair Inc.

Craftopia‘s early access will launch this July 2020 for $24.99. Craftopia will include the following languages: Japanese, English, Simplified Chinese. More languages will be supported later on. You can check out the game’s Steam page here.

We also learned that up to “eight players or more” can play Craftopia together online. The game can be enjoyed solo as well.

Four developers are making Craftopia together. We have Takuro Mizobe the CEO of Pocketpair Inc, an ex-developer from Capcom, a developer that Mizobe met during his internship at Nintendo, and one last person. This is a pretty small team compared to how massive Craftopia feels. Takuro Mizobe mentioned the team is facing multiple difficulties during development, but managed to come all this way, ready for the early access launch.

Craftopia was born from the wish of mixing the favorite games of the four developers. It’s a mix of Sandbox, Open-World, Survival, Farming, Hack ‘n’ Slash, Factory Management, Hunting, Monster Breeding, Online Multiplayer, Anime-stylized Graphics, and Fantasy RPG. I’m trying to find a terrible nickname for the game. For now, my best shot is Age of Megaten Factory Mine Diablo Craftnautica of the Wild.

Jokes aside, here are additional details from the press release, along with the game’s trailer and screenshots:

Farming: 20+ crops are available for you to grow. Of course, you can grow crops one by one, but there are more you can do. With the power of agricultural machines, you can have large scale fields. While enjoying your self-sufficient life, why not make your colorful orchards?

Industrialization and Automation: You can automate every single item gathering. When you get tired of cutting woods and mining stones? Let’s automate! Tired of automation of simple activities? Then let’s start using belt-conveyors to build huge factories.

Breeding: By throwing Monster Prism at creatures, you can catch them as a pet. Not only animals like cows and deer, but most of the monsters are also tamable. Monsters, Gotta Catch ‘Em All!

Exploring Dungeons: When the detector starts beeping, it’s the sign that you’re getting close to a dangerous dungeon. Go back to the town to equip yourself, then enter the dungeon in the hope of finding treasures. It changes its shape every time you enter. At the end of the dungeon, you will encounter bosses to fight. You will gain new abilities when you unleash the power of the world.

Fishing: In Craftopia, you can enjoy fishing too. Taste some fresh fish, and craft a shield from turtle shells! Once you get used to fishing on the coastline, it’s time to build a ship to sail! Let’s catch a whale!

Vehicles: Hoverboards, motorbikes, helicopters, automobiles, biplanes, tanks, air balloons, and machinery… Gather materials to craft what you want to ride! You can share a ride with your friends to explore the world together!

Skill Tree: 100+ skills to learn in Craftopia. You can create your character by learning various skills. Some are good at crafting; some are skilled at broad swords; some might do better in automation. Your job will vary throughout the adventure, depending on your play styles!

Character Creation: Gender/sex, race, hairstyle, eyes, faces, skin tones, facial hairs, face painting, you can customize all of them!

Multiplayer: Multiplayer is available. You can build factories, explore dungeons, catch fish with your friends. The choice is yours! You can even be an assassin if you want to.

youtube

Craftopia is definitely one of the indie games revealed at Indie Live Expo 2020 I’ll be personally keeping an eye on, along with Sumire no Sora and Cogen: Sword of Rewind. Meaning I’ll be covering it as much as I can time wise, as follow-up news will be coming soon via the game’s Twitter. Craftopia will also receive a Closed Alpha Test before the Early Access in July, and we’ll be sure to share our impressions of the game then. Like Ulala would say, stay tuned.

June 9, 2020 11:18 AM EST

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/06/craftopia-details-player-limit-in-online-multiplayer-game-systems/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=craftopia-details-player-limit-in-online-multiplayer-game-systems

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morningmindsetpodcast-blog · 6 years ago

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MM124 - 3 Aspects of Communication

Sender, Message, and the Receiver are the three aspects or components of effective communication. If all of them are not in line and cooperative, then things will be lost.

If you like the show, please check out our Official Morning Mindset Merchandise!

Episode Transcription

[INTRO]

♫ Trenches by Pop Evil ♫

*Alex*

Welcome to Morning Mindset. A daily dose of practical wit and wisdom with a professional educator & trainer, Amazon best selling author, United States Marine, Television and Radio host, Paul G. Markel. Each episode will focus on positive and productive ways to strengthen your mindset, and help you improve your relationships, career goals, and overall well-being. Please welcome your host; Paul G. Markel.

*Professor Paul*

Okay, let's get this rolling, that's getting Morning Mindset started one more time and welcome back. I am your host Paul Markel, thank you for joining me and for being a part of the Morning Mindset experience. Yes indeed. So if we want to live a positive and productive life, you do, I do, we do, we should at least, right? One of the ways that we can lead a positive and productive life, is to exercise effective communication.

Now this communication could be verbal, it could be written, it could actually be hand gestures. It could be expressions, there's a lot of types of communication, but regardless of the type of communication whether it's verbal or if it's video or it's written or what have you. There are three basic aspects to communication, and when communication breaks down between you and another person, or between you and a group or between your boss and you or what have you, if there is a problem with communication, if there is a miscommunication, well you have a problem in one of the three aspects.

The aspects are very simply the sender the message and the receiver. Did you get all that? The sender, the message, and the receiver. There are three aspects of communication, and when I was going through leadership training, many moons ago and instructor training many moons ago. We had to focus on these. Okay, so the sender. That in this case, that would be You.

Are you delivering the message? Are you delivering the message in a manner which the receiver can get to? Alright for instance, really super simple. If your mom or dad does not know how to text or use texting. I have a father who does not text, he does not have the ability to text. He doesn't use his mobile phone for texting.

He has a flip phone, and he opens it and turns it on when he wants to make a call and that's it. So if my desire was to send him a text, it doesn't matter what the message is. He's not going to get it because he doesn't have the ability, right? So as the sender, I need to make sure that my method of delivering the message is a good method.

Alright, for instance reaching you when I decided to do the Morning Mindset podcast, I decided to use the iTunes podcast format instead of video. We were doing video previously, but the problem with the video was that not everybody could or would be able to take the time to watch it. I know you can take video, and you can just listen, but I understood that the best way to deliver my message would be through an audio podcast format.

So as the sender I made that decision now the message the next part is the message. What are you trying to say? What information are you trying to deliver or are you even trying to deliver information? Maybe it's an interrogative, that means a question. Maybe you're trying to seek information from the person who's receiving your message. Maybe your message is actually a question, are you phrasing that message properly? Are you phrasing it in a way and stating it in a way so that the receiver can understand it?

Now the receiver on the other end, the persons whose getting your message, so you're sending it. You got the message and the receiver. Now, sometimes it doesn't matter and I found this ladies and gentlemen, trust me. I have found this quite often in my mission to educate the masses, in my mission to deliver information via video or written word or audio spoken word, or what have you, that I will choose a method I will deliver a message the best to the best of my, what I think is the best of my ability and the receiver doesn't get it.

They don't understand it, they don't realize it and they say “Well if the receiver-” and this is the funny part. When the receiver doesn't understand the message that you are delivering as a sender, what they will do is they will turn it around and they will say to you “You didn't send me the message” right? You didn't communicate it correctly.

Now that may be true. But it may also be not true as well. Often as the receiver of the message, we allow our prejudices to distort the message, or we will infuse our own personal emotions and feelings into the message. I have encountered this so many times that I can't even possibly count. I have encountered it so many times, it's one of those if I had a dime for every time someone missed the point or deliberately didn't didn't get it, I would be a millionaire. It's not always the sender and the message that are the problems.

Sometimes the receiver doesn't get the message, because instead of just taking the message for what it is. They view the message through their own prism of emotion and prejudice. Yes, indeed. Yes, indeed and that happens quite often, and I know that I've been the victim of the Prejudice of the receiver.

I'll deliver a message that I believe is pretty clear and concise, and the receiver won't get it or they will push back and say that's wrong. It's you know, “I don't get it. I don't see what you're saying” or that they'll respond in a way, that I never expected them to respond. Like why in the world are they responding that way?

Then I have to realize that the reason that they're responding to my message in that way, is because they've viewed the message based upon their own personal feelings and prejudices. Now some would tell you, they're like “Well if that is the case Paul, you need to craft your message in a different way so that that person can receive it better or they're better able to receive it.”

Aha. But if the message is a broad message, let's say you are the boss, right, or you are a leader or you're in charge of multiple people. 4-5-6-10-100, maybe you're in the military and you have a platoon or a company or a battalion you're delivering the message. Now you cannot craft that message for every individual listener. It's impossible, heck if you're delivering a message to three people in a team. You can't change alter and craft that message for each individual person based on their own feelings and experiences.

It's up to them to receive the message. Okay, so communication. You’re like “Man, I never thought about that. That's a lot of aspects.” Yes, indeed it is. Now if you were to deliver a message to one specific person, then you can indeed craft your message, for that person individually. Which can always, you can't do it for groups and in the large bodies of people.

So what you have to do as the sender is you have to break the message down to the most, I guess user-friendly version that you can come up with. But if we want to be able to deliver communication, if we want to live a positive and productive life, we need to be able to communicate as effectively as possible, and any time there's a breakdown in communication.

The breakdown is either the sender or the message or the receiver or a combination thereof, and if you're having problems if you're having trouble getting through to a person or a group of people what you may need to do is go back and examine it say, okay. Wherein does the problem lie? Wherein does the problem lie?

Does it lie with the sender? Does it lie with the message or does it lie with the receiver? Once you figure that out you can make it better, and so that everyone can get it. Alright. That's it for today. I am your host Paul Markel. Thank you very much for joining me. I'll talk to you again, real soon.

[OUTRO]

♫ Trenches by Pop Evil ♫

*Alex*

Thank you for spending time with us today. To get show notes, submit a topic request, for more from your host Paul G. Markel, visit MorningMindsetPodcast.com. That’s MorningMindsetPodcast.com. Please leave a review of this podcast on your favorite podcast player, we appreciate your time & effort, and we look forward to reading your honest feedback.

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aviancesturgis · 7 years ago

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Final Project: Business Plan

The last twelve months have been a long journey for me. I had plans to do a lot of the course of the year, and although I didn’t get to accomplish all my goals, I did accomplish all the goals I set for my classes. The first month involved Mastery, which taught me the art of mastering your craft. In order to excel and be great at what you do, you have to spend time on it and practice as much as possible. With music that’s definitely something that should be practiced in order to see growth.

I feel like my Mastery class was a great foundation to keep me focused and motivated. I had to deal with abuse, unemployment, and homelessness while trying to get my masters and I can say that is was worth it. Mastery is a valuable way of getting as close to perfecting your craft as you can, and I feel like the lesson I learned definitely brought value to my life.

I really enjoyed Executive Leadership, especially because reading Developing the Leader Within You by John C. Maxwell and The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene really opened my eyes. The one that I enjoyed the most was The 48 Laws of Power, it really showed me how much I really been putting some of these laws into practice. I would always recommend this book to anyone I come across.

Overall, I feel like Executive Leadership helped me to understand the qualities needed to be a leader. I wanted to be able to improve on my coaching and mentoring skills as well and feel like I’ve gained skills that I can use that make that a possibility. With my plan to open my own business, using these leadership skills will be beneficial in maintaining an environment of structure and growth.

Project and Team Management is something I’m pretty familiar with, only because I’m sure most of us have been collaborating our whole lives. Doesn’t matter if it went well or not, you more than likely have had the experience at least once. However, this class really broke down the steps needed to create and facilitate a project when working with a team. You’ll have different personalities with different skills and know where everyone fits into different parts of the project.

This is one of those classes that you can take all the information you learned and apply it to your professional and personal life. My goal was to gain the ability to manage a project and team with quality results. I have the skills to put together a project and achieve each step, I can also look at a person’s skills and determine where they will fit into the project and where they can contribute.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, Business Storytelling and Brand Development was a challenging class for me. This the class where I really started putting together the story and brand for my company. The goal was to create and effectively tell the story of my business and develop future brands. It was the hardest thing, but I was able to figure out the message I wanted to convey to my customers and how I wanted them to feel when hearing about our company. I also got to create a Business Model Canvas and the Brand Identity Prisms to help me break down the parts of the business and what I’m trying to achieve. Although it was a challenge, I like this class for the simple fact that it did challenge me. I’m never afraid to push the limit on what I don’t know or already know. This is a skill I’ll be able to apply to future businesses that I plan to start up. I can say without a doubt that have a business story and branding it just right can make a difference in the success of the company as well.

The class that I knew I would really need to focus on the most was Entertainment Business Finance. When it comes to creating a business plan, even though all the plan is important, the financials are the most important part of the plan. This part can make a difference in your company getting funding or not. It is also the way to showcase how the company with make money if they break-even or not, and will the business be sustainable. Although Business Storytelling and Brand Development was a challenge for me, this class definitely topped that.

Numbers aren’t my strong suit, and it has been all my life, however, it’s never been something I shied away from. I believe I’ve gotten better because of the fact that I want to improve on finance. I didn’t have the knowledge on what the financials should look like or what should be included. The business plan wouldn’t be completed without financials being in order and making sense for the company. I’m glad I had this experience since it’ll help me with future endeavors as well as my personal life.

Now when it comes to marketing, Digital Marketing was a class I was very excited about. This is how you tell your target market about your business. This was a great way to show me how to plan it out and make sure the goals are reasonable enough to reach. I learned how to create a marketing canvas for the company Aviance Entertainment, and also learned about the online tools you can use to track your analytics.

There are multiple ways you can market to your customers to make them aware of your business. While this class focused more on the digital aspect of marketing, there is also still value in the traditional means of marketing such as posters, flyers, billboards, and radio. Marketing is something that I haven’t always been the best at, so I’m happy I got to experience how I can apply digital marketing to my business.

I’ve been a pretty good negotiator my entire life, I got most of my practice in with my parents of course. My goal was to become a stronger negotiator and I believe that is something that I have improved on. I realize after doing the mock negotiation in this class, that you aren’t always getting the best possible deal. I got a good deal at the end, but when I did it over I was able to see the best possible deal and what I needed to do and say in the negotiation to get the best possible deal.

One thing I learned is that you should always take the opportunity to get to know your opponent and what you can do to help them in other ways that you can also benefit from. I’ve said it previously before, I won’t be perfect and I probably won’t always get the best deal. But, I have the knowledge on how to make that a high possibility and I’ll always be able to improve on that skill as I spend more time negotiating. The best thing to do is always dig a little deeper, because it may make a difference in sealing that big deal.

I was able to figure out that I don’t want to be an Artist Manager after taking Product and Artist Management. I don’t look at that position in a bad light, especially since there can be a lot that you gain in the position of artist manager, but I feel like it isn’t for me. I feel like I could be great at it if I really want to, and I may even reconsider in the future, however, I don’t think it’s for me. An artist manager is basically the backbone of the artist and makes a huge difference in the success of that artist.

On the product management side, I was way more excited since we want to offer products at our company to go along with our services. I was able to really figure out who our target audience is, their buying power, and where they are located so we can reach them. The products I choose to offer such as a speaker and duffle bag are great assets to the experience of our business. I now have the tools and education to put these products out and additional products in the future.

The topic of law is one that is extremely important. Advance Entertainment Law was a class that I also valued very much because I wanted to have a more in-depth understanding of contracts and intellectual property protection. I want to be able to protect not only myself and business, but my employees and future customers as well. I also wanted to understand how contracts are structured within my industry and the digital domain.

There is a heavy focus on intellectual property and liabilities in the entertainment industry, especially since liabilities are something you should be fully aware of. I was able to understand that with my business I would need to know and understand liabilities such as copyright infringement or abuse, and how they can affect my company. At least having a basic understanding of law and where to look can make a difference in your personal and professional life.

Being that I plan to eventually start a publishing company in the future, this was also another class that I knew would bring a lot of information. I wanted to understand the current issues affecting publishing and distributed. With the rise in technology, we are seeing more artist being able to publish and distribute their music independently, and don’t require a record label anymore. I also wanted to understand the strategies to protect and monetize creative content under my own publishing company. With the changes in the industry and the changes that are still in motion, I’ll have to stay up-to-date on how this will affect me in the future.

I’m also grateful that I was able to learn how to write an agent query letter. I had no idea that I could do something like this and for my own personal use at that. I would have taken advantage of this years ago, but you aren’t aware of what you don’t know until it’s present to you. The press kit was very helpful too since I’ve never created one and now I know what is needed to make a press kit.

Business Plan Development was the most fun I had in a while, which I think is because I was finally putting the pieces together of the business plan that I had been working on the whole program. The biggest goal for me overall was to create a business plan for Aviance Entertainment, a business plan that I could be proud of. Something that I could take after I complete my program and actually put to use in the real world. Having the feedback from my instructors on how I can make it better and where it needs improvement was what helped me the most to put it together.

I actually imagined Business Plan Development to be much harder than it actually was, but I chalk that up to the fact that we worked on the plan piece by piece every month. I’m very happy to have learned all the elements of the business plan that should be included and the layout of that plan. It’s amazing how something can seem impossible or hard until you break it down into pieces and also have the help to know what is needed. Now I feel more confident when it comes to drafting up a business plan and can apply this to future endeavors.

I’m am now in the final month of my degree program and the class is Final Project: Business Plan. I can say without a doubt that I am extremely proud of all that I have accomplished leading up to this class. Even in the midst of getting kicked out of my house and having to complete my final month homeless, I didn’t give up and didn’t let anything keep me from my goal. When I look back on this I’ll always remember how I stayed strong and kept working through my adversity.

This final class was me putting it all together and making it presentable. I love the final result of the business plan and I love the fact that I have an elevator pitch and presentation to go with it. The business plan for Aviance Entertainment was more than an assignment for me, it’s my passion, something I love very much, and I take making this a reality seriously. The next steps from here are to continue to save up and pitch our company to investors.

#final #business #plan #project #aviance #entertainment

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katarh-mest · 8 years ago

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Character Development HM

(Original from i-see-light)

Character Development Questions: Hard Mode This is incredibly long so I put it under the cut.

Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with? Katarh is estranged from her cousins of a similar age. She is childless/childfree, and they’re all about the babies. She has no full siblings, as her mother was injured during her birth and had to have a full hysterectomy and nearly died in the process. Katarh is closest to her younger half brother, Sparrow Singh, although she’s seen a lot less of him since he too succumbed to the world of parenthood.

What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like? Katarh is fairly close to her mother. She sends money home to support her, and tries to visit once a month. But her mother is just as baby crazy as Katarh’s aunts, even though she couldn’t have more children of her own, so Katarh can’t stay for long lest the demands for grandchildren begin.

What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like? Like most Moonkeepers, Katarh didn’t grow up with her father in the house. He was a wandering trader. He did bring her presents while she was growing up, and she knew he had another family out there (again, as is the Moonkeeper way), but she felt he loved her well enough.

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know? Katarh is Echo blessed and has been dragged into many battles with the Warriors of Light over the years. (OOC: I don’t play her as Hydalaen’s chosen.) But her real big not-so-secret is that she is a Voidwalker, and can traverse to other multiverse branches at will. She doesn’t talk about the things she sees - but she knows that in every universe she can travel to, “Katarh Mest” doesn’t exist and nobody recognizes her, not even her mother.

On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets? Her prized goldsmithing hammer, the ingredients needed to make glamour prisms, a can of black truffle risotto soup, some high quality cordials, and some max potions.

Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams? Katarh’s dreams are all over the place. She doesn’t seem to have any consistent themes.

Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares? Katarh doesn’t have nightmares very often, and there is no consistency to them.

Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target? Katarh learned the ways of a machinest and is proficient with a gun, but prefers her bow and arrow. Her first target was a little ladybug.

Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up? Yes. Katarh grew up poor. She became an artisan because she needed to support her family; her first potions were sold to buy her grandmother’s medicine. She learned she had a talent for goldsmithing, which is a very expensive trade, and had to move to Ul’Dah, where wealth is might. In order to fool her clients into thinking she was wealthier (and thus better in their eyes) than she was, she learned to dress with care. She learned to play Ul’Dah’s markets and found a niche crafting simple but well made battle jewelry for the countless mercenaries and adventurers in town. As she became renowned for her skill, she went from poor forest poacher trash to Eorzea’s top 1%. But she declined a seat on the Syndicate when offered, uncomfortable with that kind of power.

Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing? More clothing. Katarh is very modest and isn’t comfortable unless she’s clad head to toe. She prefers long skirts, but will wear pants in battle when tanking.

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been? The first time Katarh accidentally warped to another universe she was scared out of her wits, especially when she realize that her avatar in that world had all her knowledge but none of her strength.

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been? Her wedding to her beloved, Lothar, a Wildwood Elezen. He is a very calming presence to her.

Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way? Katarh can handle blood, faeces, and urine without getting too grossed out. She is very uncomfortable with vomit, however.

Does your character remember names or faces easier? She remembers both names and faces, but often has trouble putting the two together. She remembers faces alone much easier.

Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not? Yes. Katarh is a money hoarder and has a goal to amass a fortune so big that she’ll never go hungry again. She’s quite generous with friends and the poor, though, and donates money to many refugee causes in Ul’dah. Unfortunately she has a bad impulse buy problem when it comes to fashionable clothing. She works twice as hard after a big purchase to make up for the splurge.

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success? Success. Happiness is a process, a transient state, not a goal. Achieving success will not lead to happiness. Happiness is instead found in small every day moments of joy.

What was your character’s favorite toy as a child? The small model of a chocobo wagon her father brought her. She would pretend that it was his, and imagine him taking her on all sorts of adventures. But good Moonkeeper girls stay at home, and she was not allowed to go with him.

Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others? Wisdom. Ambition without knowledge is like going into a fight unarmed.

What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before? Katarh does not want children. Because of this, other Miqo men thought she was strange, and she didn’t have much success in relationships with people of her own kind. She didn’t have a steady boyfriend for longer than a month until she met Lothar (who is a Wildwood Elezen), who also did not want children, and she’s been with him ever since.

In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism? Katarh is very competitive when it comes to dress. She prefers to lavish praise instead of criticism, but will make sure any criticism she does dispense to others is constructive and intended to help the recipient improve. Katarh is incredibly confident when it comes to her own style abilities, so for her fashion as self-expression is a form of self-validation.

If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others? Katarh has been among the Warriors of Light long enough to know that if something extremely bad happens, there’s a good chance an Ascian was involved. Her Voidwalker ability felt like a curse until she learned to control it.

What does your character like in other people? Katarh appreciates entrepreneurship, generosity, kindness, and patience, She likes word puns and word play.

What does your character dislike in other people? She does not like trolls, and doesn’t find a lot of the “jokes” among the adventurer class to be very funny, especially the crude sexual ones. She also greatly dislikes bullies, and people who only tear down others instead of building up themselves. She firmly believes that everyone has a skill they can develop, even if it won’t make them rich, and is frustrated with people who give up without trying.

How quick is your character to trust someone else? Katarh gives someone the benefit of the doubt on first meeting, unless cause is given otherwise.

How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person? It takes a long time for Katarh to grow suspicious. She assumes most people are good, and is disappointed when they show otherwise.

How does your character behave around children? Katarh doesn’t hate kids. She just doesn’t like them until they’re around age 10 or so and can have a real conversation. Unfortunately kids love her because she doesn’t condescend to them. So a group of children around Katarh has them clamoring for her attention, and her become flustered because she can’t handle them.

How does your character normally deal with confrontation? Katarh prefers talk and diplomacy to fighting. She can fight when necessary, though.

How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation? Katarh only fights as a last resort.

What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true? Katarh wanted to be a trader like her father. She did end up in that capacity, although she is bound to Ul’dah most of the time since she’s the artisan, not the reseller. Sometimes the urge to travel and explore strikes her all the same, but she doesn’t have to go from city to city by foot since she can travel through the aether thanks to the Echo and her goods are small enough to fit into her bags.

What does your character find repulsive or disgusting? Vomit. Cuculean in Void Ark makes her sick. Cerberus in World of Darkness isn’t much better. She also has vertigo issues, and refuses to fight the Allagan battle simulation of Sophia taken to the extreme level because the floor tilts.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable. Sitting at home with her grinding wheel, making jewelry to sell, while her professor husband is on the couch, reading and researching.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable. Getting dragged into someone else’s drama. She tends to tiptoe out of a chat channel if a fight breaks out, but she’ll force herself to mediate if it’s her own Free Company.

In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve? Katarh will accept constructive criticism, provided the justification is clear and there’s evidence to back up the improvement. She recently adjusted her bard rotation on someone’s suggestion.

Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method? Katarh will move on if she doesn’t see evidence of something working.

How does your character behave around people they like? Katarh will let the conversation flow around her and participate when appropriate. She likes most people by default (except kids.)

How does your character behave around people they dislike? Katarh will ignore them as she is by nature non confrontational.

Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status? Protecting her (now wealthy) status. If someone said her honor was going to require her to pay 30 million gil to defend, she’d let them release the blackmail material instead. She lives in Ul’Dah, they forgive rich people almost anything.

Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat? Katarh would prefer to remove herself unless the threat is going to cause problems for her or others down the road.

Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)? Katarh has not been bitten by an animal. The scar on her face was from an early cheap alembic that blew up in her face; after that incident she learned blacksmithing and armory so she could make her own equipment.

How does your character treat people in service jobs? Katarh is respectful of her servers and leaves a generous tip.

Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first? Katarh believes everyone has the means to earn their dreams. Hard work, perseverance, and knowledge will pay off in the end.

Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them? No. She does not have any mentors outside of the Guildmasters, and those are colleagues, not parental figures.

Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them? Katarh has not taken on any apprentices and has not adopted any orphans, as she does not like children.

How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it? Katarh cannot say it without meaning it. She is deeply in love with her husband Lothar, and truly loves her Free Company members, but she doesn’t toy with the hearts of others.

What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them? Katarh follows the religion of the Twelve. Her patron god is Nald’Thal. She does believe she will enter the realm of Thal when she dies, as do most Eorzeans, but she doesn’t like to dwell on it that much. She instead lives firmly in today, in the realm of Nald.

#ffxiv #character development hard mode #katarh mest

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dallasz2020-blog · 5 years ago

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Crystal Water Bottle-Transform Everyday Drinking Water With Gemstone Crystals

can absorb the disease, dirty gas, evil spirits, is the best tool for healing and adjusting the body and spirit;

Can be used to set up a seven-star array,is good for meditation and visualization

Can play a role on degaussing, reducing radiation of home appliance effectively;

Can balance your body and mind,adjust your emotions, help to concentrate spirit.

#crystalinfusedwaterbottlewholesalecrystalspringsbottledwatercrystalwaterbottleaustraliacrystalwaterbottlebenefitscrystalwaterbottlecanadacry

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